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ronearoundblindly · 2 months

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Hideout (2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Sweet Baby (see previous or series)

Summary: 'Grant' becomes comfortable enough to tell you who he is, and you get comfortable enough to show him the kindness he deserves.

Warnings for description of minor blood/injury and light smut (mentions of morning wood, dry humping, hair pulling, praise kink? maybe coached orgasm?). This series is 18+ only. MINORS DNI. There is plenty else for you youngins to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2.6k

Warmer months are for updating the rooms, so they are on a rotation of renovation. There are really busy times and really slow times based on events in town, but there’s an understanding with Grant’s ‘party’ of friends that, if needed, they can stay in the room closed for repair. It’s not as if any room is uninhabitable when they need a coat of paint and some plumbing tune-ups.

Clark doesn’t remember you told him about this—you used the excuse that Grant ’s company are handymen (and women) who come in between other jobs,—so the front desk kid calls you while you’re out running errands one day.

Two ‘dudes’ want to stay in room eight on the end. So? Let them. Those are the people who fix things. Clark just says “kay.”

When you pull into the lot hours later, you don’t expect to find Grant sitting on the curb, filthy and exhausted in some gym clothes, a plastic bag set at his feet.

“Wha’ch’a waiting for?” you call with the window down, hoping his spirits can lift easily.

Grant peers up at you through long lashes. He’s had a knock-down drag-out with a field of bramble…or something. That’s when you notice dark, dried blood in the grime stuck to him, and he lets out a long sigh.

“Sa—Tom used all the hot water,” he huffs, ��so I’m biding my time.”

Their room’s water tank, the one due for maintenance, is going to take an eternity to reheat, and it’s the worst luck that there really are no other rooms available.

“Hop on in. You can use the bath up at the house.”

He looks just as startled as you by the invitation, but in no simple terms can you express how bad it is to have a huge guy covered in blood hanging out in front of your rural motel. That’s horror movie bait.

You know Grant. You trust him. All he needs is to clean himself up.

He checks behind him again. The same mix of seeking approval or seeking the cover of ignorance returns to his pretty features, and he trots over to the passenger seat of the car, plastic bag in hand.

He helps you bring in the groceries and supplies from town even though you point him in the direction of the upstairs bathroom immediately. There’s a big jacuzzi tub in there, and he is welcome to soak for however long he wants. You’ll even wash his clothes in the mean time, if he’d like.

Grant seems hesitant to accept or argue.

You press on.

Showing him where everything is in the bathroom takes a minute. You fish around a cupboard for the muscle-relaxing milk additive, explaining it may help him…if needed. You don’t know what’s happened, so you’re flying blind for options.

When the tap turns off ten minutes later, silence descends, but he never handed you stuff to wash. You knock and try the door, just to crack it open so he can hear you.

First, you notice the color of the water. He used the milk bath alright, but whatever washed immediately off him has saturated and soured the clean white into a rusty tan. Second, you pick up the pile of clothes and find more in the plastic bag, except…it’s a suit with a star decal half-ripped and dangling from the chest. Third, you realize you can’t see him in the water at all, not his feet, not his head, no bubbles, so you rush in and shove your hands beneath the surface.

He shoots up in alarm, gasping and sloshing to a different wide, rounded corner of porcelain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you shriek, hands out and spread wide. “I just thought—I don’t know—I didn’t know if you’d—sorry!”

He rubs his hands down his face and over his dripping hair. He doesn’t even speak; he just waves for you to stop apologizing and clears water shot up his nose.

You have to collapse to the fuzzy rug and hold your heart before it beats right out of your ribcage. You still repeat “sorry” a few more times and then manage an impressed “wow, you kept all the water in.”

He thunks his head back to the lip of the tub and props up one leg, his knee cresting the surface. “I have a talent…”

The dirt, despite how much clearly came off already, is smeared grossly across him.

He looks so tired.

“May I—“ you grab the shampoo bottle all the way at his feet “—help?”

Defeated in more ways than one, he nods through the same concerned and confused gaze that’s become his signature. He maneuvers nearer you while you carefully wet your hands, starting a lather. His head stays down, spine exposed, as you massage at the base of his skull.

His eyes shut.

Your heart now swells with accomplishment; you gave this man a moment of peace.

Fingers gliding over the sinewy, tight bands beneath soft hairs, you press circles around and around his scalp. He cranes backwards while you move up and over the crown of his head, and by just above his ears, he’s laying his full weight in the water, lax against the rim.

You keep going long after his hair is strictly clean, though you’ll recommend he rinse after soaking because the water is too foul to count on.

He remains quiet, so you dip your hands in the water at his shoulders, shake them about, and move on to scrubbing his face clean, too, working down from the hairline and over his beard.

Somewhere around his throat, the man sniffs.

He sniffs again, raising a hand from the water to stop yours.

“My name isn’t…” His eyes open finally, only to stare blankly at the ceiling. “My name is Steve.”

“Okay,” you say, abandoning the washing to sit back on the mat again. “Do you want me to call you that or Grant?”

He turns, brows furrowed, and in the most authoritative voice, he replies, “you can’t tell anyone.”

You rest your chin on the lip of the tub, too. “I know. I won’t.”

Eyes locked, you two stare at each other for a long beat.

“The Captain America suit kinda gave it away though,” you whisper, and to your surprise and delight, Steve flicks water at you in retaliation.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, “handle yourself in here while I go start the laundry.”

You stretch and almost—almost—kiss his forehead because, for whatever reason, that feels right, but at the last second you tuck your head down, acting like you were just standing up. You can’t bring yourself to look back at him while gathering the clothes.

You keep busy downstairs, scrubbing at a few spots of caked on muck, trying not to listen to the sounds of splashing, the squeaking as he moves around, the rush of the draining bath, and the tap turning back on to rinse him again. You scramble to find the biggest t-shirt and pair of pants you own (although, come to think of it, Steve’s got fairly small hips, so you grab some stretchy sweats) and hand them through the door when realizing he has nothing else to wear.

He emerges with several visible cuts and scrapes but dismisses your offer to treat them.

“It’s not worth the effort. They’ll be gone by morning.”

You’ve decided something: if he doesn’t bring it up, you won’t either.

Whatever he wants to tell you, whenever he wants to tell it, you don’t ask. You are used to keeping guests’ confidence—not that anyone tells you deep, dark secrets, but you refuse to gossip about cleanliness or things in the trash—and ‘Grant’ will be no different.

You can, however, still tease him.

“Ready to share that queen bed with Tom?” You give his beefy arm a playful punch.

Steve groans.

“Kidding,” you beam. “I’m not making you walk that path in the dark right now. An elk could get ya!”

He pinches tired eyes, a ghost of a smirk realigning the hairs of his beard. You imagine that on any other day, he would put up more of a fight, but he’s fought enough.

“Yeah, okay. As long as I won’t scare the daylights out of your parents by being on the couch in the morning.” Steve steps over to the landing at the top of the stairs.

“They’re at a hospitality conference. I run the place…mostly. Besides, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t offer you a bed that fits you?” You dramatically bow and indicate your room. “This way, please, sir.”

Good thing he has no fight left in him. His eyes narrow adorably, but he doesn’t budge.

“I should let Tom know.”

“There is a phone in there, too. I’ll dial room eight.”

You get him some water, hanging his clothes to dry, offering as much privacy as you can in an old house with thin walls.

“Yeah, hi, it’s…yes, yes, I’m… Yeah, I know. I know, Sam, just—you don’t have to laugh about it. She let me use the bath, is all. You’re the one who—Well, don’t take all the damn wa—hello? Hello?” Steve is staring at the receiver of the land line when you appear in the doorway. “Uh, he…gets it.”

He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing around your neither childish nor sterile room. You put the glass down on your side table instead of handing it to him.

“Okay, I think you need rest,” you add, sweeping your hand down his bare arm.

You marvel at how the edges of his cuts are already shrinking, knitting back together in near-realtime. Your fingertips trace around the skin like an interactive roadmap.

First heal this, then he needs this, and this is deeper here.

You wonder whether he feels pain the same as everyone else. Is it dulled? Does he just have to ignore how much and how frequently he hurts because it goes away sooner? That’s a sad thought to you. Just because he’ll be okay, doesn’t mean he should suffer more.

He’s a miracle. As Grant, Steve, Cap, or nobody at all, he’s still a miracle.

“You don’t have to go…”

The last of the evening blurs as you wake, but you remember Steve needed this. He asked you to stay.

Spooning is the only way to fit on the bed together. After finishing your own bedtime routing, you began behind the giant man, curled tight, lightly scratching over his broad shoulders and arms. He fell asleep so quickly, and you don’t recall how long after that you both turned over. You had to drape Steve’s awkward arm around you, show him he could hold you close, assure him he can be as comfortable as he likes.

Whichever way he settled is infinitely better than falling off the bed, and you’re grateful he’s accommodating in a small space. You suppose he has to be. Though, for a man as dense as a brick wall, he is shockingly pliant around you.

Shame you have to stretch, ruining the picture of fitting puzzle pieces you’ve become.

Arms out and legs long, you roll, restless on the one side for too long in the night. Steve shifts around your moves, laying his head on your arm instead of the pillow. His arm that was your pillow wedges down by your waist instead.

Your knees knock his, so even in sleep, he lets them slot through, legs entangled and…his erection laying over your thigh, the tip poking your hip.

Your body tenses for a split second, the muscles of your leg brush harder against his cock, and Steve groans softly, the arm draped over you pulling your body closer.

He’s still asleep, breathing easy, his features totally relaxed.

His golden hair shines in the early light, and he’s so, so beautiful.

You move stray locks from his face, enjoying how he nuzzles and sighs as you play. Quiet, lazy touches.

His hips nudge forward for friction. His fingers grab at your nightshirt. One of his shifts angles his length to drive against your mound instead, and you gasp involuntarily, having smothered your excitement for too long.

He stirs, a heavier, longer breath followed by Steve's whole body going rigid and his eyes squeezing shut. He tries to bury his face in your arm, and you can’t help it. You hope he’ll continue.

You shush him, carding through his hair to soothe him as you did in the bath.

There’s nothing wrong.

He can feel good.

He should feel good.

You want him to feel good. Hell, you don’t say it, but you need to make him feel good.

Steve still won’t face you. He leans closer, shielding himself with your chest, but he doesn’t pull his hips away.

You can hear him thinking through his options groggily, and in your nervousness, you pull at the fistful of hair in your hand.

Steve whimpers and juts his pelvis forward.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Did you like that? Does that feel nice, Stevie?”

His abs flutter with a spasming exhale, but he says nothing. His rough hands dig into your back while he desperately seeks more friction.

You let him—you encourage him—to keep going.

“Whatever you need…it’s okay.”

He pants into your skin, making you sweat while he dissolves into a mewling mess of shame, taking what he deserves.

He bends his leg for leverage, the sole of his foot pressing flush to your calf. You feel his thumping heartbeat along all of your skin that touches his. He swallows moans which sound hollow and deep where they die in his chest before Steve grunts and stretches, the whole underbelly of his cock rubbing your inner thigh and baiting your clit mercilessly with almost-contact.

You release his hair, asking “do you want my han—”

But it’s too late.

Steve seizes you in his last moments hard before he stills, palms so wide you’ll feel the marks over an entire shoulder blade and the breadth of skin from your ass to your ribcage.

You yelp, the nails of your trapped hand clawing at the sheets around you. It’s a good pain. It’s worth it to witness how his body melts into yours after he comes. He’s lax and heavy, pathetic convulsions of ecstasy subsiding.

You’re only just starting to feel the wet fabric on your thigh when he peels away and rushes to the bathroom.

The best thing for him is to act normal. It is normal for him to be hard in the morning, to want contact and satisfaction, and the truth is it’s perfectly normal for you to dream of providing that for him. You want that contact with him. You are satisfied when he is satisfied.

That's scary because it's a secret as hidden from you both as his identity now, but you won't talk about it. If he doesn't ask, then he doesn't want the answer. It's better that way.

So that was okay, and this is okay.

It's okay, and you tell him when you bring his gym clothes back to the door. You repeat it as he walks out of your home unable to look you in the eye, his partially-destroyed past life wadded up in a fresh plastic bag.

At the bottom of the porch steps, he turns, still focused on the ground.

“Thank you for the…the bath.”

You can’t tell anyone about him—about how you feel for him—not even him. It wouldn’t be right. He doesn’t want that.

“I’m glad you feel better, Grant.”

A/N: Google, Play 'Hopelessly Devoted To You.' *starts weeping some more*

[Next Part: Sensitive Boy, Part I]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year

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Santa Tell Me

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You needed protection. Steve was only too un(willing) to take you in his mountain.

Warnings: Swearing, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: One shot that has more that 5k words. One day, I’ll get over Chris Evans. But today isn’t the day. My Christmas gift to you hihi merry christmas lovely humans~

“No.”

A door slammed on Bucky’s face. He had not even said a word and yet, his best friend, Steve Rogers took one look at him and decided that it was best to slam the door in his face.

This punk, he thought.

Bucky took a deep breath before turning to look at the lady hiding behind his back. He offered you an assuring smile, pointing his thumb on the closed door before making a face as though saying that his friend was unnecessarily grumpy.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I think it’s menopause.”

Bucky cleared his throat before knocking once again.

The door opened with excessive force and once again, the brawny man appeared. Now that he didn’t slam the door, you were able to see what he really looked like.

What your supposedly temporary sanctuary looked like.

What he looked like.

When Bucky Barnes showed you what his best friend looked like, you thought that he seemed like an old-fashioned yet friendly man. From what Bucky told you, Steve used to be a captain in the military, until he quitted. The man just one day decided to retire because, and you quoted Bucky, ‘the man was simply fed up with people’s bullshit’.

You thought he looked handsome in his military uniform.

The hulking man in front of Bucky looked like the man in the photograph, yet at the same time so different. The Steve standing tall in front of you had beard on his face. In comparison to the photo, he now sported a longer hair that framed his manly face. You noted that his locks looked darker now. He was even bulkier now, too. The man on the photo looked like a hero. The one in front of you looked like an anti-hero.

“Heeeey,” Bucky grinned at Steve before slapping his arm in a friendly gesture. “I was just talking about you! So this is-“

“We’re the same age,” Steve cut Bucky off, glaring at him with his intense eyes before stepping closer to the equally huge man. You almost wondered how Bucky did not look intimidated at all when you remembered that underneath Bucky’s friendly persona was a man as deadly as him.

Steve never once looked at your direction as if you were inconsequential to him. Well, you thought, of course you were. To him, you were a nuisance. Bucky was not the one assigned to your case, yet you were immensely grateful that he stepped in once he noticed how the other man was bungling your case and almost caused your demise. That was to say it kindly when in truth, you walked out of their office one day after meeting with the other sergeant to go over your case. He assured you that the case was simple and that your life was not in grave danger. One moment you were crossing the road and was about to enter your car, and the next thing you knew a car was driving alarmingly fast to where you were standing. Your fight and flight instinct seemed to fail you as you did nothing but looked at the car with wide eyes and stuck limbs.

You should have been dead.

You would have been dead if it weren’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes and impeccable speed. And well, his metal arm. You felt a powerful arm tugged you behind a car, shielding you with his body and metal arm as the assailant pointed a gun at you and began shooting. The loud bangs from the weapons felt like it went on forever. Bucky had his other arm wrapped around you and he felt your uncontrollable trembles. He looked down and noticed how pale you were.

And he hated it.

He loathed seeing someone took advantage of helpless people.

Perhaps, that was what made him snapped. With practiced precision, Bucky pointed his gun and with a singular shot, he managed to hit one of the wheels. The car crashed to the post with deafening sound of collision. A moment passed before the forces were able to cautiously walked to the car, their guns pointed at the injured assaulters.

Bucky thought they were all useless.

After he made sure that you were indeed unharmed, Bucky gently dragged you back to the headquarters and berated the sergeant in charged of your case. He called the man, and you quoted: ‘a simpering buffoon’, ‘an intolerable fuck waffle’, ‘a spam email’, and lastly, he likened the sergeant to a wet sock. By the time he was done verbally kicking the man, the sergeant looked like he was one insult away from crying. Bucky thought that he deserved it. One mistake could cost someone’s life, and it almost costed yours.

Had the man simply looked deeper into the case, had he just noticed the familiar patterns of the crime, then he would know that the man you unknowingly outed was none other than the villain they had tried so hard to capture. He could not simply hand this case to another person. No, he knew what needed to be done, what level of protection you needed in order to get out of this disaster alive, and who could protect you as he resolved the case.

Which brought the two of you in front of his old friend’s cabin in the middle of nowhere. Okay, that might have been a tad bit exaggerated. Technically, Steve had neighbors in this mountains…just not near him…for miles..

Bucky cocked his head to the side, clearly confused as to what Steve said. “What?”

“We’re the same age. Therefore, If I am experiencing menopause, shouldn’t you be too?” Steve answered scathingly, clearly taking offense on Bucky’s senseless quip. He squinted his eyes at the equally tall man. Bucky’s jaw dropped dramatically, his hand covering his mouth.

“What?” He gasped theatrically. “Meaning to say you can still procreate?”

Steve clearly wasn’t amused. He stepped closer and to your astonishment, Bucky ran behind you. He humorously cowered on your back, using you as a human shield between him and the slighted former captain.

And that was the first time Steve Rogers laid his eyes on you.

To an untrained eye, no one could see him paused. But Bucky saw it. It was as though someone knocked the air out of his friend’s lungs. It was as though you were an occurrence that he never saw coming.

As the case may be, Steve led the two of you in his cozy cabin. The fire from the chimney made the place considerably warmer. Steve wordlessly placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you. Before you could even express your gratitude, he was already turning his back on you and sat on the chair in front of you and Bucky.

“Where’s my tea?” Bucky asked, looking longingly at the cup in your hands.

Steve merely spread his legs further, getting comfortable as he leveled his glare at his best friend. “She’s a guest.”

“I’m you guest, too!”

Steve shook his head slowly, “No, you’re not. You’re an unwanted nuisance, my acquaintance at best.”

Bucky could only blinked owlishly at his best friend. How could he categorized him as an acquaintance as if he didn’t grow up with him? The audacity. The nerve. But then he remembered, he must be kinder to Steve because he was the one needing a favor from him.

After Bucky went to the kitchen and served himself a tea all while mumbling under his breath how hospitable and recluse his friend had become, he went straight to business.

He laid out the facts, and Steve in turn listened intently. Bucky could see that he was just an inch closer to agreeing, and he needed just a push.

“She knows how to cook! She wouldn’t be a bother to you, right Y/N? You know how to cook?” Bucky exclaimed, his expression hopeful as he looked at you.

You shook your head slowly and you could see him visibly deflate.

“She knows how to do the laundry. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger while she’s here-“

You tapped his broad arm, before scooting closer to him. You whispered sheepishly to him, “I don’t know how to do that, too.”

“What?” he whispered back in astonishment and utter confusion.

Steve watched the two of you with a bored expression. His arms were crossed in front of him as he assessed the situation. This was not the first time Bucky used his space as a safe house. Usually, they only stay for a couple of weeks because that was how quick Bucky moved. When his best friend was intrigued with a case, he became so hyper focused that he only breathed for the case. In addition, the last time Bucky brought someone, he promised that it would be the last one.

And yet, here you were.

He could already feel the headache coming.

“Maybe you two want to talk it out first?” He asked when few minutes passed and you two were still conversing under your breaths.

Bucky offered him a sincere smile. “Come on, punk. For the spirit of Christmas, do it for me.”

He looked at him with deadpanned expression, “It’s October.”

He did not know how, but you and him watched as Bucky drove out of the property with a victorious smile on his face. How he was able to convince him was lost on Steve.

The first week went by quickly. You were somehow starting to be familiar with Steve’s routine. You noticed that early in the morning and before he locked the doors in the evening, he did parameter check. No matter how cold it was outside, he would do it without fail. You would admit that it made you feel safer. For the first time in months, you felt as though you were out of harm’s way. And in turn, you attempted to cook him meals. But that ended up a peril to the both of you…and his house.

You tried your very best to do his laundry, even his underwear. You were confused at first why you were having a hard time removing the stains form them. The look of horror in Steve’s face when he saw you hand washing his delicates was priceless. He was a man of great stature and nothing and no one managed to faze him. Until you.

He was so focused on your hands holding his underwear that he failed to notice how you were able to turn his white shirts into red.

He was still blushing and was unable to look in your eyes when that night, you gently place a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He nodded his gratitude to you before engulfing the cup with his massive hand. He took on sip before he started coughing uncontrollably. In your panicked state, you went to him and touch him for the first time. You rubbed his muscular back, looking at his reddened face.

“What is this?” He asked between coughs. Only when he looked like he was near dying did he look at you.

“A coffee,” you answered.

“With salt?!”

A look of confusion passed your face before you realization dawned on you. Hurriedly, you went to him to take his sorry excuse for a coffee away from him. You were pouring it on the sink when you heard his concerned voice near you. In fact, you failed to notice him move and stand beside you because of your embarrassment.

“What happened?”

You contemplated whether you should tell him, but for his safety (and the safety of his food) you told him. With a deep breath, you turned to look at the tall man beside you.

“I lost my sense of taste.”

“Why?”

“Traumatic brain injury,” you admitted as though this was not a big deal, as though you didn’t almost die that night.

He didn’t need to know how- he had an inclination. Your enemy was powerful. Remarkably powerful that Bucky had asked for his help when he promised never to again. You were in danger.

You thought Steve would attempt to say something comforting like other people. Yet, all he did was to look at you intensely and nod his head as if in acknowledgement of your pain.

The next morning, you woke up to find all the ingredients in the kitchen with label, his beautiful handwriting on each of the container.

It was a cold night in November when Steve and your dynamic changed. You couldn’t sleep that night, your thoughts and anxiety about your future was getting ahead of you. It was as if you no longer had something to look forward to, as if it was solitary or death. You tried everything- from counting sheep, to reciting the alphabet backwards. And yet, you still couldn’t sleep. And so, you decided to warm a glass of milk when you heard it.

A sound of pain.

Fearing that something had happened to Steve, you ran to the side of the house you had never been in. You were thankful that the door was not locked when you barged in. The only weapon in your hand was a wooden spoon you would have used to stir your milk. Your eyes swept over the darkened place to fight the danger off and found none. The danger was in Steve’s mind. He was groaning in his sleep, his brows furrowed, showing his distressed. The sheet was entangled in his muscular limbs, sweat was rolling down his forehead.

He looked like he was in pain.

And you knew what it was, you had experienced what it was. It was something you wanted to run away from, and yet, you couldn’t. You were trapped in your own mind. And tonight, Steve was trapped in his own personal nightmare.

Softly, you brushed your hand on his hair, trying to soothe him. You called his name to wake him up, running your other hand up and down his arm in a pacifying manner.

“Steve, come on. Wake up,” you whispered when he started struggling, his muscles rippling from the intense emotions and anxiety rolling off of him.

“I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you,” you buried your face on his chest. You had read somewhere that pressure was a good thing when someone was experiencing this to keep them grounded. You had desperately prayed that someone would be there for you when you felt like dying.

“I’m here for you..”

You repeated saying that until you felt him move. And only when his breathing turned normal did you look up at his confused and frightened eyes. Seeing as he was now awake, you attempted to move only for him to shackle you to his front with his muscular arms. He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe you were there with him, as if you were an angel that saved him the moment he thought he would perish.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. You were wary at that point. You felt as though you were crossing a line- something that you could never go back to. With his face so close to yours, you could feel something you never should have felt for this was only a temporary dwelling, your resting place.

This had a deadline.

You had gotten good at ignoring how handsome he was, how strong he was, how gentle he was to you… and how patient he was to all your shenanigans.

Most importantly, you were almost successful at ignoring how protective he was of you that he did not even let you cook. Or how he always had his hand on the small of your back when you two were walking outside. Or how he always checked on you each night and bid you good night. Or how he said without words how no harm would come upon you.

Or how feminine he made you feel.

It was so unlike how other men you had dated treated you. No, they didn’t treat you wrong… they just didn’t treat you the way he was treating you. Or look at you the way he was looking at you right now.

“Please,” he whispered.

And stay, you did.

It was before sunset when you opened your eyes. A heavy arm was thrown on your stomach, you back so close to his front that you could feel his warmth and a hardness you knew what it was. You felt a tinge of heat on your core. It had been too long… You could smell Steve this close. And by heavens, he smelled like home.

He smelled like yours.

But you knew you shouldn’t get attached. This would only bring chaos to his peaceful life. You weren’t ignorant to assume that his life in the military was peaceful. He wouldn’t be like how he was last night if not for the terrors he faced during his service.

And falling for him would only bring terror in his life. You could not bring yourself to ruin the peaceful and idle life he made for himself in this mountain.

With a firm decision, you left his bed.

Steve couldn’t remember sleeping as peacefully as he did…or waking up as late as he did that morning. Yet, all the calmness he felt vanished when he woke up without you. He knew he did not dreamed you. You were there. He felt you there. He held you in his arms. You soothed the demons living in his mind.

But where were you now?

His movements were abrupt as he scanned his room. He hastily moved out of his room, sweeping a look at every room he passed. He placated himself by thinking that you might have moved back to your room to sleep only to be disappointed. Your room looked cold. You weren’t there. He felt his heart beating, the sound drumming out of his ribcage that it hurt. He felt as though he could not breathe. With a poorly constrained terror, he started calling out your name loudly as he moved to every room of his house.

And still, you weren’t there.

You left, he was convinced.

And he felt betrayed.

How could you leave just like that when you brought color to his bleak life? When for the first time in years he felt that he wasn’t alone? How could you leave like that when you were able to silence the demons he tried so hard to kill?

He was hunched over the kitchen counter when he heard a door open. Unknowing that you left a bomb to explode by stepping outside, you flashed Steve a small smile. In your hand was a bunch of flowers you had plucked from around the area. Your smile froze when he walked to you like a bull ready to eviscerate his opponent. Barely stepping back, you were unprepared when you felt his powerful arms around you, his body trembling with anger and anxiety.

“S-Steve?”

If he heard you, he didn’t give an ounce of indication. His hold on you tightened, his face buried on your dainty shoulder. It went for so long that you started feeling uncomfortable. Your mind was set from your morning walk that you would go back to treating him like a friend. You were attempting to get out of his hold when he finally did speak.

“Do you even have an ounce of idea what I would do if you end up getting hurt?” His voice was cold when he spoke. He let you go to look at you. His anger was palpable. The calm and quiet Steve you knew was gone.

“I just went out to-“

“And you didn’t think of the danger?” He asked in indignation. The way he was looking at you made you feel like a petulant child, as though you did a terrible mistake. “You didn’t think that Bucky placed you in my care only for you to get hurt because what? You wanted to pick up flowers? Are you that thoughtless-“ He finally trailed off when he saw tears threatening to fall. Your lips were quivering from hurt. Steve suddenly felt at loss. He went too far, he was afraid to admit.

Without meeting his eyes, you stepped out of his hold, placed the flowers on the counter, and went up to your room.

It was hours later when a knock disrupted you from your hateful thoughts toward him and pitying thoughts for your situation. You were pouting when the door opened, revealing the person who vexed you today. You didn’t say anything, merely threw daggers his way. Steve didn’t know how to deal with someone like you, yet he knew he was in the wrong. He let his emotions get the best of him.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said, watching your expressionless face. You hated how he talked to you. There was already someone bungling your life and making it miserable and making you feel like you were so small that he could step on you. You didn’t need another man to do that.

Coldly, you replied, “I only accept apologies in cash.”

And that was how you found yourself in town. Steve was on guard as he walked with you, his towering height made it possible to see everyone. He was serious while you were jumping up and down from excitement. It had been close to half a year since you were out in the public, and this felt like a treat to you. You were so used to living and providing for yourself that when shit happened, it was a big adjustment for you. Yet now, you had no qualm spending his money. It was reparation for damages that he did to you, you thought.

You smiled evilly as he paid for the camera that you bought.

It was not the fanciest, you were not that evil. But it was so long since you last held a camera. You were a photographer, one of the best actually. You were winning contests left and right. One day, you were innocently taking a photo of a landscape, admiring the nature and the vast land before you. Your focus was on the deers wandering aimlessly. You went home that day like any other work day. It was the next day when you were reviewing your photos that you noticed that just behind the deers, almost hidden behind the trees, were three men. One man looked like he was running, the other two was laughing with guns in their hands. It turned out you were a witness to a crime. Not long after, the body was found.

And that was how you got entangled in this whole fiasco.

It was almost December, and the market was already decorated with Christmas lights and in the middle of it all was the huge tree. You pulled Steve in front of it, lifted the camera, and took a picture of the two of you. You were looking at the camera, and he was looking down at you with a small smile in his face.

December came. It was the day before Christmas when Steve found you in the kitchen, attempting once again to cook properly. Regardless of the taste, Steve always ate your food without any reluctance. Yet, what you were cooking looked festive that it confused him.

“Is there an occasion?” He asked as he sipped his coffee, thankfully no longer salty.

“I’m one year closer to death.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my birthday.”

You faced him with a smile. Steve walked to you, before embracing you in his arms. “I am so happy you’re alive, angel. Happy birthday,” he whispered in your ears. He wanted to say how happy he was you were here, too. Yet, he didn’t.

That night, he laid out the table so beautifully. Candles were lit in the middle. Steve cooked for the two of you, and he took out wine from his cellar. You and him were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with wine glass in your hand.

“You never asked me why I had a nightmare,” Steve stated, he was swirling the wine as he looked at you. You could feel his body warmth this close. The wine, the candle, and the way he looked at you felt like this was something intimate.

“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would.”

“You weren’t curious.”

“We all have demons to live with. That’s what I thought. And I hope you defeat your demons,” you admitted before sipping from your glass.

What you didn’t know was his demons were becoming less and less strong the longer you stayed with him, he thought. You could silence them.

“Did you enjoy your birthday, angel?”

“I did. Also, why are you calling me an angel?”

“Because I feel safe with you.”

“What?” You sputtered. If anything, he should be the angel with the way he took you in when he didn’t have to. “If that’s the case, you’re the angel, Steve. You make me feel safe,” you stated with sincerity in your voice.

“I know I’m an imposition to you. I’m thankful that you took me in. Bucky mentioned that he’s almost sure that this will end soon. Thank you for letting me stay here, Steve. Soon, you can have this haven all to yourself. I will never forget your kindness. You’re my angel.”

When you finally looked up, you noticed how serious he was looking at you. His eyes drifted to your lips. Unconsciously, you licked your lips. Suddenly you felt as though you were parched. Steve hated the thought of him living in this mountain without you. You had been here for only close to three months and yet, you changed him. His house no longer felt cold. His house no longer felt empty. He hated the thought of losing you.

He thought that you were meant to be here.

Steve lowered his face to you, inch by inch. Until you felt his lips on you. He kissed you slowly at first, so softly that your eyes fluttered close. It was only when you opened your lips did he kiss you with such intensity that it made your breathless. His hand was on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. His tongue demanded entrance, and you were too willing to give in. The taste of mint and wine on his lips made you kissed him deeper. With his strength, he pulled you on top of him. You were straddling him, and his hands were discovering your curves. The hard evidence of his pleasure was pressed on your core.

You were humping him, all rational thoughts flew out of your brain the moment his lips touched yours. From this angle, you could feel how big he was. You were moaning when his lips skimmed to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your pulse was erratic, he noted. You were as affected as he was. With barely restrained impatience, Steve placed you on the carpeted floor, his body closely following as he topped you. He caressed your soft thigh, your dress falling to your waist which gave him access to your core. As if to tease you, Steve ran his hand from your neck to your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your thong.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you’re dripping wet for me.” Without any warning, he tore your thong away from you. He was in the middle of your parted legs, his look dark as he focused on your core. His finger traced your slit, making you moan as he smirked at how wet you were for him. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Your cunt is so wet for me.”

He slid down. Steve opened your pussy wider with his fingers and with his tongue, he tasted you. You were shocked at how much pleasure he was giving you that when he dove in and ate you like a man starved, you felt yourself go. Yet, he didn’t stop. A finger eased in you as he sucked your clit, moaning with gusto. You were so tight that he wondered how he would fit in you. He was thinking you were his, only his after this.

You were on your second orgasm, your legs shivering when he finally lifted his face. His beard was drenched with your essence, his hair falling on his forehead as he looked at you with heat in his eyes. Your dress was the next to go.

You were too in hazed from your orgasms, and his mouth sucking ferociously on your breast that you didn’t know how he got you and him naked. Yet, the next thing you knew, he was pressing his hard cock against your pussy. He kept pressing the head against you.

“You want me,” he said darkly. It wasn’t lost on you that it was not a question. Yet, you nodded your head. Because at that moment, you did want him more than anything else.

Steve rub his cock on your swollen clit before sliding it down on your tight hole. And then he shoved it inside you, pushing you to the edge once again.

He was only too glad you were too into it that you didn’t notice he had no protection. Or that he came inside you.

He was only too glad to taste you when you were awake. He had craved hearing your moans.

He was only too glad that you were a heavy sleeper some nights that he was able to spread your legs and taste you. He even marked your pussy with his cum on some nights. Of course, you would never know that. It was his secret.

Your talk about how this would all end, how he was going to be alone soon made him crazy. You didn’t know, but you unknowingly traded a dangerous man to another devil. He’d have a talk with Bucky, of course. Bucky would understand that he had to keep you. You’d go nowhere. You were his. He had been good all his life. Didn’t he deserve a Christmas gift, too? You and a baby soon, perhaps?

He smiled at your sleeping form. He couldn’t stop himself from hugging you closer. The snow was falling beautifully outside, the fire had long simmered. The sun was starting to rise. This was what Christmas truly felt like, Steve thought.

When you finally stirred, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, my angel.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfic

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eloquentreverie · 8 months

Text

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

pairing: nomad!steve rogers x female reader

warning: established relationship, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), steve being soft.

summary: Your soldier finally comes home to you in autumn.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Autumn in New York always brings a sense of familiarity to Steve. There's that crisp, refreshing air, the leaves changing colors and falling onto the sidewalks of Brooklyn. It's a welcome sight for his war-torn mind. He takes one final breath as he approaches the apartment complex, cutting the engine and nudging the brake on the bike. He walks up the steps and makes his way into the building. The scent of hot cider hovers in the air as he walks in the door, scanning the room for his girlfriend.

He can't help but grin when he spots her nestled in a chair by the window, cozy under a red and black plaid blanket. He knows waking her up is wrong, but being away has been challenging. His heart skips a beat as his knuckles lightly brush against the apples of her cheeks. It's been a while since he's been able to see her, and he can't help but want to touch her now.

Y/N's eyes flutter open, and despite her blurry vision, she can make out the shadowy image of the man bent over her. "Steve?" Y/N whispers, staring in disbelief. Steve greets her with a warm smile and gently brushes his knuckles against her jaw. "Hey, sweetheart!" Y/N's eyes widen, and she throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He holds her close, wrapping his strong arms around her back. A warm, tingly feeling spreads through her body. Taking a moment to cherish the moment, she sinks her fingers into his tousled hair before pulling away slightly to study his face.

It's not a dream, and he's there. "You're really here," she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief and joy. His warm hand holds hers, and they lean their foreheads together, breathing each other in. "I'm here," Steve promises, his voice low and gentle. He leans towards her, and their lips meet in a tender, soft kiss. The warmth in his breath and the gentle touch of his lips fill Y/N with sweetness and hope.

He wants to hold her close, to feel her skin against his, to embed the moment in his memory and replay it repeatedly in his mind. Y/N pulls away for a moment, looking up at him and noticing the smeared lip gloss on his mouth, a small giggle escaping her lips. It reminds Steve that they're real, that this moment is real, and that she's really here with him.

"What? What is it?" Steve asks, brushing her curls from her face.

Y/N's voice is a mix of happiness, relief, and the tiny edge of sadness that always follows joy. "I've been dreaming of this. Touching you, seeing you again... I missed you so much." With those words, she feels a warm glow in her chest, a sense of coming home. Steve cups her face, his lips meeting hers again with a tender warmth that seems to sink into her bones. His hands slide up and down her waist, and she breathes in his scent, reveling in his closeness.

She pulls away again, her lips twisting into a big smile. She takes his hands in her own, her gaze laced with love and deep admiration for her super-soldier. "How long can you stay?" Her voice is soft, almost inaudible. She tries not to assume the worst, scolding herself for thinking too far ahead instead of cherishing this moment. But it's been so long since she's had this moment with him that she can't help but feel worried that it might be fleeting. And if it is, she wants to prepare herself for the heartbreak that always comes with his departure.

Steve gives her a sympathetic grin, his rough and calloused hand still caressing the supple skin of her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ll never leave you again. I promise," he tells her, leaning down to leave a kiss on her forehead in an attempt to calm her nerves. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. I love you.”

She takes a deep breath, one she hadn't realized she'd been holding in all this time, and chuckles, shaking her head. "Gosh, this still feels so unreal. You don’t have to make anything up to me. What matters is that you’re here." The words seem to hang in the air for a moment before she looks down at their now intertwined hands. "You look tired. Do you need to rest, or do you want some food? I could cook us up something."

A wave of exhaustion washes over him, and he rubs his temple as a headache grows. He'd been so caught up in the moment, adrenaline and happiness rushing through his veins that he'd hardly realized how tired he was from the recent battle. “I'd like that very much, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly, his hand falling from her cheek as he pulls away for a moment, glancing toward the kitchen. “Do you need me to help you out?” he asks, his brows pulled together as he looks down at her.

She pauses, noticing his tired eyes and exhausted demeanor. A small pout forms on her lips as concern washes over her features. “Steve, are you sure? If you want to take a nap right now, we can always eat later.”

A soft sigh escapes him before he nods, a small smile curling on his lips. “You're right. I'm just happy to be with you again. I'm so worn out, darling, but I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else.” He whispers quietly, closing his eyes and shrugging. His rough, calloused fingers grip her chin, and his gaze shifts to her lips.

“Well, how about this?” she begins, reaching out and taking his hands in hers. “Why don’t we take a nap together? Then, when you’re rested, we can have dinner. Sound good?” She asks, still speaking in a soft tone as she tugs on his arm, pulling him toward their bedroom.

“That sounds perfect,” he nods, a grin spreading across his face. He wants nothing more than to hold her in his arms. He can’t remember how many nights he’s dreamt about touching her, holding her. Steve follows her into the bedroom, his grin only widening. Everything is right where he left it. The smell of fresh linen greets him, along with gray blankets and ivory sheets, the wooden nightstands adorned with picture frames of the two of them. To the right is his desk, which is a mess of papers and his old sketchbooks.

Y/N walks a few steps toward the dresser and starts rummaging through some of his old clothes. After a few moments, she pulls out a worn blue t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. She can feel Steve’s gaze on her before she looks up. He takes in her outfit: a dark green t-shirt, a gray cardigan, and black sweatpants. His eyes move up to her face, her curls brushing against the top of her shoulders. He traces her features, engraving them into the back of his mind forever. His expression is filled with love and adoration for her.

After a few minutes, she turns to him and hands him his clothes. “Thank you, Y/N.” He sets down the pile of clothes on top of the dresser before he begins to strip down. He starts with the gun holster, then his utility belt. She tries not to get distracted as she pulls down a few of the covers, but then she notices his tired fingers fumbling with the buckle of his trousers.

“Here, do you mind if I?” Her words hand in the air and as she looks up. She smiles, placing her hands over his. Their eyes lock. Steve gives her a gentle nod, and she undoes the belt and unzips his pants. She takes his hand and leads him to the bed. Once there, they both climb into bed, their bodies tangled together as they cuddle.

Slowly, the rhythm of his breathing changes and she listens to him as he begins to drift off. As soon as the room falls silent, she looks up, focusing on the ceiling, and listens. Then, her fingertips dance over his torso as she tries to commit to memory the moment they were sharing together. A moment, she didn't want to end. Steve sighs into her, his hand traveling up and down her back until she feels his lips land a light kiss on her forehead and she hears his whispered 'I love you.' Y/N sinks deeper and settles against his chest, eyes growing heavy, until she finds the sleep they both need.

The two finally settle into a deep and blissful slumber. Unbeknownst to the super soldier, it will be the greatest sleep of his life. The two of them rested until late evening. The sun had set and she groaned as she stirred from her slumber, her stomach growling. Her eyes fluttered open, feeling his arms still tightly wound around her waist. A smile rested on his lips as she pecked his cheek. "Wake up, Stevie," she whispered in his ear, eliciting a hum from him as his eyes creaked open. "How about breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed?" He smiled brightly and got on top of him.

Steve leaned on his elbows as she giggled at him. Her lips were pursed, thinking if she should let him get his way. And in the end, she decided to give in. "Alright, fine. You stay here and I'll go cook us some dinner." She tried getting off him, but her mission proved quite difficult for the blond hero, gripping her tight so that she wouldn't slip off. Y/N could feel his cool blue gaze baring into her. Her face was hot and crimson. And he did everything that he possibly could to make her want him back, want to stay and have him touch her all over. "Not just yet. One more kiss," he demanded, his tone low and husky.

With an exasperated huff, Y/N threw her hands in the air. She knew that it wouldn't end here, and once Steve got her all hot and bothered, he wouldn't leave her alone until she was done. Until he's had her several times to the point that she was utterly spent. Y/N felt Steve's fingers crawl underneath the hem of her shirt. "Steve," she whined with a small laugh. "I'm hungry."

With this statement, the superhero propped himself up on his elbows and cocked a brow, licking his lower lip. A subtle movement to entice her. "And I'm horny."

Groaning once more as he touched her, she nearly gave in, wanting nothing more than to strip him bare, jump on him and screw him till sundown, and that was saying a lot. But before that happened, the both of them needed nourishment before the ravenous wolf inside him turned on her. She gently pushed his hands away, grinning down at him. "After dinner. I need to have my strength if we're going to do strenuous activities. Right?" she teased before pulling away and rising from the bed. Y/N grinned even more at the way his face fell and the small frown that marred his pretty boy face, looking as if someone kicked his favorite puppy. As she walked towards the bedroom door, his hand jutted out.

"Why not just grab some chips? Isn't that good enough?" The blond practically pleaded as she got ready. Y/N gave his toned frame a mischievous glance over her shoulder and smirked. "So impatient. I think I'm gonna need more than chips. Looks like you're just going to have to wait." She ran a hand down his bare chest before slipping out of his grasp and walking toward the kitchen.

Steve sighed, shaking his head but then, a light bulb went off in his head. If she was going to make him wait then he'd do everything in his power to tease her.

Meanwhile, Y/N worked on warming up leftover chicken pot pie in the oven. For the first time in months, she could enjoy some downtime in their home, not having a care in the world except Steve and her alone together. When it was his first arrival home after months of her dealing with the trauma, her heart, and mind swirled with emotions. After weeks of trying to accept what he was doing for others while giving no regard to his own well-being, her annoyance soon gave away. But no matter what, he always showed that her well-being is what is most important to him, constantly worrying about her needs, always finding ways to be a part of her life regardless.

Her thoughts took the best out of her. All it did was make her think about what happens when he's not here, when her dreams and wishes collide with reality. As she pondered about her life before Steve, he snuck up behind her and pulled her toward him. In an effort not to frighten her, he reached out and moved her curly locks over her shoulder and placed his mouth next to her ear, planting kisses on the curve of her jaw, inching his mouth down to the base of her neck.

"You smell so good." he complimented her. "It's intoxicating. The moment you left the bed, I just couldn't resist. I got up immediately and followed you all the way here. Did you know that?" Y/N turned off the oven after noticing the golden brown color of the pastry, closing her eyes as he grazed his mouth with hers. She turned around to face him and held his gaze.

"You're being distracting," she said with a small grin, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt the heat of his bare chest radiating against her tank top. "I can see that." Steve leaned toward her again, whispering softly.

"But I don't think you really have any control of what I'll do to you right now. You had your fun waking me up all by yourself. And now, you don't seem so excited to keep the fun going. I think I'll have to convince you." His teeth grazed the skin underneath her jaw, lightly sinking into her soft flesh. Y/N could hardly keep herself from moaning, feeling all of her nerve endings firing up from the way his hands wandered all around her body, focusing solely on pleasuring her. She could almost get lost in his hypnotic voice, only drawing her attention from his gentle bite on her neck.

Steve licked where he bit, massaging her hips with a glimmer of pure desire shining in his crystal blues. "We could have so much more fun somewhere more private..." he murmured against her neck. Y/N brought him closer to her, entangling her fingers in his blonde locks. Steve met her half-lidded gaze and smiled mischievously. "So what'll it be, princess? Your bed or the floor?"

Moments like these always remind him why he fights so hard. How just those sparkling doe-eyes make every battle worth every bruise, scar, and cut.

A small smirk crept up on her face. She turned off the stove before walking back to him. "Our bed." she responded before she poked his chest, "but you owe me real food afterward." She warned, her eyes filled with mirth. Steve chuckled softly, kissing her. The woman instantly melted into his loving embrace.

"So you'd rather lie in our bed while you devour me in whole? Now how does that sound like a loss? Sounds like the only win if I have any say in this." His lips collided with her jaw before leading her backward towards the bedroom. Her heart is beating rapidly, anticipating his next touch. "Just hurry before you miss the real feast." she managed to blurt out. He never makes her wait long. Never does, especially right now.

Steve crashes his lips on hers, kissing her hard with their hands frantically exploring the other. Once he's sure they're too preoccupied, he lets one arm leave her waist for a split second. Y/N thought nothing of it until she heard the soft click of their bedroom lock as she moaned into the kiss. He pushes her further inside, backing her towards their massive queen-size bed, nearly stumbling over it as the edge hits the back of her knees. Steve breaks the kiss to hold her up. "Sssh baby, just lie on your back, I've got you." She swallowed hard and slowly lowered down, resting her head on his pillows. "You didn't have to lock the door." Y/N felt somewhat silly as her face was heated, and she noticed he'd locked the door after.

"It's not you. I did that, because I don't want anything else," he uttered. The lights illuminate his features, reflecting like an angel before her very eyes. Her hair splayed out on their soft and inviting linen, gazing back up at Steve as he straddles her, kissing down her neck and chest as he starts to tear away her sweatpants.. "All I want in my life is you and nobody else. So for one night, I'll block out the rest."

He'd rid her of the black pants, and threw them across the room in a fury. "You're the only one I crave on these cold autumn nights." Steve grinned as his fingers traced her inner thigh, so close yet so far away from the spot between her legs that craves his attention the most.

"Steve," He gazes at her through thick golden lashes. She reaches forward and clasps his face between her dainty fingers. Y/N doesn't need words, she's known this all along. They only ever want to do right by one another and each day she is filled with more and more love to shower him. "Show me then. Show me that I'm the center of your universe." she gasps as his eyes meet her's, laced with pure lust. His head was practically in-between her legs now, her arousal smelling just as sweet as it tasted as she spread her legs and lay flat on the mattress.

The warm orange light illuminated the curve of her face as his vision drunkenly scans from the crown of her head all the way down to the bend in her knee before his hands sweep beneath her soft supple flesh to prop up the back of her leg.

A sharp gasp of excitement filled the room the moment his head dipped between her thighs. The sensation shot down her spine, eliciting goosebumps to crawl along her exposed flesh. He keeps them hooked in his arms, forcing her hips to press firmly against his mouth. A soft squeak eked from her lips once his tongue wedged itself between her slick entrance and his upper lip before pecking a trail of small kisses to her sensitive bundle of nerves, just the mere breath coming from his soft thin lips causing it to quiver with pleasure.

She can almost hear her heartbeat pulsating through her temple. The sweet ecstasy runs straight from her womb to her toes, intensified each time he dips his tongue inside to taste her again, knowing all of the right places to lick her like a peach dripping from its juices. One hand crawls back up her quivering thighs and brushes over the folds of her labia, squeezing them between his teeth in unison with his skilled tongue.

She wasn't the least bit prepared when a finger entered her wet cunt. He thrusts, pumping two digits inside of her without warning, and she quivers, becoming unable to hold herself up any longer as she lies limp from the magic that coursed through her body. His hair tickled her skin while he fucks her with his mouth and fingers, her body responding with pleasure beyond comparison. He pauses briefly, inhaling her natural aroma and basking in her heavenly essence, and whispers into her heat, "Don't cum until I say so."

Y/N sucks in a breath as his velvety voice dances along her senses before Steve closes the space between his mouth and her aching center once more. "Don't worry, I'll make it happen." Steve winked while his tongue swept her cunt again, beginning a slow, teasing dance upon her sensitive bud. He turns his wrist slightly to plunge another thick finger, tucking it along the others while the muscle around him trembled and clamped like a vise.

As his fingers pumped within the confines of her trembling flesh, the rough part of his lips glides smoothly over the smoothness of hers. Her breaths turned erratic from his relentless pleasurable torture, teetering on the edge until he finally decides she's earned her right to cum all over his fingers. Her hand shot out in search of his, gripping onto him tightly with all of her might as though their lives depended on it.

He strokes the fleshy bit on the roof of her inner walls, pushing against it over and over again, using the stiff tip of his tongue to roll over the plump nub. He wants her. He always does. All of him and all of his heart. Witnessing the woman he loves let herself go right in front of his eyes like an explosion of fire is enough for him. A complete revelation.

He takes great care to lower her body, which had risen on its own accord the more he stroked the source of her pleasure. His lips would occasionally lose their purchase on her soaking clit in the moments between, but he would always kiss his way back to her heated center, regaining a steadier rhythm again and again. It was with another tender flick of the tongue that her pleasure overtook and washed away the last remnants of awareness, leaving her a writhing mess of sweat-beaded skin and high-pitched mewls.

Y/N sighed with a shaky breath. Steve swallowed every drop as he drank deep of her sweet juices.

Her fingers brushed through her lover's hair as her mind attempted to find a solid anchor in the tumultuous sea of her orgasm. His pace relents just enough, and his eyes slide up to check on the boneless pile. The blond-haired male kissed a smoldering path to her belly button before pulling up the hem of her tank top and over her head before his mouth found one of her breasts. As his mouth opened around one breast, his teeth sunk into it before rolling the nipple within her warmth. "Just one moment, sweetheart,"

A soft groan escaped her mouth. Her entire body writhed against him, trapped between the relief she felt and the anticipation of having to wait any longer. In her state, it was impossible for her to register the meaning of his words, but she would surely have nodded to even an insincere affirmation.

"Steve, I can't wait any longer. I need you." she croaked between ragged breaths. Her trembling hands run through his soft golden hair, playing with his strands in the heat of the moment. He chuckled quietly at her whines, pausing to savor the beauty lying under him.

After kissing her stomach, he lifted his head with a wide grin on his face. Patience, pretty girl, we're only beginning. I wanna take my time. Taste and kiss every square inch of your body."

The dark look in his sapphire-blue eyes made the tightness inside her almost unbearable, but the thought was more than welcomed. Before she could so much as respond to his words, his teeth dug in her plump flesh again, drawing a strained hiss as he sucks it back into his hot mouth, soothing the nip immediately after.

His pace was agonizingly slow at the sight of his darling below him, glistening in the orangey hue. It was painful, yet in an entirely delicious manner, she tried with her will not to explode on him right there and then.

"Patience," He repeated before lifting her leg with his hand before bending her knee. Gently, and still with all the sensuality in the world, and trailed light nips and kisses all along the side of her knee. Y/N's fingertips comb through his hair before resting upon the broadness of his shoulder. "You don't get to see this view enough."

What he gives her, the loving admiration he has to offer, no one would ever compare. No one but him, who always, and forevermore will own her whole heart, unconditionally and in the good times. Y/N never questioned this in the slightest. They have a perfect love, so rare and unknown to many in a cruel world.

"But God help me." he said, now slowly inching up towards her stomach, trailing up with wet kisses, his eyes still admiring the smooth curves and hills of her body, completely bare beneath him. "How I wanna feast on you forever. And feel the sweet ache of your body after, just in case I forget... I want to remember all of it, sweetheart."

Steve hooked a hand around her midsection and lifted her body up and off the sheets, helping her on top of him in one smooth movement. Just as he guided her, a firm yet gentle grip on her arm, holding her hand behind his neck as he encouraged her body up to him, as she easily straddled his broad and naked form.

Y/N's forehead pressed into his collar, lips lightly ghosting and gasping with each one. The unyielding rock of their pelvis' rocking in synchrony, the grip she'd regained on him returned, fingers digging into his shoulder and with the other on his hair, massaging him between soft murmurs.

"Yeah?" His fingertips slid up and down, mapping and massaging the tense muscles between her shoulder blades, dragging over and cupping the base of her neck on each upward pass. As he traveled up to the nape, he simultaneously nuzzled her ear, moving up so that his stubble scratched the thin layer of skin there, and carefully applied pressure that soothed the raw sensation away.

She was drunk, beyond words, nothing was going to fix the raw burn her vocal cords received any time she cried out too soon. All the same, she was right where he wanted her. "Mhm." the low rumble of her lover's voice against her warm skin confirmed, one hand finding its way over hers and twisting in her locks, wrenching her face away from her solace and kissing her more aggressively than before.

Y/N matched it's hunger and was the first to take the lead. His efforts had been thoroughly noticed and enjoyed. Steve reciprocated her actions, but was too focused on her legs straddled above his. "See that?" His voice was hoarse and his tone smug.

He slipped a finger past her folds, savoring her wetness in the absence of her mouth, and she knew just as she threw her head back the exact scene he'd mentioned. All but his length, and the hand caressing and parting her legs, and her movements riding along. Only barely able to keep from crying out as the feeling took over her senses again.

But she did her damnedest not to keep that visual from him as her legs continue riding, his length sliding across his stomach in tandem. He was warm and slick, the same salty tang from his skin on her tongue a beautiful echo of her own wetness, mixing and joining in unison when she dragged herself back up, rocking her weight backward over his cock, shuddering as her own arousal came full circle and grazed her clit.

She was fast and efficient when her patience came to an end. Slick as ice, and just as impatient. He slid deep inside her when her grip took a firm handle on his rigid form. Even with the slippery mixture of fluids from her being, it took a steady rock against the head of his erection before her swollen and bruised labia gave way enough to slip his thick head in. "Baby, hold still." He'd sat forward, bringing the length of his torso against the malleable muscles of her thighs and ass.

She knew exactly how he was feeling now, his sounds a beautiful revelation of his ecstasy as it was, but it also drove her absolutely wild. Her face dropped back into his collarbone where it was a safe space for her. His hot breath beat in time with their skin against hers, creating a growing haze of dew that she burrowed her cheek to, whimpering as a smile grew from his gleeful grunts of his sweet girl fucking herself on his lap, sinking as deep as possible to fill him to her brim, just before doing it once more.

His hand landed at her side as his head fell backward to the pillows. As she continued to grind upon his throbbing cock.

"Fuck baby, you feel incredible." The pitch of his voice heightened slightly on the final syllable, and her knees wobbled in kind from the sound alone.

As his girth split her to her core she clung on. "I...It's s-so fuckin deep baby. Please...I d-don't think I c-can hold myself up."

Her hips faltered once, a weak moment lost as his fingers threaded in her hair. Instead of clutching him tighter, Y/N moved to touch the headboard and took the support given there instead. Pushing away, she held his eyes while she brought her ass backward and lifted up just enough, guiding his head against her entrance, and teased her hot folds in and out, up, then back in once more, letting a fresh wash of wetness trickle over her thighs and down onto his in an act so dirty and tempting and erotic she saw him falter and quake and dig in deeper for control to keep his place within her. It was one she hoped he never forgot. "Do I drive you crazy?"

"Mmm. You have no idea, darling." Steve laughed breathlessly with a wild look in his eyes. The telltale change had come and taken over his body language completely. She tried to tease him at the best of times, but tonight it had backfired.

The brief loss of contact made her aching womb stretch to full attention. The involuntary gasp emitting her lips pulled them both away. A chisel would not be as sharp as the bite of his nails as he grasped her hips again, seizing control with little restraint to do so.

Though he was rough, Y/N found great pleasure in it, just as her legs bounced at his sides. "Goddamn."

Her nails left trails down his chest and she's left scratching on his navel, as her voice gave up from the whimpers she'd done nothing to stifle. Steve pushed harder against her swollen and tingling opening, sinking to her womb with little room to breathe or think or put any kind of distance from his cock as their hips began a natural dance to keep themselves perfectly together and moving and pushing as one. He rolled and pushed and thrust upward until the last bit of air was knocked free from her lungs with the sudden slam.

A collection of various curses spilled through the room, no telling whose mouth had screamed or shouted until she bottomed out at his lap and buried his head under the press of her breast and fingers in the now dampened length of his hair. All coherent thought had stopped functioning altogether as he began to thrust himself and pound his girl like her heart would have exploded had he kept with his pace a moment later.

Nothing registered apart from his breathy and sporadic moans as he claimed her again and again in their own silent, little ritual, something sacred, like an engagement neither would dare reveal or show the other.

Eventually, she felt her body tense, a telltale sign she was on the edge. He groaned through gritted teeth as their movements quicken, pushing both to the limits of their physical stamina until, without warning,

"Shit!"

The climax shattered any hold she had of her thoughts, nerves exploding with a euphoric haze to render them both senseless. Y/N wrapped a quivering hand around his bicep as she used it for a grip. Her lips find the shell of his ear as Steve bucked his hips wildly beneath her. "Stevie...Steve..." she breathed in a delusional state, seeing lights, and feeling stars, all while keeping as much composure as she can. Though not very effective as the stream of her juices flooded her and her walls, pulsating at the intrusive thickness of his girth as it continues to pound recklessly as she continues her erratic screams and pleas to him.

Finally, she'd shattered. Coming completely undone. Free. To a man with his gaze fixed unblinkingly, a sheer sign of devotion, at her twitching body. The satisfaction was indescribable and everlasting. She collapsed beside him on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Her body curled against him. Her hand rested against his chest, his skin coated with a sheen of sweat, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing becoming steadier.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Y/N whispered before breaking into a fit of breathless giggles. Steve looks down on her fondly, loving her child-like demeanor and carefreeness after an intense session like that, before following in and matching her happy tone as they share a lazy, passion-fueled kiss in an equally lazy fashion. His own happy giggle tumbled over a soft smile. Y/N eventually rolled her head away with a faint huff.

His nose brushed the tender spot behind her ear, which caused her entire body to quiver from the shock and heat radiating on her neck. When he pressed another warm, open-mouthed kiss there, her breath hitched in her chest.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered. The warmth of his breath blew into the damp skin beneath his lips, sending another wave of goosebumps through her. Her skin was so sensitive. So raw. But oh so amazing. He spoke again, barely audible, as if he was having a conversation with himself. "I love you. I love you."

Y/N turned her head and peered at him through heavy lids. "I love you too," she cooed back, her voice hoarse.

Her head rested in the crook of his neck, and the two laid together, cuddled and content, the sound of their breaths and their heartbeats melding together. Y/N fell asleep before the last remnants of her high had faded, and Steve was still awake.

All night he lay, listening to the sound of her breathing until finally, he got the rest and relief he deserved in his sleep.

The next afternoon, the cold air nipped at their skin. The two of them sat in the park, watching the changing leaves fall. Steve's arm was draped over her shoulder as she sipped the warm cup of cider they had gotten from a vendor a few moments ago. A few minutes later, Steve broke the silence.

"I need to tell you something," he whispered, glancing off at the park's pond.

Y/N shifted beside him, concern written over her face, and placed the cup on the space beside her. "Is everything alright, Stevie?"

"These past few months have been hell without you, and I can't help but think of what the future brings. You make me feel alive. When I'm with you, I'm content. At home. And that's with or without you. I think I'd always want this forever," Steve paused, his tongue darting out to nervously lick his bottom lip, sending a familiar sensation crawling up her spine. He shifted, pulling a small black box out of his pocket. His breath caught, his eyes darting up to hers. "I know it's too dangerous right now, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Y/N stared at him, her eyes widened with shock as tears started welling up in the corner of her eyes. Her hands covered her mouth. "Oh my god." Her heart thundered in her ears as he pulled the ring from the box, the silver band shimmering in the light, the white diamonds reflecting a bright glow. "Yes, Steve, yes! Yes, I'll marry you!" she cried out, throwing her arms around him.

The couple shared a deep, loving kiss, full of love and adoration for one another. "I love you, sweetheart," Steve murmured into her ear. "I'm never going to stop loving you. You're my forever. My home."

She pulled away, a wide smile stretching across her face. "I love you too, Steve. You have my heart, forever."

The two fell back into each other's arms, sharing a soft kiss as the leaves fell around them, envisioning their future together.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x yn #nomad steve rogers #nomad steve rogers x you #nomad steve rogers x female reader #nomad steve rogers x yn #nomad steve rogers fanfic #nomad steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #smut and fluff #steve rogers oneshot.#mywritings.

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holylulusworld · 2 years

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Before you masterlist

Summary: King Steven Grant Rogers once was a good king and a gentle alpha. Now he’s a cruel shadow of his former self. Can he find the light again?

Pairing: King(Alpha)!Steve Rogers x Maid(Omega)!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, cruel Steve, scared reader, soft reader, caring reader, grumpy Steve, a/b/o, true mates, a/b/o dynamics, more to be added

Updates every Monday

Before you (1) - Prologue

Before you (2)

Before you (3)

Before you (4)

Before you (5)

Before you (6)

Before you (7)

Before you (8)

Before you (9)

Before you (10)

Before you (11)

Before you (12)

Before you (13)

Before you (14)

Before you (15)

Before you (16)

Before you (17)

Before you (18)

Before you - Normal ending

Before you - Bucky’s ending

Before you - Alternative ending (2)

Find more stories with Steve here: Steve Rogers /Chris Evans/other roles Masterlist

#Before you masterlist #steve rogers #nomad steve rogers #king!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x maid!reader #a/b/o #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega reader

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rainydayfix · 1 year

Text

Take One

pairing: Nomad! Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Nomad!Steve Rogers fulfills his sex worker partner’s wishes until he can’t take it anymore.

warnings: 18+ content (MINORS DNI!!!), smut, lots of fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex

word count: 3.2k

Notes: Please do not copy, steal, etc. My ask box is currently open if you want to send fic ideas / imagines / etc.

Snippet: It was a miracle any thoughts ran through your mind but you couldn’t help but wonder how his hands – that had been through so much war, endured so many scars and callouses from fighting - could bring out something so heavenly from you. Maybe it was the fact that his hands hand been used to defend and protect so unabashedly that made them capable of showing an equal amount of devotion.

“I thought about what you asked for,” you said, resting your head on Steve’s chest as you settled in for the night. “And, I want you to finger me.”

“I always finger you,” he joked, lightly tickling you at your sides.

“No, I want you to only finger me,” you repeated. “Over and over again.”

You and Steve talked about fantasies you wanted to share. You both moaned between the sheets when you were in a race to hit that space where nothing else existed but each other. But, when he first asked if he could help you out on camera, because that was one of his fantasies, it was still a bit of a shock – leaving you a couple of days to digest, to ponder, to re-ponder, to really think about what you could ask him to do.

As your first video together, you finally settled one idea: him fingering you relentlessly. It was genuinely a fantasy of yours. You knew your body and what you liked, and always found it exciting to see your partner discover it too. And it was a blessing that Steve didn’t rest on his stamina from the serum to do all the work.

“Why only fingering?” he questioned softly. “Why not more?”

“You know why?” you answered, trying to tiptoe around one of the reasons you only wanted fingering. Truth be told it was that you weren’t ready to do a full length video with him yet. Your stream had a good fifteen videos on it so far. Thousands of followers who loved seeing your curves, seeing you naked, seeing you come. But your sex work always came with a caveat making partners turned on before becoming jealous and distrusting, or being distrusting from the start and making you feel cheap.

That was just men who were regular Joe assholes. This was Steve Rogers. Retired Captain America. Now Nomad. He stayed in the shadows. Popping up online, no matter how many creative angles you could try, someone would figure it out. Who you were. Who he was with. Where you were. Then come the headlines. The jokes. The invasion of privacy. You hoped deep down making a video out in the open with Steve wouldn’t change things, but you knew it would. “Not even you can hide underneath all this,” you finished, gingerly teasing his full beard.

A small groan seemed to be his only response. You could feel his pensiveness clench his muscles.

“I just - “ you started, before turning in his arms to face him. “I want us to be us for as long as we possibly can. And, blasting America’s ass on the internet will have the vultures coming around in a heartbeat.”

That made him break out into a small smile at least. You couldn’t help but lay next to him in silence as your fingers caressed his face – the deepened wrinkles on his forehead, the laugh lines, the freckles. Blinking up at the ceiling, deep in thought, he turned his face towards yours and gently took your hand into his. He brought it to his lips, taking his time to plant soft kisses along your fingers.

“When do we start?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

You know Steve asked if he could help. But you couldn’t find it to answer him with your actual voice. He ended up sitting on the bench at the end of the bed - with that ever-cool patience and calm he possessed. Positioning everything just right seemed to be the only thing to settle your nerves. It wasn’t like you were new to this. You set up the equipment a couple of dozen times before – sometimes for videos to post, sometimes with videos that didn’t make the cut. You set your phone set high on the tripod over the bed in the exact angle that would show your breasts down to your feet, if you poised your legs up right. You made sure the lighting was right – with soft lamps centered on your vanity and at your bedside.

As you slowly ran out of things to do, you started to realize you only started the channel with one person in mind – yourself. But now there was someone else you wanted your videos to mean something for – Steve.

“I’m gonna put the final touches together,” you said softly, giving the tiniest curtsy when his hand reached out for yours. He pulled you between this legs. How could a 240 lb superhero seem so small in your arms yet take up your entire world?

“This won’t change anything, this is just for us,” he reminded, running his hands over your hips and reaching his head up to nestle his lips between sternum. Your hands ran through his thick hair, gently bringing his face up. “I know,” you smiled down at him, taking his hands in yours before letting him go. “I’ll only be a minute.”

One minute turned into more than a couple of minutes as you changed your outfit. Steve honestly doesn’t need much to get going, but your “branding” wasn’t exactly in mind when you picked out the lingerie. From a technical point of view, you wanted something that showed enough skin from your breasts to your hips as the camera’s angle pointed downwards away from your face. For yourself, you wanted something that was simple but special – nothing said that better than see-through black and lace. Your hands ran over the delicate floral pattern as it shaped your taut waist, and the stockings that were lightly attached to the garter and underwear. After putting on the finishing touches of light make-up, you looked yourself over once more in the mirror before opening the bathroom door.

All of the equipment stayed exactly the same, but you weren’t the only one that had changed. A small array of candles were lit alongside the drawers across the room. The softest low-fi music played from the stereo. And, Steve stood next to the bed having changed into a long black shirt and pants, matching exactly what you wore. His eyes bore into you with an intensity that paled into comparison to the soft romantic set-up around you.

“Are you sure you just want my hands?” he asked, his voice deep and almost raw. He inhaled sharp but slowly, looking you over as his hands seemed to unconsciously rub together.

“For right now, yes,” you said – it was taking everything in you to not just shove the shoot aside and just let you fuck for the hell of it. There was so much about his body that you loved, and somehow restricting yourself to only his hands made you want him even more. The part of you that pushed you to save it for the video, caused you to turn away from him slowly before handing him the remote control and slowly crawling up the bed, trying to give him as much of a show as possible.

Once you settled onto your back, you reminded yourself to breathe as you could see Steve in your peripheral check the angle of your placement on the bed with the lens and press record. You forced your eyes to stay peeled on the ceiling, knowing that if you looked at him too soon you might call the whole thing off. It seemed like forever before his weight sunk on the bed next to you, his presence becoming a safe haven and a master in control.

When he was fully settled next to you, resting his weight on his arm, he whispered, “it’s just us.” His lips planted softly against yours, you immediately felt it start to leave you breathless and wanting more. Carefully, he left a trail of wetness as his tongue and lips ran down your neck, as his hand traveled over the rim of fabric covering your breasts and towards your stomach. Your breathing steadily grew heavily, when you felt his nails dig into your hips before gliding across your lower stomach and under your underwear.

You were careful to not shuffle too much, not wanting the position of your body to skew out of view. You also didn’t want to seem too over-eager as you peeled the underwear lower. A small smirk lifted from Steve’s mouth as he discovered you were already wet. One of his fingers dipped lowly, lightly skimming your outer lips before delving further. He didn’t seem to be in a rush and it was killing you. You couldn’t help but let out a deep breath as he added another finger, just playing with the power his touch had on you. He took you licking your lips as an invitation as he brought his fingers to your mouth, letting your head bob against them for a few seconds before he placed them back where they belonged.

He started with his digits pushing between your lips to your core, not wasting any more time, causing you to sigh heavily. It was exactly what you wanted. His motions mostly focused on dipping in and out of you, experimenting with the pace of rough and slow. When his fingers hit your inner lips in the perfect way, he alternated to hitting your core. Just like his cock that fit inside you perfectly, Steve knew the right amount of thickness and how to curve his fingers to create the same tight fit. You thought you were close to hitting your first orgasm, when he switched up the position, pushing his middle and ring finger deep inside you, and letting his other fingers pad against your inner walls. Your moan filled the room as your hand dipped low to hold yourself open a little more for his palm to slightly tap against you.

“Fuck, just like that, almost there” you gasped, as you felt your wetness coat not only his hand but slip down between your thighs underneath you. The concentration on Steve’s face, the way his eyes invited you to come all over his hand, pushed you over the edge as your moan was caught in his lips on yours, your tongues thrashing against each other. The first wave washed over you, as he finally let you up for air, and his fingers slowly returned to the caressing he had started with just minutes ago.

You didn’t expect the initial orgasm to take so much out of you, your eyes falling shut a little too quickly for your taste as well as Steve’s. You felt his hand gradually leaving you feeling empty, and the weight of him next to you lightening a bit. When he returned a second later, you felt something soft and plastic roll across your collarbone, and over the rim of your brassiere. Your eyes shot open, when you felt the odd object pulse against one of your nipples and over to the other. You caught the hot pink device looking small in Steve’s massive hand – your vibrator. The one you used in the video that Steve said was his favorite. That bastard.

His heavy breath brushed against your ear. “You can’t quit on me now. I’m just getting started, honey,” he instructed, in a gruff tone you’d never heard before he nipped your lobe between his teeth. He turned the device on and off again as he made sure to let it sail smoothly over breasts and across your stomach, just close enough for you to feel it pulsate through the lingerie. Once the vibrator made it towards your heat, you opened your legs further for him, letting him know how ready you were for him to give it to you.

This time he wasn’t waiting to take it slow and steady like he did before. This time he turned on the vibrator to the first setting for a few brief seconds, and then the second – the one that usually made you come within minutes. The only problem was that he held it right between your clit and lips – not letting you do anything to give him permission to go further or deeper. He was within the reason of pressing the vibrator right where you need it and perfect distance of making you yearn for his touch.

“Oh god, baby, please,” you cried out, and was silenced immediately, as he plunged the vibrator into you. Steve didn’t mess around with the pressure of the touch; he just let it pulse against your folds. It felt like an endless divine tease. Seconds gave way to minutes. Minutes felt like it gave way to eternity. You felt like you were heaven without actually crossing over the through the gates. You looked over at Steve with hooded eyes, wondering how much this man could possibly know exactly what you wanted without saying words, as the coil within you began to tighten and tauntingly refuse to unravel.

Gradually, the arm that was resting near your head slipped under your neck, lifting your face upwards. Knowing he wanted you to watch what he was doing, you helped by slightly lifting yourself up onto your elbows, prompting your eyes to roll back into your head before refocusing on the full view of his hand thrusting between your legs– the black of his shirt wrapped towards his elbow, and your lingerie, contrasted with the hot pink glimpses of the vibrator. It was a miracle any thoughts ran through your mind but you couldn’t help but wonder how his hands – that had been through so much war, endured so many scars and callouses from fighting, could bring out something so heavenly from you. Maybe it was the fact that his hands hand been used to defend and protect so unabashedly that made them capable of showing an equal amount of devotion.

Steve’s body tilted towards you closer, you could feel his cock through his pants on your side. “I wish it was your cock inside me so bad,” you whined, as he suddenly dropped the vibrator and replaced it with his hand, practically fisting you. Your focus stayed on the continuous pounding of his hand that matched the throbbing of the vibrator and thensome for as long as you could. You never wanted it to stop, and Steve almost made you feel like it was never going to. Your one hand gripped the sheet underneath, while the other wrestled to reach for Steve’s arm as your head bowed backwards, as your body finally let go, and you released a high pitched squeal. Steve slowly lowered your head back against the bed, kissing away some of the tears that had freed themselves from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks, as everything in you crossed the finishing line. You could of sworn you heard him mumble ‘good girl’ before asking if you were all right, making you nod in response as your hands reached up to run through his hair and wrap around his arms.

You laid there for several moments, letting him hold you, caress you, plant kisses everywhere. You didn’t know if this was the end of your recording. You weren’t sure if you had another round in you. You weren’t sure if two times would be enough to follow with what you had on your stream already. You just wanted to rest with Steve, as much as it seemed like he just wanted to rest alongside you. He brought his hand up long enough for you to see him run it along his lips, coating his palm in his spit before dipping it inside you. You guessed he wasn’t done with you just yet as his hand splayed itself against your core– his middle finger found its home deep inside you while the rest of his palm rested on your inner and outer lips.

When his mouth started to trail down towards your collarbone, and towards your breasts, you helped him nuzzle your corset as low as it could, just letting your nipples peak out from the top, enough for him to paying attention to one, and then the other. His mouth grappled your breasts, back and forth, before he settled on one while his hands picked up the pace of strokes. It had been a long time before you felt an orgasm building from more focused attention on your delicate folds. But the ease with his hand swiping at you and the way his mouth enfolded around one of your nipples pushed your body to accept that he was building that eden in you again.

The slight slits in Steve’s palm seemed to ever so gently and rapidly rap against your opening, testing the limit if you could come against his motions. Gradually, your moans – the only sound in the room – was mixed with his own. One deep groan, one you’d never heard before surprised you, of ‘fuck it’ – signaled a swift change that took your breath away. Steve’s mouth left your breasts, his hand left your core, as he moved over you. Everything happened so fast – you helping Steve fling his shirt over your head and his pants down around his ass, a loud thud mixing with the pillow above your head getting roughly tossed to the side of the bed, and Steve filling you up with his cock. His arms snaked above you, as his weight practically pinned you to the bed. You reached down towards your ass and moved the flesh away to hold your thighs open for him more. In a matter of milliseconds, he was animalistically fucking away all of the tension that had been building up between the two of you. The mix of of his hands padding away sensitively at your core, and then every inch of you getting railed, was almost too much to bare. You actually surprised Steve lasted as long as he did before taking matters literally into his own hands. Both of your moans echoed in the room as his thrusts grew messier and faster as you hit another high, and he hit his first, feeling him empty his essence inside you. Once the pace of his thrust sfinally began to smooth over and stop altogether, you laid underneath him, your arms wrapped underneath his above your head.

“That was….” Steve began to say before, his words tapered off. All you could do was nod. His hand started to nuzzle the side of your neck, the coarseness of his beard brushing against your face as your lolled your head to the side.

“….only the beginning,” you finished his sentence before his head whipped up and in the direction yours was facing. Your phone had been knocked to the ground along with the tripod, lying next to the pillow Steve had tossed around aside. The realization drew a laugh from both of you. You were sure there was enough material you and Steve would be happy to post if you had to cut out the grand finale. There was no need for words or apologies, not being entirely sure if the phone had been damaged from the fall...the only thing you could do was reconsider what you could plan for take two.

#nomad!steve rogers #nomad!steve x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #nomad steve rogers #marvel smut

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heytheredelulu · 2 months

Text

Imagine nomad Steve is reader’s possessive boyfriend and she just wants to rile him up by making him think she’s been cheating on him with Bucky.

Also Bucky smokes in this because I said so.

Like Sin

Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Content Warning: Language and a lil blood

You fumbled with the knob at the front door of your apartment, the dim light in the breezeway coupled with the whiskey you’d drank only making it harder for you to slot the little silver key into the lock. Just as you had finally succeeded, the lock clicked before you could turn your key and you drew your hands back, looking up as your very angry boyfriend yanked the door open.

Steve glared down at you with his arms folded across his broad chest. “You’re late.” He states sternly, stepping aside to allow you entry. “Where the hell were you? You haven’t answered a single one of my texts all night.” He asks, leaning against the wall in the foyer as you tossed your keys on the table.

“I told you I was going to happy hour with some of the others.” You say with a hint of annoyance, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, happy hour.” He repeats with equal annoyance. “It’s nearly 1 in the morning.” He scolds. You lose the fight and finally roll your eyes as you perch on the arm of the couch to take your shoes off. “Okay, happy ‘hours’, then.” You mumble, tossing one shoe towards the shoe rack.

“And you didn’t think to text me back? You’ve been gone for hours and haven’t even bothered to check in.” He points out, uncrossing his arms as his lips curve downward into a frown.

You sigh and pull off your other shoe, tossing it to land near the other as you look up at him. “Steve, I was with our friends. If I’m out socializing I’m not going to just sit and stare at my phone, it’s rude. It’s not my fault that you didn’t want to come out with us.” You counter, standing up.

“It’s rude?” He asks, incredulously. “And it’s not rude to ignore your boyfriend all night and keep him up late, worried sick?”

“You’re being dramatic.” You mumble, unzipping your coat and walking over towards the coat rack, where he was still leaned up against the wall.

He sucks his teeth at your comment and nods, eyeing you up and down. “I’m not being dramatic.”

You scoff, shrugging off your coat and hanging it up. “Yes, you are. If you were so worried about me going out without you, you should’ve come along.”

He opens his mouth to respond but his eyes flick over to your coat pocket and he steps away from the wall, reaching into it and fishing out a pack of cigarettes. He turns the pack over in his hand as his eyes narrow in recognition.

This is Bucky’s brand of cigarettes.

“Who were you with again?” He asks, not looking up from the smokes in his hand.

You’re in the kitchen at this point, getting a glass from the cabinet and is unaware of the bomb in his hand that was ticking towards an inevitable explosion. “Tony, Nat, Bruce. A few others from the team.” You call out, filling your glass with water from the sink.

Steve steps into the kitchen and crushes the pack of cigarettes in his fist before tossing it onto the table. “And Bucky?” He asks, though it wasn’t much of a question.

You glance over at him mid drink and swallow, setting the glass down slowly. “He’s part of the group, yeah?” You question, brow furrowing as you look to the crushed pack of smokes now discarded on the table.

“Why do you have his shit in your pockets?” He asks, his expression hardening.

“I don’t know, Steve. I probably just picked them up with my things when I was leaving. You know sometimes I smoke when I’m drinking.”

He places both hands on the kitchen table, the muscles in his arms flexing as he leans forward and lowers his voice. “You were alone with him, weren’t you?”

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m sure at some point, yeah. I was alone with Nat at some point too.” You argue.

He slams his fist down on the table, the legs shaking in response to the assault.

“You were alone with him!” He shouts.

“What the hell is your problem?” You yell in return, throwing up your hands in frustration.

“My problem is that you were alone with Bucky.” He growls.

You tilt your head curiously. “And the problem with that is what? Your own insecurity? Your jealousy is showing Steve, and it’s not attractive.”

He bows his head and sucks in a deep breath before lifting his gaze to meet yours in a menacing stare.

“I am not insecure. I see the way he looks at you.” He whispers harshly. “And I’ve seen the way you are around him.”

He leans back and steps around the table, slowly moving into your space as he backs you against the wall.

“Who knows what the two of you do when I’m not around.” He says, "You could be flirting, you could be touching him, hell-" His voice drops to an almost inaudible whisper "you could be fucking him." His eyes flash dangerously as he leans his face closer to yours.

"Excuse me?" You ask, your face contorting in anger. "What the hell did you just accuse me of?"

He grits his teeth, and slams his palm against the wall behind your head. "Don't you try to play innocent with me. I know you two get a little too friendly with one another and I'm sick of it!" He yells.

"I'm not playing innocent, I'm asking you to look me in the face and repeat what you just fucking said, Steve!" You shout, your eyebrows knitting in anger.

He glares at you for a long moment before speaking in a low voice laced with quiet rage.

"I think you're fucking Bucky." He says, taking a threatening step towards you.

"Oh, do you?" You ask, your voice dripping with mockery.

"Yes, I do." He says through clenched teeth.

You shake your head and laugh in disbelief. "Wow,” you breathe out. “So is that what you think I was doing tonight? You think I was out fucking Bucky?"

His glare never falters. A muscle in his jaw twitches as his hands curl into fists. "That’s exactly what I think." He whispers harshly.

You lick your lips and cross your arms as the corners of your mouth twitch up into a cruel smirk. "Maybe I was. Why don't you kiss me baby? Tell me if you can taste his cock on my tongue." You dare, looking up at him in defiance.

His eyes widen as you issues him the challenge. At first he doesn't react, but then without warning he closes the gap between you both, pressing himself against you and crashing his lips into yours. He takes your mouth in a rough, punishing kiss, his lips moving against yours fueled with all his pent-up rage and jealousy.

You kiss him back angrily, violently as you parts your lips, deepening the kiss and meeting his tongue with your own in a dance of dominance. You break the kiss abruptly, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth as your pull away, nipping hard enough to draw blood as you lean back and look up at him with your chest heaving.

He releases you with a gasp and glances down at you in confusion as he tastes blood. It takes him a moment to speak. “Did you just bite me?” He asks, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he stares at you with a mix of shock and arousal.

You reach up and cup his jaw roughly with your hand, tracing your thumb along the curve of his bottom lip, smearing the blood across it. "Is that what you're worried about?" You ask in a low voice "You aren't going to tell me how your best friend tastes?"

His breath catches as a shiver crawls its way up his spine and he meets your gaze narrowing his eyes.

"What did you just say?" He whispers, leaning forward and pressing his bloodied lip against your thumb.

You let your thumb slip between his lips pressing it down on his tongue as you hold his gaze, then you withdraw it and pinch his cheeks, saliva wet against his skin "I asked you a fucking question." You repeat dangerously "How does Bucky taste?"

His eyes darken as he looks down at you. He can’t help but notice the subtle way your voice changes when you say his best friend's name; Just like how he can’t help but notice how it makes his heart race and a heat spread in the pit of his stomach when you do it.

He shakes his head to clear the thought.

"I'm not justifying that with an answer." He says, swallowing the lump forming in his throat.

You lean in towards his ear, your breath hot as it fans across his skin. "I will." You whisper, sucking a finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it before reaching to run the wet digit down his neck "Like sin."

#captain america x reader #marvel smut #captain america smut #steve rogers x reader #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers one shot #captain america one shot

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chxrryhansen · 2 months

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

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sebbys-mama · 1 year

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My kink is this Bucky Barnes with this Steve Rogers.

Forever and always.

#stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve and bucky #captain america #the winter soldier #nomad steve rogers #twink bucky barnes #my kink

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blackleatherjacketz · 1 year

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Debrief

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: You confront Steve after your encounter in Stars Align to see if you two can get past it, or if any of it was real.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mutual Pining, Catholic Guilt, Reassurance, Mentions of Sex Pollen, Kissing, Face-Holding, Vaginal Sex, Hair-Pulling, Biting, Steve Being A Power Bottom

Word Count: 2.2k+

Tags: @bullet-prooflove @letsby @skittle479

Read more MARVEL Stories!

“Rogers, wait!” You call out to him as he makes a hasty retreat down the hall away from you, his quick steps barely slowing to a walk as you try to catch up. “Steve!” You plead with him, picking up your pace to a slight jog before grabbing hold of his arm as you finally get close enough to him. “How the hell are we supposed to act like a team if you won’t even look at me?”

“I can look at you.” He snaps, nostrils flaring as he lets you turn him around just to prove his point. His eyes glance at your face before darting away to your feet, waist and shoulders, eventually landing on your hand that still loosely grips his arm. He sighs and shakes his head slowly, almost as if to rid himself of the knee-jerk reaction he couldn’t help but display. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“I know.” The close proximity of your training session with him had triggered you both, bringing up those primal instincts and complex feelings all over again. You could tell it had done the same for him, the physical change in his body more than evident before he walked away in hopes of hiding it from you. “But every time you do, you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a mistake,” you verbalize the thought that’s been haunting your mind for days now, his recent distance from you making you wish the best night of your life had never happened at all.

You watch his face fall as the words leave your lips, the air between you now infected with regret as he takes in a slow deep breath. “You’re not a mistake,” he pauses, forcing himself to face you. “But what happened was. And as much as I want to, as much as I’ve thought about it, I can’t go back and do it differently. I could’ve gotten you p…” He brushes his palm over his mouth before turning away from you again, his broad shoulders carrying the weight of his actions as he thinks through what to say next.

“It could have happened to any one of them.” You explain, walking around his sturdy frame in order to keep him engaged. You’re not going to leave him alone until the two of you finally resolve this.

“But it happened to us,” His eyes are wet with remorse as they stay with you, his voice growing weaker with every word he speaks. “To you and me. And when Bruce showed me those bruises on your skin, I…” his lip quivers as he trails off, dropping his gaze down to the floor to avoid your eyes once more. “I hurt you, and I see that everytime I look at you now.”

“But you didn’t.” You reassure him with a step forward, taking his hand and gently placing it over one of the bruises he’d left on your neck. “You didn’t hurt me, Steve, not even a little.” You keep your hand on his wrist and hold it there, your fingers noting the quickening of his pulse as he actively fights the urge to pull away. “We were both entranced, remember?”

“I remember.” His weary eyes glisten as they survey the yellowing outline along your jaw caused by his own hungry mouth. He carefully traces over the faded shape with his thumb, taking his time to stroke the delicate skin on your neck. He follows the rough design down to the next consecutive marking at the base of your clavicle, gracefully resting his thumb in the notch of your sternum.

“Is that all you see?” You hold your breath as you dangle the bait out in front of him, watching the wheels turn in his head before that pensive look no longer worries his features. You hold out hope that he remembers your sordid affair with more fondness than regret, that the memories of your bodies entangled with one another have bled as blissfully into his dreams as they had your own.

“It wasn’t all bad, was it?” You ask with warranted trepidation.

“Of course it wasn’t.” He finally confesses, as if those words uttered in that exact combination would send him straight to the very pits of hell. The reality of him still standing there before you, unscathed, immediately lightens the load he carries on his conscience as he swallows hard. “It wasn’t bad at all,” he admits, pressing his thumb against your pulse just deep enough to feel your heart rate increase along with his. “I’m just afraid you weren’t… was any of it real? Would you have even… if we hadn’t…?”

“Of course I would have,” you whisper, taking your turn to touch his face as his beard gently brushes against your palm. “And it was real to me.”

Steve had always been professional above all else and extremely old fashioned, his strict moral compass bleeding into nearly every other aspect of his life as the two of you spent more time working together. He never flirted with you or made dirty jokes, never touched you in a way that made you think he might want more than just a trusted colleague. He never talked about his dating life with you or anyone else on your team, so you assumed that he was either hiding something, or just wasn’t interested in any of that at all.

So how could you tell him that you’d been waiting for an excuse to get this close to him for months now, even before all of this? How could you tell him that your heart skipped a beat every time he looked at you, that you held your breath every time he patted you on the back or shook your hand? How could you tell him that your stomach tied itself into knots every time he smiled in your direction or got close enough for his scent to linger around you? How could you tell him that you found yourself staying late doing extra work just to feel that rush of dopamine you always got from his seal of approval?

“You’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” His tone changes from concerned to curious, his brows furrowing into his forehead as he awaits your answer. “With me?”

“Yeah.” You caress his cheek with your thumb as he leans in closer, the smell of his sweat swimming through your senses just long enough to draw out another confession. “That's all I can think about.”

“Me too.” That shy shade of pink fades from his lips, blending into a deeper, more flush scarlet as they stay parted merely centimeters from yours.

Unable to think of any other course of action, you take the leap and kiss him, relishing in the sensation of his lips on yours for the first time in days, even though in this moment it feels like an eternity has passed. The kiss is chaste at first, his lips pressing into yours with more fervor than you anticipated before they part just enough to taste your own. His fingers press into your skin, finding their way up the back of your neck and into your hairline as he pulls you in closer to him, the soft hair of his beard scratching at your chin.

You let him guide you, slowly walking you backwards against the nearest wall as his tongue finally brushes against yours as nearly all of your senses are overrun by him. You can almost taste his suppressed desire as he kisses you more deeply, his inherent need for you dissipating into the air in the form of quiet, whispered moans as his other hand grasps at your hips and waist. All you want is for this barrage of feelings to continue, to surround you so completely that all you can see, hear, touch, smell and taste is Steve, but others are watching. You’ve already been passed by a few other workers earlier in your conversation, and the last thing you need is another recording of the two of you in a public place.

You pull back from his kiss, immediately regretting your choice as he squints at you in confusion. “Not here.”

————————-

Steve’s hands graze over your body as if you’re entirely made of glass, careful not to repeat the rough and greedy nature of your last encounter as he holds you close. They scale the peaks and valleys of your back and shoulder blades as his lips pepper kisses into the bruises he left behind almost as if to heal them, venturing a trail to your chest. Those hands of his curve down over your cheeks, squeezing them gently before sliding up under your thighs as you take your time straddling his naked figure.

You run your fingers through his grown out locks as he briefly pauses his course of kisses between your breasts to look up at you, finally without fear or shame. His pupils expand as he takes you in, a deeply suppressed smile tugging at the corner of his lips before you lean down to kiss them. You can barely believe that his mouth is on yours of his own volition, free of any chemical forcing his hands to navigate over every inch of your body as it carefully hovers over his.

Eyelids flutter as you rock your hips back and forth, spreading the moisture between your folds over his tip before sinking down onto him in one fluid motion. His breath warms your face as you envelop him, a tame swear ringing in your ears before he kisses you again to stifle his next involuntary expletive. His elation vibrates into your bones as you both moan into each other, his girth seeming both foreign and familiar as it delves deeper inside of you at a much more tolerable pace. His hands move their way up to your hips, gently pulling you down onto him until your skin is fully flush with his, thigh for thigh.

“You feel so good,” he whispers as he holds you there, pushing up into you just enough to draw out a little whimper as he grows harder within your walls.

“You too,” you nod into him, brushing your nose against his for a lazy kiss.

That initial blur, that enchanting ethereal state takes over again, only this time it’s different. This time that fire deep inside of you isn’t burning quite as hot, a slow and steady flame fanned only by your movements up and down as you continually take him in. That intoxicating pleasure of him stretching your walls with illicit perfection sparks a sort of muscle memory as they clench down around him, pulsating with overdue need. Flashes of your time together enter your mind as you collide with him, that utter desperation driving you forward as the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes against the walls of your empty bedroom.

Once his body is in tune with your rhythm, he matches your pace, increasing his depth and rate as your kisses turn into sloppier, messier love bites. Your hands travel over each other’s skin, memorizing every scar and blemish before tugging on each other’s hair as he finds that perfect spot, forcing you to cry out in just the right pitch to make him smile against your lips. You can feel his voice rattle in his chest as he groans words of praise into you, hitting that bundle of nerves at such a delicious angle that you begin to see stars behind your eyelids every time he slides back into you.

“You gonna come for me?” He purrs, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you farther down onto him with an upward thrust into your cervix. “Huh?”

“Uh-huh!” You whisper, feeling those stars shoot up into your belly as he pulls on your hair. Those rays of light burn so bright that they explode into thousands of tiny little bursts, tingling their way through your nervous system as they travel through your arms and legs, fizzling out into your fingers and toes.

Those few days you spent apart from him seem to disappear from your memory entirely. All you can remember now is him and the way he’s making you feel, sending you over the edge as your body shakes and spasms in time with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, forging your broken bond back together with a mixture of sweat, saliva and semen as you pull him in as close to you as possible. That primal desire you felt while under the influence, that urge to have him merge with you on every level hasn’t seemed to change, making you wonder what that chemical actually did to the two of you that night.

You moan as he latches onto your shoulder with his inevitable release, sucking another bruise next to the faded few that caused him so much concern before. His tongue massages your skin as his hands hold you tight, not letting you go as he twitches inside of you, sending another burst of pleasure up into your core as the both of you begin to shake in perfect unison. You rest your forehead against his, exhaling slowly as you kiss him deeply for what you hope won’t be the last time.

“See?” You whisper breathlessly, smiling against his cheek. “I told you you didn’t hurt me.”

#Steve Rogers #Chris Evans #Steve Rogers Smut #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers Imagine #Steve Rogers x You #Captain America #Marvel #Nomad Steve Rogers #chris evans x reader

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rogersideup · 2 months

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｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 3

Expendable

Series Masterlist

Previous part: wine and dine next part: pink peonies

Word Count 5,333

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts.

Standing in front of a human shaped dummy in the private training room, Steve was showing you all the best ways to direct an attack to assure your opponent goes down, and stays down.

After your mission and injury, Steve was out for a few days on a business trip the same day that you were medically cleared to get back to work. So, it had been a while since the last time you trained together.

You both decided it was a good idea to just take it easy and review what you already know as a means of studying for your final evaluation coming up.

Every agent had to take a final evaluation upon completing every single training course shield had to offer. It was a big deal, and though nobody had any doubts that you were ready for it, it could never hurt to review and improve.

"Knock knock, bitches." Bucky announced, causing both of you to stop.

"Hey, Bucky boy" You greeted him.

"What's going on, Buck?" Steve questioned.

"I dunno, I'm bored." He shrugged. "Can I just sit and watch?"

"Don't you have work to do?" You asked with a giggle.

"I finished!" He defended himself. "You two get to spend so much time without me, it's only fair I get to insert myself here whenever I want to."

"You act like this is personal and not us doing our jobs" Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's a technicality I'm choosing to ignore." Bucky sat on the ground with his back against the wall.

Steve looked at you to make sure it was okay that he sat and watched, but he caught something he wished he hadn't. Just for a split second, you narrowed your eyes at Bucky, and he gave you a very subtle nod back.

He realized that it very well could've been nothing, but it definitely seemed like it was something.

Though Steve didn't bring it up at all, he made mental note of it. He was confident in his deep knowledge of both of his friend's behavior, and he was choosing to trust his gut on that observation.

The rest of your time together, Bucky sat and watched quietly, only occasionally responding to conversations that would break out that weren't work related. Towards the end, Steve wanted to confirm some scheduling, so he cut the physical work a few minutes early.

He sat on the bench with you as you pulled a sweatshirt over your head, and your everyday sneakers onto your feet.

"Okay, so, your final evaluation is one week from today." Steve noted. "So this week will be really simple, we can keep doing this, just reviewing what we've already been over. But our training together is still supposed to run until the end of the month so we have three extra weeks together."

"What am I supposed to do when this ends?! I'll be so bored without you!" You exclaimed.

Steve chuckled. "You should be happy that you survived my course!"

"I mean I am, but then what?"

"Maybe another Avenger will take you under their wing." Steve shrugged.

"I can only think of one Avenger with wings" you noted.

"What do you want to cover in the three weeks together after your evaluation?" He asked.

Your lips formed into a pout. "I know what it should be, but I don't wanna do it"

"Restraints?" Steve questioned sympathetically.

"Restraints... I guess." You grumbled.

Every fighter had a weak spot. Just one thing that made their stomachs turn and their hearts race, something that really scared them regardless of mental work or preparation. Some people couldn't handle heights, didn't do very well when they saw blood, and really freaked out over handling certain weapons.

You just happened to be terrified of being restrained, which unfortunately was a very plausible situation to find yourself in as an agent. There was no reason why you were terrified of it, nothing happened in your life to make you fear it as much as you did. But the thought of having your hands or legs tied made you feel claustrophobic in a way you couldn't even describe using words.

"It'll be scary at first, but we'll work on it" Steve reassured. "Wouldn't you rather learn how to get out of any sort of restraint with someone you trust then find yourself in a situation where you're tied up at the hands of an enemy with no way out?"

"Logically yes, but in reality I would like neither of those things to happen." You responded with a twinge of sarcasm.

Steve laughed, "okay well, I wouldn't like that to happen to you either! But once you learn how to escape from a bunch of different scenarios, you won't be scared of it anymore. Knowledge is power!"

"I know you didn't just knowledge is power me, you loser!" You joked with a snort.

"Oh I certainly did, and I'll do it again." He stated with a smile. "Confidently!"

"Okay, I guess I trust you enough to teach me." You committed to the endeavor.

"Good job, pushing yourself is how you grow better as a fighter." Steve praised your bravery. "We'll start with the easiest and work our way up to the hardest, then you'll be such a pro at it that nothing could ever hold you back."

"Yeah, yeah." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"Then after our training together is officially over, I'm going to block off my schedule these same two hours every day to just cry." Steve put a hand over his heart.

"Can you do that to my schedule too? Maybe we can cry together?"

"I'll see what I can do." Steve agreed, before opening his arms up for a hug. You happily hugged him back. "Good job today! You're going to do great on your assessment no matter who is assigned to asses you. We all know it."

"Thanks for teaching me!" You smiled. "In all seriousness, I've really enjoyed getting to learn from you. Thanks for all the time you've put onto me."

"Anytime, Bug. I've been enjoying it just as much." Then Steve turned to include Bucky in their conversation. "What are you guys up to for the rest of the day?"

"Nothing, well, I think that's pretty obvious considering I'm just sitting here" Bucky shrugged. "Do you guys want to hang out? Maybe we can walk to that cool park a few blocks from here? Watch the sunset and get some fresh air?"

"That sounds good to me." Steve agreed. "Buggy, you in?"

Both boys watched as you stood up and slipped your gym back onto your shoulder. "As fun as that sounds, I can't. You know Agent 563? We made plans to have an early dinner together so I have to get ready to leave here soon."

"Booooo, buzz kill!" Bucky announced dramatically.

"That doesn't mean you can't go on a cute little sunset date with your boyfriend without me, Bucky." You smiled at him. "By all means, you boys have fun."

"I think that's great." Steve told you, ignoring the boyfriend comment. "563 is a great agent, and I think it's important that you girls stick together.

"Lord knows we need some time away from the amount of testosterone in this place." You agreed.

“Even me?" Bucky pouted.

"Even you." You smiled at him, approaching him for a hug that you had to bend over pretty far to get. "And Steve. I love you both, but I need to interact with other people than just you two!"

"Hey! I only talk to you and Steve and I'm doing just fine" Bucky defended himself.

"What about Natasha?" Steve wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him.

"Don't bring up Natas-" Bucky started passionately

"I'm leaving!" You announced before an argument broke out. "Love you boys! Have fun on your date! I hope you hold hands and kiss each other's foreheads!"

Steve and Bucky stared at each other as you walked out of the room. The door closed behind you, and your foot steps faded until completely inaudible to either of their heightened ears.

"Why are you actually here, Buck?" Steve asked.

"You're in love with her." He claimed deadpan.

Steve's heart sank, but controlled himself the best he could as to not bluff. "Why would you say that?"

"I figured it out last night." Bucky admitted. "I was trying to sleep but my brain wouldn't turn off. I was thinking about the dynamic of our little friend group and it hit me like a train. I had to come confirm it with my own eyes."

Steve puffed out a performative chuckle and put his hands on his hips. "You understand how crazy that sounds, right?"

"Is it though?" Bucky raised an eyebrow while standing up from his spot on the floor. "I never noticed it until today. Your eyes physically twinkle when you look at her. Your cheeks have been pink since I got here, and you never stopped smiling until she left the room. Encouraging, sweet, considerate..."

"It's my job to be encouraging towards her, Buck. I'm her boss." Steve huffed, feeling annoyed and attacked by this conversation.

"Why won't you admit it?" He asked.

Steve stopped in place and noted Bucky's furrowed brows. "Wait, why do you seem so upset about this?"

"I'm not upset." Bucky denied, shaking his head. "But if you're actually pining after her, Punk..."

"What?" Steve's heart was pounding.

"Do you like her?" Bucky asked one more time, his tone was nothing but serious. His face was stone cold.

"I'm her boss." Steve slumped. "There's a power imbalance, I can't break her trust."

"And if she joins the Avengers?" His head tilted.

"She just got out of a relationship."

"It's already been a month since then." Bucky insisted. "Steve, this is between me, you, and the grave. I'm serious."

Steve threw his head back with a groan. It had been a while since he had seen Bucky this worked up about anything, so he knew it was important. But getting the admission to slip past his tongue felt morally wrong and partially impossible.

"Steve."

"Yes." He said simply, staring up at the ceiling.

"How long?"

"How long what?" Steve sighed.

"How long have you had feelings for her?"

"Since the day I met her..." Steve mumbled.

"Oh my-"Bucky rubbed his face with his hand before running his hand through his hair. "You hid it too well."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve froze up as his mind ran laps around Bucky's behavior. He already knew what was coming before he could admit to it.

"You're going to hate us, but I need to tell you something..." Bucky said apologetically.

Meanwhile, you were having a fantastic time with Agent 563, Clara. Though the two of you were friendly around the compound, you never had the chance to actually sit and have a long conversation with her before. Both of you getting the chance to vent about the workplace environment and culture to someone who actually understood what it was like to experience it in the unique way you did was refreshing to say the least.

After dinner neither of you were ready to end the conversation there, so you grabbed ice cream on the way back, and walked the whole way home together. At a certain point, work was a topic long forgotten as you two bonded over other similar interests like movies, hobbies, family, you two even shared the same love for video games.

By the time you made it back to your apartment, there was a smile on your face and a lightness to your heart you hadn't felt in a while. It was obvious that work was making you feel heavy and alone for a while, but you didn't realize how bad it actually was until you got away from it.

That smile was wiped off your face when you opened the door to Steve sitting on your couch with a stiffness in his body and an anger on his face you had never seen before.

"Hey, are you alright?" You immediately asked as his head snapped over to you the second the door opened.

Alarm bells were instantly ringing. Your heart dropped into your stomach, and raced with a speed you didn't quite know was possible.

You had given Steve and Bucky a key to your place just like you had keys to theirs, but the three of you typically hung out at Steve's place. Either of them coming to your apartment was a rare occurrence, and them ever using your key was even more rare.

Steve watched you kick off your shoes and hang up your purse, he felt so many emotions all at once that he couldn't even begin to get the words out.

You hesitantly approached, he still didn't answer. "What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve questioned. His tone very obviously gave away his state of emotion, it only made you feel more anxious.

You had a suspicion what this was about, but number one rule as an agent was to never incriminate yourself. "Tell you what?"

"Don't do that with me." Steve denied. "Bucky already told me. I don't understand why you guys would do that and keep it from me."

Your posture slumped knowing that this reaction was exactly why you and Bucky decided to keep a dirty little secret from Steve. So you sat down on an armchair next to the couch he sat on so you could explain.

But, he didn't even give you a chance to defend yourself before he spoke again. "Did either of you even consider how hooking up with each other would affect me?"

"Hey now, let's get some facts straight." You didn't let him go any further. "I feel like the term hooking up is giving what we did way more credit than what it was worth, and yes, we did consider you, which is why we both agreed we weren't going to tell you."

"Great, thank you so much for the consideration. That makes me feel really secure in my friendships with both of you!" Steve said sarcastically, feeling betrayed and admittedly heartbroken beyond words.

"Wait" You shook your head. "I know that sounds bad, but you have to understand that we all have different morals and personal opinions when it comes to sex and we knew you wouldn't understand."

"What is there to not understand?" He questioned. "You two had sex with no regard to how it would effect our friendships with each other."

"First of all, it wasn't sex, there was no penetration." You corrected. "Second of all, we didn't think it would effect our friendships because that's all we are to each other."

"I don't care about the details or what actually went down between you. Had either of you told me you liked each other from the get go it wouldn't have been a problem. I would've been happy for you two." He grumbled.

"We don't like each other." You denied. "We were just at the right place at the right time, things moved fast, and that's that. There's no romance happening, nothing to make social group weird. We all know Bucky likes Natasha."

"Well it's weird now." Steve glared at you.

"What do you want me to do now? It already happened, I can't go back and change it." You noted. "Want me to suck your dick too and call it even?"

"This isn't funny and I really don't appreciate that comment." He scoffed.

"It wasn't weird for you until Bucky opened his mouth, huh?" You asked him. "Was it weird for you two weeks ago when it actually happened?"

"I don't care." He swallowed thickly.

Feeling quite taken back by his behavior, and a little more that a little annoyed that Bucky spilled the beans, your attitude came out. "I'm a grown woman capable of making grown choices, and I don't owe you an explanation of what I choose to do with my body, Steve."

"No, you don't." He agreed, but you made him snap. "But I'm feeling betrayed and disrespected by the two of you, and that, I do feel like I'm owed an explanation for."

"Are you mad at Bucky too?" You snapped right back. "Huh? Did you yell at him?"

"He told me the truth." Steve rationalized.

"Yeah, well I never lied to you." You pointed out. "And why did Bucky feel the need to tell you what we did privately? Huh? Do you feel like I'm allowed to feel betrayed and disrespected for him going against our word?"

"I'm not here to tell you how to feel. I'm here to try and rationalize any of the choices we're making right now." He raised his voice. "My friends are the only family I have, and I refuse to lose a friend I've already lost many times before over a stupid choice."

Just with that one sentence, he broke your heart. "And that right there, is exactly why I thought it was okay in the first place." You growled as all of your self defenses came rushing in to protect you from the words you always knew to be true but never wanted to admit.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm expendable to you and Bucky. I always have been." You stood up from your spot next to him. "You say you're upset because you didn't want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group but guess what? The dynamic has always been you and Bucky hanging out and me just kind've being there. You'll always choose each other, and everyone will always choose someone else over me."

"That's not true." Steve denied. Although he was seeing red with anger, your words made him sad for you.

"I'm never anyone's first choice, Steve. You'll always choose Bucky, Bucky will always choose you. My sister will choose her husband, Harvey will always choose literally anything but me. Nobody else here is willing to be my friend because it's like social suicide, and I had to completely isolate myself from my normal civilian friends for this job." You explained. "I'm the best agent so I get used and abused and harassed out of the pack, but if I become an avenger I'll be singled out as the worst one. You and Bucky claimed you'd always have my back but now I know that's not true."

"Stop saying that." Steve shook his head.

"Nobody wants me." You spat, Steve could tell you believed that to be true.

It shattered his already broken heart, because if you had even the slightest clue of how bad he wanted you, you'd never say those words again. But he couldn't tell you, it simply wasn't an option.

"Nobody wants me ever but that night, Bucky wanted me. So forgive me for latching onto any ounce of human connection I can get these days. That choice was never about you, and I'm sorry that it hurt your feelings but I'm struggling more than I ever have and right now I need to put me first."

"Bucky and I have always loved having you around."

"That might be true, but you proved my point with your own mouth." A single tear fell down your cheek, but you wiped it away just as fast as it fell. "You said you weren't willing to lose Bucky. But right now it feels like you're willing to lose me."

"Don't be mad at him." Steve shook his head.

"He had no right telling you that without consulting me first." You denied. "Unless he broke some kind of code or something there was no rea-" Your own words made reality wash over you like an angry ocean wave trying to swallow you whole. "Oh my god."

"No-" Steve shook his head.

"He broke bro code, didn't he?" You asked Steve, feeling suddenly nauseous.

Steve felt nauseous too. His brain couldn't think of anything but the truth at the moment, but he was horrified. Though he tried to formulate the correct response, nothing felt right at the moment. "You slept in my bed."

"Oh my god." You took a slow step back, unable to process what information you were just receiving. He watched as your face turned just as red as his. "You like me?"

A billion different things came to mind. So many scenarios, so many possibilities, every single time you suppressed your own feelings for Steve because you never thought a man like him could ever love you. It was wrong. Yet all this time, he was harboring a secret of his own. And even then it was still wrong.

"You slept in my bed while you had a boyfriend." Steve spoke so firmly you swore you could feel the bass vibrating the floor.

"This whole time you we're hoping I'd jump right into your arms after breaking things off with Harvey?"

Steve knew where this was going, and the look on your face was just as horrified as he felt. Your lip was wobbling, your hands were shaking, and with every statement you took a step back. "No. But I did think that there was enough happening between us that you wouldn't go for Bucky."

"I slept in your bed because I trusted you, you asshole." You cried, pointing a finger at him. "I slept in your bed while staying with Harvey because he was the only man crazy enough to actually love me and I didn't ever think anyone would be crazy enough to love me ever again."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His jaw hung open for a moment, before it closed, then opened again. "Well then I guess you were wrong."

"I was wrong." You agreed, wiping your face once more as you watched his eyes tear up. "I trusted you to keep me safe in training, protect me against the people who are harassing me. I trusted you as a friend, a confidant. I even trusted you enough to see me naked, but I was wrong."

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you." Steve mumbled. "Because you trusted me and I didn't want to break it. Bucky didn't know."

"So let me get this straight. You had a secret that you kept from both of us, but Bucky's actions are excusable because he didn't know. My actions are inexcusable but I also didn't know, and we did the exact same thing together?" You asked. "You spend a lot of time talking shit about men's double standards around the compound for someone who turned around and is treating me the exact same way."

"I'm trying to talks through this so we can all go back to being friends."

"You we're never my friend." Your words cut through his heart like a knife. "You we're someone being nice to me in hopes of getting in my pants one day."

"No, that's not true." Steve pleaded, blinking back tears. "Our friendship means a lot to me. That's why I'm this upset in the first place."

"I don't think I can ever go back to being just friends with your or Bucky ever again." You cried. "All of you guys here are the same, I can't do this anymore."

Steve watched you clutch your stomach, as you spun on your heels and walked straight for the door. Little did he know, you felt so nauseous you were trying your hardest not to throw up.

"So that's it?" Steve asked, standing up from the couch. "You're going to throw away everything the three of us have built together as friends because we can't have a rational conversation?"

"A rational conversation? You can't even admit that you're only mad at me because you wanted to get into my pants and now you feel like you can't because Bucky got me first." You turned around to look at him. "That's all I am to anyone. That's the only relationships I've been able to form since I've gotten in this compound. You, Bucky, Harvey. I'm not a human to you guys, I might as well just be a glory hole."

"You're misunderstanding me." Steve shook his head, eyebrows raising upward like a sad puppy.

"That makes two of us." You turned back around and grabbed your packed duffel near the door that you always kept for emergencies.

"I care about you, you know that right?"

"It sure doesn't feel like it right now." You denied his claim.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked. "This is your house."

"The compound has never felt like home to me." The door swung open. You didn't even look back at him before stepping through the doorway. "Don't worry about where I'm going, just say the fuck away from me."

And just like that, the door slammed behind you and rattled the ground. You set off like a storm on the other side, and Steve was left on his own to crumble. Only when he was sure you were gone for good did he let tears fall down his face.

Trying your absolute hardest to hold it together you rushed through the compound hallways, desperately trying to avoid seeing anyone you knew before you made it to your car.

You didn't have it in you to have a face to face conversation with Bucky at the moment, but you did feel like you needed to tell him that the friendship was over, so you called him instead.

"Hey, bug." He answered sympathetically.

"Why did you tell him?" You cried.

"I had to." There was a deep sigh from the phone line. "What did he tell you?"

"Why the fuck are you protecting him?" You asked. It was admittedly a little harsh, but Steve had already amped you up.

"So he told you everything." Bucky stated. "I figured out he was in love with you last night. I couldn't in good conscience keep our secret anymore. He needed to know because the longer we kept it from him the worse this would've been."

"He doesn't love me, Bucky." You denied. "What he did wasn't love. It was control, and it was power, but it's not love."

"I can tell you're upset with him, but I don't think that was his intention." Bucky calmly denied. "Give it a few days to settle, alright? You can be mad at us all you want and I understand why, but emotions are high right now and it seems like both you and Steve are villianizing each other."

"I'm going to be gone for the weekend." You stated, needing to set firm boundaries. "I love you, but you hurt me and I need to get away."

"I'm sorry, bug. I really am." He apologized.

"You, Harvey, and Steve will all be blocked from reaching me unless it's during work hours. And as of now, I can't be a friend of yours."

"I understand" Bucky accepted the repercussions of his actions, though he was sad about it. "I hope you know we care a lot about you. I'm sorry this is all happening this way, but I still want you to be safe. Will you let someone know where you're going? Maybe Commander Bennett?"

"Yeah, I will." You agreed, feeling relieved that at least Bucky was being rational. "I hope in a little while we can figure this out between you and I, but it's going to take some time."

"I hope so too." He agreed. "Stay safe, and be smart. I'm here for you whenever you're ready."

You hung up, drove off, and the second the compound was in your rear view mirror it felt like the weight of the world was off your shoulders.

The weekend came and went simultaneously way too fast, yet painfully slow at the same time. You stayed with your sister who welcomed you with widely opened arms, and really took the time to listen to you when you spoke. She let you get it all out, she wiped your tears, then by morning you'd put on a brave face for Luca.

Spending a lot of quality time with him was truly the only reason you hadn't fully lost your mind. By Monday you felt well enough to face the shit show that was work, but it didn't last very long.

You had made it a whopping 4 hours into the work week before getting sent to Steve's office with an ice pack pressed to your cheek and Commander Bennett opening the door for you.

Steve looked up as the two of you entered, but your eyes were glued to the floor. You didn't need to look around to see where the chair was. You already knew.

He hoped that Bennett couldn't feel the thick tension that filled the room, but it was unusual for him to follow you to his office, and he did take note of how bad you looked.

Well, unfortunately for him he always thought you were stupidly beautiful, but your eyes were swollen. You looked exhausted, drained, and nothing like your usual fiery self.

"We need to do something about 212." Commander Bennett cut straight to the chase. "We can't keep cutting into her work time and having her get hurt because 212 and all his awful friends are picking on her."

"What happened?" Steve asked, trying to see what was under the ice pack.

"I saw them trip her with my own eyes. I don't know if they thought I wasn't watching, or if they thought they were being sly enough that I wouldn't notice, but this cannot continue." He stood firm. "Poor thing smacked her face against the floor, but she still is claiming that reprimanding them will make it worse. So what's the solution?"

Steve sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Do you have any ideas, Commander?"

"Give them one more strike. Let them all know that if they pull this again one more time before evaluation we will disqualify them from taking the test." He suggested. "That includes physical, and verbal attacks."

"That's a really good idea, thank you." Steve agreed. "I'll talk to them today."

"Are you comfortable with that, 306?" Bennett asked you.

"Yes, sir." Your voice was hoarse.

"I'm going to give her the option of cutting her work day short or continuing her training, but no matter what we all know she doesn't need more training." He noted. "I'll leave her with you so you guys can figure out your schedules."

"Thank you." Steve said politely.

Bennett left and the door clicked shut behind him, but your eyes stayed glued to the floor. Your options were go to your apartment and sleep the rest of the miserable daylight away, or spend two hours alone in a room with Steve.

You both already knew what the choice was going to be. There was no need to discuss the schedule change.

Steve knew you hated his guts right now, and he was still feeling hurt by you, but it took a few moments for it to dawn on him that he still needed to be a boss and a leader regardless. So he put his best foot forward.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

There was barely any compassion in his voice, he might as well have been a robot, so you didn't bother responding. You didn't even bother looking at him.

"Would you like to talk about the incident?" He pushed.

"No, Captain." You responded, coming to the same awareness that he was still your boss.

Your use of his title and refusal to look at him felt like a shot to the heart. "Would you like to be relieved of duties until tomorrow?"

"Yes, Captain."

"You are dismissed."

Just like the last time he saw you, you walked out on him without as much as a glance back knowing the next time you'd be forced to see him would be evaluation day.

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ronearoundblindly · 2 months

Text

Hideout (1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Puppy, (see premise post or series)

Summary: An ultra-shy man named Grant arrives with various friends to your family-owned motel. He opens up slowly over the months...and grows a fantastic beard. 🤭

While this part has no mature situations, this series will be 18+ only. MINORS DNI. This is mostly pure setup for the smut in every future chapter. Your media consumption is your responsibility; please choose for yourself if these matters trigger you. If so, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not it! WC ~2k

He first arrives with only his friend—two fit fellas, one white, one black. They pay in cash, share a double room. The most information you get is Tom Smith, the more open of the two, joking that you’ll have to excuse Grant’s shyness.

Grant doesn’t seem to respond to his own name.

He’s a beefy blond, and your impression is the man doesn’t need to have a lot going on up top to get by in life. You do try not to judge, though. Your job is more about keen observation and recognizing the needs of your guests.

These two guests need privacy. They aren’t unfriendly, but they are not chatty. They go as quickly as they came. One night. The room is slept in, but they were clean enough.

The next time they show up they need three rooms, but you only have two available. Tom and Grant bunk up again, and a couple are with them who do not come into the office. The woman has beautiful auburn hair that she covers with a ball cap, and her very tall beau—whose hand she holds—shields himself in far more clothing than necessary this time of year.

They all sleep (you assume) during the day and only socialize at night when the other guests aren’t around.

Not that the party is loud; they simply seem more at ease when it’s harder to see. They stay three or four days, leaving rather suddenly early one night after paying for the time already.

Sporadically, this continues.

Once it’s only the couple. She is very reserved and he is very awkward, but again nice enough. They stay for nearly two weeks, enjoying hikes in the area, always holding hands. The woman relaxes significantly. It’s quite lovely to see.

Mister and Misses Durham, you know them as. They don’t always respond by name either.

Another visit makes five guests with the addition of a beautiful young woman. Her hair is cropped and bleach blond, and she is by far the most at ease.

It’s this visit that you realize they are just staying in their rooms during the day not sleeping, and you find the karaoke machine to take to Tom’s room.

He’s thrilled, thank goodness, because you don’t normally offer up activities to those who don’t ask about them, but Tom bangs on the doors of the other two (you think) couples so they can join him.

You’re about to leave when he asks you to do a duet with him.

Grant throws out that Tom enjoys Marvin Gaye. It’s the most you’ve heard him say, ever.

“I do,” Tom agrees, “but I don’t mess with the master.”

So you have the idea to sing Marvin Gaye—the song—with Tom as Charlie Puth and you as Meghan Trainor.

It’s quite a lot of fun, belting as best you can, finding Grant’s intense gaze on you for the lyrics: I’m like a stray without a home… I’m like a dog without a bone…

Just as quickly, however, you have to go back to the front desk. Duty calls and all.

You make sure they know the machine is all theirs for as long as they want. Their rooms are too far down the line of the building to hear if they do enjoy it for long, but you get no complaints about noise. You hope for the best.

Later that night, Grant comes by the office, carrying the machine with a smirk on his face and the most genuine appreciation on his lips. He has a lovely deep voice you never knew about.

He just talks to you.

It’s all superficial conversation about the area, the weather, what activities you like on your days off, but even that seems a struggle for him.

Tom was not kidding. His friend is extremely shy. He has trouble thinking up casual questions. He can’t look you in the eye until responding, and he doesn’t give more than a few words in answer to anything.

You laugh--you have to—when Grant asks if he can walk you to your door, which…is ludicrous because you live in the house a whopping fifty meters past the main motel. Your family has owned and run this place for three generations. You’ve walked that path your whole life.

“I like walking,” he shrugs, though from the sheer muscles on him, he does way more than just walk. “I was gonna do a lap or two anyway.”

“Well, I have to wait for Clark to show up, but—“ you look him up and down “—okay.”

Grant is so sweet but so stiff. He holds himself with purpose when actively thinking, but you catch him having these distant moments. He withers like a violet, a shell that’s too small for his big body. He seems lost and lonely.

You’re glad to do whatever keeps him company. Your goal for the night is to make Grant smile as much as humanly possible, but that’s difficult when he won’t let you know anything about him.

Twenty minutes later, Clark, a local stoner kid who hardly looks up from his phone, waltzes in, stepping around Grant like a wall that’s always been there and throwing a “hey, man” out with zero regard for a response. Classic Clark. That’s why he’s on night shifts.

So you grab your bag and let Grant hold the door open for you.

Maybe you’ve been watching the Durhams too much when they come around, but you feel a compulsion to hold his hand. You don’t, obviously, because you only just heard this guy speak for the first time today. It would also be incredibly awkward to hold Grant’s hand in the dead silence that follows on your way up the gravel path.

You’re so consumed by figuring out what to say next that you don’t notice till the beast is right there.

An elk walks right in front of you, taller than Grant. From this angle the animal blocks the entire view of your house it’s so big, and you jump back, slamming into your startled escort’s chest.

You both freeze as it moves slowly at a diagonal to the other side of woods, bringing it and its gigantic horns closer still.

It squawks like some sort of awful banshee and stamps huge hoofs. You throw your weight backward and spin to flee, clambering over Grant’s body.

Why you’re so scared, who knows; you should be used to the wildlife, but no creature has ever done this before.

The most shocking thing, however, is how strongly Grant tries to hold you immobile.

The harsh grip on your waist and the way he hisses through his teeth for you to stop should be your hint, but instead you cling to him harder, asking quietly if the animal is gone.

“Uh…” Grant tenses against you. “It’s…it’s just—“ he shudders when you wriggle “—yes, gone,” he bites out, pushing you away by the hips.

He takes a second to breathe, buries his hands in his pockets, and leans forward, gathering himself.

It was scary. That could have turned nasty very quickly. You were lucky Grant was there and calm…except he was sorta the reason you were distracted in the first place.

Finally composed, he sighs and motions forward. “Let’s get you home.”

Two months later, Grant’s initial five o’clock shadow has come in nicely.

You’ve learned the routine of their check-in. There’s only one room available, unfortunately, but if they stay more than two days, there should be another open.

Tom shrugs and offers a playful, “we’ll see. We go where the wind takes us.” He smooths his palm over a fresh fade at his nape and the sharp angles of his goatee.

“And you, I see, have stopped in for a cut with Terrence in town. He loves the three slices like that.” That's how the barber marks his work. Terrence's shop is very popular.

“It’s a good signature. Wish I could'a convinced this big lug to get a trim.” Tom elbows his friend who stares at his feet.

Grant runs his fingers through his golden locks and swallows. “Yeah, well, maybe next time.”

Without realizing what you’re doing, you stand on the rungs of your stool behind the counter and reach for his lusciously full beard.

“Don’t you dare get rid of this,” you chide, fingertips grazing the skin of his cheek beneath the course yet soft hairs.

You should apologize. You should let go and sit back down. You should professionally hand them their key and be done with it, but instead, you linger, watching his blue eyes darken with a primal devastation.

He’s prey caught in a cage.

You release Grant’s face with an awkward laugh and a shake of your head.

Tom makes his own, very knowing face, and winks.

“You should do that more. Touch him. He could use it.”

Grant clears his throat harshly and blushes, mumbling something about which room number you said they had and that he’ll bring the other bags from the car. He leaves. Tom takes the keys with another wink and a sassy tap on the hardwood.

“Thank ya, ma’am. We appreciate it.”

It’s about twenty minutes later when your pen rolls off the edge of the counter, you find a small duffle left where Grant stood.

“He was joking. It was a joke,” Grant blurts when he finds you standing there to give it back.

You just smile and say Tom isn’t wrong.

“So, if you ever just want a hug…” you mutter, taking a chance to scratch at his bearded chin again. “Not like you’re gonna hurt me.”

He looks back inside, as if seeking permission or checking to make sure his friend is still in the bathroom, singing in the shower.

Grant can’t seem to meet you halfway, but he does inch forward, struggling to word a simple ‘yes.’

The tentative embrace starts with only the top of his chest touching you, bent so his butt is out, no pressure on his hands at your shoulders, so you push a little more and a little more. You get close enough he needs to wrap his arms around you instead. He has to stand straight so his chin doesn’t poke your forehead. He whimpers slightly when your own arms encircle his tiny waist.

A few breaths later, he relaxes into a lovely full-body hug, his rough fingertips on your bare skin where your shirt bunched up. You’re both being human, no more, no less, tangled in simple comfort.

Grant tucks his face into your collarbone suddenly and squeezes, not so hard that it hurts but not gently either. The move tickles you with his beard, your hands pawing up his back as you giggle, and he whines like wounded prey.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothe. “I can be here, if you want, to hold. It’s okay.”

That has the opposite effect you intended, knocking him out of some soft reverie and launching him back a foot, a necessary but unwelcome distance.

Grant looks guilty, needy, and resigned as he thanks you for returning the bag and sees you out the door.

dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics

A/N: This will be the shortest (probably) of all the parts, and yeah, we get into some smuttier moments pretty quickly... Stay tuned!

[Next Part: Sweet Baby]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #nomad steve #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #touchstarved #touch-starved!steve #hideout series

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