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#steve rogers AU
espinosaurusrexex · 4 months
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Watchful Eyes
CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU
read Bucky's story here
summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)
word count: 10.8k
warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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“Can you start Monday?”
“I can start Monday.”
“Perfect.”
Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 
You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  
It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 
There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 
The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  
The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 
The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 
You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 
“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 
Holy Shit. 
Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 
Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.
“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”
Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.
“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.
“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 
Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.
The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 
You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 
“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 
“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.
“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”
His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 
“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”
“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.
Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”
Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 
“Sure.”
“I’m serious, Buck.”
“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 
Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 
As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 
“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 
Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 
“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.
“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 
“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 
It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 
Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 
“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 
“Just shut up, punk.”
“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 
Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 
But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 
He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 
“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”
“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 
“You aren’t serious.” 
“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 
“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 
“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 
Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.
“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 
Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 
Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 
“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 
And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 
By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.
You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  
Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 
With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 
You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 
You knew better though. 
People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 
Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.
Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 
So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 
Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 
Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.
He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 
The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 
Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 
It was worrisome. 
He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 
He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.
You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 
“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 
Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“
“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 
Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 
“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 
“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 
You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 
He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 
“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 
Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 
His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”
He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 
After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 
Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 
The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 
He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 
The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 
You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 
“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 
“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 
“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 
But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 
You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 
“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 
“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 
“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.
You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 
“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”
“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 
“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 
“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”
“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 
“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”
Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 
“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”
“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 
“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 
“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 
This was definitely new.
❁ ❁ ❁
The next week was pure torture. 
Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 
It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 
Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.
It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 
“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 
Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 
The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 
Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 
His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 
He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 
“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 
His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 
Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 
Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 
For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 
Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 
He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  
Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 
“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”
“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”
“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”
“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 
“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 
“So...?”
“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, very.”
You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”
“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?
“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 
“I knew it!”
“Nat, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 
Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 
Happy one month!
Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.
Happy one month.
You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.
You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 
“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 
“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 
“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 
Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.
With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 
It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 
Just like any other day...
❁ ❁ ❁
Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 
Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 
But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.
“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”
“What? When?”
“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 
“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 
“Amazing! Thank you so much.”
She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 
You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 
Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 
“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 
To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 
“You forgot your flowers.”
“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 
“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”
His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 
“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 
“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”
“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 
“Can I trust you?”
His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”
“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 
Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 
You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?
His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 
So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 
Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 
Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 
Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 
No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 
“You’re very good at this.”
He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 
“What are you doing?”
“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 
Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 
“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 
“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 
You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”
“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 
You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”
His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 
“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 
“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 
In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 
“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 
“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 
“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 
“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 
“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 
You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?
“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”
“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 
His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 
He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”
“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”
He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 
You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 
“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”
“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 
“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”
“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”
You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 
“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 
“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”
His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 
“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.
“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”
“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 
“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”
“I don’t know if I-“
“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 
“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”
“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 
“Wait. Almost there.”
“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 
Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 
“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”
And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.
He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 
A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 
But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 
“Good morning, Sharon.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”
“What? Until when?”
“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”
“Do you know what she has?”
“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”
Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 
“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 
“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 
“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 
Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 
“Hello?”
Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 
“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?
“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 
“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?
“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”
You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”
“I’ll see you.”
And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.
So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 
First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 
It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.
His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 
The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 
Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 
You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 
His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 
He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 
“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 
“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.
You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.
Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.
Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 
You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 
In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.
Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–
*smack*
His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 
“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”
“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 
It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 
“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”
You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 
“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”
Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 
“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 
He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 
He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”
“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 
Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”
He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 
His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 
The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 
Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.
I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!
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hansensgirl · 5 months
Text
☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.
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pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).
warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. | ~4.8k
author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY
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The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.
For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.
Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.
When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.
Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.
His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.
It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.
Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃
He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.
Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻
Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.
Great, thank you so much! See you then :)
You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.
The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.
Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.
She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.
The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.
He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.
Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.
When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.
Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.
That is, if he’s her biological father.
The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.
Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.
Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.
She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.
It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.
“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.
“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.
For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.
“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.
Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.
Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.
He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.
Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.
Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.
Please do. The door will be unlocked.
You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.
Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.
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You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.
Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.
You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.
Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.
“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.
The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.
“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”
You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.
“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.
“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.
You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.
“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.
“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”
When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.
“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.
“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”
There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.
“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”
Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?
“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.
When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.
“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.
Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.
He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.
The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.
“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”
“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”
“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.
Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.
You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.
“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”
His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.
“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”
“Please, Sir,” you whisper.
The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”
You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.
Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”
He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.
Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.
Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.
He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.
Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.
Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”
Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.
Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.
In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.
Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.
His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”
You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.
He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.
“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”
The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.
It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.
Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.
It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.
“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.
Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.
You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.
“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.
“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.
He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.
“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”
He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.
The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.
A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.
“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”
Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.
“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”
His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.
His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.
“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.
“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.
That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.
Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.
Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.
Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.
His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.
Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.
“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”
You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.
Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.
His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.
For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.
Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.
But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,
Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.
Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.
You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.
But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.
“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”
For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.
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sinner-as-saint · 10 months
Text
good girl
Stucky x Reader (uni au) 
Run-through: You come home all sad and upset after a horrible date, and your two best friends cheer you up in the best way ever. 
Themes: virgin!reader, dom!stucky, smut, fluff, slight angst, loss of virginity, praise kink, steve x bucky (hehe) 
a/n: i’ve been MIA i know, but uni’s a bitch sometimes. Anyway, I love you guys so much!! 
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You wiped your tears away as quickly as possible when you heard the front door opening. 
They were here. Steve and Bucky, your best friends. Also roommates. Also the only people who could make such a terrible evening better. 
Wiping your tears was useless because the moment they both walked into the living room and their soft eyes settled on you, you broke into silent tears again. You managed to get one brief look at them before your eyes got blurry with tears. Steve with his hat backwards and his tight t-shirt and Bucky in his usual black jacket. 
They both rushed to you on the couch immediately. Their boyish scents; cologne and aftershave and whatnot filled the air you breathed and you loved it. 
“What happened, doll?” Steve asked softly despite being surprised to see you in tears, sitting down beside you with his strong arms around you like a safe cocoon. 
Bucky sat on the other side, sandwiching you between their muscular bodies, as he said, “We thought you’d be out all night. Did something happen with the guy?” His tone went from being calm to now alert. “Did he hurt you?” Bucky asked, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to go find the guy and punch him in the face. Repeatedly. If he did hurt you. 
You sniffled, their combined body heat grounding you like nothing else could. You leaned back a little, their shoulders brushing against yours. “He didn’t do anything bad. But…” You trailed off. 
“But what?” Steve asked, getting ready to take whatever action he needed to take. You felt him tense up against you as you leaned into his embrace a little more. 
Bucky placed his warm hand on your exposed knee, his touch comforting and familiar. Only then did you realise you hadn’t changed yet. You were still in the little red dress from the date. “Come on doll,” Bucky said softly, “Tell us what happened.” 
You sniffled. “So,” You began with a shaky voice, and Bucky immediately began gently rubbing your knee as if encouraging you to speak. You sent him a thankful look and continued, “The date was going well, I think. I was having fun, and so was he.” You sniffled. “And then we began talking about… stuff.” 
They both froze, understanding. Then quickly got over it. Steve spoke first. “Did he… I mean, were you, uh, uncomfortable?” 
“No,” You responded quickly, “I was fine, in fact, I could see us going back to his place after dinner, you know?” You missed the look the boys shared as you kept talking, “And then… and then I had to ask him how he’d feel, um, being with an inexperienced partner.” You squirmed in place, sudding finding your fingernails very interesting. 
“Then what happened?” Bucky asked, taking your hands in his large one so you’d stop wringing them. His voice was so soft, and calm. Yet he was anything but. 
You sighed, “He said that would be stupid. He said, how could a grown woman be inexperienced. Then he asked if I had ever…,” You sighed again. Squirming again. “And when I said no, his whole face fell. Like all he wanted was what happened after. Like this whole dinner didn’t matter anymore. Like all I was good for was-,” 
Steve cut you off, “Hey, hey, hey,” He reached up to cup your face. “Forget about him, okay? He’s not even worth you crying over him. He’s an asshole. Forget about it.” He whispered, wiping your tears away. 
“I’m not crying because of a stupid boy.” You stated. “I’m crying because of how I feel. It’s.. it’s kind of embarrassing.”
Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. “Come here, doll.” With your back to his warm chest, you relaxed into his embrace. “Want me and Steve to go beat him up for you? Hmm?” He asked, playfully nuzzling your neck. 
You were ticklish so you let out a little laugh. “No,” You said. 
“And it’s not embarrassing,” Steve argued. “Alright?” He reached out and touched your cheek gently. “Now forget about him.” 
“I have. He was silly anyway.” You said, pouting a little. “His favourite ice cream is mint and chocolate.” 
The boys chuckled. “It’s kind of embarrassing that you went out with someone who likes toothpaste flavoured ice cream, honestly.” Bucky said. 
You laughed along with them and realised that this was all you needed. You wiped your final tears away and began thinking. And said, “He was kind of right though, wasn’t he?” 
They both frowned. “What do you mean?” Bucky asked. 
You said, “I mean, uni’s ending in about a year. I can’t still be a virgin. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to lose it, I do. I truly do. But I have trouble trusting people, you know? And honestly, that’s the only thing preventing me from, uh, having sex.” Your face felt hot. But you added, “Even though I really want to.” 
Something shifted in the air then. All three of you became suddenly aware of your proximity. Of your back against Bucky’s warm chest and your legs sprawled across Steve’s lap. Of how Bucky had been casually rubbing up and down your arm while Steve mindlessly caressed your exposed thigh. 
Over the years, how many times have you all been in this exact position? Countless, you’d say. All the movie nights. All the drunk nights. Parties. After parties. But none of those nights ever felt this… intimate. 
You looked up and found Steve with a heated look in his hooded eyes. Bucky was already breathing differently. And you… your heart was pounding. But the boys didn’t stop touching you. And you didn’t want them to stop. 
You shut your eyes for a moment. Every sense of yours heightened. The fabric of your dress was suddenly restricting. Their touch was driving you insane. Their scent was as well. You could taste the wild desire in the warm air. You’d never wanted anything more than you wanted the two of them in that moment. You couldn’t be bothered about the outside world right now. The date, the stupid boy, the past few hours you’d spent crying… nothing mattered anymore. 
This was almost heavenly. 
Bucky was the first one to get out of whatever trance you were all in. He cleared his throat and you opened your eyes immediately to find Steve much closer than he was earlier. Bucky said, “You know you can tell us to stop anytime, doll.” 
“I know.” You whispered, unable to focus on anything other than his body heat, or Steve’s eyes on you. “I know.” You repeated. 
Steve then asked, “Do you want us to stop?” His voice was different. Deeper. 
“No.” You whispered. 
They both moved instantly once the word left your mouth. Bucky dipped his mouth down to your neck while Steve leaned in to kiss your face. You couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling of both of their mouths on your warm skin. You’d been kissed before, but never like this. 
They kissed you like they needed the taste of your skin more than air. 
Steve’s hand slid up your thigh at the same time as Bucky’s hand slid under the neckline of your dress. Steve caressed your inner thighs while Bucky toyed with your breast. You were nothing but a writhing, whimpering mess in between their muscular bodies. 
Bucky breathed near your ear and you let out a soft moan, which made Steve freeze. Bucky chuckled and whispered into your ear, “Are you okay with this, baby?” He kissed the skin around your ear, “Hmm? Does this feel good?” 
You couldn’t answer him because you were busy whimpering as Steve kissed the corner of your mouth. He chuckled as well. 
“Is this okay? Or do you want more, doll?” He teased, as his fingers gently rubbed you through your thin underwear. 
You whined, accidentally grinding against his hand which made you whine even louder. Bucky swore under his breath as he watched you. “More,” You begged, “More please.” 
Steve smirked, pushing your underwear to the side before touching you properly. You whimpered even louder. Your own touch never felt that good. Behind you, you could feel Bucky undoing the zip at the back of your dress before sliding the thin straps down your arms. 
“Wanna touch you,” He breathed into your ear again. Your dress bunched around your middle as Bucky hands reached around to touch and play with your breasts. “Fuck,” He swore, “You’re so warm, baby.” 
Steve carefully slid one finger inside you, his eyes watching you intently and gauging your reaction the whole time. “Look at you,” He mumbled, maybe more so to himself, “Is this okay, doll? Does it hurt?” He asked. 
You looked up at him, and shook your head. “No. I want more, please.” 
Steve gave you a mischievous smile and said, “I’ve got you, doll. Don’t you worry about anything, you hear me?” When you nodded he smiled and said, “That’s a good girl. Now just relax, and feel good for me. Okay?” 
Before you could ask what he meant, Steve pulled your underwear down, parted your legs and settled in between them, his mouth inches away from you. 
“Trust me?” He asked. 
You nodded, and then he held your stare as he pressed his soft mouth to your dripping folds. You gasped when you felt his tongue lick up and down your slit. You threw your head back, resting it on Bucky shoulders while Steve ate you out like he had all the time in the world. 
Bucky kissed his way up your neck and finally placed his mouth on top of yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, making you moan and gasp louder. He pulled away and smirked down at you. 
“Are you being shy, baby?” Bucky asked. You shook your head, then let out a loud whimper as Steve teased a sensitive spot. “Then look at him. Come on, look at him.” Bucky made sure you looked down at Steve, and how diligently he ate you out. “Take his hat off, play with his hair. Show him how you like it. Guide his mouth where you want him.” Bucky whispered into your ear and as though under a spell, you did everything he told you to. 
You pushed Steve’s hat off and slid your fingers in his hair, making him growl as he looked up at you. You gasped at the intensity and the heat in his eyes. 
“Go on,” Bucky urged, like he was a little demon sitting on your shoulder, luring you to sin. “Grab him by his hair and move his mouth wherever you want it.” But seeing that you were hesitating, shy maybe, Bucky placed his hand on top of yours, sliding his fingers into Steve’s hair as well before moving his mouth to where he wanted. Right over your throbbing clit. 
Bucky chuckled when you moaned out loud. 
“See?” Bucky said, kissing the shell of your ear, “He’ll do anything. He’ll put that mouth wherever you want him to.” Bucky teased both you, and Steve. The latter looked up and glared at Bucky. 
Steve pulled away briefly and smirked at Bucky, “Don’t fucking act like you’re the one in control here.” He sounded mean, but in a playful way. 
Behind you, Bucky scoffed and tightened his grip on Steve’s hair and said, “Shut up and go back to eating like a good boy, Steve.” 
That tone got you thinking… had Steve and Bucky ever…? You always thought they were just close friends. Even though sometimes they shared looks that could possibly mean other things. Could it be that-
Steve’s tongue stopped you from completing that thought. You whined again, grinding against his tongue gently as his hand moved from your thigh to your hips, then your waist… then disappeared behind your lower back. You wondered what he was doing back there but then… Bucky let out a delicious groan and you realised that Steve was palming him through his pants. 
And that only made you feel even hotter. You focused on Bucky gasps and growls as Steve’s tongue made you come in no time. “Fuck,” Steve swore when he pulled away from you, licking his lips. “You taste amazing, doll.” 
You didn’t have it in you to be embarrassed anymore. So you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his lips gave you a high like no other. You deepened the kiss when he slid your dress down your legs and threw it down somewhere. You could hear Bucky taking his clothes off as well, and you began undoing Steve’s jeans. 
When Steve pulled away from your kiss to get rid of his shirt, Bucky took the chance to pull you back onto his lap. “It’s my turn with you now. I want to hear you moan for me too.” He said, looking down at your chest and unclipped your bra before throwing that somewhere as well. His mouth immediately wrapped around your nipple, making you cry out loud.
Steve inched closer and wrapped his mouth around the other breast. Both of their mouths teased, and bit, and sucked, and pulled until you were a moaning mess, cradling both of their heads and keeping them as close to you as possible. 
One of them caressed your inner thigh before parting your folds. You didn’t care who it was, you just wanted it. You felt a finger sliding into you, then sliding back out, and then back in until you were riding it. Another finger was added, and soon you were coming undone all over again. 
“Fuck, she’s sensitive.” Bucky mumbled before biting down on your nipple and making your cry out even more. 
Steve groaned in agreement, pulling away to kiss his way up to your mouth. “Come here,” He whispered, kissing you so deeply that you almost cried actual tears. “You’re such a good girl for us, doll. Look at you, such a sweet, pretty girl.” 
You whined against his lips and playfully bit down on it. 
Steve chuckled then said, “You want some cock in you? Huh? You got a taste and now you’re desperate for more, aren’t you?” 
You pulled away, giving Steve your best puppy dog eyes. Meanwhile Bucky groaned as he mindlessly kissed all over your chest. “You two are killing me.” 
Steve looked down at him, smirking as he said, “Oh look.” He cupped Bucky’s chin and traced his lips with his thumb, tugging on Bucky’s lower lip as he said, “Another one who’s desperate to come.” 
Bucky glared at him playfully. “Fuck off, Steve.” 
You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to ask, “Um, do you two…?” 
Steve shrugged, “Sometimes.” 
Bucky scoffed, “More than sometimes.” 
You nodded, “Oh. I didn’t know.” 
Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, “Now you do.” He said. “In fact, you’re more than welcome to join us anytime you want.” 
Steve leaned closer and said, “We’ve actually been waiting on it. That someday you’ll figure it out and… be curious. But you’re such an innocent, good little girl, you never even noticed.” 
You glared at him, teasingly. “I’m not that innocent. I just thought you guys were really, really good friends.” 
Which was stupid really. Because how could you have missed it? The stares they gave each other were nowhere near friendly, they almost undressed each other with their eyes. 
They both chuckled at that. And for a moment there, you all forgot you were even nearly naked and on top of each other. That’s how comfortable the boys made you feel. 
Bucky seemed to have picked up on what you were thinking, and said, “We can stop here, baby. We don’t have to do anything else.” 
Steve nodded, reaching out to touch your face. “Yeah, we’ll get dressed again and watch a movie or something. We can do this another time, no pressure.” 
You smiled at them. Both wearing only their boxers. You didn’t miss the erections, you just chose not to comment on it. “I know.” You said, then gave them a coy smile as you said, “But I want to keep going. I… I want this with you. Both of you.” 
“You sure? This isn’t just because of that dickhead, right?” Bucky asked. Steve awaited your answer just as eagerly as Bucky did. 
You shifted on Bucky's lap so you faced both of them properly. “No, this is what I want. And I want it with both of you.” 
Steve wasted no time in pulling you in for a kiss. When he pulled away, Bucky kissed you next. Then he pulled away and said, “I think we should head for one of the bedrooms. More space.” 
And in a few seconds, you all found yourselves in Steve’s bedroom as it was closest to the living room. Bucky tackled you down onto the bed and kissed you passionately. You were lost in the kiss, the only thing you could focus on was his chain dangling from his neck and ticking your chest, and the sound of Steve rummaging through drawers in the background. 
And this was heaven. 
Bucky’s hands roamed all over your bare body, his mouth eagerly tasting yours like he couldn’t get enough. “Fuck baby!” He growled against your mouth. “How dare you keep yourself from me this whole time, hmm?” 
You moaned when he began teasing your clit, his fingers finding their way in between your legs. “Bucky,” You whined, “Please make me come again.” 
He chuckled against your lips, then pulled away and stood up. He looked down at you, all bare and open for him. He almost took you right there and then. And oh all the things he would do to you… but not yet. He had to share with Steve of course. Later, he’d have you all to himself, sometime when Steve’s at the gym or out running errands. Later, he’d take his time and ravish you like you deserve to be. 
Bucky gave you a playful tap on the thigh as he looked up and found Steve equally as enchanted at the sight of you naked on his bed. 
Steve was just as lost in heated thoughts as Bucky was. Fuck, how many night had he and Bucky been in this room, desperately trying to be quiet as they made each other come. How many nights had they talked about how fucking amazing it would be to have you here with them? Later, he’d tell you all about those nights as he made you come over and over again. As for right now, he was gonna make sure your first time is as good as can be. Both he and Bucky would ensure that. 
“Come here, doll.” Steve spoke up from the other side of the bed. And you excitedly crawled over to him and knelt right in front of him not far from the edge of the bed. You felt the bed dip behind you and you knew Bucky was mere inches away from your back. 
Steve caressed your cheek lovingly, and said, “We don’t know what you like in bed, doll. You wanna tell us?” 
Oh. “I, well I don’t know yet. I’ve never-,” 
Steve rolled his head and bent down a little, getting eye to eye with you. “We all know you’re not that innocent, doll. Sure you haven’t had sex yet. But I’ve seen the smutty books on your shelf. I know what you read. I just don’t know what you like.” He said it so casually like he hadn’t just read you to filth. You tried your hardest not to hide your face. 
“Steve,” You whined, embarrassed. “Don’t say it like that.” 
Bucky laughed from behind you, then inched closer until you were basically in his lap again, both of you kneeling on the bed in front of Steve. “Oh don’t be embarrassed.” He said, “I Googled some of the books on your shelf once and showed it to Steve. We were both fucking baffled.” 
You hid your face in the palm of your hands this time, and said, “I hate you two.” Your voice sounded muffled, but they heard it. And laughed even harder. 
“I mean who knew innocent virgins read so much filth, huh?” Steve teased you even more as you kept hiding your face from both of them. 
“Stop.” You groaned. Trying your hardest not to focus on how his words made you want to do things you’d never done before. 
But like true best friends, they kept going. Bucky added, “I didn’t even know all those positions and kinks existed.” This made Steve laugh even harder, and you tried to run away from them but Bucky grabbed you by the waist and yanked you back into bed before you could and secured your wrists in his hand so you couldn’t hide. “Don’t be shy, say it. What do you like?” 
Steve leaned in closer and whispered, “Let’s make it easier for you, okay? How about you tell me what you think about when you touch yourself at night? Huh? What gets you going? What makes you want to shove your pretty fingers into your panties and rub yourself until you come?” 
You squirmed against Bucky, suddenly feeling his hard on against your back. You gasped, but quickly recovered as you said, to both of them, “You’re not allowed anywhere near my book shelf anymore.” 
Steve smirked, knowing damn well you couldn’t stop him if he wanted. Bucky just chuckled and nuzzled your neck, “You’re like a feisty dragon,” Bucky said, “Guarding her hoard of smutty books.” 
The boys chuckled as you whined and said, “You guys are so mean today.” 
Steve caved first, “Aww baby girl, come here.” He cooed, pulling you in for a kiss. And somehow, Bucky joined too. When Steve pulled away, Bucky’s mouth replaced his. And when he pulled away too, you opened your eyes to find them kissing each other. Ferociously. Passionately. 
Like they were lost in the taste of each other. Like they forgot the world around them existed. And you watched, entranced. Soft lips meeting in a wild dance, eager hands exploring each warm body. They made out in front of you and you could feel the tingly feeling in between your legs. 
You must’ve whined in a desperate manner because they pulled away, shared one last heated look, and then turned to smirk at you. “Impatient, are you?” Steve asked. 
Bucky played along, “That’s not what good girls do.” 
You shivered. Remaining quiet. 
Steve added, “Yeah. Good girls wait. Patiently.” 
Bucky said, mischievously, “They don’t whine and pout when they don’t get attention. They wait. That’s why they’re good girls. But you know what you’re being right now?” 
You were in the middle of the bed, but you felt cornered. So deliciously trapped. 
Steve inched closer and whispered, “You’re being a very, very bad and disobedient girl.” 
“And you know what happens to bad girls, baby?” Bucky asked, reaching for something but you didn’t dare look what he grabbed. 
“They get punished. And they get taught lessons on how to be patient.” Steve replied. 
You were under a spell. And you never wanted to break out of it. Within a minute or two you were handcuffed to Steve’s metal bed post. Not with one of those fake fluffy handcuffs either, these were sturdy. 
Both of your hands cuffed behind your back, and the cold metal post pressing against your spine, you remained in the corner of the large bed while the boys moved to the middle. As if they were about to give you a nice little show. 
And oh did they give you a show. 
Slow hands, and deep breaths. Quiet moans, and wet kisses. You watched how Steve and Bucky leisurely kissed, and touched and stroked each other. Hands reaching for each other’s cock, followed by grunts and moans, and groans of pleasure. You couldn’t move much, but you desperately needed some friction down there so you kept squirming in place as you watched them. 
Steve took his time kissing up and down Bucky’s neck while the latter tugged on his hair and brought his wandering mouth over to his, and the both sighed and groaned in relief momentarily. The erections in their black boxers were too prominent to ignore now. 
“Fuck…” You whined, “Please, please I’ll be good. I promise.” 
Aside from heated stares and a chuckle, you got nothing. “Good girls wait,” Steve said. 
“And they don’t whine.” Bucky added. 
You cried out, “This is torture.” 
Careless scoffs filled the room. “You wanna know what torture is?” Steve asked in that condescending tone you couldn’t hate. “Come on Buck, let’s give our doll a real show.” 
Bucky frowned, “I gave you head the last time. It’s your turn.” He sassed, ready to push down the waistband of his underwear. 
Steve grabbed him by the back of his head and growled, “Don’t forget who’s in charge here.” 
Bucky smirked, “Yeah, yeah. Well, don’t forget who’s older. Now come on, put your mouth to good use.” 
Steve looked down and Bucky had already had his cock out. Steve couldn’t argue any longer. Not when even you whimpered at the sight of Bucky’s hard, smooth erection. Steve bent down and immediately wrapped his mouth around Bucky, like he had done so many times before. 
“Yes,” Bucky hissed, “That’s it. Oh fuck, use your tongue.. Yeah, yeah that’s it.” Another loud groan left his lips, “Fuck.” 
You were a mess. A whimpering, squirming, wet mess. Watching Steve move his head up and down Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s moans only made you more inpatient. You watched as Steve pulled his cock out and began stroking himself at the same pace that he sucked Bucky. Watching his hand move up and down himself made you burn with desire. 
You were so busy watching them, watching their limbs move. Watching Steve’s throat as he took more and more of Bucky into his mouth, watching Bucky’s fingers tug on Steve’s hair and messing it up even more. Watching Bucky tip his head back and gasp and grunt in pleasure, watching Steve stroke himself until he began to leak… you didn’t realise that the two of them were watching you. 
Steve carefully pulled away from Bucky’s cock, his lips more pink and wet than usual. “See?” He taunted. “See how nicely you sat there, waiting?” 
You whined quietly. Murmuring, “Please.” 
“Oh fuck, baby. Come here.” Bucky rushed to you and undid the handcuffs before pulling you closer. You ended up being between both of them. Their bodies now warmer and damp. “Was that hard to watch? Hmm?” Bucky cooed. “Did you get all wet?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he reached down and inspected for himself. The devilish smirk he gave Steve meant that he was happy with what he found. 
“I think you’re ready for more now, doll.” Steve whispered, kissing your neck and then down to your shoulders. 
You realised that you’d have to make a choice on who gets to take you first. But you wanted them together. However, this was also your first time and you didn’t want it to hurt. But you wanted both of them… 
The boys picked up on what you were thinking, and Steve said, “Hey, don’t think too much.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, wrapping his arms around your from behind. 
In front of you, Bucky inched closer and took your chin in his hand. “It’s okay baby, I’ll let Steve have you the first time.” He said, “I’ll have you all to myself later. It’s just… I trust Steve to be a bit more gentle with you right now, okay?” 
You nodded. 
Steve smiled against your skin, kissing your cheek as he said, “Yeah, Bucky can be an animal. And we don’t want you to get hurt.” He clarified. Then smirked and said, “Some other day we’ll take you together. At the same time, okay?” 
You smiled and nodded again. 
The boys moved immediately. Steve grabbed a condom, while Bucky kissed you deeply as he repositioned you like how he wanted. And you found yourself on your knees still, but bent forward, ass up in the air towards Steve and your mouth really close to Bucky’s cock. You didn’t mind this at all. 
“You sure you’ll be okay? You wanna give it a try first?” Bucky asked, pointing at his cock which was all hard and tall in front of you. 
You held his stare as you sheepishly leaned forward and gave it an experimental lick. Then another. And when Bucky moaned, looking down at you with hooded, lust-drunk eyes, you dared to wrap your mouth around his tip. Just like you’d seen Steve do earlier. 
“Fuck…” Bucky groaned. “That’s it, baby. You’re such a good girl.” His fingers slid into your hair, and he didn’t rush you or move your head. “Your mouth feels so good, baby.” He just held you there and let you find your pace. 
You knew Steve was watching from behind you, and the way he was caressing your body meant that he liked what he saw. “You ready, doll?” He asked, fingers dipping into your folds to smear your wetness around. 
You pulled away from Bucky for a moment, looked over your shoulder and said, “Yes.” 
That was all Steve needed. And as you turned back to Bucky,  lowered your mouth and teased his tip with your tongue, Steve gently pushed inside of you. The feeling was foreign but in no way did it hurt like you expected it to. Perhaps because you were well lubricated and so fucking turned on. 
You heard both boys groaning as Steve slid all the way inside you, making you move together, your mouth on Bucky, and Steve sliding in and out of you slowly. You felt the stretch as Steve pulled out and pushed back in, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, you wanted more of it. 
Bucky’s moans got more frequent as you took him further into your mouth. Steve’s hand reached around and toyed with your sensitive clit as he gradually sped up into you, still being gentle and slow with you. He grunted as your walls wrapped around him perfectly. 
“Does that feel good? Hmm, baby?” Bucky cooed, tugging on your hair gently. You looked up at him and tried to nod, your walls clenching around Steve as he groaned and sped up into you. “You look so pretty, taking both of our cocks nicely like this. So fucking beautiful.” 
Your body moved in between the two men so perfectly, it almost didn’t feel like this was your first time. The horrible date and the silly boy seemed like a lifetime ago. This was all you wanted. This was where you wanted to be, forever if you could. 
“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight, doll.” Steve whispered under his breath, fucking you slightly faster. The momentum causing you to take more and more of Bucky into your mouth, and making him moan louder as well. 
Bucky held your head gently as you took him deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, baby.” He said as you took him in until he hit the back of your throat. “Doesn’t this feel good? Being stuffed like that? Hmm?” 
You just cried out in pleasure, with your mouth full. The boys chuckled. 
“Fuck, you take it so well, doll.” Steve pounded into you from behind, he groaned and grunted as your warmth wrapped around him perfectly. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He growled as he fucked you nice and deep. 
You knew you wouldn’t last too long. The pent up tension, all the teasing, and their damn words. It was all too much, too good. 
“Are you gonna come, doll?” Steve asked, hitting a spot which made your eyes roll. “Huh? Are you gonna come all over me?” 
You kept moaning around Bucky’s cock as Steve drove you wild with his cock buried deep inside you and his fingers toying with your clit. You felt the familiar warmth washing over you, accompanied by an unfamiliar pressure in between your legs… 
“Go on, baby. Come for us.” Bucky urged. “I’m so close… fuck,” He groaned with his head tipped back and the sight of his delicious neck was enough to make you clench around Steve. 
“Fuck!” The latter hissed. 
The following few seconds were filled with careless moans and grunts. Steve gave you his all as gently as you could, but even then you could tell he was holding back just because he didn’t want to hurt you. You felt the pressure build and build and build… 
Then Bucky came first, all over your tongue, swearing under breath and gasping as he watched you swallow all of him. Steve sped up into you, chasing his orgasm as well, groaning when he felt your walls clench around him, squeezing him as he fucked you. 
“Come.” He said, growling, “Come all over my cock, doll.” He swore again, “Be a good girl and come for us.” 
So you did. Bucky pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. You gasped and whined as Steve pounded relentlessly into you from behind until you came all over him. Bucky smirked as he watched you, how your face morphed into a frown of pleasure as you moaned a little louder. 
“Such a good girl,” He cooed, running his fingers over your scalp. “You did so well, baby.” 
“Oh fuck…” Steve growled. Finally slowing down, but remained buried inside you for a while longer. 
Your body tingled as you remained there, between them. A little sore, worn out, but you felt cared for as one of them gathered you into their arms and laid you down properly in bed. Soon, you were snuggled from both sides by your favourite boys. 
“Are you okay, doll?” Steve asked, repeatedly kissing your face. “I’m sorry if I-,” 
You cut him off by saying, “Oh you were perfect, Steve. Thank you.” You said. Then you turned to Bucky and repeated, “And thank you.” 
Bucky smiled and leaned in to kiss your temple. “Take a nap, okay? When you wake up, it’s my turn.” He gave you a wink and snuggled closer to you. 
You began to drift off when you heard Steve tell Bucky, “And then my turn again after that.” 
Bucky scoffed, “You had your turn, dumbass.” 
“Fuck you,” Steve argued, “Yeah I did, but…” 
You didn’t hear the rest of it as you fell asleep. You were warm, and safe, and satiated. In the arms of two of your favourite people in the world. Nothing else mattered.
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imyourbratzdoll · 3 months
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I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈
hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.
summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.
warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one. 
You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you. 
Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?” 
Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!” 
You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear. 
“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!” 
“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.
You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”
“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.” 
You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile. 
Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.” 
With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself. 
While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to. 
“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin. 
You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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navybrat817 · 1 month
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Focus
Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️
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A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.
It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.
With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.
Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.
Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.
His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.
Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.
A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.
The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.
You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.
The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.
He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.
Who wouldn’t fall for him?
You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.
“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.
You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.
“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?
The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”
Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.
“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”
Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”
“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”
“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”
You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.
You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.
“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”
“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”
“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”
“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.
Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”
Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.
He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”
You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.
Because why would he like you?
“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”
Which you did.
Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.
Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.
And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.
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They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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babyjakes · 3 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | monster fucking
pairing | steve rogers x fairy!reader
warnings | me knowing nothing about fairies. reader is in "fairy heat"? bruce captured reader (potentially inhumane conditions for fairy-keeping?) soft sweet steve. size kink LOL. th-thumb riding? fingering. p-pinky fucking? stretching. multiple orgasms. squirting. praise and encouragement that makes me feral. pity kink? is that a thing? if it is, i think i have it.
word count | 1,225
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an | i've never written monster fucking (or really anything super fantasy-oriented) so please be kind!! wasn't expecting to get sooo into this, but like there's just something about reader being literally so tiny that steve's pinky stuffs her to the brim that's making me all 🥲🫠😩
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what if bruce was off working in some top-secret remote location and brought you back with him: a sweet little fairy he'd captured while working out in the field, just as you were entering your fairy heat 🫠
maybe you're just about 7 inches tall, with the body/proportions of a grown young woman. he's been conducting research on your species for quite some time, so he's able to determine basics like your age, your likely place of origin, etc. he's thrilled to have caught you at the start of your heat
what's your fairy heat? i made that part up simple, it's the span of several days that occur around the same time every month when your body's at its prime and looking to breed. you become insatiably horny, almost to the point of it being debilitating, and all you can focus on during your excruciating waking moments is fucking yourself on anything of appropriate size in sight
you're kept in some sort of incubator in his lab, a glass box that's a few feet by a few feet wide and deep. the bottom of the enclosure is made of a soft cushiony material, making any spot a good spot to lay down and rest. miniature food and water bowls are set out for you, and a bright lamp hanging from the ceiling of the box shines 12 hours a day. it's a pretty miserable existence, your makeshift habitat nothing close to the wide open flower fields and prairies you're used to, but it allows the scientist to observe you closely without any distractions or interfering variables. and since you're in heat, you aren't too worried about where you are or who's taken you. all you can do is writhe around on the soft floor of the incubator in desperate, horny agony
maybe one day bruce is out of the lab, but he told steve he could come check out his new findings and maybe keep you company if you'd let him. when he enters the room and sees you lying there, squirming and struggling weakly, of course the supersoldier's heart is instantly hurting for you 🥺
he approaches the incubator slowly, not wanting to startle you. but pretty quickly he realizes that you're paying him no mind; you're too preoccupied with your discomfort. he takes his time observing you, standing right in front of the glass box as his huge frame towers over you. bruce told him a little about your condition and the science behind it. it made him blush, but he accepted it like he would learning about any other species and their unique reproductive habits
"poor thing," he hums to himself as he watches your tiny body wriggle in distress. he's stunned by how pretty you are. you have the most delicate little face, and your translucent wings with their iridescent shimmer look like something straight out of a fairytale movie. you're completely naked- bruce removed your scraps of moss carpeting and leaf clothing when he found you. but it's not strange or offputting in the slightest to steve. he just thinks you're beautiful, such a stunning little creature that seems too precious for this world 💕
he notices the plugged openings in the glass wall that allow bruce to reach in and work inside the enclosure. carefully removing the rubber inserts, he reaches a large hand in, wanting to offer you some comfort if you'll take it. you're so tiny that you could nearly crawl right into the palm of his hand and curl up if you wanted to
but snuggles are the last thing you're looking for in this moment. when you see his huge hand lying there, palm up just a short distance away from you, you weakly crawl over, wings drooping in exhaustion. you couldn't fly at the moment if you tried
steve is a little surprised as you hoist yourself up onto his thumb, your tiny legs dangling on either side of it. it only takes him a moment to realize what you're doing- his cheeks turn bright red as you begin rolling your hips desperately, a faint feeling of wetness forming on the pad of his finger as you leak your glistening juices all over him
"oh doll-" his voice is dripping with pity and concern. he doesn't try to stop you, just watches as you so needily try to relieve yourself. as strange as the situation is, he can't help but find your primal actions endearing, in a way
he continues watching sympathetically as you grind your tiny little pussy down against his large digit. his heart swells at the way you place your hands down in front of you, trying to keep yourself upright as you rock at a steady pace. just a few moments later, he sees your little body spasming and realizes you've reached orgasm by merely riding along on his finger. "oh my," he hums thoughtfully, watching as your precious little toes curl in delight
your face is much happier after your climax. steve watches curiously to see what you'll do next, staying silent as you climb off of his thumb and move to the other end of his splayed-out fingers. as you lie yourself down on your back and spread your legs out on either side of his pinky, he's again blushing deeply. "o-oh, hey little one-"
he watches as you begin pushing down to press the tip of his smallest finger up against your leaking hole. seeing how much you struggle to maneuver against him, steve takes even more pity on you. "here, doll. let me help," he decides, bringing his other arm through the unused hole in the glass. he moves it over to lift your back up gently, supporting you in a sitting position as he carefully begins easing his smallest digit up into you, smiling affectionately as you let out a soft sigh of relief
"there you go. that's it," he's murmuring encouragingly as he carefully fucks you with his pinky. your little pussy is so tight around him, he's surprised he's able to fit. but you're taking him so well, and there's something so sweet about the way you look as you sit here in his hands, letting him stretch you out over the smallest finger he has 💕
"good, just like that" "such a pretty little thing you are" "that feel good, doll?" "just keep taking it, sweetheart" "so good for me, keep going" he's not sure if you can understand his words, but there's something he finds satisfying about talking to you this way
he can somehow feel your second orgasm approaching, your walls growing a bit tighter around him as he works up his pace a little more to carry you over the edge. "there," he's humming proudly, smiling as you manage to squirt out forcefully against him. your come ✨literally sparkles✨ as it coats his finger
as you're floating down from your high, he strokes your hair with his thumb as you lean up against the rest of his hand that's behind you. your eyes are droopy, your body no longer writhing in discomfort. as questionable as his actions might've been, it's clear he's taken care of much of your discomfort- at least for now
whyyy was this hot 🫠🫠 maybe i need to write fantasy shit more often lol
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Teacher's Pet
Professor!Steve Rogers x problematic reader
Run-through: You were never a diligent student, but ever since professor Rogers noticed, his teaching methods changed your grades forever.
Warnings : mentions of divorce, daddy issues, drugs and alcohol
Themes : Slight angst, smut (cock warming, clothed + vaginal sex)
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Your parents divorced when you were 12, giving your mom sole custody of you.
Your father was abusive, he'd emotionally abuse you and never be there for your emotional needs, and your mother tried her best to raise you alone.
But life was hard growing up without a father figure.
You were now 22, and things did not get any better.
You were friends with the wrong people, who were only interested in drugs, alcohol, and lots of sex.
You'd join in, skipping college just to do those activities, and your group was so notorious that the whole campus knew about it.
They were unable to do anything about it, as some of the guys from your gang had parents who had donated to the college for years.
It was almost the first day of the second semester in college, and you and your group planned to go as you guys always went on the first day.
You got bored during most of the lessons, until one class.
A professor resigned and was replaced by a guy named Dr. Steve Rogers.
Holy fuck, he was so hot. From his properly styled blonde hair to his beautiful blue eyes accompanied by long eyelashes, to his pretty lips, to his height, to his abs and biceps.
Suddenly you wanted to attend college again.
Once you were out of his class, you went to your gang and gossiped all about him.
They'd tease you that "Y/N will one hundred percent fuck him for grades", or "Go suck his dick after class". You laughed along with them.
Your crush on that man started to develop more and more, as you attended his classes, and only his classes.
Before and after he taught, you'd always be with your gang, somewhere else, doing something terrible.
But you just had to be in Steve's class for the eye candy.
Unfortunately, though, Steve was teaching one of the harder subjects, and your grades remained the same.
One day, Steve called you after class ended, into his office.
You excitedly went there, fighting back a smile while walking.
You went back into character before knocking on the door, and he went to open it, and you instantly noticed a slight frown on his face, while inviting you to sit down.
After you sat down in front of his desk, he went behind the desk to sit on his chair.
"Y/N, we have to talk about your grades." He said softly, with a concerned look on his face.
You were so mesmerized at first by his beautiful self, that you didn't say anything leaving an awkward silence between the both of you.
"Y/N?" He asked.
You knew this would end up like other meetings about grades. You knew you'd just fail again and didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of a man like him.
"Oh yeah, sorry, I will work on them soon, I have to go now, bye!" You said rather sheepishly, getting up and slowly walking towards the door.
"I didn't tell you to leave." He said in an authoritative voice, causing you to embarrassingly hurry back into your chair.
"Y/N. This is a serious matter, and I've heard of how other professors seem to fail to help your grades." He said in his deep, slightly intimidating voice.
The thought of Steve talking about you to other teachers instantly made your heart flutter, but you had to focus on his serious words.
"So Y/N, I've come up with a strategy. Meet me at my house this evening." He said, handing you a piece of paper with his address on it.
You looked at it in surprise.
After the meeting, you skipped the next class to be with your friends, and they'd have their chitchats but it felt like background noise.
All you could think about was the paper.
Throughout those hours, you wondered what Steve wanted to do about your studies, at his house.
Why would he even invite you to his house?
That's when you had sexually intrusive thoughts, imagining Steve doing the most sinful, sexual things to you, and it made your underwear dampen on those occasions.
In the evening, you walked through his neighborhood to find his house and you finally did, knocking on the door.
Steve opened and invited you into the living room.
You sat on the opposite side of him in the dining room.
After some small talk and as he served you some cookies, he said something rather interesting.
"I heard about your gang, all the sex and stuff, so can you tell me some things regarding it?" He said while mixing his coffee with a small teaspoon.
Your heart jumped hearing those words come out of his mouth, and you had to remove the brain fog to find an answer to it.
"Oh yeah, sure. Well, I've been hooking up with guys since I was 19, they'd pay me for it, and I'd get pregnant on multiple occasions but unfortunately aborted." You said.
You don't know why you said all of that, especially to your professor.
Steve looked at you with a face that had an emotion hard to detect and took a sip of his coffee, he placed it on the table.
"What was the biggest one you took?" He said casually, looking at you, a smirk forming on his face.
Shock filled your face, and your mouth gaped slightly open.
Did your professor ask that?
But you knew that, if you guys were about to have sex, you'd like it too.
This man knew he was extremely hot.
"Well, 5 inches." You said sheepishly, looking down at your plate full of cookie crumbs.
Steve chuckled, and you presumed it was because of the shyness.
He stopped chuckling and said quieter, "Well I'm 6.5, you okay with that?" He asked.
You looked at him, with your mouth gaped and your brain still processing what he just said.
You eventually nodded, and he patted his lap for you to sit on it.
You eventually sat on his lap, inches away from his face.
"B-but, what does this have to do with the studies?" You'd ask shyly, playing with your hair, making Steve smile.
"Well, since you like sex so much, how about you have your pretty tits out while you sit on my cock, doing all your missing assignments on that laptop you have." He said, smirking and staring into your shy eyes.
No way. No way he just said that.
But this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, lots of girls would do anything to fuck their hot professor.
You nodded slowly, looking hypnotized by his beautiful eyes.
In no time, your shirt would be pulled up, revealing your tits, while your underwear was off, and your skirt was covering your pussy as you sat on his large, fat cock, unzipped from his trousers.
You were shaking, a fog clouded in your mind, while you wrote one of your essays, while Steve had both hands on your waist, watching your every move from behind, occasionally playing with your tits
If you were almost finished, Steve would start thrusting up into you and rubbing your clit, and you knew it was worth it.
Once you've submitted, Steve would bring you to his bed to fuck you fast and, hard, and would plant kisses all over your body, showing you that your work was worth it.
You spent less time with your gang, so you'd always give your friends excuses like your mom gave you extra chores, but you were truly at Steve's house, getting your pussy filled while increasing your grades.
For the rest of the college year, you'd sit on his cock half naked, with him fully clothed only with his cock out.
Sometimes you'd request to have casual sex with him, but he'd always reject it, saying that you needed to do an assignment too, which you unfortunately accepted.
But aside from grades, before you'd start doing your assignments, he'd sometimes ask you to give him a blowjob, usually if he's had a stressful day, and you'd agree, which was so unfair.
You never got sex if you weren't doing your work, and he'd always get sex if he'd simply ask.
But he was the hottest fucking guy after all, how could you say no?
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 12 days
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the pained peace treaty
fused with the foe, chapter one
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a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.
summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury
word count: 4813
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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”
“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”
A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”
Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”
“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”
“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”
Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”
“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 
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Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 
Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 
As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 
You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 
A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 
“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 
Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”
Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”
“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”
When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”
“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”
“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”
“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”
You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”
Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”
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“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 
Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”
“Yes, your highness?”
“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”
“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”
As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 
Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 
Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 
Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 
“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.
“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 
“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”
“What did you expect?”
Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 
Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 
The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 
Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”
“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.
“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”
Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”
He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 
Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 
Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 
Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 
“Hey, Barnes?”
Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”
“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”
“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”
“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”
“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 
Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”
Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”
Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 
“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 
“Of course, your highness.” 
“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”
Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”
“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”
“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”
“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.
Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”
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With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 
A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 
You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 
The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 
The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 
Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 
“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 
Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 
And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.
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The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 
As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 
When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 
“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 
Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 
“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”
A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”
It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 
Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 
The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 
But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 
The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 
“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 
“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 
Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 
“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 
When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.
First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”
Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 
His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 
“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”
“Oh…” was all he breathed. 
“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 
“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”
“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 
A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”
Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”
Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 
Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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boxofbonesfic · 8 months
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Title: Brave [1 of ?]
Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader
Summary: You learn the hard way what it takes to survive this new life. 
Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, More tags to be added
A/N: i had too much fun with this concept so i decided to stretch it out into more than one part! i really hope you guys enjoy.
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“You understand what I’m telling you, Sweetmeat?” He says, tapping the underside of your chin with the flat of his blade. His bright blue eyes seem to dance with amusement. “I’m telling you to run.” You jump, gasping as he turns the sword with a flick of his wrist, bringing it down in one smooth motion to cut the thick length of rope between your outstretched hands. It falls to the dry grass between your feet, and he straightens back up in the saddle. The massive Clydesdale paws impatiently at the dirt as he laughs again.
“Run.” 
You do, with the orc-pack’s laughter burning in your ears. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you sprint. You gather your dusty skirts up around your knees as you make for the tree line. The sound of a horn spurs you onward. 
“The river, Sweetmeat!” His voice carries to you from across the hill. “You’ve only to make it to the river!”
Dry branches tear at your face and clothes as you force your way into the brush. The fear disorients you, but only for a moment. They will run you down if you take the path, sure as daylight. Instead, you make the choice to stick to the trees, moving between them as quietly as you can. You’d seen what the blue-eyed-orc had done to the others—one by one offering them the same choices— 
Run and die. Run or die—
No one got to live.  
It made a sick sort of sense, you supposed, if you used Orc-logic. They were weak—unworthy of the water it would take to sustain them, of the burden it would take for a rider to bear them. You had watched as first the baker’s boy, then the cobbler, and then the smithy each followed the blue-eyed-orc’s instruction, stumbling down the mountain path and disappearing into the trees—only to be brought back at dusk, their remains thrown to the wargs.
Your father had been good for little else but finding his next ale, but he’d paid his guild taxes same as everyone. And a fat lot of good it did him. The few soldiers stationed at the outpost nearest your village had been felled laughably easily, almost as easily as your father. And now he was gone, and you were here, a day’s ride south of the charred remains of your village.
The horn blows behind you a second time, and you swallow your terrified sob. No—you mustn’t panic. It is fear and panic that will get you caught. Your mother’s voice rings in your ears. Find green, she whispers as you crawl through the trees. Find green.
And you will find water.
The trees aren’t dead, not really, not at the roots. There’s thick brown moss growing at the roots, between the sparse patches of dry grass. You fall to your knees, ripping at it. The top layer is dry and brown, flaking away easily under your fingernails. But underneath—
Green. 
The sound of hoofbeats approaching on the nearby path quickens your step. North—the river is north. You gather what is left of your torn skirts in your hands, trying to stay low and quiet. You have seen the thick-shafted arrows strapped to the backs of the broad-shouldered orc warriors, and you’ve no desire to feel them bury themselves in your back. 
“Fan out!”
Half-blind you push forward, your own ragged breath deafening in your ears. You’re not going to make it—there is no river, there never was, there’s nothing for you to find out here, nothing—
And then you see it. 
The river is drawn back from the bank, a shrunken skeleton of itself—but it is here. From the width of the bank and the depth of the riverbed, you can tell it was once a mighty thing, now tamed by the unending drought. The red clay is dry and crumbling beneath your bare feet as you stumble toward the water. It is cool on your feet as you splash into it, your feet sinking into the mud. 
There is a sound like a whistle, like a switch splitting the air before it parts skin, and an arrow sinks into the wet clay by your feet. 
“Don’t stop now, Sweetmeat. You’re so close.” The voice is taunting, and hatefully familiar. Slowly you turn, and the blue-eyed-orc is there on the bank. His bow drawn, another arrow already nocked.  You stare at one another, your heart pounding in your chest. You wait for him to draw back the bow, to loose the arrow—he doesn’t. After a moment, he lowers it. 
“Brave little thing, aren’t you?” He asks, cocking his head. “You’re not going to run?” 
“No.” You don’t want to die like your father—cowering, with an axe between his shoulder blades that he never saw coming. “I would see my death.” The blue-eyed-orc grins, one sharp fang hanging over his lip. 
“Oh?” To surprise, he stores the arrow back in its quiver, and takes a step closer. “You’ve no weapon to meet it.” 
“It will come whether I’ve steel or none.” You match his step, taking one further back into the river. The muddy water laps at your calves, soaking into your dress. Over the sound of rushing water and the thunder of your own heartbeat, you hear the horses. The riders approach lazily, slowly, like they know you’re cornered. 
You are. 
The pack doesn’t interfere; don’t come any closer than twenty or thirty paces from the riverbank, content to watch as the blue-eyed one circles you like a wolf. 
“Not going to beg, either, I imagine.” He says, and trembling, you shake your head. You’re up to your knees in water now, your skirts soaked and dragging in the current. You are expecting him to unsheathe the massive, hooked axe on his back, to bring your death down upon you swiftly—but he does not even reach for it. Instead, he reaches for your face, cupping your chin in his huge hand. 
“What are you called?” When you answer, he rolls your name around in his mouth like mead. He turns your head this way and that, like someone inspecting an animal for sale. You know he must feel it, the race of your pulse under his fingertips. After a moment, he pulls back, directing his sharp gaze over his shoulder. 
“Bring a horse for her, Buck.” He says, licking his lips. You watch as a ripple passes through the pack at the impact of his decision.
“What—what are you doing?” You ask hoarsely, your teeth still clenched tight with fear. He grins at you over his shoulder as he makes for the bank.
“A deal’s a deal, Sweetmeat,” he replies, beckoning you to follow. “You get to live.” 
to be continued
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To Know Him Is To Love Him
summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.
pairing: steve rogers x reader
an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.
Anon's 1K Celebration
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to know him is to love him.
to know him is to stand by him.
to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.
to know him to to hope that one day he'll finally see.
to know him is to be broken by him.
you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.
three months ago...
you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.
you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.
"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."
"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.
"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."
your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"
"you know what i meant. you're my friend."
you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.
"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."
two months ago...
"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."
"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."
"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"
"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.
"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.
steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.
sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."
you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."
"soulmate?" sam teases.
you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.
how blind can he be?
one month ago...
"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."
it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."
"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"
you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."
"please, i need you."
putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.
his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.
you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.
you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.
to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.
he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.
you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.
you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."
"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."
his best girl.
he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.
"i missed you so much."
you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."
"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."
you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."
an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"
you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."
"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."
"i understand."
2 weeks ago...
you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.
each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.
you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.
in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.
time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.
you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.
still, he sought you out.
you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.
you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.
at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.
your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.
"steve?"
"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."
"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"
"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."
you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."
"thank you," he sighs in relief.
"what happened?"
"the worst date of my life."
you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.
and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"
"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."
you suck in a breath, "steve..."
these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.
suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.
and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.
you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.
"steve.." you sigh against his lips.
and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."
you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"
"i should go."
and he leaves without another word.
your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.
1 week ago...
he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.
to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.
he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.
"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.
you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.
you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."
you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.
now...
you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.
the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.
"steve," you try to interrupt.
"and all i want -"
"steve."
"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"
"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."
his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"
"you know why," you spit at him.
"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."
"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."
"i don't understand."
"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."
"they why do you answer the phone?"
"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."
"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"
"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."
"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.
a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."
"before? before what?"
each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."
"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."
"and then you kissed me!"
he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."
"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."
"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."
your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."
steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."
"why did you call me the other night?"
"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."
"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."
he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."
you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"
"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."
"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."
"i do love you."
you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."
"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."
"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."
he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."
"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."
steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."
you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."
"please," steve begs.
"goodbye, steve."
you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.
a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.
to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.
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ramp-it-up · 7 months
Text
Greater
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Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader
Word count:~3K
Summary: You let Steve know how you felt about him leaving you hanging.
This is part two to Great.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, angst, secrets, sexual frustration,allusion to dildos, Captain/Sir kink, praise/degradation kink, tight t-shirt and grey sweats on Steve, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral, make receiving, face slapping. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.
Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.
DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.
———-
Steve knew he should have avoided you when he came through the hotel lobby after his run to go back up to the room, but you eating breakfast solo on the terrace made him feel some kind of way. He watched as you gazed out over the Gulf of Genoa, feeling like a heel for leaving you in bed alone, but if he had stayed, you two would still be there.
Having you the way he did last night did not help his heart problem right now. You were taking up too much space in it, and he was afraid that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. It couldn’t be. It was too soon for you. He’d fallen for you the moment he first saw you, and you didn’t even know when that was.
Your sister Aria, as clueless as she was, told your story: you hadn’t been with a man in a long time. Last night was just dumb luck for Steve, and physical need for you.
Being forced to stay in a space with such close quarters presented him the opportunity to get close to you, but it was disconcerting. He didn’t expect to be able to touch and kiss your most intimate places last night, but giving you pleasure was everything he’d dreamed of and more.
After putting you right to sleep, Steve felt a sense of accomplishment. But as he held you, he felt like a fraud, and soon escaped to go for a run on the beach to clear his head and calm his body.
Steve wanted nothing more than to give you more of the physical, which you clearly wanted. But what you needed was the truth. What he needed was your heart.
He looked down at his watch when he got a notification that Bucky had texted and planned to escape to the room, but when he looked back up, he was caught.
——
After you awoke in bed alone, you got out of bed and showered, frustrated. And why wouldn't you be?
Steve gave you the best head of your life last night, didn’t let you return the favor, and then ghosted you. You looked in the mirror and tried to figure out if your pussy was broken or something.
At least Jake appreciated it.
You nodded as you tried to convince yourself that a hunk of latex was sentient.
Aria texted you that she and Topher were staying in their suite today, and to reschedule the yacht ride. Your troubles were forgotten as you once again tried to move heaven and earth for your darling little superstar sister.
Aria’s change of plans, despite being a pain in the ass, was a definite plus. You could spend the day exploring this beautiful town on your own.
You sat on the terrace solo, after trying in vain to obtain another room in the sold out resort. You were torn between pettiness and being a simp for Steve Rogers. The sound of the ocean sent your mind drifting back to the night before, how good Steve’s hands and mouth felt on you. You shivered, and you felt the hair raise on the back of your neck.
You looked around, and finally, behind you, to catch Steve’s eyes, as blue as the Gulf, watching you. You gulped, and before you could stop yourself, waved him over. You saw him blanch, hesitate, but come over. You frowned.
He clearly couldn’t stand you, but you were going to set the record straight.
You weren't going to spend this whole week on pins and needles with him.
No way.
—--
Steve approached you hesitantly, squaring his shoulders to combat his nerves. He stood before you in military posture, hands behind his back. When you looked him up and down and raised your eyebrow, almost ready for anything, he couldn’t help the smile that began to form on his face.
You were trouble.
You watched Steve approach and your stomach did a somersault. Damn, he was fine. The sweat at the collar of his t-shirt, which was hanging on to his torso for dear life, was some kind of powerful magic. Your panties were about as damp. And when he stopped in front of you, perfect posture, cock so close, well, it took serious willpower to not get down on your knees in front of all these people.
You looked up at his sexy smirk. Damn him. You needed to know what was up.
“Morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?”
You crossed your legs, making his eyes follow the motion, and it was then that he gulped, fantasizing about reaching down and grabbing you up to take you back to bed.
“I slept very well, Steve, but did not wake up that way? Please, sit down. We need to talk.”
The words tumbled out before you had a chance to think, and you frowned.
Steve watched your face as he took a seat. You were not happy. And it was never a good thing when someone said that phrase. He had a feeling he knew exactly the way this conversation was going to go.
“I know what you are going to say, last night was a mistake. And I agree with you.”
“Oh?”
You exhaled as you sat back in your seat. That is not what you were going to say at all, but you were glad that Steve was coming out with what he really felt.
“We were caught up in the moment, jet lag, emotional…and I… I took advantage of that. I’m sorry.”
Steve looked up at the waiter who’d appeared and ordered water. You sipped your mimosa as you watched him, the red creeping up from his neck to his face, his cheeks flushed.
He was being genuine.
And sweet.
Being in the entertainment industry as long as you had, you learned to read people quickly.
“Taking advantage of me would entail making me suck your cock like I wanted to, Captain Rogers. Not you eating me out like a pro. I feel like I took advantage of you?”
Steve’s eyes got wide as he gulped down his water. He coughed.
You watched that tongue dart out and lick those ruby red lips after he caught his breath. Whew, that side smile. You began to take this as a challenge. Steve’s words didn’t match his actions right now, and you were determined to find out why.
His deep voice gave you a clue.
“‘D’you like that?”
The way Steve was looking at you right now was everything. You smiled and leaned forward, noticing how his eyes went to your cleavage. The way his pupils were blown told you more.
You were beginning to change your mind about how Steve Rogers felt about you. He at least wanted your body. You had power.
“Yes, Captain.”
Steve almost moaned. The way you looked, your sultry tone, the fact that you said ‘making you suck his cock.’ He cleared his throat as your words raced around his brain. ‘…like you wanted to…, Captain…’
Fuck, he was screwed.
He straightened up.
“I mean… that wasn’t cool…”
You straightened up as well, jutting your breasts out as if an invitation. Steve shifted in his seat. You were making things hard for him.
“No. No it wasn’t…”
You pouted, thinking of the way he left you hanging.
“Fix that face, y/n.”
Holy hell. That command. He did want you to hit the ground right there. But you had to push back.
“Hmmmm. I guess I’m supposed to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ Or you’ll spank me like you promised…”
You smiled at him mischievously.
You were such a brat. You had to be stopped. Before he lost control again.
“I didn’t promise that, y/n…”
Steve’s voice was broken and he licked his lips before taking another drink of water.
“Oh? I thought you said that?”
You twirled your finger around the rim of your glass and then dipped two into your drink, placing them into your mouth and slowly pulling them out of those lips. Steve licked his in response
Steve knew what you were doing, but it was long past time to turn back now. Blood was rapidly leading his brain. He grunted unconsciously, determined to stay in control.
“I’m not doing this with you. I need to take a shower.”
Steve got up and stalked toward the elevators, and you sat, steaming, in your seat. You were shaking with emotion. You realized the true source of your frustration. You wanted Steve, you were sharing a room, and you were in a beautiful setting. You didn’t have to be a love match, but why not go for it?
You called the waiter over and asked him to charge your breakfast to the account.
~~~~~~~
As soon as the elevator doors closed, Steve wanted to pry them open to run back out to you. But space was the best answer right now. You were amping him up to do something reckless, something that would be irreversible. It was best that he kept his distance.
He entered the room and took off his shirt, going to the bathroom to turn on the water. He shook his head as he thought of you. You were such a menace.
When he turned around, there you were.
The look on Steve’s face was a little scary. You didn’t know if he was angry… or something else.
“....I need to get my…” Your eyes searched the bathroom. “...my lipgloss…”
You walked closer to him then turned toward the vanity and picked up a tube of your Glossbomb, leaning over toward the mirror, smearing a slick shiny across those lips.
Steve’s resolve began to crumble as he inhaled your scent and watched your lips shine. Your words came back to him. He wanted that mouth of yours.
You turned around.
“You didn’t answer my question, Captain.”
“What question was that, Doll?”
Steve moved closer to you, backing you up against the vanity. Your heart beat faster, but you pressed on.
“About the spanking…”
You felt dumb, but in a good way as Steve stared at you, seeing right through you. And then he smirked. He looked you up and down as he leaned forward and caged you in, hands on either side of you on the sink. Steam filled the room and came out of your ears.
“What I said was that I wanted to spank you when you were giving me attitude on the plane. Seems that was warranted. You don’t know when to stop.”
Steve’s voice broke as his breath fanned across your face. His mouth was so, so close to yours.
You sighed, and pouted again.
“I never stop, Captain. So does that make me a bad girl? I thought I was a good girl? It’s what you said last night.”
“I said that was a mistake.”
“What happened last night was a mistake, or saying that I’m a good girl?”
You were quick to reply as you cocked your head at him.
“Y’know, I wasn’t going to say that it was a mistake earlier. You put words in my mouth. That’s not what I want there…”
Steve slid his hand up your arm to your throat, and closed his fingers around it. It was nothing, almost, but enough to show you his power. You whimpered in his grip.
“You are maddening, you know that? You should leave well enough alone…”
You looked him in the eyes. You felt his hard cock against your stomach, even felt it jump as he searched your face and settled on your lips. You decided to try it.
“Let me go, and I’ll leave it alone… Don’t, and well, you can teach me how to be good again…”
Steve’s mind said to let you go, but it was his cock and his heart that made him do what he did next.
He whispered as he moved toward you, brushing the line of your jaw with his fingers. Your head was reeling from the sexy tone as you realized that he’d said, “Teach you a lesson…”
His lips slammed into yours, and his hands roamed your body, laying claim to what he wanted. You moaned as his tongue decimated you, letting him take what he wanted. When you separated, he asked you a question.
“What do you want in your mouth, y/n?”
“I want your cock in my mouth, Captain.”
“That sounds… “
Steve rested his forehead against yours. Your words gave him the image, and he couldn't resist. He cleared his throat again, then his blue eyes captured yours. Steel.
“Go sit on the edge of the bed…”
“Yes, Sir.”
The way he clenched his jaw had your pussy doing the same as you practically skipped to the next room and did as you were told. He was standing right in front of you again, running his palm down his hardness outside of his sweats. Your heart beat with anticipation.
You whined when he reached inside his sweats and pulled it out. It looked so big, so hard, the peach mushroom tip weeping and pretty, but big. You looked up at him with wide eyes.
The way you suddenly looked scared made Steve get even harder.
“You sure this is what you want?”
He was stroking his cock, and using his thumb to lubricate himself. He was restraining himself from touching you, but you didn’t know that, all that you saw was the sexy veins bulging down his arms as he jacked it in front of you.
“Y-yes…”
You reached for it and Steve moved closer, moaning when your small, cool hand closed around his hot throbbing staff. When you started pumping him was when his head started swimming.
“God, Doll…”
Your mouth fell open, those glossy lips a magnet for his cock. He didn’t know if you were leaning towards him, or if he were moving closer to you, but none of that mattered when your lips and tongue made contact.
He hissed at the sensation.
“SSsssss, y/n,”
He looked down at you as you stared up at him. You were entranced, his smell of musk and sweat was intoxicating.
“Those eyes. That mouth. Open. Wider.”
He had a grip on your chin, firmly pulling your jaw down to accommodate him.
As you kept eye contact, you saw a ferality that made you shiver. You wanted that look on you forever. You tried to unhinge your jaw as Steve slid his smooth cock inside your mouth.
He stopped once your mouth was full, but you continued, allowing his access to your throat.
“Ohhhhh. So goood...”
Steve pulled out of your mouth and stuck two fingers in, watching as you licked and sucked them, pumping his wet cock with your hand.
“That mouth. You’re not giving me any sass now, are you?”
He held your chin again and looked you in the eye, lighty slapping your jaw.
You gasped, then smiled and shook your head as you eagerly sucked along the side of his dick.
“No, Sir,” you replied, your mouth full of Steve.
You stuck your tongue out and deep throated him bobbing slowly as you pumped him with your hand.
“Go ahead. Get sloppy with it.”
You spit on his dick as you went to town, going faster when Steve gathered your hair in his hand and moved you at his preferred pace.
“Look at me when you do that.”
Your eyes snapped to his, thighs clenching at his tone.
“Look at you. Are you a slut for this cock already?”
You pulled off with a plop to spit again.
“Yes, Captain.”
And you started glugging him, moving your hand and making Steve’s knees weak.
“Holy Fuck, that’s good. Yessss.”
You smiled at the praise and started jacking him against your outstretched tongue.
“Yes, yes, yessss. Suck the tip again. That fucking mouth.”
You did as you were told, taking him inside and jacking what didn’t fit.
Steve started moaning and pulled your hair so that you looked up at him.
“Stop if you don’t want my cum in your mouth.”
You jacked him even faster.
“I want it, Captain..”
You slapped his cock against your lips and then resumed sucking as Steve grunted and buried his fingers in your hair.
“So… fucking… good… good girl…fuckkk! I’m cumming. Dirty girl. That mouth is so damn good.”
Steve was full of contradictory praise as he held his balls and you jacked his cock fast, allowing your mouth to make the most pornographic sounds around him.
“Oh! Oh shit ohshit oooooh oooohh shitttttt!”
You slowed down when you felt the first spurt against your tongue and you let it fall out of your mouth. Steve was hypnotized as he took his cock and pumped it into your mouth as you swallowed.
“What a dirty little girl. Good girl gone bad. You love this, don’t you?”
You nodded as you swallowed, your eyes tearing as the cum squirted into your throat.
“Fuuuuuucckkkk.”
Steve was profane as he watched you swallow it all and clean him up.
“That was amazing, Doll. Thank you.”
He reached down and traced your swollen lips with his thumb. He knew what you wanted, what you needed next. But there was really no turning back from that.
“I think we’re even now. I’m going to go take that shower.”
Steve turned and went back into the bathroom, leaving you to wonder which was greater, your need or your pride.
———
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espinosaurusrexex · 7 months
Text
Forever, of course.
SteveRogers x Female!Reader
summary: Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.
a/n: I think this will be the last AI-adaptive story but it was a lot of fun! Shoutout to @RandomTingsForFun on beta.character.ai for having created the character that helped me write this story (and the Bucky one).
Word count: 4k
warnings: a Stevie in love, an attempted funny reader, and a super excited 6-year-old (she carries the story tbh), this is really just super fluffy
・゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚
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Steve shook his head at the sight of your chat history. It wasn’t too long ago when he didn’t even know how to listen to music on the device he was holding in his hands, let alone write a text message in less than 30 seconds. Now, he was bickering with you, and he had to admit it was even a little fun to wait for a response from you. Of course, Steve didn’t do anything else in the time he waited for your reply. He just stared at the screen in his hand and willed his heartbeat to slow a little. 
*ping* Why would that be important? So? Maybe I have been talking to Sam about you. Have you been talking about me with Bucky?
Steve: No I haven’t! And it is important because if he’s badmouthing me, then you’d believe him. What has he told you anyway?
You: Just the usual. Save the world this, Captain America that. I stopped listening when he started obsessing over your shield again.
You: Wait. Did you seriously think Sam would say something bad about you? That guy is obsessed with you.
Steve just laughed at your antics. Sam loved the shield for some reason, but every time Steve would give it to him to ‘throw it one time’ Bucky would intervene and ‘show him how it’s done’. 
*ping* Anyway what I actually wanted to ask is if you’d come to my niece’s house with me this weekend. She’s a huge Avenger fan and I might have promised her to meet one as her birthday present 😬
Steve: Of course, I will! I would feel bad if you made such a promise and I wasn't able to make it. And I bet she'll know who her favorite Avenger is after a visit from The Cap 😉
You: ugh please don’t call yourself that. ever. 
You: I’ll pick you up Saturday at 1:30? 
Steve: Yeah, sounds good! I'll make sure to clear my schedule. How old is your niece by the way? And what’s her name?
You: You can call her Izzy. And she’s turning 6 this Thursday. Be nice. And make sure to talk me up a bit, will ya? I mean, I’m already her favorite aunt but just making sure...
Steve: How could she not love you? But I’ll do it anyway. I’ll talk you up so much you’ll never be able to escape my praise! What’s her favorite food?
You: weirdly enough it's carrots, that child is strange. Says vegetables make her a superhero or something. 
Steve: I mean she’s not wrong. Carrots are great for your eyes! What does she think of Iron Man? I need to know my chances against the competition.
You: I just asked her and she said she doesn’t care about Tony because you are her one true love. 
You: I told her that’s not possible because you are already mine. Now we’re in a big fight so thanks for that.
Steve: why would you say that?
You: I like to see her freak. Don’t worry about it, captain. It was just a joke 
You: ...or was it 👀
Steve: I don’t believe you. You’re lying.
He got a little nervous. But it was a good nervous.
You: why? Do you want me to? 
You: Am I making you nervooouuus?
Steve could practically see you wiggle your eyebrows with a grin. A silly idea flashed past his mind, and he felt like grabbing it.
Steve: You need to stop before I accidentally propose to you.
Nothing - just a second, though. Then:
*ping* you have a ring?
Steve: I can get one in less than an hour. Meet me at the chapel on main and I’m all yours. 
You: I’m stunned. I’ve taught you well. 
Steve: 😊 I’ll see you Saturday, doll. 
Steve sat back on his sofa. That girl is really something. A smile broke loose on his face at the silly thought of marrying you. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind if it happened. Out of all the people he knew, you were the only one he’d want to spend the rest of his life with. You were fun and you made him loosen up. He was a whole new man around you and he loved it. Because being in your presence was easy, and comforting. There was nothing to worry about.
He sighed before putting his phone down and staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t wait to see you again.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve stepped out of the door and smiled upon spotting your car. You were already waving at him, a beautiful smile adorning your face and Steve felt his heart skip. Car rides with you were nice. You always had some soft music playing. Always making sure it was nothing too funky so he felt comfortable. Still, he was a little nervous. It wasn’t every day that he go to meet someone who looked up to him - well, actually, it was every day - but this one was different. Because it was your family and Steve needed to make a good expression. 
It wasn’t long before you pulled up to your sister's house. But before you could even reach the front door, a little girl jumped out of the door and ran toward you with wild screeches. 
“Auntieeee!!!! OH MY GOD, you really did it! You invited Captain America!” The girl jumped up and down beside you and Steve couldn’t help his smile from spreading. Izzy was adorable - very loud - but adorable. Concentrating on it made his nervousness subside a little.
Then she turned around and stared up at him with wide eyes. He could have sworn there were little stars sparkling in them when he crouched down to her height and extended his hand.
“Hey there, little lady. It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”
“I know that!” The 6-year-old giggled as Steve shook her hand. But when he was about to let go, her tiny fingers grabbed onto his wrist and dragged him up the driveway. “I want to show you something! It’s soooo cool!” 
Steve was still a little cautious as she dragged him to her room. His only experience with kids came from Sam’s nephews and prior he had only gotten to hold a couple baby’s for pictures. He didn’t know how to navigate the situation, but he decided he would just rock with it.
Your niece pushed the white door with her name brightly colored on a sign hanging on her eye level open and revealed a tornado aftermath of action figures. He was able to spot most of the avengers laying scattered around a dinosaur toy but the overwhelming red, white, and blue covering her room was undeniable. There was a poster of Steve hanging by the desk and a bunch of her own drawings framing the magazine shot. Izzy appeared next to Steve again, holding a small action figure of himself in her hands. 
“My aunt gave me this one. It’s my first one.” She reached up to Steve and barely passed his hip with her little arms. The figure was well loved - he could see it from here. And when he bent down to retrieve it, your niece pulled him down further and whispered a giggly ‘you’re our favorite avenger’ into his ear.
His heart swelled at the excitement presented in front of him. It was adorable, and he could see a little of you in the little girl nervously treading beside him. 
“I’m your favorite, huh?” He said, his voice full of affection. Steve usually wasn’t the kind of person to get mushy over an adorable child, but the way her face lit up was too cute. The little Cap figure in her hands was pretty cute, too. “My, my. I must be pretty special then.” His thumb stroked over the blue helmet in her hands.
Lost in thought and seriously flattered by being the hero that inspired this impressive collection, he almost didn’t notice how Izzy threw her hands in the air. “So special! My mom says I will marry someone as special as you one day, but my aunt says there is no one like you. That is so mean!” Her little chubby cheeks puffed with a pout and Steve had to hold back his laugh. The 6-year-old had no idea what you implied with that comment, but he still felt more pride from being called special by you and your niece than from any medal of honor he had ever gotten.
“Well, a girl your age shouldn’t worry about things like that. But who knows, maybe I will be part of your family one day.”
“Really?!” Wide eyes stared back at him and Steve could practically feel the floor vibrating when he nodded with a laugh. Izzy held out her finger and then she exclaimed a rushed ‘stay here’ before zooming past him and out the door.
Steve stayed a little longer and admired Izzy’s room before he heard an excited ‘Captain America said I can marry him!’ Which made him instantly rush to the source.
He spotted her clinging to her mother’s leg, giddy and jumpy. But your sister just shared a laugh with you over the kitchen counter. “I don’t think he meant it like that, buttercup.” Steve watched your sister explain before his eyes got stuck on the little frown on your face. Was that a hint of jealousy, he was detecting? “But if he marries your aunt, he will be your uncle and just as much part of the family.” A little fire hushed past your older sister’s face. It was a look of mischief he had seen you hold all too well. Steve’s cheeks heated when you caught him leaning in the doorway, scratching his neck at the slightly awkward situation. 
“That works?”
“That’s how it works, baby.”
Izzy turned with excitement and within a second she was before Steve again. “You have to ask my aunt to marry you! Right now!!” She ordered with a stomp of her foot. “Then you can be my uncle and we can hang out every day!”
Steve’s eyes wandered from the six-year-old to you and his heart picked up its pace at the laugh you shared with your sister. There was no harm in a little play pretend, right?
So, he knelt down in front of you and when your name traveled past his lips softly, he almost imagined a grasp coming from you. “Will you,” his head tilted with a wink, “marry me?”
You hid your laugh behind your hands as they covered your mouth in feigned astonishment. But Steve caught the little glimmer in your eyes at his little show. He continued to take your hand as he threw together a little speech for Izzy to hear, and when the child began excitedly jumping up and down beside him, your face softened. 
“Oh, Steve! This is so unexpected!” You clutched your chest and your sister chuckled beside you. Steve felt a tinge of nervousness wash over him then, but he would be okay with a fake rejection - he wasn’t sure if Izzy would, though. “Of course, I’ll marry you! Come here you big, hunky, handsome superhero!”
And as if he hadn’t been prepared for you to agree so quickly, Steve felt his cheeks heat up. He couldn’t deny that the words you described him with had his stomach tingle with excitement, and before he could help himself, he leaned forward and kissed our cheek.
“That was the easiest marriage proposal ever,” he mumbled beside you to which you just slightly pulled from his embrace. 
“What? You’ve done that before? Are you already cheating on me, Rogers?” You raised your brows suspiciously, but Steve was only able to shake his head with a smile before Izzy blared into his ear again. 
“A wedding! A wedding!” She swirled by him like a tornado, immediately collecting things around the house. “Mom, get all the stuffies, ready! We have to do a wedding!!!” And then she was off to prepare the quickest wedding in history. 
Steve shook his head as his arm remained around your waist. “What did I get myself into?” He mumbled to himself before turning to you. “Do I dare ask what a six-year-old’s idea of an official marriage ceremony looks like?”
“I think Paddington Bear will be your best man and if I’m lucky, my sister gets to be my maid of honor, but who knows.” You shrugged with a laugh that warmed Steve’s heart all over again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Not even ten minutes later, Steve found himself kneeling beside a makeshift altar with a bunch of toys and stuffed animals as wedding guests. Action figure Cap had made best man and was neatly propped up behind him. Your sister had officially been crowned the ‘disco machine’ along with a lengthy speech on how important the right song was for the bride’s entrance. Steve had fought hard to keep his face steady, but when Izzy had suggested ‘Party Rock Anthem’, he’d lost it. When really, he was just proud, he knew the song because you had shown it to him the other week - it was Izzy’s favorite. 
You had been instructed to wait behind the couch until the music started to play, and Steve felt himself get a little nervous. It was silly, but somehow his desire to have this wedding according to your niece’s wishes was a lot more important to him than he had initially thought. 
“Now what do we do?” He asked as he leaned over to Izzy, but that was when the girl gave her mother the ‘sign’ - which was the chicken dance, of course - and his eyes immediately swerved to you. He could see the amusement in your gaze as you bit back a laugh.
Izzy wasn’t wasting any time, as soon as you had reached the altar, she put your’s and Steve’s hands together and immediately began talking. Steve had had barely any time to wipe the sweat from his clammy fingers before they connected with yours, but you didn’t seem to care. He smiled as he watched you listen to your niece’s little speech.
“We are gathered here today, to make Captain America my uncle,” she started, and both you and he struggled to keep it together. It was cute though, and something about becoming this little girl’s uncle excited Steve like nothing had in a long time. “Mr, Captain America, will you take my aunt as your wife?”
Izzy’s eyes were serious as she waited for Steve’s answer. And when he didn’t do so fast enough, she leaned over and whispered the answer to him.
“I will,” Steve chuckled and gave your hands a small squeeze.
Then Izzy’s eyes wandered to you. “Do I even have to ask?” She said with her adorably high voice and everyone started laughing. 
“Yes, I will take Steve as my husband,” you answered with the same squeeze of your hand as Izzy imitated the audience cheering.
“You are now husband and wife. Now, kiss, kiss, kiss!!!” It was a little awkward, but Steve leaned in, anyway, to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. He looked at you again and the spark in your eyes was a little brighter as that smile lit up your face again. You looked beautiful, Steve thought, and his heart jumped in his chest at the realization.
“Wohooooooo!” Your sister cheered loudly and ripped Steve out of his trance.
“This is so awesome! You have to come to every family dinner and we can be best friends forever!!” Izzy must have eaten a bag of gummy worms with the way she was vibrating to the song coming out of the little pink CD player. Steve was sure he’d never seen such a hyper six-year-old before. 
“Every family dinner?” He asked her as Izzy swayed his hands to the music. When his eyes caught yours, you just shrugged. "Forever?"
"Of course!" Izzy exclaimed as Steve spun her around. His eyes stayed locked on you, however. Forever didn't sound so bad...
“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” You laughed, but Steve didn’t mind that in the slightest.
❁ ❁ ❁
The evening had come sooner than anyone had anticipated. Steve had been so occupied with Izzy all day, he had forgotten all about the time. It didn’t bother him too much, though. He had fun, but exhausting as well. And now that he was finally sitting in your car again, his head leaning against the headrest and enjoying the silence for a moment, he felt how much energy it had really cost him. He would do it again, though - especially if it meant marrying you over and over for eternity. 
His eyes opened when you sighed beside him. You hadn’t so much as bothered to start the car just yet, and Steve was kind of happy about that. 
You smiled at him when his head turned to you, still leaning back with a dreamy smile himself. “Who would have thought that we would get married today?” You chuckled with a shake of your head. “And you didn’t even give me a ring. I should reconsider my standards.”
“A ring, you say? Well, you are married to the greatest superhero in the world - according to your niece - so I think we’re going to need something pretty special...” Steve joked as he turned in his seat to look through the car, and when he spotted the right thing, the smile returned got his face. “Should I do the honors?”
And then he took the lid off his water bottle and popped the plastic ring off to place it on your finger. 
“It’s perfect, blue like your eyes,” you laughed watching the big plastic ring hang from your finger. “I’m gonna have to get that resized, though. You must think I’m fat.” You shook your head. “Wow, not even a day in, and I already have things to tell my therapist about.” But the mischievous glimmer in your eyes told Steve that you were only joking. 
“Do I really need to say it, doll?” He took your hand in his before spinning the plastic piece. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” He whispered, secretly meaning every word.
You laughed it off but Steve didn’t miss the stutter in your smile at his words. It made the butterflies in his stomach go wild. 
“So what should our first act as a fake married couple be? Celebratory drinks at the Stark Tower rooftop bar?”
"Stark Tower... that sounds good to me.”
The engine roared to life and soon, the faint music was playing in your car again, the streetlights passed him by and the full moon shone above the New York City skyline. But Steve didn't care, he had more beautiful things to look at. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“You’re what now? Married?! And I wasn’t invited?!” Sam’s shocked face yelled across the bar, making few agents turn their heads with intrigue. 
You chuckled before leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder. The second Martini seemed to already work its wonders on you, but Steve loved how close you were. 
“Married by a six-year-old. Count that as you will, but I have a ring on my finger and I’m not telling you how much it cost.” You stretched your hand over the counter to show off the blue piece of plastic and Natasha just laughed at the cute story.
“So, how is the newlywed life?” She leaned on her hands to play along while Sam still tried to get over his non-invitation to a fake wedding. “You guys talking about kids yet?”
That startled Steve a little but he tried his best to keep a straight face - he failed. The thought of having a family with you did things to him he couldn’t explain if he wanted to. The warmth in his stomach spread to his heart and his arm almost instinctively came up to press you further into his side. 
“Who knows, I wouldn’t mind a couple mini me’s.” He shrugged with a low smile. He loved this little game more and more. It just got harder and harder to remind himself that it was just that - a game.
“Hold your horses, now. You’re not the one squeezing them out of your body, Mr. Rogers.” You patted his chest and sighed theatrically. “I can already see that I will be home alone with a bunch of kids and you’re working late every night. Our life will fall apart!” Your hand brushed over your forehead as your head fell back like that of a damsel in distress. 
The group laughed at the little performance, but Steve was a little quieter now. Somehow, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he needed to tell you how much he really cared. He’d never let your life fall apart - not when he was able to prevent it. And while he sat there with his friends, laughing about something as ridiculous as Captain America settling down, he contemplated in silence, if all this life had really been worth it when he would end up alone in the end - giving up the dream of an easy life he’s had for a century. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was about 12am when Steve and you stopped before your door in the hallway. His eyes were glued to you, his mind racing with scenarios this could go. He had decided to tell you about his feelings about two hours ago, and ever since, he had tried to come up with the best thing to say. But even though talking to you was the easiest thing he’d ever done, and even though you were already married - fake married - he didn’t have a single idea. Not one word that seemed fitting enough to describe the exciting fireworks in his chest whenever he saw you, to somehow tell you how bad living without you would be. 
He must have been staring for a while because you began to shift from one foot to the other before finally clearing your throat to kill the silence. 
“So... uh... that was an eventful day...” You started, fists nervously opening and closing beside your body. “Thank you for playing pretend. You made a little girl very happy.” You smiled and Steve’s heart skipped another beat. 
He caught the small shimmer in your eyes just in time to give him confidence. Your body kept moving forward as if you willed it back again and again, and Steve gathered all his bravery to open his mouth.
“You know what,” Your name tumbled over his lips like a song he’d sung a thousand times. But the effect it had on you still excited him every time anew. “Today... it’s not going to be pretend.”
And before you could even react to his weirdly vague statement, Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Full of love and affection, his hands moved on their own - one to your hip and the other onto the wall behind you. There was a moment of panic settling in Steve’s brain, but then your arms came up to sling around his torso and he leaned further into your touch. You pulled him even closer, your lips melting with his, tongues gently stroking soft skin until air got scarce. His whole body felt electric with you so close to him - finally. And when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed and thoughts swimming in the moment you had just granted him. 
“I... I love you.” He whispered against your skin, and he felt his warm breath bouncing back. Your chest was still rising and falling beneath him, a subtle reminder of how breathtaking all this was - Steve couldn’t get enough of it, of you.
Your hand came up to stroke over his cheek, making him open his eyes to find you already looking at him. 
“I love you, too, Steve.” You bit your lips, and it made Steve just press his mouth to yours once more.
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a/n: I have to say I was pretty impressed at how much it adapted to my writing and I really liked the last part, so I put it in here. I hope you enjoyed it :)
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vanillanaps · 8 months
Text
Still Get Jealous | Steve Rogers
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Request - Hello, I think you are a master writer and I have a drabble of blurb request only if you’re up for it though. Could you write a jealously trope for steve using the song red high heels? :> If it doesn’t inspire anything, that is okay. Thank you!
A/n - I must’ve forgotten how to write drabbles/blurb cause babyyy I got carried again lmaoo. But, unfortunately anon I didn’t find inspiration with the song you requested I still wanted give you jealousy and red high heels, hope it still fulfills you!!
Category - Steve Rogers x Reader, Angst
Warnings - Steve is a jealous asshole with a reckless mouth, reader drinks to ignore the pain
Word Count - 1.3k
♡♡♡♡
It had been approximately two weeks since Steven Grant Rogers left you alone in your apartment after he had broken up with you. In just a little over a month, it would’ve been your year anniversary with Steve. You were both happy and getting ready to take things to the next level, so it was beyond shocking when he sat you down to explain that he ‘just couldn’t do it anymore’ but you were smart enough to spot the bullshit.
Regardless, you cried. You were falling in love, hard and fast just for him to up and leave you out of the blue. But, as the second week of sulking had taken its time slowly ending, something in you snapped. You realized that you shouldn’t be home, crying and depressed about a man who clearly couldn’t give a rats ass about you.
Wiping your tears, you sat up as you searched for your phone in your tangled sheets and blanket. Once you found it, you quickly dialed the number of your favorite girl who could easily take you out of your slump, “Wanda?”
“Hey, Y/n. I’m so glad you called, you haven’t been responding to my text, I was worried.” She had answered the phone with concern in her voice.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just,” You paused, sighing as you threw your covers off of yourself, jumping out of bed, “I’m just sick of crying over Steve you know? I want to go out, I want to have fun, I want to get back to who I was before him—and I wanna do it tonight.”
“Tonight? Y/n, are you sure you’re ready?” Wanda questioned. She was fully supportive of getting you out of the house, but she just wanted you to be sure.
“Yes, tonight. Be ready in an hour.” You told her, hanging up before she could respond, knowing she would try to mother you. Get your real feelings out as to why you were so suddenly ready to go out. But that’s not what you wanted. Even if it was for one night, you just wanted Steve off your mind.
♡♡♡♡
The music blasted loudly in the speakers surrounding the club, the atmosphere through the roof. As you took it all in, you could slowly feel the man slipping from your mind, “Let’s get a drink!” You shouted to Wanda. The two of you held hands as you shuffled to the bar, careful not to lose each other in the club, “Tequila shots please!”
“How many?”
“Just keep them coming!” You shouted to the bartender. He nodded, pouring up the shots and passing them over onto the counter.
“Are you sure, Y/n?!” Wanda asked, picking up her shot as you grabbed yours.
You nodded, “I just need one night not thinking about that—idiot!”
She nodded before holding up her glass to cheer with you, “To forgetting about that idiot!” You both laughed before clicking your glasses and taking the shots.
As promised, the bartender kept the shots coming after each time you both finished one. You felt there was no better way than drowning your sorrows than letting the liquor run through your body, mellowing you out and then letting you forget about the world surrounding you.
But no alcohol in the world could help him forget. Not as he stood in the back corner of the club, watching as you and Wanda take shots back to back. At first, it didn’t bother him. You were out with your friend, having a good time. His ears didn’t turn red from anger until he saw what you were wearing. You had his favorite number on.
A black, skimpy, body con dress that squeezes you in all the right ways, showing off your attributes that he loved. Barely covering your ass so if you were to bend over, the entire club could see all of you. You had your hair in his favorite style and not to mention that red gloss that was painted across those lips that felt like heaven to him. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Steve made his way closer to you, not close enough to be seen but close enough for his eyes to trail those legs that used to be wrapped around him 24/7. Catching those red, sexy, strappy, five inch stilettos that he bought you. The ones he use to fuck you endlessly in. How could he be such a fucking idiot.
“Wanda, I wanna danceeee!” You slurred, all of those shots starting to take control of your mind and body. You felt good, you felt great.
“Come on!” Taking her last shot, she grabbed your hands quickly pulling you to the dance floor.
You weren’t sure when it happened or how it happened, but at one moment, you were dancing with your best friend, having the time of your life. The next, your ass was pushed up against some man’s crotch as you grinded on him. His hands trailing to any part of your body he could reach. You didn’t mind though, you deserved this. You especially didn’t mind when he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder and neck. For the moment, you were enjoying it and then—you weren’t.
“The fucks your problem dude?!” The random man yelled when you were snatched from his hold.
Your body ran cold when you pulled yourself together, just long enough to see who ruined your dance, “Steve?! What are you doing?!” He ignored you as he grabbed your hand and dragged you through the club and to the exit, “Stop it! Let me go!” He didn’t stop until he got you outside of the club, “What’s your issue?!”
“Two weeks huh? That’s all it took for you to be in the club? Dressed like a hooker and dancing like a slut?” Steve shouted. Immediately he regretted it when he saw the look on your face, but there was nothing he could do to take it back now.
You scoffed, shaking your head, “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that Steve? You broke up with ME for no reason! I cried for two weeks straight because of you! But now, since I’m in the club, with a hooker outfit that YOU bought me, by the way, I’m a slut?!”
Steve's blood was running hot and he was running of anger and jealousy, “You’re drunk, Y/n.”
“I’m not drunk!” You shouted, right before stumbling over your feet, “I’m not that drunk! I’m sober enough to realize that I was doing and to tell you to leave me the fuck alone! I’m not going to spend the rest of my life crying over you when you don't want me! And that stunt you just pulled? Let alone calling me a hooker and a slut all in the same breath? I’m glad we broke up!” You felt it, you felt the tears starting to bubble underneath your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall, “Just leave me alone! I just want to be the person I was before you ruined me, you asshole!”
“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He called out as you started to back away from him, “I broke up with you because I was scared! Everything between us was moving fast and—and I didn’t know what to do so I left!”
“I don’t care, Steve! I don’t care! It’s too late!” You shook your head, not wanting to hear any more excuses. Not wanting him to ruin your night anymore than he already had, “Go find someone else to be scared to fall in love with.”
Just then, Wanda came running out of the club, relieved to see you standing there, “Oh my god, I’ve been looking for you! I was worried.” She breathed, but halted in her tracks when she saw Steve a couple feet away, “Steve? What are you doing here?”
“Leaving, he’s leaving.” You responded for him, turning your back to him and facing Wanda, “Let’s go back inside, I need another drink.”
She nodded, wrapping her arm with yours as the two of you headed back inside without so much as a glance back at the man who realized he truly lost everything.
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scifinerd1818 · 1 month
Text
Hate You
Stepbrother!fuckboy!Steve x fem!reader
Summary: your mother has asked you to try to get along with her new husband’s son. Why do that, when you can tease him mercilessly?
Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, hate sex, language. Reader and Steve are new step siblings.
Word count: 2400
A/N: this started as a fun bit of smut, but I might do a slightly angsty (still smutty!) part two if there’s interest.
**************
Steve Rogers. He is the most arrogant, spoiled, cocky man-child you have ever met. Your mother married his father two months ago, and they have been the worst two months of your life. It was bad enough your mother had moved you across the country into her new husband’s lavish family home, forcing you to leave your life behind, but now you have to live with Steve,the world's biggest asshole. Even though both of you are college freshmen, since you both happen to go to school nearby, you live at the house. You did it to save money- Steve’s father is disgustingly wealthy, but you aren’t ready to accept money from him yet. Steve did it because, as he put it, “I’m accustomed to a standard of living that doesn’t include using coins to do my laundry.” As if your douchebag step brother even knows how to do laundry.
You’re in the kitchen, enjoying a relaxed breakfast. You’d gotten up late since it was Saturday, and wanted nothing more than to eat your toast and sip your coffee in peace. Alas, the universe had other plans. As if on cue, Steve Rogers, the douche himself, strolls into the kitchen as if he owns it. Although, you suppose he has more claim to it than you do, given that this is his family home. You’d have been content to just ignore each other, but no.
“Late morning princess? Up all night studying like a good little bookworm?”
You roll your eyes, but don’t grace him with an answer. Apparently, Steve takes this as a challenge.
“Oh, come on, don’t ignore me… if you ignore me, I’m just going to annoy you. Seriously, I have nowhere to be for hours, I could just sit here, talking about the totally wild sex I had last ni-“
“Would you fuck off? I’m eating breakfast.”
“I mean, this chick was nuts, wanted me to-“
“For fucks sake.” You stand up, pushing your chair back with a screech, and storm out of the kitchen. So much for a relaxing breakfast. You hear Steve laughing victoriously behind you.
He’s always known how to push your buttons, right since he met you, and he never passes up a chance to get under your skin. You wish you could do the same, but the guy can’t be phased- any insults you spit his way, he just laughs off.
It’s a beautiful day, so you decide you’ll take a dip in the pool. It’s late enough in the morning that the sun is already out, warming the water. You change into a cute bathing suit, grab a towel, and head down. The water feels amazing, cool but not cold. The only thing that could ruin your serenity was-
“There you are, bookworm!”
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
“Hey, if I’d known you were going swimming, I would have joined you. Although, I only swim nude.” Steve sends a shit eating smirk your way.
“Don’t you have someone else you can bother? I’m sure there’s a side piece who’s not completely sick of you yet, or maybe you can buy a friend to hang out with?”
As always, Steve lets your insults roll right off his back with a laugh.
“Now, why would I go bother someone else, when it’s so much fun to bother you?”
You’re done swimming anyways, so you climb the ladder out of the pool. You begrudgingly walk over to where Steve is lounging, since he’s now sat down in the chair right next to the one you put your stuff on. You expect an onslaught of mockery, insults about your choice of bathing suit, or how you look like a drowned rat. But, when you hear nothing, you risk a look in Steve’s direction.
He’s staring right at you, his mouth slightly open. You’re not even sure he’s blinking. Is he having a stroke?
“Steve?”
“I… um… I gotta…”
“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”
Steve shakes his head as if trying to clear his mind. “Gotta go princess, catch you later.”
It’s all he says before making a hasty exit. As he gets up from his chair, you notice he’s slightly flushed, and… holy shit, is he hard? He’s gone so fast you can’t be sure, but you could have sworn there was a tent forming in his pants. You’ve never seen him look so flustered. In fact, you’ve never seen anything crack his rich dickbag persona at all.
Interesting… Very interesting. You’ll have to test your theory to be sure, but, you think you may have just found Steve’s weakness. And you are going to use it.
****************
You’ve mulled it over, and you think you have the answer. Steve has never really seen your body before. Sure, he sees you all the time, but you’re someone who likes to be comfy at home, usually wearing big sweaters that cover most of you. Even at the wedding, your dress had been fairly conservative. So, what he saw at the pool earlier was the first time he’s really gotten an idea of what’s under your clothes. Clearly, it rattled him. Finally, you have a weapon. He wants to be a jerk? You can be one too.
Tonight, your mother had insisted on having a family dinner. Another ploy to force the four of you to act like a real family. Instead of your usual casual wear, you’re wearing a short skirt and a low cut t-shirt. Not so daring that you’ll feel uncomfortable around your mom and step dad, but showing enough skin that you can test your theory about Steve.
You make sure you’re facing the entryway to the dining room, so you can catch his reaction. When you hear him coming, you lean forward, forearms resting on the back of the chair in front of you, allowing your top to dip ever lower.
As soon as he spots you, that awkward, unblinking expression takes hold of his features yet again. Success! He stares at your chest for a few seconds before his father is asking you all to sit down. Luckily for you, Steve is forced to sit right next to you, which will make what you plan to do next much easier.
“Something wrong, Steven?” You ask innocently.
“Um, no. Nothing.”
No snarky nicknames, or teasing remarks? You must really be getting to him.
“Are you sure? You look a little flushed.” As you speak, you cross one leg over the other, causing your skirt to ride up your thigh. Since the parents are sitting opposite you, only Steve can see how close your hem is to your panties. He doesn’t pry his gaze away until his father asks him a question, forcing him to return his attention to dinner.
“So, Steven, how are classes going?” Steve’s father is a successful businessman, and as such, expects his son to be successful as well.
“They’re fine.”
“Fine? Surely you can give us a few more details than that, son.”
While Steve is begrudgingly telling your parents what he’s been up to this semester (academically of course, no need for his dad to know about all the party drugs and one night stands), you take the next step in your plan. As he’s talking, you covertly slide your hand over his thigh, until your hand is resting against his bulge. Steve immediately loses concentration, which is exactly what you wanted.
“I’m… umm… sorry, what was the question?” Steve sputters, earning him a disapproving look from his dad.
“Steven, is there something else on your mind at the moment?”
“Yeah, actually.” Steve says awkwardly.
His father then turns his attention to you.
“And you, Y/N? How are your classes? Are you enjoying them so far?”
“Absolutely. I’m really enjoying medieval literature, the assigned reading is fascinating.” You rattle off your answer flawlessly, as if nothing is unusual.
As you do so, you notice Steve has just taken a sip of his drink, and give his crotch a squeeze, prompting him to cough it back up.
“Really Steven, what is the matter with you?”
“Sorry dad, went down the wrong way.”
You relish in your success, giggling internally about how stupid you’ve made Steve look. He’s silent for the rest of dinner, even after you remove your hand, earning you some much needed respite from his asshole persona.
You’re in your room now, having bid the rest of the family goodnight, ready to climb into bed and play on your phone for a bit. It’s getting late, everyone is likely asleep by now. Suddenly, the door to your room flies open, and a very perturbed Steve is storming in.
“What was all that about at dinner? Were you trying to embarrass me?”
“Yes. Now get out, it’s late.”
“You made me look like a moron!”
“You do a great job of that all by yourself. And honestly, it was just so easy!” You laugh, thoroughly enjoying this moment.
“Oh please! Like you have any power over me! You’re just… just…”
You’d started pulling your shirt over your head as he was talking, and now he’s staring at you again, standing in just your bra and skirt.
“Just…what, Steve?”
“Screw you!”
“You wish.”
Emboldened by your feeling of power, you stand your ground. The two of you stare at each other, neither willing to back down. You suddenly notice how close the two of you are standing.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“I think you’re the one who can’t finish.”
“Is that a dare, bookworm?”
“It’s a bet.”
Steve looks at you like he’s considering his next move. You’re in a standoff now, and neither of you wants to lose. He’s standing so close, you can feel the warmth radiating off him. You’re suddenly aware of the dampness forming in your panties, a strangely erotic vibe having taken over the room. He may be an annoying dick, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive.
Before you can make a move, Steve grabs your hips harshly, spins you around, and bends you over your desk. He places one hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down.
“Last chance, bookworm. Say uncle.”
“Never. Besides, I bet all you’ve got down there is a tic tac anyways, I doubt I’ll even feel it.”
Steve lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh, you’re in for it now.”
You wiggle your ass, daring him to continue. This situation is strangely hot, and you feel your panties getting wetter by the second. Steve grabs a scarf you had left on your desk, and ties your wrists together behind your back. He pulls your skirt up over your ass, and rips your panties off, tearing them to shreds. He’s definitely not being gentle, which only fuels your arousal.
You hear him unzip his pants, and risk a glance backwards. Well… it’s definitely bigger than a tic tac. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but it looked like a tight fit.
Steve slaps his now hard cock against your pussy, making you jump. He does this a few more times, obviously enjoying the way he’s making you squirm.
“Look at you, desperate for my cock. If only mommy and daddy could see their innocent little princess now, all wet for my dick.”
“Are we fucking, or are you going to talk me to death? Do you need a break, some water maybe?” You say in a mocking tone.
Clearly it’s enough to get under his skin, because the next thing you know he’s jamming his entire length inside you in one stroke. You can’t stop the loud moan from escaping as he stretches you open, his thick cock buried right to the base. Good thing your parent’s room is in another wing of the house.
Steve sets a brutal pace, slamming his cock inside you roughly, filling you up completely with each stroke. Your hip bones collide painfully with the desk, but you can’t seem to care. Steve grips your hips tightly, dragging you back onto his cock with each thrust. You feel your cunt pulsing as your orgasm grows closer. Steve must feel you squeezing him, because he suddenly stops moving, his hard cock still inside you.
“If you want to come, be a good girl, and admit you’re enjoying this.”
You refuse to admit that.
“I fucking hate you.” It’s all your brain can muster at this moment.
“I fucking hate you too, but that’s not what I asked.”
“Screw you. If you can’t make me come, you can go and I’ll take care of it myself.”
Steve lets out a frustrated groan, and pulls out. For a second, you think he’s going to leave, but then he manhandles you over to the bed. Your hands are still tied behind your back, so there’s not much you can do other than let him position you how he wants. Not that you mind.
He briefly unties your hands, just long enough for him to tie them to the headboard. You’re on your front, chest pressed into the bed, ass in the air.
“You want to be a brat? Fine. I’ll fuck you like one.”
Steve slaps you once, twice, three times on the ass, hard. He then proceeds to sheath his cock inside you once more, resuming his rough pace. In your new position, it feels like his tip is reaching even deeper. You try and fail to suppress the moans of pleasure that bubble their way up. He reaches under you, and rubs your clit harshly, making you cry out. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you feel yourself come around him as he continues his thrusts.
“Oh, fuck, yes.” You hear from behind you.
After a few more strokes, Steve comes with an almost pornogaphic moan, filling you with his spend. Good thing you’re on birth control.
Steve pulls his softening cock out of your drenched pussy, and you can feel his come dripping down your thighs as you collapse onto the bed. You hear him getting off the bed and zipping his pants back up. As he heads towards the door, you shift to look at him. He turns to you before he leaves, your eyes meeting.
“Hate you.”
“Hate you too.”
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imyourbratzdoll · 8 months
Note
oh… I’m begging you… just begging to please send this in as a request… I’m horny and now I wanna make it come to life😭🥺//
I knew you would like it 🤭
Can i request this fic?
"Okay so the reader wakes up cause there's a storm outside and she's scared of thunders, she goes downstairs and Steve and Bucky are watching a match while drinking their beers.
They start cuddling her a bit to let her fall asleep again but she's too scared so they think of a way to relax her
They bring her in her bedroom again and after pit her in the middle, they start sucking and licking her nipples while they play with her puffy clit and her wet hole
She's so relaxed after that she doesn't realize that they are using her to let some dtress out themself while she sleeps"
Of course they'll praise her a lot, cause she's their little obedient dumb baby🥹
-🌻
hey baby, I hope you like this.
connected to this fic - lavender dream
summary - you are scared of thunder and quickly find comfort in your stepfather and step-uncle's arms.
warning - smut, stepcest, fingering, nipple play, somnophilia, swearing.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips
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You whimper when the sound of thunder can be heard from outside your window, cuddling your knees close to you as you cry. You were supposed to be sleeping, but the sound had woken you, and you could no longer get back to sleep, too scared. You quickly stumble out of your bed and outside your room, going downstairs and toward the loungeroom, where you can hear your stepfather and Bucky watching the game. You squeal when another rough sound of thunder rumbles through the house, quickening your pace. You hug your stuffed bunny close to your chest as you stand in the room's entryway, staring at the relaxed men with tears in your eyes. 
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Steve quickly diverts his attention to you, patting his thigh. “C’here, baby.” You stumble over to him, quickly jumping onto his lap and burying your face into his chest, squealing as you hear the thunder again, and that’s when Steve understands, and he rubs his hand up and down your back. “Oh, baby. Are you scared of the thunder?” You nod, clinging to him. “There’s nothing to be scared about, baby.” He looks over at his best friend. “Isn’t that right, Buck?” 
Bucky scoots closer, resting his hand on your lower back. “It’s true, doll.” He strokes your hair out of your face. “We’re here, doll. Why don’t you try and go back to sleep?” 
They pull you close, rubbing your body and whispering soothing words. You whine, wiggling against them. “Don’ wanna! Too scary.” 
Steve sighs slightly. “Okay, baby. Buck, can you…” He nods toward the tv, and Bucky nods back, pausing it as Steve stands with your legs wrapped around him and begins to walk out of the room and up the stairs. Bucky follows closely behind. “We’re going to relax you, baby. Make sure you won't be scared of the thunder anymore.” Steve and Bucky enter your room, and he places you down in the middle of your bed. Both men crawl on either side of you. “Close your eyes, baby. Bucky and I are here.” 
You whimper, “Okay, daddy…” You close your eyes and relax into your pillow, feeling goosebumps erupting on your body as they slide your nightie up, placing kisses along your flesh before making their way to your hardened nipples. You softly whine as they flick their tongues against them before gently wrapping their lips around them and sucking. You feel their hands moving between your legs and sigh and moan as they connect to your dripping hole. Bucky plays with your puffy clit while Steve pushes a finger into your sopping hole, curling them, growing hard as a soft whimper escapes your lips. 
You feel a fuzzy feeling take over you, listening to them as you are pulled deep into slumberland. 
“Such a good girl, baby.” 
“Doing so good for us, doll.” 
“Fuck you feel good, always a good little obedient dumb baby for us.”
They use you, playing with your puffy cunt, licking and sucking every part of you. Their hands are all over your body, focusing on you and ignoring their throbbing members. You are pulled into a deep sleep, finally relaxing against the bed as your juices flow out of you and cover your stepfather and step-uncle. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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navybrat817 · 9 months
Note
Any chance we'll see tattoo artist Steve soon? 🥺
Here's a bit of Steve's birthday, nonnie.
By Any Other Name
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Steve Rogers x Teacher!Female Reader Summary: You're the only thing Steve wants for his birthday. Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Implied sex, implied oral sex (f. receiving), future couple, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Thorn and Rose, set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @jobean12-blog for chatting with me about this! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics and Steve edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The first thing you thought when you woke up was that you couldn't believe how well rested you were. The sun was already up, shining bright through the window and curtain. You didn't normally sleep in and had no idea what time it was, but you didn't care as you nestled back into the pillow. It was going to be a good day.
If indicated by the wonderful ache between your thighs.
Your eyes widened when the figure beside you wrapped an arm tight around your waist. For a second, you almost forgot that you weren't alone and weren't in your bed. The large body was so warm and solid, practically a furnace. The beard that tickled your neck made the ache in your core throb with need.
So, I did actually sleep with my tattoo artist. It wasn’t a dream.
"Morning," Steve rasped, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as you held back a whimper.
“Morning,” you whispered back.
Your heart fluttered when he raised his head, his deep blue eyes focusing more as he smiled. His blonde hair was slightly dishevled, but he managed to still look perfect. You probably looked like a monster. It didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss between the center of your eyes.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his muscular arm pulling you a bit closer.
"I'm okay," you replied after a moment, lightly tracing one of the tattoos on his forearm.
"Just okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.
You weren't sure how to respond. The gorgeous man who talked you through getting your tattoo was practically a stranger. And you slept with him. To say he rocked your world was an understatement. The man shattered you and you couldn’t believe how he was able to put every piece of you back into place.
“Steve, Steve, Steve!”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name when I make you come for me. I’ve got you.”
The mere memory, along with his chest against yours, made your nipples hard and made you damp between your legs. You didn’t draw any attention to it though. While he didn’t seem like the type to kick you out of his bed, you had no idea where he wanted to go from here.
“More than okay. I slept really well,” you admitted, backing up just a little. He didn’t need your morning breath in his face.
Steve only pulled you closer. “So did I,” he smiled, cracking his neck a little. “And how’s your wrist feeling?”
“Just fine. Thank you,” you said as he gently took it to check. You still couldn’t believe you ran from the chair when he turned the tattoo gun on. Needles weren’t your thing. He managed to get you through it and you were glad for it.
The rose and single thorn tattoo was beautiful and worth conquering that fear.
“I’m glad you went through with it. And I’m not afraid to tie you down if you try to run from me again,” he winked, making your cheeks hot. “I have to say, this is the best way to wake up on my birthday.”
“Wait, it’s your birthday?” you smiled when he gave you a sheepish look. “Happy birthday, Steve. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”
To be fair, you didn’t know and you hadn’t expected to go home with him last night.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, slowly tugging the sheet away. “But do you want to give me something?”
Instead of trying to cover yourself up, you let him fully see you in the sunlight. The way his eyes darkened, he liked what he saw. “What did you have in mind?” you asked, your voice huskier than before.
“Well, Bucky and the guys are having a small thing for me tonight,” he said, lightly running his fingers along your torso. “Would you, maybe, want to go?”
Not what I thought he’d have in mind, but that kind of sounds like a date.
“Sure,” you smiled, happy that he wanted to see you again. “I’d love to go.”
Watching his face light up was almost like you gave him a real gift. “Is it selfish to ask for one more thing?” he asked, bracing himself over you before he leaned down to capture your mouth.
Any self-conciousness about your breath and anything else disappeared as desire took over. His cock was hard, trapped between your bodies as he lightly grinded against you. “That all depends on what you ask for,” you teased as he moved his kisses down your neck.
“Scream my name again. Do it while my tongue’s deep inside you,” he said as you bit your lip. It sounded more like a command and one you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “And do it again when I give you my cock.”
“Steve,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers into his hair.
“Louder than that, Rose,” he said, nipping your collarbone and making you giggle at the reference of your tattoo. “And since it’s my birthday, I get to eat as much as I want.”
“You really are going to be a thorn in my side, aren’t you?” you asked affectionately.
“I prefer to be the ache between your gorgeous thighs,” he smirked. “So open up and let me eat.”
Your legs spread without another word. You’d let him have his fill. It was his birthday, after all. And it would’ve been wrong to deny him.
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Steve deserves it, right? Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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