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#steve rogers series
thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 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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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.
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
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⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾
「 ✦ Steve Rogers ✦ 」
╰┈➤ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve rogers stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!)
╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮
: ̗̀➛ code blue by @bonky-n-steeb
✮ Steve is angry on you for behaving recklessly and you decide to let him take his anger out on you in a very unprofessional way...
: ̗̀➛ oh captain my captain by @starryevermore
✮chris knows how much you enjoy captain america, so he makes sure you live out all of your fantasies. (chris evans pretending to be steve rogers)
: ̗̀➛ it’s you that i lie with by @lipstickbisous
✮pt 1- steve rogers realizes that his love for you is unparalleled, but when he chooses to return to you by the lake, he receives a certain visit from the time variance authority
: ̗̀➛ mr. perfectly fine by @sparkleofpizza
✮Hello, Mr. perfectly fine, how’s your heart after breaking mine?” - Taylor Swift (Mr. Perfectly Fine)
: ̗̀➛ @espinosaurusrexex
☾ forever, of course
✮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.
☾ watchful eyes
✮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.
: ̗̀➛ something new by @buckyownsmylife
✮The one where Steve moved onto another woman’s arms after the blip, but now that you’re back…
: ̗̀➛ back to you by @literaryavenger
✮You've always been there for Steve, and now you're watching him go back to the girl he always wanted.
: ̗̀➛ hideout by @ronearoundblindly
✮Grant, a guest at your middle-of-nowhere motel, has needs not covered by the usual turn-down service.
: ̗̀➛ he’s just not into you by @sergeantbarnessdoll
✮Steve isn’t into Sharon, but he’s in Y/N.
•masterlist
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
last updated march 17, 2024
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ronearoundblindly · 27 days
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Hideout (2)
touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader
Sweet Baby (see previous or series)
Summary: 'Grant' becomes comfortable enough to tell you who he is, and you get comfortable enough to show him the kindness he deserves.
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Warnings for description of minor blood/injury and light smut (mentions of morning wood, dry humping, hair pulling, praise kink? maybe coached orgasm?). This series is 18+ only. MINORS DNI. There is plenty else for you youngins to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2.6k
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Warmer months are for updating the rooms, so they are on a rotation of renovation. There are really busy times and really slow times based on events in town, but there’s an understanding with Grant’s ‘party’ of friends that, if needed, they can stay in the room closed for repair. It’s not as if any room is uninhabitable when they need a coat of paint and some plumbing tune-ups.
Clark doesn’t remember you told him about this—you used the excuse that Grant ’s company are handymen (and women) who come in between other jobs,—so the front desk kid calls you while you’re out running errands one day.
Two ‘dudes’ want to stay in room eight on the end. So? Let them. Those are the people who fix things. Clark just says “kay.”
When you pull into the lot hours later, you don’t expect to find Grant sitting on the curb, filthy and exhausted in some gym clothes, a plastic bag set at his feet.
“Wha’ch’a waiting for?” you call with the window down, hoping his spirits can lift easily.
Grant peers up at you through long lashes. He’s had a knock-down drag-out with a field of bramble…or something. That’s when you notice dark, dried blood in the grime stuck to him, and he lets out a long sigh.
“Sa—Tom used all the hot water,” he huffs, “so I’m biding my time.”
Their room’s water tank, the one due for maintenance, is going to take an eternity to reheat, and it’s the worst luck that there really are no other rooms available.
“Hop on in. You can use the bath up at the house.”
He looks just as startled as you by the invitation, but in no simple terms can you express how bad it is to have a huge guy covered in blood hanging out in front of your rural motel. That’s horror movie bait.
You know Grant. You trust him. All he needs is to clean himself up.
He checks behind him again. The same mix of seeking approval or seeking the cover of ignorance returns to his pretty features, and he trots over to the passenger seat of the car, plastic bag in hand.
He helps you bring in the groceries and supplies from town even though you point him in the direction of the upstairs bathroom immediately. There’s a big jacuzzi tub in there, and he is welcome to soak for however long he wants. You’ll even wash his clothes in the mean time, if he’d like.
Grant seems hesitant to accept or argue.
You press on.
Showing him where everything is in the bathroom takes a minute. You fish around a cupboard for the muscle-relaxing milk additive, explaining it may help him…if needed. You don’t know what’s happened, so you’re flying blind for options.
When the tap turns off ten minutes later, silence descends, but he never handed you stuff to wash. You knock and try the door, just to crack it open so he can hear you.
First, you notice the color of the water. He used the milk bath alright, but whatever washed immediately off him has saturated and soured the clean white into a rusty tan. Second, you pick up the pile of clothes and find more in the plastic bag, except…it’s a suit with a star decal half-ripped and dangling from the chest. Third, you realize you can’t see him in the water at all, not his feet, not his head, no bubbles, so you rush in and shove your hands beneath the surface.
He shoots up in alarm, gasping and sloshing to a different wide, rounded corner of porcelain.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you shriek, hands out and spread wide. “I just thought—I don’t know—I didn’t know if you’d—sorry!”
He rubs his hands down his face and over his dripping hair. He doesn’t even speak; he just waves for you to stop apologizing and clears water shot up his nose.
You have to collapse to the fuzzy rug and hold your heart before it beats right out of your ribcage. You still repeat “sorry” a few more times and then manage an impressed “wow, you kept all the water in.”
He thunks his head back to the lip of the tub and props up one leg, his knee cresting the surface. “I have a talent…”
The dirt, despite how much clearly came off already, is smeared grossly across him.
He looks so tired.
“May I—“ you grab the shampoo bottle all the way at his feet “—help?”
Defeated in more ways than one, he nods through the same concerned and confused gaze that’s become his signature. He maneuvers nearer you while you carefully wet your hands, starting a lather. His head stays down, spine exposed, as you massage at the base of his skull.
His eyes shut.
Your heart now swells with accomplishment; you gave this man a moment of peace.
Fingers gliding over the sinewy, tight bands beneath soft hairs, you press circles around and around his scalp. He cranes backwards while you move up and over the crown of his head, and by just above his ears, he’s laying his full weight in the water, lax against the rim.
You keep going long after his hair is strictly clean, though you’ll recommend he rinse after soaking because the water is too foul to count on.
He remains quiet, so you dip your hands in the water at his shoulders, shake them about, and move on to scrubbing his face clean, too, working down from the hairline and over his beard.
Somewhere around his throat, the man sniffs.
He sniffs again, raising a hand from the water to stop yours.
“My name isn’t…” His eyes open finally, only to stare blankly at the ceiling. “My name is Steve.”
“Okay,” you say, abandoning the washing to sit back on the mat again. “Do you want me to call you that or Grant?”
He turns, brows furrowed, and in the most authoritative voice, he replies, “you can’t tell anyone.”
You rest your chin on the lip of the tub, too. “I know. I won’t.”
Eyes locked, you two stare at each other for a long beat.
“The Captain America suit kinda gave it away though,” you whisper, and to your surprise and delight, Steve flicks water at you in retaliation.
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, “handle yourself in here while I go start the laundry.”
You stretch and almost—almost—kiss his forehead because, for whatever reason, that feels right, but at the last second you tuck your head down, acting like you were just standing up. You can’t bring yourself to look back at him while gathering the clothes.
You keep busy downstairs, scrubbing at a few spots of caked on muck, trying not to listen to the sounds of splashing, the squeaking as he moves around, the rush of the draining bath, and the tap turning back on to rinse him again. You scramble to find the biggest t-shirt and pair of pants you own (although, come to think of it, Steve’s got fairly small hips, so you grab some stretchy sweats) and hand them through the door when realizing he has nothing else to wear.
He emerges with several visible cuts and scrapes but dismisses your offer to treat them.
“It’s not worth the effort. They’ll be gone by morning.”
You’ve decided something: if he doesn’t bring it up, you won’t either.
Whatever he wants to tell you, whenever he wants to tell it, you don’t ask. You are used to keeping guests’ confidence—not that anyone tells you deep, dark secrets, but you refuse to gossip about cleanliness or things in the trash—and ‘Grant’ will be no different.
You can, however, still tease him.
“Ready to share that queen bed with Tom?” You give his beefy arm a playful punch.
Steve groans.
“Kidding,” you beam. “I’m not making you walk that path in the dark right now. An elk could get ya!”
He pinches tired eyes, a ghost of a smirk realigning the hairs of his beard. You imagine that on any other day, he would put up more of a fight, but he’s fought enough.
“Yeah, okay. As long as I won’t scare the daylights out of your parents by being on the couch in the morning.” Steve steps over to the landing at the top of the stairs.
“They’re at a hospitality conference. I run the place…mostly. Besides, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t offer you a bed that fits you?” You dramatically bow and indicate your room. “This way, please, sir.”
Good thing he has no fight left in him. His eyes narrow adorably, but he doesn’t budge.
“I should let Tom know.”
“There is a phone in there, too. I’ll dial room eight.”
You get him some water, hanging his clothes to dry, offering as much privacy as you can in an old house with thin walls.
“Yeah, hi, it’s…yes, yes, I’m… Yeah, I know. I know, Sam, just—you don’t have to laugh about it. She let me use the bath, is all. You’re the one who—Well, don’t take all the damn wa—hello? Hello?” Steve is staring at the receiver of the land line when you appear in the doorway. “Uh, he…gets it.”
He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing around your neither childish nor sterile room. You put the glass down on your side table instead of handing it to him.
“Okay, I think you need rest,” you add, sweeping your hand down his bare arm.
You marvel at how the edges of his cuts are already shrinking, knitting back together in near-realtime. Your fingertips trace around the skin like an interactive roadmap.
First heal this, then he needs this, and this is deeper here.
You wonder whether he feels pain the same as everyone else. Is it dulled? Does he just have to ignore how much and how frequently he hurts because it goes away sooner? That’s a sad thought to you. Just because he’ll be okay, doesn’t mean he should suffer more.
He’s a miracle. As Grant, Steve, Cap, or nobody at all, he’s still a miracle.
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“You don’t have to go…”
The last of the evening blurs as you wake, but you remember Steve needed this. He asked you to stay.
Spooning is the only way to fit on the bed together. After finishing your own bedtime routing, you began behind the giant man, curled tight, lightly scratching over his broad shoulders and arms. He fell asleep so quickly, and you don’t recall how long after that you both turned over. You had to drape Steve’s awkward arm around you, show him he could hold you close, assure him he can be as comfortable as he likes.
Whichever way he settled is infinitely better than falling off the bed, and you’re grateful he’s accommodating in a small space. You suppose he has to be. Though, for a man as dense as a brick wall, he is shockingly pliant around you. 
Shame you have to stretch, ruining the picture of fitting puzzle pieces you’ve become.
Arms out and legs long, you roll, restless on the one side for too long in the night. Steve shifts around your moves, laying his head on your arm instead of the pillow. His arm that was your pillow wedges down by your waist instead.
Your knees knock his, so even in sleep, he lets them slot through, legs entangled and…his erection laying over your thigh, the tip poking your hip.
Your body tenses for a split second, the muscles of your leg brush harder against his cock, and Steve groans softly, the arm draped over you pulling your body closer.
He’s still asleep, breathing easy, his features totally relaxed.
His golden hair shines in the early light, and he’s so, so beautiful.
You move stray locks from his face, enjoying how he nuzzles and sighs as you play. Quiet, lazy touches.
His hips nudge forward for friction. His fingers grab at your nightshirt. One of his shifts angles his length to drive against your mound instead, and you gasp involuntarily, having smothered your excitement for too long.
He stirs, a heavier, longer breath followed by Steve's whole body going rigid and his eyes squeezing shut. He tries to bury his face in your arm, and you can’t help it. You hope he’ll continue.
You shush him, carding through his hair to soothe him as you did in the bath.
There’s nothing wrong.
He can feel good.
He should feel good.
You want him to feel good. Hell, you don’t say it, but you need to make him feel good.
Steve still won’t face you. He leans closer, shielding himself with your chest, but he doesn’t pull his hips away.
You can hear him thinking through his options groggily, and in your nervousness, you pull at the fistful of hair in your hand.
Steve whimpers and juts his pelvis forward.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Did you like that? Does that feel nice, Stevie?”
His abs flutter with a spasming exhale, but he says nothing. His rough hands dig into your back while he desperately seeks more friction.
You let him—you encourage him—to keep going.
“Whatever you need…it’s okay.”
He pants into your skin, making you sweat while he dissolves into a mewling mess of shame, taking what he deserves.
He bends his leg for leverage, the sole of his foot pressing flush to your calf. You feel his thumping heartbeat along all of your skin that touches his. He swallows moans which sound hollow and deep where they die in his chest before Steve grunts and stretches, the whole underbelly of his cock rubbing your inner thigh and baiting your clit mercilessly with almost-contact.
You release his hair, asking “do you want my han—”
But it’s too late.
Steve seizes you in his last moments hard before he stills, palms so wide you’ll feel the marks over an entire shoulder blade and the breadth of skin from your ass to your ribcage.
You yelp, the nails of your trapped hand clawing at the sheets around you. It’s a good pain. It’s worth it to witness how his body melts into yours after he comes. He’s lax and heavy, pathetic convulsions of ecstasy subsiding.
You’re only just starting to feel the wet fabric on your thigh when he peels away and rushes to the bathroom.
The best thing for him is to act normal. It is normal for him to be hard in the morning, to want contact and satisfaction, and the truth is it’s perfectly normal for you to dream of providing that for him. You want that contact with him. You are satisfied when he is satisfied.
That's scary because it's a secret as hidden from you both as his identity now, but you won't talk about it. If he doesn't ask, then he doesn't want the answer. It's better that way.
So that was okay, and this is okay.
It's okay, and you tell him when you bring his gym clothes back to the door. You repeat it as he walks out of your home unable to look you in the eye, his partially-destroyed past life wadded up in a fresh plastic bag.
At the bottom of the porch steps, he turns, still focused on the ground.
“Thank you for the…the bath.”
You can’t tell anyone about him—about how you feel for him—not even him. It wouldn’t be right. He doesn’t want that.
“I’m glad you feel better, Grant.”
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A/N: Google, Play 'Hopelessly Devoted To You.' *starts weeping some more*
[Next Part: Sensitive Boy, Part I]
[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes
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whereireid · 1 year
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
pairing:dark!boss!steve rogers x virgin!fem reader
WORDCOUNT: 5.9k | warnings: dubious consent ! power imbalance (boss!steve, employee!reader) sexual naivety, height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader], oral m receiving, rough p in v, misogyny, sexism, breeding kink, daddy kink, housewife kink, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, praise kink, spanking, captain kink, dumb baby reader (in steve's eyes), nonconsensual pregnancy, reader loves big mean stevie and loves when he taints her <3
PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.
summary: Steve Rogers is in deep need of a new personal assistant. You, an intern for Stark who often loiters around the Avengers Compound, put yourself forward for the position. You believe working under the Captain America will help you to get in good graces throughout your career. Little do you know, being America’s golden boy’s personal assistant means doing a little more than rummaging through files and writing letters.
So pretty, so perfect, so poised. Steve Rogers sits back comfortably in his chair, his eyes trained on you, never leaving, not even to acknowledge the poor waitress who puts his beer down in front of him. You speak proper, each word flowing from your mouth with purpose, your speech coherent, and your voice confident.
It makes Steve’s cock twitch in his trousers as he watches you. Your gaze on him doesn’t linger, but you do flinch when he reaches towards his beer too quickly. It makes his stomach flip, and he tries to hold back the hiss that threatens to slip past his lips. He knows he’s America’s Golden Boy, and that he’s supposed to be better than this; but he was raised in the 1930’s, and his ideals surrounding women never really fizzled out.
Your voice fades back in, and as you address him, it snaps Steve out of his train of thought. “So, I’m sure now that we’re well acquainted with each other, Captain Rogers—“
“Please. Just call me Steve. We’ve known one another long enough.”
He quirks a brow as your cheeks flood over in red, before beckoning you to continue your speech. “Well, then, Steve,” you swallow thickly, your voice dropping a few octaves, and Steve senses that he’s embarrassed you. “Now that we’re well - uh, better - acquainted, I hope that you can consider me for the position of your personal assistant.”
“What?” Steve’s blue eyes bore into yours, and they make you brood in anxiety. You feel childish, sitting in front of him in a flowery dress, at what could somewhat be considered an interview, asking to work for him. Perhaps you should’ve dressed nicer, more work appropriate? Yet, before you can blubber on, Steve continues; “doll, if you wanted to work for me, you could’ve just said. Did you do all of this to ask for the position?”
He blinks at you. Embarrassment washes over you like a tsunami wave as you blink back at him. Of course, you could’ve just said you wanted to work for him - you feel naive ever thinking otherwise. Steve’s not a stranger, you practically work with him every day, and he'd be more than enthusiastic to hear you out. He's not one of. the guys at work who ignore women and everything they have to say. He’s nice enough to always say hello to you and sometimes buy you coffee, and flowers if you were down. He's one of the good ones!“I thought it might’ve been inappropriate to ask you whilst you were training.” You shoot him a small smile, trying to ignore how the upwards tug of his lips makes your skin rise with goosebumps.
“Does Stark know you’re applying for this role?”
"He’s actually the one who suggested it.”
Steve takes a long sip of his drink. He stares at you over the rim of the glass, watching you squirm and ponder over his answer. He already knows the answer to your question, but watching you shuffle in your seat and act silly in front of him makes his cock throb, and he enjoys the feeling. You’re so innocent, pressing against the table, wide-eyed, acting as though your tits aren’t pressed together and basically on display for him. The dress is so low-cut. It makes him want to take you right here.
Did you wear that just to get him riled up? “Well, I can’t think of anybody more suitable to fit the position. You know the Compound, you know my office, and I’ve noticed you get on well with higher authorities. You seem like a doting employee.” He kisses his teeth slightly, looking down at the table, before looking up at you through his lashes. He tries to hold back the smirk on his face as he speaks, but it’s impossible not to: “of course, you will also be expected to work somewhat more flexible hours. Later start times, later finishes. We won't always be in the office at the compound - a lot of my additional work files are at my personal home office, but I can always make you up a key to give you easier access."
“Of course,” you chirp, nodding at him enthusiastically. “I’m okay with longer hours, and I can work around you and what you need.”
Steve grins. “Perfect.”
It has been about three weeks since you left your position as an intern at Stark Industries and began working for Steve Rogers. It was an exhausting process at first; the sudden change in routine, the heavy workload, the unsociable hours, and Steve often worried you would change your mind. If you couldn't bend for this position, you would break, and he was incredibly worried you'd do the latter. Perhaps because he hadn’t seen you frown so often before, but during the first fortnight of working as his assistant, your lips were always somewhat tugged downwards, and you were always so busy, unable to even joke with him.
You soldiered on, though. Managing to catch up to months worth of missed calls, avoided emails, old paperwork, and forgotten documents. Steve praised you every time you completed a task, and often he found you beaming up at him, prideful and flustered.
Yet, whilst peeking up from his desktop, he finds himself annoyed. You’re sitting quietly opposite him, noting down things and scheduling appointments, and he can’t help the twitch of his cock as he watches you do it. You're not incredibly busy anymore, and yet you're not engaging in any conversation with him. Steve knows you value professionalism, but he only really let you have this job because of his alternative motives when it comes to you.
His eyes flicker back to the computer screen, and then back to you. It's like before his brain can register what he's doing; he's doing it, but he doesn't mind. This is his office, after all, his space. You're his assistant, and if anything, you're supposed to assist him in doing it. His hands are wrapped around his thick, angry cock, and he pumps slowly, watching you intensely.
You're tapping away at your computer so innocently. Your eyes are wide and interested, and clearly whatever your scheduling for Steve has your entire attention because you don't even look up at him. He strokes his cock carefully, and slowly, and his breathing wavers as he runs a finger over his angry, red tip, using some of his precum for lube.
“You okay, Steve?” your voice fills the quiet room, and he looks over at you, his hands still wrapped around his cock. The naivety of your tone makes his cock twitch in his hands, and his pace slows. He makes eye contact with you, never breaking it as he slowly strokes his hand up and down his length. It makes him so much harder that you have no idea what he's doing, and he imagines what your lips would feel like wrapped around him.
“Fine, doll. Just a little sore.” Steve purses his lips as you nod. He meets your eyes, and you hold his gaze, concern plastering over your face.
You're so... modest. Completely unaware of what he's doing, and he loves it. Steve craves you; craves to taint the innocence which consumes you. You're too trusting for your own good, and one of these days, it's going to get you hurt.
Steve just needs to make sure it's him that hurts you, and nobody else.
“You do look awfully red, Steve.” You murmur across from him, concern painting your features. The heavy gaze your boss has on you makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable, but worry overrides any instinctive emotion. “Do you feel hot?”
Steve grunts in agreement with your question. He looks more disheveled than usual. His posture seems hunched, but he seems somewhat relaxed, and his gaze is hard and trained on you. You're unsure as to what's wrong - he's so red, it looks like he's burning up. Perhaps he has a fever, but you're sure the Super Soldier Serum ensures that he doesn't get ill. “Can I get you anything? Paracetamol? A glass of water?” you ask innocently, standing up from your desk chair, slowly walking towards him.
His computer monitor thankfully covers his crotch. Steve’s eyes don’t leave you, and it makes his cock leak when you softly begin to walk over to him. He’s almost certain you own nothing but inappropriate, seductive clothing; he’s seen more of your cleavage these past three weeks than he has anyone else’s, and it’s driving him crazy. The fact he’s managed to hold off from devouring you is insane, but he isn’t sure how much longer he can take.
Being the nice guy just doesn’t seem to be working. The hand which was stroking his cock stills, and he commands you to stop once you’re mere inches away, stood behind his monitor, so small he can hardly see you. “Do you own any appropriate clothing?”
His question is direct and his tone is reprimanding. Your knees wobble, and your head hangs slightly. Shame spreads throughout your body. “I didn’t realise this was inappropriate. My apologies.”
It’s unlike Steve to bark at you. Usually, he’s incredibly soft-spoken and considerate, yet it seems you’ve worn any patience he’s held for you thin. “Doll, every outfit you’ve worn this week has been low-cut and short.” He breathes, and your neck prickles with discomfort when you notice how dark and blown his pupils are. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been kind. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I don’t think these kinds of… outfits would be appropriate elsewhere. You didn’t wear these outfits when interning for Stark.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Your subordinate manner only makes his cock twitch more, and he’s thankful his hand is sheathing his cock, because the precum that trickles out of its covers his skin and not his trousers. “I’ll try to be more considerate next time.”
It’s painful to let go of his length, but he has to, and he shoves it back inside of his trousers and innocently buttons them up. “Are you wearing these suggestive outfits to get a rise out of me?”
You gasp. “No. Never. I - Sir, I aim to be as appropriate and considerate as possible. I’m sorry I’ve been misleading you.” Steve rises from his seat, and you swallow thickly, feeling incredibly small compared to your boss. You’ve often been close to him - side by side, brushing shoulders, but he’s always been soft-spoken and gentle, apologetic and genuinely caring. Now, it seems like his patience is worn thin, and as opposed to seeing a civilian Steve, you feel as though you're standing in front of a soldier. “I can go and change now if you want?”
“No.” His tone is so low it matches that of a growl, and you cower weakly as he towers over you. Fear pulsates in your being as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling incredibly unsafe, and your heart races in your chest. Steve would never hurt me, you remind yourself, he’s one of the good ones.
You open your mouth to speak, but Steve shushes you. His finger splays over your lips, and you feel scolded and childlike. “I think you do it for attention.” His finger pushes against you, as does his body, as he stalks forward and you shuffle backward, trying to keep any space between the two of you. “You know, it’s been hard staying silent for this long. Watching you from afar, never knowing what to say or do.” His hot breath fans your ear, and Steve’s nostrils flare. “Trying to be a gentleman. Buying you coffee and flowers and cards when you were working at the Compound as a way to be friendly and nice. But I don’t think you want that.”
“I’m sorry, Steve.” You squeak out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Steve’s fingers gently press against your skin, wiping away any that spill, his skin icy against your own. “I-I’ve appreciated the gifts. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” He asks, his eyes shooting down at you. You nod your head eagerly, staring up at him, trying to ignore how the dark look in his eyes makes your stomach flip. “I don’t think you’re truly sorry. I gave you this job to be my personal assistant. I expected more of you. You’re dressing as whore, and you can’t even apologize correctly.”
You swallow thickly, staring up at him. “‘M sorry. I haven’t meant to present myself that way,” your voice wavers. “What would y-you deem a suitable apology, Steve?”
“Captain.” Steve’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you squeak slightly as he tugs at it. “You only get to call me Steve when you’ve been good, which you haven’t.”
“How should I apologize, Captain?”
Your voice is an incredulous whisper. The subordination you show drives Steve crazy, and it takes everything in him not to force your mouth open and push you onto his cock. No, he needs to coax you into it - make you agree that this is the best way to apologize. Any other way wouldn’t suffice.
It’s as though you can’t believe this is happening - and in a way, Steve can’t, either. He’s always imagined this happening - having you begging him to tell you how to do something in a way that’s deemed fit in his eyes, having you be in pain whilst doing it. He curses slightly, before breathing out, “use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me.”
“What?”
“I said, ‘use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me’. Don’t expect me to repeat myself again.” He warns, blinking down at you, before muttering, “you’ve dressed like a whore, sweetheart. I think it’s only fair the Captain treats you as such.” His thumb drags down your lips, and you look up at him with such hesitation it makes his balls throb. He feels as though the look on your face could make him cum already.
Warmth floods over your cheeks. It feels wrong as Steve’s palms press heavily on your shoulders, the weight of him coaxing you down. A shudder leaves you as he forces you onto your knees in front of him, and you stare at his trousers, which are tight by the groin. “Captain, I don’t think -“ you swallow thickly, shaking as he comes down to unbutton his trousers, and flinching once his hands clasp yours, “-I don’t think this is appropriate.”
Your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, and he glares down at you, relishing in your embarrassment. Your eyelashes are wet and tears prickle your eyes still, “You’re on your knees now, doll.” He huffs, blowing out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Your hands shake as he guides them to his trousers. “You might as well get on with it.”
“No I - I don’t want to.” Your voice wavers as he uses your hands to pry his cock out of his trousers, which is an angry red and seeping with cum, and you feel like scurrying away from it. “I-I haven’t ever done anything like this before.” Steve is stronger than you and the grip he’s got on your wrists makes you feel as though they will snap, so you decide not to, rather cowering away from his length in fear.
“Are you a virgin?” His question makes your head shoot up in embarrassment, your eyes wide and distraught, and he groans. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking virgin.”
“I never said I was,” you mutter, yelping when his hands strike you against the face. Fresh tears fall over old tear stains, and you flinch as his fingers splay over your chin.
He tuts. “Don’t lie to me. Are you a virgin?”
“Yes,” you murmur, shameful, eyes watery as you stare up at him. You sniffle, thankful for his gentle touch, which replaces the cruelty of his hands seconds ago. It makes your heart bloom with warmth as he brushes your face softly with his fingers, although he’s wiping away the pain he’s caused.
“My pretty little baby’s a virgin,” Steve coos, and the tone of his voice makes pressure form in your lower belly. “This mouth has never been around anyone’s cock before? Ever?”
There’s almost a deluded tone in his voice as he presses his tip against your lips. You quiver below him, your eyes trained on him as he pushes himself in your mouth. It feels wrong to do this with him - it feels exploitative, and whilst you opt to pull away from him, the wetness in your panties warns you otherwise. You’re enjoying this, and it’s making you feel terrible. You’re letting your boss take advantage of you and you love it.
You'd be lying if you denied the fact that you found Steve attractive. You had a thing for blonds, and the Golden Boy reputation he had made butterflies form in your belly. The fact he was so unlike what he seems makes your thighs clench and your pussy throb. A Golden Boy with an urge to taint; and somehow, you want to be tainted.
You hum against his cock, and it makes Steve’s stomach explode with heat. The wet of your tongue and the hot of your mouth is everything he’s ever wanted and more, and as your teeth scrape against him, he hisses, trying to hold back the smack he wants to deliver to you. You’re not ready for that yet; you’re a virgin, a sweet girl who needs taking care of. He needs to be gentle with you. “Nuh-uh-uh, doll. Cover those teeth of yours and hollow your cheeks - yes, like that, baby."
Steve breathes heavily as you take it in. It feels intrusive to your mouth as you suck on his cock, your tongue swirling up and down his tip. His hands make their way into your hair, and he gently begins to slide your head up and down, going at a quicker pace. It makes your belly ache with warmth as he does it, the feeling of his hands wrapped in your hair making you feel surprisingly... horny? It makes your face flush when you realize you're enjoying being used by Steve, and you eagerly begin to run your tongue up and down his length, tracing his veins and making sure to pay extra attention to his tip.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his balls slapping against your chin uncomfortably, “make your daddy’s cock nice and wet.” Steve’s pace quickens, and more and more of his cock forces its way into your mouth until your eyes are pricking with tears and you’re almost certain his length is going to suffocate you. Gag after gag follows through with each desperate thrust of his hips, and you clasp your hands around his thigh, looking up at him, eager to breathe. He doesn’t let you.
“My perfect little girl. Let daddy cum in your mouth and he’ll forgive you for dressing like such a whore.”
It’s not like you’ve got much of a choice anyway. In Steve's eyes, he's waited long enough to paint you in his cum, and it doesn’t take long for him to finish. He pulls out slightly, spewing cum over your cheeks and lips, grunting with approval at the sight of you. His innocent little personal assistant, who has never felt a man’s cock before today, has just had her throat fucked as though she were a fleshlight. Steve groans, steadying himself by using your head for support, and your nose crinkles as you swallow his cum which had painted your tongue.
It doesn't taste that bad.
“Best you clean yourself up.” Steve murmurs as you clamber up, knees shaking, the heat between your legs throbbing. “I don’t want my personal assistant to look so... defiled whilst she’s working alongside me.”
“Yes, Captain.”
As you attempt to scurry off to the bathroom, Steve stops you. “I want to make a few things clear about your position as my personal assistant, doll.”
You nod your head, uncertain as to what he might say next. The sight of you covered in his cum makes his heart bloom with pride, and he realises that he has finally got you where he wants you to be. “Your role as my personal assistant is to assist me with anything I deem necessary. Whether that be sexual or otherwise. You got that?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Good girl.”
Your body has been aching and sore for days. Forcing yourself up from your desk chair, you jolt slightly at the sudden pain which shoots up through your spine. You look away from Steve’s hot gaze, which makes you feel flustered and funny, and you begin to flip through pages in your folder, desperate to keep yourself occupied and not draw too much attention from Steve.
“Come here, doll.” His voice is gentle, his arms wide and open, urging you in.
You nod your head, opting to agree. You've become conditioned to his sexual advances, and he accepts when you're not in the mood, saying that he doesn't want to pressure you. Steve is a good guy in that way; he wants you to move at your own pace. You only have to do this for a few more months or so, as that’s how long your contract is.
Steve taps his lap. You comply, carefully seating yourself atop of him, crinkling your nose when he gets too close. He notices, but he doesn’t care, leaning backward slightly and brushing a curl away from your face.
“What have I done for you to hate me?” his once confident voice is quiet, oozing with rejection.
You blink at him. “I - I don’t hate you.”
Steve hums, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. You shuffle uncomfortably in his lap, looking up at him with big, doe eyes, and it makes his cock twitch. You’re so innocent, so friendly, a big baby that needs protecting from the world. All Steve wants to do is protect you and keep you safe. “You don’t look at me the same anymore,” he notes quietly. “You used to look at me like I was a savior before you started working under me.”
You shuffle uncomfortably, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves slightly to get comfortable, and your breath hitches in your throat when his clothed crotch rubs against yours. “I still think of you as a savior, Stevie,” you murmur quietly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
You’ve worked for Steve long enough now to know that the way around difficult conversations is to stroke his ego. His hand snakes around your back, and he traipses his fingers up and down your back slowly. “No bra, huh? What have I told you about dressing appropriately?”
“S-sorry, Steve.”
“Mmm, I forgive you, baby.” His hands fall to your skirt, and his fingers slowly ride up them. The material parts with the moving of his hands, and your body flushes with heat when his finger slides up and down your slits. He tuts. “No underwear, either? This'll be a little harder to forgive.”
You squeak slightly as Steve pushes a finger inside of you. “Y-you asked me not to wear underwear when I'm around you.”
“Nuh-uh-uh. I don’t remember that, doll. Don’t make things up to try and make yourself better off.” Except, he does remember it because he practically commanded you to strip your underwear off the last time you wore some when working alongside him. But you don’t need to remember that. Steve wants you to believe everything you do for him is because you want to do it, not because he’s told you to.
“Really?” you squeak as he curls his finger inside of you, ensuring he hits against your spongy spot. You try to ignore the heaviness of Steve’s gaze, and you swallow dryly, stuttering as Steve slips another digit in, beginning to fuck you faster with a ‘come-forth’ motion.
“Yeah, doll. Maybe you just wanted your daddy to have easier access to this pretty pussy of yours. I know how much you like getting that little pussy touched.”
His fingers slow down inside of you, and he gazes down at you with a raised brow. You protest, trying to roll against his fingers, but he grabs your thighs and shakes his head. “Bad girls don’t get to feel good.”
“I’m not bad," you whine, and Steve shakes his head in response.
“You lied to daddy. Said he wanted you to wear no underwear. You said it like I’ve been forcing you not to wear underwear when it was your decision.”
The sharpness in his tone makes you recoil, and you still your lower half. against him, not wanting to make him anymore angrier than he already is. “I-I’m sorry. It was my decision. I’m sorry for lying.”
Steve sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You know, I’ve been holding back these past weeks. I wanted to break you in.” He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whine in protest, but your sounds are muffled when he shoves them inside of your mouth. You suck instinctively, and he groans against you. “I’ve been wanting to use that pretty pussy of yours for so long, doll. Been wanting to defile you and make you mine.”
Before you can even react, the tip of his cock is pressing against your slits. “I’ve wanted to fuck you and fill you up with my cum for so long now.” His voice is a growl, and you feel frozen in place, beginning to slowly shake your head. “Fuck you full of my babies. And I know you want that, too.” He groans as he presses harsh kisses against your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin.
“No, Steve,” you breathe heavily as he holds you into place, your own body no match for the strength of his. “I- I don’t want that. I'm not ready for a baby."
“But you are. You just don’t know it yet.” His cock pushes into you, and you let out a whimper, struggling against him. Your walls sheathe him, and you let out a pained squeak. "Look at how well you take me, baby. You were made for me. You’re so wet for me. Look at you, trying to deny your rightful place as my subordinate. My pretty little girl.”
He forces his cock into you slowly. Your walls squeeze around him, sheathing his cock so well, and you whimper, squeezing your nails into his shoulders so hard you feel as though you're going to leave behind crescent moons. "No, Steve," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut, desperately trying to get rid of the burn between your leg. "'t hurts. Stevie, I'm not ready."
"You're ready, baby," he seethes, throwing his head back slightly as he pushes his hips up further. "Your little virgin pussy is hugging my cock so fucking tight."
A mewl escapes you as his cock brushes up against the spongy spot inside of you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and mascara begins to brew below your lash line. Steve stares at you, his gaze passionate, wondering how he ever got so lucky. Not only has he got you exactly where he needs you, but he's also ruining you, tainting you for other men.
The only way he can truly ensure other men will leave you alone is to fill that belly of yours with his baby, so that's exactly what he intends to do. "Does that feel good?" he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. "You feel so full, baby?"
"So full, Steve," you whine, trying to adjust yourself to gather more comfort. Your walls rub against his cock as you adjust, and it feels kind of... good, so you do it again. Your hips slowly roll atop of him, and you whimper to yourself, pain mixing with pleasure.
Steve lets you bounce on him. It's a slow pace, and it doesn't hurt, though it feels unnatural to have something this big inside of you. It's not that you're entirely sexually naive - you've masturbated before, but this is completely different. Steve is huge, and with every roll of your hips, you can feel him. There's no room for escape, and your stomach flips as you throw your arms around his neck. "Steve," you breathe, eyes flittering shut as the coil inside of you threatens to break and snap, your toes curled in desperation. It feels as though you're just inches away from experiencing pure ecstasy, but you can't reach it, and it's making you so frustrated, you feel as though you could cry. "H-help me, Steve."
"You want Daddy's help when getting off?" he coos, brushing a curl away from your face. You stare down at him, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, and he groans slightly. So cute, so small, so ready for him. This is how you should be - begging for his help, needing him, relying on him. You're just a woman, after all; you need a big, strong man like Steve to take care of you.
His hips thrust up, and it's incredibly painful at first. Steve's pace is nothing compared to yours - you were being slow and gentle with your body, and he just wants to ruin it. His hips smash into you, his cock sliding in and out, and he peppers harsh kisses against your neck. You mewl against him, pressing up against his chest to feel him, your toes curling in your flats, your eyes dazed, mouth gaping. You look like a picture-perfect image, and Steve grunts as he fucks you, wanting to tip you over the edge.
It doesn't take long until the coil snaps. You murmur and shake against him, your thighs clenched as you cum, squirting all over his cock, drenching his balls and trousers. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you yell against him, his cock relentlessly fucking you throughout your orgasm.
"I'm gonna fill you with my babies," he growls, "drown your pussy with my fucking cum."
"No," you cry out, unable to move as he thrusts himself into you; again and again and again. You feel so helpless, so small and weak against him, and you stare up at him. His pupils are dark and blown, and his Adam's apple bobs desperately, his nostrils flaring as his cock twitches inside of you. "Please, pull out!"
"I don't think so, baby," he grunts, and with one final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you. Your walls squeeze him simultaneously, and he lets out a low, powerful groan, as he coaxes your walls with his cum. "Gotta make you a nice little housewife. Gonna have you popping out all of my babies."
Steve brushes away the tears which slip down your cheeks. He doesn't even realize how hard he's been holding you until he lets go, your arms riddled with handprint marks which he's sure will bruise. "Don't cry, doll," he murmurs, "you knew what came with the job."
"No, I didn't," you sniffle, pressing your head into his neck. It's wrong how his warmth and his smell act as a safety valve for you when he's the reason you're so upset. "I would've never - I would've never gotten into this if I knew what you expected from me."
A gentle sob racks your body, and Steve looks down at you, caressing your face gently. "Baby, stop crying. You're ruining that little face of yours." In honesty, Steve's patience is running thin. He's been good to you; caring, doting, paying you well for an easy job, and this is how you react? You cry into his arms after he tells you he's going to pump you full of his children? He's Captain America, for God's sake. You should be begging for it. "Just - Jesus fucking christ," he huffs as you continue to cry, grabbing your face harshly, and the sudden grip shocks you. "Stop crying. If you're going to speak, at least try and be fucking coherent."
Nodding your head, you wipe your eyes, which are tender and you assume, red. "I'm not ready for this," your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve almost feels a bit sorry at the sight of you. "I- I don't want this."
"Only good girls get what they want," Steve states plainly, staring at your disheveled face. He certainly got what he wanted - you look ruined, and you feel it, too. He imagines his cum is mixed with a bit of your blood; what, with him defiling you and all, he probably broke your hymen as well. The thought makes him grin to himself, and he utters, "I don't think you've been good, so you don't get what you want, baby."
"I'm sorry! I just - this doesn't seem like a fair punishment! I don't want this!" You cry out as Steve delivers a harsh smack to your ass, and you gaze up at him pathetically through your lashes as he tuts.
"I don't care if you think it's fair or not. You've been teasing me ever since you were an intern at Stark Industries, doll. I've been waiting to breed you for that long," his voice vibrates against you, and you shake your head, ashamed that you even thought you could get away with arguing against him. He's the Captain, and he has all of the control. "Anyway, you're just a dumb little baby. You have no idea what you want right now. But I do. I know what's good for you. Don't you trust me, baby?"
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rogersideup · 1 month
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Chapter 2
Wine and Dine
Series masterlist
Previous part: Love You More Next part: Expendable
Word Count: 6,169
Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.
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Steve wasn't quite sure he had ever ran so fast in his entire life. Wearing a heather grey henley, jeans, and some nice shoes, he knew he probably looked ridiculous as he zoomed by people in the hallways like a gust of wind.
After being deployed on the emergency mission for almost 3 weeks now, you were just about to land at the compound. From what he understood from the gossip floating around the compound, and confirming by the report notifications that popped up in the corner of his computer, it was a really bad one.
Agents were dropping like flies, if felt like every few hours one was being sent back to the compound due to injury or a psychological break. He tried multiple times to get the Avengers on the mission to help clear it out faster, it was obviously way too big for the agents to be handling alone.
Every time he tried, Fury shot him down because there already was an avenger on the mission. Though he agreed and trusted whole heartedly that you could handle it, he knew that if he was in your position, single handedly being the only reason why anything was actually getting done under exhaustive conditions, he'd appreciate another member of his team being sent to him
Not even a full minute ago you had called him in hysterics. He could barely understand you through your cries but he could tell just by the sounds slipping past your throat that you were in unbearable pain. It made his heart pound out of his chest as he tried to console you to the point of being able to understand what had happened.
When Commander Bennet realized that the wind had been knocked out of you, he gently grabbed the phone from your hands and spoke to Steve.
"Captain Rogers?" He quested after reading 'Steve' at the top of your phone screen.
"Yeah, hi, what's going on?" Steve asked frantically.
"Agent 306 is not in good shape. We had some sort of biological weapon hit us hard. It was a pale blue, powdery substance that was causing extreme irritation and almost burn like reaction on any exposed skin it touched." Bennett explained.
"But her tact suit covers most of her skin-" Steve vocalized his thoughts.
"She tried to stop the attack before it got worse, jumped on the attacker's back to yank the weapon out of his hand but..." He sighed. "Agent 212..."
"What did Harvey do?" Steve started seething.
"To put it simply, 212 got in her way. She had it and was about to put the whole mission to an end. I'm not sure if he thought he was going to beat her to it or if he wanted to help, but he threw her off and crashed right into her. The attacker grabbed hold of the collar of her tact suit from the back of her neck and poured a pretty large amount of the powder all the way down her back."
"Oh man, how bad is it?" Steve got up, already knowing where this was leading.
"She's in excruciating pain." He put simply. "We have lab techs on board studying the substance. They said that the effects are only extreme irritation, burns, and stinging pain for upwards of 5 hours. We already informed medical, they said there's not much they can do other than shower her and try to manage the pain with ibuprofen. She said she'd rather just do that at home, and she's asking for you now. Any way you could meet us on the runway?"
"Absolutely, what's the ETA?" Steve asked, walking down the hall towards the Jet landing runway.
"Touch down in a minute-thirty."
"I'll be there." Steve said simply before hanging up.
From where he was in the building, he knew making it to the runway was a five minute walk, so he made it a one minute and thirty second run instead.
He pushed through the doors to get outside onto the runway just as the jet wheels had touched down on the tarmac. The second it stopped moving, he practically ripped the door open with his own two hands and waited very impatiently for the rush of agents disembarking before he could get to you.
Harvey didn't get a chance to pass by Steve without receiving a glare from the soldier that sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.
The very second he could, Steve rushed onto the Jet and you were curled up on the floor with your knees to your chest and your face digging into your knee caps. Commander Bennett was at your side trying to comfort you, but you were rocking back and forth to try and manage the pain, and doing your best to muffle your sobs as to not further inconvenience any of the other agents who had to hear you whaling the entire flight home.
Steve sank onto his knees right next to you, and placed a hand on you arm.
"You got it from here, Captain?" Bennett asked.
"Of course." Steve nodded, understanding he had more work to be done.
"Report back to me when you can?" Steve could see the worry in his eyes.
"Yes, sir."
Your commander got up and off the Jet following the other agents, and Steve's heart was still uncomfortably racing around in his chest.
"Hey, Bug." Steve gently squeezed your arm to try and get you to uncurl from your tiny little ball.
"M'sorry to bother you" You cried while lifting your head. Talking through the pain and shortness of air in your lungs was a struggle, but you took a moment and tried your hardest. "It hurts so bad, didn't know what else to do."
"It's okay, you're not a bother to me." He shook his head and got a good look at you.
Your tact suit was covered in smoke and ash, as well as your face. There was a deep scratch along your left cheek bone accompanied by smeared blood, presumably your own, and you jawline on the right side was bruised.
Steve's pounding heart came to a stand still before completely melting into a puddle when you let your forehead fall onto his collarbone. Instinctively, his hand gently cradled the back of your head.
Immediately, you felt safer and calmer in his hold. Letting someone take over your well-being when you had no control was terrifying, but Steve earned your trust more than anyone else in your life ever did. Around him, you knew everything would be okay regardless of the circumstances.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He questioned calmly.
"Feels like I ca-can't breathe" You hiccuped.
"I know, I'm sorry." Steve pouted. "Having the wind knocked out of you is normal sometimes when you're in that much pain. It's one of the worst feelings in the world but it'll go away. Just keep taking big deep breaths, it'll start to fade."
"S...still powder in my suit." You warned him. "Careful."
"Okay, we should get it off of you as soon as we can then." He thought out loud knowing that as long as it was still making contact with your skin, you would never start to feel better. "I'm going to get you out of here and up to your apartment okay?"
"Hurts so bad- feel like I can't move." You explained the best you could, internally panicking.
"Can I carry you?" Steve questioned, wanting to make sure he had your permission.
"What if it gets on you?" You questioned, not wanting him to feel the same pain you were in.
"I'm wearing long sleeves and long pants, it'll be okay." He reassured you. "I don't want to hurt your back even more, so wrap your arms around my neck and I'll hold onto the bottom of your legs."
You were happy to wrap your arms gently around his neck, and your legs around his waist as he carefully lifted you up. Without as much as a second thought, you nestled your face into the crook of his neck and continued to let the presence of your best friend comfort you while you focused on trying to catch your breath.
Steve was so focused on his personal mission to make you feel better that he didn't let his mind even entertain his personal feelings for you anymore. Meanwhile, you had an opposite technique to reign in some pain management. Steve smelled so good that the deep breathing with your face shoved into his neck was now a pleasant experience, and momentarily took your mind off the unbearable pain you were in.
Unfortunately his incredible taste in cologne wasn't enough to completely stop your mental and physical pain by the time he got you into your apartment and gently set you down on your own two feet. He offered you his forearm to keep a hold on to steady yourself, he could tell your muscles were overworked, exhausted, and tightly tense.
Steve could feel the hand you kept hold of him with was shaking, as were your legs, and chattering jaw that you tried your hardest to clench shut.
Single handedly, he worked diligently to remove your personal defense weapons that lived in your leg holsters. Grabbing the gun and dagger, he reached behind him and quickly put them in the weapon safe by the door.
Then he led you to the couch and had you sit down, helping you on the way down. He quickly sank to his knees and his fingers untied the laces on your boots and pulled them off your feet before he got to work on removing all the black leather straps and buckles of the holsters on your legs.
He looked up at you momentarily just to make sure you didn't seem uncomfortable by how he was touching you, but your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly and your mind was so far away it felt like you weren't even in the room with him anymore.
"Relax your jaw, Buggy." Steve caught your attention with a small squeeze to your calf before going at the holster on your thigh.
"But it's chattering" You cried, relaxing it to prove it was rattling.
"That's okay, just let it happen." He reassured you.
You nodded, eyes still squeezed shut with occasional tears slipping past them.
"Let all your muscles relax, keep taking big breaths." His sweet voice guided you, moving on from your left leg to your right. "Remember that this pain is temporary, this is the worst of it right now and you're taking it like a champ. You're doing a good job."
Letting your eyes open, you watched him shove his phone between his shoulder and head, freeing both his hands to continue removing pieces of your suit. Then he started talking, throwing around commands, asking for necessary assistance to make sure your suit is properly cleaned and the hazardous substance would be responsibly handled.
At some point, your eyes closed again and you started feeling faint. He stood up, still on the phone and walked away for a moment then came back with a glass of water for you in one hand, and medicine in the other hoping it could at least help jumpstart the pain management.
Then, you heard something that made your eyes rip open.
"Hey Buck, yeah she's okay - in a lot of pain but she's going to be fine. Hey- can you do me a favor? Can you go into my apartment and grab me a change of clothes? Just a shirt and some sweatpants please? Thank you so much, I'll leave the door unlocked for you. See you soon."
You took in his appearance and realized you had completely destroyed his outfit. Smoke and soot had smeared all over his light grey shirt and the the top of his jeans. There was blood on his shoulder from your face, and wet spots from your tears.
"I'm so sorry." You cried, genuinely feeling bad about it. "I ruined your clothes!"
"I'm not worried about it" He denied your apology. "You're more important than a shirt."
"I'll buy you a new one." You shook your head.
"You have bigger fish to fry at the moment, Bug." Steve said sweetly. "Let's get you in the shower now. The faster this gets washed off of you the better."
Deep down Steve was really concerned about you, but he internalized it as to not freak you out. You seemed weak and unsteady on your own two feet, and your cries were still sad enough to make him want to cry for you.
"Help me up?" You asked, holding out your hands.
He took them without question and helped you off the couch before guiding you to the bathroom and starting the shower for you. Making sure it was not too cold to be uncomfortable, but not too hot to hurt your burns even more, he finally settled on the perfect temperature.
When Steve turned back around to let you know it was good to go, he was going to walk right out and let you shower in peace. That was until you started crying even harder just by trying to unbutton your pants. Every move you made was increasingly uncomfortable, and in that moment you both knew that showering alone wasn't an option.
The hot shocking pain and trauma of the three week long mission alone made letting Steve see you naked feel like just another drop in the bucket. You couldn't even get yourself to pretend to care, all of the insecurities and fears you'd typically have over this flew out of the window when you could see the genuine worry in his sweet blue eyes.
"Do you need help?"
"Can you please stay?"
Both of you asked almost shyly at the same time.
"Yes please."
"Of course"
You talked over each other once again.
Everything you could've possibly been worried about wasn't even a thought in Steve's mind when you asked him to stay. Although his heart warmed over the sentiment that you felt comfortable enough around him to ask in the first place, he wanted to make sure he maintained that same level of trust.
So he took the same approach he took before any training session he knew you were scared of, or any time he had to touch your body.
A simple one word question that he always expected a completely honest response to, it always went a long way.
So before he even helped you begin undressing, he asked it.
"Trust?" He questioned.
Whenever he asked you this, he wanted a percentage out of 100 to gauge how much trust you felt for him in that very moment. Whether he was about to catch you from two stories high, or send you off to do something new, he wanted to make sure you were confident enough in him as your partner. If you ever answered below a 90, that's when he would put a stop to everything and the two of your would talk it through until you felt comfortable and confident enough to execute the plan.
"100" you answered without question, your shaky hands trying their hardest to unzip your shirt.
Only after you responded did he start to undress you. His hands took over the zipper, and swiped it downward. When he helped you tug off the sleeves he was careful to not touch the inside of your suit to not get any of the substance on himself, but once your top was off, he could tell it was all caked onto your skin and no longer dry. "If that changes or you want me to leave at any point, you tell me, okay?"
"Okay." You nodded, feeling a slight relief as the cold air hit your back.
Piece by piece, he helped you get undressed and into the shower. He stood next to you the whole time, and as the water washed off the dirt and grime, he could see the extent of the damage on your back and he internally cringed.
"You poor thing, this looks so painful." Steve pouted. Though you were quite literally fully naked in front of him, he couldn't stop staring at the plane of your back. It was fire engine red, and your skin was definitely angry at the substance.
"Fury is going to be so mad at me." You sniffled, starting to feel like you could talk in complete sentences again.
"Why?" Steve asked, head tilting slightly.
"I should be at the mission debriefing." You explained.
"You we're injured, there are exceptions." Steve denied. "You know who Fury will actually be mad at? Harvey."
Just the mention of his name had your cry growing sadder by the moment. "Can I tell you something as a friend and not as a boss?"
Steve's face softened, and he nodded.
"He did it on purpose." You claimed with confidence as your fingers scrubbed shampoo into your hair. "The whole mission Harv and his friends were doing things to sabotage me and I kept getting hurt. I felt like I was going crazy, and it was already a really bad mission to be on in the first place. I feel so defeated and defenseless right now."
When you admitted that, his eyes went from your back to a big, black and blue bruise the side of his palm right on your rib cage.
"Harvey will be dealt with whether he did it on purpose or accident. He made a really stupid choice that obstructed the mission and got another agent hurt, the best agent we got." Steve explained. "They'll probably open an investigation and pull any footage they have and talk to some other witnesses to get their side of the story. If it's ruled that it was on purpose his punishment will be much worse than if it was an accident."
"They're just going to come after me even harder." You cried. "I don't know what I did so wrong that they decided that they needed to make my life a living hell. I try to be nice to everyone, I participate when I need to, I help them when they need help, and I even do the dirty work so nobody else has to. Everyone still hates me. Nobody cares if I get hurt."
Steve's broken heart impossibly shattered again. "Do you believe us when we tell you it's jealousy? The men here have tiny little ego's. They're fragile and insecure so when they see how great you are, they just want to knock you down any chance they get. It's not your fault."
"I don't feel like I'm the best one here." You finally denied in a moment of vulnerable weakness. You we're already naked, what damage could admitting your true feelings possibly do? "I don't even feel like I'm good at what I do in general."
"You may feel like that right now, but that's not fact. It's far from the truth." Steve denied your accusations against yourself. "You're meant to be an Avenger, we're all confident in that. That mission should've never been delegated to you guys. It should've gone to the Avengers, and even then it would've been hard for us. But I was watching the updates and statistics come through while you were gone. You single handedly held the operation together and led it to success with nothing but your own guidance. You're incredible, you even outperformed the Avengers."
You shook your head in denial before tipping it back and letting the water wash away the soapy lather in your beautiful silky hair. "I should be debriefing but instead I'm crying in the shower I can't even take by myself without being a hazard."
"They have tormented you so much that you believe crying is a sign of weakness." Undertones of disapproval soaked through his tone. "Their words have you believing that you're not good enough for this, yet I don't see any of them being good enough to do half of what you do."
"I don't know how to get it to stop." You sniffled. "If I don't fight back, they keep going. If I do fight back, they come at me twice as hard. If you don't say anything, they think it's okay. If you do yell at them, it just gets worse."
"Join the team." Steve stated simply, reaching out into the shower to swipe some smoke off your face that you missed.
"I'm tired, Stevie." You admitted with a sad cry. "Right now, I don't even know how I'm going to wake up and get myself to work as an agent tomorrow. I don't know how I can do this anymore, let alone be an Avenger."
"Exactly, you're tired and you're hurting." Steve validated. "Emotionally and physically, you're a human with with needs, none of which have been met in a very long time. You had your heart broken, and with no time to recover you had tosee Harvey every day for three weeks, then he hurt you even more. We'll get you some rest, some food, you'll get some time off work to make sure you heal up and recover. I promise you that you'll feel better."
"I sure hope so." You sniffled, washing the rest of the soap off now that you were squeaky clean. "Because right now, my heart is heavy and i feel defeated."
"Then let's take baby steps towards making you feel better, we'll start by making the heaviness a lot lighter." Steve offered you a hand to help you step out of the shower as you turned the water off. A hint of a smile poked through your pouted lips as he wrapped your fluffy towel around your body as carefully as he could as to not hurt your back anymore than it already did.
"Do you have to go back to work?" You asked sadly, not wanting to have to let go of the comfort he always provided you. "I really missed you while I was away."
"It's okay, I'll take the rest of the day off." Steve denied. "I missed you too, I was worried about you."
There was a small knock on the door before Bucky came in, and before either of you could even acknowledge his presence, both of your feet carried you towards him.
Bucky quickly handed Steve the clothes he brought for him, then all his attention was on you.
"Stay with her for a minute, I'm going to change really fast." Steve squeezed Bucky's shoulder out of gratitude.
You we're still slowly crying from the pain, and wrapped up in the towel like a little human burrito.
No words needed to be exchanged between you and your friend and he very carefully pulled you against his warm body for a long hug.
After Steve changed into the clothes Bucky brought him and walked back out into the living room to the scene of you being comfortably wrapped up in his arms as the two of you exchanged quiet words he could barely hear, he couldn't help the tiny pang of jealousy. He felt like a teenage boy who had no control over his emotions. He knew it was wrong, so he pushed it down just like he did all his other feelings towards you.
When Bucky noticed Steve was back, he mumbled an apology to you about needing to get back to work, and promised he would come by later to check up on you. And just as fast as he arrived, he left.
Steve helped you get dressed again, which was a struggle. But the two of you worked together to find a loose enough shirt to put on as to not hurt your back, super soft shorts, and definitely no bra to dig into your skin. But he already saw your boobs so there was no harm in that decision.
By the time you climbed into your own bed for the first time in weeks, and Steve got in next to you, a bit of relief washed over you. The tears came to an end and now you were nothing but stray sniffles and a little ball of frustration as you tried your hardest to get comfortable without laying on your back.
Steve wasn't quite sure how it happened, but you ended up half on your side-half on your stomach with your head in his lap and one of your legs hiked up. Once you were comfortable, he pulled up the back of your shirt to let the cool air hit the burn and to make sure the fabric wasn't irritating the area even more.
He could tell you were still in pain, so he comforted you by running his fingers through your hair. You soaked up every moment of the pleasant sensation, it gave you something to focus on other than the pain.
Single-handedly, he grabbed his phone and pulled up your profile on the music streaming app you downloaded onto his phone so you could create playlists together and share music. He picked a playlist you curated of all your favorite soothing songs and played it quietly for you.
Steve knew music was important to you, most of the time you had at least one airpod in your ear and you were always showing him new music. He loved listening to the songs you found good enough to share with him, and he loved sharing the experience of listening to music with you all because he knew it made you happy.
"Do you have a comfort movie or show?" Steve asked. "Or anything you do to help you fall asleep?"
"Yeah, I get into your bed." You mumbled out a joke, feeling completely drained. Your eyes didn't need to be open to know he was smiling.
"The faster we can get you to fall asleep, the better." He noted.
"Are you tired of me already?" You questioned, another joke.
"Absolutely not." Steve denied with a giggle. "If you fall asleep, you can get through a big chunk of the pain with no awareness to it."
"I was just on a mission for three weeks barely getting any sleep. Just give me a minute, I'll sleep like the dead."
"Why weren't you getting any sleep?" Steve questioned, continuing to rub your scalp.
"They kept assigning me to sleep next to Harvey no matter how many times I asked them to not do that." You explained. "Completely separate cots and sleeping bags and he still tried to get me to have sex with him every single night we were there. Every time I denied him he'd try to spark an argument then I'd get upset and just lay awake because I couldn't turn my brain off."
"He was trying to sleep with you after a whole day on the battlefield? After he said he could never be with someone like you?" Steve questioned. "Did he not break up with you? Is he not exhausted by the end of the day?"
"You'd think there would be significant logistical issues he would consider before trying to initiate but he didn't let anything get in his way." You agreed with Steve. "I have no plans of ever having sex with him again, and he thinks it's a game. Like I'll crumble and whither away without his dick."
"That sounds like a terrible situation you have to put up with everyday." Steve noted. "If I had to look at any of my ex girlfriends every day at work, let alone be on a mission with them for three weeks I don't think both of us would make it out alive, and they would be the ones surviving every time."
You sleepily giggled at his words. "It is pretty terrible, but I'm hoping he will realize soon that there's better dick to be had elsewhere. I'm horny, but never horny enough to have sex with him ever again."
"Wow, you're so strong." Steve laughed. "That was really philosophical."
"I know right?" Your lazy smile stretched.
"If he's making you lose sleep, that's just more proof he's obstructing agents from reaching the objective." Steve noted.
You hummed in agreement, letting the heaviness in your heart and mind settle and the exhaustion in your body take over.
A few moments of silence passed before Steve broke it, his thoughts becoming too loud to keep to himself. "...I really can't imagine getting it up after a whole 12 hour day of fighting... don't think I could ever do that..."
Your smile reappeared. "That's because you actually do your job and you do it well. Harvey just kind've stands there and pretends to be helping. No person in their right mind would be able to get it up after a real day of battle."
"Wow, so you're finally in the phase of admitting that he's bad at what he does." Steve noted.
"Yeah, well, I'm infuriated that we work ourselves to the point of exhaustion and he's just walking around with the audacity to have a hard dick all the time." You noted. "He deserves a life of erectile disfunction, I deserve the audacity of a post mission stiffy."
"See, this is the kind of fire I've been trying to ignite in you this whole time!" Steve enthused. "Who knew that all it would take was a metaphorical boner?"
"Relax, I'm not hard enough yet to hop over the the Avengers." Your voice was getting raspier and quieter by the second, making Steve melt into a puddle. "Give me a little more time, maybe I'll get there eventually."
"Have you tried viagra?" Steve joked.
"Have you?"
"Is your back feeling any better?"
"Why are you deflecting?" You sleepily smiled.
"Sweet dreams, Bug." He covered your eyes with the palm of his hand. "Hope you feel so much better when you wake up."
You grabbed his wrist and directed his hand to the top of your head before letting it go, and snuggling up in the blankets the very best you could. "Thanks for coming to my rescue, Stevie. I love and appreciate you lots."
"Anytime, I love you more."
You dozed off not to long after, and fell into a sleep so deep that you felt like you had woken up in a whole different world. Your phone was ringing, and there was no longer any light seeping through your bedroom window curtains.
Judging by your door being cracked open with lights pouring through and footsteps walking around, you could tell Steve was still in your apartment. Reaching around blindly for your phone, your hand found it and answered the call.
A smile stretched across Steve's face when he heard your sweet, sleepy voice coming from your room. He could tell you were talking to family, so he waited a while until he could hear the conversation wrapping up to come check on you.
It took about fifteen minutes, but he finally came in and turned the light on as he heard some goodbyes.
"I love you so much, Buddy! I'll come see you this week okay? Maybe in a day or two." Your smile was uncontrollable. "No, I cannot bring iron man with me. Am I not cool enough for you anymore?"
Steve raised an eyebrow at you when you looked up at him with a giggle. You motioned for him to stay quiet, then put it on speaker phone.
A tiny little voice came through, and Steve immediately remembered all of the times you told him about your five year old nephew that lived with your sister not too far from the compound.
“What about Captain America?" He questioned.
"I don't know Captain America!" You denied, looking Steve dead in the eye. You laughed as Steve's jaw dropped in response to your antics.
"Yes you do! Mommy showed me a picture of you and Captain America!" He giggled.
"No, that's not Captain America, that's my friend Steve." You joked.
"That's Captain America's name!" Your nephew defended himself.
"No way, really? That must be a coincidence."
"What is your friend Steve's last name?" He questioned.
"I'm not really sure, I'll have to ask him next time I see him." Steve shook his head at you with a mischievous smile while sitting on the edge of your bed. "What is Captain America's last name?"
"Rogers! How do you not know that!?" The boy laughed over the phone. "Don't you work with these people?!"
"I dunno, maybe you should be an Avenger. You know a lot more about this stuff than I do."
"Okay I'm ending this conversation before my son tries to break into the compound and steal Captain Roger's shield." Your sister took the phone away from the five year old.
"Did you hear that Steve? If your shield goes missing, we have a suspect." You told him.
"Oh god... is Captain Rogers in the room with you right now?" Your sister questioned with a sigh.
"No, she's talking to herself. She's kind've crazy." Steve denied earning a laugh from the other side of the phone.
"Tell me about it! I've had to deal with her all my life!" She laughed. "I'll let you go now, Smalls. I'm glad you're okay, let me know if you need anything. Also feel free to come over whenever you want. You know Luca loves you more than anyone in the world, we would take good care of you if you need it."
"Thank you! And thanks for checking up on me, sorry you got that alert, that must've been scary."
"It's okay, I'm just glad you're alright. Stay safe, I'll see you soon."
"See you soon" you agreed before hanging up.
"You're gaslighting a child?" Steve questioned.
"He knows it's a joke." You denied with a tired giggle. "Luca is obsessed with the Avengers but especially you. If I ever actually admitted to him that were close friends he would lose his mind and never leave us alone."
"But he's so cute! You should bring him to the compound and give him a tour!" He enthused.
"I think he would actually combust." You sat up. "Maybe one day, but my Sister doesn't think he's ready for that yet."
"What's her name?"
"Jane, she's four years older than me." You explained. "She called me in a panic because she's my emergency contact. I think Commander Bennett added an injury report to my file so it sent her an automated phone call that I got hurt in battle. It scared the daylight out of her."
"I don't blame her." Steve shook his head. "Thats one of the worst phone calls to ever receive."
"It really is" you agreed. "What time is it?"
"7:30 pm." He grinned. "How are you feeling?"
"A lot better. It just feels like a really bad sunburn now." You explained. "I still feel pretty beat up from the mission though."
Steve nodded his head in understanding. "I got an email from Bennett, you were cleared from the roster for the rest of the week. So you'll start work again on Monday. Oh, also, someone from the hazard team came and picked up your suit to clean it. They reported back to be about an hour ago that it wasn't salvageable so weaponry is making you a new one. Should be done by the time you get back to work on Monday."
"Thank you, Stevie, you're the best." You smiled.
"Ugh, I know right?" He joked, back flopping right next to you.
"I take it back." You laughed, gently flicking his head.
"Fine. Next time, call Bucky." Steve joked.
Your laugh got louder and you shook your head. "Bucky would've left me on the Jet floor to beat the shit out of Harvey."
"Exactly my point." Steve settled with amusement.
"Speaking of Bucky, do we know where he is right now?"
"Probably beating the shit out of Harvey"
"You boys are exhausting." You sign smiled.
"But you love it." Steve pointed out, poking your cheek.
"I do." You admitted.
Comfortable silence fell over the two of you, nothing significant was running through your mind, but you could tell Steve's mind was running around one thought and one thought only.
"... You're hungry aren't you?" You questioned rhetorically, already knowing the answer.
"How could you tell?" He turned his head to look at you with a big beaming smile on his face.
"I know you like the back of my hand, Rogers."
He hummed in agreement. "You're hungry too."
"How could you tell?"
"Because your stomach was growling in your slee- I mean... because I know you so well!"
"Food?"
"Food." He agreed.
"Alright, let's go big guy." You pat his shoulder twice. "You saw me naked today so now I get to wine and dine you."
"Bug!" He barked out a laugh, and his cheeks immediately turned a pretty shake of pink. "Don't you even start with me!"
“Oh, and by the way, if you tell anyone you’ve ever seen me naked, I’ll beat you to a pulp faster than any other agent in the compound gets the chance to call me a whore.”
“Yes ma’am.”
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Next part: Expendable
Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @ynstark @dbnightingale24
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crazyunsexycool · 2 months
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A love as sweet as honey
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Coming soon… series taglist open, comment to be added. 18+ minors DNI
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
A/N: this series is set in the My little love universe and after the events of that story. While you don’t have to read it there are characters from that fic that will definitely make an appearance or will be important parts of this fic!
Prologue
Extras: snack time
The friendship you had with Steve Rogers was odd. At least to you it was. Steve was well liked, social, kind, friendly and always there to lend a helping hand. You saw it in the way he cared for his best friends’ kids or how he looked after the team. On the other hand you weren’t too much of a people person. You preferred solitude, were easily annoyed by others and most people would describe you as a grump. Yet these differences didn’t stop the friendship from blossoming. It didn’t stop your attraction either.
That attraction combined with alcohol and loneliness lead to the one thing you never thought possible. A one night stand with Steve Rogers. You thought it would be one night and done but you were wrong. A few weeks later and a fainting spell later you get the news that you’re pregnant. The news turned your world upside down. You had to tell Steve but you weren’t sure what his reaction would be. More than that what will happen with the baby? Will you have to fight to stay in his or her life? What will Steve think of all of it? Does he even want kids?
Steve likes you. Even if you try and hide behind this wall of solitude you've built. He can see right through it. The trust issues, how you’ve been burned before. None of that stops his growing affection for you. So when you both get drunk and wake up naked, he’s slightly shocked but mostly glad it was you. Then you tell him the best news anyone could have ever given him. He was going to be a dad. Will you finally let that wall down and let him in? Will you finally stop pushing him away? What if this was just a ploy to create another super baby that can be used as a weapon?
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅
I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.
find part 1 here.
summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.
warning - angst, death.
the gif and header I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.
You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 
Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.
It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 
“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 
“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 
Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.
“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 
“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”
“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 
“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 
And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 
“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 
Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.
“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 
“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 
Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 
You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 
He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.
“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 
You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
part 3
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anika-ann · 4 months
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Back and Forth - masterlist
Pairing: Steve Rogers x agent! Inhuman!reader
Type: enemies-ish to lovers series
Summary: Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.
However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other – or at least you’re trying, your back and forth visibly annoying your colleagues and exhausting you both.
And then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?
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Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, mentions of Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson and few others
Setting: slight AU 'cause everyone lives thank you very much, no Civil War or further, references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D without a fixed timeline
Warnings: besides canon-typical violence, this series deals with topics which might be trigerring for some people - please, read with caution and resposibility
Playlist 🎵 (NEW)
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STORYLINE:
Prologue 
Part 1 
Part 2 
Part 3.1 // Part 3.2
Part 4.1 // Part 4.2 
Part 5 
Part 6
Part 7
Epilogue
Number of parts/chapters is estimated. Did I add one extra already? Yeah, but shhh
Dividers by firefly-graphics, moodboard by me - and created for the vibes, for it does not necessarily reflect the reader's appearance.
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Taglist open 🥰
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angrythingstarlight · 2 years
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Which of the mafia/biker boys would most likely let you play with their rings on their hand if you felt nervous or shy
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Pairing: Biker!Steve x Shy!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, the beginnings of a praise kink....
A/N: Unbetad drabble
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You didn’t realize what you were doing the first time you rolled his demon skull ring around his finger.
Four times to the left, five to the right.
In your defense, most of your focus and energy were honed in other things-remembering how to breathe, trying not to fidget, hoping that the sweat beading across your hairline isn’t too obvious, and telling yourself that everything was going to be fine.
Steve heard about your upcoming interview, the one that would give you a much-needed scholarship, so maybe you wouldn’t have to work so many hours at the bookstore and diner.
He offered to sit with you during the interview. Just to the side. Close enough to comfort you with his presence while being out of view of your webcam.
As you waited for the people to appear on your screen because, of course, it had to be a group interview, Steve placed his hand next to yours. Palm up. Not grabbing. Not taking. A silent offer for you to hold his hand; if you wanted to.
And yes, yes you do.
Wordlessly you placed your hand on his larger one, tracing over his work-worn calluses, the pads of your fingertips learning each ridge and line of his skin. Focusing on the contrast of his warm skin and cold metal rings as you inhale through your nose.
You can’t explain why, but the way he gives you control grounds you, and makes it that much easier to breathe.
Four times to the left, five to the right.
The tension that always seems to worm its way into the center of your chest relaxes and when the first face appears, you’re not scared. Still a little nervous, but not terrified. Because you’re not alone. You have someone at your side. You have Steve.
And every time you stumble over your words or you take a second too long to cobble the right answer together and the awkward silence mounts, clawing at your nerves, he squeezes your fingers, telling you he’s still here, still by your side.
Four times to the left, five to the right.
By the time the interview is over, you’ve spoken more in one hour than you have in the past two days. You’ll find out in a week if you got the scholarship, but judging by the way their sincere goodbyes and comments about you being an asset to your program, you feel good about your chance.
Four times to the left, five to the right.
You’re on the fifth rotation when you realize what you’re doing, Steve’s gaze follows yours down to your joined hands. His thumb brushes over your skin and he leans in, slow and sure, his other hand tipping your chin up.
“I’m so proud of you, I want to know that.” His voice melts into your skin like cherry bourbon. “You were amazing and I’ve never been so damn impressed in my life.” His praise blooms inside you, unfurling into a pool of heat.
“Th-thank you.”
You swallow, instinctively ducking your head, shying away from him but he still has a loose hold on your face so he leans down a little more, crystal blue eyes gazing into yours. “You don’t ever have to hide from me, I like seeing every part of you Dove.”
You don’t know how to respond to that, words seem out of your grasp. Steve knows. So he takes your hand off the diner table, kisses the back of it, and slides out of the old booth.
“I gotta tell the guys how smart my girl is,” he says with a wink, biting back a grin at your soft gasp. Damn does he love it when you’re this cute and flustered. “I’ll stop by after your shift, okay?”
You give him a shaky nod, the heat in your belly rushes up your chest to your cheeks, even after he strolls out of the diner and drives off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake, you hear his deep voice in your head. My girl. He called you his girl.
You don’t know how to respond to that either. But you have a feeling that Steve will be more than happy to help you work through all these burgeoning emotions.
Falling for Steve is going to be the most exhilarating and terrifying experience of your life and for once, you can’t wait to see what happens.
Because deep down, underneath your anxiety, your fears, your self doubts, you know he could be the best thing to happen to you, if you let him in.
And for once, you know you will. 
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jen-with-a-pen · 5 months
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⊹-୨୧-⊹𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⊹-୨୧-⊹
⊹–SUMMARY–⊹ Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?
⊹–PAIRINGS–⊹ Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!F!Reader
⊹–WARNINGS–⊹ more to be added as series progresses frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear The warnings listed here are not exhaustive but generally encapsulate the series as a whole and do not represent every single chapter. Please be mindful and read the chapter warnings!
Read this fic on AO3!
any art featured in the series title header and story-specific dividers was found on pinterest and is used in good faith. all credit goes to the original artists, as i could not find accurate credit for any. collage done by me
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Spam liking my works will result in an automatic block!
ALL TIED UP: STEVE'S WEEK
–⊹– One: Saturday, currently.
–⊹– Two: Last Monday.
–⊹– Three: Last Tuesday.
–⊹– Four: Last Wednesday.
–⊹– Five: Last Thursday.
–⊹– Six: Saturday, still.
–⊹– Seven: Last Friday.
–⊹– Eight: Saturday, again.
–⊹– Nine: Saturday, again.
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sweetsbfreex · 2 years
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mafia/gang!dad!steve masterlist
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a/n: I did make sure to make the banner inclusive, because it isn't hard and all authors should strive to do so <3 if you've seen my post: making sure my writing and anything involving it is inclusive and never trumps your thought process is rlly important to me!
summary: follow the life of y/n, Elysia, and Steve (a mafia/gang leader trying to be the best dad he can be!)
warnings: everything is all fluff!!, allusion to sex (never descript), some talk of trauma, blood, alcohol, etc.
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in order of release date:
the super seller patch: elysia crashes her father's meeting to get her super seller patch!
mafia daycare: y/n has an event to get to last minute, so steve has to take care of his daughter at work
those pesky sugar bugs!: "thinking about how all the moms r prolly drooling over mafia steve when he’s out with his daughter and he’s completely oblivious" or steve takes his daughter to the dentist!
the binky fairy: elysia has finally been weaned off her binky...or at least she was
date night: "..I would love to see mafia!steve and reader have a date night and be so suave and flirtatious. Meanwhile Elysia is running rings around the babysitter, and when the couple come back she’s all cute and tucked up" + "a mafia Steve hc with the “wear whatever u want I can fight”
snack and a show: pregnancy is taking a larger toll on y/n as she comes closer to the birth of their first. thankfully, Steve’s good looks can help that!
drunk and obsessed: a little something about a drunk steve
the binky fairy (pt 2): part two of the binky fairy!! Steve is in the doghouse, how will he fix it?
full masterlist
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whereireid · 1 year
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 - 2/2
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
pairing: dark!ex-boss!steve rogers x fem!reader
WORDCOUNT: 4.6k warnings: dubious consent ! - sexually naive reader, rough p in v, oral sex [m + f receiving] - height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader] -, misogyny, sexism: breeding kinks -daddy kink, captain kink. choking, pregnant!reader: spanking, gaslighting- especially shein at the end LOL - emotional abuse, assimilation, kidnapping slight mention - steve gets his happy ending
PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS CONTENT IS CONSIDERED MATURE. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.
summary: Once Captain America's assistant, you're now the up-coming mother of his child. After Steve's jealousy finally becomes out of hand, you snap at him, only to realise that's the very last thing you should do to a Super Soldier. He decides that your defiance lights a match to spark the fire of you being a brilliant mother.
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It’s not like Steve to get this riled up. It’s just difficult watching you discuss initiative with a rookie rather than paying attention to him. He watches as your small hand falls down to brush over your stomach, wondering if your fingers splay over it as a means to reassure yourself that the baby growing inside of you is okay.
Jealousy isn’t a good look on Steve. He’s not a complete airhead - he knows dames usually don’t like it when a man gets stupidly possessive and starts trying to control them, but he just can’t help it. You’re his - literally. Not only are you literally his personal assistant, but you’re also his fiancé and the mother of his child.
“Sweetheart, don’t you think it’s time we get home now?” His voice booms across the training room, his thick hands coming up to massage your shoulders softly. “This much standing can’t be too good for the baby.”
You're terrible at analysis, Steve realizes. You hadn't even noticed he had approached you - evident by how his touch makes you flinch. He feels your nerves jolt beneath him, but to the regular human eye, nothing appears wrong. Steve admits that you’ve grown incredibly wary of his touch recently, only engaging in displays of affection when around other people. In the comfort of your shared home, though, it’s like when he touches you, your body slithers with disgust.
“I am growing slightly tired.” You throw an apologetic smile over at the rookie you were speaking to, all whilst leaning into Steve's touch willingly. He doesn’t miss the prickles of goosebumps that ripple up your skin, the fear which prickles at the back of your neck. He frowns - has his touch ever been unloving, unkind? “I think it’s best I go home and rest up."
Your mutter a few apologies, which forces an eye roll from Steve. Why are you apologizing to people who aren't even worth your time? Frustrated, he begins to steer you out of the compound quickly, irritated as you shuffle away from his touch as though his mere skin is poison.
The drive back to your shared home is silent. Steve is seething as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are beginning to turn white. He’s tried to be patient and understanding - he really has. But he’s blessed you and he doesn’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on rejecting him and then repenting as though he's a curse. You’re throwing tantrums similarly to what a toddler would, sitting next to him in silence and stewing in unspoken anger, and Steve can’t help but feel slightly hurt by your actions.
Is he not good enough for you? Is that it? Or have you grown tired of him? He has been more than kind, allowing you to still attend work despite the fact you’re growing his child. He has bent and adapted so you do not break, shrugging away every single urge to force tradition upon you.
Perhaps what you need is a sense of tradition. Maybe that will stop the fiery defiance you display, both in public and at home.
“We’re home.” Steve’s voice booms loudly in the car, and you stir from your position, your eyes fluttering open at him.
“Good. I’m tired,” you sigh heavily, forcing yourself out of the car quickly before Steve could come around and open your door for you. “Today’s been exhausting.”
“How so?” Steve almost sneers, grabbing your bag from the car and slamming the driver’s side door shut loudly. “All you do all day is make appointments for me and flirt with other men. It can’t be that difficult.”
You groan, waiting for Steve to unlock the front door before following him into your home. “I don’t flirt with other men, Steve. Stop being so delusional."
You drawl his name out with such annoyance it makes Steve’s jaw twitch. “Really? So you weren't all over that rookie earlier today?” He turns away in annoyance, flicking the light to the living area on. The house keys sway in his fingers, and he chuckles dryly, “give me a break, sweetheart. You were practically begging him to fuck you.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing exasperatedly. “So what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?" Your hands fall to your stomach, holding it protectively whilst staring at him with furrowed brows.
Holding something he made.
He stills. “Excuse me?”
The calmness in Steve’s tone makes your blood run cold. You try to ignore how he stops still in the archway of the living area; how his large frame tenses and his fists clench. You suddenly feel as though all the air has been sucked out of the room, and you stumble out (in one last act of pitiful defiance), “so what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?“
The drawl of his name is what finally makes him snap. It’s like he sees red - like he can’t believe how you’re actually treating him, despite everything that he’s done for you. Steve’s palm is quickly splayed across your throat, and he growls, sounding similar to that of a wild animal as he begins to try and force you to your knees.
It's not like you don't go down without a fight. You try to resist, somewhat, anyway, but you can’t, because he is so, so much stronger than you are and it’s fucking scary. His hands are so strong that they diminish any force of fight you had within you, as trying to resist him makes you actually feel like your shoulders are going to snap. You whimper pathetically as you kneel before him, staring up at his pupils, which are blown and blackened.
You know better than to irritate him by now, so why do you keep doing it?
“You’re mine,” Steve snaps, his blue eyes icy as he pulls his zipper down. The sharp noise makes you flinch beneath him, trying to shuffle away, but the grip he has on the nape of your neck is tight and holds you in place. “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’d ever let another man touch you. If you think I’ll ever let another man look at you again without consequence.”
His fingers grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open and you cry out. Steve is visibly angry - furious is perhaps a better word, given the fact he’s practically shaking as grips your face whilst also aggressively pulling his thick, hard cock out of his boxers. “You’re going to have to learn how to put that mouth of yours to better use, doll. It's wasted on those shitty opinions of yours, anyway."
Hands roughly grabbing at your hair, pulling your face towards his cock, you have not much choice but to take him in your mouth. It’s intrusive - terribly so, and Steve manhandles you so roughly it makes your tears prick with tears, but it shamefully sends a throbbing to your pussy. You clench your legs together as you take him, choking as he slides in and out of your mouth until you’re a blubbering mess below him, spit and tears painting your cheeks as he fucks your throat relentlessly.
“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out, pulling so hard at your hair your head pulses. Steve’s hips stutter as you choke around him, your eyes doe-like and wide, covered in wet mascara. “Who the fuck do you belong to?”
“Y-you, Steve,” you choke out as he pulls out of your mouth with an uncomfortable POP!, relishing in the breaths he’s allowing you. “I belong to you.”
Steve's cock is so big it's actually painful. Your throat constricts around his cock as he forces your head down again, grumbling out, “I bet that rookie couldn’t treat you like this. I bet he couldn’t fuck you full of his babies like I have, doll.”
You whine beneath him as he continues to use your throat. Steve is driven entirely by his own pleasure, tiring quickly of your pathetic crying around his cock. With angry thrusts of his hips, Steve watched you gag around him, his cock twitching in your throat as you take all of him in; every inch, and his length is actually somewhat visible in your neck. And it’s driving him crazy- so crazy that he can’t hold back anymore, his rough hands grasping at your hair as he finishes, painting your tongue with his cum.
Steve watches as you choke and thrash against him in an attempt to get away, because his cock and his cum is stuffing your mouth in ways it’s never been stuffed before. It’s suffocating you, and blackness pricks at the corner of your vision - you’re just about to pass out before you Steve mercifully pulls his cock out of your mouth with a disgusting squelch and delivers you a hard slap.
The stinging from his hand sends a sheepish insatiable throbbing to your core that you know will never be satisfied. The tingle which tickles your core makes you clench your thighs, knowing no matter how hard you repent, tonight he will not forgive you.
“This throat is mine to use,” he seethes, his tip still leaking as he presses his cock against your cheek, satisfied with the discomfort that flutters throughout your features. “Say it.”
“This throat is yours to use,” your bottom lip quivers, your eyes spilling tears, some of which fall on Steve’s cock. And it’s shameful how wet you are - how the heat between your legs has grown uncomfortable and how you’re certain your pussy is slick with arousal because somehow it’s all you can focus on. You melt into a weeping puddle, your hands tiny compared to Steve’s cock, desperately trying to push his length away during your tantrum.
It doesn’t work. If anything, it makes him much so much harder - his cock throbs against the skin of your face, and you sniffle as he speaks. “Good girl,” Steve’s praises, his fingers curling in your hair, watching as your eyebrows contort in pain as he tugs gentler than you deserve. “Look at your pretty little face. Covered all over with cum and tears.” He coos, smoothing your hair down gently, a soft pang of love throbbing within his heart.
Your face flushes red, and you blink up, your wet, long lashes batting up at him ridiculously. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, your throat incredibly sore from his invasion, your hands desperately clasping at his thighs, and he watches you in amusement, unable to bite back the excitement as you brush your lips over his length meekly. “Please forgive me, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know if I can, honey,” he tells you, his big hands making gentle, loving motions in your hair. It’s a sharp contrast to the aggressiveness of his touch moments beforehand, but you bask in it nonetheless. “You were flirting with that rookie, baby, you said you wanted to fuck him. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him!” you whine, and Steve shakes his head.
“That’s what I heard, baby.”
You sniffle, and Steve shakes his head. Why do you have to lie to him? He doesn’t like making you upset - he certainly doesn’t like hurting you. His pretty girl, sitting in front of him with raw, red knees and an even rawer throat, whose ass is yet to be spanked until the pain renders you unable to move. He hates it, and he wishes this pain on nobody, especially not his little girl. Steve is meant to protect you, not hurt you. He’s your saviour, the one man in your life you can rely on and trust with all of your secrets, and yet you lie to him, again and again and again.
Steve hates making you upset, but he loves watching you cry. Conflict tugs at him from the inside, his thumb making gentle strokes in your hair as you speak to him. “I’m sorry, I really am,” you finally say, sinking beneath him obediently. “I didn’t mean any of it. It’s - its probably just the hormones.”
Steve hums in agreement. “It probably is, doll, but just in case it isn’t…I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” He sucks in a breath, muttering, “let’s see how sorry you really are, doll.”
It takes everything in Steve not to finish all over again when he pulls you atop of him and you gasp in shock, his big hands forcing your hips down, and before you’re even aware of it, your walls are sheathed around his cock. Tight - so tight, and wet, too: ridiculously so. Shameful squelching sounds flood the living room as Steve fucks up into you with long, even thrusts.
The mewls that escape your throat as your small fingers dig into Steve's frame makes him want to impregnate you al over again. If he could, he would - your pussy is addicting, gripping him just right. You’re like Goldilocks. Your walls are so tight that you're practically milking his cock for his cum -, and he bites your neck slightly as you shake and tremble against him, your first orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Hot flashes come over you as your core tightens, the coil inside of you snapping- your little legs shake and you hold onto Steve for support, who rides you through your orgasm.
“This pussy is mine,” he practically growls, his fingers clawing around your throat, palm splayed against it uncomfortably. You thrash wildly when he squeezes, but Steve doesn’t care: you don’t deserve him, not at all, not one bit - he is Captain America! He can do what he wants!
“This pussy is yours,” you rasp as his cock nestles against the spongy spot inside of your pussy, your hips desperately rolling to get any source of friction. “Please, Steve! It’s all yours! Wanna cum again! Wanna cum!”
As you cry desperately, your frame pressing up against his, Steve grins, thrusting up into you painfully slow. The motion is enough, though. It sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, and your coil tightens - it grows tighter every single time he moves, the brush of his cock against the insanely sensitive spot inside of you making your legs quiver.
“You love it. I know you love it, sweetheart. Being filled with my baby. It makes you real wet, doesn’t it, doll?" His voice is gentle, and he peppers soft kisses against your neck, eradicating the pain he had left behind earlier.
"Mhm. I love it and I love you, Steve," you agree eagerly, your hands digging into his shoulders, your timid body taking every slow, dragged thrust of his. “I’m so close.”
Your whimpers make his cock twitch inside of you. You sound heavenly - angelic, the gentle moans that slip past your lips making him wish he could just give you his baby all over again. And he will, after you’ve had this one - god, he can’t wait to pump you full of his babies again and again and again. Steve's hands grip your hips gently, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls squeeze him again, so soft and perfect, and he lets out a hearty moan which makes the knot inside of you tighten.
"I want it," you whimper, your nose brushing against his, and you gaze up at him through wet lashes. “Please.”
Your begging makes Steve bloom with pride, and at your words, he thrusts up into you harder. It's not long before you're bouncing quickly atop him, mewls and cries of pleasure slipping past your lips. Your curls fall messily in front of your eyes, and he sucks in a breath at the ecstatic state of you: you’re desperate - so close to your edge, again. Your cheeks are warm and messy, and the sounds of slick bouncing off of the living room walls makes you feel more cockdrunk than you already are.
And then you begin to come undone atop of him.
He does, too. Steve loves it. Your velvet walls squeeze him so tightly that you’re milking him - you take in every drop of his cum, and as his hips still inside of you, Steve places gentle kisses against your nose.
Your big, beautiful eyes stare back at him, your hips juddering against his. You pant, your nails digging into his chest as you steady yourself atop of him. For a second, you can’t believe it - you really let Steve use you again.
But he loves you. And then conflict tugs at you all over again, because he is a good guy, incredibly so! He’s Captain America, his job is literally to protect you - and hasn’t he done exactly that? You’re the most protected person in America right now, considering the fact you’re pumped full of his babies.
“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”
You nod. “I- I do, Steve.” Your voice trembles, leaning your body weight against his, unable to hold yourself up.
“Good girl.” He brushes his nose against yours, smiling as you tremble against him. “That’s all you’ll ever have to do.”
As Steve carries you to bed, tucking you in tightly, he smiles down at you. He’s glad he’s finally changed the locks, and he’s glad that you don’t have one of the new keys.
He can keep you here now until he thinks you’re ready to go. Until you’re ready to accept your place as Mrs. America.
What you used to call kidnapping, Steve called assimilation.
You’re not locked in his house, unable to go home, unable to contact any family or friends. No, you’re just in an educational program, learning how to be a perfect housewife. That’s what Steve says, anyway, snickering away to himself as he does.
It’s lonely, and it’s scary. Yet you have nothing to fear, especially when Steve comes home. He wraps you in his arms, engulfing you in his scent, pressing you against his brawny body as though you’re his world. You breathe him in, clutching at him desperately, thankful that he’s coming home safe and sound.
It’s been so long the thought of escaping no longer even brushes your thoughts, but still, Steve wonders if you have realised your place. He can’t risk letting you out if you haven’t - but then again, who would believe you? A pregnant woman whose husband represents all of the stars and stripes?
Still, he can’t help but worry about you. Have you assimilated? Have you learnt? It’s a question that Steve isn’t sure of the answer, but as you curl into his big frame, he believes that you have. Perhaps you’ve finally learnt it’s easier to comply with the Captain’s orders than to defy them.
“How has your day been, Steve?” you ask, nudging your head into the corner of his neck as he presses his palms against your stomach. He’s big and warm, comforting and strong, peppering gentle kisses against your face, praising you for being such a gorgeous girl.
You’re bulging now. Practically ready to give birth at any second. It sends a gentle ache to Steve’s length, his lips pressing lovingly against your stomach. He loves coming home to you. He always has, even when you defied him and cried and begged him to just treat you like a colleague again. It’s selfish - Steve knows it’s selfish - but he just couldn’t ever go back to not knowing you. Now that he has you, he can’t let you go. Ever.
“Work was fine. Buck and I had to do introduction training with some rookies. They didn’t even leave a scratch.” Steve laughs, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants, tugging them down slightly so your entire stomach is on display. “How was your day, mama? Productive?”
It is slightly distracting as Steve kisses your belly. You scrunch your eyebrows in concentration, your fingers resting in his blond locks. “I painted some of the nursery.” You say shyly, face flushing as he begins to murmur sweet nothings to your stomach. “Just did the trims. There was a few deliveries that came, too, but they were too heavy for me to move. Didn’t wanna hurt myself.”
“Good girl.” Steve’s breath fans against your stomach, his head nestling against you, his hands tugging your sweatpants down some more. “I’ll move them after dinner, get ‘em all sorted,” he tells you, eyes eagerly trained in on your panties as your sweatpants drop to the floor.
It takes everything in him not to let an audible groan crawl out of his mouth. The panties you’re wearing are lacy and baby pink - similar to the ones you wore the first time he fucked you, and it sends another terrible ache to his cock. You squeal as Steve presses a soft kiss to your clothed pussy, and he can hear how quickly your heart begins to race in your chest.
“Steve - Steve, stop, I have a question. Steve, it’s serious!” He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes which glisten with mischief. You almost don’t want to ask because he seems so giddy - but then you have caught him in a good mood, so you’ll risk it anyway. Your heart tightens in your chest, and your lips set into a frown when you ask, “I was wondering - uh, when I have our baby - could I - could I go back to work?”
Steve reacts like you’ve just slapped him across the face. His smile drops, and his eyebrows furrow. Just when he thinks you've learned, when he thinks he’s finally flushed you out of this ridiculous twenty-first-century feminist bullshit, it drags you back in.
A woman’s place is not at work. It’s in the home.
"Why do you need to work when you have me?" Steve's voice is eerily calm, and his stubble brushes against your inner thigh. You still against him, tense as your fingers stop in his hair, and he can hear your heart gently racing in your chest.
"It's - it's just something I'd like to do. To keep myself occupied."
Steve groans, rubbing his nose into your skin. "You will be occupied, doll. You'll have a baby to raise."
You gnaw at your lip. Steve’s eyes are intense, and he tries not to bark out an order for you to stop. gnawing on your lips. He despises it when you do that. “We could always get a babysitter so I could go back to work,” you suggest, voice faltering when you notice his eyes darken slightly.
"No. It is your job as a mother to look after our children, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I don’t trust anybody else to raise them.”
"Steve-"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Steve grunts from below you, his blue eyes darkening as he gazes up at you. "In fact, I don't want this mentioned again - ever - do I make myself clear?"
“Steve-“
“Do I make myself clear?”
You pout, nodding silently, and Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. His cool breath fans against your thigh, and his thumb doesn’t stop brushing your stomach. He wonders where he ever went wrong with you. You’ve been so good recently, and he ponders on why you have to ruin it. Steve thinks you do it on purpose, rile him up as a way to show one last act of fiery defiance.
He’ll be the bigger person today.
“I can work for us. I can provide for us. Your job as my personal assistant is irrelevant now that you’re carrying our baby.” Steve peppers another gentle kiss against your clothed pussy, and you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, gently beginning pulling them down. “You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything you’ve ever needed. Put your faith in me, doll, that’s all I ask.”
“Okay, Steve.” Your throat feels tight when you swallow, your knees buckling slightly as Steve’s tongue licks a stripe up your pussy. It sends you by surprise - a hot white flash shoots up through your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair.
“You're soaking, doll,” he murmurs as he parts your thighs with his hands, pressing gentle kisses against your heat. It does feel good - Steve's entire focus is you, and he gently rolls his tongue against your nub, circling his tongue from your clit to your hole and then back up to your clit. "Do you just love the thought of having my babies and taking care of them, baby? Does it get you as riled up as it does me?”
It's embarrassing that Steve's words make your pussy throb. It's even more embarrassing that he knows, a satisfied smirk painting his lips as he dips his tongue into your sweet nectar again. His tongue darts around your clit, and your knees wobble slightly at the action, your hands gripping onto him for support. "Roll against my face, baby, it's okay. I know you want to." His words of encouragement make you mewl, and you do just that - roll your hips against his face, your vision going starry as his tongue swirls against your clit perfectly, the stimulation making the knot in your stomach tighten.
"Steve," you whimper out, your eyes fluttering shut as your legs wobble, his large hands coming up to hold them in place. The feeling of his fingers darting across your thighs sends butterflies to your stomach, and you whine as his tongue keeps flicking against you, making sure to hit every angle of yours he knows that you like.
You hate how much he knows you. You hate how he knows that you're about to cum as your legs give way. Steve hums, the vibrations sending shocks to your pussy, your fingers curling in his hair, the grip tight. You see stars, and hot flashes shoot through you - the knot inside of you tightens and tightens until you feel it snap, to which you cry out, flooding Steve's face with your wetness. And he loves it - he fucking loves it, soothing praises escaping his lips as he quite literally licks your clean, his fingers rubbing soft circles on your thighs.
It's terrible how much you ache when he pulls away from you, how much you miss the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your pussy. Steve stands, his head nestling in your neck, his hands rubbing smooth circles against your stomach. You pant against him, still coming down from your high when you hear a timer ding in the distance of your kitchen.
"Dinner's ready," you murmur, looking up at Steve, flushing as his deep blue eyes stare down at you.
"Dessert before dinner. Not my usual go-to," he comments, to which you laugh.
When he enters the kitchen, the table is already set. You both eat with no mention of your old job - it’s like all defiance within you has melted away, opting to believe that Steve is right. Opting to believe that Steve will do right by you.
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rogersideup · 7 months
Text
Nice to be kneaded
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Chapter 17
Endgame
Series masterlist
Previous Part: Crawl Home to You Next Part: Good Luck Charm
Word Count: 7,236
Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.
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Last night, you had cried yourself into such a deep sleep that a linear existence wasn't even a concept to your subconscious. It was the first time in weeks it felt like your mind had a moment to sit in silence without overthinking or anxiety poking at it's need for peace.
Steve knew you needed your sleep, and waking you up just to let you know they were about to snap the nano-gauntlet felt like all he would be doing was worrying you. So he sent you a quick text saying he loved you and decided that would be enough to allow you to keep the rest you deserved.
It worked, because you woke up to the sound of a deep, grumbling boom. Like thunder overhead, yet there was not even a cloud in the sky to indicate a storm would be happening.
When you sleep filled brain snapped awake, and immediately remembered the day the blip happened, the sound of rumbling immediately brought tears to your eyes and sprung you to your feet.
They did it.
You wanted to shout your joy from the rooftops, jump up and down with overflowing happiness, run through the streets to reconnect with all of the people you've missed for five whole years.
Then the tears started flowing, so prideful of Steve, and in complete awe that he had contributed to saving the world once more.
The phone on your nightstand started ringing and buzzing like crazy, calls and texts coming through from friends and family alike. Complete disbelief took over.
Between your two fingers, your squeezed your sunflower once just to see if you could get through to Steve and make sure he was okay.
Seeing your sunflower illuminate with one long, golden glow had you smiling from ear to ear as more tears fell down your cheeks. He was okay.
Completely disregarding the fact that you were in sweatpants and a tank top, you threw your messy hair up into a ponytail and quickly slipped a pair of sneakers on your feet before bolting through your bedroom and running down the staircase into the living room.
Just as you were unlocking the front door to run outside and take in the new state of the world, the breath was stolen from your lungs and you no longer felt like rejoicing.
The golden light of your sunflower caught your eye once more, and you counted four glows.
Emergency.
You stopped in place, hoping that your eyes had deceived you. Hoping for the best, you squeezed it back three times hoping you'd get three back. Maybe he tried to say he loved you and accidentally pressed it once more.
He received your message, and sent his again.
It illuminated four times. Emergency.
There was a small pause before he sent three, I love you.
That was all the confirmation you needed to know that he was trying to tell you something bad had happened. You could feel it in your gut that it wasn't going to end well, but for some reason, you still needed to go outside.
The second the sun hit your eyes it felt blinding, and much like the day half the population disappeared, the neighborhood was pouring out into the streets. People hugging and reconnecting outside, some we're confused, some were overly aware. Reunions were bitter sweet, so happy to be together again, yet so incredibly sad over lost time.
The fathers of daughters who had come back to their babies walking, and talking. Elderly couples who now had even less time to live the rest of their lives together, loved ones coming back to find their person had passed on in their time away.
The second your feet hit the porch, they slowly carried you down the steps. When the neighbors saw you and your tears, a handful of them immediately rushed towards you.
Everyone in this tiny town was well aware of Steve at this point, he was a celebrity to the locals yet they all loved him dearly and treated him so kindly. Steve was so loved, and he loved everyone in return.
Their concern for you and for him during a moment like this rushed to the forefront of their priorities.
"Oh darling" Your next door neighbor on the opposite side of Steve's old house pulled you into a hug. "Is Steve okay?"
You allowed her arms to comfort you, "I don't know."
Then more footsteps came rushing around you in all directions, arms engulfing you, hands holding your pieces together. You couldn't even distinguish who's voice was coming from where, but you were immensely grateful for the community always being there for you, and him.
"Honey, he did a wonderful thing."
"Have you heard from him?"
"Where is he?"
"New York" You lifted your head with a sniffle. "He's in New York, he said there's an emergency but I don't know what happened."
"He's strong, he'll be okay."
"He's going to be just fine."
"Steve is a force to be reckoned with, he's going to give hell to anything that tries to touch him."
More footsteps, then a breathless "have you guys heard the news?"
Your head lifted, you looked up at the friendly face that was looking back at you with regret and sympathy "What happened?"
"Thanos is back on earth, he brought an army. The entire avengers compound was destroyed, they're showing it on the news right now."
The tiniest gasp hitched in your throat, and settling anxiety dizzied your vision. It felt like your hearing cut out for a few moments while everyone else around you asked the important questions.
Tiny pieces of information poked through the thick film of fear shrink wrapping around you. We're the avengers okay? Nobody knew. The compound was no longer standing, it was nothing but a pile of rubble beneath the Avengers feet.
But the loudest and most invasive flood of information to your brain was your own voice screaming at you, telling you that the only ounce of control you had over Steve's well-being was to start going to him. Secondly, you thought of the Avengers and the love Steve had for them. They were now misplaced, some of them with no homes now that the compound was blown to shreds. You needed to go to them too.
"Sorry," You mumbled, stepping away from the support of your community and further into the driveway. "I have to go."
Running into your house and grabbing a few things, you shoved it all into a backpack and headed back outside.
The neighbors gentle voices tried to ask you where you we're going. Maybe they were trying to get you to think of the consequences of your actions before you set out on a long drive across state before you started the journey. But all you were thinking of was how he would get home, how you needed to be there for him if he got himself injured or even wors.... no. Not gonna happen.
Getting into the driver's seat and starting the car, you were immediately thankful to your past self that filled the tank with gas after arriving home from New York.
Setting out into the road, you knew there was a chance Steve would get mad at you for this. His only request was for you to stay home so he knew you would be safe, but right now you knew deep within you heart and soul that this is what you needed to do.
During the long drive, you tried to distract yourself through the hours. Blasting your favorite music, chatting with everyone who called you and catching up with everyone who had blipped. You even tried a few times to get into contact with your mom, but for some reason you still couldn't contact her for about an hour or two.
Driving though different cities gave you a good idea of what the world was like now. Some places you sped through with not another car in sight, every one at home with their loved ones, and in other places traffic was horrendous.
It got worse and worse the closer you got to the compound. As you started nearing, your heart pounded out of your chest as the sky got deeper and darker grey.
The smell of thick smoke was seeping through the exterior and through the air filters, you had to make so many different routes to avoid the road closures, sweet talk many police officers to convince them to let you cross evacuation barriers.
As if the universe had planned it, you pulled up at the perfect time. You got as close as you could, put your car into park, got out and started walking towards the smoke pillars and rubble. You could tell whatever had happened was over now. All the chaos in the sky had settled, and you could no longer hear any shouting, banging, or loud noises in general.
Then, your sunflower lit up with one long glow, and your phone started ringing shortly after.
You pulled it out of your pocket, and Steve's name was displayed loudly on the screen. Your shaky fingers accepted the call as fast as they could.
"Baby, are you okay?" You asked quickly.
You could hear him panting like a dog, and the rubble crunching beneath heavy tactical boots. "You're here?" He asked. His voice was breaking, and hoarse.
"Yeah, I am." You told him, knowing he had your location tracked for his own peace of mind. "I'm sorry, I know you told me to stay out but I just felt like I really needed to come be here for yo-"
"I need you" he panted, broken voice cutting off your apology. "You were right."
"Where are you?" You questioned, now having a fire lit under your ass to get to him even quicker.
"Stay where you are, I don't want you to have to see what happened over here." His emotions slowly cracked. "I'm coming to you."
Today had already been one of the worst of his life, and leaving you traumatized over the sight of a war zone and the body of someone you had developed a platonic love for was not something he wanted to do to you.
It wasn't long before you heard heavy footsteps coming towards you, you stood on end feeling uneasy and uncomfortable in the environment you willingly put yourself in.
Then, you saw him. Steve was doing his best to get to you, but he was hanging on by a thread. It instantly shattered your heart to see him so distressed and worn down.
The skin on his face and fingers were painted grey by the smoke and ash that clung to it, blood was pouring down his left cheek from underneath his helmet, and part of his bottom lip was cracked open. His legs were shaking and he walked slowly with a limp, and only half of his shield was attached to his arm. His big blue eyes that usually held a beautiful optimistic sparkle were dull and watery.
Your feet started running over to him faster than your mind could keep up with, and the closer you got, the more Steve unraveled.
He had exhausted his bravery and overextended his ability to hold his composure, so the very moment your hand landed on his shoulder and your eyes looked him up and down with a horrified look smeared on your sweet, beautiful face, he lost it.
"Holy shit" You whispered to yourself. One tear fell down his eye before disappearing under his helmet, then you wrapped your arms around him in a very gentle hug as to not cause him anymore pain, and that one tear turned into something you've never seen Steve do before.
He started sobbing.
Of course you've seen him cry before, but this was more than that. He was collapsing in your arms, failing to catch his breath between panting and crying as his emotions unwound faster than he's ever allowed them to before. You did your best to hold him up, but he was a solid, built guy who was a lot taller than you.
The two of you swayed as he cried, but you could feel just by holding onto him that he hadn't inhaled a single breath in a concerning amount of time.
"Breathe, honey." You reminded him calmly, one hand rubbing his back and the other cradling the back of his helmet covered head. "You have to breathe."
Steve inhaled a choppy attempt at a big breath, and recognized that he was starting to feel like all of the parts of the suit on his body were heightening the pain radiating through each of his limbs, it was suffocating and growing more unbearable by the second.
As if you were an expert of reading his mind and had a PhD in his body language, you let your arms release him slowly allowing him to hold himself up again before your hands reached for his face.
He couldn't rip his gaze away from your face. Usually when your eyebrows were furrowed and your lips pouted in deep concern for someone, it made him sad. But right now, your soft doe eyes and the whole of your deep concern being directed straight at him left him feeling a kind of comfort he hadn't felt since his mother was around. It only encouraged his tears to continue flowing at a rate that was completely unmanageable.
Your steady hands unbuckled the strap around his chin and lifted the helmet off his head then placed it on the floor before your thumbs carefully swiped tears off of his cheeks while avoiding all the blood on his face. All it did was smear the smoke across his cheeks even more, but he was soaking in every second of feeling your skin on his.
"Are you hurt?" You questioned softly, hands moving from his face down to his utility belt to unbuckle it from around his hips, but your eyes never left his.
"My arm" Steve confessed through choppy breaths and sniffles.
Only then did your eyes leave his, and trail down to his left arm. Half of his shield still attached, your hands grabbed his and lifted it carefully higher to your face to inspect it. That's when you realized he was still holding onto the shield because his forearm was slashed straight down the center through the suit, and it's leather straps were tightened to hold it together to keep it from bleeding out.
"Okay" You nodded, letting yourself process that he was injured. "Anywhere else?"
Unexpectedly, he let out a small laugh between the tears. "I just got the shit beat out of me, everything hurts."
You gave him a sympathetic smile, then something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye.
"Baby, you might not want to look over there." Steve warned you again with a remorseful sniffle, but it was too late.
You spotted the red and gold iron man suit all too easily amongst the dull grey surroundings. Though you couldn't make out much detail from far away, you could see his helmet was off, his arm was burned with a gauntlet on his hand, and he wasn't moving. He was surrounded by weepy Avengers, most of them kneeling or squatting around him and each other, offering hugs and condolences.
When you looked back at Steve, your heart broke even more for him. "Oh, you poor thing. I'm so sorry."
He had now lost two friends he loved dearly within 24 hours of each other, and there was nothing you could do to take the physical or mental pain away from him.
"Thanos and his army were about to destroy the planet." Steve explained with a cry, shaking his head in disbelief. "He got the gauntlet, snapped them away. The stones are powerful, a normal human body can't handle them."
"He did the right thing." You dropped your voice to a whisper, trying to hold back your own tears for Steve's sake. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair a few times as he tried to grapple at the events that took place.
"He had a wife and kid." Steve cried. "They were his priority just as much as you were mine. What if it was me?"
"Baby, he kept them safe." You nodded tearfully, but still managing to keep them at bay. "He saved the world so Morgan could grow up safe and happy. He shouldn't have ever had to make that choice, and it's awful that it happened, but he did the right thing. No matter who would've done it, it was the right choice."
He nodded silently and let your words sink in.
"I'm so proud of you." You gently rubbed up and down the bicep of his injured arm, trying your hardest to keep him together. "Thank you for continuing to fight for humanity even when you felt like you had no fight left in you."
"I did it for you." He sniffled.
"I love you so much" Your arms engulfed him again, he clung onto you like his life depended on it. You could feel the whole of his body shaking in pain.
"I love you too" His tears were slowing down, but remained in a state of overwhelming emotion.
"Should we get you to a hospital?" You asked, hating every second of knowing how bad he was hurting.
He shook his head. "I just want to go home."
"I'm so sorry you had to go through this, my love." You squeezed the back of his neck. "What about your arm? They can give you some painkillers, clean you up, take care of your face."
"I know it looks scary, but the serum will take care of it." He shoved his face deeper into your neck.
"Are you sure?"
"Mhm" He reassured. "I really want to be mad at you for putting yourself in danger like this, but I'm so happy you're here."
You smiled at his words, "You can be mad at me if you need to, but if I was in an emergency in a whole different state you would move mountains to get to me."
"I'd rage war on the entire world." He grumbled.
"Honey, you're shaking like a leaf. Do you want to sit for a minute?" You asked, then your attention was pulled away by the footsteps of multiple people, and a voice.
"Oh, there he is. Guys, we found him." Spoke a male voice you didn't recognize.
"Sugar cookie!"
You looked up and couldn't even help the smile that subconsciously smeared across your face. "Sam! Welcome back!"
Steve looked up and unwrapped himself from the hug, but you both kept one arm around each other to help hold him up.
"I'm happy to see you, sugar! And even happier to see that you and Stevie boy over here made it work."
He quickly approached you and gave you a one armed hug, understanding why you weren't letting go of Steve.
"Me too." You smiled, now seeing the bright side of what Steve fought so hard for.
"Let me help you out, are you alright Steve?" Sam asked, coming around to Steve's other side and taking the weight of the soldier off of you.
"I'll be fine." He nodded simply, accepting Sam's help.
You were so focused on Steve and Sam that you failed to notice the shyer, more timid footsteps headed towards you three.
Sam, pointed before saying "Hey, have you ever met B-"
"Bucky!" You enthused, walking towards him with open arms.
Your warmth made a smile appear on his face too, and when he met you in the middle, he happily gave you a hug.
Ever since Steve started telling him about you all the way back during his days in Wakanda, he had a deep rooted fear that you would be scared of him. But that all dissolved when your hands quickly rubbed his back and and you approached him without even a second thought.
"It's so nice to finally meet you." You told him.
"It's about time." Bucky agreed, still a bit shy.
You remembered all of the countless conversations you've had with Steve about Bucky.  How when they were teenagers, Bucky was outgoing and extroverted, maybe to a fault. But nowadays he was shy, slow to warm up, and slow to feel comfortable around new people. You understood wholeheartedly, and wanted to give him the space he needed to gain confidence that you were safe to be around.
All of Steve's family had been through a lot in life, but especially Bucky, and especially in this very moment.
"Sam, Bucky, are you guys okay? Are you hurt?"
Both of the boys shook their heads no, then gave their undivided attention to Steve. All three of you knew he wasn't going to be able to exert himself for much longer at all, so they helped you out.
Sam ran to inform everyone that Steve had to go, while Bucky started helping him walk to your car. Eventually Sam caught up and both boys walked him over, taking most of his weight in the way there. You put his belt, helmet and half the shield into the trunk while Steve leaned against the car, and the three boys chatted away.
They were all in agreement that Steve needed to be home, and given lots of love and attention while he healed his body and mind. It was really sweet to see the love they had for each other in real time. A small circle of people Steve trusted to let see the tears fall regardless of being in uniform. Though it was terribly sad, and so bittersweet, the underlying tone was pure love and you couldn't help but to soak it all in.
When you joined them again, Sam looked at you. "I think we should get this man home."
"Couldn't agree more." You nodded, but you couldn't help but to worry about them too. "Boys, do you have a place to go?"
"I'm headed to my sister's place." Sam confirmed.
Then your eyes met Bucky's. "I'll figure it out." He told you, but you could hear the lack of belief in his own statement.
"Come with us." You told him confidently. Then realized you should probably check with Steve before inviting someone to stay with you, but he was starting to hunch over in pain, his eyes were closing and he wasn't paying much attention to anything other than staying upright. "We have a guest room, you can stay as long as you need."
"No, I couldn't possibly burd-"
"You're absolutely not a burden." You didn't even allow him to finish that statement. "You deserve a comfortable place to lay low for a while, I'd love to get to know you better, and I think it would be good for Steve to have you around. You're more then welcome, we'd love to have you."
He sighed, "okay, but I promise it'll just be for a few days until I can get a place."
You shook your head. "As long as you need, no rush."
"Let's get Rogers in the car" Sam told Bucky, earning a nod.
They got him into the backseat so he could sprawl out if need be, and buckled his seatbelt. The boys said bye to Sam, then Bucky got in the back to keep an eye on him and make sure his arm wasn't bleeding too much on the way home.
It was just you and Sam standing outside the driver door, and he wasn't shy about giving you information you needed to know about Steve.
"The serum will heal his body but it also makes him mentally strong, so seeing him like this is... it's hard." Sam admitted.
"I know, it breaks my heart." You agreed. "I'll take good care of him."
"I looked after him when he ended up in the hospital once. When he gets injured like this and is in extreme emotional pain, he falls asleep for a very long time. You can wake him up for short periods of time but he'll fall back asleep quickly. It's like the serum is using every ounce of energy it can to self repair, he has nothing left for anything else."
Thinking back to all time times Steve was especially sad, and the whole time he spent as a fugitive, you realized Sam was right. He always slept it off. "That's actually really helpful, thank you."
"Is it okay if I call you to check up on them?" He asked.
"Call me whenever you'd like. Do you want to come with us too? It'll at least get you out of New York."
"Thank you, but I really should get home to my sister, check in on my nephews." Sam smiled.
"I understand" You nodded. "You're welcome anytime."
The two of you exchanged phone numbers and said your goodbyes before hitting the road again back to Greenwood. It didn't take long for Bucky to fall asleep next to Steve, so for a few hours you played your playlists quietly to try and keep yourself entertained after having driven so many hours already. Eventually Bucky woke up, and sure enough, Steve had slowly and unconsciously started making his way over to cuddle him.
It made you giggle every time you looked back at them through the rear view mirror. Bucky had to practically fight Steve's limbs to keep off of him and every once in a while he would a mumble out a comment about how he hasn't changed at all since they were teenagers.
Eventually Bucky offered to drive the rest of the way once he realized how long you had already driven today, and that it was probably in Steve's best interest if you were the one looking after him. So you pulled over at a gas station, filled up, then switched with Bucky feeling more than grateful to get away from the wheel for a while.
When you got into the back seat with him, you sat in the middle so he could get all the snuggles he didn't even know he was asking for. Realizing there were more parts of his suit you could still take off to make him more comfortable, you removed the communication device from his ears, pulled the thick leather gloves off his hands, and rolled up the sleeve of his suit on his injured arm so the fabric didn't irritate the gash further.
After spending the whole day in the car, the relief that rang through your body when Bucky pulled into your driveway was immense. The two of you got Steve out of the car, into the house and up the stairs successfully, but it caught a lot of attention from friends in surrounding houses.
A few came out to offer help and thank Steve for what he did, but you could see it in their eyes that seeing Captain America unconscious and covered in blood was their first reality check that being a superhero wasn't all that fun.
The two of you sat him safe and comfortably in your shared room before getting Bucky a comfortable change of Steve's clothes and setting him up for a shower and a very long nap in the guest bedroom. He was incredibly grateful to be given that luxury.
Then, you had to deal with your 250 pound bag of bones. Standing over him, you started shaking his shoulders and tapping his cheeks to try and get him to wake up. And when he did, he looked around with a confused and scared look in his eyes when he realized he wasn't where he thought he was anymore.
"Hi baby." You said to pull his eyes towards you, hoping he would feel safe again. "You're okay, we're back home safe and sound."
"Bucky is here?" He mumbled, trying to keep his eyes open.
"Yeah, he's just downstairs settling in." Keeping your voice and your touch gentle. "How are you feeling?"
"Still hurts."
"I'm sorry, sweet boy." A physical pain bloomed through your chest as he muttered those two words. Watching the strongest person you know become so weak had been one of the saddest moments you've bared witness to. "I want to try to get you out of the suit and cleaned up so you can get more comfortable. Do you think you can handle that right now?"
"You'll help me?" Steve asked.
"Of course, I'm not going to leave you." You reassured him.
"Yeah I think I can do that." He nodded, slowly blinking his eyes.
With a whole lot of patience and working carefully and slowly, you helped get him undressed, showered, and semi-dressed again while trying your hardest not to cause him any more pain than he was already in.
It was hard for you to see his body in such destress, every piece of clothing you removed revealed a new deep purple bruise that was settling beneath his skin. The blood washed off his face but it was still cut up, and tiny little hisses and whimpers of pain he tried his hardest to keep to himself would escape past his throat every once in a while.
Eventually you got him into bed. His hair was still a little soggy from getting washed, and you didn't manage to get a shirt or pants on him but hey, it was good enough. Only once you got him settled and comfortable did you sit next to him and start gently wrapping up the cut on his forearm.
The serum was already doing a good job taking care of it. It was no longer bleeding and it started fusing back together, but you still wanted to make sure it stayed clean and unbothered as he healed.
You finished by cleaning up what you could, put your own soggy hair from having to get into the shower with him into a clip, then got into bed next to him.
Fingers sliding through his damp hair, and delicate kisses being placed to his temple, he finally let it sink in that he was safe and would continue to be safe.
He fell asleep again, and the deeper he fell the more he clung onto you. The biggest part of you was happy and relieved to have him slowly smothering you, at least you knew he was safe and out of harms way. But, you couldn't quiet the smaller part of your brain that couldn't stop barking worries at you. Luckily, it all seemed  trivial now that the world could start healing again.
Steve slept through the rest of the day, the entirety of the night, and didn't wake up until late morning the next day. You tried waking him up once to see if he wanted to eat, but it was clear when he started responding to you with his eyes closed that it wasn't going to happen.
Luckily it was pretty easy to slip out from beneath him. That night you and Bucky got a lot of time to talk and bond over dinner and a few beers, you even snuck off to go see if Georgia was home from the hospital yet but the driveway was empty and your knocks at the door were unanswered.
It seems like everyone slept in the next morning, including you who was woken up to back rubs and the sweetest kisses. The sun was shining brightly through the curtains, and big blue eyes were looking back at you as you opened yours.
"You're so pretty" Steve whispered with a soft smile, continuing to rub your back.
"Good morning, baby." You mumbled, trying to wake yourself up more. "How are you feeling?"
"A lot better." He confirmed. "Still sad, but better. Maybe a little embarrassed."
"Embarrassed? Why?" Your hand found his cheek.
"I broke down fast, and hard." He said with a shy expression, "I couldn't even hold myself together."
"You hold yourself to a standard that's impossible to attain." You told him, gently rubbing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. "I love you and I love that big ol' heart of yours. I love that you express your emotions, and all I want you to do is feel all of your feelings. But the only thing I will not allow you to feel is embarrassed over how you reacted to something that traumatic."
"Well for what it's worth, I'm definitely feeling feelings."
"Be gentle with yourself." You pressed a kiss to his lips, prompting his eyes to close. "Just in the past few days you've time traveled, made amends with an agreement that wrapped your life up for two whole years, lost two of your friends, and almost sacrificed yourself to an army of titans trying to take over the planet. You saved the world. It's okay to cry."
He nodded before shoving his face into the pillow below his head. Patiently and calmly, you played with his hair waiting for him to open up more about the recent events. You could tell the word vomit was on the tip of his tongue, the moment he started to let it spew out it would take a while to stop, and you were ready to listen for however long he needed you to.
"Where did you go when you time traveled?" You questioned, trying to give him a place to start.
"Avengers tower in 2012, we tried to get the space stone in Loki's scepter." He started. "I had to fight my past self in hand to hand combat, do you know how weird that is?"
"No, no I don't." You denied with a smile. "Did you get a chance to see how handsome you really are?"
Your fingers pinched his cheeks, earning a blush. "I was a little too busy free falling off a glass bridge from a few stories high."
"That's fair."
"Well our plan didn't work, so Tony and I went to Camp Lehigh in the 70's to get the Tesseract."
"Why the 70's?" You questioned.
Recalling the reason to you felt like telling his mom a story not realizing there was incriminating information in it, so the tiniest giggle escaped his lips. "Well Tony and I may have used the last of our pym particles to get there because Hank Pym used to have a lab at the camp at the same time the tesseract was there, so we were going to grab the stone and more particles to get home! A win win!"
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Im so glad I had no idea any of this was happening."
"It's better that way." Steve agreed.
"Was it weird to be back?"
"It was weirder to be back during a time I could've lived through had I not, you know..."
"Yeah" You let him know you understood, not wanting him to have to recall yet another traumatic event.
"It was also weird getting the chance to see people I used to know, but older than when I knew them."
The moment those words left his lips, Steve watched happy crinkles form around the corner of your big beautiful eyes, and your lips trying to contain a smile. "Did you see Peggy?"
Steve was immediately nervous to answer that.
It was the first time her name had ever left your mouth. The two of you had never spoken about ex partners unless it was about how bad your last one was.
From what Steve understood, the story of his journey as Captain America back in World War II was one that was often taught about in school. Him, Bucky, the Howling Commandos, Dr. Erskine, Howard, and Peggy. Their relationship was no secret, it was a tale told to kids, a short lived romance that inspired movies and stories around the country.
Though it's true that she got him first, he loved you more.
The last thing Steve wanted to do was hurt your feelings or say the wrong things. But he also knew he had a lot of feelings about the lost time and lost chances in his life that wouldn't be healthy to keep bottled up. Recognizing he needed to talk about it with someone also meant that he finally had something he couldn't talk though with you. For your sake, he wanted to protect your heart as much as you protected his.
"I did." He kept his tone neutral and face expressionless with a hint of apology. "Through an office window by accident."
Unexpectedly, your smile grew wider. "Did you talk to her?"
"What? No." His eyebrows furrowed.
"Why not?" You questioned.
"I could thing of about 15 different reasons why that wouldn't be a good idea." Steve defended himself, realizing that you wanted him to have seen her.
"Oh yeah? Name one." You stood your ground.
"Well, let's start with the fact that my body was somewhere frozen into a big block of ice and I was supposed to be dead."
"Not good enough, you should've been warmer." You denied, obviously joking.
"Ugh, you're so right." Steve agreed. "Also I don't know if you know this, but I have a really incredible girlfriend that I love more than anything in the whole world. I was a little too focused on getting home to her."
"You didn't even want to say goodbye?" You asked with a pout.
"I already did. I said it in person a few months before she passed, and again when I carried her casket into her funeral. There's nothing more that needed to be done." He said confidently. "Why the pout, honey?
Your thumb drew a heart into his cheek. "Because Peggy was my favorite person to study in history class, and frankly I'm jealous. Not for the obvious reasons, but because you got to see her and I didn't."
That brought a rush of relief to Steve's mind and a genuine laugh out of his body. "That's adorable, and I'm sorry. I'll be more considerate next time I find myself in the 70's."
"Thank you, I really appreciate that." You smiled. "Is this a good time to tell you I wrote an essay about her in high school and got an A on it?"
"How long have you waited to tell me that?" Steve asked, feeling more awake now but it was obvious you were still a little sleepy.
"How long has it been since I figured out you were Captain America?"
Steve giggled again, "did you get any A's on Captain America essays?"
"Literally never." You denied. "Sorry."
"It's okay, I understand." His smile prevailed.
"If I wrote one now I'd get an A plus."
"Oh, I believe it." He agreed.
"How's you arm? I've been worried about it."
"Feels like it's not even injured anymore." He eased your mind, before easing his own. "How have you been holding up with all of this?"
Another kiss was placed on his lips before you started. "I'm okay. It was hard seeing you yesterday, and it going to take a while to not be sad about Nat and Tony, but I'm so happy you guys were able to reverse what Thanos did."
"Have you talked to your Mom?"
"I did." You smiled. "She googled my name to try and find out if I was okay before she called me, and I think she's a little shocked that I'm dating you but other than that I think it'll take her a while to process what happened to the universe."
"Oh no, does she not like me?" Steve cringed.
"It's impossible to not like you" you denied.
"Have you met Georgia and Michael?" He questioned. "Speaking of, had you heard from her?"
"She's okay." You confirmed with a nod. "Should be back home at some point today."
"Did I hallucinate that Bucky is here or is that real?"
"Oh no that's real, he's downstairs." This time you giggled. "Were you hallucinating?"
"I... don't know. Yesterday was a blur." He answered. "I thought we agreed to you not taking in anymore fugitives!"
"Oh but this one is so cute!" You enthused as if the grown adult assassin in your guest bedroom was a puppy. "Can we keep him!?"
Steve shook his head at you with a smile. "Unbelievable."
"Pleaaaassseeee" You begged.
"Maybe I should call your mom and ask her why she didn't teach you stranger danger" he joked.
"Bucky is no stranger, you big meanie." You very gently hit the top of his arm, the way it was barely even a pat made him laugh. "He's wonderful. We had dinner together last night."
"You and Bucky had dinner together?!" Steve questioned. "He's gonna steal my girl with a clean sweep."
"No he's not." You denied. "And to be fair, I did try to wake you up."
Steve smiled and kissed you softly. "Thanks for looking out for him. It means a lot to me."
"He's important to you, so he's important to me." You reminded Steve.
"But you like him so far?"
"I love him, he's great." You sleepily enthused.
"I should go bother him" Steve noted, trying to get himself out of bed. He slowly sat up and kicked his legs over the edge until he was sitting. "You wanna go bother Bucky too?"
"Is bothering him my only option?"
"You could annoy him? Maybe pester him."
"Existing in peace isn't an option?" You giggled, stretching out your back and all 4 limbs now that Steve was up and you had the whole bed to yourself.
"With Bucky? Never."
"Sounds fun" you nodded.
You watched Steve stretch each of his shoulders out, pulling each arm to the side between opposite folded forearms and bicep. His face scrunched up, and a little wince sounded from his throat.
"I thought I felt better, but lying down was really deceiving." He noted.
"You look pretty solid considering you were half dead yesterday." You noted enthusiastically. "That's good, right?!"
Steve watched you get out of bed before looking down and realizing he really had barely any recollection of what happened after you made it to New York. "Also, where are my clothes? Why am I half naked? And who saw me naked? How am I so clean?"
You laughed at his choice of words. "Just me, I helped you take a shower, remember?"
"Nope." He popped the P at the end of the word. "But thank you!"
"No problembo"
He opened his arms for you as you approached for a hug, and he happily wrapped you up and kissed your head. He was always grateful for you, but a little more so right now.
"You're incredible, Honey." You reminded him once more, your hands rubbing the bare skin of his back. "I'm happy and sad for you at the same time, but I hope through the good and bad you can find peace now."
"This was definitely a good start." He grinned. "I love you, I couldn't have done it without your support."
"I love you too."
"My arms still really hurt." He stated, gently swaying you from side to side. "Probably from wielding mjolnir."
That statement earned your stillness as you thought about what he had just said. Then all at once you pulled away from his hold, "you did WHAT?!"
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Series Finale: Good Luck Charm
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crazyunsexycool · 8 days
Text
Heart’s Munition
Chapter 7
Pairing: Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Maid!reader
Word count: 6.3k
Warning: mention of blood/blood splatter, gun use, gunshot, knife use, non-con touching (not Steve), SA, attempted rape, bruises, beating, angst, protective Steve
A/N: I really liked writing this chapter. Here we have a situation in which reader knows that Steve is in the mob but has never been in direct contact with any type of violence or anything until she is… We also find out who the woman that broke Steve's heart is (Are we surprised who it is?) We'll find out why later on so here we go....
Series Masterlist
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“One more piece of tape.” You said as you held your hand out. 
“Here you go.” 
You place the tape on the last corner and then smooth it out to make sure it stays in place. 
“Mom are you done?” Eli pops his head into the room you’re in. “They’re downstairs.”
“Yes, come on.” 
You and Eli were two balls of energy. Everything was in place and Regina was more than supportive in your excitement. For the last two days you had been working on getting a room ready for Peter. He was finally being released from the hospital and considering how things were going Steve thought it would be better if Peter stayed for a while. 
There’s voices coming from the hallway so you and Eli stand together and wait for the door to open. Steve smiles as he opens the door and steps inside. Peter is right behind him. 
“Welcome home.” You and Eli yell at the same time. Peter, still being medicated, is startled before he starts laughing. 
“Thanks guys. Did you help decorate?” He asks Eli who walked up to Peter and hugged him gently. 
“Yeah. Do you wanna watch a movie?” 
“That sounds like a great idea bud.” 
“Eli, let Peter get settled first. Why don’t you go help Dom make some snacks for the two of you?” 
“Ok ma. I’ll be right back.” Eli says before he’s running out the door. 
“It’s good to see you’re back.” You said as you gave Peter a hug of your own. 
“Glad to be back too.”
You smile as you help him get comfortable in bed. Regina helps by getting his bags from Sam and sorting out the items. 
“Who’s she?” Peter nods in her direction. 
“This is Regina, the newest member of our staff.” 
Peter gives her an awkward smile and his eyes dart to Steve. He thought he’d find the boss checking her out but his eyes were only on you. Peter knew from the first moment Steve liked you but he was stubborn. He wouldn’t let emotions cloud his judgment. Steve had warned him to keep a level head and to keep feelings out of the business. But seeing him now it would seem as if his boss was going against his own advice. 
“Nice to meet you. Let me know if you need anything.” Regina offers. “I’m going to get back to work.”  
“Thanks.” Steve says as he moves so that she can reach the door. 
You stay for a few more minutes catching up with Peter before you excuse yourself too. Bucky and Sam walk out with you.
“We’ll let you get settled but we do have to talk about what happened at some point.” Steve says. 
“Of course boss.” Peter nods. “I’m glad you brought them here. Y/N and Eli I mean. It was just the two of them and with Eli as sick as he is Y/N needs all the support she can get.” 
“And she has it now. Why didn’t you tell me about her and her son?” 
Peter looks down at his hands. 
“You’re not in trouble.” 
“She asked me not to. Simple as that. Eli is her priority and I respected that.” 
“You’re loyal, I like that about you kid.” Steve says. “You’re not keeping any other secrets from me are you?” 
“No sir. Eli is the only thing I’ve ever kept a secret.” 
“Good. Now get some rest.” 
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Steve flexed his hand, assessing the damage on his knuckles from the interrogation he’d been a part of. He hissed when the cold alcohol swab touched the open skin on his other hand. 
“Don’t be a baby.” You murmur as you throw away the used alcohol pad. 
You turn away from Steve to grab some ointment and when you turn back he’s lighting a cigarette. 
“Hey.” Steve protests when you snatch the unlit cigarette from his mouth. “What the hell, I need a smoke. I'm stressed.” 
“No smoking in the house.” 
“It’s my house.” Steve argues back. 
“Elijah can’t inhale smoke so either quit or go outside to the other end of the yard where he doesn’t play.” 
“So now I can’t do whatever I want in my own house?”  Steve glares at you but you aren’t intimidated by it. 
You roll your eyes before taking his hand again and finish cleaning it up before moving around to the next one. 
“I didn’t ask you to move in. You brought me here and told me this place was safe for me and my kid. Now if you go and trigger an asthma attack it won't be good for him.” 
Steve huffs but agrees. He sits silently for a moment as he watches you.
“You know maybe I should get you a sexy nurse uniform.” 
“And who would I wear it for?”
“Your only patient.” Steve says, matter of fact. “Do you think I’d let anyone else see you dressed in something like that?” 
“I don’t know, I thought it was my choice who I let see me with or without clothes on.” You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips when Steve’s jaw clenched. “What? Does it bother you that I could go out there and find someone and let him take me home?” 
Steve stands abruptly and spins you so that you’re chest to chest with him. His hands lay flat against the flat surface of the desk  behind you, his eyes darkening at just the thought of someone else putting their hands on you. Your breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze. 
“Do you really think I would let that happen? Let some asshole touch you.” 
“It’s not up to you, Steve. I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want. Why do you care anyway? Are you still just trying to get me in your bed? Is this why you’ve been so helpful, you think that helping me with Eli will get me to sleep with you? I won’t risk it. My job is much more important than a one night stand with you. Besides I thought we were past this you sleeping with your maids thing.” 
Steve groans in frustration, his head falling to your shoulder. You smile and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“No. I’m helping you with Eli because I genuinely care.” He pulls back to look at you, his gaze much softer now. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough before but I will be now. I want you. Not just for one night.” 
“Well two nights isn’t going to cut it either.” 
“You’re being a brat, you know that? I'm going to win you over.” 
You laugh and get closer to his face, his eyes immediately going to your lips. 
“Well I’m not going to make it easy for you.” You murmur and kiss the tip of his nose just as the door opens. 
Bucky walks in, his steps falter as he watches the two of you separate yourself from one another. 
“Hey Buck, right on time I was just finishing up here.” You say as if he didn’t walk in on the two of you in a compromising position. 
“Uh-ok cool.” 
You pick up the first aid kit and place it back in its spot within Steve’s office. As you head for the door you stop and turn to look at both men.
“How much longer is that mess going to be downstairs?” You asked about the nameless idiot that shot Peter.
“It will be cleaned up soon.” 
“Ok, just let me know if you need me to take Eli out for the day. I don’t want him to see any of that.” 
“Of course.” Steve smiled and you walked out.
“What was that about?” 
“Don’t worry about it.” Steve waves his hand dismissively. 
“Ok? Anyways, Beck still won’t talk. We’ve tried everything.” 
Steve sighed as he ran a hand over his beard. “We’re going to have to call either Lloyd or Loki in. But we’ll move Beck first. I don’t want that done here.” 
“I’ll figure out where to move him to.” 
“Thanks, I’ll make the call.” Steve leans forward and grabs the phone while Bucky heads back out. 
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You heard Steve’s voice before you walked into Elijah’s room. Almost as soon as you had moved in, Eli requested that Steve read with him at night before bed. You told your son you weren’t sure that was possible but in the short time you’ve been there Steve hasn’t missed a night. Although reading didn’t take long, all of the medication Eli was on made him sleepy. It didn’t stop him from fighting it and trying to stay awake for just a few more minutes. You lean against the doorframe and watch Steve tuck Eli in and turn off the lamp next to his bed. 
“Hey.” Steve says as he walks out of the bedroom. 
“He didn’t put up much of a fight did he?” 
“No.” Steve shakes his head. “I think all of the excitement of having Peter here wore him out.” 
You smile while looking back into the darkened bedroom. “I’m not surprised. He loved when Pete would come over and play video games.” 
Steve’s eyes were still on you when you looked back up at him. There was an intense feeling of need between the two of you as you stood in the quiet dimly lit hallway. One that pulled you closer to each other. He cleared his throat and you looked away.
“I have some business to attend to at one of my clubs. Will you be alright here alone?” 
“Yeah. Peter is sleeping too and I think Dom had a poker game. I’m just gonna enjoy a nice bubble bath before bed.” 
Steve groans and closes his eyes. You bite back a laugh. 
“Do you need a hand with this bubble bath?” 
You smile and shake your head before starting to walk backwards toward your own room. “I’m good, thanks. I can take care of myself just fine.” 
“Tease.” Steve mutters as he watches you walk into your room. 
****
Steve shook hands with his newest associate, Erik Killmonger. They had worked together before but this was going to be on a more permanent and lucrative basis. The two men were in the vip section with a drink in hand celebrating their new business deal. 
They looked down at the sea of people dancing and drinking as they talked about logistics and expectations. 
“Good evening gentlemen.” A sickly sweet voice called out from behind them. 
It was a voice Steve recognized and immediately tensed because of it. He turned slowly, anger already rising within him. A glare was sent in the direction of the uninvited guest but she was unphased.
“What are you doing here, Sharon?” Steve demanded to know. 
“I just came by to say hello, see how my old friend was doing.” 
“You shouldn’t be here. Not my club and not in New York.” 
She rolled her eyes and sat at one of the plush couches, motioning for a waitress to get her a drink. “I heard you were doing business and I have a proposition for you.” 
Erik looked between the two and excused himself after mentioning something about someone catching his eye. It left Steve alone with Sharon although Bucky quickly and quietly joined them. 
“So what do you say, Rogers? Want to make a deal?” Sharon asked as she batted her lashes at Steve. 
“No. You shouldn’t even be in New York but I’ll be a gentleman and give you twelve hours to leave.” Steve nods at Bucky who moves and grabs Sharon by the arm. 
“You can’t be serious? Is this because of Peggy?” 
Steve tensed at the mention of her name. It brought back bitter and hurtful memories. He kept his expression unreadable though and looked back at the blonde. 
“I’m a man of my word. I said I’d never work with The Carter Family again and I intend to keep it. I also told you that you have twelve hours to leave.”
Sharon pulls her arm away from Bucky’s hold. “It’s a shame you’re letting your emotions get in the way of a very lucrative deal.” 
“Sharon-” Steve raised his hand to stop her from talking when she opened her mouth.
“Steve.”
“What Buck?” He looked over a Bucky, annoyed that he was being interrupted. 
“We have to go. Check your phone.” 
Steve pulls out his phone to find a few missed calls and texts from your phone. 
Y/N: Steve mom needs help. 
Y/N: Come home now!
Y/N: Please!!
Y/N: Answer your  phone.
Steve immediately called you back but you didn’t answer. The urgency came from the first message that was obviously from Eli. He wasn’t sure how he missed yours and Peter’s calls but he left Sharon forgotten in his VIP section and headed back home with Sam and Bucky.
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Eli and Peter were sleeping. Dom had gone to a weekly poker game with his friends. The house was quiet and you have wanted to take advantage of the bathtub in your room for a while. So that’s what you did. You lit some candles and added epsom salts and oils into the water. It was perfect. With some music playing softly in the background the only thing missing was a glass of wine. You grabbed your robe and headed downstairs with the intention of pouring yourself some. 
It was while passing Elijah’s room that something felt off. While you left the door ajar it was opened a little too wide. Then there was a smell of cigarette smoke that bothered you. Especially after asking Steve not to smoke around him. You knew that request bothered him but he wouldn’t go do anything to harm Eli either. So you crept up to the door and peered inside just to make sure Eli was still asleep. You could see him on the bed sleeping soundly but the cigarette smoke clung in the air heavily. Since the room was dark other than the sliver of light that illuminated the bed you struggled to make anything else out. 
You hear it before you see it. The deep inhale in the corner of the room. Then the lit cigarette. The person smoking takes a step out of his hiding place and you can barely make out his short slicked back hair and large frame. Your breathing stops as you stare at this stranger in your son’s room. 
“Well what do we have here?” It’s almost a whisper but it sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine. 
“Get out of this room right now.” 
The stranger walked closer to you. He was tall and obviously strong. You were sure he would overpower you but he was a threat to your son. You’d do anything to protect him. With every step he took you took one back in the hopes of leading him out into the hallway. 
“Aren’t you a pretty little thing? Rogers must be treating you well if you walk around like that.” He motioned toward your robe which had loosened and revealed your bra. He licked his lips as he eyed you. “The kid might be a bit of a mood killer though.” 
You wrapped the robe around yourself tightly and headed towards the stairs. He stalked towards you with a predatory gaze in his eyes. Before you could get to the top of the stairs he grabs the back of your neck, pressing his body against your. One hand wraps around your throat and the other starts roaming your body.
“That’s no way to treat a guest, Honey.” He whispered in your ear before sniffing your hair. 
“Let me go.” 
“Show me a good time and maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll keep you.”  
He started dragging back into the hallway and opened the first door he found. 
“No. Please don’t.” You tried to push against him in hopes of avoiding being thrown into the bed. But he was taller and obviously stronger than you. 
“You should cooperate sweetheart. Maybe I’ll go easy on ya.” 
You're thrown onto the bed. The robe you were wearing is now open, exposing your bra and revealing the shorts you were wearing. You cry and beg as your attacker moves to crawl over you, his lips find their way to your neck as he holds your hands above your head with one hand. His grip is hard and painful. The other he uses to keep your face still as he kisses you. He pulls back and smirks down at you. 
“Look at you, you’re so pretty when you cry.” He laughs as he moves around in order to undress you. In a moment of desperation you kick your feet up and manage to kick him in his groin. “You fucking cunt.” In his moment of weakness you kick higher this time and your foot connects with his face. He grabs his nose and starts cursing at you but you’re moving away from him.
You ran faster this time in hopes of getting down the stairs. As long as he was away from Eli you didn’t care what happened to you. 
“Dumb whore. I was going to be good to you but now you’re fucked. When I’m done with you, you’ll never see the kid again.” He yelled as he followed you down the stairs. “Stop running or I’ll go back up there and shoot the kid.”
Turning to look over your shoulder slowly you saw the gun aimed at you. 
“I really only came here for one thing. You see your little fuck buddy, Rogers, he has an associate of mine.” He says while taking a few steps down towards you. 
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Elijah creep out of his room. He stood there unmoving as he watched a stranger pull a gun out on his mom. You prayed he would go hide again and were relieved when he moved away from the railing. 
On the landing that led to the second floor you stood looking up at the intruder. He takes slow deliberate steps just to show you that he was in control. Your tear stained cheeks do nothing to deter his attack.
“If you tell me where he is,” he pulls his phone out and shows you a picture. “I won’t have the kid watch what I do to you. I won’t sell him off to the highest bidder either.” 
A door opens up at the end of the hall. He stops on the last step so that he’s hidden from whoever is there.
“Y/N?” Peter’s sleepy voice breaks the tense silence. “Y/N, I need some help.” 
The stranger takes a peek around the corner and sees Peter making his way down slowly. You take his distraction and charge at him full force hoping to at least knock him down and get the gun away from him. Barreling into him, shoulder first, he falls back. It wasn’t so much your strength but catching him off guard that helped you. He groaned as he grabbed his head, a small amount of blood started to trickle from the apparent gash at the back. While it looked like it hurt it didn’t completely knock your aggressor out. 
“Peter, get back in your room. Call Steve or anyone tell them to get back now.” You yelled before running down the stairs with the gun in your hand. 
Not even hitting his head against a few steps slows down your attacker. It forces you to head into the kitchen instead of outside. You turn on your heel and hold the gun up, pointing it at him.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.” You say.
“Really? I don’t think you’ve ever used a gun before.” 
“First time for everything.” You reply. “On your knees.” The gun is still pointed at him but it shakes almost violently in your hands. 
He smirks and takes another step closer. The gun goes off but it hits the floor. It makes your hands shake even more.
“Don’t. Move.” You say through gritted teeth. 
There’s movement behind him and then Peter is telling you to move. The intruder turns around to face Peter knowing you won’t be able to shoot. He still gets shot once in the shoulder and in each kneecap forcing him to the ground. When you stand from behind the kitchen island you see Peter standing with a gun in his hand, suppressor attached. 
“Are you ok?” He asks while keeping his gun aimed down at the intruder. 
“I think so.” You say with a shaky voice while looking him over. “You’re bleeding.” 
“I think I ripped my stitches.” 
“I’ll get you cleaned up. Let me just-“ you look around unsure of what you can use to restrain him.  “I’ll be right back.” You run down the steps to the basement on wobbly legs. 
“We can use this.” 
You say as you get to the top stair with some rope. Peter nods but grimaces at any slight movement. 
“What do I do?” You look up at Peter.
“Y/N, Peter?” 
“In the kitchen.” You yell out. 
Coulson’s quick steps echo throughout the otherwise quiet home. He stares at the scene in front of him bewildered for just a moment. 
“Give me the rope.” He says and moves into action. 
You help Peter get to the couch. “I’m gonna get the first aid kit ok? I’ll be right back.”
“Hey,” he catches your hand. “Go check on Eli first, this can wait a few minutes.” 
He saw the relief in your eyes and the way your tense shoulders slumped. 
You run up the stairs and head directly to his room where you find the door locked.
“Elijah, baby it’s me.” You knock. “Baby please open the door. It’s ok.” 
The door opens and Eli’s crying face comes into view.
“Mom.” He rushes to you, burying his face in your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist. 
“It’s ok, it’s safe now. Are you ok?”
You feel him nodding against you. The only thing you can do is hug him back and assure him that he’s ok. After a few minutes you pull away, kneeling to get a better look at him and make sure there are no marks on him. 
“Why was that man here? Why did he want to hurt you?”
“I don’t know, baby.” You brush away his tears. “Let’s go sit.” 
Eli takes your hand and walks back into his room. You aren’t sure if it’s him shaking or you but it’s almost uncontrollable. 
“I tried to call and text Steve but he didn’t answer.” He holds out your phone.
“You did a good job, come here.” 
You take your phone and call Steve immediately but there’s no answer. Then you call Sam and Bucky and still nothing. You send them all a few texts and you start to worry that they have been hurt. Dom answers right away and he tells you that he’ll be back in a few minutes. After that you sit against the headboard and bring Elijah to sit on your lap and you hold him tight like when he was a baby. The only thing you could do now was wait. 
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Steve flew through traffic in order to make it back as fast as he could. His mind raced as he tried and failed to get an answer from you. He came up with the worst case scenarios of what could be happening. All Steve hoped was that you and Eli were ok no matter what the issue was. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to either of you. 
 Sam and Bucky weren’t far behind when Steve finally pulled into the driveway of his mansion. Immediately he knew something was way off. The normal guards that were posted around the perimeter were missing. He grabbed his gun as he stepped out of his car. When he looked backed, Sam and Bucky also had their guns out. 
Steve rushed to the door, opening it without warning. His gun was up as he walked in with Sam and Bucky behind him. They walk into the living room only to find Peter sitting back on the couch, his hand putting pressure on the area where he had been stitched up previously. Dom was fussing over him trying to help stop the bleeding.
“Peter? What happened?” Steve asked, getting the attention of the semiconscious young man. 
“There’s this guy. He broke in.” 
“I have him down in the room.” Coulson stepped out of the kitchen. “I got an alert from the security alarm. I got here just as Peter shot him. It seems he had his eyes set on Y/N.”
“Where is she?” 
“Upstairs.” Peter answers. “With Eli.” 
Steve looks back and Bucky lifts his chin up towards the stairs. 
“We’ll go see who this idiot is.” 
“Get Peter medical help and find out what happened to the guards.”
“Clint and Nat are on their way.” Coulson says. “I’ll have them take Peter in.”
Steve nods and heads upstairs. He takes two at a time until he reaches the third floor. His heart is beating out of his chest as he walks up to Eli’s room, worried about the state he would find you in. He knocks but doesn’t get an answer so he opens the door and takes a peek inside. The cigarette smoke still lingers but he doesn’t find either you or Eli. Steve walks out and heads to your room, knocking a bit more harshly than he intended too. 
“Y/N? Can you open up?” Steve calls out. After a minute the door opens and your tear stained face peeks out. 
“Steve.” You whimper when you finally see him.
“C’mere, baby.” Steve pulls you into his chest. He feels your whole body trembling and his arms tighten around you. “Are you ok? Is Elijah?” 
You nod against his chest and begin to sob now that Steve was there. 
“It’s over. You’re safe.” Steve murmured.
He kept as calm as he could but he felt nothing but rage. Not only did someone think they could just walk into his home without any repercussions, they also terrorized you. There would be hell to pay once he was downstairs to get the necessary information. 
“Do either of you need to see a doctor?”
“No. We’re ok, just shaken up a bit.” You reply as you finally look up at him again. 
“Alright. What about you? Are you sure you’re not hurt? Did he do anything to you?” 
You avert your eyes and Steve’s stomach drops. 
“What did he do? Did he touch you?” Steve’s voice hardened. There was this underlying and unsettling sharpness to it.
You nodded. Steve took a deep breath while he slowly pulled away and turned his back towards you. He ran a hand over his beard as he thought about all the ways he was going to rip the asshole that dared touch you apart. 
Steve turned back to look at you. “Did he force hi-“
“Tried to. I got away from him before he could.” 
“Ok.” Steve takes a deep breath. “C’mon let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.” 
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Once Steve realizes that you’re asleep he leaves the room quietly. He walks down to the first floor to find out what the hell is going on in his own home. There will be hell to pay for this, not just for the disrespect of breaking into his house but for what you went through.
“Update, now.” He demands.
“The idiot that broke in is none other than Jack Rollins. Apparently he was looking for Beck when he stumbled upon Eli’s room.” Bucky says. “He’s a sick twisted bastard from what Peter told me he heard.” 
“Did he say anything else?” 
Bucky shakes his head. Steve starts rolling up his sleeves. He heads for the basement door with Bucky on his heels. 
“What are you going to do?” 
“What do you think?” He growls but continues toward the basement door. 
“Steve, think about this.” Bucky says. “We could get information out of him if we do this right.”
Steve stops and turns to look at Bucky and the rest of his team. 
“He put his hands on Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about information.” 
Bucky’s eyes harden at the new information.
“I’ll come with you.” 
The two men walk down to the basement and into the soundproof room. Sam was standing over Rollins, who already had a few cuts and scrapes along with the gunshot wounds. Steve doesn’t waste any time at all as he connects his fist with Rollin’s jaw. The man, who had been tied to a chair, falls backwards. 
“I’m guessing that pretty little thing you have upstairs told you about our time together.” Rollins chuckles. “She was real sweet.0
Steve lands a few more hits before he stretches his hand out behind him. Bucky already knows what Steve wants and hands him a knife. Steve inspects it carefully before looking down at the man below him. 
“Oohh should I be-Aahh.” Rollins screams when Steve plunges the knife into the bullet wound on his shoulder. Blood splatters into Steve’s face but it doesn’t deter him.
****
When Steve finally stopped his assault he was covered in blood. Steve’s anger hadn’t subsided even as he walked back into the kitchen. The others were gathered around the island talking about what happened when he joined them. 
“Has anyone checked in on Y/N?” He asked. 
“Still sleeping boss.” 
He nods and starts walking out. “I’ll be back in about 10 minutes. I want to know everything when I come back.” 
Steve goes up to his room to shower and change quickly. Then he heads back down to the kitchen. Dom has a cup of coffee ready for him. The sun was just starting to light up the sky. Steve grabs his cup and takes a sip. 
“What do we have?” He asks as he takes a seat at the kitchen table. 
“Rollins killed some of the guards around the perimeter, enough to slip by undetected. He hacked the security system. He couldn’t completely deactivate it but he delayed the notification Coulson would get.” Clint said. 
“He was looking for Beck. But he won’t say anything else.” 
“What should we do now?” Bucky asks. 
“First I want him out of the house. Get him some medical attention, I’m not done with him just yet.” Steve orders. “Let’s double up the guards. Let’s have Jensen double check the security system and upgrade whatever needs to be upgraded.”
“How is Peter doing?” 
Steve and the rest of the group turn to see you standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Even though you slept most of the night you look exhausted. Eyes are red and slightly swollen as if you’d just been crying. 
“Peter’s fine. He just ripped some stitches, he’s in his room sleeping.” Nat tells you. 
You nod as Dom walks over to you. 
“Want some coffee, Mia Cara?” 
You shake your head. Dom opens his arms for you and you step into his embrace. The older man pats your back in a comforting manner. 
“You’re safe now, Mia Cara. We won’t let anything like this happen again. You hear me?” He reassures you. 
You just nod against his chest. Everyone silently shuffles out of the kitchen. Dom places a chaste kiss on your forehead and leaves, giving you and Steve some privacy. 
“How are you feeling?” Steve asks as he gets up and moves towards you.
You shrug. Other than being worried about Eli you were numb to the whole situation. 
“Baby, look at me.” Steve says softly.  He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls up so that you have to look at him. 
You’re fighting back tears for what felt like the millionth time. 
“Tell me what you need?”
“I don’t know.” 
“How about some time away from here? We can get away for a weekend and take Eli somewhere fun. What do you say?” Steve offers.
 It angered him all over again to see you like this. A shell of who you really are. Your arms wrapped around yourself. Steve didn’t like seeing you down like this although it was completely understandable. 
You shrug again in response and he sighs. 
“Why don’t you go rest for a little bit longer and I’ll have Dom make you something and bring it up.” 
“I can’t.” You mumble as you look around the room. 
“Why?” 
“I have to work.”
“You’re joking right? You aren’t going to be working today. Regina will be in any minute now, she’ll do what she can. You worry about taking care of yourself and Eli.” Steve says as he leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room. 
In the distance you hear the door that is normally used by the house staff to come in and out.
“See, that's probably Regina right now. I’ll talk to her.” 
You gasp when Regina appears in the doorway. She’s sporting a black eye, busted lip, bruises around her throat and she’s holding her side as if it hurt. You rush over to her to make sure she’s ok. 
“What happened?” 
“The-these men they-they broke into my house early this morning.” She sobbed before hiding her face in your shoulder. 
“Fuck. Bucky, Sam.” Steve yells for them. The two men rush out of the hallway that leads to Steve’s office. 
“What happened?” Bucky asks once he sees Regina crying. 
You tell them what she had just said since she couldn’t control her crying. Both men look back at Steve, the same anger in their eyes. Dom and Coulson soon join the others.
“Do you know who did this?” You ask her as you guide her to the couch. 
“No. I’ve never seen them before. I was sleeping when they broke in.” Regina sniffles.
“Did they say what they wanted?”
Regina nods. “They told me that I had to get whatever information that I could on you and report back to them.” 
“I have a few questions.”
“Ask away.” 
“How did they know you work for me?” Steve asks and you look between him and Regina.
“I don’t know, maybe they had been following me?” 
“Why tell me?”
Regina swallows thickly as tears well up in her eyes again. “Well everyone here has been so nice to me, and this is the first job I don’t have to get almost naked to get money for,” She sighs, wincing due to her injured ribs. “I didn’t want to ruin what I had here. But my grandma, she’s in a nursing home and they had pictures of her. They said that they’d hurt me and make her watch.”
“They said the same about me and Eli.” 
“Wait what?” Regina looks at you confused. 
“Someone broke in last night.”   
“What is happening?” Regina asked. She was scared and so were you. The only difference was that you knew Steve would make things right. 
“I don’t know but I’m going to find out. In the meantime you can’t go back to your place.” Steve tells her. “We’ll have someone pick up some clothes for you and have a doctor look you over. Do you think you could recognize these men if you saw them again?”
“Maybe. Oh wait,” Regina grabs her phone. “Would a video help?”
“You have a video of them?” 
She looks at Bucky and nods. “I installed a doorbell camera and a camera in the living room. Here, you can definitely see their faces.” 
“You have a camera in your living room?” Sam asks suspiciously.
“I live alone and I’m single. There have been some break ins around the neighborhood. I was trying to protect myself.” She says as she hands the phone over to Bucky.
Sam and Steve huddle around Bucky to look at the video Regina had. They see her being dragged out of her room and beaten. Unfortunately they didn’t recognize the men in the video but they would find them nonetheless. 
“Thank you for this. I don’t know who they are but we’re going to find them.” Steve tells her. “Y/N can I talk to you for a minute?” 
You get up and follow Steve into his office where he closes the door behind you. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask Steve after watching him pace back and forth for a few minutes. “Is it about whoever broke into Regina’s place?”
Steve leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest. 
“I’ll most likely have to be out more. At least while I track these sons of bitches down.”
“Ok, and?” 
“Will you be ok here? After last night… I’m doing everything to make sure this place is more secure.”
“Ok.” 
“I’m also going to assign Nat to be with you whenever you go out. I know you’re independent but I need you to do as she says if something were to happen.” 
“Do you think someone would try to hurt me again?” 
“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean look at what they did to Regina and she hasn’t even been here that long. I’m not going to risk you and Eli being in danger again.” Steve pushes himself off the desk and walks over to you. “It should’ve never happened in the first place. I’m going to handle this.”
“I’m more worried about Elijah than myself.”
“Of course you are because you’re a good mom.” Steve cups your face when he sees your eyes start getting glassy. “You just take care of him like you always do and I’ll keep you both safe.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” 
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
Note
https://at.tumblr.com/imyourbratzdoll/hey-how-are-you-doing-do-not-forget-to-drink/hqp5i3p1bu5v
Could you maybe do a part 2 to this one? Maybe where steve meets her in real life and can’t control himself he just has to have her!
here is part two of red and blue bikini
summary - steve had never thought he would meet you in person, but thanks to tony butting into things, he finally gets to feel you around him.
warning - smut, dirty talk, spit kink, soft slapping, creampie, swearing, captain kink, slightly dark, aftercare.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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Steve couldn’t believe it. He was finally going to meet you. The woman of his dreams, the one that causes him to wake with morning wood. He couldn’t contain his excitement, no matter how hard he tried. He nearly fainted when he heard you were invited to Tony’s party and accepted the invitation. Steve knew he had to impress you, completely forgetting he was Captain America. 
The night of the party, Steve made sure to put on his nicest shirt. A deep blue colour that hugged his upper body perfectly, showing off his large muscles. He was giddy, ignoring the funny looks his friends gave him every time someone would walk in through the door, and he’d look, only to look away disappointed when it wasn’t the woman he wanted to see. 
But the moment you walked through the door, wearing a tiny long sleeve pink shirt with a matching long skirt. Steve thought he had died. His eyes dragged up and down your body multiple times, unable to take his eyes off your exposed stomach or thigh. He had to sit down quickly, or else everyone would see the massive bulge forming. You had spotted the team and smiled, making your way over with a sway of your hips. Steve’s heart began to beat faster as he heard the click of your heels on the floor, getting closer to where he was seated. 
“Hi, guys!” You smile, standing next to the seated Captain as you greet the rest of the team. “Tony, did you accidentally send me the wrong invitation? I wouldn’t expect I was worthy enough to be in the presence of the avengers.” Damn, even your voice sent shivers up Steve’s spine, causing his cock to twitch. He had to bite his lip to stop the moan from escaping his mouth. Steve wasn’t worthy of being in your presence, hell. He wasn’t worthy enough to be thinking of you or stroking his cock to your poster. But, my god. He couldn’t stop.
Tony shrugs. “I had to invite the woman Capsicle has been crushing on.” Steve’s head snaps over to the billionaire, glaring as Tony smirks and sips his whiskey. “You should see the poster he has of you in his room! Out of everything I thought he’d have, that wasn’t it.” Steve could feel his cheeks becoming red. Feeling your gaze on the side of his face didn’t help. 
You smile, resting your hand gently on his shoulder. “I’d like to see. It’s quite an honour to know Captain America has a poster of me in his room.” Steve’s mouth opens and closes, looking up at you with wide eyes. “Do you think you could give me a tour, Captain?” Steve gulps as he nods, trying to will away the erection currently straining against his slacks. He had to try and think of everything that would make his cock go soft, but no matter what. His mind would return to you and what you’d look like underneath him as he splits you open. 
“U–Um… Maybe you should get yourself a drink before we go….” His smile is strained, he didn’t think this would be his first impression when he met you, and he deeply regrets it. Steve watches you nod and head over to the bar. His gaze on your ass doesn’t exactly help him. His eyes close as he takes a deep breath, trying to get his cock to soften so he can show you his room. At the thought, his eyes shoot open. You were going to be in his room… Steve abruptly stands, ignoring the snickering from his team as he makes his way over to you. 
“Ready for the tour?” You smile up at him, nodding as your lips wrap around the straw. Steve clears his throat and quickly rests his hand on your lower back as he leads you over to the elevator. “I–I’m not a creep or anything… I’m just a big fan of your work….” He squirms, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at you. 
“It’s okay, Steve. As I said, it’s an honour.” You giggle at the blush on his cheeks, feeling your heart pounding in your chest from being so close to your crush. You continue to sip your drink, secretly making a show of sucking the straw, when you notice his attention on your lips. The sound of the elevator door opening interrupts Steve’s staring and your sucking. You shiver when his hand lands back onto your lower back as he leads you out of the metal box and toward his room. 
Steve stops you in front of his closed door, quickly peeking his head inside and looking around to ensure his room isn’t a complete mess. Before opening his door fully and smiling at you, “Well, here’s my room….” You walk inside, looking around in awe, surprised by the room's colours. 
“So this is Captain America’s room. It’s nice.” You smile, walking over to the poster that hangs across his bed, grinning at the picture he had chosen. A brow raises when you spot a slight stain. You reach up and slowly trace it, not noticing the blush that appears on Steve’s face as he realises what it is. You look at him with a smirk, “So tell me, Captain. Am I the first girl to get a tour of your room?” His blush deepens, squirming around as he nods. 
“Yeah… I–I don’t really have female company.” You gasp, a smirk still on your lips.
“And why not? I’ve seen the groups that latch onto you, begging for your attention. You’ve never thought to take one home and ruin them?” You stalk closer, running a perfectly manicured nail up his arm. “Throw them around like your own personal ragdoll? Finish inside of them instead of on my poster? Or am I the special one? Lucky enough to gain your attention?” 
Steve’s eyes widen, his mouth opening and closing in shock. His cock begins to harden again, straining against his pants. “U–Uh… I don’t… I don’t know what you're talking about….” His hand clenches and unclenches, trying to hold himself back from taking you, throwing you onto the bed and splitting you open was the only thing replaying in his head.
“It’s okay to let go, Captain. Give into your desires, let go of all that control….” You bat your eyelashes as you look up at him, dragging your finger down his chest. A squeak escapes you as Steve grabs hold of you and pushes you onto his bed, climbing on top of your tiny form and glaring down at you.
“What is it you want? You want me to split you open like a whore, you little minx? Want to be known as Captain America’s slut?” He growls, pinning you underneath him and resting his leg against your core. You whimper, biting your lip as you gaze up at him with lustful eyes, nodding your head as you squirm against him. “You walk in, dressed like a whore, only to be used like one.” You begin to feel slick building between your thighs at this side of Steve, wondering who you’d have to thank for it. “I bet you’re so fucking wet that I don’t even need to prepare you, just split you open with my cock from the beginning.” 
You whimper, nodding your head as you spread your legs open wider. “Please, please! Steve!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his hand wraps tightly around your throat.
“It’s Captain to you, whore.” His eyes are dark as his mind becomes clouded, cock threatening to break the material of his pants with how hard he is.
You nod again. “Y–Yes, Captain!” 
Steve smirks, “Not so good with words now, huh? Just needed to throw you around like a ragdoll for you to shut up.” His hands make quick work of sliding your skirt up, exposing your bare cunt, and his eyes widen as his cock twitches. “You naughty fucking slut, coming to a party with nothing underneath.” 
You whine as you try to shrug. “It caused lines….” A whimper escapes as his hand makes contact, slapping your sopping cunt, hitting your swollen pearl. “Captain!” 
“Look at how wet you are.” He lifts his hand and shows you the juices that glisten on his skin. “Who made you this wet, doll? Hmm?” Steve moves closer to your face before slipping his fingers inside your mouth. “Not going to answer me? Too busy sucking on my fingers like a slut?” He opens your mouth with his fingers and leans forward, spitting inside and glaring down at you. “Swallow.” Steve smiles when he sees you obey him, slapping your cheek softly with his wet hand. “Good girl, at least I know you can follow orders.” He swiftly takes his cock out, groaning and staring deep into your eyes as he strokes himself before rubbing his tip into your slit, eyes rolling back as he finally feels you against him. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, how fucking happy I am to have you beneath me finally.” Steve lines his tip up with your entrance, locking eyes when he begins to push in slowly. 
A strained moan escapes you, eyes rolling back as you feel him stretching and splitting you open all at once, your head flies back, and your back arches, pressing your body into him. “S–So big!” moans continue to leave you as Steve pushes in deeper and deeper until all of him is so deep inside you that it feels like he’s in your stomach. “Oh… Too deep!” 
Steve grunts above you, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist as he thrusts, delivering harsh blows into your tight hole, gripping your hips and throat. Everything becomes too much for Steve. Finally, feeling you around him and having sex made him feel fuzzy. Your moans are like music to his ears, and the feeling of your wet cunt swallowing his monstrous cock feels like heaven. “You feel so good, doll. So tight and warm around my cock, you like your Captain’s cock?” 
Your head moves up and down, no words leaving you. Your mind feels dizzy from his thrusts, nails digging into his skin and legs tightening around his waist to try and bring him closer. You cling to the large man, a man who could squash you without a second thought. You try and move your hips along with his thrusts, crying out when his tip slams into your sweet spot. “Mmph… C–Cap…” Your eyes roll back, your vision becoming white as your mouth opens into a silent scream. Your walls clench and squeeze Steve’s cock, pulsating around him as your juices squirt out and cover him and his bedsheets. 
Steve growls, eyes hazed with lust as he watches you cum. He leans down and presses his lips against yours, bringing you into a rushed, messy kiss as his thrusts begin to get sloppy, his balls tightening and his cock twitching as spurts of large amounts of thick cum shoot out of his angry mushroom tip and deep inside your awaiting womb. He whimpers against your lips, emptying himself into you until it begins to leak from your used hole and onto the bed. There’s silence for a moment as you both try to catch your breath. You whimper when Steve slowly pulls out of you, his gaze locked on your gaping hole as his cum leaks out of you. 
Steve gets up and heads off somewhere while you lie there, eyes fluttering closed, and you wince when you feel something damp swiping across your sensitive folds. You blink and look down, your gaze softening when you notice Steve cleaning you up, sending you a gentle smile. He leaves again, only to come back and begin to strip you and himself before replacing your clothes with one of his shirts and sliding boxers up your legs to cover you before he places a pair on his lower half. You watch him become hesitant in climbing into the bed until you pat the spot next to you. As soon as he lies down, you crawl closer and wrap yourself around him, snuggling close to the large man. 
Steve rests his hand on your lower back and looks down at you with a soft smile, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on your head before resting back down into his pillow. “Thank you.” His hand begins to rub up and down your back, eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion sets in.
You hum, pressing a kiss into his chest before closing your eyes.
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