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buckys-wintersoldier · 1 month

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Need someone older | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> DBF!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your dad’s best friend, Steve Rogers, has a kind that makes your body reacts in a needy way whenever he is around you. So when your dad is taking a shower he shows you that he can help your arching feeling better as the boys you know from university.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.019

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, praises, dirty talk, age gap

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

“Hey, babygirl,” a rough, familiar voice says behind you, and the man behind you smirks when you hum in response.

You turn around to face the blond, tall man behind you. Your dad’s best friend - Steve Rogers. He is as tall as your dad, muscular, and has short blond hair. His beard is trimmed, and for a moment, you get lost in your thoughts. You love that look, especially because it defines his ocean blue eyes and gives you a lot of thoughts that aren’t as innocent as you look like. You always have a thing for older men, and for Steve even more; his stubble would probably feel so good between your legs while his long, thick fingers slide in and out of you. You try not to moan when you just think about the filthy things he could do to you. You’re pretty small compared to him, and it makes your knees weak. Your pussy starts dripping whenever you’re close to him. And the way your lips are parting so slightly that no one sees it, your eyes so filled with lust, but you just smile and nod softly. Steve chuckles, like he always does when he sees the reaction he has on you, the way you act when he is around you, pressing your legs together, digging your nails in the hem of your shirt, or the surface of the kitchen counter. He sees the way your eyes roam over his muscular body - little do you know he wears shirts that fit like a second skin. Steve enjoys the way your lips are parted, knowing that you think no one sees the way you stare at him, almost drooling over the older man.

“Like what you see?” He tears, walking a step closer, so you have to look up to look into his face and his beautiful blue eyes. “Answer me. Tell me, do you like what you see? Don’t be shy.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you whimper. His smile grows when he has the reaction he wants to have. You make him go crazy, and he doesn’t need to do much more than stand there. Steve loves to see how small you look, the way you don’t manage to get a word out when he looks into your eyes, the way you clench your thighs and whimper - for relief, wanting him to help you get rid of the aching feeling between your legs. His hand glides to your waist, and he pulls you closer. Your chin almost touches his broad chest, which causes a gasp to leave your lips. His fingers digging into the soft skin of yours, a shiver running along your spine, and you grip the kitchen counter behind you tighter, trying to ground yourself.

“Rogers. Do you annoy her again?” Your dad shouts from behind, and Steve grins.

“Do I, princess?” He asks loudly enough for Bucky to hear him.

You shake your head, but Steve lets go of you to smile softly and walk to Bucky. He smirks at him before they walk out of the kitchen and into the garden. Your breath hitches, your hands are shaking, and your knees are weak. Your nails are digging into the surface of the counter behind you, helping you not to fall down. This man can do things you didn’t know he could do; your panties are soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even touched you in a way that could explain your throbbing pussy.

“Dinner is ready in half an hour,” Bucky tells you, and when you reply with a short one, he continues his conversation with Steve.

You made your way to the living room, letting yourself slip on the couch while you watched television. Bucky and Steve are still in the garden, taking about everything and nothing. Your legs are pressed together, and while your head rests against the backrest, your mind is going wild with thoughts about what your dad’s best friend could do with you - with his tongue, with his fingers, or with his dick. You have never thought about it, but you’re sure he is huge. And Steve is experienced in bed, so he will probably do a good job when he fucks a woman, making her scream his name while she comes over his dick over and over again. Just the thought makes you wetter as you already are, and you press your thighs further together, trying to get some friction at your arching pussy. How would it feel when Steve just had a taste of you? When his stubble brushes so softly against your thigh and your pussy or when his thick fingers disappear between your wet, tight walls. He would be more talented than the guys your age, but he is your dad’s best friend and almost double your age. You’re probably not even his type of woman. Maybe you should just date some guys your age, but they are not like Steve - not so nice and handsome.

“Buck is taking a shower, then we can eat,” Steve suddenly says and stands next to you.

“O-Oke,” you mumble, and for a moment you get lost in his beautiful blue eyes.

“You haven’t answered my question earlier. So did you like what you saw?”

You smile softly; it’s more than just that you like to see him standing in front of you; you imagine filthy things he could do to you.

“Yes, I-I like what I see when you’re standing in front of me.”

Your cheeks heat up, and you turn your head away. Steve chuckles, adoring the way you try to hide the red on your cheeks, trying to hide that you’re throbbing wet because of him. He lets himself fall down next to you on the couch, his arm resting on the backrest behind you. You feel warmth rushing through the part between your legs, causing you to press your thighs together.

“I like what I see when I’m standing in front of you too, babydoll.”

The gasp that leaves your lips makes the older man chuckle. His grin playfully, and his eyes were glistening with lust. Steve’s hand slides up and down his thigh, inching closer to his dick, and you follow his hand with your eyes before you let your gaze roam over his body, looking at his hand, which is now covering the growing bulge in his pants. Your breath hitches when you see his dick pressing his pants up. You’re adorable when you look at him like that. You can’t keep your eyes off of his bulge while he slides his hand slowly over it.

“I- Are you-?”

“Hard because of you? Yes, wanna give me a helping hand?” He asks, smirking.

“D- You- Stevie-“ you stutter, your eyes widening while you look at him.

Your eyes meet, and you almost don’t recognize him leaning closer. Only when his hands find your hips and his fingers trail slowly under the fabric of your shirt. His touch feels like electricity, and you gasp once again. Steve lifts you up like you weigh nothing and places you on his lap, his bulge pressing against your core. You moan softly when you move a bit, feeling the friction between your legs and his bulge growing underneath you.

“B-But dad can hear us,” you say quietly, placing your hands on his shoulders to push you up.

Steve holds you firmly on his lap, pushing you back down on his covered dick when you try to push yourself off of him. He moves your hips slowly over his bulge. You whimper and close your eyes for a moment while he groans. The older man pushes his hips upward, pushing his dick more against you. The movements make you moan and whimper softly. You then let your head fall forward and against his shoulder. Steve smirks. He loves the way you let him touch you like that, the way your body reacts to his touches, and he loves to see you all desperate for his dick, grinding against his bulge.

“He won’t unless you’re loud. But he wanted to take a shower so he wouldn’t hear or see us,” Steve says, looking into your eyes when you push yourself up.

Your lips are just inches away from one another, and his tongue glides over his bottom lip, his glistening saliva coating the soft, plump lips, and your eyes switch from his eyes to his lips back to his eyes. Then he leans closer and captures your lips with his. He moves your hips harshly over his hard dick. You moan into the kiss and slide your hands into his hair, tugging at them. You would like to feel him inside of you; he feels huge, and it makes your cunt drip more, causing arousal to soak your panties.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. So hungry and desperate for my dick. You want a man, don’t you? Someone who takes care of you and knows how to treat you right, to make you feel good,” he mumbles against your lips, and you moan in response.

Steve smirks and kisses your jawline and along your neck. His fingers are digging into your skin, while you feel the feeling of pleasure growing in your stomach. Your whimpering turns more and more into moaning. You tug harsher at his hair, and Steve knows that your orgasm is just as close as he is.

“Feeling good, princess? Feeling like a princess on daddy’s cock, huh? Wanna feel it inside of you?” He asks, and you can’t help but throw your head back, grinding harder against him.

He knows exactly what to say and what to do to make a woman go crazy, to make her even more desperate, and to make her feel good. Steve stops your movements, and you immediately look at him, confused about why he stopped you.

“Please- so, so close,” you whimper, pouting softly.

“Answer my question. Do you feel like a princess on daddy’s cock?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Wanna feel daddy’s huge dick inside of your little pussy? Is she already begging for attention?”

“Y-Yes, begging for daddy’s attention,” you mumble, trying to grind against him.

He laughs softly before he lets you grind over his bulge. You’re a moaning mess on top of him, bringing both of you closer to the edge. He enjoys the view of you humping him like a desperate slut, and that’s what you are right now. You would agree with him; should he ask you, you would tell him you’re his little desperate slut.

“Please, c-can I come?” you ask, pressing your lips against Steve’s.

“Come for me; soak your panties, pretty girl. Make daddy come in his pants,” he groans, pressing you further down on his covered dick.

You move a few more times over his bulge before the two of you come into your pants, breathing heavily, and Steve kisses you once more to make you shut up while he helps you to move, riding out your orgasm.

“You’re so good for me; daddy’s proud of you, princess.”

Just in time, you two catch your breath, and you’re sitting next to him, talking about the university, when your dad appears with a towel around his waist. His hair is wet, and the water is still flowing down his body.

“Take on some clothes; your daughter doesn’t need to see you naked, Buck," Steve laughs and earns a groan from Bucky.

You’re still calming down from your orgasm; imagine Steve walking with just a towel, wet hair, and his body glistening through the apartment.

“How about I take care of you when Bucky is on his work drip?” Steve asks quietly, and you smile softly before you nod, leaning in for a short kiss before he gets up and walks outside to finally eat.

You follow him. Steve would prefer something else instead of the barbecue he and your dad just made, but he still enjoys it. Especially when he sees your still-red cheeks with the knowledge that your pants are soaked with your cum.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber

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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 2 months

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← Smutlet masterlist

18+ Dry Humping

It had been a long time. Being an Avenger didn’t leave much time for … what was the phrase? … hooking up. You changed all that. Steve was nervous, he hadn’t liked anyone like that since he lost Peggy. But with you, he was smitten. Taking things slow was something you had requested and he fully supported it.

But it was getting more and more dangerous to have you sit in his lap. The way you looked, the way you smelled, the way you tasted, it overwhelmed his senses. Your kisses were always so sensual, like you poured your soul into them. They tasted like ambrosia, the nectar of the Gods.

Today was the first time you noticed the substantial bulge in his pants. It was pushed right between your hips as you sat facing him, your thighs straddling his. It had begun innocently, you'd had no seductive agenda when you had thrown yourself into his arms.

It had started with a soft brush, your crotch against his. Your intent hadn't been to arouse him, but that was the effect you achieved. It had merely been a simple readjustment, but it stirred something deep inside him. Steve found his hands gripping your hips tightly. Pulling you close. His lips never really left yours, as he pushed up against you. Acting on instinct. Moaning into your mouth as you pushed back against him. Your enthusiasm told him you were just as invested as he was, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Your movements were haphazard, desperate but playful. Neither of you ready enough to take the next step but both of you hungry for more. There was no synchronicity to the way you drove your hips against each other but you could feel the other's pleasure. His cock twitched excitedly inside his jeans, needy, covetous throbbing under you. It was begging to be freed and given relief from his growing tension.

In your mind, you considered this an appetizer, an amuse-bouche to the platter you wanted to offer yourself on. You thought the denim barrier between you would only be sufficient enough to wet his appetite. So consumed by the taste of him that you failed to notice his grip on your thighs, the way his fingers dig into your flesh. Spurred on by the salacious moans and whines that tumbled from his mouth into yours, you grind down harder.

Before you know it, his breath hitched and he stopped pushing back against you, letting out a low groan. Steve had mastered the art of hiding his feelings, but he didn't look you in the eyes. His ears betrayed him, flushing a perfect pink in embarrassment. Confusion was etched on your face as you pulled away, assessing the situation. A moment of blind panic hit you. Why had he stopped? Only when you lifted your hips off his, did you notice the damp dark patch on his jeans. It was spreading before your very eyes and you immediately knew what had happened. Your illustrious Captain had blown his load before you'd had a chance to touch him.

“Steve,” you cooed at him in a reassuring tone. You peppered a few gentle kisses across his face. “Did you like that, baby?”

He chuckled, darkly. “How can you expect a guy to be patient when you do these things looking like you do?”

It's your turn to blush. “Are you saying this is my fault, Captain?” you asked coyly.

“Entirely,” he grinned, beautiful blue eyes darkening dangerously. “But seeing as I'm a gentleman, let me make it up to you.”

You unzipped his jeans and freed his still hard cock. Your fingers now covered in his white hot seed. He was still sensitive to every stroke and caress. And you knew your captain wasn’t as innocent as he seemed.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fan fiction #skittle's smutlets

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 days

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the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on.

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you.

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window.

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap.

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor.

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair.

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?”

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…”

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him.

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.”

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.”

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper.

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist.

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase.

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more.

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in.

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower.

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?”

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed.

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?”

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you.

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation.

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt.

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them.

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard.

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.”

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet.

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past.

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night.

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet.

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth.

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him.

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair.

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth.

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded.

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip.

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night.

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were.

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath.

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move.

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp.

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him.

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock.

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts.

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were.

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you.

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase.

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt.

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head.

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close.

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric.

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl.

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently.

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth.

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole.

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind.

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?”

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

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visionsofmagic · 6 months

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day 15: steve rogers [face sitting]

࿓ synopsis • after caps shaves his beard a question pops into your mind – how it would feel to sit on his now clean face?

―❦ nsfw, licking, f!reader, cum, oral > f receiving, choking, pet names, begging, slapping, hair pulling, fingering, ordering, a bit daddy like steve, ‘is all! • 0.9k • CAN IMAGINE NOMAD!STEVE OR TWS!STEVE. we can agree that every version of steve rogers is breathtaking, so, I wanted to write something breathtaking as well, including him. so, enjoy! [kinktober m.]

“you gotta be joking!” you said when you saw his face after he took a shower, went in with a beard, and came back with a clean face – shining in pure attractiveness, mesmerizing you enough that the words came out of you without your control, “I wonder how it will feel sit on your face.”

the next you know is that you are sitting on his face, the way you wanted it to be, as he lies down on the bed, hands gripping your ass, pushing your soaking pussy onto his face further, humming in response whenever he gets the chance to lick you, eat you, bite you – simply tasting you as if you’re the sweetest thing his tongue has ever tried.

“cmon princess,” he says, looking at you from below, eyes sparkling with the delight of seeing you in such a position – breasts bouncing, eyes blurry, mind dizzy, hands on his hair to pull and hold to stay still as you beg for more – close to the edge yet your face is full of heat, eyes avoiding to meet with his blue ones that give you weakness on the knees because of how beautiful he’s looking at you right now.

he gets that you’re shy – can’t let you go, sit on his face completely and ride him as you get the pleasure your pussy seeks with the help of him and his warm tongue inside your folds. “don’t be shy,” he adds, smiling – ensuring you that it’s okay for you to put pressure on your weight, “sit on my face. you were the one who asked for it, weren’t you?” he teases, earning a low moan – both annoyed and excited tone can be heard.

“steve!”

he chuckles, kissing your inner thighs, looking at your face still in a way that can make you cum without even fucking his mouth. “okay, okay. no teasing. just sit on me doll, I can handle it.”

you know he can handle it! the captain has a strength that makes you a lightweight compared to it, yet, you don’t want to hurt him because you know how much you want to do it – how much you will break and use his mouth without thinking about anything else.

however, your indecision comes to an end when he spanks your ass, making your body jolt to the front, pussy travels on his clean face, earning a louder moan from you. eyes shut, you hold his hair tighter. his fingers join his tongue on your folds, then, slowly, ending your core, burning there. “sit on my face.” he orders, sounding hazardous, bringing his captain persona into the bed – the one you like to have whenever he fucks you good.

breaking into pieces, the last crumbles of dilemma disappear, leaving the lust behind.

looking at his eyes, you sit on his face entirely after saying, “y-yes, captain – ooh – cap!”

he wastes no time when he has you, tongue entering into you deeper, fingers join to it, both go in and out in sync, one after another, leaving you no time to adjust – to relax, no, he wants to make your legs shake, and he successes a few minutes after he continues doing the same thing – pussy is filled – is full with both his fingers and mouth, eyes on you, pride and enjoyment are visible on his face.

moaning his name in repeat, “steve – aggh – oh my! steve, ‘s so good, a – and, ohh, so much!” your hips move on their own, going forth and back on his face, nose touching your pussy too, making the pressure go higher – all the sense of your body appears on your lower part from the abdomen, making you go crazy as eyes roll back – the only thing you want is to cum – right into his open mouth and face, and it’s exactly what steve wants as well.

gripping you from the back of your inner thighs, he makes you sit onto his face further as if it’s possible, fingers leave your abused clit, only tongue remains – effective as ever, it sends pleasure to your body, licking it from the bottom to top, biting the flesh a little.

you – making a mess on him, don’t have no idea you’re coming until you reach the highness and slowly coming to your senses after he commands, “cum onto my face pretty, wanna taste it.”

legs get weaker each passing time because of the exhaustion hitting you, collapsing onto his chest, hands on his shoulders as you breathe deeply. his chest too – rising up and down, rapid breaths, shining lips, half of his face getting dirty with your cum.

his hands hold you from the waist, raising your body up like its weight means nothing, then, putting you down on his lap after getting up, leaning on the headboard of the bed. pride’s marks on his smiling face as he hugs you from the back, pulling you closer to his chest.

he caresses your face and lets you clean his with the towel you brought before.

“so,” he says, playful tone in his voice, “how it felt?”

shaking your head, you chuckle, “always such a teaser captain,” putting a kiss on his lips, you wink at him, “it was good.” a total lie – it was magnificent, yet, you decide to tease him, see if he will break and prove himself more – about how he can be the best, not just good. “is that so?” he asks, playing your little game – pushing your body onto your back, he hovers above you, a hand goes to unzip his pants as he looks at you – dominant. “then, let me do my best for my pretty greedy girl.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear @chloee0x0 *lots of kisses!*

#🔥 kinktober 2023 second week #kinktober 2023 #mcu #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain america smut #captain america x y/n #thanks for being such handsome guy with both beard and not with it steve made me think about sitting on his face so here we are!#hope you enjoyed!

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧’, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’

It was only meant to be a visit — to get to know them better, learn of their dynamic and learn just how you would fit in. They, however, had other ideas.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ༄ Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ༄ 5.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ༄ Fluff, aftercare ჻჻჻ SMUT: Oral (F + M receiving), fingering, protected piv, mutiple orgasms, denied orgasm, dom/sub/switch dynamics ჻჻჻ KINKS: Dirty talk, praise, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degredation, dumbification, objectification

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ༄ Look at those warnings, huh? Yeah, have fun folks. ✌ ༄ A very special thank you to my love, @duckybarnes1917's for your help and encouragement when I pitched this idea to you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ༄ Eat Your Young by Hozier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ༄ @sgt-seabass

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ༄ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟰 — First Responder AU — Masterlist

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been only a few days since that encounter at the station.

Embers had settled like lead weights in your stomach, lighting up your nerves with a mere spark – more often than not it was their text tone, or the sound of their honeyed voices on a call that was the culprit and soul cause, and the bastards knew it, too.

Very little deliberation was needed to come to your decision. An inane part of you, perhaps closer to the surface than you cared to admit, nor acknowledge, wanted this. You wanted to be a part of what they were, you wanted to feel the warmth of the love they could give, and… many other things.

Before that thought could dig its claws too deep, the open roller doors of the station came into view, and you took a deep breath as you walked up the driveway. Steve and Bucky had asked you to pop in for a visit, and they had offered to take you home when their shift ended – naturally, you had been apprehensive about just whose home you’d be returning to.

“There she is!” Steve called, making his way down the driveway with Bucky peeking around the doorway with a bright smile. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Steve said, glancing you up and down – and the action didn’t leave your skin crawling as you had felt all too many times before with other men, rather, you felt shy. “How’re you doing?”

“Good– I’m good, Stevie,” you replied, happily accepting his hug.

“Hey! Nuh-uh,” Bucky rushed, jogging over, a full pout on his lips. “My turn.” Steve laughed and let you go, only for you to be swept into Bucky’s arms and off your feet. “She’s mine now, punk,” Bucky called, carrying you as he stalked into the station, ignorant of your breathless laugh and pleas to be let down. “Shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Let me down, Buck,” you laughed, hitting his shoulder with your hand and holding around the back of his neck for dear life with the other. “Please!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky soothed, and he set you gently down on your feet. “There you go. Now, we’re cutting our shift short because Nat and Peter were gracious enough to come in an hour early.”

“Bless ‘em,” Steve cut in. “So, we can head home, decompress and relax, y’know.” The not-so-subtle wink and sly smirk gracing Steve’s handsome features only caused the inferno to ignite.

Before you could reply, Bucky shoved him towards the locker room. “Get a move on then.”

Steve left with a salute and that left Bucky and you standing beside a parked fire truck. You went to open your mouth to speak, but a quiet yipping noise stalled the cogs in your mind, and you stared at Bucky with wide eyes. “Was that a dog?”

The sheepish shrug and shy smile that grew on his lips made him look so much younger – a boy caught red handed with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yeah… surprise?”

“You have a dog?”

Bucky went to open his mouth when the door leading to the office opened abruptly, and Peter appeared. “Oh, hey! It’s good to see you- whoa!”

You watched in awe as Peter stumbled, pushed to the side by two fast blurs darting out from behind his feet. They were small, but fast and over excited, the exact embodiment of what a puppy–puppies, would be. “You have puppies!”

“Yeah, yeah- Captain, no! Sit,” Bucky commanded, and you watched as the most excited of the two fell back from scrambling up your knees to his back legs in a perfect, fluid movement. You crouched down to be level with the two black and white – Dalmatian – puppies, cooing at them quietly. The smaller and calmer of the two stared up at you through bright blue eyes curiously, a slight tilt to their head.

“Who are these precious babies?” You asked, offering a hand to them so they could sniff. “They’re adorable.”

Bucky groaned as he kneeled down. “‘M gettin’ too old for this shit,” he joked, and you chuckled.

“You’re ageing like a fine wine, Buck,” you replied before you thought better of it, and your eyes widened. Shit, you silently cursed.

“Why thank you, honey,” Bucky purred. Fuck. “Anyway,” he continued, pointing at the larger of the two puppies. “This is Captain, he’s Stevie’s boy.” You cooed at Captain and he whined quietly, wiggling with excitement. “And this,” Bucky pointed at the smaller puppy, a soft smile on his lips and eyes bright with love, “is Cleo. She’s my little girl.”

“I love them so much,” you gushed, not realising how Bucky’s gaze that held so much adoration and softness for his little Cleo, to you. “How old are they?”

“Old enough to be terrors,” Steve said above you and you jumped. “We goin’ home?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, getting to his feet with a huff. “You ready, doll?”

You nodded and scratched behind Captain and Cleo’s ears. “Do they stay here, or-”

“No,” Steve laughed, smiling fondly down at the two puppies. “C’mon guys, home time.” Like a scene from a Disney movie, the two bounding balls of energy ran after Steve as he walked out of the station, presumably towards their car.

The jingling of keys pulled you from the sight of Steve’s broad back and you looked over at Bucky to see him already staring at you, a brow raised and an arrogant smirk plastered on his lips. “Quit ooglin’ my husband, honey,” he said, his voice low. “A fella might get the idea you want him more.”

You had the sense to roll your eyes at his dramatic ways, and he laughed as he slung an arm over your shoulder. His grin was contagious and you couldn’t help but mimic it as he walked you out the door, pointing the set of keys to a huge pick-up truck. “Let’s go home, hey?”

The drive home was sat in comfortable silence, interrupted by bouts of banter and the barking yips of overexcited puppies. Before long, Bucky pulled the truck into the driveway of a modest home reminiscent of a brownstone flat – the yard was small but tidy, and there was a two-car garage attached to the side.

“Alright,” Steve said around a yawn. The puppies in his lap shifted and whined restlessly. “Welcome to our humble abode, sweetheart.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

Bucky made a small noise of contentment and slid out the driver's seat, while you shifted and followed Steve off the bench seat and out the passenger door. The puppies ran onto the yard and jumped over one another, making you giggle at their antics.

You could hear Bucky moving around the front of the truck and you went to look over your shoulder at him, only to jump and gasp in fright as Steve’s hand – callused and warm, grabbed your own and threaded his fingers through yours. “Easy, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, tightening his grip. “C’mon, come inside.”

With little choice, but with no hesitation, you followed Steve as he followed Bucky to the front door of their home. “Captain, Cleo– here,” Bucky called, and the two puppies ran between the gaps and through the doorway. “Bring our girl in, punk,” Bucky goaded, watching Steve as he stood in the doorway, still holding your hand and staring at you with an unreadable expression – Bucky’s voice seemed to wake him from his trance and he pulled you inside.

The fact that Bucky moved to stand right behind you as soon as you walked through the threshold of their home, sent a chill of something up your spine and that pit of embers to become a sparking heap again.

“D’you want something to drink, darlin’?” Steve asked. The endearment made your eyes widen only slightly and you recovered just in time to ask for some water – just.

Captain and Cleo moved to settle on a giant dog bed in the living room beside the open doorway, and Bucky put a hand on your lower back, urging you forward into the cosy room and towards a couch. “Make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, taking a seat between three giant pillows. Opting for comfort in this new environment and in the presence of these two Gods among men, you grabbed one and leant it on your knees, hugging it to your chest.

You watched as Bucky toed off his boots and slipped the suspenders off his shoulders, only he caught you staring and he smirked. “You’re so adorable, honey,” Bucky cooed and you felt hot, the cinders in your stomach igniting into a dull roar. “‘M gonna go get changed, Stevie will be with you in just a second, alright?”

As if Bucky had summoned him, Steve appeared around the corner, wearing sweats and a white tank top with a glass of water in one hand, a mug filled with a steaming liquid in the other. Steve and Bucky smiled at one another, and you watched with your mouth slightly agape as Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s neck roughly and pulled him into a kiss – holy fucking shit, you cursed.

The visual was burnt into your eyelids and you took a deep breath just as they pulled apart, and Bucky departed – though not before he smacked Steve on the ass, the latter only rolling his eyes in response.

“Here you go,” Steve said, offering you the glass of water before falling onto the couch next to you. He groaned loudly and threw his head back over the back of the couch and shuffled his legs so his thighs were spread, and you couldn’t resist the urge to stare at the way his muscles moved and pulled taut to show off that damned jawline. “You stare any longer, sweetheart, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Dammit, you swore. So much for subtlety.

More to distract yourself, you took a gulp of water and placed the cup down on a coaster on the coffee table. A low huff and whine came from the dog bed next to the couch and you looked over to see Cleo already staring at you sleepily. “Such an adorable baby girl,” you cooed.

“Nope, that’s you, honey,” Bucky said suddenly and you almost squeaked – thankfully you killed the noise in your throat before you could embarrass yourself further. “I know we talk every day at this point,” he continued, flopping down on your other side, and tucking his knee up under his other thigh so he could face you. “But how are you–how have you been feeling?”

It was difficult to discern just what he was asking – was he asking about how you felt about them? About the risque and teasing texts and calls you had more often than not initiated?

“Don’t stress that pretty head of yours, honey, I meant exactly what I asked,” Bucky said quietly, and you felt Steve shift next to you, his interest obviously piqued. “How are you doing? Work, all that shit.”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved. “I’ve been good, work has been busy–but I’ve been good.”

“We know,” Steve purred, his breath suddenly very hot against your neck. “Because you’re our good girl, aren’t you?”

You blanched. “What the-”

Their laughter broke the tension – deep belly laughs and wide grins, though when you looked at Steve, his grin had something else teasing, wolfish, and you found you liked it.

“I would say I’m sorry,” Steve tried, grinning and flicking his gaze between Bucky and your deer-in-headlights-esque shock. “But I’m really not.”

“You fuckin’ menace, Stevie,” Bucky chuckled. “Leave ‘er alone!”

“What the hell was that?” You demanded, a grin teasing your own lips. In no way were you mad, though you were shocked with the visceral reaction to those simple words had on you – you knew you liked it, but that much?

You were doomed.

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Steve sighed, still grinning, though he eyed you like a wolf who had cornered his prey. The air became thin and you felt Bucky shifting closer – the tension in the room crescendoed and your breath hitched as they fell silent, the heat of their combined gazes almost too much to bear.

“Sweetheart,” Steve started, his voice low, tentative; an unspoken hesitance. “We brought you home to get to know you, and we are going to get to know you, just as you would get to know us, but,” he leant forward and time stopped – Steve was in your space, unyielding and determined to be heard. “Do you want this?”

“This?” You echoed breathlessly, only to end on a gasp when Bucky’s hand moved to your neck – no pressure exerted, no sense of danger, but a promise and an intention that stole your breath completely. You could feel Bucky’s thumb brushing soothingly against the side of your neck, but it only sent your head spinning.

Damn him for listening when you let slip you had enjoyed the thought of his or Steve’s hand around your throat.

“Listen to Stevie, honey,” Bucky said, his tone firm and insistent.

“You call the shots here,” Steve continued, though his gaze flickered from Bucky’s hand to your face. “But, to be honest, I want this–so does Buck, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine,” Bucky growled. “What d’you say, doll?”

Blood pounded in your ears and you gulped, the movement against his hand made Bucky exhale heavily. “Yeah–Yeah I want this, I want it-”

“You tell us to stop if you need us to,” Steve commanded, watching only you and you met his gaze. “Understood?”

“Understood,” you answered.

The wolves pounced. Bucky tightened his grip on the sides of your neck while his other hand went to your hair, gripping it and pulling gently so your face was tilted up, where Steve claimed your mouth – his kiss was surprisingly soft, gentle from what you had expected.

“Bedroom, now,” Bucky rasped, and Steve pulled back, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Steve growled, his voice just as raspy as Bucky’s – like your admission and want for this had turned them feral. They pulled you to your feet and you gasped with the rush. “Jump, darlin’,” Steve demanded, and hazy as you felt, you did as you were told; only for the ground to become suddenly very far away. “Atta girl.”

Steve was carrying you – he was carrying you, and Bucky’s hand was insistently groping at Steve’s ass as he carried you down a hallway. “How are you-”

“Firefighter, honey,” Bucky drawled while he kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot. Steve placed you gently down on the bed and stood up, and when Steve moved to shuck down his sweats, Bucky whined, his hands flying forward and gripping Steve’s shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss – teeth and tongue clashing like they were going to consume one another.

Bucky pulled back only far enough to pull down Steve’s sweats, boxers included. “Mine, don’t do my job, Stevie- Fuck,” Bucky breathed, rushing to literally tear at Steve’s tank top with ease.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, and the two turned their heads to look at you – Steve’s expression heightened with a smug smirk, while Bucky looked at you through hooded eyes and a wolfish grin.

“She’s pretty, ain’t she, Stevie?” Bucky said through his teeth, his gaze flashing dangerously. “I wan’ her.”

“Go to her, baby,” Steve ordered. The tone sent your stomach into a fit and the inferno spread like wildfire through your every last nerve – the intensity sending a rush of vertigo and you found yourself reaching out, desperate to touch. “Go on, you don’t stop until she comes, understood?”

Heaven above, you wondered if you could come alone from those words.

“C’mere,” Bucky said, pulling you to your feet. With just as much ease as he had torn–undressed Steve, Bucky left you standing bare for only a solitary second before he pulled you onto the bed with a low, rumbling growl. The pillows were soft under your head and you sighed happily as Bucky settled his boxer-clad hips between your spread thighs. “You alright, honey?”

“I’m great,” you grinned, and Bucky laughed before he surged forward, marking the column of your throat with expert precision until your eyes fluttered closed. “Bucky, please-”

“Please what, sweetheart?” Steve asked, hovering by the head of the bed before he reached over and fisted Bucky’s hair, pulling back harshly. The moan that left Bucky’s lips made your breath stutter. “What do you want? Tell us.”

Bucky moved and tilted his head down, and whether it was a help or a hindrance, his clothed cock rubbed insistently against your clit and you moaned. “Be a good girl for us, honey,” he whispered, and he dropped to his elbows, caging you against him.

“Please, please, I- I need to-”

“You want to come, is that it, darlin’?” Steve pondered. His gaze suddenly pinned Bucky in place, a realisation behind his flickered aggression. “Buck, baby, you didn’t do as you were told.”

Bucky froze before he lowered his head against your neck, mouthing at it while moving his hips against your heat torturously slow. “‘M gettin’ to it, Stevie,” he replied, his breath hot against your neck and suddenly, he started sucking in earnest – the sharp, intense feeling forcing a choked moan from you.

“Get to it faster, then,” Steve admonished. You could sense the eye roll Bucky hid by the curtain of his hair, but he still moved down your body, mouthing at your skin and leaving a trail of heat that culminated between your hips – unbearably so.

You watched, your breath hitching, while Bucky moved your legs either side of his head so your thighs rested on his broad, muscled, and tattooed shoulders. “Oh, god-” You tried, only for your breath to stutter and falter at the first broad lick of Bucky’s tongue against your clit. “Fuck!”

“Go on, baby,” Steve muttered, watching Bucky as he nestled closer. “Fuck her with your tongue.”

The feeling was indescribable – the pull of Bucky’s mouth and the warmth and pressure of his tongue insistently drawing patterns just as pretty as his tattoos on your clit, only to stop and move his tongue down, paying attention to your weeping cunt. You couldn’t hear his groans and moans over the roaring in your ears, though you were grounded by the soft brush of Steve’s fingers down your neck and over your shoulder.

It was short lived.

As Bucky forced his tongue to do as Steve had ordered, Steve lowered his head to suckle at a breast, his hand coming to cup your other breast and flick the hardened nub until you whimpered.

The bed began to squeak and rock and you lifted your head to see Bucky’s hips thrusting desperately against the edge. “Baby, no, you come when she does,” Steve cut in, his tone snappish and commanding. You could have sworn you felt Bucky’s whine through your entire body with how he had sucked your clit into his mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve purred, turning to look at you. A harsh suck from Bucky forced a hiccuped moan from your lips and you whined, fisting your hands in Bucky’s hair. “He’s makin’ you feel good, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- Ah!”

“Oh, sweetheart, lookatchu,” Steve continued, ignorant of your heaving breaths and inability to hear nor compute a damn thing except for the fact Bucky was swirling and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

“Bucky! Oh, fuck- Fuck!” You cried, startling at the feeling of Bucky’s fingers burying themselves deep in your cunt. “Please!”

Your pleading only spurred Bucky on, and you watched through blurred vision as Steve grinned wickedly, his gaze focused on Bucky's head shaking side to side. “You’re fuckin’ her real good, baby,” Steve breathed, and his gaze snapped towards your pleading expression. “Oh, you’re close, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah!” You cried. “Steve, Steve please-”

“Bucky, baby,” Steve said, still looking at you and you did your best to stare back, to hold his gaze. “Be a good boy for me and make her come, she wants to be your good girl.”

Fire burst through every nerve and your back arched to the ceiling, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Bucky still did not stop. “That’s it, good girl, there’s a good girl- Fuck,” Steve breathed. Waves and waves of sensations crashed against you, pulling you under, with every brush of Bucky’s fingers and tongue and every suck of his lips. He followed you as you writhed on the bed, drawing out every last second of your climax.

Bucky finally pulled back from between your thighs for breath, his chest heaving while your slick covered his lips and chin. The impish grin that split his face made you twitch and whine breathlessly, though it didn’t deter him from launching up onto the bed to claim your lips in a heated kiss.

“Baby,” Steve rushed, pulling Bucky off you and ignoring his grunt of protest. “Lie back, baby, I want your dick in my mouth.”

The promise made Bucky move almost comically quick and he rested his back against the bed head, thighs spread. “Catch your breath, honey,” Bucky whispered as Steve moved to settle between Bucky’s thighs. “We’re not done with you.”

You watched in daze as Steve pulled Bucky’s boxers down, and you revelled in the groan of pleasure that escaped Bucky as Steve swallowed him to the hilt with no preamble. “Stevie, fuck,” Bucky gasped, fisting Steve’s blond hair and holding him in place. “‘M not gonna last long, baby, fuck.”

A rush of energy pulsed through you and you got to your knees, wobbling only slightly. Bucky watched you through hooded eyes, reaching a hand out and you took it, falling against his side and pulling him into a heated kiss – swallowing his moans and cries. You hissed against his lips as his hand wandered down your back to cup and grope at the globes of your ass – his hands rough but warm.

Bucky’s hips jerked up violently and he cried out, his stomach flexing and you watched in awe as Steve worked faster. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, don’t you dare stop- Fuck!”

“Bucky,” you simpered and his gaze snapped to you – his once bright eyes blackened and eclipsed, so fucking far gone, you mused silently. “Come for me, handsome, c’mon.”

The loud shout that echoed off the walls made you grin dazedly, triumphant at wrecking the man before you like he did you. You watched as Bucky twitched and moaned, writhing weakly against Steve’s incessant sucking, his cheeks still hollowed. “Stevie- please, I can’t,” Bucky gasped, sagging in relief when Steve finally pulled off, grinning that same wicked smile.

That same smile he turned on you. “My turn.”

“Wha-” You tried, though your attempt at being coherent was marred by the fact Bucky had manhandled you into his lap, locking you in place by trapping your arms by your sides and forcing your legs open and keeping them there with his feet. The heat billowing from Bucky burned against your skin, and you wriggled, whining from the feel of his still hard cock resting against your lower back.

“Shh, honey,” Bucky cooed, resting his chin against your shoulder. Despite the rush you found your breathing slowing at his soothing tone. “I’ve gotchu, and Stevie’s gonna fuck you so good you won’t remember your own fuckin’ name, how ‘bout that?”

“Fuck,” you croaked, shivering in his hold. You could feel your cunt clench around nothing and you began to pant, as desperate to get air as you were to finally be filled with Steve’s cock.

“She’s so pretty like this, Buck, fuckin’ hell,” Steve rambled, rooting through a bedside draw before pulling free a foil packet. “Touch her for me.”

“Oh-” You shuddered, your legs jerking against Bucky’s hold as his hand wandered down your stomach.

“Be good for me, honey, my sweet doll, huh?” Bucky breathed and you whimpered. The feel of his fingers trailing so close caused goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingers, right until they settled between your folds and circled your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve breathed, stopping his rush to just watch. “Speed it up, I think she can come once more– what d’you think, sweetheart?”

“I can’t-”

“You can,” Bucky replied. “Stevie wants to watch you come undone again, and like the good girl you are-” As he spoke, his fingers picked up their speed and you heaved for breath against the onslaught of sensation. “-You’re gonna put on a show for ‘im, aren’t you?”

“Ye-Yeah, ah! I am, I- oh,” you gasped, and with your arms trapped you could only scramble to hold Bucky’s hips, the pillows, the sheets – something, anything to ground yourself.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Steve called, though he sounded underwater – muffled and so far away. “Let go, let go for us.”

You screamed to the ceiling, shaking violently through your second climax that cleaved you like a whip, and Bucky was the only thing holding you together.

“Fuck, if she looks as pretty as she does without our cocks filling her, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled into your hair, soothing the aftershocks with gentle kisses against your temple. “Imagine how she’d look while you’re gonna fuck her.”

Steve groaned loudly in response. “Move, Buck, I need-”

You whined as Bucky slowly lowered you down his front so your hips were canted forward, and your shoulders rested against his middle, just above his stomach. “There you go, doll, easy,” he soothed, pulling your slumped head back against his chest. “You with us, honey?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice hoarse, but you grinned dopily up at them. “Don’ stop, more-”

They laughed heartily – the rumbling in Bucky’s chest soothing something deep in your mind. It was hard to form any string of thought, coherent or not.

“You’re just so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, and you whined, chasing his lips. “No, I wanna watch you.”

If Bucky hadn’t kept hold of you, you could have sworn you had started to ascend – the stretch of Steve’s cock burned, the pain exactly what you had wanted, and you moaned loudly. “That’s it, honey,” Bucky cooed, moving a hand to squeeze your breast. “Takin’ Stevie so well, fuck.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned, bottoming out in your cunt and stilling. The small twitches against your walls made you whimper, though you grinned wickedly up at him, watching his bowed head until he met your gaze. “Sweetheart, what are- Shit!”

You chuckled weakly and you felt Bucky move behind you, his lips nipping at the side of your neck. “You tryin’ to make him come, huh, kitten?”

The name pulled a moan from your lips and Steve gasped, your cunt squeezing him like a vice – the once steady rhythm you had pulsing around him thrown out.

“Do that again, Buck,” Steve breathed. “She’s fuckin’ squeezing me.”

“Aw,” Bucky cooed, and you groaned when Steve started to move – far too fucking slowly. “You want Stevie to fuck you senseless? You want Steve to squirm?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied quietly.

“She’s too fucked out to form words, baby,” Bucky said to Steve, his tone biting and just the perfect amount of mockery. “I want you to fuck her– fuck her just how you want, go on.”

“Not funny, Buck,” Steve gritted out before he thrusted hard enough to jolt you up Bucky’s chest. It was like you weren’t there – a toy for them to use to rile one another up, and you fucking loved it.

“Oh, it is,” Bucky continued, shifting slightly so he could attack the other side of your neck. Your whimpers and moans were completely ignored while Steve thrusted shallowly. “You better fuck our girl senseless, baby, or I’ll have to do it myself. You don’t want that do you? You want her pussy all to yourself, you don’t want to share, do you?”

The words were a catalyst to something – the cogs of Steve’s mind finally clicking into place to reveal the wolfish greed he had harboured from the beginning. His thrusts turned brutal and every rock of his hips punched a moan from your lungs, the quickfire and brutality of each thrust driving you up Bucky’s chest.

“Please-” You gasped, scrabbling to grab hold of something and Bucky’s hip was the only thing you could find purchase on. “Please, oh, fucking- Stevie!”

“That’s it, kitten, scream for him,” Bucky purred before grabbing the back of Steve’s neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss, throwing off his rhythm. You whined loudly and Bucky pulled back, chuckling darkly. “Fuck her, Stevie, make her come.”

A low growl shook Steve’s chest, and it rattled your last sense of control. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rambled, attaching his lips to your neck, the opposite side of where Bucky was marking you with his teeth and tongue. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You clamped down tighter on his cock and your moans grew in pitch, but Steve didn’t falter. “She’s close, Stevie, good boy,” Bucky purred. Steve only moaned, shifting his knees so he could fuck you harder. You could feel Bucky’s hand moving down your stomach and a loud static filled your ears. “You wanna come for him, don’t you, kitten? You wanna be a good girl for us?”

Words failed you. Your mouth opened and closed uselessly as you felt Bucky reach your hip, though he didn’t stop. A full body shudder tore through your limbs and you keened, curling inwards as Bucky’s fingers found your much too sensitive clit with his fingers – all through Bucky’s deft touches, Steve didn’t stop his thrusts, if anything, they got harder, faster, as he chased his release.

“Come for us, honey,” Bucky whispered, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. Steve nodded desperately and whined as the start of your climax trapped him, your cunt sucking him in and not allowing him to leave. “Come for us, kitten- Good girl! Oh, lookatchu! Fuck, that’s a girl, good girl-”

You were drowning in pleasure, you couldn’t breathe – couldn’t feel anything but the deadly throes and sensations of Steve’s cock grinding against that spot and the feeling of Bucky’s breath, hot on your neck.

Slowly, you came to laying on your side, pressed between two bodies.

“There she is– hey, sweetheart,” Steve whispered in your ear. Somehow, he was holding you to his chest and Bucky was laying facing you, his eyes opening quickly at Steve’s words.

“Stevie fucked you a bit too good, honey,” Bucky chuckled, cupping your jaw and sidling closer so he could kiss your forehead. “Are you alright?” As he spoke, Steve rubbed one hand up and down your side as you shivered, squeezing you close with the other.

“‘M fine,” you said. “Wha’ happened?”

“You blacked out, doll,” Bucky explained. “It was only for a little while.”

“Awesome,” you whispered, and Steve and Bucky laughed. “Are you guys okay?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Steve said – you could hear the grin in his words, and Bucky nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “We can talk serious shit later, alright? We wanna hold you a lil’ longer.”

“I would love that,” you hummed happily and snuggled into Steve’s arms, smiling as Bucky moved even closer.

One thing was for sure, today for sure cemented the fact that you had made the right decision – now all you had to do was buckle in for the ride.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

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royalsweetteaa · 9 months

Text

Full to the brim

Pairing: Daddy!Steve Rogers x Short! Tiny! Reader

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - This story contains the following: explicit smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, praise kink, fluff, first time (together), fluff, pet names from Steve (doll, baby doll, sweetheart, love), reader has self-esteem issues, but Steve comes to the rescue ;)

Narrator POV

Tonight, you and Steve try to have penetrative sex together for the first time after you have been begging him relentlessly to give it a shot. In the duration of your relationship, Steve has been very hesitant about having sex with you due to the fact that he is massive compared to you, who on top of that was smaller than average women. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so you have done the alternatives.

You have tried oral sex and you two were already so pleased sticking to that, even though you still struggled to give Steve a blowjob, but Steve enjoyed and got off to your attempts of swallowing his huge dick.

Now, you were on the edge of the bed with Steve being in a sitting position and having you on his lap. You were in a reversed position - meaning you weren’t facing each other but he was behind you as his hands held your hips. It had taken several positions and attempts, but now you were finally past taking his tip and having him almost fully inside.

“F-fuck, daddy!” You cried out. Your body was trembling from how much Steve had stretched you. You could practically feel him in your stomach.

“Language,” Steve reminded firmly. “Can’t have you saying bad words while daddy is taking you, otherwise I’ll have to wash your mouth with soap.”

“I-I’m sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to! You just feel so full inside of me. You’re so big!” You whined.

Steve chuckled lowly. “I know, baby doll. Your cunt makes a tight fit but that’s okay. It’s not your fault that you’re such a tiny baby.” Steve cooed. He looked down where the two of you connected. His cock was stretching your pulsing core to the point where it looked like you were about to split in two, but Steve had full control. He rubbed your throbbing clit, making you jolt and shake uncontrollably against his chest. He snakes his other hand to your belly, and he swore he could feel himself through your tummy. Fuck.

“You okay, love? If it’s too much, I can always pull out..” “NO! No, please daddy. I’m adjusting, it’s not hurting so much anymore..” you speak assuringly.

When more wetness starts gathering around his shaft, he holds you by the waist and pulls you slowly up and down onto his cock, almost as if you were a fleshlight. Your hand hooks onto his arms that were holding your waist, and you let out stuttering moans. “Ah!- Mmm, daddy! Oh daddy!” You cried out when his cock makes its way to the deepest parts of your body.

“You sure you’re alright? Should I stop?” Steve asks, his ruts becoming more hesitant. You quickly protest once again, “No, no daddy! It only hurts a little bit but it’s starting to feel so good! Please don’t stop!“

“Mmm, you’re a big girl, you know that? Taking daddy’s big fat cock into your tiny hole…so brave, you’re so brave for daddy.” He praises. It makes you all the more wetter when he praises you, and he knew that. His movements became smooth as it was now easier to have him gliding in and out with his cock. Your juices combined with his large amount of precum made the perfect lube.

“Oh, doll, you feel wonderful. You’re so perfect for me sweetheart. So perfect.” He said with a raspy voice. You shook your head. “No, I’m not, daddy…,” you let out a few breaths of air before continuing. “You had to work and wait so long until I was able to take half of you in…I’m so sorry daddy, I wish it was easier for you….ah-!” You yelped when Steve pinched your nipples and rutted his hips upwards against yours.

“Did I fuck you dumb or are you just being a dumb little doll questioning daddy’s judgement?” He asked with a stricter voice. “When I say you’re perfect, you’re perfect.” He started to suck bruising marks onto the skin of your neck. He had always said it was his way of claiming you. “Do you know how fucking hard I get from the mere thought of stretching your little pussy? Do you know how much I wanted to bust my load when I only got the tip in? Do you know how much I want to stuff you full of cum till your little tummy bloats? You make me loose the little self control I have when I’m around you, doll, so you better not be talking badly about yourself.”

You nodded frantically, feeling your climax closing in. “Y-Yes daddy, - ngh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to question you, - ah!”

“Atta girl, - apology accepted. Daddy’s getting close but I’m not gonna cum unless you do first, okay love?” After you hummed in response, Steve started to quicken his pace and you couldn’t help but reach your hand across his neck to pull him closer to you.

“C’mere love, I wanna kiss you.” He demanded softly. You turned to look at him before he pulled you to a long, sensual and loving kiss. His hand landed on your clit again, making it all the more difficult to last any longer. You broke the kiss as it was harder to contain your heavy breaths and moans. “O-Oh~ Daddy I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

“Go ahead doll, cum all over my cock like a good girl.” After a few seconds, you did so, cumming hard and twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was all too much, but it felt so good.

“Daddy, please cum inside me…I want to be full of your cum. Please, daddy give it to me!”

He grunted as his thrusts became frantic. “I’m gonna give it to you good, baby doll. Wanna stuff you full of me till you get pregnant and round with my baby…would you like that, love? Wanna start a family with me?” He asked, his voice dripping like honey.

You quickly nodded. “Mhm! Yes daddy, I wanna m-make you a real daddy, Steve! I l-love you so much!” You said and turned to him. Steve smiled with soft eyes. He has always wanted to have a family with you, and hearing you wanting to give him one now that you were able to take him made his heart flutter with delight.

“Alright, sweetheart. daddy’s gonna pump his sperm inside of you, - gonna make you a mommy.” He held tightly around your waist and chased his own high. His teeth gritted and he closed his eyes, taking in the delicious sensation of your wet channel. His mouth was hanging open, making it impossible to hold back the moans he was holding earlier. This was nothing like he has ever felt before, and even though he wanted to last longer, he knew he was bound to fail.

“Ah, shit! M’gonna-!” He threw his head up as he let loads shoot up inside you. He didn’t let you go, wanting to savor this moment as his cock was pulsing and emptying his balls full of seed. You let out a whimper of feeling his hot cum coating your walls. It felt like it was going on forever before he let out a heavy sigh and looked at you.

“How do you feel, love?” He asked. You tried to regulate your breathing before responding. “Amazing, daddy..I loved it so much.” you said. His nose nuzzled yours, enjoying the peace the sex gave you. Both of your muscles loosened up after an intense session, and now you were both tangled in each other’s bodies in bed, his cock still inside you.

“I love you, doll. You did wonderful keeping up with me. You’re a flawless woman, Y/N. Always remember that, okay?” He whispered.

You smiled and nodded, almost shedding a tear from his kind words. You cupped his face and gave him a long, heartwarming kiss. “Love you too, Steve. Thank you for being so good to me.”

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #daddy steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #chris evans fanfiction

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krirebr · 2 months

Text

Welcome to Your Life

Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.75k

Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @saradika

We're All Monsters

Masterlist

A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵

This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.

Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.

As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!

You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.

You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.

Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.

“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.

“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point.

“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”

“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense.

He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried.

One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.

The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated.

He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”

Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”

He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.

“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.

The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”

She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”

He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”

You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.

“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.

Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.

The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her.

You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be.

These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?

There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.

Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.

.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad.

More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.

You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him.

Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.

“Shit,” he breathed.

“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”

“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”

You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”

“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.

Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”

“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.

He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.”

You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point.

Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”

You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???

But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room.

It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”

“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.

“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.

Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.

It was the most luxurious shower of your life.

When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you.

Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you–

“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.”

You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”

He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”

You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over.

“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”

The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?”

You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”

And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.

“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”

He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.

“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.

“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time.

He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger.

His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back.

“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking.

Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip.

You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @femefetalelevelingup

#everybody wants to rule the world #we're all monsters #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers #captain america #vampire au #dark!fic #dark fic #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #kris wrote something

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imtryingbuck · 6 months

Text

Happy Ending?

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Future Bucky x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader dates Steve but he’s not a good boyfriend

Word count: 967

Warnings: Angst. Steve not being a good boyfriend, low self-esteem, no smut but smut? Idk I’m sorry. Self-body hating – plus size reader.

A/n: pt 2&3 will be on Bucky’s masterlist

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

You see the love of your life kissing Natasha. Then in the car she jokes about it being his first kiss in 70 years, he doesn’t correct her of course he doesn’t otherwise he’ll have to tell her he’s dating you. For the past 6 months. He tells you that it meant nothing and that they had to do it so they didn’t blow their cover. He takes you to bed has you on all fours and as he’s nearing his release, he says Natasha. You cry and he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in the backseat of the car next to Bucky Barnes, having to see the love of your life kissing the next best thing he’s going to get to Peggy Carter, her niece Sharon. You can’t say anything though as nobody knows you two are dating, still. He tells you it’s for your own safety but you know it’s not for that reason. You know he’s embarrassed of you, you’re not skinny. You’re fat. Overweight. Plus-size. However you want to put it you’re not skinny. You’re not perfect like Natasha or Sharon or any other woman he could have. He tells you he loves you in a whisper. He kisses you behind closed doors. Hell he doesn’t even touch you in-front of anyone. Yet you stay with him because you love him.

Later that night he tells you he loves you and only you. You believe it. Your face gets pushed into the pillow, arse in the air and like last time as he’s about to get his release it’s not your name nor Natasha’s that slips past his pretty lips it’s Sharon’s. You cry, again.

You stay silent about the pain he keeps causing you because you are so afraid of being alone, so desperate to be loved by him or anybody for that matter. All you want is real love but you’re too scared to leave. The worst part is even Steve knows this. He knows how much you love him, and he knows himself that he could never love you, not really love you.

A few months goes by, and everything has calmed down so you decide to take him to meet your parents for the first time. He’s so nervous it’s actually cute. He meets your parents, brother and sister. Dinner goes by smoothly, Steve talks to your dad and brother about everything and anything whilst you’re in the kitchen talking to your mum and sister about how much of an amazing guy he is, how much you love him and how happy you are. Your mum tells you you’re absolutely glowing. The night comes to an end you’re sitting in the passenger seat eyes going from him to the stars in the sky, your happy for the first time in months. You both get home, and he tells you how incredible you are, says he wants to make love to you so you let him. Before you know it he flips you onto your hands and knees face being shoved into the fluffy pillows, your brains working overtime wondering which name is going to make its way out of his mouth. Your whole body is hurting because of how rough he’s being with you, your head hurts and your poor stupid heart is breaking all over again as he empties all his worth inside of you while the name he’s keep chanting like a prayer is that of your sister.

How you manage to do it is lost on you, but you push him off of you with what little strength you have left and make a beeline straight to the bathroom locking the door as quickly as you can, you stumble to the toilet in time to empty the contents out of your stomach. In the mist of being sick and crying you hear Steve pounding on the door pleading with you to let him in asking if he’s hurt you. Asking ‘what did I do wrong’ which is ironic as that’s the same question you’ve repeatedly asked yourself. You hug the toilet trying to get some kind of warmth from it.

But it doesn’t happen.

You fall asleep naked, face covered in tears on the cold bathroom floor. Steve falls asleep on the bedroom floor against the door.

The next morning you wake up sore with Steve knocking on the door telling you he has to leave on an important mission that he loves you and when he gets back you both can talk about why you ran off hiding in the bathroom. You remain stuck to the floor long after he’s left.

You know you can’t keep doing this, going through the pain, blaming yourself for not being good enough for him. ‘You need to stop being scared of being alone’ you told yourself and finally after nearly a year of crying yourself to sleep every night you pick yourself off the tiled flooring and with timid steps you head into the bedroom. As you pack all your stuff into suitcases and bags you thought you’d be crying whilst doing this but no tears have made an appearance, you’re completely numb and done with everything. Walking around the apartment taking your things as you go you head to the front door and like a naive silly girl you’re arguing with yourself to put your stuff back and just wait for the love of your life to come home. ‘He loves you idiot’ even though you know it not to be true and with that and your broken heart you take a look around visibly seeing the good times that took place within those four walls, you walk out of the door and into the cold December morning.

You thought he was going to be your happy ending.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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imyourbratzdoll · 3 months

Note

I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈

hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.

summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.

warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one.

You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you.

Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?”

Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!”

You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear.

“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!”

“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.

You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”

“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.”

You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile.

Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.”

With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself.

While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to.

“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin.

You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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buckys-wintersoldier · 1 month

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Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”

Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.

Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.

“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.

Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.

Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.

“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.

“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.

His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.

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navybrat817 · 5 days

Note

Steve + 9. "Don't even think about getting out of the car."

Oh, Eva. 🫠

Direct Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve doesn't like that you ignored his direct order.

Word Count: Almost 900

Warnings: Arguing, slight angst, stubbornness, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another overprotective prompt ficlet. Thanks, Eva! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The night air was cool and refreshing as you rolled the window down, but it went back up before you could appreciate the breeze against your skin. You shot Steve a glare who didn't acknowledge you as he drove. You didn't like uncomfortable silence, but you didn't attempt to fill the time with small talk. Not since he decided to rip you a new one in front of the team an hour ago.

You just wanted to go home.

“You have nothing to say?” Steve asked, his voice low. “Must be killing you to go this long without talking.”

You fought the urge to kick the dashboard since the car didn't do anything to you and smacking him could cause an accident. “And it must be killing you that I didn't fall in line today like a perfect little soldier,” you said with a sardonic smile. “Or would you prefer I act like a doll?”

“You ignored my direct order,” he growled as he gripped the steering wheel. For a moment you thought he’d bend or rip it away. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You sneered before facing forward. “Jesus Christ, give it a rest. You berated me enough on the quinjet and I don't need to hear it again.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough for you to see the anger brewing. “Damn right I berated you because you never listen to me.”

The tension thickened. You didn't typically argue with Steve. You went against him once and now he was saying you never listened to him? Where the hell did he get off?

“Don’t you dare lecture me about not listening to you when you’re the one who never listens to anyone,” you argued, feeling a hint of satisfaction when he clenched his jaw. “And I made the right call. I stand by that.”

The mission was a success because of your decision.

“You don't make the calls. That isn't your job,” he snapped, the tires squealing as he made a rough turn. “You could've been hurt or worse. Don't you get that?! You can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“But I wasn't hurt! And me being stubborn? Pot meet fucking kettle, Rogers!”

“Captain,” he said through his perfect teeth.

“Captain,” you scoffed, your blood boiling. “You are not my Captain right now. You're just some guy who wormed his way into driving me home after running his mouth.”

You shrieked when he slammed on the brakes, bracing yourself on the dash when he ran a hand through his blonde hair and bitterly chuckled. It was a foreign sound coming from him. One that made you shut your mouth. “Some guy? Now I’m just some guy?”

Concern flickered across your face. Yeah, you were mad, but you didn't have to push. “Steve. I mean, Captain, I-”

“I’m not just some guy and I’m not just your Captain,” he cut you off, stopping you when you reached for the door handle. “Don't even think about getting out of the car. We’re not done yet.”

“Why should I stay? So you can snap at me some more?” You mumbled. “Would you treat Bucky or Sam or anyone else like this?”

It wasn't fair to try and make him feel bad. He was your leader for a reason and he gave you an order. You didn't follow it. He had every right to be pissed off. By all means he had the right to bench you, too.

But why was he taking it personally?

All the anger fell from Steve’s face as he leaned across the seat more. “I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softened, too. “Why are you sorry?”

“For snapping the way I did,” he said with a shake of his head. “You just scared me today. I get scared every time you go into the field, but that was the first time you…”

“Didn’t listen,” you finished for him, your heart pounding when you realized just how close he was. If he leaned in any closer, his lips would be against yours.

“And you are right. I have a hard time listening to others myself,” he said, smiling when you snorted. “But I don't give you orders for you to act like a perfect soldier or doll. Just like I don't give Bucky or Sam or anyone else orders just to have things done my way. I do it to keep you as safe as possible. It would break my heart if something happened to you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes went wide. “Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” You asked, your stomach doing a funny flip.

He chuckled, the sound much warmer than before. “So, you do listen.”

“Most of the time,” you teased, staring into his eyes. You could see how much he cared. No wonder he took this mission to heart.

“Arguing aside, you did well,” he praised, which sent heat to your cheeks.

“Thank you, Captain. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’ll forgive you for ignoring my orders if you let me walk you to your door.”

“And I'll forgive you for snapping at me in front of the team if you come inside and have a drink,” you countered.

You didn't expect him to move his mouth to your ear. “I’ll only come inside if you say ‘please’,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. “And that's a direct order.”

Yes, sir. ❤️‍🔥 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans x reader #nomad!steve rogers #captain america

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jen-with-a-pen · 2 months

Text

Dancing in the Kitchen

summary: After the worst night imaginable, your best friend helps you when you need him most. What you don't realize is just how much you've always needed him. or: Tony Dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together.

parings: protective!best friend!Steve Rogers x best friend!f!Reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: fluff, angst, self-doubt and insecurity, verbally abusive relationship elements, insults + language/name calling, reader cusses and so does Steve bc he can, no smut!, wearing Steve's clothes (very little to no description about reader's body so do with that what you will), intense feelings, confessions, crying, anxiety, best friends to lovers, intimate touch, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, protectiveness, not Tony Stark friendly, cap quartet mention

a/n: these characters are out of college! It's set in their early-mid 20s following graduating and I thought it'd be a little more relatable (also since I'm not in college anymore I wanted this specific fic concept to be more relatable. self-indulgence and stuff). the cap quartet rent a house together. there might be more shenanigans in the future involving them. maybe. who knows? enjoy <3

If I've missed any tags, please let me know!

gif by @annislittleshopofhorrors | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Everything was cold.

Everything was ruined.

Everything was a fucking nightmare.

Dark clouds shrouded the night sky, hiding helpful moonlight. Rain pelted at you from above, mixing with fresh tears, drenching you to the bone as cold water collected on your skin and soaked through your dress. Your hands morphed into balled fists at your sides as you shook with rage, heartbreak, and the innate need to punch something.

You couldn’t wrap your pounding head around the events of the night; everything blurred together after ten o’clock. It was like a cruel joke, one where you waited an eternity for the punchline, begging for it not to be real no matter how hard you screwed your eyes shut and prayed.

You didn’t want to believe it, yet there you were.

It sure as hell wasn’t the first time you found yourself standing at the backdoor of Steve Roger’s house on the cusp of a breakdown– and a breakup– warring with your own body to simply knock on the fucking door. Hell, Steve was already expecting you. He knew something was wrong the second you called; there wasn’t a warning text, just you, asking in a choked-up whisper if he was home. His response spilled out in a rushed ‘yes’ before you could explain further. A ‘no questions asked’ request, something not uncommon in your friendship. Steve, since day one, was one of your main sources of comfort within a thousand mile radius.

Now, he was your only source of comfort within a thousand mile radius.

Remnants of the phone call from Tony only minutes earlier echoed in your eardrums like a bad case of tinnitus. Annoying, repetitive. His hoarse, drunken slurry of vicious words clawed at the inside of your skull. Another fight. Another screaming match. Another forgotten birthday– this time, it included meeting your family. You’d planned it for months prior, making sure Tony knew not to forget it.

Your insides were twisting in knots as you waited at the restaurant awkwardly with your parents, brother, and an empty seat next to you. After an hour, eight failed calls and fifteen texts later, Tony finally picked up. Delight revived the few butterflies left in your stomach, only to be crushed, turning them into weighted dread as loud club music obliterated your ear drum as he shouted at you.

“You bitch!” he spat. “Why the ever-loving f-fuck are y’blowin’ up my phone for?!”

You didn’t have time to process what he was saying before he’d already reloaded and shot you with more.

“What the hell is sooooo important? Huh? Y-you stupid bitch! You fuckin’ knew I’m busy t’night!”

You tore the phone away. Even at arm’s length, you, and the rest of your family, could hear every single thing he spewed at you. A couple from the table next to yours stopped mid-bite to turn and throw rude looks at you and your family.

“Tony, please, I–”

“‘Tony please’– just shut up!” he mocked. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t fuckin’ care what you gotta– what you have t’say! I can’t f–fuckin’ stand you anymore!”

Hurt and hunger morphed into churning waves of anxiety and embarrassment. Your throat was closing. Tears began stinging your eyes. You looked between your parents in shame, meeting their stunned looks filled with pity and disappointment. Your brother refused to look anywhere but the spot on his plate where he played with his food, sadness and second-hand embarrassment plaguing his face.

Yelling, jeering, and chanting echoed out of your phone. Tony didn’t stop.

“Y’know what? I’m not doin’ this anymore,” he slurred, gulping some unknown liquid down, swallowing, gagging. More cheering. “We– we’re fuckin’ done. You’re out. I’m done.”

The other line fumbled. You winced as you heard Tony wet his lips, preparing the final blow. His breathing became heavy, ragged, hard enough you could smell the liquor through the phone.

“Fuckin’ cunt.”

Click.

You loathed yourself for tolerating him; the endless cycle of poisoning you, providing the antidote, and taking it away when it seemed to get better. The whiplash from his unpredictable moods and personal attacks on you hurt as bad as it felt when he’d come around with endless apologies– accompanied by flowers, cuddles, and kisses– to heal each wound he was responsible for.

This time, though, the stab was fatal. This time, you bled out; it’d been akin to getting gutted and hung helplessly in front of your fucking family.

A sob snuck its way up your throat. You choked it down, willing your fist to reach up and knock on the door. You didn’t understand why this was next to impossible. Steve was your best friend. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. It wasn’t like he’d chastise you or yell at you or tell you to fuck off. Yet, there was a fear, deep down, feeding on the anxiety and self-doubt in the pit of your stomach, telling you the opposite; it whispered to you, telling you to run back to your car, scream into the steering wheel, and speed off to disappear from everything and everyone for just a little longer. It’d only be until you got your head on straight, until you figured out what to do with the apartment and your classes and your stuff and–

Knock. knock. knock.

In the blur of a million thoughts racing through your mind, you automatically reached up and weakly knocked, body tensing every muscle as you waited.

The door swung open, revealing one extremely concerned Steve Rogers.

Steve panted, a result from sprinting down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom in an attempt to open the back door by your first knock. Acutely aware of his jaw hanging from its hinges, Steve’s soft baby blues bore into you, scanning you up and down, stunned at you and your dress and how desperate you looked.

Time stopped the second you saw him; it was difficult to describe, but everything magnetizing between the two of you was different. You felt different– different in the way he was familiar and somehow new at the same time. Steve felt different– different in the way you were single for the first time in two years and he was single since… forever ago.

This time was unlike the million other times.

You both stared. Your lips quivered, his parted in disbelief. Both your minds instantly went blank, unable to think of anything to say, to do. So, the sky thought for you. It opened its floodgates, releasing a torrential downpour as you stood inches from warmth, from comfort.

“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him.

It was then, everything came crashing down.

You crumbled to the ground in a heap, knees buckling while your hand and arms braced for impact with the ground. Steve quickly abandoned his tight grip on the doorframe, catching you, helping you inside. Lungs gasped for air as heavy sobs poured from your chest and tears flowed steadily down your face. You pawed at Steve’s arm hooked around you as he stumbled back into the house, kicking the door closed and collapsing onto the kitchen floor with you in tow. He immediately pulled you closer and hugged you tightly against his chest. You heaved, crying out from the painful pit in your heart, digging your fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. You buried your face into his t-shirt and bawled.

All of it– the rage, the hurt, the mess of balled-up emotions from the last two fucking years– came unraveled. Hands twisted into Steve’s t-shirt, balling the fabric and pulling it taut enough to rip.

Steve didn’t shout. He didn’t complain. He didn’t utter a single word as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets, rocking you gently, squeezing you harder as his chest rose and fell rhythmically against your pounding skull, silently coaxing you to follow his breathing. Blubbering in his lap, stringing words together became futile as thoughts became unrecognizable. Another wave of panic and anxiety crashed over you. Steve’s mumbled shushes softened you; the deep timbre and honeyed bass of his voice and vibrations in his chest grounded you, welcoming you to safety. To home.

“Shh… don’t worry, I got you. I have you. You’re okay,” he muttered, running a hand gently up and down your back.

“I–he–bu–” you fumbled, lip quivering as another sob overtook you. Rage clawed at the walls in the chasm of your chest. You screamed. Guttural, pained. Again. And again.

“Shh… it’s okay, let it out. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” he soothed, rocking you, adding in a lowered octave, “I’m here.”

“T–Tony,” you hiccuped, fists twisting more of Steve’s t-shirt. “He–he–”

“What, angel? What about Tony?”

“He–he c–called me n–names a–and,” you shook your head violently, “he b-broke up with me. For real, this time.”

Steve cupped your cheek, softly wiping away fresh tears with calloused fingertips. While you continued to cry in his arms, his focus turned to the back door you tumbled through. Inside, he seethed; his rage nearly boiled over at the thought of anyone doing this to you, let alone Tony fucking Stark. Out of all the things you’d told him over the last couple years– all the threats, the cruel jokes and abandonment and insults– tonight was the ultimate cherry on top. It validated every time Tony’s actions made Steve think vengeful thoughts on what he’d do if he ever got five minutes with the douchebag. Just five minutes. Alone.

He shook the thought away, looking back down to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him upset, let alone remotely think you were the cause of it. He’d promised himself that the first time you met.

Tony was going to fucking pay for what he’d done to you every single second for the last two years. And on your birthday, for chrissake.

“What–” Steve swallowed the excess rage in his chest. “What kind of names, sweetie?”

You softened, sniffling, refusing to look at him. “He called me a b–bitch, a–and,” you bit your tongue, “a… cunt.”

The moment the word left your lips, Steve fought every last nerve in him not to put you to bed, get in his car, and go teach Tony a lesson on some fucking manners. Hell, even the idea of taking Bucky and Sam crossed his mind.

He pushed the thought away, focusing back on you. You needed him. You came to him for help. No one else but him.

Steve slid his hand off your back and placed it under your chin, thumb and forefinger gently coaxing you to look at him. Big blue eyes swam with concern and worry. In the dark of the kitchen, they seemed brighter than ever– a beacon guiding you back from the hurricane in your head.

In an instant, everything in your head went quiet. No more muffled echoes from the phone call. No more sobs readying to burst out your chest. No more caring about how swollen and puffy your eyes were, or the drying combination of mascara and tear stains running down your cheeks and neck. Your sopping wet dress that drenched the floor, and Steve, was pushed to the back of your brain, the cold no longer leaking into your bones as he brought you back down from the ledge.

All you saw was Steve. All you smelled, all you could feel, was Steve.

Steve swallowed. His jaw slacked, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, slowly drinking you in for as long as he was able.

And honestly? You couldn’t care enough to stop him. It’d been so long since someone looked at you the way Steve did.

Had he always looked at you like that?

“Listen to me. You are none of those things. Not even close,” he whispered, hoping you believed him.

You nodded lightly. “I–I know, but it hurts,” your voice cracked again, eyes drifting away from him.

“Hey, look at me,” he tugged at your chin, “you will never be anything like he says you are. Ever. Okay?”

You stared at him. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you placed a hand on his, taking it from your chin to your chest. Warmth bloomed as it rested against your damp skin.

“‘Kay.” Barely a whisper. Enough for only him to hear.

He paused, gaze holding steady on you, lips twitching at the corners.

“Let’s get you up ‘n out of that thing, yeah?” He nodded to your dress. “You gotta be freezing.”

Gently, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the kitchen floor and pulling you up on your feet. Your legs felt like a wobbly blend of jelly and nerves that forced you to lean onto Steve for support. He anticipated this, catching you and gripping your shoulders. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you clung to him as he guided you through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. You passed by Sam and Bucky’s rooms, both empty for the night, just like Natasha’s downstairs.

As Steve rifled through his drawers and closet, your focus wandered to his messy desk: the lamp cast a soft, warm glow across the room, sitting next to history books and sketchbooks stacked high on top of one another; pencils and dirtied paint brushes littered the surface, products of his latest art assignment. His bed was half-made, dark green covers on one side neatly tucked in while the opposite was thrown aside, exposing gray pinstripe sheets. The walls were covered with scattered art– some his, others his favorite artists’– posters and pictures of family, friends, and some local bands. You bit back a smile. Memories of the shows you both went to over the last few years played like a highlight reel in your mind. You never regretted it; you never passed up a single invite, even after the time Tony locked you out for a whole weekend.

“Here, these are clean,” he handed you a neatly folded pile of his clothes before adding, “I promise.”

A fuller smile broke across your face. The first of the entire night.

“Uh huh, sure, I believe you,” you joked sarcastically. He feigned hurt, scoffing at your false accusation.

“I did the sniff test, if that makes you feel any better.”

You giggled, taking the clothes from him and turning to head to the bathroom.

“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” he called after you. “You, um, you want something to drink?”

You paused, turning to look at him from the bathroom doorway halfway down the hall. From where he stood, the saturated pink creeping up his neck and reaching his face was more visible than the light on his desk. You couldn’t help but hold in a snicker and flash him a relieved smile, thankful.

“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”

Steve smiled, saluting you. “Coming right up.”

You headed into the bathroom, tossing the clothes onto the counter, slumping against the door the second you shut and locked it. Finally relaxing, you realized how much tension was pent up in your tired shoulders– which, in turn, prompted the realization you were holding your breath the entire time in Steve’s room.

Brushing the self-induced lightheadedness, you slipped the ruined dress off your body and hung it up on the shower rod. You hated the color, the texture, but wore it anyway. For Tony. On your birthday.

You cursed yourself, pulling your bra off next– a pushup that held your rib cage hostage the entire night. Just how Tony likes it.

Or, liked it.

You silently prayed Steve included some Bailey’s in your coffee.

Pulling on Steve’s sweatshirt, the scent of him enveloped you instantly. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the neck of it, filling your lungs with the familiarity of Steve. He was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning and freshly brewed coffee. He was a nice night in watching your favorite movies and playing cards.

Your head was swimming, swirling, caught up in the entirety of your best friend. He was yours just as much as you were his. Through Tony, through other guys you’d subjected yourself to the last few years, none of them compared to Steve.

You tugged the sweatpants on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror and realizing the runny makeup staining your face. You snorted at how fucking ridiculous you looked, remembering the caked-on layers you’d put on for the evening. Again, just for Tony. The snort turned into a giggle, utterly grateful for Steve not making fun of how you looked and for ignoring the mascara stains on his poor t-shirt from earlier.

But, again, it was Steve. He’d never make fun of you. Ever.

Butterflies– the ones you’d thought were long gone months prior– stuttered suddenly, alive and fluttering in your stomach.

You instantly recognized the feeling: it was the same you had the day you met Steve.

The same feeling you’d get on roller coasters, or reading an exceptionally good romance novel. Giddiness, dizziness. It was as if you were spinning while the room stood still. Your head felt light, high on helium. Your skin burned. Meeting your own gaze in the mirror, you scanned yourself, the question ‘is this happening right now?’ running on a loop at the forefront of your mind.

Bzzt.

You jumped at the buzz of a text. With the trance broken, you took into account your shaking hands and the bumping tempo of your heart. Turning on the sink, you made sure the water was as cold as possible before cupping some in your hands and splashing your face. Refreshing. Needed. You rubbed the rest of the runny wakeup off your skin, stuffing your face into the fluffy hand towel and silently promising to get the boys a new one. Picking up your phone, teeth chewed on cheek to hold in your smile at the sight of Steve’s name on the screen.

⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told your reflection. “He’s only your best friend.”

The butterflies continued to multiply, bumping against one another, fluttering and escaping out into your chest and your limbs.

“Fuck.”

You opened the door.

⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I was beginning to think you climbed out the window up there,” Steve quipped upon seeing you round the corner into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the stupid grin spreading across his face when he saw you in his clothes. You looked more relaxed, more comfortable.

More like you.

You noticed he changed, too, donning a heather-gray t-shirt that clung to his torso in all the right ways– ways you hadn’t noticed before.

You mentally scolded yourself.

“A–Almost. But I’d never pass up a cup of world-famous Rogers Roast.”

“Wow, world-famous? I would’ve preferred universally-renowned, but I’ll take it.” He held a mug out to you, one faded with a ‘I ❤ New York’ logo– the one you’d gotten for him during your senior-year college internship. “Made it just how you like it.”

He paused as you took a sip. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you, biting his lip in anticipation as you drank. The coffee tasted like liquid gold, warm and comforting and all-around delicious. You didn’t care if you burnt your tongue. This was what you needed.

He was what you needed.

Was he?

You looked back up at Steve. His cheeks flushed as he pressed his lips together, entranced with the mug in your hands, eyes ever-so-slightly flitting from it to your lips and back again.

“Thank you, Stevie.”

“You’re welcome, angel.”

You pinched yourself, then took another sip.

Silence fell, comfortable and calm, as you both nursed your drinks, checking your phones and letting time pass. You didn’t care to check the clock.

Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down.

“So, um,” he began. “What else did you have planned for your birthday?”

His voice was low, tender, careful with the question so as not to upset you. He was curious, however, and determined to see exactly how much Tony fucked up your night.

And your life.

“Oh,” you swallowed, chewing your lip in an attempt to remember what you’d originally planned.

“He was, ah, gonna take me dancing. After dinner, after he,” you took an unsteady breath, “after he met my family. It was the one thing he told me he'd let me do after dinner.” You shook your head, adding under your breath, “besides him.”

Tension seeped into the space between you both. You didn’t want to meet Steve’s stare; it was the one you’d always see whenever you told him about Tony, one filled with anger so palpable it made his arms flex subconsciously, one he thought he hid well enough so you never saw, but you always did. Without looking up, you already knew his jaw was clenched and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes bored a hole into the wall behind you. Butterflies started to somersault, crashing into the waves of worry and anxiety.

“Why?”

You looked up. Blue eyes. Stormy, swirling, stubborn.

“What?”

“Why did you stay with him?” Steve asked steadily, voice barely above a whisper. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

You paused. “Because he wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I could’ve helped you. We could’ve helped you,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the house.

Your teeth tore into your bottom lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I–” Steve sighed and carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, frustrated, trying to keep his promise while also appealing to you and balancing the fragile tightrope you two stood on. “I care about you, angel. I care about you so fuckin’ much. I just wanna know why. Why he was– why you were–”

“I–” Don’t fucking cry. “I was trapped. Every time I tried to leave, he’d tie me down more. It… it wasn’t as easy as you fucking think, Steve. Rose-colored glasses, wool over my eyes, wolf in sheep's clothing, that sorta thing, ya know? These last couple years, I… I don’t know why tonight was it, and I don’t know how I was able to get out, and I just… I don’t fucking know. I don’t. I–”

You felt tears again.

“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”

“No, I know,” you cut him off, setting down your mug to rub your face in your hands. “I know. But I need you to understand that I– God, my fucking brain feels so scrambled. I just feel so confused, I feel like I’m going insane right now. Fuck!”

You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths to feed your strained lungs, holding on to each before exhaling. In, hold, out, repeat.

The room was spinning again, whirling around like a sick carnival ride as your center of gravity began to give.

As you braced the counter, strong hands and warm, muscular arms engulfed you, lifting you back from the countertop and guiding you into the middle of the kitchen. Steve pressed into you until you relented, reaching your arms around him and pulling him closer. The tension in your shoulders melted, migrating to your chest where your heart surged the moment he touched you, where it pounded against your sternum, threatening to break out of its marrow cage. You inhaled him, savoring him, feeling him all around you.

Slowly, delicately, Steve unwrapped from you. He was careful with every touch, as if he would shatter you– even though he had no problem with putting you back together again. He’d done it a million times before, and he’d do it a million times again.

He’d do it all again for you.

Steve carefully slid your hands from around his center, placing one onto his shoulder, then– nervously and ever-so-slowly– he held your other hand out, sliding down your forearm and entwining his fingers into yours. His free hand fell softly onto your waist, fingers absently and lightly kneading the fabric and skin underneath his palm.

“May I have this dance?” he whispered.

You looked up from the floor to Steve, speechless. You nodded.

Then, he started to sway. He guided you both, rocking side to side to an unheard rhythm and subtly spinning in unison under the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He smiled softly, boyish and genuine, with admiration and tenderness in his eyes. Something gentle and kind, something about the feeling and the familiarity of it– of him– sank into you the longer you looked at him. Your focus shifted around the features of his chiseled face. You recognized the light freckles stippled across his nose and cheeks leftover from the summer; the scar on his earlobe from the night Natasha drunkenly dared you to pierce his ear and failed; the faint worry lines sculpted into his forehead he inherited from his father; the soft, full pink of his lips that innocently parted when you caught him staring at you.

It was the feeling that felt foreign to you; the one missing from your life after the last two years. But, it wasn’t missing. It had been right in front of you the entire time stealing glances, accidental touches, and irreplaceable memories.

Steve had been there.

Steve had been the one looking at you like that for the last two years.

He wasn’t missing. He was just waiting his turn.

And, judging by the realization that washed over your face, his waiting was over.

Steve's smile widened as he squeezed your waist, wordlessly confirming the thoughts running rampant in your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the ghost of a cry, blinking away tears forming in the corners of his vision.

Your lips trembled as you smiled back. Slowly, you snaked your hand from his shoulder to his cheek and cupped his face. He leaned into your touch instantly, stubble and skin rubbed against your palm as he kissed it lightly. The press of his lips sent a spark coursing through your veins, electrifying your body and the air around you. The two of you continued to sway while the kitchen spun faster, a blurred whirlwind while you both remained in focus.

“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Since the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you–”

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first. Didn’t wanna be some random dude who just wanted you for your number. You seemed too special to rush into something. Still are,” he sighed. “I wanted to be your friend first, but before I could muster up some courage, Tony swept you out from under me.”

Guilt crawled up your throat. “I– I’m sorry, Stevie.”

He stepped away from you, twirling you, then dragged you back to him. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.

“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I promise. I–” his voice broke. “I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I just– I wish I did more for you. I should’ve done more for you.”

He tilted his head to the ceiling trying to stop his tears from falling, but you pulled him right back down to you.

“Steve,” you started, keeping on his baby blues while your own voice struggled to remain steady, “you’ve done more for me than anyone else in the entire world. Hell, in my entire life. I just lost the last two years of my life suffering with someone I thought I loved. Who I thought loved me.”

You brought your other hand to his face. “You did all you could. I just… I thought it was gonna get better, you know? I thought, I hoped– God, I even fucking prayed– that he’d get better, but he didn’t. Nothing did. And I couldn’t find a way out. It’s like he conditioned me to believe he was the only one I had, like, he was the only one who’d ever save me.”

Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding.

“I’m glad you came to me. Not just tonight, but every night. It was like reassuring me that I didn’t totally lose you, or like I never totally lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”

His face, red-hot underneath your touch, moved closer to yours. You couldn’t tell if you were pulling or he was pushing. His hands gripped your waist the tighter you held his face, the two of you crashing into one another in slow-motion. The light above you grew brighter, the humming of the appliances was getting louder, the room spun at an infinitely unfathomable speed.

You crashed together.

Soft lips– softer than either of you could’ve ever pictured feeling– fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Neither of you moved, staying locked together until your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer and smashing his nose into your cheek. His grip became bruising as his fingers kneaded into your waist, steadying himself with your hips. You felt another surge of electricity as his tongue jutted out, parting your lips and swiping along the bottom before retreating back behind his.

He tipped you backwards on your heel, smirking against your lips as you flinched and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

Setting you upright, he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”

“Never?”

“Ever.”

You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 month

Text

the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

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

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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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.”

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.”

“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.”

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.

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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fushic0re · 2 years

Text

─ 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗫 𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗔𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — in which you and steve have a secret pornhub channel.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. pornography. all the smut; unprotected sex, size kink, cum kink, dirty talk, praise kink, little bit of degradation, exhibitionism.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

YOU WERE PRACTICALLY BUZZING with excitement and nervousness as you sat patiently on your and Steve’s shared bed.

Clad in only his crisp button up shirt, you watched him expertly arrange your film setup. The two of you had been planning this for months. It all started off as a fantasy. A kink that the two of you shared but knew you could not act on due to the circumstances of your jobs as Avengers. You had a standard to uphold and enemies lurking in every corner looking for the smallest speck of dirt on you to use as leverage. A sex tape wouldn’t exactly help your cause.

But one night, you and Steve revisited the topic and came up with a game plan.

Steve took one of Tony’s cameras. The billionaire techy wouldn’t notice one of his many possessions missing. Plus, its hard drive was impenetrable. There was no possible way anyone was going to get into it besides you two. Steve also managed to get a custom built Stark computer. Tony was thrilled his longtime friend was finally integrating himself into modern technology outside of work. When Steve asked him for brand recommendations, the Stark heir scoffed and without another word, began building the next piece of your plan. Just like everything Stark owned and made, your computer was the best of the best in terms of security. The Avengers’ wi-fi wasn’t exactly hackable either.

Once the logistics were worked out, you and Steve came up with some rules. You were only allowed to film at your residence on the Avengers Compound. This way there would be nothing identifiable in the background that could easily link people to your brownstone in Brooklyn. Obviously, your faces would not be showing. After pulling an all-nighter, the two of you managed to program Tony’s camera so that it automatically cropped your faces out of frame. Lastly – another obvious given – you would only go by aliases.

Nomad and Lilac.

They were simple and inconspicuous. Lilacs were your favorite flower. After the accords, Steve was a fugitive living the life of a nomad.

Once the camera was rolling, Steve turned to you with a ravenous expression.

“You ready, Lilac?”

You watched yourself getting bent in half and split open by Steve’s cock on the computer screen. The lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the squelch of your cunt blasted from the speakers. You sat perched on Steve’s lap, the two of you scrolling through the thousands of comments left on the first video posted on your channel. Thousands.

��Is this what Peter refers to as ‘breaking the internet?” Steve breathed, eyes wide with shock. “About a thousand people in less than 10 hours watched us fuck.”

“For once in my life, I have absolutely nothing to say.” You stuttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

The comment section was flooded with praise.

user1: look at that pretty little cunt

user2: she takes it like a champ

user3: that man is built like a god AND fucks like one too

user4: he’s basically breaking her and half and she’s just like 🥺 that’s love

user5: BRO IS SHE STILL ALIVE AFTER ALL THAT JFC

user6: he has the prettiest dick i’ve ever seen no homo

user7: kinda want them to top me??????

user8: i had to replay this video like 20 times bc i couldn’t decide who to look at that’s bi culture

user9: if my wife cheated on me with him i’d be jealous…of her

user10: this channel is going to be my new addiction i can feel it

It was amusing truly. Everyone was witnessing goody two shoes Steve Rogers, the golden boy, do things to one of the most loved Avengers in the world that would make the devil himself sweat bullets and didn’t even know it. You, always sitting pretty and prim without a single hair out of place, were splayed out and covered in spit and cum. A sight for the world to see, but only for the man you loved to know firsthand.

Steve’s embrace tightened as the video continued to play. His lips trailed your neck, covering every inch of exposed skin in kisses and love bites. He suckled the spot directly below your ear, prompting your eyes to slowly shut and your body to go lax against his. He slithered one hand up your body, gripping your face firmly and slipping his thumb in between your parted lips. Watching yourselves on screen was doing a number on him. He knew it would, hence why he went through with the channel with you, but actually seeing the fruit of his deepest fantasies was something else entirely.

“You like when strangers watch me fuck you?” Steve purred in your ear.

You nodded with a low whine, wrapping your hand around his wrist. Just like that, he had your entire body under his spell. Your back arched slightly, your bottom now flush against his groin. A growl so deep you felt the vibrations from his chest against your back rumbled from your lover.

“I would have never imagined myself doing something like this,” Steve confessed. “You make me fuckin’ crazy, sweetheart.”

No one would know. It was your dirty little secret.

AS TIME PASSED, you and Steve’s channel unexpectedly blew up. Lilac and The Nomad became an adult channel that seemingly everyone was talking about. Twitter and Reddit pages dedicated to reposting your content were being made left and right. Your messages were blowing – no pun intended – up with requests from viewers, some even asking for private shows in exchange for unreasonable sums of money. Every now and then, a couple of overzealous users would ask for in-person meet ups. Obviously, you and Steve paid the latter no mind. It was the praise and the thrill of sneaking around that the two of you chased after. It became addicting. The two of you simply could not stop.

That’s how you found yourself in your current circumstance.

Since recovering post-blip, Tony had insisted upon family nights at least once a week. Said night consisted of having dinner together and following it up with a movie marathon. They were nights of wholesomeness, which is why the feeling of Steve’s rough hands creeping past the band of your cotton shorts felt deliciously lude. With your back against his chest, his arms wound around your front, a blanket covering the both of you, and the rest of the Avengers’ attention focused on the screen, Steve could do whatever he wanted with you and no one would notice. You gripped his forearm tightly as a thick finger dipped into your wetness before sliding over your clit. He circled it in slowly, agonizingly. Your composure began to crumble crack by crack. Each time Scott turned to everyone to deliver some stupid commentary or Wanda asked for you to pass a snack to her, a piece of your sanity chipped away. By the time your baby hairs were stuck to your forehead with sweat and your limbs felt nonexistent, Steve’s hand retreated.

He brought his plump lips to your ear discreetly.

“Get the camera, go to the guest bathroom, and wait for me.”

Like a woman possessed, you got up without hesitating and began to make your way out of the family living room.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mrs. America? Sit down,” Tony snarked.

“Period. Not feeling good.” You excused, keeping the lie short and simple so no one would ask questions.

Tony’s nose wrinkled slightly before he nodded, dismissing you with a wave of a hand. From behind you, Pepper scolded him.

“You’re going to have to get better at that. You have a daughter.”

He sighed deeply.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Once you were out of earshot, you sprinted up to your and Steve’s room to retrieve the goods, then sprinted right back down to the guest bathroom. It didn’t take long for the love of your life to meet you at your rendezvous, his eyes wide and pupils dilated with anticipation. He made quick work of locking the door behind him before scooping you up into his arms and placing you on the granite counter. You giggled quietly as he practically tore off your shorts and panties, pushing his sweatpants down just enough to slide his cock out before taking the camera from you.

“They’re gonna love this,” Steve murmured, turning the device on and hitting record.

He angled the lens towards the treasure that laid in between your legs, gripping his member with one hand and slapping your cunt with it. Its sheer weight against your already stimulated pearl made you yelp. Steve shushed you quicky, letting go of his cock and letting his hips do the work. He continued to glide in between your wet folds, his now free hand sliding up your torso to push the hem of your oversized sweatshirt up. Once your bare breast were revealed to him, it didn’t take long until he was greedily massaging them in large palm. He allowed the camera to linger for a moment before returning it to its initial angle.

“Look at that,” He remarked lowly. “Already soaked me and I haven’t even been inside of you yet.”

Sure enough, his cock was glistening with your nectar. Your mouth watered, excited to see just how gorgeous it looked on camera.

“Think you can be quiet for me, pretty girl?”

You nodded eagerly, wiggling your hips needily. Steve let you play, chuckling darkly when his head caught your entrance, and he began to push into you. All of the oxygen was knocked out of you. No matter how many times you and Steve had sex, nothing could get you used to the first intrusion of his incredibly thick cock. Your inner thighs trembled as he bottomed inside of you, teeth sinking into your pillowy bottom lip as you suppressed a sharp gasp. Slowly, he withdrew his hips before roughly slamming back into you with a long, wanton moan.

“Fuck. You’re such a good girl letting me have you like this,” Steve praised, low grunts and growls reverberating from him as he increased his pace.

Everything was too much – from the pleasure your man was making you feel, the sounds he was making, how gorgeous he looked in the throes of passion, and the need to keep quiet. You felt like a ticking timebomb that could explode at any second.

And yet, things had just gotten started.

The two of you fucked like depraved animals, pouring every ounce of energy into your mutual pleasure. You wanted to badly to reach up and press your lips against his, but for the life of you could not get your brain to work, for your body was a slave for lust. Steve, however, could sense just what you needed. He placed the camera down, making sure it had a perfect shot of you both, before gathering you in his arms. He pressed his forehead against yours before devouring you’re his with his. He continued to fuck you without faltering, swallowing your whimpers and moans like a man starved.

“I fucking love you,” He huffed quietly just for you to hear, punctuating his words with vigorous thrusts. “I. Love. You. So. Much.”

“I love you,” You hummed, too cock drunk and fucked out. “’M gonna cum…so fucking hard.”

“Do it. While everyone out there worries about you because they think you don’t feel good when in reality, you’re too much of a cock slut and just couldn’t wait to get fucked. Do it.” Steve commanded, his own words shaky as he neared his release.

That was enough to push you over the edge. Unable to stop yourselves, you came with a vociferous sob, the tightening of your channel around his cock sending Steve over with an equally enthusiastic exultation. Rope after rope of cum coated your walls until eventually, it began to ooze out of you before Steve could even pull out. When he did, he had to hold himself back from ravishing you once more. The sight of your pussy, swollen from use, painted in his copious seed was one for sore eyes. He sure to get a generous amount of footage of the money shot, already anticipating the audience’s reactions before switching the camera off. You both recovered slumped in each other’s arms, the hulking blond’s face nuzzled sweetly against your bosom until you both deemed it appropriate to leave.

“I can’t go back out there.” You groaned, your head filling with every embarrassing scenario possible.

Steve chortled endearingly, carefully pulling your panties back up and the hem of your sweatshirt back down and over your bum. Putting your shorts back on was not even in question, you were far too sensitive for that.

“I got you, sugar,” He cooed, wrapping one arm under your bottom and scooping you into his embrace once more. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, dozing off as he walked the two of you to your room.

“Go ahead and upload. I’ll tell them that you don’t feel good and needed a nap, then I’ll be right up.” Steve promised as he gently laid you down on your shared bed.

You made yourself comfortable before reaching for Steve’s computer and doing your thing. You were unable to cease your lips from turning up into a devious smile as your nimble fingers danced across the keyboard.

“got fucked in the bathroom in the middle of family movie night”

After double checking everything, you hit upload and watched the views rise. The sensation Steve’s spent leaking out of your used hole as you read the comments your new home movie was already accruing caused heat to rise to your face. It was still a shock that you and America’s gold boy were living a double life as amateur pornstars.

user1: I thought the load nomad had in their first video was just a one off. Clearly this dude can nut like a fucking champ.

user2: this is so fucking hot especially when they were whispering to each other

user3: KJDHS that’s SO much cum???is that a condition or something???

user4: okay but that’s a nice ass bathroom are they making money off of these videos?

user5: idk if i wanna be nomad or lilac 😵‍💫

user6: i’m this 👌🏼 close to dedicating a fanpage to them

user7: not to be deep on fucking PORNHUB of all places but this is some real shit. you can feel the passion, love, and care they have for each other. this is the type of porn we should all be watching, none of that overproduced fake shit.

user7: this mf is built like captain america what the fuck do you eat nomad

The last comment made you laugh heartily, but also arose some concern. Was someone catching on? Worry filled the absence of lust. All it would take for the entirety of your lives to fall apart was for one person to put the pieces together. As much as you and Steve loved the rush, both of you were playing a dangerous game with your respective livelihoods.

But then you remembered Steve.

Steve and all he had sacrificed for the betterment of the world. Steve, the man who hadn’t even lived his life for himself and never once complained about it. Steve, who was finally being selfish and acting on his own desires rather than everyone else’s. Lilac and The Nomad was more than just an adult content channel. It was a symbol of the love of your life’s emancipation from social standards. The first step of him doing whatever the fuck he wanted, not what everyone else wanted. He deserved it. The two of you had taken every precaution to protect yourselves. No one would know. It was just a stupid joke.

“CHEERS!” EVERYONE CHIMED AS they clinked their glasses together.

“Congratulations, Cap!”

Sam beamed widely upon being called his new moniker for the first time. He placed an amicable arm around his predecessor.

“Thanks guys, and thank you for this opportunity, man.” He lauded.

“Literally, out with the old and in with the new.” Natasha sniggered, earning an eye roll from Steve.

“I can still fire you, Romanoff,” He countered.

The ember haired woman simply flipped him off before taking another swig of Russian vodka.

“On a real note, what are you going to do now?” Bruce inquired.

Steve shrugged, placing his beer bottle down casually.

“I don’t know. The only thing I could really think of was getting a place in Brooklyn, which we just did. I don’t have a plan for my next move and for once it feels…good.”

“Well,” Thor grunted. “You can start by finally getting drunk off of Asgardian liquor.”

Thor reached for a decanter behind him and the former captain a generous glass of the amber liquid.

“There you go! That’s my man! Drink up, spangles!” Tony encouraged.

“I’m not getting drunk,” Steve argued, causing everyone to boo loudly. “But…I’ll have this.”

He turned to you, his glass raised in his hand. His azure orbs were capacious, glimmering with hope. He wore a refreshed expression that you had never seen on him before as he smiled dazzlingly at you. It melted your heart to finally see him like this.

“To our new beginning.”

“Cheers.”

Everyone around you gagged playfully. You hushed them with a threatening hiss.

“I have so much dirt on you guys, I wouldn’t make a single sound if I were you.”

“…. Did that do something to you too?” Bucky teased.

“Hey, shut your fuckin’ mouth, punk!”

“OH! He curses now!”

The night persisted wonderfully. Sam was celebrated in the way he deserved to be. Sure, there was still a lot of work left to do in the world, but all of you were on a new life journey. And sure, new territory was scary, but it was also invigorating. To be able to rejoice together with the people you loved most was even more invigorating.

“Women do not watch porn!” Clint yelled. “That sounds fake!”

“Women probably watch more porn than men,” Natasha argued. “Better porn too. Not whatever you call those 5 minutes of pump and grunt.”

“I only watch women’s porn.” Laura added, her husband’s expression twisting into one of perplexion.

“You only what?”

“Speaking of porn,” Wanda giggled tipsily. “There’s this new couple that I’ve been watching and they’re—” She ended her sentence with the chef’s kiss gesture.

“Who?! I love that homemade shit!” Sam yelled from across the table.

“Their names are Nomad and Lilac on Pornhub,”

You and Steve tensed up, not moving a single centimeter for fear oF triggering something. What exactly was unknown. He gripped your hand reassuringly.

No one would find out.

“I wanna see.” Bucky chimed in, brows furrowed with curiosity.

Sam tittered mischievously, hopping to the living room to retrieve the television remote. You turned to your partner with a fearful expression. Steve shook his head discreetly, leaning in to peck your cheek soothingly.

“And that’s our que to call it a night.” He quickly stated, saving face successfully.

“He loves her so much he doesn’t even want to see another woman get railed.” Wanda cried to herself drunkenly. “That’s so sweet,”

“Good night, everyone,” You bid, swallowing the frog in your throat.

“Good night, you two. You know where your room is right?” Pepper questioned politely.

“We’re all good, Pep. Thank you for having us,” Steve thanked, wishing everyone one final farewell before rushing the both of you to one of the Stark guest rooms.

“Steven! They’re fucking watching us!” You panicked quietly.

“I believe the correct way to say that is ‘they’re watching us fuck’—”

“…Are you actually joking with me right now?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve uttered softly, cupping your face in his hands. “It’s okay. I promise. Thousands of people have watched us. This is no different. You and I did a pretty damn good job at covering our bases. If the world hasn’t figured it out, the people closest to us definitely won’t.”

Silence filled the room as you retired to the confines of your intrusive thoughts.

“We can stop if you’re worried. We’ll take everything down, crush up the camera and computer into pieces, toss them into a landmine, and act like nothing ever happened. I want you comfortable, honey.” Steve promised.

You shook your head.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I just got a little shocked. That’s all.” You rushed out.

“Don’t apologize. I got a little scared too. I mean, my heart dropped to my goddamn stomach. I haven’t felt that since Coney Island.”

His belly filled with butterflies when you laughed, all of your worries dissipating into thin air.

“But you know what else I felt?” He proposed, his soft tone taking on a huskier one.

You hummed in response, your heart skipping a beat at the shift in energy.

“Desire. Lust.” He pulled you towards him until your body was pressed against his, your lips barely brushing his. “I want to see their expressions while they watch us.”

It was like you were never worried in the first place when your back hit the mattress and Steve’s body covered yours.

“Let’s calm you down, pretty girl.”

From the living room, the Avengers played each Lilac and The Nomad video one after another. Wanda simply fangirled, loving that her suggestion was actually being enjoyed thoroughly by everyone. The video of you and Steve having a quickie in the bathroom was the best to play. It had become one of your most viewed videos, the reach far greater than you would have imagined.

“This one’s my favorite personally.” Laura critiqued casually as the video reached its halfway mark.

“In the middle of a family movie night, huh? Which one of you nasty shitheads has pulled one of those?” Sam accused, pointing a finger at each person.

“We would all know if someone did.”

“True. It would be obvious. Did anyone even leave last movie night?”

“Steve and Y/N did.”

No one spoke. Everyone went silent before glancing around at each other and then back up at the television screen.

“B-but, he said she was having…lady problems.” Scott stuttered, his expression growing more and more mortified as he began to connect the dots.

“That sweater does look familiar.” Bucky pointed out, gesturing to the display on the screen with a jerk of his head.

“I, uh, bought one just like that for her,” Natasha spoke under her breath. “It was a souvenir.”

“Steve Rogers wouldn’t do that stuff, guys! C’mon! That’s Captain America!” Scott blurted out in pure denial.

“Not anymore.” Tony rebutted. “That is a free man who can do whatever he pleases. As you can see—” He pointed to the TV animatedly.

“That’s definitely them. A couple months ago he asked me for computer recommendations, and I ended up building one for him. When has that man ever cared about computers?”

“Check the date of the video in the description.”

Unable to handle the anticipation, Bucky snatched the remote from a shocked Scott’s hand and scrolled down to the description. He scoffed with a smile of disbelief.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t think the little shit had it in him.”

“These are just coincidences, you guys! We have no confirmation whatsoever that it’s the—”

Something akin to a cry mixed with a moan from a couple doors away cut their words short. One that sounded exactly like the ones coming from the TV. Your teammates had all of the confirmation they need.

“Sooooo….how do we look them in the eye now?”

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