#duke!steve rogers

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Queen Chapter 2

Steve Rogers is the newly inherited Duke of Brooklyn, struggling to fix the mistakes of his parents while enduring an overbearing, matchmaking mother.  He has no intention of anything romantic in his future, but will a forced love connection with the Queen change his mind?

Warnings: smut, slight domestic violence, minor character death

Friday came and Steve was fuming.  His mother was constantly hovering nearby, fussing with his collar as he left his room and chattering at him about royal protocol as he walked towards the front door.  “You’ve grown so much since you last went to an event, you’re so handsome!  I’m sure she’ll love you–”

“Ma,” Steve said warningly.  

Sarah put her hands up in surrender.  “Okay okay.  Well good luck my dear,” she said as he walked to the car pulling up for him.  The driver quickly opened the door and he settled into the seat.  He thanked the driver and nodded to his mother as the door shut then sighed heavily when they took off towards the palace.  He had not been to any royal events in years, due to his embarrassment.  His mother was right, he had grown physically over the years, so he was sure Queen Y/N wouldn’t even recognize him from the last time she saw him.  He probably wouldn’t recognize her either.  They had barely become adults the last he saw her, and it wasn’t like they were ever properly friends, just acquaintances.

When they pulled up to the palace the door was opened for him again and he was led inside and through some hallways until they reached a large sunroom with a table prepared with two places settings.  Steve marveled at the almost fully-windowed room.  There were sun catchers placed in the awnings above him, little iridescent mobiles tinkling against each other from the breeze of an opened window and casting rainbow prisms along the adjacent wall and floor.  There were scores of plants lining the long window sill with a section in one corner covered by a long cushion and a blanket folded up next to it with a book sat atop.  He was left to wait for her and in the silence he strode up to the window seat and picked up the book.  Steve didn’t recognize the title, “Beauty” by Robin McKinley, but read the synopsis and thought it interesting.  A fantasy reader, he mused.  He set the book down and walked along the window inspecting the plants.

“Rogers,” a voice gruffed behind him.

Steve turned and then smiled.  “Wilson.”

Sam laughed and approached him, giving him a long hug.  “It’s been a while.”

“It has, how are you?” Steve asked as he clapped Sam’s shoulder.

“Well, thank you.  I’m sorry to hear about your father.  I would have come to the funeral–”

“Please, I know you were out of the country with Her Majesty.  It’s fine,” Steve waved away his concern.  “We got her card.  All is well.”

“Hm.  So…your mother…” Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

Steve sighed again, hanging his head.  “I know, don’t get me started.”

Sam laughed again.  “It’s alright, Her Majesty is well aware of how Sarah is.  You have nothing to be worried about.”  Steve gave him a small appreciative smile.  “Speaking of, she’ll be here in just a moment.  I just wanted to come say hello before I’m dismissed.”

“And now you’re free to go,” Y/N walked through the door just then, her lady’s maids following behind and distracting her so her eyes were turned away looking at the fabric they were showing her.

“Ah, excuse me,” Sam gave Steve a head bow then turned to Y/N and bowed to her.  

“Oh, shoo, all of you!” Y/N snapped, pushing away the fabric and waving Sam away, who quickly pushed the lady’s maids out the door and closed it behind him.  “Ugh, I’m sorry, Your Grace, I–” Y/N finally looked at him and paused, her eyes slightly widening.

“Your Majesty,” Steve walked forward, bowing to her.  Y/N automatically gave him a small curtsy and gave him her hand which he took and kissed her knuckles lightly before releasing it and standing straight.  “Thank you for your card.  We were most appreciative of your condolences.”

“Of course,” Y/N said, giving him a polite smile.  She tried not to ogle him.  Steve had grown over a foot, gained a lot of muscle and had become incredibly handsome since she’d last seen him.  He was no longer the scrawny, sickly boy she’d met years before.  He sported a slightly longer haircut and a clean cut full beard, making him look rugged but put together.  “Shall we?” she gestured to the table.

“Yes,” Steve said and held out a chair for her.  She thanked him as she sat and he walked around the small table to the other chair facing her.  Once he was sat Y/N picked up a small bell and rang it, resulting in a few maids and footmen bringing out plates of food and drinks.  As they placed it all down in front of them she thanked each of them with a smile before dismissing them.

“So, long time no see,” Y/N ventured starting the conversation as she put her napkin in her lap.

Steve huffed a laugh as he did the same.  “Yeah, I uh…” Y/N watched him as she piled her plate with food from the dishes in front of her.  He snorted as he looked away.  “I know I should apologize for not being social, but I won’t.”

Y/N smiled widely.  “You have nothing to apologize for.  Being antisocial is not a crime.”

“Tell that to my mother,” Steve mumbled.  Y/N laughed at his deadpan tone.  Steve seemed surprised at her laughter and a wider smile lit up his face.  

“Yes, she is…tenacious,” Y/N said, hiding her mirthful smile behind her teacup while she took a sip, giving him a playful glance.

Steve smirked.  “I feel like I need to apologize for her, though.  I do not condone such behavior,” the crease between his eyebrows returned.  Y/N wanted to run her finger down that crease to help him relax.  “My parents sent you letters asking for increases.  That was not acceptable and you were right to deny them.”

Y/N felt for him.  His embarrassment was palpable, and she could tell he didn’t particularly want to be at this lunch date.  She sighed, setting her cutlery down as she leaned back in her chair.  Steve was surprised again at her change in demeanor.

“May I speak frankly with you, Steve?”  Y/N cocked an eyebrow at him.  Steve nodded warily.  “As your mother may have told you, I’m looking for a husband.” Steve’s eyes narrowed at her.  “But I’m not.  My advisors are.  I’m turning 33 this year and they have decided that means I’m becoming an old spinster.  They’re threatening a Parliamentary takeover if I do not secure a partner to help me create an heir soon.  And since our Parliament is full of imbeciles, I’m afraid of what that could mean for our country.” She looked away from him and out the window, watching the hummingbirds at the feeder outside.  “I do not need a husband to rule.  This is the 21st century, for fuck’s sake.”  

Steve couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up his throat at her cursing.  Y/N laughed with him, shaking her head.  “I can tell you are embarrassed by your parents’ behaviors, believe me I know what that’s like, and now you have quite a load on your shoulders to bear when it comes to securing you and your mother’s futures.  A union with me would be highly advantageous to you.”  She leaned up against the table with her arms, looking at him conspiratorially.  “The suitors my advisors have been finding for me have been as idiotic as they are.”  Steve snorted at her candor.  “So when Sam said you were coming for lunch, I knew it was the work of your mother, but I thought it would be interesting to see how it goes, since I remembered you as a kind but quiet boy.  Now you’ve grown into a full-fledged man, and strikingly handsome if I do say so myself,” she smirked at him.  Steve blushed at her compliment.  “I don’t like playing games and I don’t like wasting my time.  If you do not wish to pursue anything romantic of any kind with me, please say so now, so I may know how to proceed with this lunch.”

Steve gawked at her.  Y/N had grown into quite the impressive woman, not just because she was the Queen, but also because of her tenacity and passion in governing the country.  She had made leaps and bounds beyond what her predecessors had been able to accomplish within just 15 years of her reign and made a reputation for herself as a blunt but fair ruler.  She was very attractive, he’d always thought so, but even more so now as she aged and grew into herself and her own personality.  He found her incredibly alluring and loved that she was straight forward with him.  

“To be honest, no, I wasn’t planning to pursue anything romantic,” Steve decided to be honest.  

Y/N nodded but didn’t look hurt or embarrassed.  “I appreciate your honesty.”

“Not because of anything to do with you personally!  Just because I have not wanted the same relationship I’ve seen my parents or others in nobility with arranged or advantageous marriages have,” he paused, trying to find the right words.  She nodded.  “But I do find you…quite charming.”

Y/N giggled at him.  “Charming?  I don’t think I’ve ever been called charming before.”

“Really?” Steve said, genuinely surprised.  

“Perhaps some polite euphemisms that refer to my blunt nature…sometimes intimidating,” she trailed off.

“That’s what makes you charming,” Steve then copied her stance and leaned forward on the table.  “Alluring.”

“Alluring?” Y/N’s eyebrows raised high.  “My goodness Steve, are you trying to make me blush?”

“Maybe,” Steve smirked at her.  He felt himself getting more comfortable with flirting.  “It does bring such a pretty color to your face.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she did blush that time.  She couldn’t hold his gaze and quickly looked down at her food.  “Thank you,” she muttered, giving him a quick glance.

“Are you not used to receiving compliments, Your Majesty?” Steve teased her.

“Y/N, please.  And I receive plenty of compliments, but they're usually from people trying to get something from me,” Y/N answered honestly.  “They're also not usually coming from such a pretty face.”

Steve blushed deeply, having to look away from her this time and fight the smile on his face.  “Pretty, am I?” he laughed.

“Ridiculously,” Y/N laughed with him.  They stared at each other for another moment.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Steve said hopefully.

Y/N gave him a lopsided smile.  “Yes.”

The rest of lunch was them eating and getting to know each other better.  By the time they had finished their plates and the conversation began to wind down, the sun had moved in the sky, casting shadows into the sunroom as the afternoon wore on.  A knock came at the door, interrupting Y/N in a story about Sam, who walked through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” Steve laughed.

Sam gave them both a disapproving look then turned to Y/N.  “Your Majesty, your meeting with the Prime Minister?”

“Ugh,” Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, wiping her hands and her mouth on her napkin then standing.  Steve quickly stood with her.  “I’m sorry to cut this short, Steve–”

“Short?  You’ve been talking for three hours!” Sam said incredulously.  Y/N’s eyebrows raised at him and he shut his mouth and looked down.  Steve chuckled.

“As I was saying, thank you for coming to lunch, Steve,” Y/N turned back to him and lifted her hand.  He quickly took it and kissed her knuckles again.  Instead of dropping her hand he decided to be bold and pulled her hand, making her step towards him.  He then dipped his head and kissed her cheek, making her inhale sharply, her fingers grasping his hand tightly.

“It was my pleasure, Y/N,” Steve said quietly next to her ear.  She looked up at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open.  “I’ll call you about that date.”

“I look forward to it,” Y/N said politely, but there was a hunger in her eyes.

Steve smiled and bowed to her before walking toward the door, Sam staring at him wide-eyed as he followed him out.  Once they were out of earshot Sam pushed him, making him trip forward a bit.  “What the hell?” Steve scoffed at him.

“What was that?” Sam chastised him.  “You can’t kiss her face!  Or call her by her first name!” 

“Well I just did,” Steve smiled.  “We have a date.”

“A date?” Sam whisper-yelled at him.  “How?  She hasn’t wanted to date anyone…ever!”

“Guess I’m a pretty good flirt,” Steve shrugged.  Sam led him back to the front doors, the car already waiting for him.  “Hey, what’s her favorite flower?”

Sam gave him an unimpressed look.  “Sunflowers.  Why?”

“Just checking,” Steve said, clapping Sam’s shoulder before getting in the car.  His mother would never let him live this down.

#marvel #smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #duke!steve rogers x queen!reader #queen!reader #duke!steve rogers #royal au #modern royalty au #series fanfic #chapter 2

[manzkageking]

Favorite Characters as Gods/Goddesses

Jason Todd- God of literature, drama, revenge, and war

Sakura Haruno/Uchiha- Goddess of strength, heath/medicine, strategy, and wisdom

Kung Lao- God of wind

Korra- Goddess of the sea, harmony, change, and recantation

Koriand'r- Goddess of war, fire, beauty, strength, justice, and love

Steve Rogers- God of truth, justice, and war

Wanda Maximoff- Goddess of magic, chaos, creation, and destruction

Reiner Braun- God of war and protection

Aang- God of the sky, peace, spirits, balance, and reincarnation

Duke Thomas- God of light, darkness, and power

#mortal kombat #mk #naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto the next generation #dcu #marvel #aot #attack on titan #atla #tlok #avatar the last airbender #the legend of korra #kung lao #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #steve rogers #korra #aang #duke thomas #koriand'r #jason todd #wanda maximoff #reiner braun

[ramp-it-up]

Guidelines

Story List

Deck the Hallways

Teacher!Bucky x Teacher!Reader  (Anon ask)

It’s Christmas time at Shield HS. Can you and Bucky keep your secret under wraps?

Santa, Daddy Chris Evans x Reader (Anon ask)

Thanks to a bet with Scott, you are Santa’s helper for the night.

Christmastime to Me Duke! Henry Cavill x Reader (req x @ysmmsy)

Henry is your best friend’s baby daddy. And a Duke!

Try a Little Tenderness Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader (req x @clawnotes​)

Steve can’t buy you with gifts. He needs to try a little tenderness.

Can You Stand the Rain Winston Duke x Reader (Anon Ask)

Winston wants a do over of that infamous IG post.

What’s This?  Henry Cavill x Reader x Sebastian Stan (req x @adoreyouusugar)

Halloween or Christmas? Why not both? 😉

I Still Have You Chris Evans x Reader

(How I Met Your Father AU) req x @maroonsunrise83​

It’s a very pregnant Christmas for the Evanses.

All I Want Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

(req x @clawnotes​) Pt. 2

Steve has left you alone for a week with no explanation. Will you let him back into your life?

My Favorite Things Ari Levinson x Plus Size!Reader

Anon Ask ♏️

Ari is your best friend in town. Could he be a little more?

Mistletoe by @elocinnicole

Daveed Diggs x Reader

Daveed offers his girlfriend some relief as she prepares for finals.

If The Fates Allow Andy Barber (Drew) x Reader

Anon Ask ♏️

Andy did you dirty and you are done. Can he convince you to give him your heart again?

All These Things And More Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Anon Ask ♏️

Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy.

Fin

I’ve made the executive decision to be done with Christmas. Yay!

There will be time for Jake and for Chris, and probably for next Christmas. I want to THANK YOU for this gift of your response to this challenge.

I’ve pushed myself and grown so much, written 11 new fics, and have been in awe at the response. You’ve given me a new kink that I’m obsessed with, 👀 and I’ve earned new friends.

I’m going to chill for a bit, and revisit those WIPs that need attention. Requests are closed for a while, at least until Valentines Day 🥰

Thank you, thank you, thank you! And Love you all!

❤️💚❤️

#dj’salliwant4kchristmas22 #ask dj #dj will answer #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #HIMYF #HIMYF series #how i met your father #how i married your mother #sebastian stan #henry cavill rpf #rpf #henry cavill #steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #winston duke

[nolanfa]

Team "I can't fight them? Watch me."

More of this series here

fill for @allcapsbingo 's prompt "black eye"

#allcapsbingo2023 #steve rogers #signal #duke thomas #how to be a superhero #dc #marvel #fanart #fandom #batfam #avengers #batman #nosart #nosfinal

[gotham-at-nightfall]

Uncanny Avengers #1

#uncanny avengers #captain america #steve rogers #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #psylocke #kwannon #penance #monet st croix #deadpool #wade wilson #new mutant liberation front #captain krakoa #the blob #fred dukes #wildside #richard gill #fenris #andreas von strucker #andrea von strucker #marvel comics #marvel spoilers #matt reads a thing #i posted this

[heckcareoxytwit]

The fight between Avengers Unity Squad and impostor-Captain Krakoa's Mutant Liberation Front does not go well for the former (Captain America's team).

Uncanny Avengers v4 #1, 2023 (1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th pics)

Uncanny Avengers v4 #2, 2023 (6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th and 13th pics)

#Uncanny Avengers #Captain America #Steve Rogers #Psylocke #Kwannon #Quicksilver #Pietro Maximoff #Penance #Monet St Croix #Deadpool #Wade Wilson #Rogue #Anna Marie #Black Widow #Natasha Romanoff #Avengers Unity Squad #Blob #Fred Dukes #Wildside #Richard Gill #Captain Krakoa #Fenris Twins #Fenris #Andreas Von Strucker #Andrea Von Strucker #Mutant Liberation Front #marvel

[comicwaren]

From Uncanny Avengers Vol. 4 #002, “New Avengers”

Art by Javier Garrón and Morry Hollowell

Written by Gerry Duggan

#uncanny avengers #captain krakoa #captain america #steve rogers #black widow #natasha romanoff #blob #fred dukes #penance #monet st. croix #andrea von strucker #andreas von strucker #wildside #richard gill #psylocke #kwannon #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #deadpool #wade wilson #ben urich #marvel #comics #marvel comics

[justdealingwithsomeissues]

We have also had like 10 Spider Queen upskirt panty shots for some reason as well..

#Marvel #Invaders #Steve Rogers ~ Captain America #Madeline Joyce ~ Miss America #Duke O Dowd ~ Human Meteor #Shannon Kane ~ Spider Queen #Percy van Norton ~ Strong Man

[heybatterbats]

Stuff I’m Writing!

One-Shots

Rings (Batfamily, Cass-centric)

Cass starts wearing a new piece of jewelry; Bruce finds out the deeper meaning behind it. (Ace Cass!)

all the world’s a stage (Batfamily, Cass-centric)

Cass performs in a new production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest. The whole family turns out to watch.

Longer Stuff

A Shadow in Pointe Shoes (Batfamily, Cass-centric)

When Cassandra Cain escapes her father, she hides out in the Gotham Ballet and accidentally starts rumors that it’s haunted. (This has not been updated in forever but I am still working on it!)

all heaven in a rage (Batfamily/DC/Arkhamverse, Jason-centric)

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy rescue Jason Todd from beneath Arkham Asylum. (Warning, this is my darkest fic and deals with a lot of heavy stuff!)

G.M.L.I. (Batfamily/DC)

Bruce and his family are mers living at the Gotham Marine Life Institute, an aquarium run by various other DC characters.

Series

Vampire Bats (Batfamily)

2023 spooky fic! Vampire Bruce Wayne starts fighting crime as the Bat and manages to start his own vampire colony along the way.

Stuff That Isn’t Batfam/DC

A Different Turn (X-Men/Captain America: The First Avenger)

The Howling Commandos rescue young Erik Lehnsherr from a Nazi lab and change the course of history in the process.

#batfamily #batfam #dc #dc comics #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #harper row #cullen row #dc fanfic #batfamily fanfic #x men #the avengers #steve rogers #erik lehnsherr #howling commandos #marvel fanfic #writblr #ficblr #hello tumblr

[agentxthirteen]

Sharon-A-Day, Day 517 (6/1/23)

Avengers Roll Call. On sale 4/25/12.

   Writers: Jeff Christiansen, Mike O'Sullivan, Stuart Vandal, Sean McQuaid, Rob London, Markus Raymond, Patrick Duke, Roger Ott, Patrick D. Ryall, Madison Carter, Ronald Byrd, Anthony Cotilletta, Kevin Garcia    Pencillers: Dalibor Talajic, Gus Vazquez

Sharon appears in the Captain America update.

#sharon carter #agent 13 #captain america #steve rogers #avengers roll call #jeff christiansen #mike o'sullivan #stuart vandal #sean mcquaid #rob london #markus raymond #patrick duke #roger ott #patrick d ryall #madison carter #ronald byrd #anthony cotilletta #kevin garcia #dalibor talajic #gus vazquez

[theartofangirling]

part 3 of the 2023 version of this post: adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 2: young adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

yerba buena by nina lacour

if we were villains by m.l. rio

everyone in this room will someday be dead by emily r. austin

i want to be a wall by honami shirono

portrait of a thief by grace d. li

the thirty names of night by zeyn joukhadar

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong

love & other disasters by anita kelly

take a hint, dani brown by talia hibbert

boyfriend material by alexis hall

almost like being in love by steve kluger

the charm offensive by alison cochrun

something wild & wonderful by anita kelly

red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston

something to talk about by meryl wilsner

honey girl by morgan rogers

one last stop by casey mcquiston

once ghosted, twice shy by alyssa cole

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

a spindle splintered by alix e. harrow

finna by nino cipri

every heart a dooryway by seanan mcguire

the starless sea by erin morgenstern

under the whispering door by tj klune

space opera by catherynne m. valente

light from uncommon stars by ryka aoki

dead collections by isaac fellman

the city we became by n.k. jemisin

light carries on by ray nadine

an absolutely remarkable thing by hank green

feed them silence by lee mandelo

summer sons by lee mandelo

upright women wanted by sarah gailey

lavender house by lev a.c. rosen

fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe by fannie flagg

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

a master of djinn by p. djeli clark

witchmark by c.l. polk

a marvellous light by freya marske

a restless truth by freya marske

when women were dragons by kelly barnhill

plain bad heroines by emily m. danforth

a lady for a duke by alexis hall

infamous by lex croucher

passing strange by ellen klages

even though i knew the end by c.l. polk

the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo

whiskey when we're dry by john larison

wake of vultures by lila bowen

silver in the wood by emily tesh

the once and future witches by alix e. harrow

the kingdoms by natasha pulley

a tip for the hangman by allison epstein

she who became the sun by shelley parker-chan

the song of achilles by madeline miller

spear by nicola griffith

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir

some desperate glory by emily tesh

all systems red by martha wells

a psalm for the wild built by becky chambers

the mimicking of known successes by malka older

winter's orbit by everina maxwell

fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard

empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo

legends and lattes by travis baldree

the house in the cerulean sea by tj klune

other ever afters by melanie gillman

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon

a day of fallen night by samantha shannon

a strange and stubborn endurance by foz meadows

the unbroken by c.l. clark

real queer america by samantha allen

fun home by alison bechdel

in the dream house by carmen maria machado

better living through birding by christian cooper

why fish don't exist by lulu miller

#lgbtq+ books #queer books #book recommendations #gay books #book flow chart #part 3 of 3! #AND THAT'S IT oh my god this took me days #mp

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Queen Chapter 3

Steve Rogers is the newly inherited Duke of Brooklyn, struggling to fix the mistakes of his parents while enduring an overbearing, matchmaking mother.  He has no intention of anything romantic in his future, but will a forced love connection with the Queen change his mind?

Warnings: smut, slight domestic violence, minor character death

Two weeks later Steve was waiting in the gigantic foyer of the palace for Y/N for their date.  Since they would be followed by security and photographers no matter where they went, Steve decided to take her to a friend’s art gallery showing and then dinner afterwards.  She would be a bit of a surprise guest, but having the Queen show up to an event like this would put his friend on the radar, as well as get her to meet some of his friends and see how she interacted with them on a more casual level.  

Y/N came down the stairs a few minutes later, dressed in a floor length, sage green, off-shoulder dress with ruffled tiers and shiny floral accents.  It was perfect for a spring night and Steve couldn’t stop staring at her as she seemed to glide down the stairs.  He felt severely underdressed in his white dress shirt and navy blue pants, a light cardigan hanging on his arm just in case.  She met him at the bottom step, looking him over appreciatively.

“Hey,” she greeted him, a small smile on her face.

“Hi,” Steve breathed, staring at the light green accent makeup on the corners of her eyes.  “You look…amazing,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” Y/N smirked at him.  “You look very dashing yourself.”

Steve blushed.  “I feel very underdressed next to you.”

“You shouldn’t.  I like it,” she complimented him again. 

He pulled out a small sunflower he’d been hiding under his cardigan.  “For you,” he said, lifting it towards her.  Y/N’s face softened at the sweet gesture and she gently held the flower in between her fingers.  “Actually, may I?”  Steve changed his mind and took the flower then reached up towards her hair.  He tucked the flower behind her ear, securing it in her hair that was pulled back into a low style.  He smiled at the flower in her hair.  “Beautiful,” he breathed.  

“Thank you,” Y/N said softly, looking slightly dazed.

He offered his arm out to her.  “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she giggled and looped her arm around his.  He led her out to his car, opening the door for her before jogging to his side and getting in.  As they drove he could see the security cars follow closely behind them.  “I’m excited,” Y/N piped up.  “I haven’t been to an art gallery in a long time.”

“I hope you like this one.  Buck’s been working hard on this collection for a while,” Steve said.

“Buck?” Y/N asked, looking at him quizzically.

“Oh, haha, James Barnes,” Steve laughed.  “His nickname is Bucky.”

“Oh Barnes!  Yes, his sister Rebecca is a good friend of mine,” Y/N said excitedly.  “I hope she’ll be there.”

“She most likely will,” Steve smiled, already feeling excited with her.

When they reached the gallery he quickly jumped out and went around to open her door.  Photographers that had been following the royal security cars popped out from seemingly everywhere as Y/N took his hand and exited the car.  She held his hand as they quickly walked to the front doors, ignoring the photographers yelling at her and him.  Once they were inside it was like she was swarmed by people, her security quickly coming over to disperse people away from them.  

“Your Majesty!  What a surprise,” Bucky was allowed through the crowd of people.

“Bucky,” Y/N smiled at him, using his nickname to make the greeting more casual.  She took his hand and gave it a squeeze, leaning in to kiss his cheek.  “Congratulations on the show.”

“Thank you.  Your Grace!” Bucky quickly hugged him then muttered in his ear.  “Here with the Queen?”

“Yessir,” Steve muttered back to him before giving him a squeeze.

“Lucky punk,” Bucky clapped his shoulder as he pulled away.  “Well take your time as you walk through.  I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure we will,” Y/N said.

Steve walked with her through the show, still holding hands as they would pause in front of each piece for a few minutes.  They were mostly silent as they gazed at the art, every once in a while making a comment about an aspect of the paintings.  They reached one piece that made Y/N’s mouth drop open.  The theme of the pieces seemed to have an art deco feel to them with particular emphasis on the colors of a male peacock’s tale.  The painting almost looked like it was glowing with the bright blues and greens depicting a woman in a forest setting, her face hidden by her hair.  Y/N stared at it, walking up closer to it to inspect the colors.

“My God,” she whispered.  

Steve watched her, a smile pulling at his lips.  “It’s beautiful,” he remarked.

“Ethereal,” Y/N breathed.  “How did he get these colors to look so vibrant?”

“Oh, it’s a glaze mix of cobalt blue and finely ground gold and silver leaf,” Steve explained.  Y/N looked at him incredulously.  Steve chuckled.  “I may have helped him with a few things to get the collection done on time.”

“You paint?” Y/N asked.

“Mostly draw.  I only dabble in painting,” Steve said, looking back at the picture.

Y/N stared at him for a long moment before looking back at it.  “Of course you do,” she mumbled.

At the end of the show Y/N found Rebecca Barnes and got caught up in a conversation with her for a few minutes.  Steve waited for her, interjecting into the conversation where warranted but mostly enjoyed watching her be lively and animated with a good friend.  It was nice to see her speak freely instead of with polite, stiff manners.  Bucky joined them soon after.

“Bucky, it was perfect,” Y/N said, giving him a hug.  “I must buy that forest piece from you.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up at her.  “Yes!  Yes of course!  I’m so glad you liked it,” he smiled widely at her.  “You know most of this wouldn’t have been possible without Stevie,” he said, giving Steve a side hug and hitting his arm.  Steve hit him back, making Y/N laugh at their childishness. 

“He mentioned something about being an art enthusiast,” Y/N smiled.  

“Enthusiast?  Nah, this punk has tons of sketchbooks.  He was working on one that looked like you the other day,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at Steve teasingly.  Steve’s eyes widened at his friend, hitting him harder.  “Ow!”

“Really?” Y/N looked at Steve expectantly.

Steve rolled his eyes before smiling and glancing at her.  “Yeah, maybe.”

Y/N hummed as she grabbed his hand again.  “I’d like to see it.  And your other drawings.”

After she made arrangements to buy the painting from Bucky they left to go to dinner.  Steve had chosen one of his favorite places that had a private terrace for couples.  As they ate she teased him relentlessly about trying to be shy about his art.  They exchanged more stories about their families and lives until it was almost closing time for the restaurant.

“I’m sorry Pietro, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” Steve apologized to the front manager as he paid the bill and signed the check.

“It’s no problem, Your Grace.  Thank you both for coming.  Your Majesty,” Pietro bowed low to her.

“Goodnight Pietro, thank you.  And tell your sister I miss her,” Y/N said in parting.

“Of course,” Pietro said.

“You just know everyone’s sisters don’t you?” Steve laughed as he led her back to the car.  Her security was ahead of them, helping them not get bombarded by people on the way.  Once he’d gotten her seated and himself in the car he jetted off back towards the palace.

“I try to get to know the women around me.  It’s the easiest way for me to know what’s going on in court,” Y/N said nonchalantly.

“Why?” Steve asked.

“Because women talk,” Y/N said, still holding his hand as he drove.  “Much more openly than men.”

Steve laughed.  “So it’s a way to make friends and spy on your courtiers.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Y/N sighed as she watched the countryside at night fly by.

They reached the palace gates and she directed him to park around the side rather than the front.  As he turned off the car she shifted to face him in her seat.  “Thank you for tonight, Steve,” Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand.

“Thank you for joining me.  Bucky is extremely grateful, I’m sure,” Steve said, looking at their entwined hands.

“I’m excited for his painting to come.  I’d like to hang it in the sunroom, but you’ll have to help me figure out the best place.  I don’t want the sun to affect the paint,” she said, scrutinizing his reaction.

“Oh sure, yeah we can figure it out,” Steve reassured her.  She smiled, pleased at the prospect of spending time with him again.  

They stared at each other for a long moment.  Steve wanted to kiss her, his eyes flicking down to her lips and back up to her eyes.  She smiled wistfully at him before leaning in and kissing his cheek, dangerously close to the side of his mouth.  His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of her lips on him, wishing she would move just a little to the right…

“Goodnight, Steve,” Y/N whispered close to his face.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Steve whispered, watching her lips.

She pulled away slowly, her hand still holding his.  He sighed quietly then opened his door to help her out.  She gave him a hug before being escorted back inside, waving to him before turning away.

Steve drove away, trying not to hit any photographers, a small smile on his face.

#marvel #smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #duke!steve rogers #duke!steve rogers x queen!reader #queen!reader #royal au #modern royalty au #series fanfic #chapter 3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Guileless

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, dejection, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)

Masterlist

Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson

Note: thanks to those who waited on this one!.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖

It should be the happiest time in your life. You should be elated, and yet, as ever it is, every victory precedes a treacherous defeat. A proposal one day, and despair the next. That nipping of doom in your gut, that ever present doubt, is made certain by the passage of time. It has been much too long. 

You sit in the pews, throat tight as you keep your chin locked. You breathe slowly, as if too sudden an intake might unleash the tempest brewing inside of you. It is more than nerves, you know it, that sicken you so. You should be happy for your pending nuptials but you are only horrified at the thought. 

The bishop reads out the banns before the rows; the first for yourself, the third for your sister. She will be permitted to wed and your mother has presided over much of planning already. You dip your head as your name rings out beside Lord Odinson’s and you swallow back a swell of bile. You’ve been gulping down your own stomach for much of the morning, ever since you caught a whiff of pickled shallots in passing the kitchens. 

You push your head up and your hand down to your lap, knowing you will be observed. You must at least look certain of your fate. You must sit proud for the engagement all would put into question. For the time until it shall all dissolve, you must play your part. 

You can barely keep from wilting where you are. A prudent woman might bite her tongue. She may commit to the theatre of it all. She might lie and get away with the folly. You glance over at Lord Odinson, just across the aisle, and you know you cannot. It isn’t one lie, it’s a lifetimes’ worth of betrayal. 

Yet how should you tell it? It isn’t only him who must know. Your father would need good reason why you’d rather the convent to a proper marriage. You will be ruined but you could not put that stain upon the only person who was ever kind to you. Lord Odinson deserves an honest wife and a child of his own. 

Your insides sour and you nearly spasm as you fight the tide of nausea, brought upon by more than your forsaken condition. Your eyes trail away from your betrothed to another man bound in promise. Lord Rogers sits with your sister, as ever, and she leans on him shamelessly, even beneath the Lord’s rafters. 

She would deny it. She would laugh in your face should you ever reveal the absolute truth. No, you must confess the sin as your own and that alone. You will not name the culprit for they would they never believe you and he would never admit it himself. 

Yet, you know that the Duke Rogers will ever be triumphant in knowing that he has brought the monstrous giant to her knees. You are his Goliath, the vile retched creature he has slain in his valour. He will be hero and you be the villain. 

💟

You hand the letter to the carrier just before noon. You don’t expect an audience to be granted until the next morning at earliest. Lord Odinson is a busy man; an ambassador in much demand between the house and society. Even his betrothed must request his presence. 

The cart rattles through the gates and you watch it fade off into the grim horizon. The winter bites in the air, adding to the chill in your bones. That coldness that freeze over your heart. You must be strong now, as strong as the valkyrie he misnamed you as. 

When you go to Lord Odinson, you will bring the crown to him. You will hand it back and admit your tainted stature to him. You will show him how truly small you are.  

At least, that is what you intend. You may prove yourself weak as ever. However it should unfold, this engagement cannot persist. 

“A day! A day and I shall call you husband,” Cora’s shrill tone greets you as you come through the front doors. She is in the sitting room with Lord Rogers. Your mother continues to fawn over the last-minute details for their wedding. “Isn’t it very exciting, my lord?” 

“And I shall call you wife.” 

“And Duchess,” she preens with a trilling laugh, “oh, how elaborate I shall be.” 

“My Athena,” Rogers drones back, “my goddess, my beloved.” 

“Oh, how darling,” your mother preens over them, “it shall be resplendent. I’ve made certain the cake will be exactly as you like it, dearie. The cook has even procured some citrus for the lemonade.” 

The mention of lemonade makes you shrivel. You recall the sunny day when Lord Rogers spoke to you over a weeping beverage. As you fell for that virulent charm. And all that came after. 

You peer at the grim windows and frown. How everything does change so quickly. Happiness is fleeting and yet disappointment comes as a chronic plight. You will never know a day without shame. 

You flit off without notice. Your heart rents at the thought that you will not have the same fervour. You will not sit and plan your own wedding with Lord Odinson. All your fanciful dreams have evaporated. It is one thing to put a mask on, to pretend as virgin, but you could never foist a bastard upon the kind man who has shown you a taste happiness. You will be certain to thank him for all he’s done but you will not spit in his face. 

As you get to the bedroom doors, your stomach churns violently and you burst through, not stopping as you rush to the pot and fall to your knees. You wretch into it as your body contracts painfully. You empty your stomach until you are panting and hollow. 

“Sister,” Alina startles you as she rolls to the edge of the bed, a novel in hand, “is it a winter ague?” 

“I...” you shakily wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I believe so.” 

That lie alone singes your tongue like a brand. Your eyes well with tears and you flick them away with your lashes. You sit back on your heels and heave out a pungent breath. 

“Oh, how awful, and just before the wedding,” she sits up and shuts the novel. “Let us pray it passes quickly. You needn’t delay your own nuptials.” 

“Mm, no, that wouldn’t be...” you let the sentence tail off and you stand, taking the pot with you, “I’ll dump it before it can stink.” 

“If you are unwell, call for the maid.” 

“No, it is fine,” you insist, “I didn’t mean to disturb your reading.” 

“You didn’t,” she insists. “What’s the matter, sissie? You hardly seem a lady about to marry.” 

“I...” you croak, “it is the ague, that’s all.” 

“Mm, perhaps Lord Odinson might offer some comfort should it get any worse. He does seem the character,” she offers. 

“Or perhaps he is better to stay away. You as well, should it pass onto anyone else,” you hold the pot to your stomach and turn, carrying it out without another word. Albina huffs and falls back onto the bed, the flutter of pages following shortly after. 

You descend and keep along the wall, passing through the kitchens and beyond the servants’ quarters to the rear of the manse. You come out into the crisp air and overturn the pot well away from the house. A wave of dizziness washes over you, silver spots dotting your vision. Perhaps it is an ague. Oh how you wish it were. 

You set the pot down as you grasp at some stability. You stand and wipe your clammy forehead. Your hand drifts down to your bodice and you let it venture further. You try to feel your stomach through the layers. It is tauter than it once was but no rounder. Not as yet. 

You sit on a low stump, the seat the stabler uses to shoe the horses. You let the frigid air seep through your dress and stare at the grey clouds that blot out the sun. You hold your chin, elbows on your legs, hunched over as you let the stagnancy of that moment swallow you. 

For a moment, you believe that you can make time stand still. That you might stretch on this fantasy a little longer. That a single second might be spent into an eternity. You shake your head and close your eyes as your cheeks tingle with the cold. 

You try to picture the convent. You imagine dark halls and darker mornings. Prayers and repentance filling the days and keeping wakeless the nights. Would the nuns even accept a ruined soul like yours? 

“Miss,” Mary, the broom girl, stands along the path back to the house, “you have a caller.” 

You sit up and blink, a caller? How long have you been there? You shiver and rise, towering over the young servant like the mottled forest creature of wives tales. You nod and stride past her, rubbing your arms to warm yourself as you return to the house. 

It cannot be him. Not already. You’re not prepared. It has been all you can think of and yet you are wholly unready for it. 

You carry on inside and come into the main hall. Lord Odinson waits, your mother chittering at his elbow as Lord Rogers and Cora stand in the archway to the west wing. 

“You will be at the wedding tomorrow? We did not receive your response sir,” your mother pleads as she tugs his sleeve. 

“Ah, yes, did I not give it?” Odinson says coolly, “certainly I will come with some Asgardian ale to christen the blissful newlyweds.” 

“And we thank you for such generosity,” Cora coos. 

“I’m certain refreshments will be plenty,” Lord Rogers deflects. 

“Ah,” Lord Odinson’s attention is drawn by your emergence from behind the staircase, “my valkyrie, you called for me and I am here.” 

“I... you have come so... swiftly,” you remark, your voice teetering. 

“Of course,” he assures as he crosses the polished floor, “as ever I will for my beloved.” He approaches and takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles, “you are like ice,” he feels your hands and covers them with his gloved ones, “are you ill?” 

“No, uh, yes, no,” you stammer, “sir, I only meant... I only thought to speak with you.” 

“I do cherish the tenor of your sweet voice, lady, I would ride so fast as I might to hear it,” he assures. 

“You rode... all this way, my lord?” 

“I do prefer to be in a saddle,” he affirms, “so, shall we converse? Perhaps we might have some tea to warm you, my valkyrie.” 

“Please,” you cringe, wishing he would quit his honeyed words, “I do not require it. Perhaps somewhere private...” 

“With chaperone of course,” your mother insists. You blanch but do your best not to show your unease. “Pollo! Pollo!” She claps, “forgive me I will not be able to do so myself as I have much to attend to for the morrow, but we have a groom here... Pollo!” 

She cries out and the dark-haired man appears. The old groom has a round belly and wine-reddened cheeks. He doesn’t speak more than Italian but he is steadfast in his service. Your mother bids him, pointing at you, then shoos him with a flick of her fingers. 

He shrugs and bows his head, nearing you and the duke. You peer over at your sister and Lord Rogers as they watch. The former stares at your betrothed as he clings still to your hands and the latter narrows his eyes in your direction. Just the sight of him makes you even more sick than before. Of any, he cannot know though you expect should Cora find out, it will not be a secret. 

“The sun room, perhaps,” Odinson suggests. 

“As you wish,” you agree. 

He offers his arms and you accept it. He guides you along, well-acquainted to the halls already, and takes you around to the sun room. The curtains are closed and the space is dim with the shadow of winter. The groom claims the armchair in the corner, making it groan with his weight, as another servant follows to light a lamp and put flint to the fireplace. 

When all is lit, you detach from Odinson and retreat from him. You mash your hands together and sway, spinning back to face him as he watches you intently. He seems unbothered by the spontaneity of it all. 

“You missed me? I have longed to see you again,” he beams. 

“Please,” you show your palms, “please, I... we must speak.” 

“Of? Name anything and it shall be yours. As my wife, you will never want for anything, valkyrie.” 

You wince as if struck. You drop your arms and your head. You stalk over to the bench that looks toward the window and sit, slumped forward as you shake your head. He approaches as he lets out a long exhale. He sits beside you. 

“Something is amiss. Forgive me for making light, I came upon mistaken sentiment,” his voice is grave, “you have something to say and I must listen. As ever, I am the storm but these winds have calmed.” 

You rock and another hot tinge settles behind your eyes. You roll them up and sit straight. You crane to see over your shoulder. Rollo’s eyes are closed as he’s halfway to sleeping. It is propriety alone that has him sat in that chair. 

You look ahead once more, “I cannot marry you.” 

He sucks in air and snorts, “what?” 

“I cannot—it cannot—I'm sorry, Lord Odinson.” 

“Why ever should you change your mind? The banns are read and will be again,” he touches your arm and you shy away. 

“You deserve... better.” 

“I deserve you,” he insists. 

“Please, sir, let me find the words,” you beg touch your temples as you try to rein in your wits. You close your eyes and shudder. 

“You are cold still, perhaps you might move closer to the fire--” 

“It hardly matters,” you lower your hands and clutch them tight.  

You make yourself look at him. You must. He warrants at least the truth told to his face and not the floor. His blue eyes twinkle as his usually bright face is stern. 

“I am...” you take a breath and struggle to let it back out as the words burn the tip of your tongue, “I... am with... child.” 

You choke out the last word and nearly faint. You stare at him, waiting for him to explode. You mightn’t even have a say in who knows should he speak too loudly. His eyes search yours and he blinks. He turns his face down and looks at his lap, gripping his thighs as he nods and hums. 

“That’s wonderful,” he says. 

“Pardon?” 

“Yes, it’s wonderful. We’ll have a child.” 

“Sir, I—we haven’t... it is another man’s,��� you feel as if you shouldn’t have to explain this. 

“Why certainly he put it there, yes, but I would claim it,” he faces you again. 

Your eyes round, “why should you do that? That isn’t... proper. I am not proper, sir. I am telling you that I have been... corrupted. I should never have said yes.” 

“But you did.” 

“You needn’t-- it isn’t fair.” 

“Perhaps it isn’t fair that you should have to carry the cad’s seed,” he agrees, “for any many who would lay with a lady and not seek her hand, well, he can be nothing else.” 

You’re quiet as disbelief clouds around you. He can’t possibly mean it. He must be in shock. Certainly, he wouldn’t just accept another’s child. 

“Sir, you shouldn’t-- you shouldn’t do this. I am releasing you.” 

“I don’t want to be released,” he says sullenly. 

“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask. 

“I meant all I said to you, from the first breath, my valkyrie,” he proclaims. “And I mean it still.” 

“But, sir, you cannot—I cannot live with myself--” 

“You are honourable. Honest. You have told me this when you did not need to. When you could’ve claimed an early birth, when you could have kept quiet, yet you did not. That says more than a fleeting tryst. For that’s what it was, yes? Or do you lay with this man still?” 

You shake your head and look down at your fingers as you twists them until they hurt, “just once. Only once. It was... unplanned. It wasn’t...” your voice cracks. 

His chest inflates with a sonorous breath, “did you want it?” 

“Pardon?” You murmur. 

“Unplanned... did you... was it... your tryst, was it willing?” 

You put your fist to your mouth and sob. You can’t say it. You won’t. You replay it in your head every night and you think of how you told him to stop and yet you did not stop him. You should have fought more. You should have screamed. 

“I didn’t make him stop,” you eke around your hand. 

“Make him? Did you ask him to begin?” 

“Please, sir, I cannot—please just end this and I will ask my father for the convent once more. I cannot bring this shame on you.” 

“Shame? Shame is the man, if I should call him that, who has done this,” he snarls and reaches for you, taking your hand. “I swore you would be my wife and I will hold to that. As you swore to be my wife. We will see the altar together. As one.” 

“You do not have to--” 

“I want to,” he growls and you look up at his angry face. You’ve never seen such fury in him. “I have never done anything but by my own whim and will not change that now.” 

“You are too nice, sir. Too nice, I cannot ask it--” 

“Who?” He sneers. 

“Sir?” 

“Who has done this to you?” 

“I cannot--” 

“I should know.” 

“No, please, I wouldn’t-- it would be my ruin--” 

“No, it would be his and you protect him still, so tell me.” 

“No, no I will not. That I cannot tell you, sir. To say it would defeat me completely.” 

He sighs into a snarls and lowers his chin. He sounds like a simmering bull, readying for the charge. You tug on your hand but he will not release you. You relent and let him cling to you. 

Silence, suffocating and still.  

“My brother was an orphan. We took him in when he was young. He is a duke, same as me, now,” he declares as he squares his posture. “You wouldn’t know the difference. And I won’t. Not between this child and our next.” 

“Sir, surely--” 

“We are to have a child,” he says, “that is happy news and I thank you for bringing me here to hear it.” He pets your hand and leans his arm against yours. He brings your fingers up to your mouth and kisses them, “one day, I will know who the culprit is and on that, I will surely split his skull. Not for his bastard, for that child has no sin, but for your honour, lady. For my wife’s honour.” 

💟

Cora’s wedding to Lord Rogers culminates in a grand luncheon. The bride is a beautiful mist of tears as she accepts the well wishes of her guests. She basks in the attention as you gladly languish in the shadows. 

Despite Lord Odinson’s unexpected and reassuring reaction, you’re still uncertain. You don’t know if he’s keeping a good face on until he knows how to act, perhaps renegs his grace, or if you might come to pay for your discretion later in your union. You’re prepared to meet your atonement, however it comes. 

As you sit for the meal, the chair beside you is claimed almost at once. Your betrothed has appeared throughout the event but you’ve hardly been at his side. Each time you see him, his eyes skim the crowd as if he can see right through every one of them. Yet, when he looks at you, you feel only warmth. You don’t understand how he can look at you as such. 

“How do you fare, today, my valkyrie?” He asks as he straightens his cravat, “you look well.” 

“Good, I think.” 

“Glad to hear it,” he raises his glass for a servant to fill it with sherry. You opt for lemon water, as much as your tumultuous stomach can handle. 

“I thought we might have our own reception at Nine Pillars,” he suggests. 

“I would like that,” you agree, your eyes drifting beyond him, to your father’s gardens, where... “whatever you may offer, I will be grateful for.” 

“Mighty valkyrie, full of grace,” he praises and reaches for a platter, “ooh, they have some sweet ham here with pineapple.” 

He takes a helping and puts it on your plate. You smell the tangy fruit and the underline savoury waft of the meat. You lurch and grasp the edge of the table. You give a panicked look to Odinson as he peers down at the food. He switches your plates out swiftly. 

“Tell me, what are you in the mind for then?” He leans in so his arm touches yours as you sip from the lemon water to quell your stomach. “Valkyrie, give me your command and I will obey.” 

You give him a coy grin, “you can be so silly.” 

“Silly. Mad. All for love,” he assures you.  

“Is their anything dry?” You ask, “bread, perhaps.” 

“Sourdough,” he reaches to take the basket as others help themselves to the spread. 

“I’ll have some of that.” 

“With marmalade?” He offers.  

“No,” your face pinches at the thought, “no, bread will do.” 

You blink and shake of another tide of sickness. As you do, your eyes meet another pair further down the table, amid the rabble of voices. Lord Rogers tilts his head as Cora tugs on his sleeve and giggles up at the couple behind them. He hardly seems to notice as he stares you down. 

You go rigid and quickly look away. You touch Odinson’s arm to keep from panicking. He looks at you, then down the table. He doesn’t say anything, merely carves off a chunk of bread for you. 

You pick away at the hard crust and the dry spongey inside. You take small bites, cautious of upsetting your volatile stomach. The afternoon wears on, course after course, and you avoid those dishes which threaten to overthrow your restraint. 

At last, the cake is serves, a tiered sponge with cream and fruit and candied sugar spun in a facsimile fountain atop it. It’s splended and beautiful. The couple are served first as they smiles in delight. The doling out of servings takes some time as guests wait patiently for their turn and the cake is pushed on a cart from chair to chair. 

When it comes your turn, your name rises over the crowd. You sit up and glance over, relieved at least not to watch the layers of custard and cake hit your plate. Lord Rogers has his hand on the back of his wife’s chair. 

“And how do you like the dessert? I believe you’ve been saving space for it all day, eh?” He chirps. 

You angle your head in confusion. You look down then at Odinson who sits a little taller as he leans forward. 

“You’ve hardly indulged, so I hope you might show your support and delight in this delectable dessert,” Rogers taunts. “A wedding is no place for a sour face.” 

Your lips part. You’re stunned. How could he be so bold as to call you out? Among all his guests and he must torment you. Was one night not enough. Your whole life as his violation thrives within your womb. Lord Odinson subtly touches your elbows. 

“I am most happy for you and my sister,” you rebuff, “and you are correct, I’ve been in much anticipation for dessert.” 

You take your fork and scoop up a heaping mouthful. You smile at it even as your insides rage. You make yourself taste it. It’s so sweet and smooth and wonderful, but your stomach mulches as if it is rubbish. Your cheeks tremble and you swallow, nearly gagging. 

“To you, sir, and my sister, Cora, I wish a happy marriage,” you force out as you hide your mouth behind a handkerchief. 

“To the happy couple,” Lord Odinson raises his glass and the table erupts, at once, the attention shifted back to them. 

You brace his arm and squeeze. You fight but you cannot withhold the uproar within. You stand and rush away, frantically searching for somewhere to hide and spew your guts. 

💟

The days overcome your doubts. The weeks come with more affectations; your sickness ebbs and flows and the temperature feels at times hotter then colder, swaying back forth, while some moments you spend with a throbbing head and pulsing feet. The most obvious symptom of your condition is the tightness of your stay. Soon, you will be showing more than you like, but for now, loosened laces can ease your discomfort. 

Your wedding day fast approaches. Time does seem to defy any human whim. You wish it would slow so you could catch your breath. Much like your husband-to-be who has yet to falter in his affections. 

You sit before the mirror with the grown of silver petals in your lap. There is one still bent from Cora’s envy but you will keep it to the back of your head. You will wear it as proudly as that night Lord Odinson gifted it to you. You hope for the day you might both forget all else. 

If it is to be. If he is at the altar waiting still. 

Albina and Hannah take the crown from you and secure it among your styled locks. Albina smiles at your reflection as Hannah jabs you with a pin. You nervously wring your hands as you admire the lavender shade of your gown. You wish you’d had more of it, that you hadn’t needed to trim it in ivory to make up for your height. Still, it is beautiful and the nicest dress you’ve ever worn. 

“Are you nervous?” Albina asks. 

“Suppose,” you admit and lift your chin, “very, truly.” Though not for the reason she might think. 

“Lord Odinson is kind. He should be gentle,” Hannah says. 

Your cheeks tinge at her suggestion, “sister.” 

“Well, it is what we are all thinking, isn’t it?” She shrugs. 

“I hope I do not find a husband so soon,” Albina adds, “I would like to enjoy my books a little longer.” 

“You might take on the spinster’s mantel then,” Hannah snipes. 

“It shouldn’t be so bad,” you murmur. “Every woman must do it. Eventually. It cannot be so horrible.” 

You lower your head again, trying to hide the emotion battling in your chest. It was bad, that first time. Lord Rogers hadn’t been kind at all. Would Lord Odinson be any different? For Rogers seemed kind at first glance only to be cruel upon touch. 

What if you husband did not want to meet his duty? What if he could not knowing you had lain with another? You would not blame him and without consummation, he might still turn you away. 

“Cora said it was more painful than anything she’s ever felt,” Hannah undercuts your dread. “Though she still loves her husband well.” 

“You shouldn’t speak of that,” you gird. 

“Why not? Won’t you tell us how it is so we may be ready?” She challenges. 

“I... I... It’s rather strange to speak of it.” 

“You are strange,” Hannah retorts with a huff. 

“But pretty,” Albina chimes, “look at you, sissie. You truly look like a queen in that crown.” 

You meet the gaze of your reflection. You do look better than you ever have before. You wonder if they notice the new fullness in your cheeks. If they do, they don’t mention it. You take a deep breath. 

“I shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer,” you stand.  

If you wait any longer, you might lose your nerve. 

The bishop waits in the grand hall of Nine Pillars as you emerge from the rooms allotted for your preparations. The crowd stands among the columns and hushes as you appear at the end of the hall. You face the clergy man and for an instant, your heart dangles precariously, ready to plummet.  

Where is Lord Odinson? 

His golden head pops up beside the bishop and he fixes the flower tucked into his lapel. His long blond hair is draw back as a scarlet bow holds it back, its ears peeking out behind his nape. He is smiling as he pauses and his eyes meet yours across the space. 

You can see even from there how his features slacken and for a moment, you are breathless. He looks as stricken. You put one foot down and let your long legs carry you. 

All your doubts float away. The faces around you haze together and the world crumbles to dust. It's only you and that man.  

💟

The ceremony gives way to a soiree, bodies clustered together, partners dancing, and you among them. Your husband, a husband, has your hand in his as he leads you in the steps. This man, this wonderful forgiving man you vowed yourself too nearly sweeps you off your feet, a sensation you've never known before. 

Your cheer blooms from you as his cheeks flush in his excess. He barely pauses to receive kind words from his guest. His elation is contagious. It gives no way to your fears. 

"Do you know what I thought upon the altar, beautiful valkyrie," he purrs, "I nearly fell upon my knees even." 

"What?" You smile, glowing up at him. 

"That the gods did bless me. That you must be sent from them, a gift to me, mere mortal." 

You can't help but pat his chest, "you flatter." 

"You are too modest," he guides you along, "you are a statue come too life, art in the flesh." 

"My husband... you words are too sweet." 

"I know, I know, the wedding night is still ahead of us, I do run too fast," he chuckles, "but how can I help the anticipation? 

Your lashes flick and giggle, "husband." 

"That word has never sounded sweeter," he grins, "but a sweeter noise might be my own name. Say it for me, valkyrie." 

Your cheeks burn hot, "Thor?" 

"Delicious," he growls nearly baring his teeth, "and I shall savour every sound you make. Every moan and mewl. Every breath and laugh. Just as every part of you." 

It's too good to be true. You deign to let yourself feel it all but you must. If even only for tonight. If only for the next moment. You will have a morsel of happiness if it's all you have to chew on for the rest of your life. 

💟

The night wears on and so do you. Your feet ache, as does most of you, and your voice is raw from laughing and talking. It is the first that you ever spent an event not along the wall or hiding in some shadow. It is a night all your own, or so your husband has made it feel. 

Yet, he does not tire. Not as quickly. As he booms and bawls to the amusement of all, you cling to his arm and repress a yawn. You will not spoil his fun, you will persist. 

Still, you cannot ignore all urges of your humanity. You press a hand to his sleeve and excuse yourself, promising to return. Your husband pauses to bid you not be long and you're further abashed at his attention. 

You flit off to find the privy. You've been several times over the day. Your bladder swells no matter how little you drink. As you progress, you find your body is contradictory to your mind. 

You venture down the corridor and sweep into the room. Once relieved, you emerge feeling lighter but no less tired. The silent desolation of the corridor rather makes your exhaustion all the more potent. 

You turn towards the statue of a warrior, you recognise it, it is the means by which you've found your way. Before you can pass it, a figure appears from behind it and you falter in your slippers. 

You gasp and ball your hands, the man before you sending a ripple of horror through you as he smirks at your surprise. Lord Rogers' cheek dimples as he quorks his head like a cynical crow. 

"You are ever a creature of urges," he muses, "fluttering back and forth as a skittish bird." 

"My lord, I... what is the meaning--" 

"I'm afraid we've not had much of a chance to speak, have we? The blushing bride is much a titter," he chortles, "she has the gull to giggle like a maiden, even." 

"Lord Rogers," you utter, appalled. 

"But the sway of her hips do betray her true nature. That which is within her," he sneers, "as does the curdling of her face over any dish that tickles her nose." 

"Sir, I know not what you mean--" 

"I should laugh truly, to know that another will raise my bastard," he taunts, "that it is him, does entertain me more." He takes a step forward and you back, "so you will be certain to lay with him this night so he may believe he has vigour." He grabs your arms before you can elude him, "you will think of me, won't you, Athena, my fallen goddess? Of how I desecrated your--" 

Suddenly, you are staggered. Lord Rogers is swung backward and flung into the statue. There's a roar, tha same noise you would expect of a charging bear, and the flash of scarlet. You watch paralysed as Thor grabs Lord Rogers by his jacket and spins him, throwing him into the other wall. 

The smaller of the men, though they are both built well, slides to one knee, his hand on the plaster. The other is quick, wasting not a second before aims a foot into Rogers' stomach. The duke falls backward and is at once straddled beneath the larger. 

Thor lays blows upon the other man, hailing down on him like the tempest he claims himself. Your fear overflows and you push through the thick waves. You come forward numbly and pull your husband by the back of his collar.  

"Please sir, unhand him." 

"You would defend this animal!" He wails down another fist and growls. 

"No, no, I would not spare him but I would... I would have my husband not take me to my wedding night with bloodied knuckles. Thor," you pet the back of his head, "let this be a happy day. Please." 

He sits back on his heels and puffs out. He looks back at you as you step away. You put your hand to your middle.  

"Husband?" 

He snarls and spits on Lord Rogers, standing with a huff. You reach for his hand and he takes it. He squeezes as he sends one last kick of his toe to the man on the floor. 

"Let me save my strength for you, wife. I certainly would need it." 

#thor #steve rogers #thor x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #guileless #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #au #regency au

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

【Synopsis】 : Bucky was your protector. The king of the land, but even the king has his dark side, and now Ser Rogers, the leading knight, must help you love him.

[Word count] : 2.53k

-> Genre: Smut. Angst. Fantasy Au.

Paring: Vampire!Husband!Bucky x Dutchess!Reader x Knight!Husband!Steve

[Warnings] : Sweat. Mention of dying and death. Sickness. Blood drinking. Cutting yourself (this could be very triggering, please be mindful) some powerplay. Unprotected sex (dont do that). Desperate Dom Bucky. Switch-to sub Reader. Dom Steve. Making out. Swearing. Crying. Some angst. Steve kinda just sits and watches ahah.

Masterlist | Navigation

Something was wrong before you even stepped foot in the throne room. All the torches were trailing a thin line of smoke, and a haze had swallowed the moonlight coming from the slightly covered windows. Heavy breathing can be heard from the other side of the room. You can tell it’s Bucky before you even cross halfway to the throne.

“James?” You call out.

“Stop,” comes a weak plea.

You take a couple of steps closer and see your husband curled up into a ball on the throne with a blanket wrapped around him. He’s sweaty, and his hair is sticking to his skin, covering his face. His shoulder moves heavily with each breath, forcing air in and out of his lungs. You reach out a shaky hand to touch his shoulder, but he flinches away from you.

“Jamie,” you say again.

Slowly and jittery, he looks up to you. He’s pale, and his eyes are dark in the shadows. There’s drool and snot all over his face, and he looks as if he’s been crying. You’ve never seen him like this, and it’s scaring you. You don’t know how to comfort him. He’s the Duke of Brooklyn. He’s a leader. He’s never shown weakness.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” He breathes out through gritted teeth, feeling pain cloud his judgement.

You clasp your hands close to your chest. “What do you want me to do?” You ask with sincerity. You want to help, you want to make whatever this is, stop.

He looks off for a second before coming back to you. “Steve. Grab Stevie,” he says before curling into a ball groaning in agony.

Ser Rogers, he’ll know what’s happening. You rush off, leaving your husband to find help. You rush down the hallways and across the castle with your dress pulled up high. How unladylike some would say. Finally getting to the knight’s quarter, you bang on Steve’s door. No response. You knock again, and this time there’s an answer from the other side, a very tired answer. The door finally opens, and your other husband opens the door with nothing on. You’ve seen his jewels a thousand times, so you don’t even take any notice in the moment.

“Put some clothes on, Buck needs you,” you blurt out. “He’s ill, and I don’t know what to do!” You exclaim.

Steve’s eyes widen as if he is now fully awoken and moves back into his room to grab some clothes. “Why not grab the doctor!?” He calls back.

“He wanted you!”

With your reply, he only looks even more confused. He slips on his pants and then a belt along with his knife. Just in case. Once dressed, you lead him all the way back to the throne room. The smoke has cleared since the doors have been opened, and you can spy that Bucky has fallen off the thrown onto the floor. He’s still wrapped up in his blanket and breathing heavily. You and Steve rush over to him as an uncontrollable fear squeezes your chest.

Steve kneels down and rolls Bucky over with a hand on his shoulder. Their Duke shouts in pain as if the touch of another is tormentful. Bucky sits up and shuffles backwards until he hits the throne with a huff. He looks at them, and you’re able to finally see it. His eyes shimmer a scarlet red. They look to you as if you’re just prey and nothing more. His heavy breathing stops, and it’s almost as if his eyes narrow down on you, ready to strike within seconds.

Before he can do anything, Steve steps in between you and the Duke. He forcefully places his hand on Bucky even though he hisses in pain, trying to get away from him. But he holds him in place as he moves his neck to one side, then the other, shaking it side to side. A sharp breath is taken in like Steve is shocked to see something. You can’t see from where to stand, but it must be bad.

“It got you,” Steve curses.

“What? What got him?” You ask.

“No,” Bucky almost whimpers. “Get away from me before I hurt you.”

You step around Steve to see what he’s looking at. His fingers brush over a red bite mark on Bucky neck. It looks painful, and there’s dried blood all around it.

“What’s happened,” you ask again. You have the right to know.

“I’m a fool,” Bucky says before covering his head with his blanket, hiding himself away.

Steve sits back with his knees to his chest. His gaze is hazy, he’s thinking, maybe overthinking. You kneel down next to him and place your hand over his. He slowly looks to you, staring at you for the longest time.

“On the brink of dawn today on our way back from South Brooklyn, we were attacked. It was only one man, and he took down five of our finest soldiers,” he tells out, looking off as if reliving the day. “This man separated us, and I lost sight of our Duke for only a minute. Just one... But I guess that was all it took.”

“Who was this man?”

“No.” He looks to you. “What was this man. I’ve only heard of tales in the north of these creatures. These creatures that live off blood, and with it, they have a strength that is beyond any man. But they crave blood, and that’s what this creature was doing. He drained my men of their blood as I saved our Duke. I… I had to leave them there to save him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this happened?” You ask, more worry swelling up in your throat.

“We didn’t want to tell you of this attack to not worry you,” Steve admits.

You look back to Bucky cowering away. You don’t feel disgusted for what he is… or what he’s becoming. You feel pity, and you still want to help him. You reach out and move the blanket away from your husband’s face. He flinches away, but his red eyes meet your gaze. He expects to see anger, disgust, or even fear. But none of that shows in your face. Worry is what he sees. Worry for him? But why?

“You don’t need to hide yourself. Tell me how to help,” you offer him your understanding.

He opens his mouth to talk, but he shuts it, thinking his words over before he speaks, “I can’t stop wanting. Everything is so painful. I can feel and hear everything and…” he trails off, looking at your chest, “I can hear your heart. I can hear your blood rushing through it.”

You can feel your heart quicken a little at the thought. But still, no fear comes across you. This was your Bucky. He wouldn’t harm you. And Steve is here if anything goes sideways. So you do something that you never thought you would.

You grab Steve’s knife from his belt and hold it out. Bucky’s eyes widen, and your other husband begins to protest, but you stop both of them with a raised hand. You are not some damsel that needs to be protected. All you’ve ever wanted to do was help. With Steve being a Knight of Brooklyn and Bucky being the Duke, you have never been able to feel your worth. You’ve kept it to yourself because you knew that both of them would say that you need not worry. But you do none the less.

You hesitate before you cut on top of your arm. You don’t want to harm your own hand or cut too deeply in case you bleed out. It hurts. The pain has you gasping, breathing loudly. The knife is like a fire that won’t stop. The blood already begins to pool and dribble out of your wound. You look over to Bucky to see he’s staring at the blood with wide eyes, pupils dilated to small dots.

“It’s alright,” you say as you hold your arm out.

With that command, he grabs you and latches onto your arm. You can feel his teeth clamp down, but it isn’t painful. The painful part is him sucking at the wound. Drinking in the blood. but underlining a pleasure deep within. Maybe you were becoming delusional, but that didn't matter at this moment. Steve grabs onto your other arm as support, his eyes never leaving Bucky. You breathe heavily, controlling yourself as your arm burns a heavenly sensation.

The blanket drops from Bucky’s shoulders, and you realize that he’s naked under it. And he’s growing hard. You can feel your face redden at the sight.

Bucky let's go with a gasp, inhaling deeply before coughing. He stares at your arm before touching the blood that’s smeared over his mouth.

“Y/N,” Steve breathes out. “This can’t be good for the Duke.”

“Do you feel better?” You ask Bucky, ignoring Steve at the moment.

Bucky nods with a short yes before quickly wiping his mouth with the blanket. He then rips a part of the blanket off with a strength you’ve never seen. He wraps it around your wound tightly and you hiss at the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky apologises.

You grab his face and look up at him. He winces at the touch but leans into it after a couple of seconds.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” You assure, bringing him in for a kiss, letting him know it’s alright. That there is no fear towards him. That he is still your husband and lover. You taste copper as you deepen the kiss and grip his hair in your fist.

He pulls away and looks at you, “Please, I… I need you right now.”

Steve chuckles, “Why don’t we take you’s two to your room?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, no. I need you here to make sure I don’t hurt her. As an order from your Duke,” he says as if he’s out of breath.

After a while of staring at Bucky, clicking in his head on what’s going on, and then looking at you, he agrees. In all honesty, you’re a little turned on at having Steve watch while Bucky takes you. But this shouldn’t be a funny matter because Bucky is now something different entirely and doesn’t know his own strength enough that he needs Steve here to help. He’s desperate as well, and desperation can be a dangerous thing in itself.

Bucky is on you as soon as Steve agrees. He’s kissing your neck and grazing his newfound fangs over your skin. The feeling goes straight in between your legs. You shuffle back into Steve’s lap, and Bucky follows you as if he is stalking your body. The blanket is long forgotten, and Bucky towers over you on his hands and knees. He rides up your night dress with one hand, all the way to expose you to the cold air. You don’t wear anything underneath, for good reasons such as now. This was something Bucky taught you.

Steve watches intensely at the flashes of the fangs that Bucky keeps grazing over your skin. He holds onto you tightly so you don’t slip away, or so Bucky doesn’t drag you from him. You feel a light prick of the fangs, but they’re gone before you know it. You finally opened your eyes, you hadn’t realized you'd closed to see Steve grabbing the Duke by his hair.

“Watch yourself,” Steve says firmly. “Don’t bite, my Duke.”

Bucky nods vigorously before Steve lets go. One of your hands comes around and grips Steve’s thigh while the other is placed on Bucky’s chest.

“Careful, love,” you whisper up to him.

He looks back to you, gazing over you with confusion, then care. He brings his face down to your neck for your comfort. With the hand on Bucky’s chest, you bring it down to your pussy and quickly open yourself up. You’re already wet and it’ll have to be enough. With a gentle hand, you guide Bucky’s cock into you. He utters and whines into your neck. A sound you’ve never heard from your Duke but it only brings warmth to your chest.

Bucky begins at a brutal pace that has you gasping at every thrust. He moves you upwards into Steve’s lap further and further until you’re almost in a sitting position. You bring his head out of your neck and make him look at you.

“It’s okay, calm yourself. Easy, love,” you assure him, kissing his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

He slows down to a pace that sends a shock of pleasure through you with each push. He rests his forehead against yours as you grab Steve’s legs again. You feel his hard-on against your back, and it brings a small smile to your face. You push Bucky’s face back into your neck as he speeds up a little to ride out his high. You look up to Steve, who swallows thickly.

“You can have a go later tonight,” you tell him through pants as you pat his cheek softly. All he can do is stare at you as his face flushes a bright red. He blushes so easily, you thought.

Bucky grabs your hips a little too tightly and lifts them a little to get a better angle. You moan out loudly as he hits your spot over and over again, sending thrills through your being. You can feel yourself growing closer with each thrust. The pain is something you never knew you would enjoy. The searing grip of his hands is definitely going to leave bruises, but the thought of it strangely excites you. You become louder and louder at just the thought, uncaring of anyone outside the throne room to hear.

The pleasure rips through you all at once, crashing into you like a wave at the beach. You gasp out loud and grab onto Bucky tightly as he keeps fucking into you through your orgasm. It’s blissful pain that has you panting and whining. Bucky’s thrust becomes stuttered and you know he’s close. He fucks into you once more, and then he dives deep, coming inside of you with a shuttering breath. The warmth that comes with his load sends a shiver down your spine.

The both of you are left panting, and slowly, you collect yourselves. Bucky pulls out carefully, but he stays lying atop of you. Steve keeps holding onto your body as if something else is going to happen. Worry is still written on his face as he stares down at Bucky.

“We’ll work through whatever this is, Stevie,” you try and calm your lover's nerves. But he is a Knight for a reason. It is why he is a knight in the first place. Bucky’s shoulders begin shaking, and you feel a wetness fall on your collarbone. You lift his head up once more to see hot tears rolling down his face.

“Shh, shh,” you hush as you wipe his tears away. “It’s alright.”

You bring him in for a hug as he sobs. You rub his back as you think of the future. Of what’s to come. You’ll have to become the stone for both of them. None of you knows what Bucky truly is now only other than the folk tales that whisper in the night. It’s all a learning experience for all of you. But you’re ready for the challenge that comes with this. and so were they.

#1-800-jjbarnes #marvel #jjbarnes #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #stucky x y/n #stucky x plus size reader #stucky x you #stuck x reader #stucky x reader #stucky #marvel steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst

[uselesssomebody]

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 (18+)

the do's (rules & information):

readers must be over 18 reading these drabbles

all works will be under or roughly a thousand words

thirty-one days of smut drabbles

ten days are open to requests for the kinks

ten days will include dark content (will be properly tagged)

five will include a dominant reader

the don'ts (what i am not interested in writing):

i only write fem!readers, with all involved characters being over 18

the kinks i'd appreciate you don't request are anything to do with anal penetration, bodily fluids (besides blood and cum), and certain dom/sub dynamics like age play or ddlg

otherwise, ask away, and i'll see if i'm comfortable writing your request!

the kinks and the characters

october 1: shower sex w/ frankie morales

october 2: ball worship (dom!reader) w/ eddie munson

october 3: sex pollen (dark) w/ din djarin

october 4: consensual non-consent (dark) w/ miguel o'hara

october 5: threesome (ffm) w/ marc spector & layla el-faouly

october 6: requested kink & character

october 7: breeding kink (dark) w/ duke leto

october 8: somnophilia (dark) w/ eddie munson

october 9: mutual masturbation (dom!reader) w/ steven grant

october 10: threesome (mmf) + double penetration (in one hole) w/ frankie morales and santiago garcia

october 11: titfucking w/ javier peña

october 12: requested kink & character

october 13: exhibitionism w/ poe dameron

october 14: dacryphilia (dark) w/ joel miller

october 15: temperature play (dom!reader) w/ din djarin

october 16: phone sex w/ jack daniels

october 17: corruption kink (dark) w/ dio morrissey

october 18: requested kink & character

october 19: edging (dark!dom!reader) w/ basil stitt

october 20: recording/blackmail (dark) w/ jonathan levy

october 21: mask + glove kink w/ jake lockley

october 22: hate + mirror sex w/ javier peña

october 23: cockwarming (dom!reader) w/ steven grant

october 24: requested kink & character

october 25: overstimulation w/ jake lockley

october 26: size difference w/ miguel o'hara

october 27: knife kink (dark) w/ bucky barnes

october 28: free use (dark) w/ joel miller

october 29: sex toys w/ natasha romanoff

october 30: requested kink & character

october 31: period sex/blood kink w/ santiago garcia

the characters (you guys can request)

from stranger things, i write for eddie munson, robin buckley, billy hargrove or steve harrington

from marvel, i write for bucky barnes, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, jake lockley, marc spector, steven grant, layla el-faouly and miguel o'hara

from star wars, i write for poe dameron, or din djarin (the mandalorian)

from triple frontier, i write for frankie morales and santiago garcia

miscellaneous oscar isaac characters i write for include basil stitt, jonathan levy, duke leto, kane and orestes (agora)

miscellaneous pedro pascal characters i write for include joel miller, javier peña, jack daniels (agent whiskey), dio morrissey

if you want to request another character, don't hesitate! i will see what i can do.

notes

guys i know i haven't written in like 1200 months but i wanna get back into the mood with the short smutty stuff

besides, i've never done kinktober and every other one i've seen bangs so hard i simply couldn't resist

side note - dark fics will be only available on my adjacent dark blog: @darkuselesssomebody, but will be linked on this masterlist. if you wanna read the dark drabbles and future dark work, give it a follow!

i am also willing to take non-kinky & halloween themed requests, so if you have any, let me know!

𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

#uselesssomebody #kinktober 2023 masterlist #dark! din djarin #dark!miguel o'hara #dark!duke leto #dark!eddie munson #dark!joel miller #dark!dio morrissey #dark!jonathan levy #dark!bucky barnes #eddie munson smut #bucky barnes smut #natasha romanoff smut #jake lockley smut #marc spector smut #layla el faouly smut #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #steven grant smut #miguel o'hara smut #poe dameron smut #din djarin smut #frankie morales smut #santiago garcia smut #basil stitt smut #duke leto atreides smut #jonathan levy smut #joel miller smut #javier peña smut #jack daniels smut #agent whiskey smut

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Who of the boys you write for gets pussy drunk 👀 it's for science

I really wish I could say all of them

But I also went a little crazy in my spreadsheet (I took it seriously because you said it was for science) and anyway here's a list of almost all of the men that I've written for and the ranking of how pussy drunk I think they get they get from least to most. Click on pic for better quality; full list of fifty-six men holy crap below the cut.

Won't eat you out unless you ask; probably won't enjoy it much

Frank (Don't Worry Darling)

Don Draper

Percival Graves

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes verse)

Will eat you out if you ask; would rather just be inside you

Tommy Shelby

Diego Jimenez

Abel Morales

Horacio Carrillo

Gurney Halleck

Chris Argent

Marc Specter

Boba Fett

Orlando Oxford

Steve Rogers

Will eat you out without you asking; doesn't mind it

Daniel Le Domas

Duncan Idaho

Andy Barber

Nathan Bateman

Raymond Smith

Stewy Hosseini

Javier Peña

James Bond

Kendall Roy

Don Eppes

Eddie Brock

Carmy Berzatto

Indiana Jones

Will eat you out without you asking; will enjoy it

Jonathan Levy

Benny Miller

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Duke Leto Atreides

George Russell

Harvey Specter

Ray Merrimen

Santiago Garcia

Will Miller

Bucky Barnes

Dean Winchester

Frank Castle

Bruce Wayne

Jake Seresin

Rafael Barba

This man will happily live between your thighs. No thoughts brain scrambled egg. You are the sun and he is ice cream melting slowly.

Angel Reyes

Christopher Pike

Eddie Munson

Frankie Morales

Josh Lyman

Marcus Pike

Matt Murdock

Oberyn Martell

Poe Dameron

Rhett Abbott

Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon

Art Donaldson

Patrick Zweig

Anthony Bridgerton

#asks #replies #anon #long post