#nomad steve

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

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

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

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

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

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

Until Fury resigned that was.

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

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

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

Not that you had a choice anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans smut #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #steve rogers #nomad steve rogers #nomad steve #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #nomad steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark chris evans #dark! steve rogers x reader #dark fic #fanfiction #steve rogers fic #chris evans fic #chxrrys fics!

[arcadianstorm]

Bucky can't resist giving Steve's nipple a biting/lick tease. Full NSFW-> Ao3 | Bluesky | Twitter | Pillowfort

#stucky #stevebucky #fanart #nsft art #m/m smut #my otp #smut #steve rogers #bucky barnes #nomad steve #wakanda bucky #beefy bucky

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (4.2)

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

Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)

Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.

Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k

A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.

He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.

You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.

He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.

Translation: I’m excited to see you.

Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.

Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.

Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.

This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.

Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.

You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.

Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.

It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.

Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.

He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.

You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.

You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.

You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.

The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.

The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.

“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.

“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”

Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.

“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.

There’s a shuffling noise above you.

“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”

The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.

“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”

Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.

Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.

Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.

“Sorry,” Steve huffs.

“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.

The shuffling noise sounds different.

“No,” he says softly.

You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.

His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”

You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down. 

Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.

Tap.

“Sorry.”

“Comfy though?”

His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”

The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.

Twitch.

“Sorry.”

You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.

“Comfy?”

He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.

You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.

Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.

It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it. 

You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.

“May I?”

Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.

You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke. 

With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.

“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”

The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.

“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”

“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”

You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”

You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.

The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.

A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.

He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.

Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.

He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.

You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.

His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.

Don’t scare him.

It can’t last; you’re only human.

Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.

The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.

In that low timber, he growls.

“You like that… Knew you would.”

Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.

That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.

Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.

What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?

Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.

Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.

Again and again.

Again and again.

A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.

Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.

He moves to grip your thighs hard.

Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.

“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.

No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—

He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.

Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.

“N-uhhh god—“

He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.

“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.

It makes things worse.

You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.

Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.

His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.

Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.

Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.

“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”

“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.

“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”

You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”

A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.

“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”

He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.

“Sounds so pretty when you do…”

Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.

Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”

Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.

“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.

“More.” 

He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit. 

Too delicate.

“More,” you gasp.

He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.

The fire takes over again.

“More, Stevie. Please.”

You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.

Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.

“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”

Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.

Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.

The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.

“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”

You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.

That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.

Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.

His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.

You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.

Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.

He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.

Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.

He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.

“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”

That fucking mouth…

There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.

It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.

You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.

Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.

Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him. 

He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.

He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.

You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.

“Take the win, Cap.” 

You freeze.

You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.

“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.

Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.

He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.

After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”

A/N: In case you were wondering...

[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl

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

[riedswifts]

AFTER HOURS

NOMAD!STEVE X READER

Warnings : smut, barley plot, oral (f receiving), praise, slight size kink, desk sex, slight breeding, fingering, steve has a bit of a mouth, fluff (at the end ), some dumbification.

Summary : you and steve seem to have a mix of tensions and the top one being hate, but a night alone in the tower shows what the real problem is.

Word count: 2.8k

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Everyone had left out with their significant others, or friends or family. Nat had begged you to come but you kindly declined. Being on a long-standing mission, and nearly being on the brink of death literally- being an assassin and hanging off a building by a falling building is tiring. You also weren’t expecting some things and were worn out to the max.

You were under the impression everyone had left. Except Jarvis of course but that was a computer system. So you had no reason to wear full clothes and being a trained assassin leaves you in shape so you thought you’d be fine. Leaving your personal huge room in nothing but a black widow t-shirt and a pair of panties, no bra either, you just explored the tower in its glory during the night hours.

It was stunning to say the least and not to brag but you had one of the best views. Tony made sure your room had a floor to ceiling window with a space in it to go on the balcony that overlooked the city’s lights. It was payment in a way, you had nearly died saving his life quite a few times and even if he didn’t admit it you were his favorite on the team.

You had decided that you would go out on the very ledge thor and loki fought on. You had quickly snagged a bottle of any alcohol you could snag without stopping and made your way outside. You sat near the ledge but not fully on it. Your ankles hanging off the edge as you sat with your legs stretched out.

You held up the bottle and glanced at it ‘Daviun vodka’ you didn’t care for brands but this one seemed ok and the flavor was watermelon. So you popped off the top and set it beside you as you rested back on your elbows taking a swig and staring at the bottle after before shrugging with a satisfied hum.

You just relaxed not registering the sound of someone getting closer. It was a rare moment when you let your guard down but after all you had asked JARVIS prior to this if any one was here and the damn shit said no. Someone stood behind you and you slightly stiffened.

Without moving you acted clueless before in seconds you stood up and stunned the person as you broke the handle off the vodka and managed to flip them over onto their back holding the jagged edge to their throat. Bored blue eyes stared back at you with the upmost annoyed face.

You scoffed standing up completely forgetting your attire. You didn’t bother sticking your hand out to help him up, you just grabbed the bottle and started walking inside. You heard him scoff in disbelief but you didn’t care, he was a grade A dick after all- only to you- that was.

“Why are you here? Have no friends to go out with?” He asked trailing you inside. You rolled your eyes making a dramatic annoyance sound. “Do you?“ You shot back, it was a fifth grade response but you didn’t care in the slightest.

“Fifth grade response, Cute.” He said sarcastically and you with to cut his beard off and his throat but tony and natasha agreed no killing the super solider. stupid rules.

“What do you want steve?” You asked putting the bottle back, you started walking and made an abrupt turn into the small room. The one where everyone had sat and watched as they replayed a video of wanda accidentally destroying a building and killing people. It was empty, lights off, chairs pushed in.

You always came to watch TV in here because the projected screen was cooler to you. After all you didn’t have electronics until you escaped the red room with natasha. Steve still followed you in there but you ignored him as you picked up the projector remote.

Sitting on the table you slid back leaving from your knees down hanging off the table as he grumbled that you were ignoring him. “Do you have anything better to do than I don’t know..annoy me?” You asked rolling your eyes.

His eyes seemed to finally take in your appearance and you had neglected the fact that your nipples would poke through the thin t-shirt due to the coldness. His eyes darkened for a moment before he sharply directed his state to the screen. “Just genuinely curious as to what a looser like you decided to do when they’re alone.”

Your head snapped in his direction. “Oh fuck off steve.” You scoffed. Deciding to press play on the movie but before you could the remote was snatched out of your hand and you glared at him as he tossed it aside.

He stood right in front of you and you scooted backwards. Your eyes narrow in on him as he licked his lips running a hand over his beard. “What’s your fucking problem?” You asked extremely annoyed your night was ruined by the captain himself.

Though there was the faint throb between your legs that made you wanna stab your eyes out, how dare your own body betray you like that.

After the question left your mouth his eyes snapped back up to yours. His hair was slightly slicked back but looked like he had laid down in it because a few pieces had fell out. He paused staring at you making you slightly shiver. He saw the way your thighs slightly shifted to squeeze, the way your nipples poked through the thing t-shirt. He could faintly see the lace of your panties, he stared at you for a long moment.

Suddenly he grabbed your Ankle pulling you forward making you slid until you were right in front of him a mere inch from his nose as his hands rested on either side of you. “You see, my problem is, i can’t decide if i hate your guts or maybe it’s the frustration of not being able to rearrange them.”

Your eyebrows raised as your breathing sped up a bit. His eyes swapped between your eyes and lips, then they locked on your eyes maintaining eye contact as you felt the coldness of his avengers ring against your knee.

“Well then, maybe that’s a theory we need to test out.” You said as his hand slid up more leaving a trail of goosebumps before gripping your leg tightly. He smirked at how reactive you were to his touch.

He hummed before leaving you curious as he removed his hands. Suddenly they where on the curves on your ass pushing you flush against him, as if it was natural your legs spread allowing the bulge in his pants to press right against your now dampened panties.

Your back arched as you looked up at him and his lips crashed into yours, it wasn’t passionate, and soft- no. It was bruising, full of dominance and emotion. Obviously the fight for domination still stood and as an assassin you weren’t gonna give up.

However when his hands gripped your hips and rolled your hips against his you let out an involuntary humiliating moan. That allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and when he squeezed your ass he let you know, he had won.

You pulled away from him to breathe as you guys started at each other panting. His forehead came to rest against yours before laying you on the empty mahogany desk. He kissed you again bruising like as your hands started to wonder you tugged at his shirt and without disconnecting his lips from yours he took it off.

His hands slid up under your shirt cupping your breast and ran his thumbs over the hardened peaks. When your back arched it caused you to accidentally grind against him and this time you both moaned. He bit your lip before letting it go and kissing down your neck.

He sucked and bit making sure to suck each piece of smooth skin he could find. One of his hands pulled out from your shirt and cupped the back of your neck pulling you up before he pulled the shirt swiftly over your head.

He stared at you for a moment. “God, you’re stunning.” He whispered and before you could comprehend what was going on his mouth had latched on to your nipple sucking and slightly biting it making you moan.

He laid you back down and your mind fogged as you unbuckled his belt. However before you could do more he had grabbed both of your hands stopping his attacks on your boobs.

He pulled both your arms above your head and smirked down at your face, you looked stunning. Hair spread out and marks forming on your neck stopping above your breast. Your lips were swollen and bruised. He adored this sight.

God, he wish he had figured this out sooner, that instead of bitching he just actually fucked you. He didn’t think he’d find anything more addicting after seeing you in this state.

He kissed down your body stopping at the hem of your panties and deciding he was to impatient he tore them off making you whine. “i’ll buy you new ones.” He muttered as he got on his knees hooking his arms around your thighs. His hand pushing your stomach down.

You shivered as you felt the cold air of the tower directly on your bare pussy. Without a warning he shoved his face between your legs licking from your hole to your clit, the sensation made you gasp as your back arched.

“fuck!”

Steve groaned hearing the words fall out of your mouth. His tongue switched from sucking your clit to dipping his tongue in and out of you making you squirm. He looked up at you mouth and chin coated in slick. “Do not move your hands.”

Your brows furrowed as you continued to pant. “Wh-mmhh.” Your words turned into a soft moan when you felt one of his thick fingers slide in and bottom out. Your eyes pinched shut and your back arched off the table.

His other finger slid in as well and you tried to close your legs but he pulled them further apart. He watched your expression as he pulled them out almost fully before slamming them back in and curling them. He groaned and nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.

“Such a good girl for me.” He muttered before attaching his lips to your clit again and sucked on it whilst moving his fingers in and out. He Felt you tighten around him and couldn’t wait to see how you feel on his cock.

You were panting and babbling words of his name and please. What really sent you over the edge is when he sucked your clit with his teeth grazing it as he pumped his fingers harder curling them as your fingers locked him in.

Your orgasm crashed over you making your mind fog and your head limp to the side as pathetic whimpers left your plump and less swollen lips. He didn’t seem to care much that you had came all over his face because he kept sucking and licking up every last bit of cum.

You panted as you reached for his pants trying to tug them down as you recovered from your orgasm. When steve had finally freed his cock you assumed your face said it all because his chuckle was dark, taunting like.

He parted your legs again and you tried to close them but he roughly grabbed them pulling you closer to him but you let out a whimper when his huge side rubbed against your sensitive clit.

He made a mock frown face at you. “C’mon now sweetheart, be a good girl and take it for me, hmm?” He said as he massaged your breast with one hand and stroked himself. You nodded now desperate as the ache returned between your legs.

He let the tip slip in and he saw your face completely washed with pleasure. Brows furrowed, parted mouth, marks fully developed, and sweat beading your forehead. Without warning he pushed the rest of his way in and you gasp as he groaned.

You were used to sex of course you’ve had sex before but nobody was this big before. The intrusion felt good but the small sting was there lingering but it only added to the pleasure. “If you don’t stop squeezing’ me i’m gonna fucking cum.”

You relaxed around him and he groaned in relief. You felt more heavenly then he ever could’ve thought. He leaned down and captured your lips with his before thrusting with force and when he lifted one of your legs higher and he lifted your hips your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that had you screaming his name.

“Look at you.” He said panting as he continued to thrust. “Takin it like such a good fucking girl.” With each word his thrust got harder and it made the breath get caught in your throat.

You grabbed his face kissing him harshly and he moaned into your mouth fueling the tightening in your lower stomach already. Suddenly he dropped you legs pushing them on the desk making them bend as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His thrust slowed to deep strokes. “You feel me, hmm?” He said and you moaned when he hit the spot inside you that had you babbling like a dumb person. Suddenly you felt the most unexplainable feeling.

It was like the tightness got tighter but mixed with a load of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling as steve pushed his hand down harder on your lower tummy. “you feel that.” he panted as he thrusted again. “That’s how deep i am inside of you…”

“ohmygodohmygod.” was all you could babble as he pressed harder making the coil tighten up. “Steve- i’m gonna-“ He shut you up by kissing you as the hand that was pressing the bulge moved to your clit. “Do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.” He whispered as his thrust did not slow down.

He suddenly put his other hand behind your neck making you look down at his cock slipping in and out of you. “fuck- you see that?” He said as he kept moving in and out. Your hand was holding his wrist as his hand was behind your neck.

“C’mon- fuck!.” Steve said when you clenched harder around him. “give it to me.” he muttered as you laid back down and his fingers pinched and rolled your clit and he rubbed in a fast motion causing the coil to snap, your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.

You blanked out for a moment, as black spots filled your vision and you’re pretty sure you said steve more times than any avenger had over the past years. You were moaning, sweaty, dazed and fucked out. Just how he wanted.

You got pulled back down when he kept running you and you whined tryna pull away. “to much.” you muttered and he mocked a frown. “Awe is my baby to fucked out? Look at you all dumb and can barley speak a full sentence.” He said and you moaned as he hit your over worked spot.

“You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside of you hmm? Gonna fill you all up.” He muttered and you nodded. “Please- please cum inside of me.” your voice was hoarse and he held onto you tightly as his head went to your neck and you felt his thrusts getting sloppy before you felt ropes of cum deep inside you.

His head laid on your chest arms your arms circled his shoulder both of you laying there while his hands wrapped around you. He was slowly moving his hips pushing the thick cum into you deeper.

“Mr. Rogers? are you alright your heart rate seems exceptionally high? You as well Miss.” Steve who was Resting between your bare breasts chuckled making you smile.

“Oh i see Mr. Stark and the rest of them have returned. They’re parking.” Jarvis said and steve looked at you lifting you up as he looked at the cum mess on the table.

“Jarvis how much time do we have?” you asked as steve held you legs wrapped around his waist and due to the serum it was easy for him to hold your short frame up with one hand.

“Well five minutes starting now.” You and steve chuckled as you hopped down and cleaned the cum mess and he gathered your guys clothes.

“Good?” You asked fixing the chairs and everything. Steve nodded and Held his arm out and you jumped up wrapping your legs around his waist as he snuck out the room and ran up the stairs to his floor and shut the door.

“Guys?! Did you guys murder each other?”

That was all you heard from downstairs, before you guys bursted into giggles.

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#steven grant #stevebucky #natasha romanov #steve rogers #smut #steve rogers smut #marvel smut #nomad steve #dark steve #fanfic #chris evans #chris evans character x reader #steve rogers x smut #marvel x you #assasination attempt #steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot #infinity war #bucky barnes smut #chris evans smut

[lovinevans]

We needed waaaay more of this 🧔

#nomad steve #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans #holy fuck #perfect beard #bearded cap #we were robbed

[angelkhi]

love me, hate me - s.r

summary: steve rogers pisses you off, and you piss him off. but is it really ever that simple?

warnings: SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI), p in v, switch steve & reader, face sitting, unprotected sex, talks of bodily fluids, enemies to lovers a little bit, slight hate fucking but also not?? feelings at the end sort of.

word count: 2.8.k

a little note: Happy New Year to you all! finished this at 4 am so not beta’d any mistakes are my own (seriously i just spelled mistakes as ‘mestayks’ so like sorry lol) half based on this request but also something i already had in the works that seemed to mesh xx

"Let's not forget who's doing who a favour." You chide, already irritated by presence.

"Please sweetheart, I'm doing you more of a favour than you realise."

"And how's that Mr Rogers?" You fix his crooked tie. Always picking up after him.

"You walk in there with me? There's no way you're going home alone tonight." He smooths out the collar on his shirt, checking himself over in the mirror. "Your little problem gets solved."

"My little problem?"

"Don't get me wrong, Yels, it's great doing it yourself but it would be nice for someone give me an orgasm every now and then."

"You fuckin pig! You were listening to my conversation?" You're embarrassed. Beyond embarrassed. If there's one person that doesn't need to know about your dwindling sex life it's Steve Rogers.

"It's kinda hard not to overhear yours and Yelena's screeching on girls night." Once again those fingers fly up into quotation marks and you have to blink yourself free from the daze you're slipping into.

Maybe Steve does have a point, you're significantly louder after a bottle or two of rose, but it doesn't give him the right to use your own words against you.

"You're a dick, Rogers. It's none of your fucking business how many orgasms I have." He's smirking down at you now, something in his eyes you've never seen before. "Let's just get this over with. I don't want to have to see your face any longer than necessary."

The two of you enter the ballroom together as planned, and heads turn almost instantly. The quiet gasps and turning heads boost his scolded ego more than nicely. But that's all it is. A soothing bandage over a painful wound.

Stark's infamous shindigs that rivalled even the most grand of galas, yet you are the only thing that matters to him in a room filled with expensive champagne and extravagant sculptures. He watches you from across the room, Bucky's latest debrief on Sam's irritating behaviour blending into the mindless background chatter.

You're done up to the nines, pretty hair twisted in some intricate up-do, and that dress. That fucking dress. He wonders if things would be easier if you knew how he really felt about you, that the trading of insults between the two of you is the only way he can resist pinning you against every available surface and fucking the attitude out of you.

You work your charm with everyone that comes up to you, offering you drinks and boring conversation. You know you're in charge, so do they, and so does he.

He spots you talking to a pretty redhead he soon recognises as Wanda, she's changed since he last saw her. But he much more notices the lingering stares and flirtatious touches, the way you lean into each other and laugh a little too loud. Jealousy is no longer a green eyed monster, but a blonde haired, blue eyed super soldier.

You happen to glance over at him in that moment, taking in his tensed jaw and white-knuckle grip on his champagne flute, expecting it to shatter under any more force. He watches as you smirk in his direction, and the go back to the conversation like he wasn't even there. Sam and Bucky pull him away to a conversation that is meant to be important and he loses sight of you for the rest of the evening.

The party starts to get a little too lively towards 11pm, the rowdy crowd excited about the looming new year. You find yourself at the bar, sick of your uncomfortable shoes, ready to get more than drunk, kiss a bottle at midnight and fall into bed with your vibrator once again. Someone slides into the empty seat next to you, speaking to the bar tender. You catch the 'and whatever she's having' and roll your eyes just wanting to be left alone at this point.

Your double vodka and cranberry is slid in front of you and you take a single sip before turning to the man next to you. He's attractive, with his full beard and long brown hair. There's something in his eyes but you don't care enough to find out that much about him. He shakes your hand firmly, introducing himself as Quentin Beck. You smile and thank him when he compliments you, you hum and nod when he tells you about his latest technological venture that sounds weirdly similar to Tony's, you smile coyly when he rests a hand on your thigh and offers to take you somewhere a little less private.

You're silently disappointed that this is the best you could do on a night like tonight but you're not one to look a fort horse in the mouth. He guides you through the crowd with a hand around your waist until the function room doors come into view and your excitement dims even further. Steve stands in the doorway, arms crossed and biceps bulging as he stares at Quentin and then his hand on your waste.

"Hey honey." He wraps his fingers around your wrist lightly, stopping you in your tracks. He stares down at you for a second too long, then diverts his gaze to Beck.

"Fuck off." Two words. Two are all it takes for Quentin to crumble.

His hand moves from your waist faster than you can blink and he's already being swallowed up by the crowd when you turn away from glaring at Steve. His fingers linger around your wrist but you shrug him off, and leave the grand ballroom stomping down to the elevator.

He follows you of course, right up to your door, pushing inside when you try and slam it in his face.

"Honey that guy was a creep."

"Don't 'honey' me you just ruined my one good chance of getting laid tonight." You kick off your shoes.

"Well I wouldn't call it a good chance..."

"What was that?!" You're about to fiddle with the zip of your dress but instead steve has your attention and an insane amount of audacity.

"M'just saying he wouldn't have been worth it." He pauses, sitting on your bed uninvited. "Doesn't look like he can find his car keys let alone please a woman."

"I guess I'll never know now." You scoff.

"Use me instead."

What in the sweet baby jesus?!

"How much have you had to drink?" You chuckle, and go back to working your zip.

"You know I can't get drunk. How much have you had to drink?" He retorts, reaching up to undo the zipper for you.

"Not enough for this to be a hallucination. What's in it for you?"

"An orgasm." Fair enough.

"Why are you doing this? Are you trying to humiliate me?"

"What? No! I'm just trying to apologise for ruining your New Years hook up." He looks sincere, but then Steve never lies. You on the other hand, would be lying if you said you didn't want to jump his bones at least twenty three and a half of the twenty four hours in the day. And he's offering himself to you on a golden platter. Why turn. it down?

"Strip."

It's a simple word, but it holds so much power. Starting something that may just fucking ruin you. But you want it. He wants it. The easy route be damned. Steve is quick to discard his clothing, looking up at you expectantly waiting for your next request. You simply just let your dress drop, carefully stepping over the expensive fabric and slotting yourself between Steve's legs. His eyes widen when he realises you'd neglected to put on any underwear that evening. She reaches out to touch you, rest a hand on your hip but you slap it away.

"Lay back." You kneel over his hips, excitement fizzling on your skin as he rests on his elbows, taking up an insane amount of space with his broad shoulders and wide thighs. He doesn't move any further, a sly smirk on his lips and wonder in his eyes.

"I said I don't want to see your face, lie the fuck back." You have him under your thumb, and your pussy, when he lays back against the cotton sheets you crawl across his body and rest above his face. His hands grip onto the backs of your thighs, usually light eyes dark with lust. 

"No touching." You thread his arms above him, resting forward and pinning them against the pillows. His response is muffled when you lower yourself onto his face. His tongue works wonders when he's not using it to talk and you definitely prefer it when he's not talking.

You grind yourself down against his pliant tongue, clit bumping his stupidly perfect nose with each thrust. You're taking what you deserve from him, what he owes you and you fucking love it. You love the fact that he could easily slip you underneath him, pin you beneath him and pull you apart but instead he's letting you use him, letting you grind yourself to an orgasm on his face.

"You're not so useless after all Rogers, fucking hell." His lips purse around your exposed clit and your thighs shake a little. You press yourself further against him, chasing your well deserved orgasm until you're panting above him half spent.

Lifting yourself off of him, you take in his flushed cheeks and blown out eyes. God he's pretty. Your hand strokes through his hair and he leans into your touch. Putty in your hands.

You reach back, your hands almost dwarfed by the impressive size of his pretty cock. You struggle to wrap your hands around him fully, but when you start stroking him slow but firm it doesn't matter. His face twists into one of pure bliss and his hips fuck up into your fist desperately. Deciding enough is enough you manoeuvre down his body, hovering over his painfully hard weeping cock. You drag him through your folds, almost slipping him in before bumping his engorged head against your clit until you're right on the edge of desperation and finally sink down on him.

You take him slowly at first, unable to stay quiet as he stretches you open. There's a slight sting but my god does it sting so good. Once he's fully sheathed you take a moment to accommodate, grinding down on him, twin moans coming from the two of you. You raise yourself up again, right to the tip and back down, slowly building the rhythm until you're bouncing on his cock, hitting spots you didn't even know existed panting for breath. 

"You feel so fucking good." You whimper chasing your own pleasure, fuelled by Steve's. He fists the bedsheets, so obedient trying not to touch you, but you look so pretty and broken and you're touching yourself whilst you ride him, clenching down on his dick so fucking perfectly. He's more vocal than. you expected, grunting and moaning and whining.

"Fuck I'm gonna come. Steve." Your fingers roll your taught nipples between your fingers, pinching and pulling. Steve's hips stutter for a moment, but then he's right there with you, fucking up into your perfect cunt until you're shaking on his dick, grinding your clit against his pubic bone and falling over the edge.

He doesn't give you a second to breath, wrapping his strong arms around you and placing you flat on your back. You're breathless, your vision is still fuzzy but then he's pounding into you. Lifting your leg above his shoulder opening you up up to him even more. You're well and truly fucked. Not a single word or thought or even sound registering. You're just wide eyed and open mouthed and taking what he gives you.

"Not so cocky now are we, hmm sweetheart." His thumb flicks your clit once and you're coming all over again, a loud scream echoing off of the walls.

"There she is. So fucking perfect, taking what you need. Did I do well, did I satisfy your greedy pussy or do you still want more?"

"St-Steve. More." You sound so broken, so unalike yourself but you never want to go back to her when you can be this.

"Course you fuckin do. Play with your tits for me, that's a good girl." He thrusts slow but deep, your weak legs held in position by his huge hands. He relishes in your flushed face and smudged makeup. Your hair has foregone the confines of bobby pins and it's splayed out on the cushion behind you. You're fucking perfect.

"Who's cunt is this?" Your eyes lull into the back of your head when he delivers a quick sharp tap to your clit. "Tell me who's cunt it is and I'll let you cum."

"Y-Yours. Yours Steve."

"Good. And who's fuckin dick is this tearing you apart?" It's all too much, you're on the verge of crying from the overstimulation. "Who's is it?"

"Mine."

"Good fucking girl." He punctuates his words with his thrusts, picking up speed once more and rubbing small quick circles against your clit. Your tears do spill then, dark mascara running down your cheeks when you explode all over him.

He fucks you through the orgasm, pulling out of you when you begin to claw at his chest, leaving pretty marks all over him. He kneels over you, furiously stroking himself to completion until he cums in long white ropes all over your breasts, chest heaving and panting. He collapses next to you, silent as you try to catch your breaths and wrap your head around what just happened.

It shouldn't surprise you when Steve gets up to the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth, but it does. It leaves you stunned. You try not to show it though, nor do you give him a glimpse at how disappointed you are about leaving.

"Damn Rogers, you really know how to hate fuck." Steve's gaze is frantic, but mostly confused.

"Hate? I don't hate you." His eyebrows are pulled together so tightly you're scared they might just fuse into one another.

"Could've fooled me." You pull up your underwear and pull on his shirt foregoing the tight dress.

"Look. I don't. Hate. You. Do you get on my nerves? Sometimes. But I could never hate you."

"So what? You wanna call the way you've treated me since I got here a proclamation of your undying love." He's silent. "You can't be fucking serious Rogers."

"Don't be like that, you gave just as good as you got." You scoff, but it's the truth. "Every time I look at you I want to fuck you, every time I see someone even look at you I wanna fuckin... I don't know!"

"Steve..."

"You terrify me. I have all these feelings for you, but you're so... you. You're so gorgeous, you're potty mouth and you're strong and you don't take shit from no one, not even me. I'm an idiot, I know that and I don't expect a sorry to fix anything, but I need you to know that that wasn't a one time thing, I want you."

"Well fuck. You have feelings for me?" He nods, simple, effective and oh so Steve Rogers. "I thought. I don't know what I though. I walked in here and you just stared at me and left, and I guess I though you took one look at me and decided I wasn't enough. So I decided I was gonna prove you wrong."

"I think you're everything. You've certainly proved me right." He looks angry, at himself at and the situation, but mostly at the fact that you'd ever thought those things about yourself.

"Right pair of idiots we are." You mutter, trying to lighten the you're-not-sure-what mood. He pulls you into his lap, rough hand resting around your waist.

"Aren't we just." He whispers against your lips.

"How many people did you tell to fuck off tonight? Just out of interest."

"Bout 15." He mumbles and then laughs, "don't regret a single one of them though."

You surge forward and press against him. His lips are softer than expected and his movements are so slow, so tentative. You arch into him, greed driving your need to make up for the last few wasted months.

A loud bang erupts from outside of the glass windows, popping into a concoction of golds and reds and pinks, until the New York skyline is littered with individual fireworks displays.

"Happy New Year Rogers." You whisper against his lips, though it turns into a breathless whimper when he pulls your panties to the side. "You get on my nerves too by the way. Like a whole lot."

"Yeah yeah. Happy New Year."

#chris evans #marvel #marvel smut #smut #avengers endgame #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers #nomad steve #chris evans smut #steve rogers fic rec #mcu smut #captain america smut #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america #marvel fic

[buckymilf]

imagine a marvel nomad series with bearded hot steve on the run, all of his adventures with nat and sam in the last 2 years before the snap... protecting wanda and vision, steve visiting bucky in wakanda... feral fight scenes... it's everything I could ever want.

#steve rogers #captain america #stevebucky #marvel #stucky #natasha Romanoff #nomad steve #sam wilson #black widow #falcon #bucky #bucky barnes #winter soldier #wintershield #steve x bucky #wanda maximoff #vision

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter one:

Welcome to Greenwood

Series Masterlist

Next Part: Inhale, Exhale.

Word Count: 4,893

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

The sound of the bell rattling on the front door pulled your mind away from the cake on the rotating stand in front of you and the piping bag in your hand. Coincidentally, you had just sent your cashier to break so you moved your work station to the decorating desk visible to the doorframe into the kitchen of your bakery, allowing you to see the customers as they walked in.

"Hey there, honey! I'll be right with ya'." You greeted the customer as you piped out the final details on the custom ordered cake you had spent the last half an hour perfecting.

"No worries, take your time." A polite voice responded.

Your head immediately turned at the sound of the deep and slightly raspy voice you had never heard before. In a scanty little town like Greenwood, you swore just about every friendly face within thirty miles of your bakery had stopped by for a treat at least once. You could recognize just about anyone with a blindfold on and nothing but the sound of a friendly greeting, but that charming bass was one you'd be sure to recognize if you've heard it before.

It belonged to a face you'd also be sure to recognize. An over six-foot stunner with blue eyes, a nicely groomed beard, and what looked like dirty blonde hair hidden behind a baseball cap.

You grinned before looking back at your cake, trying to process the new specimen in the lobby. It only took a few seconds before placing the piping bag down and ripping off your gloves, curiously walking out to behind the counter to help him out.

"Sorry about that, what can I get'cha?" Since you closed most of the distance, nothing but the bake case between you two, you got to notice more detail.

There was some serious muscle happening underneath the black long sleeved shirt he was wearing. Also, he was really good at picking out jeans that fit him perfectly in all the right places. Oh, and there was just a dash of green in the blue of his eyes.

"Just a chocolate chip cookie please." He asked timidly. You could tell he felt a little out of place, rocking back and forth on his heels in attempts to sooth his unsettled energy.

"Anything else?" You grinned.

"No thank you." He gently shook his head and walked over to the register as you put his cookie in a pastry bag.

"Okay but I'm giving you two cookies, because I think anyone who only gets one cookie is lying to themselves." You called out with a friendly smile, earning a chuckle from the man.

It allowed you to get a good look at his smile. He had pretty pink lips and perfect pearly whites.

Now, it was time for the investigative process you perfected to the tee. It usually started with an extra cookie and a big sparkling smile, followed by some friendly questions, and ending with a 'hope to see you again sometime soon'. You didn't mean to be invasive, really, you just needed to have all the answers when your neighbor, Georgia, asks for more information once you inevitably ask her if she knows anything about the new stunner in town.

"Well thank you, I appreciate that." He grinned, pulling the wallet out of his jeans.

"I don't think I've seen you around before, are you driving through?" You asked.

Steve shifted once more as he thought about how to answer this question. Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. His face had been plastered on every the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. If he was still in the 40's he was sure his face would take the place of the missing persons on the sides of milk cartons.

It had been just a few long months shy of a year , just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, it had calmed down enough for him to feel comfortable trying to settle down for as long as he safely could.

He finally found someone to rent him a house in a town quaint enough for his liking that was willing to accept under the table cash payments in rent, no proof of income, and didn't ask too many questions.

"I'm actually moving to Greenwood in the next couple days, I just picked up the keys to my new place. Saw the bakery sign and decided to stop by, figured a new start is grounds for a little celebrating." Steve explained, convincing enough.

All he could do was cross his fingers in hopes you didn't care about politics or the news enough to recognize his face.

"Really? What made you want to move here?"

He shrugged, and his lips stretched into a straight line. "Just wanted to go somewhere quiet and relaxing I guess. You know, the simple life."

"Well, most people here spend their days chasing something a bit more exciting and busy. I think you're in for exactly what you hoped for" You reassured him. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't catch your name?"

The pet name that seemed to run off your tongue without a second thought felt warm and welcoming to him. In the big city, a sentiment like that was a title that was typically earned, but here it was given with almost an immediate understanding that everyone around was inherently good and trustworthy. He almost didn't want to tell you his name so he could keep hearing the word slip passed your lips.

"Oh, sorry!" He apologized. "I'm Steven."

Steven? Really? Already off to a bad start. He told himself when he settled down for a bit he'd be distant to the people around him. Never get too close, never tell the truth, go by an alias. But for some reason, he just couldn't get himself to lie to you. You just seemed too sweet for that.

As he took another look around his new surroundings, he chalked it up to be the homey atmosphere of the bakery. The walls were covered in tasteful art installations, celebrating the very pastries that were being perfectly displayed in the illuminated case. Although the color schemes of earth tones, contrasting yet complementary wood colors and grains, and mixed metals seemed like it wouldn't work for a bakery, it worked for this bakery. It was warm and inviting; the polished concrete floors reminded him of the home he once knew. The wall-full of jarred sprinkles in all sorts of different blends and colors to match with the bakery and playfully pull the interests of customers eyes made him feel a sense of child like wonder again.

The booths were built into cozy corners, there were lounge areas with low to the floor tables with alternate seating, a tasteful shelf full of board games for families and friends alike to play together while enjoying a coffee and a treat.

It smelled like browning butter and vanilla beans. There were throw pillows on the booths and lounges. On the main wall behind the bake case and above the beautiful espresso machines read the name of the shop, 'Nice to be kneaded' in a warm golden neon glow.

Steven it is.

"Well, Steven," You handed him the bag of cookies, he hesitated to take them from you. "Everyone who decides to make a home out of Greenwood deserves a warm welcome. Here's to a quiet and relaxing new start."

"Thanks I appreciate it" He smiled. "How much for the cooki-"

"They're on me today" You insisted.

"I couldn't possibly do that" he declined the offer. He was used to the generous hand outs as Steve Rogers, but never just as Steven. "Please let me pa-"

"Nope." You stepped back from the register. "Take them and go before I force you to take a third one!"

"So threatening!" He smiled and put his hands up in defense. "Thank you so much"

"Of course, have a good day! Hope to see you again soon." You waved, walking back into the kitchen to finish off the cake that was almost near perfect.

"Have a good one"

After finishing up the cake, you tagged the board with the invoice of the correct customer, then walked it back into the front to the cake display fridge to pop it in so it would be perfect and ready for pickup later that day.

You started tidying up the lobby of the store by re-organizing all of your retail items. Cute candy bars, greeting cards made by local artists, birthday candles, and the wall shelves full of sprinkles. You had a knack for making sure your store looked perfect and pristine at all times. It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get to where you were now, so you'd be damned if you let it be anything less than perfect.

You tidied up the bake case one last time and straightened up the register before the tip jar caught your eye, inside of it was a crisp $20 bill that definitely wasn't there before Steven.

Though there were a few customers in the store, all of them were students looking for a calm place to study. Headphones over their ears, their noses dug into their laptops. None of them had even moved in the last twenty minutes.

The smile and eye roll that took over your face was almost invasive, and you instantly knew the polite man would have no issue fitting in here in Greenwood.

Though you let your precious employees keep their well earned tip, you did take a $20 bill out from your own wallet and vowed to keep it with you every day until you hopefully found Steven again.

Just like every other day, you stayed at work until it was far too late before locking up and going home. You didn't even get passed your open car door in the driveway before your beloved neighbor Georgia was exiting her front door and running out of her house to greet you.

"It's about damn time, sweet cheeks, I was near ready to file a missing persons report!" She enthused.

Georgia never failed to be your best friend, gossip buddy, and the honorary mother you always wished you had. She'd send her husband to bed alone all night just to stay up and make sure you got home okay if she knew you were out late.

"Sorry" you giggled, grabbing the box of pastries you brought home with you and handing them to her. "Busy day! Treats for your troubles?"

She happily took the box from you knowing that whenever she was given one, there was always something mind-meltingly delicious on the inside. "You know Michael and I have put on a good five pounds in the last few months, and I fully blame you for it."

"Hey! I know you love a big boy, I'm doing you nothing but favors." You denied the blame. "Plus, you're pretty as a peach. A sweet thing like you deserves a sweet treat at least once a day."

"I ran over here to tell ya, we're hosting game night for the block on Saturday. If you don't come I'm going to keep rescheduling it until you do." She insisted.

"Saturday sounds lovely." You accepted the invitation. "What can I bring?"

"Just your pretty face"

"Okay, I'll bring salted caramel bars" You smiled.

"Bring a date" Georgia insisted.

"Now now, watch yourself..." You scolded, pointing your finger at her.

"You've been living in this beautiful house all by your lonesome for three years now. You know all I want is for you to be happy"

"I'm happy all on my own." You insisted with a smile you really had to force yourself to smear across your face. "I don't need a man to make me happy, I've got everything I need."

"You've got no one to prove that to but yourself, sweet cheeks." Georgia reached out and pinched your cheek between her fingers lovingly once she saw how deflated you became..

"Believe it or not, it's kind've hard to find someone worth your time in greenwood when your only options are guys you've already tried your hand at" You defended yourself.

"And what's wrong with that?" Georgia sassed.

"All the good ones are married, and all the bad ones are still bad. So if you don't mind, I'll be bringing some salted caramel bars on Saturday." You smiled.

"I haven't given up hope, and you shouldn't either!"

"Who said anything about giving up hope?" You furrowed your brows together and cocked your head to the side.

"...you have a good night now darlin'" Georgia smiled with a slight chuckle before waving and starting to walk away.

"Mmmmhmmm" You sassed. "Enjoy those pastries."

"I always do!"

The moment you walked into your humble abode, you could feel the weight of your day fall off your shoulders. Even more so as you put down your bag, kicked off your shoes, and dragged your feet up the stars with a heavy thunk on each step just to get yourself into the warm shower you had been dreaming of since waking up at 3:30am. 

Just like a responsible adult, you cooked and fed yourself dinner then ate it on the couch with a thick faux fur blanket over your lap while watching The Great British Baking Show. Georgia liked to yell at you when she invasively yet also somehow welcomely showed up at your house with no warning and caught you using your time away from baking to, well, watch a show about baking?

Your defense was that their recipes are just so different over there! The difference in American and British flavor palettes was immense, and you loved getting new ideas for fun new pastries and flavors to implement onto the rotating menu.

After scolding you, you'd point to the Television above your fireplace to show her how they were doing a technical challenge to bake the perfect Victoria sponge cake, a quintessential and uniquely british dessert, and how that was so much different than your typical vanilla sponge in the States. Then, it would peak her interest.

You were never really sure if she was actually interested, or if she only payed attention because she desperately thought you needed someone to listen to you. Sometimes when you babbled on about baking, she would slow blink at your before gently saying, "Baby, you might as well be speaking a whole other language to me right now, but I'm just so happy you're doing what you love."

She'd get comfortable on your couch as you made her a cup of tea, the end up staying until her husband Michael called and reminded her that she had a husband at home.

But tonight you were happy to just be shoving some pesto pasta in your face with the company of no one but Netflix in complete peace. The small sensation of an almost distant ache in the back of your head also had you thankful that they had finally either finished, or were taking a break from construction on the little house next door to yours.

You didn't mind it much at first, you were gone for most of the day to miss the sounds of sawing and jackhammering, but sometimes the sounds would continue even after sunset and keep you awake past your geriatric bedtime. Sleep was very important when you had to wake up before the sun.

But your mama raised you to love thy neighbor and keep patience and grace close to your heart, so you bit your tongue for five long months and occasionally showered the construction workers in warm breakfast sandwiches and croissants. You hoped that their awareness to the neighbors occupation would keep them from working late into the night, but nope. You just continued biting your tongue a little harder.

Even worse than you was Andy and Phoebe that lived two doors down, the construction happened sandwiched between you two, and they had their new born baby girl at home through all of that banging and drilling. Apparently little Willow could now sleep through anything. Their dog barking at the sound of a door bell wasn't even an equal contender against the baby who had been subconsciously trained to stay calm in the midst of chaos.

You were in bed by 7 pm, up at 3am, back at work by 4am with $20 in your back pocket. A little part of you felt stupid while slipping the green bill into your denim jeans, it was quite delusional to assume the man would be back so soon, let alone at all, but a bigger part of you couldn't stand that his free cookies were not free.

The empty bake case was filled to the brim by 6:30am, all custom orders were done by 7. You barely even got a chance to wipe the sweat off your hairline from your face being in front of the oven before taking off your chefs coat and hair net and switching it to a front-of-house apron.

You had an excellent team of trained bakers, decorators, baristas, and a cashier, but that didn't stop you from getting your hands dirty by any means. Though your team was mighty, collectively you were tiny. Only 9 employees to hold the busiest bakery in the greater area down, you tended to step in wherever you were needed the most.

Today, you just happened to be taking orders and handing out latte's through morning rush before dedicating the rest of your day on getting a head start on custom orders for tomorrow.

Then tomorrow came around and all you did was start the dough for a few loaves of sourdough, your girls were going to take over after the first rise so you could focus on the payroll and product order placement that would be delivered on Friday. You got done all the boring stuff, responded to customer emails, printed out the invoices of all the orders through Friday, sorted through and organized the endless amounts of cookie cutters in the kitchen, then cleaned out the fridge to make sure all the ingredients were properly labeled and within date.

You worked one more day after that before having your first day off in 10 days. Yes, you made your own schedule. Yes, you worked far too much. No, that's not your fault.

You started by going on a short run, and taking a shower before going to the little diner 10 minutes down the road with Georgia for breakfast. The summer heat made your thighs stick to the leather booth beneath you, and the ceiling fans gently moved your hair around but you didn't seem to mind much. How could anything be a bother to your while you we're sneakily stealing a forkful of pancakes from your Neighbor's plate as her eyes were stuck on the news that was playing on an old TV in the upper corner of the diner.

You smiled as she peeled her eyes away just to glare at you while you stuck the syrupy goodness in your mouth. A bit of sticky maple caught on your lip, threatening to drip down your chin before you even got a chance to lick it off.

"Child, you are a mess." She shook her head at you and handed you a napkin. "How are they?"

"Heavenly." You giggled, wiping away the warm syrup on your face. "Hey, is it okay if I have a bite?" You questioned after stealing her food.

"You're like the child I never wanted." She insulted in good fun. Her being in her mid-fifties and you being late twenties- early thirty something, she loved to tease you because she knew you could take it in good fun. "See what you could've had if you didn't order... whatever that is?"

"An omelette?" You giggled. "I was in it for the side of hash-browns."

"Mmmm" Georgia tried to stay engaged, but her eyes kept wandering back to the news on the television.

You quickly looked up at the TV facing you in the opposite corner to the one she had her eyes on, but all you saw was pictures of Black Widow. She was beautiful, you always were jealous of her stunning fiery red hair and strength. You didn't pay much attention to why the bottom banner across the screen said 'Breaking News: Emergency Broadcast". Nothing Natasha Romanoff could've done was more important to the crispy shredded potatoes in front of you.

You didn't know much about the Civil War besides the basics. Most of what you knew came from Georgia and Michael. Politics was never your strong suit, you're pretty sure you almost failed government class back in high school. However, politics was something Michael was very... passionate about.

His political opinions were strong, and he wasn't shy to let you know about them. Whenever you were over at their house for dinner and the topic came up, you tended to just let him get it all out while you soaked it in and ate silently.

Though you didn't have an extensive knowledge on economics or how congressional issues worked, you did know how you felt about social issues. Most of the time; your opinions did not match up with Michael. And most of the time Georgia soaked in and inherited all of Michael's political stances.

Only a few times did you seek out information on the bombing of the United Nations meeting and the sokovia accords by your own means. Mostly because you felt like the information you were getting from Michael was probably influenced by his own stance on the matter. But from what you gathered, it was a complex issue you couldn't even begin to put your nose in. Especially since they were all superheroes arguing over what was the correct thing to do.

You grew up very much in the mindset of not judging people until you've walked a mile in their shoes, and walking in their shoes was impossible. Especially superhero shoes with jet blasters and and steel toes.

So as Georgia stated, "Miss Romanoff had so much potential, why she wasted it on protecting a brain washed assassin I will never understand." you stole another bite of her pancakes and shoved them into your mouth.

In turn, she stole some of your hash-browns and looked at you, waiting for feedback on her remark. "What did she do now?" You asked.

"She was found on American soil. The secretary tried detaining her considering she's a fugitive but she slipped passed his fingers." Georgia explained. "They're asking for tips trying to find her again."

You nodded your head in understanding of the urgency in the news broadcast, but you didn't exactly feel like having a passionate discussion about morals in the middle of a notoriously conservative small down.

"I guess I just don't understand why the government is treating Captain America's friends as criminals when they've all done so much to protect us... Aren't they just trying to do the right thing?" You questioned carefully as to not start an argument.

"Sweetheart it's not about what they used to do for us, it's about what they've done recently. They broke the law, destroyed public and private property, and broke out of the highest security prison in the world all because they didn't want to be controlled by the United Nations." Georgia explained.

"...but the issue was that they didn't want to be controlled, it was that they wanted to come up with a different solution because lives would be lost while waiting for the whole United Nations to decide what business they could stick their noses in, right?" You framed your opinion as a question once more as to appease any potential anger.

"Captain America and his whole team of friends became war criminals the moment they turned their backs on the government. It's really that simple." She insisted.

You looked back up to the TV to see the pictures of Captain America, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, the Falcon, the Winter Soldier, Ant-Man, and Hawkeye all looking back at you. The atmosphere between you and Georgia had gone quiet allowing you to hear the broadcasters voice.

'... if you see any of these individuals, do not approach. They are dangerous. Call 911. Remember, failure to report these individuals will be considered a misdemeanor punishable by jail time and a hefty fine. Do not approach.'

You observed the picture of the winter soldier in much more detail than the others, then your eyes grazed over Captain America.

One more big mouthful of your breakfast before an invasive thought overtook your brain and caused you to laugh out loud.

"What's got you laughing over there?" Georgia smiled at your antics.

"The winter soldier is so handsome, I think I'd become a war criminal trying to defend him too." You spat out between invasive laughter causing Georgia to laugh along with you no matter how hard she tried to contain it.

"I outta wash your mouth out with soap!" She laughed.

"Hey! No potty mouth here, just speaking the truth"

"This is why you need a boyfriend!" She smiled, pointing her pancake filled fork at you. "And a good one at that! I don't need to be seeing my baby girl all up in the news one day with the word 'wanted' written in bold red letters across her face."

"Hey, I've actually been meaning to ask you!" You started between bites. "A handsome fella came into the shop a few days ago. Said he was moving to greenwood in a few days, d'ya know anything about that?"

"What'd he look like, darlin'?" She questioned further. "I saw a stunner meet up with the owner of the house next door to yours while I was watering my peonies earlier this week. Watched him leave with a key in hand."

"He was tall, but I didn't get to see much to his face. It was blocked by a cap. I think his hair was dirty blonde from what I could see. He had really nice jeans on-"

"Full beard?" She asked.

"The most luscious and well groomed beard I've ever seen in this part of town." You confirmed with a giggle.

"I damn near blushed when I saw him from across the way! I bet he's moving in to that house then!" She enthused with a big smile. "Maybe this will be your escape from the Greenwood boys!"

"Are you kidding me? A man like that always comes a long with a wife and way too many children." You giggled.

"I bet that boy would make some beautiful babies" She kicked your leg underneath the table. "As would you."

"Not anytime soon" You shook your head with a blush in your cheeks.

"You know pregnancies over the age of 35 are considered geriatric?" She said backhandedly.

"Then consider me the oldest grandma in the nursing home." You denied once more

"I didn't see no ring on that man's finger, so he's single until proven married." Georgia smiled. "What did he get at the bakery?"

"One chocolate chip cookie" You hid your grin behind your hand holding your fork.

She raised her eyebrows mid pancake bite, chewing before speaking again as to not be impolite, but you already knew what she was thinking. "A married man would never get a cookie for just himself and not his wife. He's definitely single."

"Well he did say he drove into town for the key, so maybe he ate it before she even knew he had a cookie in the first place. Plus, I gave him two. You know how I feel about people who get one cookie..."

"So he's either single or the worst husband a girl could have. If Michael ever skipped out on getting me a cookie I'd divorce his ass on the spot." She shook her head.

"Why would you ever need Michael to bring you cookies when you have me, anyways?" You questioned, faking jealousy.

"Baby doll you're all I need" She smiled and reached over to squeeze your hand.

"That's more like it." You laughed.

Georgia smoothed over the pain of not being the only cookie provider in her life by paying the breakfast bill, even after you fought her over it for ten whole minutes because you invited her out to breakfast so you could treat her.

And when you two got home, you both immediately noticed all the construction on the house next to yours had been completely cleared out and it looked brand spankin' new.

What once was an older home with lots of rustic character looked more like all the surrounding houses with updated paint, new landscaping, fresh new features. It looked great without all of the dust and equipment blocking the view.

It was officially a home ready to be moved into, and any moment now you would have confirmation if your new neighbor was the same man you desperately owed $20.

Next Part: Inhale, Exhale

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean

If you’d like to be added to the tag list for this series, don’t be shy to ask 🤍🧁

#steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america fluff #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans #steve rogers fanfiction #mcu x reader #chris evans fluff #nomad steve #nomad steve rogers #civil war #infinity war #baker #bakery #Rogersideup #Nice to be Kneaded #Bucky Barnes #marvel #marvel fan fiction #steve rogers smut #Captain America smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers headcanon #steve Rogers x you #captain america x you #captain america series #steve rogers series #Sam Wilson

[cevansbaby-dove]

The Best Birthday Gift part 2

Pairing:Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Nothing but hurt and a touch of fluff.

You woke up the next morning to steve's arm draped over your stomach. You smile as you watch him sleep.

You lean over and kiss his cheek then climb out of bed and your legs are like jelly so you land on your butt. thud!

Steve sits up fast. "Who's there!?" He looks around you and hold your hand up. "It's just me..sorry" You push yourself up and sit on the bed. "You did a number on me Cap"

Steve moves over to you. "here I got ya"

You place your hand on his shoulder as you stand and he grabs your hips so you don't fall. "Good morning baby"

You smile. "hi handsome man" He kisses you and says. "So um..will we get questions about this?"

You smile. "Maybe but if they ask us anything we just say I fell asleep in your bed..."

Steve helps you to your room down the hall and he says. "We could be more then a one time thing if you want...I mean..uh..i'm down for it"

You turn and lean on the door frame. "I'll think about it Rogers, thanks again for last night"

He kisses you and says. "See you down there" You close your eyes feeling his beard lightly touch your cheek.

"yes sir" He smiles and walks away. You sigh and walk into your bed room and grab shorts and a shirt and put it on and you take your pill and walk down to the kitchen and Steve is talking to Tony. "Well how was your birthday y/n?" You hear tony ask you as you walk in with a slight smile.

"Good" You grab a cup and Steve is next to you and he whispers in your ear. "I still remember how your mouth tastes"

Tony look up from his newspaper. "What was that?" You turn around. 'Nothing um..the coffee doesn't taste good to Steve"

You smack his arm lightly then he says. "ok ok sorry" He hears Nat and Wanda walk into the kitchen.

"Morning ladies" Nat hugs you. "ugh we are the worst friends ever! I am so so sorry we couldn't be there yesterday"

You smile as you hug her than Wanda. "it's alright girls we will make time in a few days for our day out"

Steve coughs lightly making you look at him with a smirk. "Come on girls we should hang out"

Tony says. 'She and Rogers came in soaked last night they were out in the storm, thank God my rug is clean now"

Nat looks at Steve. "Oh God are you two sick now?" You shake your head. "No we're fine nat" You grab the girls hands and walk away before Steve can say anything.

Steve sighs watching you walk away. Tony says. "What's up Cap?" Steve shakes his head. "Nothing Tony" He takes a sip of his coffee then says. "can I ask you something?"

"Sure man, what's up?" Tony sits at the counter. Steve leans on the counter. "It's about y/n" Tony sighs. "You two fucked didn't you?" Steve's eyes go wide. "Language Tony!"

"well? Didn't you? You know the walls aren't thin..." Steve feels his cheeks go red even under his beard he still blushes. "Well uh...we uh.." he rubs his neck feeling awkward. "yes..."

Tony smiles. "About damn time You found her that way!" Steve blinks. "What?" "She's been super flirty with you and you always looked past that...I'm happy for you Rogers"

You and The girls sit on your bed and Nat says. "So what did you two do?" You smile. "um well we went out for a nice dinner then we went bowling and girls he needs help learning! he thought hitting one pin was a strike! and I won the bowling"

You laugh. "Um then we came back and I wanted to stay in the storm and he asked me to dance with him..."

Wanda says. "In the rain!?" Nat says. "Oh my God that's sweet!!" You giggle. 'yes um then he uh kissed me and the end!"

Nat gives you a questioning look. 'THE END!? Just one kiss and that's it? Y/N...are you hiding something from us?"

You shake your head. "No...I mean uh...I don't um.." Wanda says. "She is hiding something! Come tell us girl!" You laugh. "We had sex?"

Wanda and nat's jaws drop and you say. "it's only one time we are still friends...."

Wanda says. "friends!? how the fuck are you friends after you two...you two...fucked!?"

Nat says. "Friends....with benefits! Oh my God it's about time someone had him rail someone!"

You say. "Sh! tony doesn't know about it..please do not tell him"

Wanda says. "Oh yeah no we won't tell him right Nat?" Nat glances at Wanda smirking. "Won't tell him" You look at them and say. "You two suck at lying"

Nat says. "And you suck at keeping secrets" You smile. "Well..I wasn't sure if Steve wanted to have it out about last night..but I can't lie to my girlssss" You pull them in for a hug and giggle.

Steve hears you girls walk out of the room and your eyes meet and you send him a warm smile and Tony turns in his chair and says. "Oh hello y/n Steve tells me how great your birthday was"

You look at Steve and say. "Um..excuse me?" Tony pours himself a drink and nods. "Hmm hm the walls aren't thin" You feel your face turn red and Wanda says. "Damn I thought we only knew about you two...wow"

Steve says. "ok ok back off all of you please. This was just a one time thing it's not going to happen again." he walks to you."Right?"

You stood there frozen, you loved him but then again the words that just came out of steve's mouth didn't make it sound like he felt the same about you...You bite your lip holding back tears and say. "ri...right it's nothing"

Nat says. "Rogers! why the fuck would you say something like that?" You shake your head and walk out of the kitchen. "What did I say?' Steve said.

Nat sighs. "you just hurt her feelings saying it's nothing..damn man learn us girls! we don't do that just out of lust!"

She storms away and you hear her say behind you. "Sorry about him" You wipe away tears and say. "he's right...it's nothing big..it's just a hook up...nothing more"

Nat sighs. "y/n I can tell when someone is in love and you really do love him don't you?" You nod then face her. "but clearly he doesn't feel the same way"

You scoff. "Just let me be alone" Nat places her hand on your shoulder. "i'm here if you ever need" You nod. "Thanks but I want to be alone" She nods and walks away.

You walk into the training room and grab a gun and think maybe staying sharp will take your mind off of last night..

Bang Goes the gun. Steve's lust filled eyes flash into your mind. You press your lips together loading the gun again. Bang!

You remember how he kissed your neck. You roll your eyes. "Y/n get it together!" you said out loud.

Steve's eyes were on you and you didn't have to turn around to know that. "Come here to say how what we did last night didn't mean anything to you?" You shot another round.

Steve shakes his head. "I'm sorry I didn't think you felt that way about me" You set the gun down and turn to face him.

"Your right Steve...I guess you fucked me just to feel something uh? well don't worry it won't happen again"

You turn to walk away from him when he lightly grabs you arm.

Your eyes meet his and he says."Y/n last night was incredible but it can't happen again, we can't... it was a mistake to do that"

You say. "a mistake!? Oh I'm sorry if I fucked up your night by being nice to you! jesus Christ fine you know what!? I'm done...I am so done being nice to you now let go of me before I hurt you"

Steve drops his hand. You then say. "Stay away from me from now on!" You walk out and tell Tony, "i'm going out I can't stand it here!" You grab your car keys and Tony says. "Lovers fighting?" You turn. "we aren't lovers tony! Steve said it himself its was a mistake"

You slam the door and get into your car and drive away fast.

Last that day Steve gets a call from someone.

"hello?'

"is this Steve Rogers?"

"yes who is this?"

"My name is Kathy um someone here got into a crash and said to call you her name is y/n...do you know her?" Steve grabs his car keys and rushes out of the tower. "Is she ok?"

"Yes she was t-boned by a drunk but she's on her way to the ER" Steve gets into his car and says. "i'm on my way now thank you" the lady says. "you're welcome"

Steve drives away at a fast speed and lets the team know what happened and Nat says. "We're on our way too oh God did the lady say if y/n was hurt badly??"

"She didn't say God I hope she's ok" Steve runs a red light and then gets to the ER 20 minutes later. He rushes through the sliding doors and looks around. No sign of you anywhere.

Steve walks to the front desk and asks about you and if you were brought in yet. "Yes she is in the ICU she has a few broken ribs and major head trauma."

Steve takes off for the ICU he was now panicking that you might not make it.

Steve walks through doors and then sees the word ICU in a big letters. He makes a mad dash to the doors and sees a Doctor. "Hi um I'm looking for y/n l/n, she was in a car accident."

The doctor nods. "She's in surgery right now she had to be rushed in" Steve's eyes fill up with tears God he was beyond worried about you now.

Steve sits down in the waiting room hoping and praying you'd pull through this.

A/n:Oh no! Reader is in the ICU!! 😱 What will happen next!? Give me your guesses in the comments below :)

Tags:@cutedisneygrl @nicoline1998enilocin @patzammit @armystay89 @bookishtheaterlover7 @eva-knits12 @katherineswritingsblog

#nomad steve #steve au #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve x reader #steven grant rogers #chris evans fluff #chris evans character #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans headcanon #chris evans characters #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans one shot #chris evans series #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n

[lilacevans]

hngggggg— that’s all i’m saying

#cevans #chris evans #cevansedit #chrisevansedit #steve rogers #nomad steve #infinity war #lila’s gifs #lila’s steve gifs #nomad steve is MY daddy #you can’t have him😤😤😤😤😤😤

[megamindsecretlair]

Megamind's Secret Files

Formally posted on MegamindsLair.

All fics are Black/Fem coded. All fics are consensual.

Rules and Navigation:

Welcome! Thank you so much for being interested in my blog! I want to make this a safe space for everyone. Please heed all warnings on all my posts. Consider changing your icon and header to prove you're human. Add ages so I can be sure minors are not interacting with my blog.

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Requests are tentatively open but please know that I have a hectic home life, a squirrel brain, and multiple issues that prevent me from getting to requests quickly. If you submit a request, I have the right to refuse, deny, or take my time to let the story marinate before writing it. I am not a machine. Please be patient with me.

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The Secret Loki Files

The Secret Bucky Files

The Secret Nomad Steve Files

The Secret Sam Wilson Files

WARNING: multiple uses of the n-word. Coded for Tyrone/Los Angeles

The Secret Tyrone Files

The Secret Isaac Files

WARNING: multiple uses of the n-word

The Secret Franklin Saint Files

The Secret Kane Files

Warning - can turn dark but always consensual. When not stated otherwise, Ghostface is usually anonymous and coded Black.

The Secret Ghostface Files

The Secret King Ghezo Files

The Secret Tre Files

The Secret Javier Pena Files

The Secret Big Stunna Files

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The Secret Lamont Files

The Secret David Kane Files

The Secret Jatemme Files

No Big Deal Original Writing

Thank you so much for being interested. Happy reading!

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#masterlist #my writing #fanfic writing #fanfic writer #fic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #Black reader #Black writers #Black fanfic writer #Black fanfiction #marvel #marvel smut #megamindssecretfiles #Loki #Nomad Steve #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #they cloned tyrone fics #Franklin Saint #Snowfall fanfic #Snowfall #Ghostface #Ghostfast smut #Ghostfast fan fic #Ghostface fanfic #King Ghezo #King Ghezo fan fic #The Woman King fanfic #The Woman King fan fiction

[esotericgalaxy]

Damn baby come break this pelvis 🥴

#ari levinson #damn that man is fine #chris evans #red sea diving resort #nomad steve #he thick #steve rogers #Chris #evans #chris evans fandom #hot as hell #captain america #netflix #goddamn

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (2)

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

Sweet Baby (see previous or series)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grant seems hesitant to accept or argue.

You press on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks so tired.

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

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

His eyes shut.

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

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

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

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

Somewhere around his throat, the man sniffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can, however, still tease him.

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

Steve groans.

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

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

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

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

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

“I should let Tom know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to go…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s nothing wrong.

He can feel good.

He should feel good.

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

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

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

Steve whimpers and juts his pelvis forward.

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

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

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

“Whatever you need…it’s okay.”

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

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

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

But it’s too late.

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

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

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

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

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

So that was okay, and this is okay.

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

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

“Thank you for the…the bath.”

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

“I’m glad you feel better, Grant.”

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

[Next Part: Sensitive Boy, Part I]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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

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

[whore-for-chris-evans]

Not enough people are talking about him and it's a downright tragedy.

Anyways if anybody else is willing to obsess over him with me and maybe draw some wild assumptions about his backstory and write headcanons for the fandom please feel free to speak now.

#steve rogers #what if #what if season 2 #what if s2 #nomad steve #nomad steve rogers #nomad #captain america #marvel #HYPE HIM UP MORE #THIS IS A THREAT #🤺🤺🤺

[ramp-it-up]

The Sweetest Nectar

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader. Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Steve is pining for you and the fact that you are Sam’s girl doesn’t mean a thing.

Word Count: 1K.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT, 

Warnings: Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Soft Dark Subby Nomad Steve Rogers. Darkish reader. Mention of pre-serum Steve, Lap dance in public, voyeurism, masturbation, mention of drugs and alcohol, pining, angst, teasing, exhibitionism (on reader’s part), possible non con exhibitionism (on Sam’s part). Oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), sloppy seconds, possible cheating. All errors my own.

A/N: Thanks for this ask! It streched me.

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You were giving your boyfriend a lap dance on Steve’s couch, and it made the host irrationally happy. 

Steve was glad that Sam had someone, especially someone as sweet as you. Damn, you were probably so fucking sweet.

Steve licked his lips as he watched your hips undulate in front of Sam’s face. This was the perfect opportunity to watch you and ogle your body, because everyone was a little tipsy and a little high and doing it too. 

It was all in fun, right?

You glanced at Steve upside down as you gyrated on Sam’s lap now, and bent backward all the way over, your braids touching the floor, giving the room a view of your luscious tits. 

Yeah. You were perfect. And this night was the highlight since Steve came out of the ice.

You winked at Steve and his face grew red, but he played it off by taking another drink and rubbing his beard while flipping his long hair out of his face.

It worked on countless other women, but you just sat back up and pulled Sam’s face into the valley of your breasts, gasping as he motorboated your clothed breasts and grabbed the glorious globes of your blue-jeaned ass. 

People laughed, but Steve’s mood changed; he started plotting dismemberment and where to scatter body parts when Bucky came up to stand beside him and watch.

“Hold it up a little higher, buddy.”

Steve didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he took another drink and replied.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“That torch you’re carrying. Maybe she’ll see it if you hold it up higher, Lady Liberty.”

Steve just scoffed and drank some more, not denying anything that Bucky had said.

Bucky laughed and went to get another beer, as Steve practically cried in his, his heart silently aching for you.

—-

You and Sam were in Steve’s bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that everyone else was doing body shots in the kitchen.

“F-f-fuckkkkk! Samuel T-t-t-hom… fuck, Samuel Thomas W-w-wilsonnnnn.”

You were grabbing Sam’s ears as he skillfully ate you out, looking down on him between your legs as he sucked and pulled and played with your clit.

“Fucky, Baby… where did you learn to do … goddamn…”

You panted to try and catch your breath as he inserted three fingers inside you and spread them out.

“Holyyyyyy Shhhhhhh!!!!!!!!” 

You came like a freight train, your knees clamping down around Sam’s head. Sam’s large hands pried you from around his face and came up for air, a triumphant smirk on his face. He held your legs open and gazed at the pretty dark, wet lips of your cunt and the creamy liquid oozing out between them.

“Learning new techniques every day. Just to keep you satisfied, darlin’,”

Sam shook his head and watched as your pretty pussy lips sheltered your still quivering folds.

“It’s a beautiful view.”

Steve silently agreed from the closet, watching your beautiful cunt shine in the dim light from the street. He had his hand wrapped around his cock, fisting himself brutally at the sights, sounds, and faint smell of you. Steve silently willed Sam to action, wanting to hear how that wet pussy sounded when it was fucked good. 

It was just like before the war, when he watched Bucky…

“Hmmmm, Daddy. Give me some. Please? Pretty please. Will you give me some of that thick dick?”

You leaned back, legs still open, looking up at Sam, who was standing now, in front of you.

Your face, fucked out and glowing, looked up at his friend as you licked your lips was everything in the world to Steve Rogers right now.

Steve imagined it was him you were begging, and he didn’t know if he wanted you to suck Sam off or let him fuck you senseless. He just knew that wanted to bust this nut.

“Assume the fucking position then.”

You whimpered, and Steve nearly bust in his hand.

“Yes, Daddy.” 

You got on all fours on the bed and that view was even better than before. Oh, how he’d eat that ass, Steve thought.

Sam smacked both cheeks three times, and your moans and sighs alone were enough to make Steve cum. He watched his friend line up his thick dick and swipe it through your folds, and could almost feel your beautiful wetness. Stevehad to bite his lips to hold in his own grunts as Sam slowly, wetly, and solidly sank into you. 

“Ohhhhhh… shit….DADDY!!!”

“Fuuuuuccccckkkkkk!”

Sam’s head lolled back on his shoulders as he bottomed out and Steve’s eyes practically rolled back in his head as he witnessed the ecstasy. 

Then, Sam looked down and smacked your ass again. Steve watched, rapt, as Sam slowly pulled almost all the way out, then plunged quickly back into your wet goodness. He bet you were so warm. Sam did it again and again and again, faster and faster, and faster. Steve stroked in time as you moaned louder and louder and louder, oblivious to the others at the party.

Steve watched your back arch, and your flesh shake and ripple with every back shot delivered. He was so fucking close.

“Daddy? Daddy? Please Daddy.. I wanna, I wanna….I neeeeeed to…”

“Cum, Darlin’... give it to me. Fuck yeah!”

Sam’s voice was a growl and as you started shaking, Steve’s cum started spilling into his palm and the sock that he was using to contain it.

“Shhsshhhhittttttt….” Steve’s whisper was not silent, but quiet enough that you two wouldn’t hear it over your own noises.

You and Sam collapsed on the bed..

“That was great, Darlin’. You shouldn’t tease me like that in public. ‘S not gonna stop me from giving it to you.” 

Sam kissed your nose.

“I am well aware of what that does to a man. Makes it that much better, Daddy.”

Sam laughed, and then moved toward the bathroom.

“We better get outta here, before Steve catches us in his bedroom.”

You looked toward the bathroom and then sat up on the edge of the bed, legs open again.

Steve saw your wrecked pussy, the combination of you and Sam seeping out, and his cock swelled again. He nearly yelled when he saw you playing in it again. It was like you were doing it just for him.

But you stopped when Sam came back out to get dressed.

“I need a little more time to get cleaned up. You go ahead.”

“Ok Darlin,” Sam leaned over and kissed your forehead and you reached for a peck on the lips.

“You made me hungry, took all my energy. I’m going to go eat some food.” 

Sam winked and left the room smiling and happy.

When the door closed, you stared straight at the closet.

“Well? Are you going to stay in there and jack off again, or are you going to come out and clean me up?”

You leaned back on your hands, legs wide.

“Now’s your chance Steve. I know you’re in there. Are you going to come out Captain?”

Steve gulped. Then he couldn’t help but comply.

“Fuck…”

Steve emerged from the closet, the tip hard cock glistening and stiff at the opening of his undone pants. He walked toward you and dropped to his knees.

You threaded your hand in his hair, brushing it away from his forehead as he closed his eyes at your touch. You guided his head toward your throbbing cunt.

“You get sloppy seconds, but I bet that’s what you like…”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Steve nodded vigorously as his tongue collected the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.

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