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#reader x steve rogers

smolvenger · 7 months

Note

i know u have been feeling stressed and hopefully this might make u feel better but for a request steve rogers x reader and theyre on their honeymoon

Hi there nonny!!!

Awww, I love that! Steve is the sweetest cinnamon roll so of course we have to write it!!!! This is so sweet, I have to!!! I hope you like it and it's accurate enough, it's my first time writing for him!

No warnings, just tooth rotting fluff!

Honeymooning with America's Ass, Steve Rogers, would include...

Poor boy has never flown before so you have to arrange the details. Once you are packed up and ready to go, he is fascinated by a modern airport. You have to hold his hand so he doesn't get lose because he likes looking in all the shops and different restaurants!

You finally get in and he gets nervous when the plane takes off so you laugh and hug him. You go "darling...you fought Red Skull, but a plane going up makes you scared?!" teasingly and kiss his cheek.

It's a long flight so you show him how to watch movies and play games on the little device thingies that are on airplens and he stays awake the whole time playing on it.

So then you guys...spend the honeymoon in ITALY!!!!

You go around to see such tall, ancient buildings. Far more ancient than Mr. Brooklyn has ever dreamt. At one point, the tour guide calls this building young since it was built in 1673 and he just stares dumbfounded!

But Steve would pick up Italian quickly. He likes calling you Italian terms of endearment like "mia/o carino/a" or "mia/o angelo/a" to make you smile.

Of course, he has to start the day by cuddling you! Though he is too excited to get up and can only take so much cuddling- like an excited puppy!

He remembers enjoying Italian places in Brooklyn when his mom and he would go to celebrate something. So he loves trying Italian cuisine. Telling you stories about his mother- and about how much she would have loved you.

He always holds your gelato like a gentleman <3 As tempted as he is, he never takes a bite of yours, he wants his new spouse to enjoy them.

However, at one point, a pickpocket creeps by you and grabs your wallet. You let out a shout and gasp as he breaks into a run.

Boy did that asshole make a mistake considering your supersoldier hubby.

Steve just fucking BOOKS IT. The pickpocket turns around and gasps. He tries to run, but Steve gets closer to him in a few steps and decks the guy until he falls easily, kicking him until he's flying like a soccer ball through the air. He then grabs your wallet throws the pickpocket to the cobbled ground and returns your wallet.

You go to all sorts of incredible art museums. Steve himself loves to doodle and when you take sitting breaks, he tries to make little copies of them. You put his hand gently over his and lean into his cheek as he does, holding his free hand.

Of course, since a lot of Italian people tend to have darker hair, they make huge eyes at his blonde locks. Some even try to flirt with him, but he quickly pushes them aside to give you a hug or flash them the new wedding band, assuring you with small kisses. There are smiles and looks of jealousy- the incredibly handsome blonde man is your husband and yours alone, as you are his.

He talks to and befriends everyone. Old ladies in cathedrals praying and kissing their crucifix necklaces. Children running around streets and jumping sunburnt into the sea. Fellow tourists in wide hats and billowy shirts. Chefs of mom-and-pop shops with rosy cheeks and loud, boisterous voices and stories in every dish.

It only makes you love him more.

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softevnstan · 1 year

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pairing. college!steve rogers x gender neutral! reader

summary. your best friend, steve rogers, is a goody-two-shoes boy through and through. there's always been rumors, but you know steve. and you know the most he's ever been up for with a gal was a peck on the cheek. he always tells everyone he's waiting for the right partner. well, apparently steve wants to learn how to kiss and you have some experience. naturally, things get a little interesting.

warnings. no specific gendered terms here; things do get a little heated but there's no sex or gendered bits mentioned. this is relatively tame and idk what else that might need to be here. kissing, everyone featured is 18+. y/n and steve are slightly buzzed. steve's praise kink (if you squint).

a.n. ok so i was listening to kiss me the whole time and just... do it. please. it enhances the immersion. god why can't i be in an 80s college love story, i deserve it. i'll do a part 2 (where things get way more interesting if yknow what i mean) if you guys want, just let me know.

w.c. 2.7k holy cow

“Excuse me?” The words come choked out from your lips, disbelief washing over you at the request your best friend had just made.

“I’m just saying,” Steve presses on, a soft pink dusting the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red. “You, y’know– You have experience with this type of thing. Everyone just thinks I do.” The last piece comes mumbled from Steve, his head ducked sheepishly.

Even now, you’re still taken aback by the proposition. Sure, you know that Steve was just about as innocent as they come underneath. But you never would’ve imagined he’d be there, both of you in your dorm room, him asking you to teach him how to kiss.

You’d grown up with him, and knew each other like the back of your hands. There were countless times you helped cover for him - the first way you’d even properly met was at a middle school party and both of you had been locked away for seven minutes in heaven. You were ecstatic to potentially get your first kiss - maybe it was the countless grams of sugar in sodas that had you energetic or maybe it was just the natural excitement of a hormonal middle schooler.

But Steve had been scared. He’d been intimidated - poor little christian boy hadn’t had his first kiss yet and he didn’t want to waste it on some cheesy game. Not to mention Steve was already teased relentlessly for being such a small boy who didn’t have the best luck with girls (at the time, atleast - no one was ready for the way steve had buffed up towards the end of highschool; late bloomer, everyone decided when he’d finally grown into his bones and went from a boy to a young man).

‘Is it okay if we just say we did…?’ Steve had asked, sitting cross-legged in front of you on the bed of Susie, the girl you had geography with and whose parents were hosting the party. Her sheets were an ugly salmon with tacky pillows, and one of Steve’s nimble fingers was tracing one of the embroidered flowers in her covers.

Your disappointment was strong that night. The building bubble of anticipation had been abruptly popped right before you, and the mini-crush you’d had on Steve at the time withered knowing there wasn’t any sort of reciprocation. You'd had to physically stop yourself from letting your shoulders sag with the rejection.

‘Of course,’ you’d said with a smile, anyways. Steve was your best friend, after all. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, even if it did come at the expense of your feelings just a bit. Alas, you can’t make someone like you who doesn’t.

Being his friend was something you gladly seized the opportunity for - if you couldn’t be his partner, you could still be something to him.

‘Thanks… I really mean that. All of this stuff is so dumb anyways.’ Steve had tried to dismiss with a little awkward wave of his hand, and that feigned smile of yours bled into a genuine one. Hard to be upset with the guy when he was just so cute; Ocean eyes and soft pink lips that curled into a small smile, nimble fingers of an artist, freckles dusting his skin… You always saw Steve’s charm before anyone else ever had. Well, save for Bucky, his other partner in crime.

You’d both came out of Susie McCracken’s room, met by giggles and questions but Steve had just bitten his lips together and flushed while you’d lied for the both of them.

‘What did you guys do in there?? Did you actually kiss??’ Bucky had inquired all too excitedly. ‘What else do you do while playing seven minutes in heaven, Bucky??’ you’d asked in turn, not a direct lie technically.

Bucky had thrown an arm around Steve’s scrawny shoulders and dragged him in.

‘Way to go, Rogers!’

You’re drawn back to the present moment as Steve looks at you intensely with those baby blue eyes. Only then that you realize he was still waiting on your response. That gaze burning into you, studying you made your face feel even warmer. The little puppy tilt of his head is too endearing; pulling at your heart strings. The offer is something out of a dream - and while you fear it may potentially alter the relationship you have with Steve, you’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I don’t want to kiss someone for the first time and not be good,” Steve pleads his case, and it’s the childishness of the statement that breaks some of the tension inside of you - letting your shoulders slowly ease and you take an experimental swig from the can of beer that Steve had brought over per your request. “So do you think y’could teach me…?”

Steve, who was afraid of hardly anything, who picked fights with bullies and always tried to hold himself and maintain composure, now seemed so shy. It was endearing.

“Okay,” You say, with a click of your tongue. The reply shocks Steve; Causing him to jolt upright and straighten his back out.

“Really?” The word is breathless, and you grin - never pulling your gaze from Steve’s. Utilizing the moment of liquid courage to egg you through this. “Really. C’mere,” you scoot on your bed, opening up a spot for him to come sit with you.

You watch as Steve picks himself up from the armchair, crossing the distance to you and only wavering upon actually having to sit on your bed. He sits on the edge as though he’s afraid to take up space, and you give a soft laugh. He’s helpless. Steve’s ears burn hotter at your laughter, but he can’t help but smile a little himself.

“What?”

“Nothing, big guy. Now c’mon, turn and face me,” your hand pats his shoulder, before letting your touch linger just a moment. Defined muscle even through his shirt; You’re not surprised but certainly impressed. It’s just a brush, really, and if Steve notices, he doesn’t say anything when he turns to lift his leg onto the bed. Folding his knee and tucking it under himself comfortably, he rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs.

You lean in, knowing that Steve isn’t going to do it himself. “Just… Be still, okay?” you warn, still hardly in the belief that the moment itself was true. You were half waiting to hear this was some strange joke. “Uh-huh,” Steve breathes, a little bob of his head in a nod.

He swallows hard, and you tenderly lift your hand to cradle his cheek. Palm flush with his warm skin, and your palm must feel cool because Steve shudders out a stifled breath through his nose. Without further delay, you lean forward. Tilting your head upward enough to catch Steve’s lips in your own; Pressing tentatively at first.

Steve’s lips are… Soft. Pillowy. Which is surprising, because when eyeing him a few moments ago, you were worried he might need some chapstick. Eyes drooping closed, Steve gives a slightly audible gasp at first before kissing you back. Leaning into the touch, his hand lifts and hovers a moment before residing to cup the side of your neck. The brush of Steve’s calloused palm makes you hum, feeling the warmth that wraps around the side of your neck and simply holds. Thumbing at the slope of your jaw tenderly while Steve attempts to mimic the way your lips mold into his.

You both linger there far longer than you’ll ever admit. Only after a moment do you part ever so slightly to suck a shaky breath in through your barely parted lips. Steve seizes the moment of pause though to lean in and press you two right together again. This time you pepper his lips with soft, repetitive pecks. His lips are warm and soft; you’re able to taste your shared breath between one another as you both return for more. Steve wasn’t perfect right off the bat, you noticed. Pursing his lips too much at first, but with the insistent press, he slowly loosened up to kiss you more delicately.

Before you realize it, the hand of yours that was holding Steve’s cheek was sliding back into the short spikes of blond hair. Your blunt nails rubbed soothingly at his scalp, drawing a barely there groan from somewhere in Steve’s chest. The taste of beer was prominent on his breath but not uninviting.

Warmth filled your chest, butterflies swarming in your stomach when your lips kept meeting. Again and again. But rather than find yourself fully entranced with the moment like you’d prefer to be, you’re committed to the task at hand. Teaching Steve. So when you press your forehead to his and just barely part your mouths, you take the moment to breathe. Let some of the air come back to your head and ease the high of the experience.

“Your lips feel soft,” you utter airily, lips ghosting with Steve’s and curling into a delighted smile. “When you kiss someone, don’t rush it… You’re doing really good so far - don’t try to shove your tongue down anyone’s throat or anything, okay? Kissing is… a delicate art.”

That makes Steve snort, stamping a soft peck to your lips like he’s trying to get right back into the moment.

“Hey, hey,” you softly chime in, stubbornly pressing your foreheads together to keep Steve in place. Licking your lips, you chuckle. “Speeding into things ruins the fun, you don’t have anywhere else to be, y’know?”

Steve’s reply comes in a husky chuckle. “Note taken – what happens if I rush things…?” Steve doesn’t rush anything, he’s the king of waiting, actually, but you don’t tell him that. “Might spook someone a little… You don’t want someone thinking you’re just trying to get into their pants, after all.” “Oh gee, definitely not,” Steve agrees softly, seemingly sobering from the haze albeit slightly.

Your fingers mindlessly scrape along Steve’s scalp, nearly earning a purr from the man. Watching him through half-lidded eyes, you decide to try your luck.

“How do you feel about more than just a few little kisses…?” You timidly try; Not wanting to press and come across as pushy, but certainly not trying to waste an opportunity.

Looking at his face, you find his eyes are still closed. Long lashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, your stomach swoops and it feels like all of the childhood feelings you’d stuffed down years ago for Steve come bubbling to the surface. For a moment, it's as though the blond is in a daze before seemingly realizing he’d been asked a question.

Steve’s hand that isn’t cupping your neck, slowly and absentmindedly snakes to your side. Fingers brushing out over the fabric of your shirt, but still gentlemanly enough not to let his fingers go diving under to feel your skin. Even if it’s killing him not to in that moment.

“Well, I-” Steve’s throat sounds tight, “ I need to know all I can, so…” You give Steve a barely-there nod that leaves your noses rubbing together affectionately. “Okay.”

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, hoping that Steve won’t be able to tell just how much this moment means to you. You kiss him slowly and languidly, Steve’s lips parting slightly to allow your tongue to slip inside. It takes him off guard if the stuttering in his breath is anything to go off of, but Steve follows your lead nonetheless. It surprisingly doesn’t take Steve long to start to get the hang of it between the both of you; potentially the liquid courage flooding through both of you.

At some point, you lose track of the fact you’re even supposed to be teaching Steve something. Both of you scooted closer together, chests coming flush and narrowing the room between the two of you less and less. Your fingers card back through Steve’s hair, and the hand on Steve’s hip gives a testing pull. Taking the next step, you move to throw your leg over Steve’s thighs. Sliding right at home in his lap, his hands greedily coming to hug your sides and draw you in even closer against him. It certainly made kissing significantly easier, even in the few instances you’d both pull apart to swallow shallow breaths of air before kissing again.

You’d slept with guys before, though. Had a hook-up once or twice. With Steve, nothing felt nearly as rushed or hungry. It wasn’t like he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat; There was a gentleness to it all.

When settling in his lap, Steve took the moment to pull apart with a breathy chuckle. “Is this part of the lesson?” Steve rhetorically asks, and your answer comes with a playful roll of your eyes. “I thought it’d be easier,” you answer, feeling obvious. “...But if you’re not comfortable-” “I’m comfortable.” Steve interrupts before biting his kiss-swollen lips together.

You take that as the green light to continue, arms finding a comfortable home around Steve’s shoulders. Running up into his hair and cradling his cheek, you pull him right back down into another languid learning session. Only this time, you decide to actually give him a few pointers.

Trying not to acknowledge the idea of Steve kissing anyone else like how he’s kissing you (hey, at least you got his first), you kiss him breathlessly all over again. Soft tongue, slow and taking your time before retracting long enough to take a soft suck out of Steve’s bottom lip. “Don’t be afraid to tease someone, make them want to come back for more,” you purr against Steve’s mouth, taking a playful nip out of Steve’s lip. Steve on the other hand let a groaning drawl out of him, fingers tightening where they hold your side and coasting down towards your waist.

Steve doesn’t question - instead takes the pointer as a challenge. Drawn back in for another kiss, he decides to give you a taste of your own medicine and you’re not ready for it. The tease of Steve’s tongue on your lips, him kissing you deep and molding the both of you together just to pull apart right when it feels like things are too good to be true. Taking your bottom lip between his teeth barely, he gives a soft bite before a soothing little lick. He’s getting the hang of it with his mouth and you’re floating on cloud nine; Squeaking out a noise that you’d deny making if anyone asked.

“How’s that?” his voice is huskier than before; sending shivers up your spine and rattling you to your core. “G-Good,” you manage, swallowing and taking a moment to catch your breath. “Real good, Steve…”

That seems to do something to him, too, if the way he squeezes your hips are anything to go off of. His fingers flex tightly and he sighs out shakily before letting some of the tension bleed out of him and his palms rub soothingly instead over your hips.

High off the endorphins, you decide to give into the competitiveness in you. If you’re going to be the first one to kiss Steve, you want him to remember it (though that may be the beer talking). Nevertheless, you shift on your knees. Straddling his lap, you stand to lean over him and crush your mouth back to Steve’s. Nothing frantic or rushed, but you decide to take the risk of making things steamier. Hotter. Licking hot into his mouth, Steve groans; pressing hard into the kiss the way you do. Trying to combat you while his hands smooth down to your thighs. A delicious squeeze that makes you sigh through your nose. Brow knitting up, you give a soft tug at the back of Steve’s hair.

It earns a gasp as your mouths part, his head craning back. You take the moment to lean over him and press soft kisses to his mouth, taking deliberate time to give attention to his top and bottom lip; Trailing down from the corner to lavish the skin of his jaw in pecks.

“Oh God,” Steve sighs out rawly, and the words stab you right through the chest - it’s already seared itself in your mind how it sounds from Steve’s perfect lips. “H-How should I touch someone, Y/N? When I kiss them, show me how to touch them…”

And, well, you’d be cruel to deprive Steve of the answer. He needs to learn, after all. You’d be an awful friend not to help teach him.

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nykie-love-anime · 11 months

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Day 6 ~ Adopting A Pet

You and Steve decided it is about time you extend your family with a fur baby. Deciding to adopt a golden retriever puppy you could not be happier.

“Come on Steve, can we please get a puppy.” You looked at your husband. Sitting next to him on the bed leaning your head against his shoulder to give him the puppy dog eyes. “Look,” he sighed. “Tony is not going to be happy that we brought a dog into his tower. No matter what he says it is still his tower.” He shake his head as you look up at him with a sad smile. ‘Well if he wants to play that card I will just play the sad daughter card.’ You thought shaking your head to look at your husband. “Look once everything in our house is done maybe we can get then a dog or two.” He smiled but turned his head back towards the tv playing some old war movie.

“But that is still five months away.” You whined out like a little kid not getting their way. “Then we have to pack and unpack and you know what a mission that will be. Then you go back to working with the Avengers and I will be all alone in that big house with nothing to do, with no company to keep me busy and out of trouble, nobody to protect me when my husband is away fighting aliens.” You let out a sigh laying on your side facing away from Steve and a sneaky grin appeared on your face as he laid behind you.

Knowing that you are getting to the man. You cuddle into him feeling his warmth on your back. “Fine we can adopt a puppy. But we have to go to an adoption shelter, I don’t trust these breeders. And I know we can find a perfect addition to our growing family.” He smiled into your neck and you let out a giggle. “That’s good I was already searching last night and this morning. And I found the most adorable little golden retriever puppy.” You grinned turning around to face the man you love.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this your dad is going to kill me.” Steve whined as you guys parked the car stepping out quickly you can only grin up at him. “Well he has to go through me first and you know when I am happy he will be happy and mom will smack him if I decides to do anything.” You laughed at the look on his face. “Mrs Rogers you are going to be the death of me.” He grinned pulling you towards the entrance.

“Good morning.” You greeted the young boy standing by the door and he just smiled and gawked at Steve before exiting the building. “Hi how can we help you.” The reception lady smiled up at you. “Sorry about my boy he gets super quiet when he is excited but just know he loves your work mister Rogers.” Then she turned to Steve with a small smile. “Thank you ma’am.” He grinned showing his teeth. “Please let him know he can come talk to me, once we are done picking up our pup.”

“Oh yes.” You started. “I made a booking about a week ago. I made the booking under Y/N Rogers.” You grinned at her as she started going through her book. “Ah I have you right here Mrs Rogers. If you would follow me I will show you to your puppy.” She stand calling another lady over, motioning towards you and Steve to follow. “There are five puppies who you can play with for a while then you can decide which one you want to go home along with you guys.”

You and Steve grin at her and she turns towards the door. “If you are done deciding you can bring the little guy or gal upfront and we will get started on the paperwork.” She smiles turning back towards the door and finally exiting. “Oh my goodness look at all these cute faces.” You giggle like a little girl running towards the pups. After about 10 minutes you and Steve decided on a cute female puppy with the fluffiest fur you have ever seen on a dog.

“Okay Mrs Rogers you have an hour to get everything for the puppy. Otherwise I am going to have to come and hunt you down.” He smirked at the offended look on your face which turned to a grin, fast. “I will have you know I will take longer now just because you decided to moan about my shopping.” You smirked at the man as you handed him the puppy. “Please look after my dog so that I can go buy her everything she needs.” You grinned getting out of the car. “Hey it’s my dog too.” He whined out to you and you just giggled.

After an hour of getting everything you need for you pup you exit the store with a trolley with how much you spend. “Again Tony is going to kill all of us.” You hear Steve mutter from behind you will the puppy in his arms. “No he won’t I already talked to my dad and he is fine with us getting a puppy.” You smirked at the man and he look as if you have grown two new heads. “I just wanted to see you sweat for a while. You know what it does to me.” You cackled and Steve shook his head but nonetheless smiling at you.

“Again Mrs Rogers you are going to be the death of me.” He smiles getting into the driver seat handing you the little pup with a smile. “Just know once we get home I am going to have a stern talking to you.” All you could do was giggle excited about what is going to happen to you once you get home. “I love you Stevey.” You kissed his cheek. “I love you Y/N/N even if you are going to drive me to any early grave.” “Yeah, yeah you old man. Just drive I want to get home to show mom and dad our new addition to the family. They are going to be so happy. I showed them pictures last night and they could not be happier with a fur baby joining the family.” You grinned. “So tell me everything you have bought. And will I have to get a second house for everything that you got.” He cackled as you started a rant about everything that you bought was necessary for your little fur baby.

Day 5 | Masterlist | Day 7

#y/n #fluff #reader #female reader #y/n imagines #fem!reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #avengers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #the avengers #marvel cinematic universe #fluffy june prompts day 6 #reader x steve rogers #adopting a puppy

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lovely-geek · 2 years

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Looking for a Steve Rogers story.

I don’t remember much. Just the ending. Steve and reader are dating. She gets kidnapped by brock. Who then makes Steve choose between saving reader. His living girlfriend or save Peggy coffin. Steve decided to save Peggy’s coffin. (Which has a bomb inside.) And brock teases reader bout how her boyfriend loves Peggy more then her and then proceeds to throw reader of the building.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x peggy carter #peggy x steve #peggy carter x steve rogers #avengers imagine #avengers angst #steve rogers and reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #reader and steve rogers #reader x steve rogers #steve angst #steve x peggy #brock runlow imagine #brock x reader #bucky barns x reader

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arrow-guy · 1 year

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Within the Ashes (2/??)

Summary: You’ve spent your life working for someone else. You watch their back, you protect them, but you’re left feeling empty and unfulfilled at the end of the day. What happens when a freak accident transports you to a different dimension, very nearly identical to your own?

A/N: Hi guys! Chapter two is here and it’s time to learn more about the reader and what’s happened to them. If you’re squeamish about burns/injury, please please please read the warnings. I didn’t hold back with the Ick with the reader’s burns and I don’t want you to either read something that’ll make you feel sick or uncomfortable. That said, please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing(s): StevexReader, background Spideytorch

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of burns (fresh and healing), disorientation, interrogation (not intense), different realities

Part 1

“Are they actually alive?” Tony asks.

Steve inches closer and faintly hears the body whimper.

“For now.”

“Christ, that’s gotta be painful.”

“We need to get them to medical.”

“They could be trying to kill us.”

“They can’t do much of anything right now, Tony.”

Tony rolls his eyes and gestures to a set of drawers. “Third down, there’s fresh sheets. Grab one.”

“You keep sheets in the lab?”

“Sheets, drop cloths, same thing at the end of the day. Doesn’t matter, just grab one.”

Steve does as he’s told and they work together to bundle the body up in the soft fabric. The pink-ish ooze of freshly healing burns immediately soaks into the sheet anywhere it touches the wounds. Steve only notices when he scoops them up in his arms. He frowns and turns to Tony.

“Does it look like they’re healing?”

“What?”

“It looks like they’re healing, Tony.” Steve pulls back a corner of the sheet to reveal their shoulder. “That’s not what fresh burns look like. Especially ones this bad.”

Tony’s expression is a mix of disgust and fascination as his eyes flit over the body. The burns on their shoulder slowly, very slowly, skin over with a milky white ooze that could easily be mistaken for infection. It’s not yellow enough, though. Whoever this person is, they heal inhumanly fast.

All Tony says is, “They’re probably in a lot of pain.”

Steve nods and hurries out into the hall, unmoving body clutched to his chest. Tony follows close behind, issuing commands for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to pass along to their medical team.

Steve barely has one foot in the door before someone whisks the body away and someone else places their hand squarely on his chest to stop his momentum. He tries to protest, but his arms are already empty.

“We’ll take it from here, Captain,” they say. “If they heal as fast as Mr. Stark says, we have to move quickly to ensure they’re not permanently stuck in the fetal position.”

Steve nods numbly. “Alright.”

“Any updates we have, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Ah-thank you.”

They nod and quickly move to the bed where the body was placed moments ago. The medical team begins moving their limbs and Steve can’t hear his eyes away out of morbid fascination with the sight. Only when they whimper again does he remember what he’s watching. He averts his eyes and turns back out into the hallway. Tony’s leaning against the wall to Steve’s right, tapping away on his phone.

“They’re in good hands, Steve,” he says. “They’ll heal before you know it and we’ll get our answers.”

“I’d hate to be them right now.”

“Any sane person would be.” Tony pushes off the wall and walks off down the hall. “Lemme know if there are any changes.”

Steve scrubs his hands over his face and slowly walks back to his office.

(Y/N) doesn’t know where she is. Can’t really move her limbs or open her eyes. She’s tired enough that she doesn’t really want to try. She does know she’s in a hospital of some kind. There’s the distant, pulsing beep of a heart monitor and she can occasionally hear the sounds of pen scratching on paper.

The bed she’s lying on is anything but soft and the sheets make her itch all over. She’s cold, initially, but she’s not awake enough at any given time to complain anyway.

Eventually, when she finally feels herself coming back to her body, she’s moved to a different bed. A smooth garment is slipped onto her body and she’s placed on top of sheets significantly softer than before. She’s still sore and pain occasionally flares up around particularly tender areas, especially where her skin is thinnest, but she finds that she’s more comfortable. It’s easier to let herself rest.

When she can finally open her eyes, it’s not for very long. Staying awake takes too much energy. She rolls over, ignores the way her left arm won’t move and the pressure around that wrist, and goes back to sleep. She can worry about it when she’s more lucid and the steadily growing pressure behind her eyes dissipates.

Unfortunately, she wakes up with a pounding headache and something about the bright, buzzing fluorescent lights only serves to make it worse. So, she attempts to cover her eyes with her left arm, only to be stopped short. (Y/N) frowns and tugs against the resistance on her arm. Same distance, but it's followed by a feeble, metallic rattle. Her frown deepens and she cracks one eye to investigate while rubbing the other with her free hand.

She finds her left hand bound at the wrist to the hospital bed railing with a length of gray fabric. The material has very little give and the knots at either end are tied well. Even knowing this she tries to pull at the loop around her wrist. She puts a little extra strength behind it. Even so, unsurprisingly, it does nothing.

"Huh."

She's looking a little too closely at the knot at her wrist and thinking about using her teeth on it when a man appears at the foot of the bed. Startled, she jumps and accidentally smacks herself in the face with her left hand. She makes a small noise of disappointment and rubs at the point of impact.

“Sorry,” the man says. “Did I startle you?”

“A little,” she mumbles.

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

(Y/N) watches him fold his arms across his chest and wishes she could poke his biceps. She might have super strength, but she’s never had the resting muscle definition to prove it. Johnny always teases her for staring at Jen Walters for a little too long. She sighs and briefly wonders if he knows where she is.

“Miss?”

“What? Sorry. I’m a little spacy.” She moves to run her hand over her hair, but only finds the stubbly peach fuzz of regrowth. “Weird.”

“With the state you were in when you showed up, I’d say you’re lucky to even have hair.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“It was pretty grotesque.”

“Oh. Sorry.” (Y/N) clears her throat and sits herself up. “You have questions?”

“Right.” He squares his shoulders. (Y/N) thinks it’s to make him more intimidating. It doesn’t work. “Who sent you?”

“Sorry?”

“You appeared out of thin air in our lab. It’s hard to believe that would just randomly happen. So, who sent you?”

(Y/N) shakes her head. “No one.”

“I don’t believe you. So I’ll ask again; why are you here?”

“Okay, well I don’t know where here is, so you have me at a distinct disadvantage.”

“You don’t know where you are?”

“No.”

“Where did you plan to be?”

“At home, in my bed, reading a book.” She looks around the room. “Where am I?”

“Avengers tower.”

“Tower?” Confused, she frowns. “I thought the Avengers operated out of a mansion somewhere in the city.”

“What mansion?”

“Y’know, that posh mansion with a bunch of floors below the ground that too many people know how to get to.” The man doesn’t give any indication that he does, in fact, know. “Tony Stark funds everything? Captain America is the figurehead?”

“Sounds right, but the location is wrong.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I’m Captain America.”

The corner of her mouth quirks up. “No you’re not.” The man raises one eyebrow. “Are you?”

“I am.”

“But you’re so…” Handsome, soft, almost approachable, her brain supplies. “And he’s so righteous, buzzcut, quarterback.” Her eyes go wide with realization and her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh God, Reed. What’d you do?”

Had Reed’s transport actually worked? Even with chunks flying off, even after exploding, had it sent her to a different dimension? It seems like that’s what happened. This man claims to be Steve Rogers, but he doesn’t look like the Captain she knows. Well, that’s not entirely true. He does look like her Steve Rogers, but not enough for her to think they’re the same person. But who’s to say anyone’s equivalent in a different reality would match them perfectly?

“Who’s Reed?”

“My boss. Reed Richards.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“You don’t know him?”

“Can’t say that I do.”

“He’s lauded as one of the smartest humans on the planet. Right up there with Stark and Banner.” The Captain just shakes his head. “What about the Fantastic Four? Mr. Fantastic, the Invisible Woman, Human Torch, the Thing?”

“They don’t sound familiar, no.”

She presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I must sound like a lunatic.”

“Yes, you do.” A man with dark hair and perfectly groomed facial hair strides into the room. “But I have heard of Richards, and I’m particularly offended that you’d compare the two of us.”

(Y/N) would know that goatee anywhere, but the face is wrong. “You’re-”

“Tony Stark.”

She nods. “Right.”

“Why don’t you explain what’s going on here.”

(Y/N) presses her fingers to her temple. “I’m Reed’s lab assistant. He’s been working on interdimensional transportation for months now and finally settled on something he was sure would work a few days ago, but when we went to tests, the entire thing malfunctioned. Thing literally blew up. From what I can remember, I was caught in the blast. Now I’m here.”

“Hilarious. Tell the truth.”

“I am.”

“That technology doesn’t exist yet. Not to mention the fact that your entire body was one massive third degree burn. Yet you’ve miraculously healed. Explain.”

“I have a healing factor that’s just a smidge weaker than Wolverine’s. I wouldn’t survive a nuclear blast, but full body third degree burns are manageable, I guess.”

“Wolverine?”

“Nigh unto immortal Mutant? Legendary X-Man?” Both Rogers and Stark shake their heads. “Seriously? He’s been alive since before the civil war.”

“Doesn’t ring any bells.”

“Great, you don’t have the X-Men.” She drags her hand over what little hair has grown back. “The only explanation I can come up with, and I apologize for my limited knowledge, I’m just the muscle, is that I was transported to a universe or reality adjacent to mine. Which… would only serve to prove Reed’s theory about a multiverse.”

“Seriously? A multiverse?”

“I don’t know, ask Doctor Strange. I’m not an expert by any means, but I know that this is one of the many intersections of science and magic.” She pauses. “Stephen Strange is the Sorcerer Supreme here, right?”

“He might be.”

“Okay.” She nods, mostly to herself. “Okay.”

“What’s your name?” Rogers asks.

“(Y/N).”

“Last name?”

“(Y/L/N),” she answers. “There might be another me in this reality, but I don’t know how closely realities mimic each other, so… who knows.”

Rogers hums and turns to look at Stark, who just shrugs and says he’ll look into it. He then leaves with the promise of contacting Strange and (Y/N) is suddenly alone with Rogers.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know this is a lot for all of you to deal with.”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.” She bites her lip. “How long was I out for?”

“About four days.”

“Oh shit. That’s way longer than I’ve been down in the past.”

“You were barely recognizable as a human being when you appeared. I think that gives you a pass on healing a little slower than usual.”

“Mm, you’re probably right.” Rogers nods absentmindedly. “Wild question; could you untie me?”

“Hm?”

“Could you untie me?” she repeats. “I know it’s for everyone’s safety, but I'm not going anywhere, and I’m pretty sure I’ll accidentally break the railing if I fall asleep like this again.”

"It's pretty sturdy."

"Could you break this pretty sturdy railing?"

"We'll, yeah-"

"Then I'd be able to break it." He raises his eyebrows and she gestures to herself. "Pretty-sturdy-railing will meet pretty-strong-burn-victim, and the burn victim will win."

“So you heal quickly and you’re super strong?”

"Yes, exactly."

"How?"

(Y/N) shrugs. "Luck of the draw, I guess. I mean, how does anyone get their powers, if not by chance?"

"In my experience, through a lot of scientific experimentation."

“Mm, I guess so. You said you don’t know about the X-Men, right?”

“Right.”

“Hm, then I guess you don’t really have anyone who’s genetically predisposed to having powers, then.”

"Maybe we do and we just haven't met them yet."

"Maybe." She stifles a yawn. "The government likes to beat back anyone they see as a threat with a stick, so I wouldn't blame anyone for hiding their powers."

"They do that where you're from?"

"Mhm." Rogers quietly approaches and unties the knot around (Y/N)'s wrist in one smooth motion. "Thank you. It's cyclical, sometimes."

"Can't say it's much different here." (Y/N) yawns again and tries to sit up a little straighter. “You should get some rest.”

She shakes her head and absentmindedly rubs her left wrist. “I’m sure you have more questions.”

“Nothing that can’t wait till tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” He pats her shoulder and heads for the door. “I’ll make sure some food is sent up for you.”

“Thank you, Captain Rogers.”

He nods and disappears into the hallway.

--------

Part 3

Alrighty, so the reader character isn’t dead, huzzah! But now they’re stuck in an alternate reality. Could this prove to be a Bad Thing? Or maybe it’s just a brand new adventure. You’ll have to tune in next time to find out.

As always, I’d love to know what you thought of this chapter! Are you surprised by how careful Steve was with the Body? How do you feel about the Reader character being tied to their hospital bed? Was Steve as intimidating as he thought he was? Be sure to reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

Tag List:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101-blog, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @buckysendoftheline, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux. @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @feelmyroarrrr, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @hermionie-is-my-queen. @darling-loki, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @lemonadeorange73, @princess-unicorn124, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @avengerscompound, @patzammit

This fic:

@brattymum96

#steve rogersxreader #readerxsteve rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers #steverogersxreader #readerxsteverogers #the other boi #reader insert fanfiction

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wheredafandomat · 2 years

Text

Dr. Laufeyson

Chapter 15 - Carnivore beast

Warnings etc: Loki x female reader au where Lokis a therapist, therapy, flashbacks, smut, swearing, mentions of past trauma later in the fic including abuse both physically and sexually - not explicit detail, 18+. PLEASE tell me if I ever leave anything out x

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“Mm, that feels really nice.” You spoke monotone as Steve continued to thrust into you. You decided you’d focus on the ceiling as opposed to his face that was contorted in such a vile expression. Sighing, Steve stopped his movements as he settled his gaze onto you with a more concerned expression. Feeling that he was no longer moving, you looked back at him. “What?”

“You could seem a little more enthusiastic.” He replied.

“Well it’s hard to enjoy when all I can see is a carnivore beast grunting above me.” You huffed.

“We’re technically omnivores.” He countered “plus you called me remember.”

“And now I’m starting to wish I hadn’t.” You tutted as Steve pulled out of you before rummaging around for his boxers before settling at the end of the bed, probably to throw his used condom into your bedroom bin - you really did hate Steve.

“Let’s just go see Buck.”

“I’m going to the toilet first.” You announced, standing up as you quickly threw your clothes on and picked up your phone. Entering your bathroom, you closed the door behind you before closing the toilet seat lid and sitting down on top of it as you searched your contacts for Loki. Of course, he didn’t answer and your call went straight to voice mail. “Hi Loki it’s me, again. Could you please call me back or message me or something it’s been two days.” You left the voice mail and then held your phone in your hand as you took a deep breath. It had been two days. Two days since Loki thought it appropriate to tear your clothes off in the kitchen and then run out afterwards and refuse to answer your calls or messages. You felt terrible. You didn’t know whether it was your fault, whether or not you did something wrong or if Loki was just like every other man.

“Hurry up.” Steve called from the other side.

“Give me a minute, fuck.” You glowered.

Soon after, you were in Steve’s car as you both drove towards the Ostroff Centre to see Bucky. You picked up some fruits on the way there not sure what to bring but not wanting to go empty handed. Every time Steve’s hand wondered towards your thigh, squeezing reassuringly as if you were visibly panicking, you felt nauseous. Every moment reminded you of why you had broken up in the first place. You thought back to the last time you went to the Centre, you met Loki there. He was so quick to help you, comfort you and now things were different. Your relationship had changed and you weren’t too sure whether they’d ever go back or even progress. Anything was better than this stagnant pause. You didn’t even know if you had a therapist now or if you had to start the whole process again with someone new. Regardless of your more intimate relationship with Loki, you were starting to appreciate him professionally too. Noticing your absentmindedness, Steve of course squeezed your leg again, hand reaching higher every time.

Once you arrived, you were escorted to the gardens where Bucky was indulging in some peaceful birdwatching. Interrupting him, you and Steve sat either side of him. Turning towards you, Bucky quickly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. It seems he had missed you just as much as you had missed him. You hugged him back, feeling yourself finally relax after that night with Loki. It felt like this was the first time you had breathed since then.

“I’ve missed you.” You spoke into his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too doll. Where’s the therapist?” He answered. Feeling you stiffen, Bucky decided to hold you tighter.

“Not gonna say anything to me?” Steve cut in with a small smile before Bucky let you go and greeted him. Whilst they both caught up with one another, you decided to excuse yourself and call Loki again. Hopefully this time he’d pick up despite the other hundred or so times he didn’t. Still no luck.

After leaving Bucky, you and Steve were back to silence in the car journey home. When you both reached a red light, Steve turned towards you.

“You alright?”

“Course, not that you’d care.” You sassed back.

“Come on. I care, you know I care.” He answered, continuing to drive once the lights changed.

“Well you have a funny way of showing it.” You spoke, rolling your eyes as you remembered your relationship with him.

“But I still do care.” He winked, glancing at you before a silence fell over you both once again. “There’s a party happening tonight at that club we used to always go to, I can pick you up and we could go together.” He offered, breaking the silence.

“I’ll let you know.” You replied, certain you definitely wouldn’t be going there despite how much you were itching for a night out, you deserved one.

Once Steve dropped you home, you ran yourself a bath before calling Loki again. You laughed mirthlessly at yourself as it rang, you knew he wasn’t going to answer. It was beyond stupid that you were still trying. If he wanted to speak to you, he’d have answered by now or called you back. At this point, it felt as if you were only calling him to make it seem as if you had people to talk to. In reality, you felt completely isolated. You wished he’d pick up. Biting your lip, your heart dropped when he did answer.

“Hello?” The person answered and it definitely wasn’t Lokis voice.

Gasping, you quickly hung up the phone. Perhaps you would be going out with Steve tonight.

Tags:

@michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lokisprettygirl22 @howdidurhammergrowchris @consistentreader578 @mcufan72 @lokixryss @jaspearl31 @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lucylaufeyson3 @peacope @emma-laufeyson @deathlydelusion @multifandom-world8 @lulubelle814 @ppartridgee @geekwritersworld @kats72 @123forgottherest @lokisninerealms

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #tom hiddelston loki #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #loki smut #bucky x reader #loki angst #reader x steve rogers

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waste45 · 2 years

Text

It's Just That...

Steve Rogers x m!reader

Includes: Anal penetration, Anal fingering, bottoming for the first time, sub!reader (briefly), bottom!reader (briefly), dom!reader, top!reader, m!reader

All Steve Rogers needed was to be treated like an ordinary person. Go on dates, to work, gossip, and other typical activities. He couldn't since he was the first Avenger, America's Golden Boy, and a super soldier. If he didn't have such titles, he pondered how life would be.

He finally understood how it felt when he met you. It seemed as though all his concerns about being Captain America vanished the moment he was in your presence. You truly were the definition of great. You were gifted, kind, and compassionate. Steve could gush endlessly about his affection for you. He hadn’t felt this way since..

Everything in your relationship was perfect, with the exception of your sex life. The sex was good, but it could probably be better than it is right now. Steve was stronger and far taller than you, so it seemed evident that he would top during .Steve didn't like to alter up the position, so it was always the same whenever you two had sex. It was getting boring to say the least.

While you're currently riding him and having the time of your life, it appears that Steve isn't having any fun at all. His eyes were closed, his brows were wrinkled, and he had a slight frown on his face. He appeared much the same all the time. He hardly made any noise, save for the occasional phoney moan and grunt that suggested discomfort.

“F-Fuck..Steve!” As you finished, your cum spurted all over his chest and face as you moaned softly.

You looked at the time as you kept bobbing up and down on him while you waited for him to finish. You quickly get up from the bed and get yourself out. Steve appears to be both relieved and a little perplexed when he stares at you.

"I completely forgot that I have work. I must leave. I'm sorry you had to finish alone. I'm very sorry, and I'll make it up to you as soon as I get home. Before rushing to put on some clothes, you say.

“It’s..okay.” Steve muses softly.

However, you quickly exit the bedroom and walk away. Sex with Steve is not what you expected it to be. You felt a little let down since every time you suggested doing something unusual in the bedroom, he would ignore you. asking in particular whether he wants to do something different Steve would blush and appeared as if he was trying to speak but was unable to. You vowed to force him to spit it out.

“Do you not think I'm attractive, Steve?” You enquire as you put a spoonful of the meal you just made in your lips.

Your head was resting on his chest as you two sat on the couch with the dish of food in your lap. Steve tensed up beneath you and let out a trembling gasp. “I do, I do,” He spoke. “Why wouldn’t I..you’re my boyfriend.”

You put the bowl on the table and knelt down next to him, facing Steve. “Really, why do you seem to be having no fun when we do it”

“It’s not that..it’s just..”

There it was, anytime you mentioned bedroom activities. He’d avoid eye contact, his cheeks a dark shade of red.

"It's not that—just that."

Every time you suggested in-room activities, there it was. His cheeks were a dark red colour, and he would avoid eye contact.

“Steve..

I want both of us to enjoy having sex. If you are not having fun, I cannot. Please let me know if I did something wrong.

As he takes a swallow, you can see his Adam apple wiggle up and down. “Well, I don't want to fuck you, that's for sure. You should fuck me, please.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to process what he just said. “Sorry?”

"Put your dick in me," He said, turning his head slight to look at your eyes.

You make an ‘o’ shape with your mouth, he then let out a small laugh which turned into full on laughter. Steve just sits there letting a small awkward laughter as well.

“Sweetie..I would love to stick my dick in you.”

You see a wave of relief wash over him, and his lips curl into a smile.

You had never topped before, and often you were in the weaker position, so it was unusual to say the least. You were generally the one patiently waiting on the bed, leg’s spread and head against the pillow behind you. You've never attempted this before, and you certainly never imagined that a super solider would be your first. First person to the bottom for you, not first first.

“Is something wrong?” You hear a small voice pipe up from the bed.

You were across the room, condom and lube in hand. “No..sorry”

Steve remained silent and only observed as you approached him. You climbed up on top of Steve and confronted him. Before your lips collide with another's, the two of you merely stare at one other. The gentle, sweet beginning quickly devolves into a messy make out.

You caress his pecs while tracing your hand up his belly. They were enormous and velvety but firm at the same time, and they were probably your favourite feature of him. Steve grunts a little in response to the sensation. After breaking off your kiss, you continued to kiss his neck and jaw.

You turned to glance up when you heard a faint whine above you. "What's wrong?”

While whimpering, Steve frowns. He rubs up against your thigh in an effort to catch your attention. To tease him even more, you smirk a little. “Could you…”

“Use your words darling.” You coo, trying to not to smile.

“Touch me..” You laugh a little at his request. You give his right breast a firm squeeze, which made him let out a sharp gasp. “But I am.”

“You’re the worst..touch my dick please..” He admitted.

You weren't prepared for Steve to admit this so quickly, but he did so after much hesitation and, of course, with a scarlet face. In response to his request, you ran your hand over your head. At the contact, it twitched somewhat fiercely.

“Please. Please…ugh.” He begged and moan while still rubbing against you. He quickened in pace and since he’s so much strong and bigger than you, you were kinda getting thrown around.

“Stevie…calm down. I’m about to fall off the bed here”

He abruptly comes to a stop and mutters a brief apology out of shame. How desperately he wanted you was hot, to put it mildly. This is a side of Steve that you've never seen, and you were really enjoying it.

His dick is encircled by one of your hands, and you excruciatingly slow pump it. Steve tries to thrust into your hand , but you restrain him. Despite having a clear advantage over you, he decides to let you do it with a small whimper in protest of course.

He moans as you speed up, stopping in a few seconds. “Fuck..you’re so hot Steve. I can’t wait to fuck you.” He lets out a moan at your dirty talk and gives a frantically nod. You grab the lube and squirt on your fingers. You slightly circle his hole, teasingly before pushing your finger in. It wasn’t as tight as you expected it to be, it was kind of loose? You thrust in and out of him and eventually added a second finger. It was quiet except for the squelching sound of you fingering him and Steve’s muffled moans as he had his hand over his mouth. “I-I kind of fingered myself this morning..I was really impatient.” He confessed.

You add another finger and hum a little as you glance up at Steve. He lets out a loud moan and his body trembles as you drive in and out of him and brush against a specific spot inside of him. He let’s out strings of curse words mixed with moans as you continue to finger him.

You pull your fingers out. “I guess I won’t need to do that anymore.”

You remove your underwear with a slight sense of relief. At how icy it was, you pour more lubrication over your dick. Although it felt loose around your fingers, it was unquestionably tighter around your dick when you lined it up and carefully inserted it.

“Be gentle, Y/N.” You hear Steve squeak from below. His lips was slightly open, but his eyes were closed. To put it simply, it was an expression of both pleasure and suffering. Before starting to slowly shove into him, you bite your lower lip. Furthermore, it felt fantastic. You moaned as he clenched around.. You at last realised why topping was so addictive.

Steve was definitely feeling good, the way his hands clenched the sheets beneath you and the tears in the corner of his eyes. Also his mouth letting out sounds you could listen to all day. “God, Stevie you feel amazing. You feeling good?”

He let out a mewl in response, couldn’t even muster up a proper answer for you. Just another reason on how good he was feeling. You grab a hold of his dick and began pumping it, matching it with your thrusts.

“Im-go..ing..to!”

Before he could continue speaking, he covered himself in white spray. You release into him and quickly remember that you completely neglected to put on a condom. “I totally forgot to put a condom on, I'm sorry.”

Steve looked out of breathe as his face was red and he panting “It’s okay..that felt really good.”

You pull him into a sloppy after-sex kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. Though you were a hesitant to do this at first you totally don’t regret agreeing.

#mcu #marvel #steve rogers #sub steve rogers #bottom steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #captain america #captain america fic #dom reader #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #marvel mcu #marvel phase 4 #sub reader #m!reader #m!dom!reader

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endorspeaches · 2 years

Text

We Can Just Talk (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: some crying. some fluff. you know the usual.

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers, Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You receive a letter from Steve. A whirlwind of emotions is just the beginning.

Listen with: City Lights - Austin Farwell

Masterlist

You wake up abruptly to the sound of your alarm. You reach over with your eyes still closed. You feel around for your phone. You bring it to your face and open one eye and shut it off. You place it next to you on the bed. You lay there for a moment. You finally open your eyes and look over to the end of the bed. You can’t help but picture Steve laying there in your robe scrunching his face at you. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve heard from him.

“I need to stop.” you sit up.

You pull the blanket off and walk over to your window and pull back the curtain. You breathe in and breathe out before turning around and walking out of your bedroom out to the kitchen.

You reach the fridge and the drawing Steve gave you is there with a cow printed magnet holding it up. A small note you hadn’t noticed before on the edge of it reads *I will always come back to you*.

“Damn it Steve.” You rub your eyes before pulling the fridge door and grabbing the brita.

You pour water into the coffee machine and turn it on. You stand there with an empty stare at the backsplash before being snapped back into the room to your phone ringing.

You run to your bedroom throwing your blanket around till you grab your phone. It’s your new client.

“Hello?” you gasp.

“Hi Y/N, sorry to call you so early but I hope we can reschedule today? Something has come up.” The voice on the other end says.

“Yes, of course, Is everything ok?” You rush over to your desk

“Yes everything is ok, I didn’t remember my fiancé's surprise wedding brunch was today. I hope it’s ok to cancel so last minute.” Your client responds.

“It’s no problem Brian, it was just a lunch to go over the plans I had been emailing about. I like lunch plans just to be a bit formal but we can either reschedule or I can work out a Google doc to share with you guys and maybe schedule a phone call to go over it. I don’t want to pressure you into figuring all that out right now but let’s just make a placeholder appointment for now?” you set your phone on speaker as you wake up your computer.

“We can totally do lunch next week? For now, let’s just make an appointment and we can get back to you tomorrow if that’s ok?” He asks.

“We can totally do that, how does Friday or Saturday at 3 sound?” you say as you sit back in your desk chair.

“I’ll take Friday. I’ll talk to Claudia later tonight and get back to you tomorrow morning. Thank you so much talk to you soon.” He responds

“Alright have fun, talk to you later bye.” you end the call.

You sit back up and you type out *Lunch with Claudia and Brian @ 3*. You watch the text cursor blinking and begin to zone out again. When your downstairs buzzer goes off startling you.

"Who the hell could that be?" you walk over as the buzzer goes off again.

"Gees." you rush over

"Who is it?" you buzz down

"It's Natasha, we met a few weeks ago. Can we talk?" she replied.

"Yeah, umm come on up." you buzz her in

You begin to panic. * What happen? What's going on? Is Steve okay?*

You pace in the hall before catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

"Omg, I haven't even brushed my teeth," you mutter as you try to tame your bedhead.

Then there is a tap at the door. You take a deep breath before opening the door.

"Hi, come on in." you try to swallow the worry in your voice.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." she reaches over and pulls you into a hug

"Oh... No worries I've been up for a bit. I just got off a client call. I'm sorry you have to see me like this." you point down to your PJs.

"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" she shrugs

"I'm... I'm in pajamas Natasha," you smirk

"Even in pajamas you look amazing." she smiles.

"Thank you. Make yourself at home. Would you like some coffee?" you feel yourself getting hot.

"Yes, I'll take some." she sits on your couch.

You pour 2 cups and grab the sugar and creamer and walk to the couch.

"I wasn't sure how you like your coffee. What is it you want to talk about?" you try not to show your trembling hands.

"Thank you. It's about Rogers," she says before taking a sip of her coffee

Your heart sinks. You look at her in a panic.

"I'm sorry I don't mean to sound so ominous. I usually don't do favors, but I'll do just about anything for him to get a life." she sips her coffee again before setting it down.

"I'm sorry I don't understand. Is everything ok?" you ask

"Yes, Everything is okay. Rogers is fine. He just asked me to come to check on you. He can't make calls right now. I shouldn't be here either but if anyone can sneak around unseen it's me." she takes another sip.

"I was freaking out a bit," you reply

"He told me to not freak you out but I couldn't help myself." she smiles

"Yeah you got me good." you finally sip your coffee

"You won't hear much from us for a while. I don't know how much he told you, but we aren't the favorites of the world right now. We have to go into hiding for some time. He asked me to check on you, and bring you this." she hands you an envelope.

"I understand. Thank you for the risk you took to bring me this. Is there anything you need? Can I help?" you ask

"We will be ok, I can't carry anything. If you want to write him something I can make sure he gets it." she finishes her coffee.

"Um yes, omg how much time do I have?" you stand.

"Take your time, I'll let you know." she picks up her cup and the creamer and sugar.

"Thank you, Help yourself to whatever. I'll be quick." you walk to your desk.

"Anything? Because I really enjoyed that jacket you had on the day we met." she laughs.

"I thought you couldn't carry anything?" you look up from your desk.

"I wouldn't be carrying it, I'd be wearing it." she walks into your bedroom.

You sit at your desk staring at the paper in front of you.

"Steve,

I haven't read your letter yet. I don't know what to write. I know that it might be months maybe even years before I see or hear from you. God that settled way too quick in my head..."

You begin to tear up.

"... I miss you every day. I've caught myself staring off into space a lot lately. Funny enough my apartment doesn't feel right. I feel alone. I never did before. I know you spent a few days here but it felt like a lifetime. We didn't talk much about it but I think I have an idea of what kind of life we are signing up for. I'm for this life if you're for it to Steve. I wake up hoping to see you in my kitchen. Let's face it you wake up to damn early for me to find you in bed with me. Take care of yourself. I'd say come back in one piece but watching the news I just want you to come back to me alive. I miss you so much. Keep your promise.

Also, Natasha did in fact freak me out.

I miss you so much,

-Y/N"

"Don't I look great? " Natasha walks out of your room with your jacket and something in her hands.

"You look better than I did that's for sure." you fold your letter into an envelope.

"Here put that in there too." she hands you a picture of yourself.

"Omg, where did you find that." you look at the picture as you put it into the envelope.

"I had plenty of time to snoop. I do have to get going now." she reaches out for a hug again.

"Take care of yourself Y/N" she tightens her hug.

"You too Natasha." you take a deep breath.

She pulls away a reaches for your letter.

"Thank you for coming." you hand her the letter and begin walking to your front door.

"Of course. I'll see you around," she says closing the door behind her.

You walk back to your living room and see the letter on your desk. Your heart sinks back down. Your throat tightens up.

You pick up the letter and curl up on the couch. Your eyes begin to well up with tears. You look up to the ceiling and a stream slides down your cheek.

"Damn it, Steve," you mutter out.

You look at the unopen letter. You think about how much you need to get done today. Your morning was escaping you already. You still had to get dressed and get on to your workload for the day. A messy tearful cry wasn't something you were planning on today. You also had a meeting with another possible client, you couldn't possibly afford to meet them with puffy eyes. You placed the letter on your coffee table and proceeded with getting ready and under-eye patches.

As you grab your laptop off your desk and begin to stick it in your bag you catch a glimpse of the letter sitting on your coffee table. You wanted to rip it open in hopes that Steve would fall out of the envelope. You walk down the hall only to glance back at the letter before making it to the door. You take a deep breath and head out to start the day you're already running behind on.

Throughout the day you would remember the letter. You would panic at the thought of someone breaking into your apartment and taking the letter. You begin to worry about Steve and Natasha and them having to go into hiding. You become overwhelmed with worry so you dive right back into your work and try your best not to have a moment to think about the letter.

It was finally time to go back home. As you get in the back of your uber it began to rain.

"The rain was teasing us all day. It finally arrived." says the uber driver.

"Uh.. oh yeah perfect timing right?" you reply.

"It's just a little water, it ain't ever hurt nobody," they respond.

"I guess you're right." you chuckle.

The uber pulls up to your building. The view outside your window reminds you of the day you met Steve. Your stomach flips.

"Thank you," you say back to the Uber as you run up to your door.

You fumble your keys around until you finally make your way to the elevator. You look back at the glass door picturing Steve running back to you after asking his driver to leave.

*DING*

The elevator snaps you back to reality and you get on and press 6. Each floor dinging you closer and closer to the letter. Finally, you arrive at your floor. You freeze in the elevator.

"Why am I so nervous?" you mutter to yourself.

You enter your apartment, throw off your shoes, drop all your things on the kitchen counter, and get out of your work clothes. You're in the middle of washing your face when you force yourself to hurry up to get to the letter.

You open your curtains and the balcony doors to let the noise of rain fill your apartment. You sit on the couch and stare at the letter. You finally reach for it and tear it open.

"My Dearest Y/N,

I have stared at this blank page for a few days now. The days move along but the nights are always longer. I promised you I would come back to you. I meant every word I said to you in your apartment. I could never imagine a life without you. Honey- I miss you so much it makes me mad at the world sometimes. I try to figure out the why of this and that and how it got right in the middle of us getting into the swing of things. I have to stay away for some time. I don't know how long but there will come a day when we will be together again and then it will be forever after that. I see you in everything I do. It makes doing anything impossible. I doodle your name on anything I can get my hands on. I'm pretty sure Sam is getting tired of me. I imagine your pretty head on my arm every night or slow dancing in your kitchen. I miss watching you fall asleep listening to my never-ending stories. It's been raining where I am and gosh do I miss your pillows. I wish I could call you just to hear you laugh. Look I don't mean to make this difficult for you but I hope you wait for me. I don't want to be overconfident but something tells me you will.

Can I ask you a question, Why me?

(You can let me know when we see each other again)

Yours Forever,

Steve Grant Rogers."

You pressed the letter into your chest and let a tear stream down your face. You see something else in the envelope. It's a drawing. It's a sketch of a boat out on a body of water on the side of the boat it reads "Paul & Darlene".

"Damn it, Steve." you wipe the tears from your face

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thiswillbecomesomething · 2 years

Text

Butterflies Refurbished 🦋 04

Steve Rogers isn't sad, Y/N L/N isn't upset. They're both just grieving from relationships, death and the world. Because they will be fine. Moving to Brooklyn does help some people.

← Series Masterlist →

A Steve Rogers x Reader social media story.

10 Slides - Masterlist

Started: 24.04.2022

Finished: 24.04.2022

Posted: 18.07.2022

a/n... I can't believe how this is going I am so proud of myself! I'm doing it like actually doing it!!! So happy. I really liked this chapter. Also because I know where this is going I know how impactful this chapter is.

...

Taglist:

Add yourself to the Taglist (or send me an ask)

@clarinette07 @thelindalorian [1] @becausewelie @prentisswrites @hermionieismyqueen [1] @tenaciousperfectionunknown @supraveng @anna-bailey [1] @celestialsxturn @writerwrites @lou-la-lou @majo240820-deactivated20220712 @high-on-darren-criss @wandas-love @dontbescaredtosingalong @bunnyweasley23

(If your username has a strikethrough and a [number] next to it this means your tag has not worked, please reach out if you'd like to resurrect this. After 3 tried you will be removed.)

#becomings butterflies #becomings work #social media au #marvel social media au #marvel #marvel au #becomings blue #becomings blue work #blue work #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers

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espinosaurusrexex · 2 months

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Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket.

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster.

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes.

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other.

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him.

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side.

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk.

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them.

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.”

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold.

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room.

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.”

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that.

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do.

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?”

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling.

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job.

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude.

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile.

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision.

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them.

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now.

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year.

There was just one problem.

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes.

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist.

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again.

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event.

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem.

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now.

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors.

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail.

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor.

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well.

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought.

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye.

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant.

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them.

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in.

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water.

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward.

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless.

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours.

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.”

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to.

“Wait you’re working for SPS?”

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body.

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again.

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden.

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating.

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind.

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile.

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you.

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready.

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys.

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it.

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic.

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future.

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them.

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder.

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world.

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea.

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen.

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.”

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.”

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office.

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant.

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary.

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.”

And so you did.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen.

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh.

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat.

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened.

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside.

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly.

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath.

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that.

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.”

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal.

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation.

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato.

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been.

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer.

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises.

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door.

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain.

“He’s very admirable for that.”

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional.

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face.

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep.

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now.

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head.

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.”

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.”

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside.

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone.

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar.

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous.

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought.

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop.

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled.

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home.

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right.

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod.

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table.

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown.

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.”

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing.

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day.

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched.

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?”

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known.

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand.

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower.

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home.

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes.

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door.

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...”

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest.

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek.

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself.

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him.

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen.

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug.

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer.

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed.

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture.

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away.

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking.

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body.

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly.

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it.

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless.

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day.

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You.

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence.

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair.

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided.

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him.

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you.

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him.

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you.

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day.

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve.

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us.

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind.

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture.

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve.

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face.

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed.

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again.

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected.

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered.

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you.

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same.

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again.

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew.

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent.

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.”

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer.

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?”

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again.

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet.

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight.

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head.

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile.

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla.

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat.

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all.

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop.

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?”

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name.

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile.

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted.

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth.

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again.

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings.

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions.

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire.

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time.

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future.

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed.

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky.

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out.

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away.

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them.

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off.

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now.

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth.

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it.

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind.

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome.

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it.

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city?

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement.

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose.

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours.

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer.

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint.

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect.

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him.

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating.

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans.

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath.

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear.

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you.

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time.

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you.

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips.

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern.

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise.

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him.

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them.

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers.

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest.

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy.

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up.

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap.

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.”

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip.

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal.

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then.

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit.

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult.

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you.

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy.

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm.

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance.

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back.

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.”

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his.

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs.

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer.

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth.

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of.

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy.

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

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evansbby · 5 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.

𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”

“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.

His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.

Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.

And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.

You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.

“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”

Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.

“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.

Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.

And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.

After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.

And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.

“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”

Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…

“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.

He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.

“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”

Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.

And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.

Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.

What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.

The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.

“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.

You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”

Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.

“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.

“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”

“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”

He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.

“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”

Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.

“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”

You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.

He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.

“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.

“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.

It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.

“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”

You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”

“Take it out.”

A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.

“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.

“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”

He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.

“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”

“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air. It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

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arrow-guy · 1 year

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Within the Ashes (1/??)

A/N: Please understand this has been in my head for almost a year at this point and started out with the reader being an LMD without knowing it. That’s definitely not the situation with the story now, but please know it’s been through a lot of Idea Workshopping lmao. Also, the version of the FF that’s in this story is definitely a very Fanfiction-ified version, but it’s my coping mechanism, so I decide who’s good and who’s gay. Thank u for coming to my preface, please enjoy the first chapter.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: StevexReader, background Spideytorch

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fire, explosions, extreme injury (burns, cuts, contusions), gross descriptions of burns, rapid healing, canon typical violence

“Reed, I honestly don’t think we should test it today.”

“And why’s that?”

“Promise you’ll take my concerns seriously? Because you’ve been a dick about it every other time.”

Without looking away from his screens, Reed suggests, “How about you tell me, and I’ll do my level best to keep an open mind.”

“Fine.” It’s not much, but she knows it’s the best she’ll get. “I just have a bad feeling about it.”

“Another gut feeling?” He finally turns his head to look at her, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Is that really enough to put off this test?”

“We live in a world where magic is real and you’re questioning a gut feeling?” She folds her arms. “There’s evidence that proves the existence of a nervous system in the stomach, Reed. You know this. Gut feelings are a thing, and very seldom are mine wrong. And you’d know this if you ever cared to actually listen to me.”

Reed stretches his neck so that his face is just slightly too close to (Y/N)’s. “Name one instance.”

“Two weeks ago when you were tinkering with that vacuum chamber. I told you something was wrong with it, you brushed it off because it was a gut feeling. Then it blew up.”

“Oh please-”

“I had a six inch shard of glass stuck in my shoulder!”

He rolls eyes and his head snaps back to his shoulders. Reed waves her off. “You healed.”

“I wouldn’t have had to heal in the first place if you’d listened to me.”

“We’re still testing the transport today.”

“Seriously?”

“I… respect your gut feelings, but we can’t allow that to get in the way of the progression of science.”

(Y/N) scowls. “This is exactly why no one wants to work with you.”

“You want to work with me.”

“I took the job as a favor to Johnny.”

“And yet it’s been eight years.”

“Yeah,” she mutters. “Eight years of me getting blown up and lugging shit all across the countryside.”

“I heard that.”

“Good.”

(Y/N) grabs her empty mug from her work table and stalks down to the kitchen. Sue is sitting at the bar when she walks in. She waves in lieu of a greeting and keeps her eyes trained on the tablet in her hand.

(Y/N) pours herself a cup of coffee and stares down at the full mug. The realization of what the rest of the day might hold hits her and she’s just about ready to give up. She tips her head back, covers her face, and groans.

“I think your husband’s trying to kill me.”

“Well that’s nothing new,” Sue says. “What’d he do this time?”

“He wants to test that interdimensional transport he’s been working on. I have a bad feeling about it, but I don’t have the knowledge to back it up, so he’s just brushing my concerns to the side.”

“Well that doesn’t sound good.”

“He always ignores me. And every single time, I’m the one caught in the blast. Literally.”

“I know, (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) dumps sugar and cream into her coffee and sighs. “If I don’t come back from the lab today, Reed did it.”

“Duck and cover if something starts sparking.”

“We’ll see if I even get the chance.”

(Y/N) takes her coffee, drains half the mug in one go, and goes back to the lab.

Reed doesn’t seem to have noticed her absence, so she simply takes herself and her coffee to her table and waits for instructions.

“It’s not supposed to make that noise, right?”

“It is not,” Reed confirms.

The thunking noise coming from the transport grows louder and (Y/N) resists the urge to rub her temples. Reed doesn’t appear to be particularly concerned as he stretches across the length of the lab, searching for the source of the sound.

“Something must be loose,” (Y/N) says. “Is it on the body?”

“Not that I can see.” A sheet of metal shears off of one of the machine’s rotating arms and (Y/N) yanks him back just far enough that it misses slicing off his nose. “Thank you.”

“So something’s wrong with the arms,” (Y/N) posits. “The most dangerous part of the machine.”

“It would seem so.”

“I vote we turn it off and try again next week.”

“We don’t know if that’s enough to hinder its performance.”

“It’s enough to hinder our performance as living, breathing people.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Reed creeps closer to his machine and (Y/N) cringes at the way she immediately follows behind.

“It’s securely locked away with the part of me that wanted to be a superhero.” She pulls him out of the way of another flying scrap of machine. “Because, contrary to popular opinion, just because I heal quickly doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt when I’m injured.”

“Hm, maybe we should look at that when we’re finished here.”

“Maybe you should find a new assistant when we’re finished here.”

Reed says something about her not being any fun, but she doesn’t register any of it. Her eyes are drawn to sparking near the base of the machine. Another chunk goes flying at them just as some of the sparks are sucked into the vent below the arms. (Y/N) is struck by the flying machine chunk as she shields Reed from it. She winces and hears an unidentifiable function of the transport stutter as another plume of sparks is sucked into the vent. She grabs as much of Reed’s body as she can and throws him towards the door, limbs flapping behind him, right as the entire machine explodes.

The force of the explosion propels Reed out into the hallway, but (Y/N) is caught in the blast. There’s a bright white flash and a blood-curdling scream and then all that’s left is the fire.

Sue is sprinting up the hallway with Ben and Johnny on her heels just as Reed manages to get his feet under himself again. All he can do is stare.

“What happened?” Sue demands. “Where is (Y/N)?”

“She saw what was happening before I did. She threw me out of the lab, but…”

“Reed,” Sue’s voice is deadly low. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t listen,” he says. “The transport malfunctioned and (Y/N) was caught in the blast.”

“Johnny,” Sue is very careful to keep her voice steady. “Put out the fire.”

Johnny simply does as he’s told. He disappears into the fire to absorb what he can and stomp out the rest. Ben surveys the progress from just outside the doorway. He says something about calling Peter and Johnny agrees from somewhere deeper in the lab.

“I screwed up, Sue.”

“No, Reed, you killed our friend. Your employee, might I add. And not even two hours ago she said you were trying to kill her.”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything of the sort.”

“I know that, but you get so blinded by your work that you can’t see when you’re putting people in danger.”

Johnny appears in the darkened doorway of the lab, tears rising in steam from his cheeks. “She was my friend, Reed.”

“I know-”

“She took this job because I begged her to!” Johnny shoves Reed, hard, into the wall. Flames lick at his fingers and Ben gently separates him from Reed. “But now she’s gone and I can’t even find her body in that warzone you call a lab.”

Reed frowns. "You didn't find her body?"

"Wh-that’s what you’re focusing on?

“Answer the question, Johnny.”

He scowls. “No, I didn’t find her. She was probably incinerated."

"Are you sure you didn't overlook anything?"

Johnny's shoulders shake with his anger. "I know what charred human remains look like, Reed. She's. Not. There."

Reed raises one shaking hand to his forehead and turns to Sue. “It might’ve worked.”

“What?”

“The transport. If there’s no body-” he rushes past Johnny and Ben without another word. Sue follows silently after him.

“That’s it, I think he finally lost his marbles,” Ben mutters.

“It doesn’t change the fact that he killed (Y/N).” Johnny wipes his eyes and turns to follow Reed to the lap. “God, Peter’s gonna flip when he finds out.”

“Don’t think about that right now,” Ben says.

“Hard not to,” he mumbles.

“I know but, if Reed’s machine did work, she could still be out there.”

“What if this is the time she doesn’t heal? You see how burnt it is in there. How could anyone survive that?”

“Dunno, but (Y/N)’s strong. If anyone could do it, it’d be her.”

Sue reappears in the doorway. Her hands and feet are covered in ash.

“There’s no sign of her,” she says. “We sifted through everything we could. There’s only a spot with slightly less ash than the rest of the room.”

“So you think Reed’s transport worked?” Johnny asks.

“I don’t know what to think. For everyone’s peace of mind, I hope it did. Then we might have a chance to track her down and bring her home.”

Johnny nods and drags his hands through his hair. “I have to make a call.”

Sue rubs his arm and nods. Johnny stalks off down the hall.

“Boss, there’s a disturbance in the electrical field in your lab.”

“Any extra information on that?”

“Based on the readings, it seems that someone may be teleporting directly into the tower.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s the best word I could find.”

Tony frowns. “I’m headed up now. Find Steve and have him meet me there.”

“Of course, boss.”

Steve is already in the lab when Tony arrives, pacing along the far side of the room. There’s a bright ball of light forming in the middle of the lab and Steve’s eyes don’t stray from that spot as he moves, even when Tony strides through the door. Tony just stops and stares at the light.

“How long has that been here?” Tony asks.

“It was here when I walked in.” Steve squints at the light. “What is it?”

“Not sure. F.R.I.D.A.Y. says someone’s trying to teleport into the tower.”

“Teleport?” Tony nods. “Does that kind of tech actually exist?”

“Not that I know of, but we’ve seen some pretty weird shit in the last ten years. It’d be stupid to just write it off.”

Steve stops pacing and jerks his chin towards the light. “Looks like it’s getting bigger.”

The ball of light slowly, steadily expands. When it’s about as wide as Steve is tall the lab fills with a terrible, painful scream and the light grows too bright for either man to keep their eyes open. The scream grows louder and Steve tries to shield his eyes in an attempt to find where the noise is coming from, but to no avail. Then, suddenly, the screaming stops and the light disappears followed by a distinctly sticky thud.

Tony rubs his eyes and Steve blinks light spots from his vision, willing his eyes to adjust to the room again. When they do, he visibly recoils from the vaguely human shaped mass of burned flesh on the tile in front of him.

"Oh God," he says. "Is that a person?"

----------

Part 2

How’s that for a first chapter? I’ll be very honest, I’m excited to finally be posting this one. It’s been a bit of a brainchild of mine for the better part of a year and a half at this point, maybe more. Pandemic time doesn’t work right.

As always, I’d love to know what you thought of this chapter! What do you think of the reader? Her relationship with Reed and the rest of the FF? What do you think will happen in the next chapter? Be sure to reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

Tag List:

#steve rogersxreader #readerxsteve rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers #steverogersxreader #readerxsteverogers #the other boi #reader insert fanfiction

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