murvelle

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P11

gif: @netals

18+

The Red Skulls finally meet their retribution.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Reader, mature themes, kidnapping, violence, threat, use of weapons inc. guns, injury, blood, minor character deaths, angst, fluff.

Series Masterlist

a/n: please take this incredibly (almost two years) late update as my valentine's gift to you.

"We got a big day ahead of us, Drifters. And Howlers. It's gonna be tough. It's gonna be brutal. Some us may get hurt. But today is also a special day, because today, our youngest Drifter has finally turned eighteen," Bruce announces with the attention of every single person in the bar on him. "Peter! You better finish that damn whiskey!"

With a grimace, Peter gulps down the liquor that Frank hands to him, while everyone cheers him on. Once he's finished it, Peter slams the empty glass onto the counter, shaking his head.

"Alright, alright, we'll have plenty of time to celebrate once we have Y/N back with us," Bruce says loudly, holding his hands up. "Today, Peter, you become a man. You may have been too young to get involved in the war, but you'll be fighting right alongside us tonight."

The room cheers for him, but everyone knows there's a bigger job at hand. Soon, everyone's packing up, preparing for the big fight. Steve's checking through rifles alongside Peter, who has a tense look on his face.

"What's wrong, kid?" Steve asks him with a raised brow. "Nervous for tonight?"

"Not really," Peter admits in response. "It's just... I have a friend, and I haven't seen her for a few days. Just worried."

"Oh," Steve utters, nodding. "She a Drifter?"

"Kinda. By association, I guess," Peter tells him before huffing. "It's just... you know, it's my birthday, and MJ always comes over in the morning on my birthday, but the last time we spoke, we got in a really bad fight. The worst fight we've ever had, and she hasn't picked up my calls since."

"This MJ," Steve begins, turning to face him. "She a friend, or a girlfriend?"

Timidly, Peter shrugs his shoulders. "I guess, somewhere in the middle?" He offers.

Steve places a firm hand on his shoulder and gives him a stern look. "A little word of advice, son: make it official as soon as you can. You don't wanna lose a good woman, and doing that is a lot easier than it sounds," He says curtly.

Taking in his words, Peter nods quickly. "Okay, Sir," He replies, his eyes wide.

"Don't worry," Steve iterates. "She'll come back around. And when she does, you know you're gonna do everything you can to keep a smile on her face and keep her safe." His words make him think of you, and his chest aches at the thought of you being in danger because of him.

"Stevie, you coming?" Yelena interjects with a raised brow, holding up a bag of ammo before slyly grinning. "I'm ready to destroy some Red Skull brains."

"Alright, what's the plan?" You ask Wade while loading one of the guns he gave you.

"I was kinda hoping you'd come up with one," He replies with a wince, to which you glare at him.

"Are you being fucking-"

"Relax, Hot Wheels!" He cuts you off, glancing out the window through the blinds. "The Mutants have a clear goal tonight - end the Red Skulls. What's there to plan?"

Trying not to get too frustrated with him, you tell yourself to trust Wade and the others, knowing they're on your side. The Mutants are more than competent, and the Red Skulls admitted to you themselves that they're short on weapons and resources.

The first part of the plan is to kill the Skulls currently waiting outside Wade's office. Jasper, your fake fiancé, and Blackbeard, the wannabe pirate, are under the assumption that you're here to fuck Wade to persuade him to give the Skulls weapons. Billy gave you a short dress to wear along with a pair of heels one size too small for you, which means you aren't exactly dressed for a fight. Thankfully, Wade is prepped for this situation.

"Here," He says, tossing you a pair of his overworn, grey cargo pants, black shoes, and a black hoodie. You can't exactly complain, so you hold back your grimace and pull on the pants first, then kick off the tight heels and put on the sneakers that are a few sizes too big. Turning to the side, you take off the dress before replacing it with the hoodie, knowing Wade is definitely taking the opportunity to stare at your bra-covered chest but not caring enough to try harder to hide it.

Unable to stop being so him, Wade saunters over with a smug look on his face. "Hey," He begins while you pick up a dagger from the desk and wonder where the best place to put it might be. Wade looks you up and down, raising a brow before continuing, "Remember when we were younger and we used to fool around?"

Knowing where he's about to go, you give him a straight-faced look. "Can it, Wilson."

"I'm just saying - we might not get to see another day if shit hits the fan tonight," He says defensively as his eyes hungrily scan your body. "This might be our last day on Earth. Don't you wanna go out with a bang?"

With an unamused look, you pull on the strings of the pants around your waist and tighten them. "I have a boyfriend," You remind him curtly.

He shrugs and asks, "Is it serious?"

You quickly bring the dagger up to his neck and glare up at him. "Deadly."

Holding his hands up in surrender, Wade steps back. "Alright, alright," He gives up, before quickly adding, "Call me when it goes bad."

You roll your eyes and try to focus on getting as many weapons on your person as possible, but your mind can't help but stray to Steve. What's he doing right now? How long did it take him to notice your absence? Have Bucky and Peggy finally got what they wanted?

"Might have already," You mumble after a few moments. Wade looks confused, so you add, "Gone bad, I mean."

"Why do you say that?" He asks, frowning while looking through the scope on the sniper rifle in his hands.

Looking down, you lower your voice. "He's the reason I'm here," You utter.

Wade immediately looks at you with narrow eyes. "What?"

"Well, his friends are," You clarify. "They hate me because they're in love with him, so they gave me up to Billy Rumlow. I don't know if Steve even knows yet. I don't know what twisted story they've given him about me being a Red Skull."

"Would he believe them?" Wade questions you. "If they told him you willingly left? That you've been a Skull this whole time?"

Taking a few moments to think about it, you sigh. After everything you've been through, everything Steve's said to you, all the ways he's proven himself to you... can you really doubt him?

"No," You finally decide, confident in your answer. "He wouldn't. He trusts me, and I trust him."

"How sweet," Wade mumbles bitterly, before his face drops and he cocks his gun. "Now, let's go cave in some Skulls."

War comes back to you like riding a bike. Though it's been a long time since you've fought, you handle a gun like it's barely been a day.

The Mutants are good fighters, but their numbers are nothing compared to the Red Skulls. You can feel your side weakening, but you don't let that knock your confidence.

"How you holding up, kid?" Logan asks you while you catch your breath, clutching your left shoulder.

"Good. I'm good," You claim with a wince.

"Yeah? That bullet didn't hurt?" He asks with a raised brow.

You look down to your hand which is covered in your blood and grit your teeth as pure pain pulses through your arm. "Nah. I'm bulletproof," You assure him with a smirk, hoping he can't tell you're inwardly screaming in agony.

"Can you still go on?" Logan asks with a look of concern as he peers around the corner. He shoots at someone before turning back to you. "I can get someone to take you back."

"No. I'm fine," You insist stubbornly, taking in a deep breath. "I started this, and I'm gonna end it."

"How adorably honorable," A deep voice booms from behind, making you jump. You don't need to look at him to know it's Billy. You twist your neck to the left and, lo and behold, it's him. Blood coats his clothing, some dried and some still fresh. A few small wounds on his body tell you that most of it isn't his own.

Ignoring the way your entire body is aching, you stand up to your feet. Before you can get a word out, Logan all but sprints at Billy with a wild yell. You have no time to react and before Logan can land a hit, Billy punches him clean in the head.

"Fuck!" You can't help but cry out, flinching as Logan's body hits the ground. With no time to figure out whether or not he's breathing, you lift up your gun to aim it at Billy, but the large man is already storming over to you. He slaps the weapon out of your hand before grabbing you by the throat and dragging you onto the desert road where he shoves you into the back of a black van. With a sly grin, he slams the doors shut.

This can't be how it ends. You're deeply disappointed in yourself for letting him capture you. Kicking and screaming, you pound your fists on the doors, but it's clear there's no one with any sympathy for you listening.

You feel the engine of the van come to life.

Wade's had better days.

With a groan, he pulls his knife out of the man under him with a squelch and gets up to his feet. It feels like the fight is coming to an end, but it doesn't feel like he's winning. With a twisted ankle weakening him with every step he takes as shots of pain fire through his leg, he grimaces and limps out of the shot-up bar.

There are still plenty of soldiers on both sides fighting. Wade looks around the desert, looking for you, but he comes up empty. Shit. Are we losing right now?

He stealthily makes his way over to the pile of barrels, thinking it'll make a good sniper point for him to camp out at. When he gets there, it seems someone else had the same idea.

"Shit!" Logan hisses as Wade's heavy boot lands on his fingers. "You stupid fucking prick!"

With a rush of relief, Wade falls to his knees and wraps his arms around the man. "You're alive!" He gushes, kissing his cheek multiple times. "I'm so fucking happy to see you, dude. I was scared I lost you!"

"Please. You think a little scuffle with some Red Skulls is how I plan to go out?" Logan scoffs with offence.

Lying on his stomach next to him, Wade aims his rifle outwards, resting it between the gaps of two barrels. "Tell me you've seen Hot Wheels in the last five minutes?" He says, trying not to sound desperate but failing. "If she's dead, Big Bruce will kill me."

"She's alive," Logan replies. "I think. Billy found us here. He knocked me out and by the time I came to, they were both gone. I figure, if either of them died, their body would still be here. So my guess is, he's taken her."

"Shit. This wasn't supposed to be a game of Capture the Flag," Wade groans. "The fuck are we gonna do?"

"I don't know, but it looks like a lot more bodies are joining this fight," Logan mutters as he looks out to the distance where multiple trucks and bikes are approaching. "I hope those are our reinforcements."

Following his gaze, Wade feels his guts churn. "I didn't call anyone," He says, shaking his head. "If those are more Red Skulls, we are absolutely fucked."

Logan turns to look at the nervous man next to him. "You bring any grenades?"

Wade scoffs. "The fuck? I thought this was gonna be a simple gunfight. I didn't expect it to go on this long - I thought they barely had any resources to their name?"

"Maybe they called up a few friends," Logan suggests as the vehicles get closer.

"The Red Skulls have no friends," Wade points out bitterly. "Well, this is out. C'mon. Fuck hiding. Let's go out in a blaze of glory."

The two men get up to their feet and hold hands as they walk out to no-man's-land. Accepting their fate, and happy to die as martys, they watch as the bikes rapidly approach.

"Hey man, I've never told you this, but I love you," Wade says, lifting up his gun and aiming it at the newcomers.

Logan lets out a sigh. "I love you too, Wilson," He replies stoicly.

Wade's eyes flicker to the side. "Also, while we're admitting things, I, uh, regularly jerk off while thinking about you," He says bluntly. "Not- not in a sexual way. I just really admire you, you know? I look up to you, dude."

His eye twitches, but Logan does his best to remain calm and straight-faced, deciding not to react to what he just heard. Instead, he zeroes in on the emblem painted on the side of the oncoming trucks. "Hold on... Wilson, I don't think those are Red Skulls," He says with widening eyes.

Wade gasps as he recognizes the driver in the closest truck. "That - that's fucking Big Bruce! And Pepper!" He cheers, putting down his gun and waving his arms wildly. "Fuck, yeah! Drifters!"

On their way onto the battlefield, the Drifters and Commandos decimate the remaining Red Skulls with a shower of bullets. Wade and Logan watch with twisted glee as their saviors reach them. The blond is first off his bike, immediately storming over to the two men. There's a fierce look in his eyes as he approaches them, making Wade think he must be the Steve you're so obsessed with. A couple of Red Skulls try to attack him but he quickly beats them down, ruthlessly ending them both. Wade hardly blames you for being so obsessed as he gets a proper look at Steve, if that is him. The words that are hissed from the blond's mouth only confirm Wade's thoughts.

"Where is she?"

You've come to the realization that you don't like being held against your will. Up until last week, you never had been, but starting with Bucky's and Peggy's capture, you've never caught a break since.

"How stupid are you?" Billy spits bitterly. "I gave you one order. All you hadda do was secure the deal with the Mutants, but you had to screw us over, just like you screwed us over all those years ago."

Tired of his voice, you lean your head back against the cold, concrete wall. "What is this, Rumlow? Just kill me if you hate me that much," You say with a defeated tone. "I'm the bane of your life. I ruined everything for you and the Red Skulls. So, just kill me."

A smile slowly grows on his lips as he moves closer to where you're sitting on the floor, putting you on edge. "That would be far too easy for you, honey," He snarls, crouching down to your level. Reaching his hand out, he begins to stroke your cheek, making you cringe. "See, you destroyed my legacy. Turned my own blood against me. You're the reason I lost a lot of good men. And now I can't even strike a deal with a decent weapons seller because of how you tarnished my name," He says, his voice oddly gentle, but slowly turning into a sneer. "So, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you. You're going to marry Jasper. You're going to be a subordinate wife, and daughter-in-law." He moves closer still, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You'll be nothing more than a baby-making machine. How it should be. Sensible. Well-behaved. Controlled."

You can't hear your own breath over the sound of his, but you're not sure you're breathing, anyway. Somehow, he's not only articulated your worst nightmare but threatened to make it come true, too.

"I hope you've enjoyed your years of freedom, Drifter," Billy goes on to say with a smirk. "You've caused a lot of chaos and pain with it. It's only right that I snuff it out."

Your hands are tied to a thick metal pole to your left, but your legs sit free beneath you. They twitch as you fantasize about killing him with a hard kick to the head. Probably not very realistic, but the image of it pleases you. So much so, that you do your best to bring it to life. With a rushed intake of air through your nose, you lift up your leg and boot your thick-soled shoe, courtesy of Wade, directly onto his face. Billy instantly falls backwards, covering his gushing nose with his hands as he groans loudly.

"You fucking bitch!" He yells as he writhes on the ground for a few seconds, breathing heavily. Seeing another opportunity to inflict pain, you kick your leg forward again, this time delivering a blow to his crotch. The cry he lets out this time is much more high-pitched, making you grin sadistically. It's not usual for you to take pleasure in seeing an old man in pain, but when he deserves it as much as Billy Rumlow does, it's a joyous sight indeed.

With a grunt, he gets back up to his feet before storming over to you. You kick your legs out wildly but he grabs them, pure fury on his face. He throws them against the wall, causing a sharp pain to shoot through them both as you grit your teeth together. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out in pain. Not even when he's delivering blow after blow to your face, yelling out curse words.

Just as you think you're about to pass out, there's a banging sound outside the warehouse. Billy stands up straight, giving you a break from assault, with a confused frown on his face. Whoever just joined you definitely wasn't invited.

Heavy footsteps as well as a familiar whistling sound out, making your stomach flip.

"Goddamn, Billy, this really where you operate?" The voice calls out, and you can almost hear the cocky grin splayed on the owner's face. "I was expecting much better from you."

Suddenly, the door to the small room you're being held in slams opens and crashes against the wall. The blood from the wound on your head drips into your eyes, making them sting, but you can't afford to close them and miss this.

"What the fuck?" Billy utters, looking at the intruder as if he's a ghost. And well, Billy might actually think it is a ghost, seeing as Brock Rumlow died almost a decade ago.

"Hello, Uncle," Brock greets him with a wiry grin as he steps into the room, toothpick hanging from his lips and rifle resting on his shoulder. Your heart soars at the sight, though you're almost as confused as Billy to see Brock here.

"You- you should be dead," Billy says, staggering backwards. "How are you-"

"Shut the fuck up," Brock cuts him off coldly. He takes a glance at you and his gaze hardens. "You never could leave us alone, could you? Always had to interject yourself in our lives, and look where it's got you."

Billy takes one look at the gun on his nephew's shoulder and his eyebrow twitches as he tries to keep his cool. "Ain't nothing honorable about faking your death and running from your family. Abandoning your duties," He says lowly. "How about you try and retain whatever shred of dignity you have, and we settle this like real men?"

With a cocky shrug, Brock drops his rifle on the ground and takes a few steps further into the room. "Fine by me, Billy," He says, tapping his cheek. "Here: I'll even let you take the first hit."

"You smarmy little fucker!" Billy yells as he pounds over to Brock and immediately throws a punch. As he promised, Brock lets him have it, but as soon as he recovers from the hit, there's a new look in his eyes. It's almost primal. This is a fight to the death.

You watch on, wincing whenever Brock catches a hard blow. It's a fairly equal fight, and you have to admit that you're impressed Billy can keep up with someone 20 years his junior. As the battle heats up, the faint sound of bikes gets louder and louder. You're hoping it's back-up for Brock, but judging by the slight relief that blooms on Billy's face, you're worried it's not.

"You're really fucked now, kid," He sneers as he slams Brock's head into the pipe your hands are tied to. "But don't worry - I'll let your girlfriend live. She'll make a lovely bride for Jasper, just like she did for you. However brief your marriage was."

Brock spits blood out at his uncle before snorting. "Jasper? That wimp can't hold his own against a puppy, let alone her," He chuckles, a flash of fear jetting across his eyes as the sound of multiple bikers entering the warehouse fills the room. With a huff, Brock kicks Billy onto his back before rushing over to you and untying you.

"What are you doing here?" You ask him with a hiss. "As grateful as I am, you should be halfway across the world!"

Brock just smiles at you, despite how painful it is for him to do so with all the cuts on his face, thanks to Billy's obnoxious rings. "Your boyfriend can be pretty persuasive when he's angry," He says cryptically, pulling the rope off your sore wrists. "As soon as I heard Billy had you, I couldn't stay away. It didn't feel right to let you end this fight alone, when it's me that started it with you all those years ago. Here," He gives you a pistol, which you're thankful for as Billy made sure to take all your weapons when he captured you.

"Thank you, Brock," You whisper as he helps you to your feet. "Now, let's end this."

He grins at your words. "You still as good a fighter as you used to be?"

With a shrug, you take the safety off the pistol. "We're about to find out."

At least eight men rush into the room. Billy is taken over to the side by two of them who make sure he's breathing, leaving you and Brock to take on the remaining six. The first guy goes down easy but the second grabs your gun off you. You evade the first bullet he fires by ducking, and grab the large knife in his waistband while you're there before straightening your back and plunging it in his chest. He falls to the ground with a grunt. You don't have time to pry your gun from his dying hands as the third man is now on you, doing his best to pin you down. It's clear that they've been given instructions not to kill you, which makes it somewhat easier to kill them.

Brock plows through his three assailants with ease, picking his rifle back up from the ground once they're all down. Without hesitation, he puts bullets in the heads of the two trying to drag a weak Billy out of the room. With that, the henchmen are defeated.

It's as if the next minute happens in slow motion.

All you know for sure is that Brock aimed his gun at Billy first. What you aren't sure about, though, is who fired first.

Billy's dead on impact. Brock's bullet proudly sits in his forehead. Brock, however falls to the ground, clutching his stomach from which blood is pouring out at an alarming rate.

"No," You whimper, falling to your knees and cradling his head. "No, no, no. Stay with me, Brock."

He lets out a grunt, still managing to give you a weak smile. "Hey, Pretty Drifter," He mumbles weakly, outstretching his hand and gently stroking your hair. "This ain't a bad final view. Blood included; makes you even hotter."

"Shut it, Rumlow, you're gonna be fine," You say sternly, rocking back and forth nervously. "I just need to get you on one of these assholes' bikes, then I can take you to a hospital."

As the blood continues streaming out of his body, his face slowly pales. "Don't bother, Drifter, I ain't lasting much longer," He says, trying his best to hide how much pain he's in. "But look on the bright side: at least now, we don't have to get divorced."

"No!" You cry as your eyes sting and your stomach aches. "Don't you dare take the easy way out. I wanna divorce you properly. I want a lengthy court process - I want alimony!"

He chuckles as best he can, holding onto your hands which are placed to his bullet wound. His blood coats both your hands and his. "He's a good guy. Rogers. Really loves you. I'm- I'm glad to be leaving you in his hands," Brock chokes out his words.

"You're not leaving me!" You tell him curtly, shaking your head. "I thought I lost you once already. I can't mourn you again, Brock, I can't."

A shaky breath leaves his mouth. He tightens his grip on your hands. "I'll be with you. I'll be in the stars, next to your ma, and Vinnie," He promises. "You know, they'd be so proud of you."

With that, you burst into tears. "Screw you, Rumlow!"

Brock laughs, and it's the last time he smiles. "I love you, Pretty Drifter. See you later," He utters, before his eyes flutter shut.

You don't have much time to cry as soon, the sound of engines and bikes once again reaches your ears. More Red Skulls, you think bitterly to yourself. With a huff, you stand up, taking Brock's rifle with you as leave the warehouse. The early evening sun warms your blood-covered skin as you stand tall and proud, ready to gun down as many of them as possible. You count four, five, six trucks, and twice as many bikes. Shit. Well, you may be going down, but you won't be going down easy.

Aiming your rifle at the closest bike, you take in a deep breath as you prepare yourself for more pain than ever. You're surprised they haven't started shooting yet - you guess they assume Billy's still alive and thus, so is his order to keep you breathing as Jasper's future wife.

You look through the scope of the rifle so you can get a better aim, wanting to get a clean headshot. When you do, however, you realizing that these aren't Red Skulls at all. Is that... Druig? And Frank? And-

"Steve," You breathe out with wide eyes, lowering the gun as he races over to you. He harshly brakes a few metres away before jumping off his bike and sprinting over to you, tackling you in the tightest hug you've ever been a part of. And the most painful.

"Shit, sorry, fif," He whispers when he hears you wince. He looks you up and down, concern filling his eyes. You're covered in blood, most of it your own, and you're slightly swaying.

"Steve," You repeat, in slight disbelief. He's got a few of his own wounds, though they're nothing compared to yours. He's been fighting. He came to fight. He came for you.

"There she is!" Frank whoops with a wide grin as the rest of them leave their vehicles.

It's too much to take in at once. The family you haven't seen in years, and the love of your life holding you in his big arms while stars fill your view. Stars? At this time of day? Steve's talking, but his voice sounds far away. Before you can ask him to repeat himself, you black out.

It feels surreal to be sitting on the same roof you'd sit on every day after school when you were a kid. Back then, you'd be accompanied by Pepper as she ranted about the latest fight she was having with her best-friend-slash-worst-enemy or the most recent date she had with whichever unfortunate soul she had in her clutches at the time. Or you might've instead snuck Brock over, the two of you drinking stolen whisky from Vinnie's stash while planning the rest of your lives. Tonight, though, you're alone. You can hear everyone talking and laughing in the backyard from where you are, which gives you comfort. Music plays and the smell of barbecue drifts up to you, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe.

Though you're enjoying the solace, you're not mad to hear footsteps climbing up the stairs to the roof. You sit back, taking a long sip of beer as you stare out at the stars which seem to be shining a little brighter than usual.

"Thought you'd be up here."

You smile as Pepper takes a seat next to you. "Best seat in the house."

She takes your beer and has a sip while nudging your shoulder playfully. "That Steve of yours is a sweetheart," She says. "How in the hell did you end up with someone like that?"

Confused, you raise a brow. "What? You wanted me to settle down with a mean bastard?"

"No, but I definitely expected you to," She admits. "The men we usually meet in this line of work are rough, and horrible."

"He can be rough when he wants to be," You tell her, and when you realize how that sounds, you shoot her a wink.

"Gross!" She exclaims, nudging you harder before she bites her lip. "And, uh, what's that Tony guy like?"

Immediately knowing why she's asking, you laugh heartily. "My God, Pep, you'd eat him alive!" You say before adding, "But he'd probably be into that."

"You think?" She asks, grinning. "By the way, Bruce said he was giving Natasha a tour of the clubhouse, but I haven't seen either of them for an hour."

"Gross," You grimace, shaking your head as you laugh again. "So everybody's partnering up?"

"Looks like it," She says, before resting her head on your shoulder. "He's doing really well, giving you space, but you're really mean for not being with him right now."

You let out long sigh. "It's been a long week, and a long, long day. I just needed to clear my head. I missed him so much," You realize just how much you miss him as the words leave your mouth. "I need to talk to him."

"I'll send him up," Pepper says, giving you a quick hug. "Don't screw it up. I know his friends fucked you over, but this guy's a gem. Very rare to find a guy like him, you know."

"I know, Pep," You assure her. "Thank you."

Not five minutes later, Steve's replaced her presence on the roof.

You open your arms as he climbs up the stairs, and he quickly rushes over to you before engulfing you in his arms. For a few peaceful moments, the two of you rock back and forth gently, kissing and cuddling and whispering sweet nothings to one another.

"Sorry for being so antisocial," You begin. "I just-"

"You don't need to explain yourself," He cuts in gently, rubbing your back. "I missed you so much, fifty-three. This week's felt like a year."

"It has," You whisper, clutching onto his jacket. "So much has happened. John- fuck, John."

"They're saying it was drug-related," He tells you. "Apparently, they found coke in his office. A lot of it. Nothing else besides his body was found at the scene. No traces of you, or anyone else."

You let out a heavy sigh. "I know he was a jackass, but he didn't deserve to die," You say, resting your head against his chest. "And Brock... shit."

Steve's grip around you tightens. "I am so sorry, fif," He says lowly. "If it wasn't for Peggy and Buck, none of this would have happened. As soon as I found out what they did-"

"Please tell me she's still alive," You say curtly. "Tell me I get the satisfaction of fucking her up for what she did."

His eyes flicker down to meet yours. "Tasha fucked her up pretty good," He tells you. "Sent her packing back to England after beating her to within an inch of her life."

That provides you with some contentment, though you really would have preferred to have done it yourself. "Buck still breathing?" You ask him.

Steve looks out to the stars. "As much as I wanted to, I couldn't kill him. I know he fucked up, but we grew up together. He was... I thought he was my brother," He says, making you wince.

"I'm sorry," You sigh. "I don't... I don't know why they did it. I mean, I know why. Because they loved you. I just don't know why they felt the need to destroy me for loving you, too."

"They thought they were protecting me," Steve mutters bitterly. "Buck's moved down South. Got him working at one of Howard's factories. I don't want him dead, but I also don't want him anywhere near you, ever again."

Your fingers intertwine with his. At the end of a traumatic week, being in his embrace feels like heaven. Yes, your entire body aches, and it'll be a while before you can walk straight again, but none of that matters. Not when you're with him.

"I'm pretty sure Peter's planning on proposing to MJ tonight, by the way," He informs you, making you sit up.

"I am not missing that," You say, quickly getting up to your feet.

"Hold on," He calls out as he stands up, pulling your body flush against his. Leaning down, he cups your face in his hand, being careful not to graze the cut on your chin. "I love you, fifty-three. Always."

Smiling up at him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I love you, Steve," You reply, your voice barely above a whisper. The stars twinkle in the night sky behind him, mirroring the shine of his blue eyes. He smiles back down at you. And without wasting another minute, he kisses you.

... the end!

guys. i'm so sorry it took me almost two years to complete this but i'm so fucking happy that i actually managed to get around to it. this is a story i LOVED writing and it's been so much fun exploring these characters.

while the main story is now complete, i am most definitely planning on continuing to write for biker!steve and his fiffy. let me know if there are any one shots you'd like me to write for them :)

thank you to anyone who actually stuck around long enough to see this through with me. you're all eternally lovely.

xoxo

kinny

p.s. if you'd like to kindly support me, you can buy me a kofi <3

#sobbing #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #biker!steve #series

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P10

gif: @lilacevans

18+

The Red Skulls finally have you in their clutches, but Steve won't let it be that easy for them to keep you there.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Reader, mature themes, angst, smoking, violence, threat, kidnapping, allusion to childhood physical abuse, mention of sex.

Series Masterlist

"We have to think about this, Steve," Thor says gravely as he watches him load the back of Tony's truck with guns. "Slow down."

"Thor's right," Natasha chimes in with a concerned frown. "I know the instinct is to get to her as soon as possible, but we can't just ambush the Red Skulls and hope to win. They're bigger now, and more powerful."

Ignoring their pleas, Steve turns to Natasha with a blank look. "Is Yelena here yet?" He asks her curtly.

"Damn right I am!" The blonde calls out, a rifle in each of her hands as she strides over to Steve. "I brought the blasters you asked for, and all the ammo you could possibly need."

Finally faced with someone who cares as much about your wellbeing as he does, Steve gives her a grateful nod. "Thank you, Yellow," He mumbles, taking the guns and putting them in the truck.

With a frustrated huff, Natasha grabs Steve by the bicep and glares up at him. "You're not thinking straight, Rogers. I want Y/N back too, but this is not how we go about it," She warns him. "We are in no position to attack another gang right now, much less on their turf. Compared to the Skulls, our numbers and resources are abysmal. We're not prepared for a war, which is exactly what this will become - this is not how you get your Drifter back."

Steve's stomach drops and his heart aches at her words. Deep down, he knows she's right, but what the fuck else is he supposed to do? You've been taken by someone who wants you dead and is known for his sadism; he can't just give up on you. On his girl. His Drifter.

Wait.

Recognizing the glint in his widening eyes, Thor frowns. "What are you thinking there, mate?" He asks him.

Walking backwards, Steve looks at the three of them with a new hope on his features. "Get on your fastest bikes, Howlers," He orders them as the corner of his mouth tugs upwards. "We're going to Detroit."

"Can I have a cigarette?"

Blackbeard raises a brow at you, saying nothing. You stand up from the bed, only able to walk a few steps closer to him due to the chain latched onto your wrist.

"C'mon, guy; I can see the carton sticking out your back pocket," You say with a hint of irritation.

He looks you up and down, his thick moustache twitching as he speaks. "Y'don't seem the type to smoke," He grumbles.

A sigh leaves your mouth. "It's Drifter tradition to smoke a cigar when someone dies, and that's the closest thing to a cigar I'm gonna get around here," You explain with a shrug. Though John wasn't exactly family, you can't help but feel responsible for his death, so you feel as though you owe it to him to show some respect. Granted, he'd have hated being subjected to a biker tradition, but he ain't here to complain. You could also really do with a cigarette.

Blackbeard stares you down for a few moments before rolling his eyes and reaching back to pull out the carton and a lighter, making you grin.

It's been less than 24 hours since Billy brought you here, but you're bored out of your mind already. He put you in a bedroom with Blackbeard keeping watch, chaining you to the nightstand, and you haven't seen or heard from him since.

You're halfway through the cigarette when the door opens. In walks Billy, raising a brow when he sees you blowing out smoke before glancing at Blackbeard who holds his hands up in surrender. "She wouldn't quit asking, boss," He explains bashfully.

Billy rolls his eyes before walking over to you, taking the cigarette from your hand, taking a puff from it and tossing the rest to the ground before crushing it under his boot.

"I wasn't done with that," You mutter through gritted teeth.

"You're not on vacation, sunshine," He replies coldly, before tilting his head. Reaching out, he strokes your cheek, immediately making you lurch backwards while he mumbles, "I thought you were pretty at eighteen, but goddamn."

You cringe at his words, shooting him the dirtiest look you can muster.

"Say, you remember any of your old friends?" He asks teasingly, before whistling as though calling a dog. In walk a few familiar faces, the nostalgia making you shiver while he names them. "You remember my son, Jasper, and our number guy, Zemo."

You snort, quirking a brow. "Not many numbers for him to be working with, these days," You murmur smugly.

Enraged, Billy grabs your face tightly in his hands and pulls you closer. "And whose fault is that, huh?" He yells, specks of his saliva landing on your face. "It took us seven years to get back on our feet again after the war you caused. Seven years. That's how much damage you caused us."

"Our very own Helen of Troy," Zemo comments lowly with his eyes trained on you.

"Vinnie would be proud," You say arrogantly.

"That you're whoring yourself out to the Commandos?" Billy asks you with a scoff, letting go of your face and stepping back.

"The Drifters and the Howlin' Commandos never had any issues," You clarify for him. "In fact, Vinnie and Joseph Rogers got along pretty well."

Billy nods slowly while a glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. "Yeah, I remember," He tells you. "Your mom got along with Joseph whenever he was visiting, too."

You roll your eyes and laugh. "You don't know shit," You say, entirely amused.

"Think they ever fucked?" He asks you with a sordid smirk. "Think he's your daddy?"

You're baffled by his attempt to rattle you, and you can do is smile. "Are you seriously suggesting that Steve and I are half siblings?" You ask with a grin, laughing when he shrugs. "You'd be wrong, because I have my dad's nose."

Billy hums, almost lighting up at his mention. "Oh, yeah. Your father was one cruel bastard," He says lowly. "I'm surprised it took Vinnie so long to put him down, what with how protective he was over his sister. Jay was terrible to your mom."

"Yeah, I was there," You utter bitterly, deflating slightly as your mood sours.

"He was terrible to you, too," He states simply, staring at you as though he's dangling a piece of meat in front of a lion and waiting for it to pounce.

Refusing to take the bait, you remain composed and say nothing. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

"Roughed you up, didn't he?" He asks you slyly. "Daddy was a mean ol' drunk."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," You say, glad that your voice isn't shaky.

"Vinnie and I used to be good friends at one point," He tells you smugly. "I know exactly what I'm talking about."

Sick of his games, you sit on the bed with a huff. "Why haven't you killed me yet, huh? What am I being kept alive for?" You interrogate him with a frown. "All you wanted was me dead, right? You could've shot me in the warehouse; why go to the effort of bringing me here?"

Billy lets out a sigh, folding his arms across his chest the way he always used to. "See, all those years ago, your pretty face caused a whole load of trouble of us," He begins with a cold look in his eyes. "We lost a lot in the war, but the most devastating loss was that of our connections. Our allies. I don't mean friendships; I couldn't give less of a rat's ass about that. I'm talking about the fact that we don't have a weapons guy no more. Or a link for offshore exports. Nothing but the skin on our own back."

"Because every other gang in America knows what pieces of shit you all are," You spit bitterly.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth, bitch," He orders you, clenching his hands into fists. "Since it's your fault we've lost our relationships with our dealers, it's only fair that you get them back for us, ain't it?"

You let out a scoff. "And how the fuck would I do that?"

Billy whispers something into Blackbeard's ear before walking closer to you while Blackbeard leaves the room. "We're almost fully back on our feet, and we're well equipped. But that's only for now. We need a long term contract with a good supplier, and the best suppliers, as you well know, are the Mutants," He explains. "You're gonna use your friendship and your pretty face to get Wilson to sign a contract with us."

"Wade would never supply to you," You mutter.

"He would, if he thought you were one of us," Billy says, tilting his head. "And you will be one of us. Right after you marry Jasper."

You immediately snort. "Oh, my God. You have to be kidding. Right?"

Jasper, standing behind Billy, rolls his eyes.

"Since my nephew died and left you a widow, it seems only right I offer up my son," Billy says with a smirk. "Don't worry. I won't force you to go on a honeymoon, or sign any papers. It's just for show; to prove to Wilson and the Mutants that you're a Red Skull, and convince him to sign a contract to move their merchandise."

"I haven't spoken to Wade in years," You inform him. "How can you be so sure that he'll give a fuck whether or not I'm a Red Skull?"

"Make him give a fuck," Billy orders you. "Or else-"

Right on time, Blackbeard re-enters the room, but he's not alone. He's holding someone familiar in his arms, and she looks terrified, with a piece of black tape over her mouth. Your breath is stolen as you realize who she is.

"MJ?" You utter, jumping to your feet.

"Ah, that's right," Billy says with a smirk, walking over to her. "Your little Michelle, all grown up. How long's it been since you last saw her?"

"Get your fuckin' hands off her," You mutter to Blackbeard gravely, who ignores you.

"Now, if you want little Michelle here to live to see her 18th birthday," Billy begins, stroking her hair while she shivers. "Then you'll do exactly as I say. Got it?"

MJ's eyes are wide and filled with terror as she looks at you. Part of you wants to engulf her in a hug and cry about how big she's gotten, but a larger part of you knows you need to keep her from harm, no matter what.

"I'll do it," You whisper, feeling irritatingly powerless. "Whatever you fuckin' want."

Steve takes a long sip of beer as his leg bounces impatiently. Every minute that you're apart from him is another minute during which Billy could've killed you, or worse. Though he knows he needs to be smart about his strategy to get you back, that doesn't make it any easier for him to not be hunting you down.

"You hear that?" Yelena asks as she perks up, raising a finger. "Motorcycles."

Gradually, the sound of bikes gets louder until they completely stop. A minute later, a few Drifters walk in, on high alert. They were given word that an outsider biker gang had shown up on their turf unannounced, so they've come to check it out.

Steve gets up to his feet and the others mirror him, standing behind him while Big Bruce and the other Drifters make their way over. Big Bruce looks Steve up and down with narrow eyes, his hands on his hips and his nose twitching.

Suddenly, a smile breaks out on his lips. "Holy smokes," Big Bruce utters, shaking his head. "You're the spitting image of your father, boy-o."

Steve lets out a laugh of relief, holding his hand out which Bruce shakes. "It's good to meet you, Bruce," He says. "My father told me a lot about you. All of you."

Pepper steps forward with a raised brow. "What are you Howlie kids doing here, huh?" She asks, scanning their faces and stopping when she gets to Tony. "Looking for a fight?"

His eyes widen for a second as he stumbles over his words. "I- we come in peace, ma'am, we- we're just-"

"Tony gets a little nervous around pretty women," Yelena says, shooting Pepper a wink.

"I do not," Tony whispers, looking at the ground.

"Anything in particular you want here?" Frank asks assertively, folding his thick arms across his chest. "As great as Coney's beers are, I highly doubt you came all this way for the booze."

Steve shakes his head, letting out a regretful sigh. "Actually, there's something we need to talk to you about," He says, meeting Big Bruce's eyes. "It's about fif- I mean, Y/N."

Pushing to the front, Druig grabs Steve by the shoulder with wide eyes. "What about her, huh? Is she alright?"

"Calm, Dru," Pepper utters, pulling him back before turning to Steve. "Get to the point, Rogers."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, feeling overwhelmed with guilt. It's his fault you were taken. If he had recognized what Bucky and Peggy were planning earlier, you'd be safe right now. Why wasn't he able to protect you? And how does he explain to your family that it was his own people that set you up? His best fucking friend?

Natasha, noticing his anxiousness, gently rubs his back while taking a step forward. "Y/N's been captured by the Red Skulls," She reveals bluntly. "We believe Billy Rumlow has taken her back to Columbus with him."

The Drifters visibly tense up at her revelation. Pepper's face pales, while Frank, Bruce and Druig clench their fists.

"Billy has her?" Frank utters lowly.

"How? How did this happen?" Pepper questions them with narrow eyes. "She's evaded them for eight years, so how the fuck did this happen?"

"Why are we still standing here?" Druig asks Bruce. "We need to go get her back, now."

"We can't act rash," Thor cuts in, holding his hands up in surrender when the four Drifters glare at him. "What we need is a plan."

"Thor's right," Sam adds, patting his shoulder. "Columbus is Skull territory. We'd be way out of our depths."

"We fought a year-long war with them. We know how they think," Frank tells him through gritted teeth. "And with all due respect, Howlie, Y/N's our family. We don't wait around when our family's in danger."

"I love her," Steve suddenly announces, to which Druig pulls a bitter face. With a sigh, Steve swallows thickly. "I love her, and I need her to be okay. I can't afford to risk doing something impulsive that puts her life on the line."

Bruce clenches his jaw, staring Steve down. "What do you suggest we do, then, Rogers?"

Looking at each of them, Steve nods. "What we know is that Rumlow didn't just want her dead. If that were true, he'd have killed her when he saw her," He exclaims firmly. "He wants something from her. What that is, I don't know, but it buys us time. And if I know my girl, I know she's more than capable of staying alive, even at the hands of those pricks. You know that, too. Heck, you raised her to be that way."

The Drifters remain silent, in deep thought, but Steve knows he's got them on side.

"Gather up as many bodies as you can," Natasha says to Bruce sternly. "All the ammo you can expend, with as many weapons as we can carry. If we're doing this on their turf, we're gonna need to be armed to the fucking teeth."

Bruce gives Frank a look, who nods back before grabbing Druig and storming out of the bar. Once they're gone, Bruce turns back to Natasha. "Soldiers and weapons. Is that all?" He asks her.

"We have 24 hours to prep the troops and get as much information as we can about the Skulls. Their bars, where they live, where Y/N is likely to be being held," She lists off. "I can handle the research. You handle the muscle."

Bruce raises a brow, looking her up and down as he steps closer to her. "Got any more instructions for me, Little Red?" He questions her lowly.

She stares back up at him, keeping her chin high as she remains calm and cool. "I'll let you know if anything comes up," She replies with a hint of a smirk.

When Bruce turns to leave, Thor leans in close to Natasha and cheekily whispers, "I think something just did."

She hits his shoulder, giving him a stern look. "We have one day to get as much intel as possible," She reminds him before looking back at Pepper. "Tomorrow night, we strike."

Pepper nods in agreement. "Tomorrow night."

You sit back in the chair while watching Wade pour out the dark tea, wishing that all you were here for was a pleasant chat over a warm drink. He was quick to agree to meeting you, which you were happily surprised by - though you feel awful knowing the true circumstances.

"How's Vanessa?" You ask him politely.

"Dead," He reveals curtly. "How's Brock?"

"Ha," You let out loudly, shaking your head. "Yeah, he's dead too. Is Cable still hot?"

"I see your daddy issues are still wildly at play," Wade says, leaning forward. "I can call Logan in, if it's old man dick you're after."

"No, thank you," You assure him, before shrugging. "I'm married."

"What?" He gasps, feigning shock with a hand on his chest. "You mean you moved on after your four-day long marriage almost a decade ago? How could you find the strength?"

"Fuck you; I loved Brock," You say stubbornly. Nervously, you tap your fingers on the arm of your chair. "I married his cousin."

Wade immediately narrows his eyes at you. "You mean that prick with the Twilight name? What was it again? Emmet?"

"Jasper, and he isn't as much of a prick anymore," You claim, resting your left hand on the desk to show off the diamond ring Billy made you wear. "He's matured."

Not at all believing you, he raises a brow and says nothing.

You sigh, giving in. "Okay, he's a little bit of a prick."

"One Red Skull wasn't enough for you?" He asks you incredulously.

"Apparently not," You chirp. "Once you're in, you're in, you know?"

Wade spins around in his chair, tapping his finger against his lips. "The only reason you entertained the idea of marrying Brock was because he was leaving the Skulls," He recollects suspiciously. "And now you're married to the leaders son?"

You let out a sigh. Damn you for opening up to him all those years ago. "Brock was the leader's son, once upon a time," You offer.

"Yeah, and like I said, you only married him because he was planning on leaving them," Wade reiterates with narrow eyes. "We practically grew up together, Hot Wheels. I know you."

The use of his juvenile nickname makes your heart ache as your palms clam up. You hate lying to him, but it's what you need to do. "A lot can change in eight years," You utter lowly.

Suddenly, he spins to the front and slams his hands onto the desk, glaring at you. "No. Not loyalty. Not your loyalty. You'd never do that to Vinnie's legacy. He lives on through you; you'd rather chug hot tar than join another gang," He states firmly.

"There's a lot you don't know, okay?" You say desperately. "A lot. You don't know everything, Wade."

Confused, he sits back. "Why are you here?" He questions you simply.

"I thought we could strike a deal," You tell him. "We wanna distribute for you. You have drugs, and we have runners in and around Columbus."

"We, as in the Red Skulls?" He asks with a scoff. "Dealing with them would be like selling my soul to the devil, and not in the cool way. In the supporting-white-supremacy way. The Mutants have a zero-tolerance policy for that stuff."

You want to give up, at your wit's end - but the image of MJ and that cold fear in her eyes motivates you to keep fighting.

"Come on, you really think I'd be with them if that were true?" You ask him with a scoff. "They're not what they used to be. They've... reformed. The war humbled them. They have a new leader, and they're... they're just better."

"So, what do they need our drugs for?" He quizzes you with a raised brow. "Why not find their own source?"

Your mind goes blank. Billy didn't prepare you for that question. "I..."

"Come on; you're the leader's daughter-in-law," He says insistently. "You don't know why they wanna align with us of all a sudden?"

Your voice lowers to a whisper as your heart races. "Wade."

His face drops and he leans forward. "Tell me the truth," He orders you gravely. "What the fuck is going on here?"

With nothing else left to do, you lift up your shirt. His eyes widen as your bra comes into view - but then he sees the wires, and realization dawns on him.

"Nothing is going on," You say pointedly with wide eyes, while grabbing a notepad and pen from him desk and writing down. "I just thought you'd want to help an old friend out, Wadey."

He glances down at the note you slide across to him.

theyre listening they have MJ theyll kill her

His face pales as he looks back up at you, shock in his eyes. He remains silent for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before replying to you. "Tell you what, Hot Wheels," He begins, his face blank. "Let me fuck you and we have a deal."

You almost choke on your spit. "What?"

"I have a thing for married women," He says arrogantly. "And you've always been a cutie, so why not?" With wide eyes, he mouths, 'Play along!'

"Are you insane?" You ask him, feigning offence.

"If you wanna work with Wade, you're gonna have to deal with Little Wade, first," He says with a smirk before it suddenly drops. "I mean, Big Wade. Huge Wade."

"Oh, please," You scoff. "You're disgusting."

He shrugs while scribbling down a note. "If not, you can just leave right now. Go on home to small-dick Jasper," He says mockingly before sliding the note over to you.

Knowing that Jasper's listening, you have to hold back a snort while you read the note.

I can get the mutes ready. weve been waiting for an excuse to fuck them up

"Or, say the word and we can figure something out," He continues, raising a brow as he taps the note. "Just tell me when."

With a surge of adrenaline, you sit up and say, "How's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's perfect," He says. "You ever pegged anyone?"

"Wade," You snort, shaking your head. "What the fuck do you take me for? Of course I have."

"Great," He quips, clapping his hands together. "Tomorrow night, then."

You nod, feeling equally as nervous as you do excited. "Tomorrow night."

i no longer have a taglist, but if you follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications, you'll know when i post.

buy me a kofi <3

#AAAAA #ITS HAPPENING #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #series #biker!steve

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P9

18+

An unlikely saviour comes to your aid when Peggy and Bucky take things too far, but is the damage they've caused too much to undo?

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, mature themes, angst, violence, kidnapping, peggy and bucky are terrible people, minor character death, blood.

Series Masterlist

A knock at the door makes Steve shoot up from the couch and rush over to open it. He's been calling you for the past ten minutes and you haven't picked up, so you better have a damn good explanation for making him lose his mind with concern.

When he opens the door, however, he isn't faced with you.

"Sam?" Steve utters, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

Letting out a sigh, Sam's face and tone are grave. "We need to talk, man."

"Can it wait?" Steve asks. "I'm expecting Y/N any minute now."

"Actually, that's perfect," Sam says, pushing past him and walking into the house. "I need to talk to you both."

With a huff, Steve takes a look outside to check if your car has arrived. When he doesn't see it, his stomach flips. Though there's no proof, and you are only fifteen minutes late, he knows something's wrong.

"Bucky and Peggy have lost their minds," Sam states curtly, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asks him, standing in the doorway.

"They have this conspiracy theory about Y/N. They think she's a Red Skull, and that she's married to Rumlow," Sam explains.

Raising a brow, Steve leans against the door. "Well, that's only half-true," He mumbles, before narrowing his eyes. "Why haven't they asked me? Or Y/N?"

"Because they believe she's planning on destroying you. All of us," Sam says. "They think she has a master plan to steal our resources and connections through you."

Steve snorts at the notion that you could ever betray him. "Oh, please," He scoffs. "They've been watching too many movies. And do they think I'm an idiot?"

Sam simply shrugs. "I don't know, man, but it's bad," He warns him. "This isn't just some joke. They're serious."

Drawn in, Steve walks over to the table and rests his hands on the back of a chair. "If they have a problem with my girl, they can take it up with me," He states firmly. "And if they disrespect her in any way, I'll beat Bucky's ass and ship Peggy back to London. Let Howard handle her."

"Yeah, that's the thing," Sam says nervously. "I haven't heard from either of them all day. I have a feeling they've done something stupid."

His words make Steve's heart drop. He takes his phone out of his pocket to see you still haven't replied to any of his texts. "She... fif was supposed to get home twenty minutes ago," He utters. "She's never this late, even with traffic. And she would've told me if she got caught up at work."

Sam slowly stands up with a wince. "We need to find Bucky," He declares. "Now."

There's a constant dripping sound echoing around the cold warehouse, making you inwardly cringe every time a droplet hits the wet concrete. You're doing your best to keep your heartbeat relaxed in an effort to conserve your energy which you might need later.

"Why isn't she saying anything?" Peggy mumbles to Bucky, who looks just as confused as her as they stare down at where you're sitting, tied to a chair with a blank look on your face.

There haven't been many times in your life when you've felt powerless. When you were a teenager, you'd have the odd bout of insecurity or fear, but you grew out of it once you learnt how to defend yourself. As you've grown older, you've mastered the art of dominance and owning whichever situation life throws your way.

That was until Steve came along.

He makes you feel powerless, but in a way you can handle. Because along with your weakness comes your trust for him, and your knowledge that he would protect you over himself. It helps that he's given up power to you, too, and you know your weakness is mutual.

Right now, though, you feel powerless and you aren't sure how to handle it. You can't think of words to say, of things to do, or even a look to give to reclaim power. Your hands are literally tied behind your back on a chair in a dark warehouse. How the fuck could you possibly reclaim power?

"We know why you're with Steve," Bucky says, breaking the silence. The bruises on his jawline and broken nose are starting to form, making you slightly proud. When he dragged you off his bike and into the warehouse, you held your own and did your best to escape him. Though it didn't work, you're glad you at least made him hurt. "We know the truth about you. We do background checks on everyone that joins our family, so Sam and I took the liberty of digging into your past," He goes on to say.

You raise a brow, curious as to what they found.

"We have connections everywhere, including Detroit. Imagine our surprise when we found your marriage certificate in the Detroit city files," Bucky continues smugly. "You married the founder of the Red Skulls' grandson. How very romantic."

God, they sound so dumb right now.

"It didn't take long for me to piece together the truth," Peggy chimes in with an arrogant smirk. "I got the call from Bucky, and two days later I had learnt everything I needed to know. The Red Skulls were ultimately powerless after the war; thrown off their turf and left with scraps. I called a few different gangs around the South, and they all told me the same thing: that a Red Skull had infiltrated them and usurped their resources." She steps forward with a fierce look on her face. "Did you really think you could swindle us, Red Skull?"

Your eyes narrow. They think you're a Red Skull?

"You've messed with the wrong family," Bucky spits. "So you may as well just admit it. At least go down with your dignity intact, and admit to what you've been doing."

Swallowing thickly, you take in a deep breath before finally speaking. "Why in the fuck would I be a part of that racist cult?" You ask them calmly.

Peggy rolls her eyes. "You're a good actress, I'll give you that," She comments smugly. "I mean, you were able to get Steve to obsess over you, so you must be good."

You look at them both, utterly baffled. "If anyone here is obsessed, it's the two of you," You say, shaking your head. "You've both been nothing but bitter towards me because you hate that I'm with him. The second Steve enters a happy, healthy relationship, you immediately try to destroy it. And you know what? Yeah, maybe he is obsessed with me - but it's consensual, and mutual, and welcomed. Your obsession is deluded and harmful!"

"Shut up," Bucky mutters.

"He's never gonna love you back, Peggy!" You yell at her. "He's never gonna want you, he's never gonna fuck you, and he's never gonna be attracted to you!"

"Shut up!" She screams, stepping forward and striking you across the face with her backhand.

You wince as you feel your bottom lip start to bleed, but you've been through too much pain to fumble with a slap. "By kidnapping me, you've dug your own graves," You warn them. "Because if I don't get the chance to kill you myself, we all know Steve will rip you to shreds when he finds out what you've done."

"Not when he finds out what you've done," Bucky counters stubbornly. "If there's one thing he hates more than anything, it's traitors."

"And you two just became exactly that by harming his girlfriend," You say with a smile. "Enjoy hell, assholes. I'll see you there."

"His girlfriend who's been lying to him!" Peggy screeches, her eyes wide and her cheeks bright red. "He'll see the truth soon. He'll see what Bucky and I see, and then he'll deal with you himself. How do you think he'll react to finding out that his girl is married to someone else?"

"He already knows," You reveal curtly. "And he's more than fine with it, because he's mature and secure enough to wait until he's given the entire truth before jumping to crazy conclusions, unlike you two."

Bucky snorts. "As if."

"What exactly did you think you'd get out of holding me hostage?" You wonder curiously. "Did you think I'd just sit here and blurt out my evil scheme for you to record and show Steve?"

They share a look that makes you laugh heartily.

"Oh, my God, you're more pathetic than I thought!" You exclaim with a grin. "Did you even think this through?"

Bucky turns his head to you and walks closer. "We did, Y/N, and we even invited a friend of yours," He reveals lowly. "He was delighted to hear that we had found you, and he agreed to take you back with him."

You feel unnerved at his confidence, but you remain calm. "Who the fuck are you talking about?" You ask him.

Peggy turns to the door and yells, "Come in!"

Slowly, the door creaks open and in walks the worst possibility.

Billy Rumlow.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Eight years later, he looks older and meaner. His beard is longer and his build is bigger, and the hatred in his eyes has amplified.

"Hello, sweetheart," He greets you with a snide smirk. "Ready to come home?"

Sucking in a breath, you look over at Bucky, hoping there might still be an inch of compassion in him. You can feel him starting to melt as he stares back at you, and you hope it's enough for him to save you.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Billy claims, stomping over to you. "When your friends here contacted me, I was terrified that they'd kill you. Thankfully, they've shown some mercy, and agreed to let me bring you home. Where you belong."

"What the fuck?" You say to Bucky. "You're working with this prick? And you call me the traitor?"

"We aren't working with him," Peggy corrects you. "It's a simple tradeoff. We give you back, and the Red Skulls stay off our turf."

"You're insane," You whisper with disbelief, shaking your head. "If Steve finds out-"

"Don't worry, he will," Peggy snaps at you. "We'll tell him the truth; that you've rejoined your real family and we can finally know peace again."

Billy moves closer to you and tightly grabs your wrists, making you freeze up. Squeezing your eyes shut, you feel your heart race. God, you miss Vinnie. He'd be so disappointed in you right now. Unable to fight off a few Howlin' Commandos? Who even are you?

"It's amazing to know you're safe, sweetheart," Billy mutters smugly, placing his hands on your shoulders and harshly rubbing them. "You and I have so much catching up to do."

Just then, the door slams open and in rushes a tall, white, blond guy, making you gasp. For a second, you think Steve has come to save you - but it's the last person you were expecting to see.

"Get off of her, scumbag!" John yells, aiming a handgun at Billy.

"Walker?" You utter, shocked. "Get out of here!"

"I'm not going anywhere without you, Y/N, don't worry," John assures you firmly. "I saw that leather-wearing, Howlin' Commando prick kidnap you in the car park. I almost lost you, but I followed the stench of biker trash."

Bucky, Peggy, and Billy each take out their own guns, holding them up to John, but he simply laughs in their faces.

"Go ahead; shoot me," He says arrogantly. "You really think you can get away with killing the fucking mayor? The police are already on their way. Give up."

Bucky huffs with frustration, while Peggy looks terrified. "I- I can't get caught here, James," She whispers to him. "I'll get deported."

"Damn right you will, you tea-chugging, Big Ben bitch," John says bitterly. "I hope your bags are packed, guv'nor."

"Listen, sir, I was just trying to help my friend here," Billy claims. "Y/N is very dear to me-"

"Shut it, old man," John cuts him off. "I know my Y/N, and I know she'd never willingly associate with the likes of you criminal lowlifes. Get away from her, now!"

It's almost as though the next few seconds happen in slow motion. Billy lets out a snarl and steps forward before cocking his gun and shooting John right between the eyes.

"Walker!" You scream as he falls to his knees, his eyes glazing over as he collapses onto his face with a thud. The blood pools around him and all you can do is watch on in shock, your heart thudding in your chest.

"Holy fuck," Bucky mumbles with wide eyes while Peggy winces.

One bullet. Your plans to slowly burn him and his empire to the ground have been blown to pieces with one fucking bullet. After years of intricate planning, detailed scheduling, become a member of his team and gaining his trust, it's over. You never wanted John dead, you wanted him to pay for the hardships he put your uncle through. You wanted him to get jail time for his fraudulent actions, and maybe get a little roughed up in the process, but you never wanted him dead.

And now you're completely alone with three people who want you dead.

The tears dry on your cheeks before you even realize they've fallen. You can barely hear anything while Peggy, Bucky, and Billy discuss between themselves, their tones panicked and rushed. All you can do is stare at John's dead body. Sure, he was an asshole, but for the past five minutes, he was the only person making you feel safe and giving you hope.

The sound of sirens rings out in the distance and they gradually get louder. In a hurry, Billy unties you and drags you up to your feet before beginning to lead you to the back door. For a few moments, you're numb, until you remember you're being dragged to your death.

"Bucky, please!" You yell, thrashing against Billy's hold and attempting to kick him in the groin. "Don't let him do this! I'm not what you think I am!"

His eyes are filled with conflict but Peggy keeps a firm grip on his forearm as she glares you and mutters to him under her breath.

"Steve will tell you himself; he knows the truth!" You continue to bellow as loud as you can while your throat begins to get sore. "He'll never forgive you for this and you know it! Please don't-"

Billy smacks your head against the metal door, shutting you up instantly as you almost black out. Seeing stars, you let out weak mumbles, but all you can do is let Billy take you to his car.

Thirty seconds after Steve harshly bangs on the door, it finally opens to reveal Bucky. His face is spattered with bruises, and there's a glint of fear in his eyes.

"I'm glad you're home, Buck. I came around a half hour ago and you weren't here," Steve says. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

Suddenly, the door opens wider and there stands Peggy with a wide smile on her face. "Hi, Stevie!" She greets him cheerily. "Come in; I made those coconut cookies you like, just how your mum makes them!"

Reluctantly, Steve follows them inside, glancing down at his phone to see whether you've replied to any of his texts yet. When he sees you haven't, he feels nauseous with concern.

"Any of you heard from fif?" He asks as they walk into the kitchen. "I was expecting her home forty-five minutes ago."

Bucky and Peggy share a look before she gives Steve an innocent shrug. "Sorry, I haven't," She says, pushing the tray across the counter. "Cookie?"

Steve looks down at them before shaking his head. "No, thanks," He utters, before narrowing his eyes at Bucky. "Where'd those bruises come from, pal?"

Swallowing thickly, Bucky rubs the back of his neck. "They... uh-"

"James was teaching me some self-defence and I went a little too rough on him," Peggy chimes in with a laugh, nudging his shoulder. "I'm sure they'll clear up in a few days."

"Uh, yeah, she got me good," Bucky says with a breathy laugh. "Mean right hook on this one."

"Right," Steve mutters, rubbing his face. "Actually, I think we need to talk. Sam mentioned that you two have a problem with fif. What's that about?"

Peggy's hand clenches into a fist as her eye twitches. With a sigh, Bucky speaks up. "We were meaning to tell you, but we didn't know how," He says lowly.

"Tell me what?" Steve questions him with quirked brow.

"Y/N isn't who you think she is, Steven. She's a Red Skull, married to Brock Rumlow, and she's been posing as a Drifter to get close to you," Peggy reveals impatiently. "When we confronted her about it earlier this evening, she skipped town."

Steve's stomach drops. "What?" He utters gravely. "Where is she?"

"She went back to the Red Skulls because she failed her mission" She says with a casual shrug. "She got caught while undercover."

Doing his best to remain outwardly calm, Steve looks over to the brunet with the overpronounced frown lines. "Buck?" It's almost as though he's giving him one last chance to tell the truth. One last chance to come clean and maybe get a smidge of forgiveness for his part in you being gone.

Bucky glances up at him to nod. "Yeah, man. I'm sorry... she went back to the Skulls."

A few moments of silence pass by while Steve collects his thoughts. He slowly begins to nod, clenching his jaw while focusing his cold stare on Bucky. "I think it was fif who gave you those bruises, Barnes," He states bluntly.

Bucky feels his heart drop down to his ass.

"What?" Peggy scoffs. "Don't be daft, Stevie."

"You shut the fuck up, Peggy," Steve shoots at her with malice dripping from his tone. "You don't think I noticed the way you spoke to her? Looked down at her? I turned a blind eye 'cuz I thought you were just being sceptical of a stranger, but that was downright disrespect. You obviously have a problem with her."

"Yes, Steven, I do," She confirms sternly. "My problem is that she's a spy sent to infiltrate-"

"Oh, fuck off with your fantastical theories," He cuts her off bitterly. "Is it that hard for you to accept that I'm with someone else, that you have to conjure up these stories to make yourself feel better? Because the idea that I've genuinely found my soulmate, someone I'm falling in love with, means that I can't be yours?

She lets out a shaky breath and her eyes fill with tears.

"I thought you took the hint four years ago when I fucked Yelena on your birthday," Steve adds dryly, making her gasp. "I don't like you. I don't want you. And I never. Fucking. Will."

"Alright Steve," Bucky interjects, holding a hand up to him. "That's enough."

"And you," Steve turns to him with a glare. "You've had a problem with fif, too. What, you're in love with me as well?"

With pink cheeks, Bucky looks down at the ground, saying nothing in response.

Steve rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "Fuck's sake. You're both as equally as deranged as each other," He comments lowly before raising his voice. "Tell me where she is."

Peggy takes in a deep breath. "We don't-"

"Tell me where the fuck she is or I swear to God, I will tear both of your hearts out," Steve threatens them gravely as his eyes darken. "And please, do not doubt the bounds of my anger. You will not survive if you don't tell me where the fuck she is."

The both of them remain silent, speechless. They're shocked by the venom in Steve's eyes and voice, and shaken by his rage.

"Are you gonna say anything?" He asks them gruffly. "Or should I just rip your fucking tongues out and make you write it down?"

Peggy's lips part to let out a shaky breath while Bucky's brows furrow.

Steve clenches his hands into fists as his eyes pool with pure fury, and his voice lowers to an unforgiving growl. "I won't ask you again. Where is she?"

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Part 10 >

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#YOOOOO #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #series #biker!steve

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P8

18+

A blast from your past turns your world upside down, while Peggy and Bucky put their plan into motion.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, Ex!Brock x Reader, mature themes, angst, brief mention of sexual harassment, violence, mention of murder/death, fluff.

Series Masterlist

You stare down at the cup of coffee, your eyes following the curves of the steam as it floats up into the air before disappearing. Wishing you, too, could disappear into the air, you bounce your leg nervously.

"So, let me get this straight," Brock begins, rubbing his forehead. "You're working for Walker so you can destroy him, but you're dating the Howlin' Commando because you genuinely like him?"

Looking up at him, you clench your jaw. "How many times do I have to say it before you get it into your head?"

He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes. "A lot of things have changed since I left Detroit, Y/N," He reminds you. "Can you just appreciate that this is all a little weird for me?"

You let out a sigh and slump down into your seat, nodding. Before either of you can say another word, there's a knock at the door.

Luckily, you came up with an excuse for Steve not to be at your place last night, seeing as you aren't sure how happy he'd be to see you stumbling in at night with Brock Rumlow behind you. However, it seems your luck has just run out.

"That's gonna be Steve," You inform him lowly while standing up. "Stay here, and stay quiet."

He gives you a nod before you walk out of the kitchen and make your way to the front door, your heart pounding in your chest. When you open it, you see Steve with a tray in his hands and a smile on his face.

"Good morning, fif," He greets you, kissing you and pushing you back into your house before you can get a word in edgeways.

"Mmm, morning," You reply, smiling back at him. "What's this?"

He looks down at the tray while wrapping his free arm around your waist. "Well, my ma always told me it was bad manners to give a dish back to someone without filling it with food," He tells you. "So, I brought you some cheesecake. It's the only dessert easy enough for me to make."

You peel back the foil to reveal a square-shaped, vanilla cheesecake in your brownie tray, making you grin. "That is the sweetest thing," You coo, leaning up to give him a long kiss.

Steve kicks the door behind him before pushing you into your living room and placing the tray onto the coffee table. He never once breaks the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue while lifting you up into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Baby, wait," You mumble, remembering the six foot four man sitting in your kitchen.

"S'wrong?" He murmurs against your lips. "I've missed you, fiffy."

Pulling back, you let out a sigh. "I need to talk to you about something," You inform him, making his face drop.

Slowly, he puts you down onto the ground and frowns. "You are not breaking up with me, Y/N," He states curtly.

"Of course not!" You exclaim, clinging onto his shirt. "It's nothing like that, it's just..."

He raises a brow expectantly. "Well?" He pushes. "Are you pregnant?"

"No!" You confirm with a laugh. "I swear to God, it's nothing that impacts you directly, it's just that... you know what? Follow me."

A suspicious look remains on his face as you lead him to the kitchen, and your stomach flips. What are you doing? Is this the worst mistake in the world?

The second you enter the kitchen, Steve's hand wraps around your wrist and he instinctively pulls you closer. "The fuck are you doing here?" He asks Brock gravely.

Brock stands up and holds his hands up in surrender. "Stand down, Rogers. I'm not here with bad intentions," He assures.

"Sure, pal," Steve replies sarcastically, taking a step forward.

"Steve, hold on," You say, turning to look up at him. "Look, I know that the Skulls and the Commandos have had their differences in the past, but-"

"What the fuck is going on?" Steve asks you with a frown. "Why is this prick in your home?"

"Listen and I'll tell you," You say sternly. "I've known Brock for a long time, even before he left the Red Skulls."

"He left the Red Skulls?" Steve asks you with a scoff, glancing over at him. "Somehow, I find that hard to believe."

Brock sighs, walking around the table to come closer. "Look, I understand that you can't trust me, but trust your girl," He requests. "She knows me better than anyone. We've been through a lot together."

"Oh, you have?" Steve asks him bitterly, before turning to look down at you. "Like what?"

You press your lips together while trying to fight past your nerves to speak. Clearing your throat, you begin. "As you know, the Skulls used to operate in Detroit, back when it was half their territory and half Drifter," You explain to him. "Brock and I met when we were teenagers. And... we were in a relationship."

Steve keeps his eyes on you, his gaze stern.

"But of course, Unce Vinnie and Karl, Brock's dad, were completely against it, so we kept it a secret," You continue as the memories hit you. "When I left Detroit, I was told that Brock was killed. I thought he was dead. But here he is."

"Leaving out a big chunk of our love story there, Pretty Drifter," Brock says with a raised brow.

Steve glares at him. "Why did you leave the Red Skulls? Your grandfather founded that club. You were next in line to take over; why would you walk away from that?" He asks curtly.

Brock sighs, leaning back against the table. "Like I said; your girl left out a big chunk of the story," He says, folding his arms across his chest. "What she left out makes it pretty damn clear as to why I'd walk away, Rogers."

"So then, tell me," Steve orders him. "What exactly happened?"

"It looks perfect on you," Brock said as he stared at the necklace he had gifted you for your 18th birthday.

"You just want an excuse to stare at my tits," You quipped with an eye-roll, laying back against the grassy hill.

He laughed heartily, shaking his head. "I don't need an excuse, baby," He claimed, moving closer to you. "You're mine. Ain't nobody else got the right to touch on you, look at you, or even think about you."

His words made you falter as you glanced down. Knowing you so well, he immediately noticed your sunken expression.

"What's wrong, baby?" Brock asked you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Did I say something?"

"No, it's not you," You assured him, staring at the ground. "It's... David."

"Still?" He scoffed, sitting up. "He's still messing with you?"

"He's only getting worse," You muttered. "And I can't tell Uncle Vinnie, because that's his best friend. But I'm scared, Brock. I'm scared that, one day, I won't be strong enough to push him away. That there won't be anyone else around, and he'll get the chance to..."

With a clenched jaw, Brock stood up. "I'm gonna kill him," He decided firmly.

"No, you can't!" You exclaimed, jumping to your feet. "He's a Drifter!"

"I don't care!" He yelled. "What kind of forty-something-old man gets off on groping a teenager, huh? A teenager that he should see as his neice? I'll tell you; the kind that deserves to die."

"If you try anything, you'll cause a war," You warned him gravely. "You're a Red Skull, Brock, remember that. This isn't just you fighting some random guy on the street."

He took in a deep breath, rubbing his forehead for a few moments before taking your hands in his. "Then I'll make sure nobody finds out," He uttered lowly. "I'll do it so that it looks like an accident."

"Brock, you can't-"

"I may be an idiot, and I may even sometimes be an asshole to you, baby," He began, a focused determination in his eyes. "But I'm not a coward. And I'm not going to stand back and let you get hurt by that prick. You're my girl. What kind of a man would I be if I let him get away with touching you like that, huh?"

"You're not a man, Brock, you're the same age as me!" You cried. "He could kill you in seconds."

"I'd like to see the old man try," He muttered. "I'll do it tonight, while the Drifters are celebrating your birthday. David will be working at his bar, and I'll wait until he closes up."

You clung onto his arms, terrified. "Please, Brock, whatever you do, don't get hurt," You begged him. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Pretty Drifter, which is why I have to do this," He replied firmly. "Just make sure you and your uncle stay away from the bar tonight, as well as the other Drifters. Promise me?"

"I promise, Brock," You whispered shakily.

"Don't worry, baby," He said, leaning down to kiss you gently. "I'll come to your backyard once I'm done. Save me a beer."

You stayed up all night waiting for him, but he never came. The next morning, your uncle burst into your room to tell you that David's bar had caught fire and it had burnt to the ground, and David burned with it.

When you asked, Vinnie assured you that nobody else had been in the fire - but you still couldn't get a hold of Brock.

It wasn't until five days later that you finally saw him in your usual spot, waiting for you.

"Oh, my God," You mumbled, running over and jumping onto him. "You bastard! I thought you were dead!"

"You can't get rid of me that easily, Pretty Drifter," He teased, holding you tightly in his arms. "Now, why hasn't my girl given me a kiss hello yet, huh?"

Luckily, Brock had gotten away with burning down David's bar and it was chalked down to a tragic accident involving a lit cigarette and a broken bottle of whiskey. But even though the police didn't suspect him, his father did.

"He knows I did it for you," Brock admitted to you one day. "I... he pushed me, and I just came out with it. Said David was a fuckin' pervert who deserved it, and he knew straight away that it was for you."

"So, what now?" You asked him, tightening your grip on his hands.

Brock shook his head. "He's forbidden me from seeing you. He gave me tonight, one last night, and then I'm not allowed to leave Uncle Billy's sight from the morning onwards. He's taking away my freedom, baby, I just... I wish I could make you mine. Truly mine."

"I am yours!" You insisted, moving closer to him.

"In our eyes, sure," He said, looking down at you. "But not in the eyes of the law."

Your eyes widened. "You mean... you want us to-"

"Think about it, baby," Brock said, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "I'm turning eighteen in a couple of days, and then I'm my own man. We'll both be adults, and nobody can stop us."

"But... my uncle would disown me," You said, shaking your head. "I'd be kicked out of the Drifters. I love you, but they're my family. I can't leave them."

"You won't have to leave them, and your uncle won't disown you," He promised you. "Because I won't be a Red Skull anymore."

"Brock..." You trailed off, your heart racing.

He smiled at you, dropping down to one knee. "Marry me."

As romantic and epic and foolproof as the plan seemed, it didn't work out so well. Brock's uncle was already watching him, and he overheard everything you spoke about that night. After informing Karl Rumlow, he was given the order.

The order to kill you.

You married Brock on the morning of his birthday, with two elderly strangers as your witnesses. By nightfall, you had been shot.

Thankfully, the bullet in your side wasn't fatal. War immediately broke out.

Brock was killed for treason. At least, that's what his father told you. When his father died, the war came to an end. The Red Skulls were weak without their leader, and the Drifters were craving peace. The Red Skulls left Detroit, making it Drifter territory once and for all.

"My father shot me and left me for dead, but I was still breathing," Brock explains. "I took the opportunity to get out of town and get a fresh start."

"Without telling me? Without saying goodbye?" You interrogate him with narrow eyes. "I mourned you, Brock. I was your wife."

Steve grimaces at your words, looking down. You take his hand in yours and hold it tight, silently assuring him.

"I'm sorry," Brock says with a pained look. "I had no choice. If I tried to see you, I'd have been killed. I just ran."

"So, why are you here now?" Steve questions him. "Why track down Y/N, after all these years?"

Brock looks down. "I found peace. Leaving Detroit was a blessing. It gave me the freedom to live life on my own terms. Don't get me wrong; I loved being a biker, and I always will be one, but the Red Skulls weren't exactly the healthiest of families," He explains. "And for the better part of a decade, I had escaped them because the war left them powerless. But they're back, Y/N. And not just for me."

His words fill you with a dread. "They gave up looking for me years ago, when the war ended," You tell him. "What could they possibly want with me now?"

"When my father died, Billy took over as leader," Brock reveals. "He blames you and I for the war breaking out, and shit, I guess it is my fault. The war caused a lot of damage, and resulted in a lot of casualties, and the Red Skulls lost everything. Their territory, their money, their resources. They want revenge. We have a price to pay."

Steve frowns, pulling you closer to him. "Well, good luck to them, but there's no way they're surviving on my turf. Especially not if they plan to do harm to my girl. You have nothing to worry about," He states confidently.

A nervous look grows on Brock's features, which you're not used to seeing. "If you say so, Rogers," He replies, though he doesn't sound sure. "But I know the Red Skulls. I was raised by them. They play dirty, and a lot of people will get hurt in their game."

"I don't care what they try; Y/N is safe with us," Steve says firmly. "They can play however the fuck they want."

"Alright," Brock mutters, nodding. "Well, I've warned you. That's all I came to do."

"You're gonna leave?" You ask, frowning.

"I have to get back to my life," He tells you with a shrug. "I don't belong here. You do."

"But, what if they-"

"Don't worry about me. I've been running for a decade, and I'm damn good at it," He assures you, walking closer. "I'll contact you once this is all over, so we can officially get divorced," He adds with a chuckle, patting Steve's shoulder. "Let this guy take you off my hands."

Steve gives him a small smile and a grateful nod.

Brock looks down at you with a sigh. "I'll see you again, Pretty Drifter," He promises, leaning down to kiss your forehead before glancing at Steve. "Look after her, Rogers."

"See you later, Brock," You reply, though you feel awful while saying it. "Please be safe."

He shoots you a wink. "Never," He whispers playfully before walking out of the kitchen.

Neither you nor Steve say a word until you hear the front door slam shut.

"Fucking hell," You mumble, rubbing your face. "That was a lot. I'm so sorry for dragging you into my bullshit-"

"Don't apologize, fif," He cuts you off, cupping your face in his hands. "I told you before and I'll say it again; I care about you. If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll have to go through me first."

You let out a long sigh and sit at the table, and Steve crouches down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees.

"Why didn't you tell me you were married?" He asks you with a frown.

"It was an impulsive decision I made as a teenager," You explain. "I thought Brock was dead; I haven't thought about him in years. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I understand," He assures you, patting your knees. "It's a difficult thing to talk about."

You wince, rubbing your face. "I know that this is all a lot, Steve, and I wouldn't blame you if... if this made your feelings change," You utter.

His head shoots up at you and his frown deepens. "Fif, there is nothing that could make my feelings for you change," He promises. "When I made you mine, I also took on the responsibility of being yours. I knew what I was getting myself into, tryna tame a wild Drifter, but I'm here for the long run. I'm here for when it gets ugly. I'll always be here for you, fif. Every day, I fall harder."

Your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat. "You... fall?"

He gives you a warm smile. "I'm falling for you, baby," He reveals. "I don't care who knows it."

"Stevie," You whisper, leaning down to rest your forehead against his. "I'm falling for you, too."

"Yeah?" He mumbles, stroking your cheeks. "Gimme a kiss, baby."

He pulls you down onto his lap and your lips crash against his. The two of you sit against the table legs while the kiss deepens and his arms wrap around your waist. His tongue glides across yours and he lets out groans into your mouth, impassioned.

When he pulls away, there's a smug look on his face. "I knew I'd win you over, fifty-three," He says with a cocky smirk.

You roll your eyes at him and lowly warn him, "Don't ruin it, Rogers."

"You're in too deep for me to ruin it," He claims arrogantly.

"And you're on thin ice," You retort with a glare.

He stands up, lifting you up with him, and sits you down on the table. His lips brush against yours, his nose nudging yours. "Admit it, fifty-three," He mutters. "You're soft on me."

Narrowing your eyes, you tilt your head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, cowboy," You reply casually.

"You are," He teases you with a grin, before giving you a gentle kiss. "Don't worry. I've been soft on you since the day you knocked on my door and told me about that asshole you were dating," Steve says, taking your face in his hands. "And just like I sorted him out for you, I'll sort out anything for you."

You lean up and kiss him again, before pulling back with a smile. "Thank you, bubba. I appreciate you, so much," You say sweetly. "And you know that I would do anything for you, too."

"There's nothing too big and scary for me to take on when it's for you, baby, remember that," Steve assures you, holding you close. "Nobody can hurt my girl. Nobody."

"I'm leaving work now," You tell Steve over the phone as you walk out the building.

"Better not be any husbands waiting there for you this time," He warns you teasingly, to which you snort.

"I wouldn't be so sure; I've lost track of all my marriages," You joke while pulling out your keys. "Turn the oven on. I'll be home in fifteen."

"Home, huh?" He asks, and you can practically hear the smirk.

"I meant your home," You insist. "Just turn the damn oven on, Rog."

"Yes, ma'am," He replies. "Don't be long. I miss you."

"Shut up," You say. "I miss you, too. See you soon."

"See you soon, baby."

You hang up and drop your phone into your bag just as you step into the parking lot. To your surprise, you see Bucky standing at his bike which is parked next to your car.

"What is it with men waiting by my car?" You mumble to yourself, before calling out to him. "Hey, Barnes. What are you doing here?"

He jumps at your voice, his eyes wide. "Uh, hi. Steve told me to give you a ride home."

Confused, you raise a brow. "He did?" You ask. "I literally just spoke to him, and he didn't mention anything."

"Yeah, he wanted it to be a surprise," He claims. "He has a date planned for you."

"Really?" You ask, utterly taken aback. "Why didn't he pick me up himself?"

"Because he's setting it up for you," Bucky explains. "So, he wanted me to take you there."

Glancing down at your bag, you're in half a mind to call him again. But, knowing he loves to surprise you, you decide to go with it. "Alright, then," You say with a smile. "Can you tell me where we're going, or is that also-"

"A surprise," He finishes for you while nodding towards his bike. "C'mon. Don't wanna be late."

While you sit on the back of the bike and put on his helmet, Bucky takes his phone out to send Peggy a text.

Bucky

On our way.

i no longer have a taglist, but if you follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications, you'll know when i post 🥰

Part Nine >

buy me a kofi <3

#GRAAHHH #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #biker!steve #series

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P7

18+

You set some boundaries with Steve when it comes to his friendship with Peggy. Sam is starting to have some doubts.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, mature themes, Peggy Carter, angst, possessive!reader, smut, fluff.

Series Masterlist

When you knock on Steve's door at four in the afternoon, the last thing you're expecting to see is Peggy Carter standing there wearing nothing but a bright smile and one of his white t-shirts.

Yet, here she is.

Immediately, your right eye twitches and the tray in your hands tremors. It's taking all your willpower not to frisbee-throw it at her in hopes that it will slice off her neck, but you manage to stay cool.

There'll be a logical, completely innocent explanation for this, Y/N. Just keep calm.

"Y/N, hello!" She greets you sweetly, grinning at you as though you can't see her panties sneaking out from under your boyfriend's shirt.

"Hey," You reply lowly. "Is Steven home? I made him some brownies."

Her eyes light up. "Yum!" She exclaims and reaches out for the tray, but you pull it back. Her smile falters, but she keeps up her jovial attitude. "Steve's in the shower."

Logical, innocent explanation. Keep calm.

"Well then, I'll come in and wait for him," You decide firmly before pushing past her and making your way into the living room. "Any reason why you're wearing my boyfriend's shirt, Peggy?"

While you place the tray down onto the coffee table, she gasps and pulls at the hem of the shirt. "Goodness! I know what this may look like, Y/N - nothing scandalous, I swear. Steve and I are so close- I mean, I'm always borrowing his shirts, I'm just used to it- he lets me do it all the time. I hope you don't mind."

"Right," You mutter, quietly taking in deep breaths in an effort to remain composed.

Logical explanation. Calm.

Before you have the chance to explode, Steve himself walks into the room. His hair is slightly damp and fluffy, likely from him towel drying it. He looks surprised to see you and a smile instantly blooms on his lips. "Hey-" His eyes flit over to Peggy and he frowns, looking her up and down. "Is that my shirt?"

You purse your lips together and look down. Of course he didn't lend her his fucking shirt. You never doubted him.

A nervous laugh leaves Peggy's mouth. "I assumed I'd be allowed to steal it," She tells him awkwardly, making you cringe inwardly.

"I made you brownies, Rogers," You inform him, needing to change the topic as Peggy looks flustered. "Since you've been missing your mom's baking so much. I mean, they'll probably have nothing on hers, but I thought you might like them, anyway."

He walks over to you and his eyes twinkle with adoration. "Really?" He asks you with a wide grin. "You didn't have to do that, baby."

"I wanted to," You say before welcoming the sweet kiss he plants on your lips.

"Oh, how I miss Sarah!" Peggy suddenly interjects, forcing you to pull away. "You'll have to invite her up here one day, Stevie - or we could visit the farm!"

He turns away from you, looking to her. "Uh, could you give us a minute here, Peg?" He requests, making you smirk.

Reluctantly, she turns and leaves the living room, not without sparing you one last bitter glance. Ha. Checkmate.

Looking back at you, Steve has a look of slight panic on his face. "I know what it looks like, fif, but I swear to you-"

"Stop it, Steve," You cut him off curtly. "I trust you, and I know you aren't stupid enough to do anything to lose me. You don't need to swear."

He sighs, his lips twitching upwards in a smile. "Thank you," He mumbles, taking your hand in his and stroking the back of it gently.

"What even happened?" You wonder. "Why did she need your shirt?"

Running a hand through his hair, he frowns. "Uh, she spilt wine and it got all over my legs, so I just jumped into the shower," He explains. "I didn't know she was planning on changing into my clothes, though."

"You were drinking wine alone?" You inquire, unable to ignore the sirens in your head.

"No, I was with Peg," He says, making you snort.

"Yeah, that's what I meant by alone, Rog," You clarify with a raised brow. "You were drinking wine alone together?"

His lips part and his eyes widen a fraction. "It wasn't like that at all-"

"Steve, I've told you that I trust you. I know your intentions were pure," You cut in, before glancing at the ground for a second. "Having said that, I don't like the way that the thought of you two alone like that makes me feel. And I definitely do not like that she was given the opportunity to wear one of your fuckin' shirts like you're her boyfriend. So, I'd appreciate if you didn't do that again. Ever."

"Of course, fif, I completely understand," He says quickly. "Peg came over and wanted to taste some wine she had brought over from England- I didn't even think about how that might look from your perspective. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing when you've done nothing wrong," You order him sternly. "I don't mind you hanging out alone with her, or any other woman for that matter, it's just the drinking wine together and showering while she's here that... doesn't really sit right with me."

He nods, cupping your cheek. "And that's completely valid. I shouldn't have let myself get in that position," He states. "I know I'd be a lot more annoyed than you right now if the roles were reversed, and that's unfair to you." Leaning forward, he gives you a long, slow kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. "I respect you and this relationship far too much to ever hurt you or jeopardize what we've got."

"I appreciate that, Stevie," You whisper, pulling on his shirt. Slowly, your hand trails down to the hem of his sweatpants.

"So, you made me brownies, huh?" He asks you with a smirk.

"Yeah," You whisper before softly rubbing his crotch, making his smirk drop.

"Baby," He mumbles, getting harder with each second. "Peggy could come back any minute."

"And?" You question him flippantly, slipping your hand underneath his pants. "Let her watch." Maybe seeing your palm wrapped around his dick will finally make her realize that he's well and truly yours.

Steve groans lowly as you pull out his cock and start pumping him up and down. Leaning down, you purse your lips and spit onto the tip, making him shudder. You spread the moisture along with his pre-cum all over his shaft, making it easier for your hand to slide up and down his length as you feel him throb against your skin.

"Oh, fuck," He grunts, holding your face in his hands and leaning closer to you, until you can feel his breath on your lips. "Just like that, baby, you know how to make me feel so good."

You thrive off his praise, biting your lip while smiling and enjoying the groans and huffs leaving his mouth. "Your cock is so big, daddy," You whisper, feeding his ego. "Can barely even take it all in one hand."

"Use 'em both," He mumbles, sucking in a breath when you comply and wrap both your hands around his shaft.

He looks down, watching as you pump them up and down in unison, his hips swaying back and forth as his heartbeat races. His hands find your waist which he strokes while leaning forward to give you a sloppy kiss, his tongue clashing with yours messily. You speed up your hands, stroking him faster and ever so slightly squeezing every now and then.

"Oh, God," He whines weakly, pulling you closer. "I'm close, baby. I'm so fucking close."

"Are you gonna cum for mommy?" You ask him with a sly smirk. "Gonna be a good boy?"

"Yes," He replies instantly as his hips buck forward. "I'm gonna cum so hard for you, mommy, fuck. Please, make me cum."

Your nose brushes against his as you place pecks on his lips, pumping your hands faster when you feel him twitch. "Cum for me, Steven," You order him. "Be a good boy, and cum for me."

"Fuck, mommy," He whimpers before finally letting go and shooting out ropes of cum onto you. He watches as his white seed coats your dress, lips parting at the filthy action while you remain smirking. "Fuck, you're so fuckin' hot."

You stroke him for a few more seconds until he's spent, before tucking him back into his pants and sighing. "I better go home and change," You say, stepping back. "Enjoy the brownies."

Steve grabs your waist and pulls you back over to himself. "Don't go," He begs you, holding you close. "I'll just cum on your other clothes, too."

"Gross," You grumble, hitting his shoulder. "There's already one woman here, and I don't wanna intrude on your time alone-"

"Oh, stop it," He cuts in with a frown. "I'll tell her to leave. I wanna spend time with my girl. You're more important to me than anyone else."

While the two of you converse, Peggy sits on the staircase, seething. Her hands tighten into fists as her nose twitches. "Bitch," She whispers under her breath, glaring at the ground. "You're gonna ruin him."

"She's gonna ruin him," Peggy states gravely as she paces the floor. "She forbade him from being friends with me!"

Sam and Bucky frown up at her from where they're sitting in the booth in Clint's empty bar. "What?" Bucky asks her incredulously.

"I heard it with my own ears," She insists. "That bitch told him she's uncomfortable with him being around me. How dare she try and stop him from seeing his friend?"

"Who does that imposter think she is?" Bucky questions with narrow eyes. "Steve's known you for years, and he only met her a couple of months ago."

"She's trying to isolate him," Peggy warns them both. "And once she's the only person he trusts, that's when her and the rest of those Red Skull scumbags will strike."

"We can't just sit down and let this happen," Bucky seethes, shaking his head. "We can't let her ruin us. We've got too much to lose."

"She told him he can't be friends with me anymore, James, can you believe that?" She asks with a scoff.

While Bucky and Peggy rant in anger, Sam remains silent, sitting back. He knows Peggy well. He knows what it looks like when she lies, or exaggerates the truth.

Which is why he doesn't believe her.

Bucky knows her well, too, but he's too blinded by his rage to notice the way her eyes squint while she speaks and how she keeps wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. He takes everything she says at face value because he's already made his mind up about you.

Although the proof of your relationship with Rumlow was damning, Sam can't help but second guess himself. He sees the way you are with Steve, and he hears the way Steve talks about you. Steve Rogers isn't stupid, and if he trusts that your intentions are pure, why should his friends doubt you?

"Sam?" Peggy pipes up, raising a brow. "You're awfully quiet. Thinking up a plan to expose the truth?"

He looks up at her, his face blank. Slowly, he begins to nod. "Yeah," He replies casually. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

The cold night breeze washes over you as you step outside the building, letting out a huff. With a quick glance down at your watch, you roll your eyes. "Fuckin' Walker," You mutter bitterly.

Because of his coke-fuelled crisis, you had to stay at work an extra three hours, meaning you had to call Steve and cancel date night. He was a sweetheart about it and promised to be at your house waiting for you when you got back, but you're still pissed at John.

"Remember what you're doing this for," You whisper to yourself while your heels clack against the marble stairs. "It's gonna be so worth it to see that bastard rot for what he did."

Making your way to the small car park next to the building, you fish in your purse for your keys when you spot a tall, dark figure by your car. Your stomach drops but you keep on a brave face as you pull out your keys and storm over to the culprit.

"Can I help you?" You call out curtly, narrowing your eyes to get a better view of him.

"Y/N," The oddly familiar voice replies, filled with relief. "Finally. I was starting to think you didn't work here."

When you get closer to him, you can make out his features, and you suck in a breath when you realize who it is.

"Brock?" You gasp, dropping your keys to the ground. "What the fuck?" Without wasting another second, you run into his open arms, your eyes and smile wide while your heart races.

"I missed you, Pretty Drifter," He replies, hugging you tightly.

Pulling back, you frown up at him, shaking your head. "What are you doing here? I thought you were dead!"

"We have a lot to talk about," Brock tells you, scanning your face as a smile grows on his lips. "Now, why hasn't my wife given me a kiss hello, yet, huh?"

wait, what?

Part 8 >

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[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P6

18+

You book a nice trip away with Steve, but the arrival of a certain English rose threatens to postpone your plans.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, mature themes, angst, pick me!Peggy has arrived, smut (switch!steve, mommy kink, daddy kink, dry humping, oral f receiving, penetrative sex), fluff.

Series Masterlist

"I oughta ride you around one day," You say as Steve pulls up outside his house and takes his hands off the handlebars, instead resting them on your waist.

"I'll have to teach you how to ride, first," He replies with a chuckle, to which you stand up and raise a brow at him.

"See? The second I start treating you a little nice, you forget I'm a Drifter," You complain with a huff, making his eyes widen.

He starts to apologize profusely but you simply begin to walk down the path to his door, ignoring him. After a few seconds, he runs up behind you and lifts you up by your waist, making you scream.

"Don't you walk away from me, fifty-three," He warns you lowly, squeezing his arms around you. "Else I'll have to take drastic action."

"Oh, I'm so scared," You say sarcastically, pulling out of his grip and turning to face him. When your eyes meet his, you can't help but grin widely.

"What's that pretty smile for, hmm?" He asks you coyly, grabbing your hips in his hand.

Tilting your head, you rest your hands on his shoulders. "Steve, y'ever been to that lake on the edge of town?" You ask curiously. "The fancy one?"

"Moonshine Lake?" He clarifies with a frown. "No, fiffy, I have not."

His answer makes you more excited as you cling tightly to him. "Well, you and I are going there. Tonight," You inform him.

"We are?" Steve asks with a raised brow as his lips pull up into a smile.

"I booked us one of those lakeside cabins," You reveal proudly. "I thought it'd be nice for us to get away, just for a night."

"I wish you would've told me, fif, I'd have booked it for us," He says sternly.

"Well, you still have all those diamonds, and rings, and Fabergé eggs to get me so you're already doing so much," You tease with a shrug. "Besides, I wanted to do something nice for you."

He brings up one of his hands to cup your face, stroking it gently. "I'm not used to that," He admits lowly.

"Get used to it, Rogers," You order him sternly, before wrapping your arms around him tighter. "I can't wait to get away with you. It'll be nothing but you, me, and the water."

"That sounds like a dream," He says smoothly, leaning down to kiss you.

Just as your lips meet, the distant sound of bikes fills the air. It gradually gets louder, but you and Steve are too deep into the kiss to care. His tongue strokes yours as his hands roam your body, greedily trying to feel every part of you at once. Your hand moves up to run through his hair as you tug on the ends, making him groan.

The bikes pull up and it takes Clint yelling for you to pull away from the kiss. You and Steve share a soft laugh before turning to face the guys, who are accompanied by someone you don't recognize.

The brunette looks the smallest bit familiar, and it isn't until Steve calls out her name that you remember exactly who she is.

"Peggy!" He exclaims happily, walking over to her with open arms.

She looked a little taken aback by your proximity to him, but all is forgotten as she practically jumps into his arms. You turn to share a look with Natasha, who raises a brow at you. Shrugging, you give her a calm smile to let her know that you aren't at all irritated by Peggy's presence.

Yet.

"Fif, this is Peggy," Steve tells you as you walk over to join them, smiling brightly at you. "And Peggy, this is Y/N; my girl."

It still fills your stomach with butterflies to hear him say those words, and you welcome his arm around your waist while giving Peggy a warm smile. "Hi," You greet her. "It's great to meet you. I've heard good things."

"I wish I could say the same!" She says between laughs, shooting a look at Natasha before looking back to you. "It's wonderful to meet you. How long have you two been...?"

"Uh, almost two months, now," Steve tells her, tightening his grip on your waist while teasingly adding, "You'd have known all about it if you ever called."

Peggy's cheeks tinge pink as she glances at the ground. "Well, I've been busy sorting everything out so that I could come here - and now, here I am!"

"Here you are," You echo with a grin.

"C'mon, let's go inside," Bucky suggests, nudging Sam's arm. While the rest of you walk into Steve's house, Bucky gives Sam a raised brow. "This is gonna be interesting."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," Sam seethes with clenched fists. "How long is this gonna go on for? I'm sick of staying quiet while she deceives Steve."

"It won't be long now that Peggy's here, Wilson," Bucky assures him, patting his shoulder. "The truth will come out about Y/N and Rumlow, and their plan to take us down."

"You're sure?" Sam inquires with a raised brow.

Nodding, Bucky gives him a solemn look. "As sure as ever."

"I'm taking Steve to Moonshine tonight," You tell Natasha while pouring out chips into a bowl.

"Oh, yeah?" She asks with a smile while mixing the salsa dip. "So, tonight's the night, huh?"

"Most definitely," You state firmly. "I'm not sleeping until I have had sex with that man."

She laughs heartily at that, before raising a brow. "Has the new arrival helped you make that decision, by any chance?" She wonders.

Just then, the kitchen door swings open and in walks Tony, making you clamp your mouth shut. Noticing the look on your face, Natasha waits for the door to shut again before waving her hand flippantly at you.

"It's alright; Tony's one of us," She explains lightly. "He knows all about Peggy's crush."

"You told her?" Tony asks with wide eyes as he walks further in. "Thank God; I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep it in."

Shaking your head, you sigh. "To answer your question, Nat, no. Peggy's arrival had no impact on my decision; I've been wanting to sleep with Steve for a while now. Just wanted it to be special," You explain truthfully.

"How sweet," She teases, before looking over at Tony. "How are things going out there?"

"As predicted, Peggy's latched onto Steve," Tony says with a bored tone as he leans back against the counter. "You might wanna go and claim your stake, Y/N."

"Nah, I trust Steve," You say, turning to face him. "He didn't get the hint last time she was here, and that was when he was single."

"Very mature and level-headed of you," Natasha comments with a raised brow.

"To be honest, they're talking an awful lot about you," Tony reveals. "She keeps asking him questions about you."

"Really?" You ask with a frown. "Why?"

"Why do you think?" Natasha scoffs. "You're dating the man she's obsessed with. It makes sense that she wants to know all about your relationship."

"Not just their relationship, though," Tony corrects her. "I mean specifically you, Y/N. Steve looked like he was getting a little irritated at how she was digging for details on your past."

"My past?" You repeat incredulously, before grabbing the bowl of chips. "Alright, that's it. I've given them enough time to catch up. I'm going back out there."

Natasha and Tony follow you out of the kitchen and into the living room, where the others are sitting around on the couches. To no surprise, Peggy's sitting next to Steve, so you put the bowl of chips on the coffee table and sit on one of the bean bags, between Thor and Tony.

"Well, you can ask her yourself, now," Steve says, pointing at you with his beer.

"What's that?" You ask, raising a brow when you know damn well what he's talking about.

Peggy sits up, resting her hand on Steve's forearm. "I was just asking him about your biker gang," She explains. "The Drifters are legendary; it's so cool to know that you used to be one."

"I'm still a Drifter," You correct her, grabbing a beer from the table. "You seem pretty into the life. Are you in a gang back home?"

"Actually, there's a group of Howlin' Commandos back in England," Steve informs you. "Peggy's dad, along with Tony's, runs it."

"No way!" You exclaim with wide eyes. "How interesting."

Peggy giggles, nodding. "We're all one big family," She tells you. "And nothing can come between family."

Odd of her to say. You simply shrug it off, taking a long swig of beer. Sam sits forward on the couch, looking around the circle. "Everyone, clean your bikes and wash your hair. We're going to the Saloon tonight," He announces.

While the others burst into murmurs of excitement, Steve frowns. "Actually, man,fif and I have plans tonight," He tells him regretfully, and you bite back a smile.

That's your man.

Bucky's brow furrow as he shakes his head. "C'mon, man, you guys can hang out anytime," He says. "It's Peg's first night back; we have to celebrate!"

Steve says nothing in response and you sink down into the bean bag, tightening the grip on your beer.

That's not your man.

"So, Y/N, how did you and Steve meet?" Peggy asks you as she scoots to the edge of the couch, before patting Steve's knee and giving him a smile. "Must've been something special to get this guy off the market."

You grit your teeth at the hand which she leaves on his knee, but you manage to give her a fake smile. "He moved in next door a few months ago," You tell her. "Steve was sweet, and helpful, and I guess it just developed from there."

"Oh, really?" Steve asks you with a scoff and a smirk, before turning to Peggy. "Fif hated me at the start. It took a while for her to warm to me."

"Fif?" Peggy repeats, confused.

Tony sits up next to you with an excited look. "It's short for fifty-three; Y/N's door number. Ain't that just the cutest damn thing y'ever heard?"

You and Steve share a laugh while Peggy nods. "Oh. Sort of how Steve calls me his strawberry!" She gushes with a grin. "Because I love strawberries, and one time- oh, it's a long story; I don't want to bore you."

Letting out a long huff through your nose, you you struggle to remain polite. "That's cute," You state curtly.

"Our Steve's a sucker for nicknames, I suppose," She says to you, making you feel nauseous.

Our Steve? Go fuck yourself.

Suddenly, Steve stands up, and you find it's much easier to breathe when he hasn't got Peggy's hand resting on his thigh. "Thor, you want me to check out that problem you were having with your bike?" He asks, to which the gentle giant to your left nods.

"Sure," Thor replies before gulping down the last of his beer and getting up. The both of them leave the house while Peggy, to your dismay, takes Thor's seat next to you.

"So, seeing as you've left Detroit," She begins. "What do you do for work?"

"I, uh, I work in the mayor's office," You inform her.

Her face drops at your words. "You work for Walker?" She asks with a raised brow. "Even with everything he does to destroy our gangs?"

"I advise him on his public appearances, speeches, and budgetary decisions," You say firmly. "His opinion on biker gangs is neither agreed with nor influenced by mine."

"Right," She says slowly. "But, you do advocate for what he believes in? That's what it means to directly work for a political figure, no?"

"Not exactly," You correct her, feeling your blood heat up. "I wouldn't be working for him if I felt that I was compromising the values my uncle instilled in me. I appreciate your concern, but I'm not the type to jeopardize my loyalty."

Peggy glances over at Sam before giving you an unreadable look. "That's good to know," She comments lowly.

Feeling as though you're inches away from lunging at her, you stand up and put down your half-empty beer on the table. "I'm gonna go out there," You announce, gesturing to the window. "Those two don't have an ounce of common sense between them."

"I'll come, too!" Peggy says, making your jaw clench. "It's been so long since I've seen my boys at work."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"- just saying, Rogers, you don't wanna lose a woman like - Y/N! Peggy! Hey, ladies," Thor calls out as he sees you both walking down the pathway. "Come to watch?"

"To help, actually," You reply with a cocky smirk. "What's the problem?"

Steve's bent over and looking at the engine, so you take the opportunity to slap his ass. His head shoots over to you before he chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm gonna get you back for that later," He warns, though his threat only serves to excite you.

"Looking forward to it, baby," You tease, not missing the way Peggy's nose twitches at your interaction.

"Just a vacuum leak," Thor informs you, patting Steve's back.

You nudge Steve out of the way before taking a look at it yourself. The sight makes you wince as you turn back to Thor. "This baby is in desperate need of a new rubber seal," You decide, standing back up again.

"Bring it to the shop on Monday," Steve orders him.

"Oh, how I've missed the garage!" Peggy exclaims giddily, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I can't wait to see it again."

Steve's nonchalant reaction to Peggy being all over him is nothing short of irritating, so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"This is a really sexy bike, Thor," You comment lowly, stroking the handlebars. "If you took it a little easy on her, she'd be in much better shape."

He sits on the bike, giving you a smirk. "I don't go on easy on anyone, sweetheart," He quips. "Not even my bike."

"Well, I feel bad for the people you date," You say lowly.

"Don't," He tells you with a wink. "They love it."

"And who's they?" Steve interjects, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side. "Thor hasn't dated anyone since 2006."

"Screw you, Rogers," He mumbles bitterly, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I've missed you boys," Peggy chimes in, moving closer to Steve. "I'm so glad to be back."

"How long are you here for, Peg?" Thor inquires.

The two of them fall into conversation while you pull Steve to the side and rest your hands on his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes. "Stevie?" You begin, giving him your sweetest puppy-dog eyes.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks, concern in his eyes.

"We're still going to Moonshine, right?" You question him softly.

He cups your face, stroking your cheek. "Of course we are, honey," He replies. "You wanted to take me away, so you will. I don't care what the guys say; Peggy's gonna be here for a while. She won't mind if we miss her first night."

"Right," You say, his mention of the guys making you falter.

"What's wrong?" He asks you with a frown.

"It's just..." You so badly want to tell him about the bad feeling you're getting. About how Sam and Bucky haven't really been talking to you, or even looking at you recently. But you don't want to cause an issue when there might not even be one - instead, you give him a smile. "I bought lingerie specifically for this trip, so I didn't want it to go to waste."

"Is that right, fiffy?" Steve mumbles with a smirk. "Just for me?"

"Just for you," You confirm, leaning up to kiss him. Though you can feel Peggy's eyes burning into you as your tongue dances with Steve's, you don't care.

That's your man.

The cabin is even more romantic than you imagined. Fairy lights illuminate the open-plan rooms of the downstairs area, with full-length windows against one of the walls giving you a perfect view of the lake.

You stand at the window, watching as the water gently flows under the night sky, and Steve wraps his arms around you while resting his chin on your shoulder.

"This was a great idea," He murmurs, kissing your neck softly. "Thank you, baby."

"Of course," You whisper back, smiling widely as you rest your hands on top of his. "I love having you all to myself. Especially now that..."

He lifts his head up and frowns when you trail off. "Now that what?" He questions you.

You turn around to face him and shake your head. "Nothing," You assure him before leaning up.

Dodging your kiss, he raises a brow. "Tell me if something's wrong, fif," He orders you sternly. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing serious," You promise with a small smile. "I guess I'm feeling a little... possessive."

Confused, Steve narrows his eyes. "And who's the culprit, huh?"

You roll your eyes, resting your arms on his shoulders. "I mean, you and Peggy are pretty close," You say quietly, feeling foolish. "Don't you think?"

He takes a few seconds to contemplate your question. "We're friends," He decides to say simply.

"You and Nat are friends. You and Wanda are friends," You retort. "Don't you think your relationship with Peggy is different?"

Steve sighs, raising his brows. "That's just because Peggy's different to them. She's a lot more sensitive and open with her emotions," He explains. "Plus, she's been away for so long, we had a lot to catch up on."

"Right," You say with a nod. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe I'm being dramatic. I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize; it's only natural that you wondered," He assures you, stroking your hips while a sly smirk grows on his lips. "I have to say, baby, envy is a sexy color on you."

"Shut up," You grumble.

"I mean it," He claims as his eyes darken. "How about you remind me who I belong to, hmm? Prove that you own me."

Your lips part as your legs squeeze together, your heart racing at his words.

"Show me," He mumbles lowly into your ear, his deep voice trailing down your spine. "Make me yours, baby."

Without wasting another second, you take his hand and lead him up the wooden stairs, in a rush to make it to the bedroom. Once there, you sit him down on the bed and stand before him, peeling off your shirt.

He looks you up and down with delight in his eyes, resting his weight on his palms as he sits back.

"Maybe I haven't made it clear enough yet that nobody else gets to touch you," You state curtly, unbuttoning your denim shorts. "And that was a mistake on my part. But I'm not one to make the same mistake twice."

Steve lets out a whimper as you pull off your shorts and get onto his lap in nothing but your new, black lingerie bodysuit. You help him take off his t-shirt before rubbing his boner, making him shudder.

"Oh, f- fuck," He whispers as his head falls back. "Mommy."

His weak, soft voice turns you on like nothing else. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, his bottom lip trembling when you unzip his jeans and pull them off of his legs. He glances down at his hard cock poking through his boxers and bites his lip before looking back up at you.

Slowly, you slide forward until your heat is sitting on his clothed dick, making him groan lowly. The feeling of his cock pressing to your pussy through your lacey lingerie makes you wetter with each second that passes by, and you slowly begin to grind your hips. Your lips latch onto his neck and you bite down, purposely wanting to leave a temporary bruise as though you're marking your territory.

"Oh, shit," He hisses as you move, his hands stroking up your body as he stares at you unabashedly. "You look so fuckin' hot in your slutty lingerie, mommy."

"Yeah?" You whisper, smirking. "How does this feel, baby?"

"So good," Steve whines, helping you move your hips as his breaths quicken. "I'm so fucking hard for you, mommy. Fuck."

"I know, baby, I can feel your big cock getting ready for me," You tease him. "Gonna be my good boy, Stevie?"

"Yes," He replies immediately, tightening his grip on your waist. "I'll be good for you, mommy, I promise."

"That's my baby," You praise him with a smile as you grind down on him. "I can't wait to feel you inside me."

Something changes in his eyes as he cups your neck in his hand and pulls you closer. "Yeah? Wanna feel my thick cock fill you up?"

"Please," You whisper as you rest your forehead against his, rocking your hips quicker. "I need you inside me."

With that, Steve snaps. He picks you up and tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, before kneeling onto it and crawling towards you. "You're gonna get it, baby," He mutters, carelessly ripping apart the bottom half of your bodysuit. "Daddy's gonna make you feel real good."

A whimper escapes your mouth as he mounts you. "Stevie-"

"Remember what I told you on our first date?" He questions you, making you cast your mind back to the picnic at the edge of the woods. With a smirk, he leans forward. "I told you that the first thing I was gonna do to you was eat you out." Moving closer to you, his breath hits your lips. "I don't break promises, baby."

With a racing heart, you watch as he slowly moves down the bed, hovering over your body. Once he gets to your legs, he kisses your inner thighs, making you shiver with anticipation.

He breathes in through his nose and his eyes roll back. "Been dreamin' of your sweet pussy for so long, baby," He admits with a gravelly voice. "She's already so wet for me. Gonna let me have a taste, fiffy?"

"Please," You whine, bucking your hips up.

Growling as he inches closer to your cunt, Steve finally puts you out of your misery. His tongue begins to ardently lap at your pussy, sending electric waves through your body.

"Oh, just like that," You moan, pulling his hair desperately. "Don't stop, daddy."

He lets out small groans as his blue eyes stare up at you, watching you writhe while he drowns you in pleasure. His tongue spears into you while his nose brushes against your clit, making you cry out loudly. Steve shakes his head from side to side, shooting you a wink when your legs start to shake.

"I can feel you getting close," He grumbles against your heat, his low voice sending you vibrations. "Cum for me, baby."

When he sucks on your clit, you arch your back and feel your climax hit you in waves. With a loud moan of his name, you shudder beneath him, feeling weightless as you float through a sky of bliss.

Steve groans as he sucks up your juices, relishing in your pussy as his cheeks and chin grow moist with your slick. His hands stroke the lace of your bodysuit as he licks you through your high, pulling away only when you push his forehead back, unable to take anymore.

"Fuck," He whispers, crawling back up to you. "She tastes better than I dreamed."

A weak laugh leaves your mouth as you cup his cheeks, still utterly overwhelmed. "Holy shit," You mumble, eyes wide. "I'm never letting you leave me, cowboy."

Chuckling, he places his mouth on yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue with a filthy kiss. When he pulls back, he looks you up and down, his eyes darkening. "Got this just for me, hmm?" He murmurs, stroking your breasts through the bodysuit and making you shiver. Without warning, he takes two fistfuls of it before ripping it apart. He smirks mischievously when you gasp as his eyes twinkle. "I'll buy you some more, fif."

His apology is barely registered by you as he latches his mouth onto your hard nipple, making you forget everything except for how to process pleasure. He hums against your breast, sucking it unabashedly while squeezing the other in his hand.

"Stevie," You cry, throwing your head back against the pillow. "I- I, Steve, I-"

"Shh," He hushes you, leaning up and kissing you gently. "You don't need to think, baby. Just let me fuck your dumb little brains out, yeah?"

Instinctively, your legs spread for him, making him smirk. He slots himself between them before pulling down his boxers and slapping his heavy cock against your wet pussy, the tip hitting your clit.

"Daddy," You whine, arching your back. "I need you, please."

He gradually pushes his length into you, inch by thick inch, his jaw clenching as he fills you up. When he bottoms out, he shudders and tenses every muscle in his body in an attempt to refrain from cumming right then and there.

Not yet, Rogers. Don't embarrass yourself. She'll never sleep with you again if you can barely last three seconds.

You raise a brow at his tense features, and bite back a smile. "Are you about to-"

"Fuck you, no, I'm not," He cuts you off gruffly with a glare.

Bursting into laughter, you press your hands to his chest, shaking your head.

His heart skips a beat at the way your cunt tightens around him and your core shakes with each bout of laughter, vibrating around his length. With a growl, he narrows his eyes. "Stop laughing like that or you'll actually make me cum," He warns you lowly. "Oh, sweet Jesus."

Loud laughs leave your mouth at his words and he instantly slaps his hand over your lips. Without a word, he pulls out of you before thrusting back in, stealing your breath and making your lips part. Your moans are muffled against his hand as he builds up a rhythm, before he moves it off, allowing you to be as loud as you want.

"Your pussy is fuckin' magical, fif," He groans, hooking his arm under your right leg and lifting it up so he can fuck you deeper. "Oh, my God. I never wanna leave."

"I'm on birth control, so you never have to," You inform him breathlessly.

Your revelation makes his brows shoot up and he falls forward to rest his forehead against yours. "I think I'm in love with you," He whispers, to which you snort and hit his shoulder.

"Shut up and fuck me, Rogers," You demand, cupping his face in your hands and keeping him close to you.

Happily complying, he continues thrusting his hips, pressing a kiss to your knee before resting your leg on his shoulder. His cock reaches places you didn't even know existed, brushing against your g-spot in the most gorgeous way.

"Oh, daddy, yes," You whine, digging your nails into his back. "Faster, faster."

He lets out a grunt with each thrust, his hands playing with your tits. "You feel so good, baby," Steve groans in disbelief. "Like you were fuckin' made for me."

"I was, daddy," You whimper. "I was made for you. Only you."

"That's right; only me," He mumbles, slamming into you. "I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this. Fuck you this good. You're my pretty baby, all mine."

"Yes, yes, yes," You cry as your skin tingles. "I- I think I'm close, daddy."

"Yeah? My good little girl's gonna cum for me?" He asks you teasingly with a cocky grin. "Go ahead, baby, fuck, cum all over me."

You take in a deep breath and feel your physical body lighten as your climax overtakes you. Your stomach flips and your cunt clenches around his cock, in turn making him groan.

"Fuck, you feel so good," He says breathlessly, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his end approaches. "That's my good girl. Cum for me."

Wanton moans fly from your mouth like free birds finding their wings as you glide on pure pleasure. An intense feeling of relief washes over you as your entire body relaxes, your eyes rolling back in bliss.

Grabbing your hips, Steve fucks you harder just as he finishes, shooting his load into you with a growl. "Cumming so fucking hard for you, baby," He utters, his words spilling into your open mouth. "Take it. Take daddy's cum in that tight little pussy."

"Oh, Steve," You sigh loudly, clinging onto him and hugging him close to your body. His face rests in your neck while he thrusts a few more times, waiting until he's fully spent before pulling out of you with a shudder.

"Holy fuck," He whispers, breathing heavily as he rests his weight on you. A few minutes pass by as you both come down from your highs, recovering from the intensity of your orgasms. His hand finds yours and your fingers link together, and he presses soft kisses to your neck, making your stomach flutter.

"My God, Steven," You mutter, shaking your head. "If I knew you were that good, I'd have fucked you the second you moved in."

He snorts, lifting his head up to look at you. "And if I knew you'd feel that good around me, I'd have hunted you down long before I moved in," He replies smoothly.

You laugh at that, pushing him onto his back and getting on top of him.

"Oh? You wanna go again?" Steve asks with a raised brow, glancing down at your tits. "You're gonna have to give me a second to recover, fif."

"Shut up, I just wanna look at you," You mumble, stroking his cheek. "You're really pretty.'

"And you're beautiful," He retorts, wrapping his hand around your wrist and kissing your palm. "I love being alone with you like this. I could do this forever."

"I think I'd get sick of you after a couple of days," You say, tilting your head.

Steve pouts, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back onto the bed on your side while turning to face you. "You'd never get sick of me, fif; you like me too much," He claims boldly.

"You think?" You question him, tracing lines on his face.

"Mhm," He confirms. "You like me more than you'd care to admit."

"Says the one who just said he was in love with me during sex," You tease him with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He states curtly, pushing you on your back and getting back on top of you. His eyes burn into yours as a pretty smile blossoms on his lips. "I'm really glad you gave me a chance, fifty-three. I promise I'll do everything in my power to make sure you never regret it."

His words bring you warmth as you lean up to kiss him through your smile. "I'm really glad too, Rogers. And I promise, if you do anything that makes me regret it, I'll kill you," You say.

"Valid," He comments before grinning and kissing you again. And again. And again.

Part 7 >

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#YEAAAAAHHHH #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #biker!steve #series #smut

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P5

18+

You open up to Steve about your insecurities, and it's a relief to finally quit the hard-to-get game - but when Sam and Bucky's plan is put into motion, Natasha gives you some interesting information.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Reader, mature themes, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, sexual language, smut (thigh riding, daddy kink, degradation), mention of Peggy Carter.

Series Masterlist

The second you leave your car, you make your way straight to Steve's house instead of your own. Work was exhausting, and you just need to see your man.

Thankfully, the only bike parked outside is his, so you know that he's home alone. As you walk up the pathway, he opens the door with a knowing smirk, leaning against the doorway. "Evening, fif," He greets you, looking you up and down. "Just got in from work?"

"I want Chinese," You huff, slamming your bag into his chest as you push past him and walk into his house. "Extra egg rolls."

An hour later, you're snuggled against his chest, full and happy while watching TV. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, and your legs are resting across his lap. You take his hand and start toying with his rings, humming with content. You could get used to this.

"It's crazy how much food can change your mood," He comments with a chuckle. "You go from a scary dragon to an adorable little kitten."

Lifting your head to look up at him, you smile widely. "You really think I'm scary?"

He narrows his eyes at you. "Maybe," He teases. "I know how to tame you, though."

You let out a scoff at his bold claim. "Oh, really? And how's that, Rog?"

Leaning closer, he presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back and winking. "Good food, and great dick."

His words make you snort as you shake your head at him. "You haven't even given me your dick, yet. Not properly."

With darkening eyes, he tightens his arm around you. "I should fix that, hmm?" He asks lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.

Stay strong.

"Not tonight, Rogers," You say curtly, turning back to the TV as if his words and touch don't have an effect on you.

"Really, fif?" He asks softly, nuzzling his nose against your jaw. "You don't want me to fuck you right here on my couch?"

As much as you'd love to give in, you know you can't. If this was anyone else, you'd happily sleep with them - but now, you've grown attached to Steve's presence, and you actually want him to stick around. And that's something people don't tend to do once they've had sex with you.

To keep him wanting you, you need to keep him wanting. As stupid as you know it sounds, you don't have the strength to risk losing him. Which you absolutely fucking hate.

"That isn't very romantic," You say nonchalantly.

"You want romance?" He asks, turning to face you. "I can give you romance, fif."

"Oh, shut it," You mutter, pushing his chest back.

His face falls slightly and grabs the remote before turning down the volume of the TV. Pulling you closer to him, he links his fingers with yours. "Stop pushing me away, fif."

"Rog-"

"I mean it," He says sternly, glancing down at your neck. "I didn't give you that chain just for show. It means something to me. It means a lot."

Raising a brow, you purse your lips. "Oh, yeah? And how many other girls have worn it? Everyone seemed to know straight away what me wearing this chain meant. You must give it out a lot," You say bitterly, immediately regretting it. Stop being being to him. He doesn't deserve it.

"Are you serious, fif?" He asks with a whisper, pain in his eyes.

You simply shrug, "Am I wrong?"

Sighing, he moves back. "Yeah. Yeah, fif, you are wrong. You're the first woman I've given my chain to. The only fuckin' one."

It's almost like you can't stop yourself from being a total bitch. "What did the last one get, then? A ring?"

Letting out a dry laugh, he stands up. "Have I done something to make you think you can't trust me?" He asks you, furrowing his brows. "I haven't and wouldn't do any of this for anyone else. Why are you questioning it so much?"

"Rogers-"

"Why are you questioning something that's making you happy?" He cuts you off sternly. "Why can't you just let it make you happy?"

You raise a brow and open your mouth to speak, but he gets there first.

"And I don't wanna hear no, 'bold to assume you make me happy' bullshit, Y/N," He states. "Just be real with me. No more games."

Defeated, you nod, sitting up. "Okay. You're right, Steve. I'm sorry."

He rubs his mouth, taking a few seconds before sitting back down next to you. His voice is calmer when he speaks again. "Just tell me what is it, fiffy," He requests. "Tell me what you're worried about. Why do you find it hard to let me in? I like you, and I know you like me. Can't it just be that simple?"

"It's..." You trail off, recoiling back. "We haven't even had sex yet."

"Is that what it is?" He asks you with a raised brow. "Are we moving too slow?"

"No, not at all, it's just..." You let out a sigh, knowing there's no way you'll move past this unless you're completely honest with him. "I know you deserve better than to be compared to the other people I've been with, but the fact remains that sex... makes them lose interest. I've been chased in the past; I've been convinced that it's me they want, but then I sleep with them, and it's like they've won. They got the trophy they were after, and there's nothing else of value for them to gain."

His face softens at your words. "Fif, I had no idea."

"I usually move very fast with romantic partners because I feel as though sex is the only thing of value I offer," You go on to say, unable to meet his eyes as you tell him the things you haven't even fully admitted to yourself yet. "It- I feel like there's nothing else all that attractive or interesting about me, so I throw my body at my partners in hopes that that'll be enough to make them stay."

Your admission makes his heart break as he squeezes your hand. Seeing someone so strong open up and being vulnerable is difficult for him, and he knows it must be even harder for you to drop the front.

"Growing up as a girl in a male-dominated environment meant that I was sexualized pretty early on," You tell him. "Of course, Uncle Vin did everything in his power to protect me from that stuff, but he couldn't protect me from basic ideals and expectations. I was always acutely aware of my femininity, and I felt like I had to overcompensate for the masculine nature of my environment by being overly sexual. And that wasn't healthy."

Steve listens to you, stroking your back soothingly as you talk.

"And now, I'm left with this shitty idea that sex is all I can give someone," You say, before smiling at him. "But you don't make me feel that way. You listen to me, and you respect me. You know that I'm smart, and capable of holding my own. I just... I really didn't wanna lose that."

"And you think that having sex with me would make my feelings change, at all?" He asks, shaking his head. "Baby, the way I feel about you isn't that shallow. You think it's that easy for you to get rid of me?"

You laugh softly at his words. "I really am sorry for taking out my insecurities on you," You say lowly. "You deserve better than that. You've done nothing but treat me with respect since we met."

"I'm obsessed with you, fiffy," Steve tells you proudly. "If anything, sleeping with you will only amplify the way I feel. I am so, so sorry for the shitty cards you've been dealt, but all I can do is promise to give you better ones. In fact, we can play a whole other game."

"Yeah?" You ask, feeling your heart sore. "Can we play Go Fish?"

"Oh, absolutely," He says with a laugh. "I was thinking more along the lines of Strip Poker, though."

"Steven-"

"Kidding," He assures you, wrapping his arm around you. "You're my girl. I'll play whatever you want, as long as you let me win."

"No can do, guy. I'm competitive," You warn him, leaning closer to him. "And a very sore loser."

"Losing ain't all that bad when it's to me, fiffy," He promises lowly. "And ain't nothing wrong with being a little sore."

You raise a brow. "Is that right?"

"Mhm," He hums, before his face turns serious. "But seriously, fif, I like you a lot. I want to do this properly with you. I want all of it. All of you. The good, the bad, and the ugly."

"There is no ugly part of me," You tell him, raking your fingers through his beard.

"You're right," He agrees with a smirk. "Except for your cum face."

Gasping, you hit his shoulder. "You bastard!"

"I'm kidding!" He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against his chest. "Your cum face is a thing of dreams, fif; it's gorgeous. You're gorgeous."

"And you'll never see it again, prick," You grumble bitterly, attempting to push him away but failing.

"You are gorgeous," He repeats firmly, tilting your head up. "Every little part of you has me at a loss."

Although you want desperately to roll your eyes and call bullshit, you instead tell yourself to just let yourself be happy. Let him make you happy.

"You're alright too, I guess," You mumble with a small smile.

He leans down and kisses you sweetly, before pulling back with a coy grin. "You gonna let me fuck you, now?"

Glaring at him, you wrap your hand around his throat. "I'm gonna kill you," You threaten while he laughs heartily.

"I swear, fif-" He stops midway when you accidentally squeeze the sides of his next a little, his eyes widening as his lips part. You instantly recognize the look on his face as his eyes darken and a shaky breath leaves his mouth.

"You were saying?" You ask lowly, raising a brow.

Shaking his head, he blinks profusely. "I- I don't remember."

You smirk before releasing his throat. "You're too easy, Rogers."

Collecting his composure, Steve clears his throat before sitting back. "Shut up," He mutters bitterly, to which you snort.

"Aw, it's okay," You coo, pinching his reddened cheek. "I like knowing I can fluster you at any moment."

"Yeah, bet it gives you a little power rush, don't it?" He says, raising a brow at you.

"Mhm," You confirm, moving closer to him. "Feels real good."

He opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, your phone rings. Frowning, you pull it out of your pocket and clench your jaw when you see the caller ID. You move out of Steve's embrace and stand up before picking up the call.

"What is it, Walker?" You ask with a tone of irritation. Steve immediately rolls his eyes, slumping down on the couch.

"I need you to come back to the office," John tells you with an exhausted voice. "There's been a problem."

"What problem?" You interrogate, narrowing your eyes. Steve stands up, wrapping his arms around your waist as he stares down at you with a raised brow.

"An issue with the... monthly delivery," John elaborates cryptically. "Look, just come in so I can explain this shit properly to you."

Holding back your groan, you throw your head back and stare up at the ceiling. "Fine. But you're giving me tomorrow off."

"Fine with me, just get here ASAP," He orders before hanging up.

You toss your phone to the couch, sighing. Steve cups your cheek in his hand, tilting his head. "What was that about?"

A sly smile grows on your face. "Let's just say," You begin coyly. "That our dear Mayor has run into a bit of trouble."

"Oh, yeah?" Steve asks with a smirk. "Are you trying to screw him over, fif?"

"Not just trying. Succeeding," You correct him arrogantly. "But that's a story for a different day. I gotta go, Rogers."

He pouts at that, holding you tighter. "No. Stay with me, baby."

"I'll lose my job if I don't do as he says," You say begrudgingly. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

"How long are you gonna be?" He asks with a frown. "It's already eight."

"I don't know; shouldn't be too long. Couple of hours, tops," You tell him.

"I'll take you," Steve offers. "And pick you up, too. It's gonna be late. And dark."

"Not dark enough to mask the sound of your bike," You say with a raised brow. "If John finds out that I've been canoodling with you, he'll fire me. He doesn't even know we're neighbors."

With furrowed brows, he folds his arms across his chest. "Well, tell him. Tell him your nice neighbor offered to give you a ride, and play dumb when he realizes it's me."

"And what about when he tells me to move house?" You ask with a scoff.

"He can't make you move," Steve states defensively. "The most he'll do is tell you to stay away from me, or some bullshit."

"And then he'll keep tabs on me to make sure I'm obeying him," You add dryly. "Trust me, Steve, John finding out I've even spoken to you will only cause trouble, so unless you want this to end, keep yourself and your damn bike away from my place of work. Got it?"

Slowly, a smirk breaks out on his lips. "God, I love when you get all bossy on me."

"Fuck you," You grumble, pushing his chest but failing to move him even an inch.

"Yes, please," He says teasingly, placing his hands on your waist. "Quick one before you go to that prick, John?"

"Nice rhyme, but no," You refuse, taking his hands off you, moving closer to him and lowering your voice. "I'm gonna rock your fucking world the first time we have sex, and that cannot be achieved with a quickie."

He swallows thickly as his brows lift up. "Oh. Right."

"I'm glad you understand, toots," You say, lightly slapping his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

With his head reeling and his cock throbbing, he nods, mumbling, "Miss you already."

"Steve, someone's gonna hear us!"

"They won't, fiffy," He assures as you he pulls you onto his lap. The kitchen is empty but the room next door is filled with his friends, which puts you on edge. "Kiss me," He requests with a mumble, giving you no choice as he pulls you in by the chin and plants a sloppy kiss on your lips.

He nudges his thigh between your legs, raising it up and rubbing it against your crotch. "Steven, ah," You gasp as you feel your panties soak.

"You can't tell me you wore this tiny little skirt and didn't think I'd take advantage of it," He mutters darkly. "When you dress like a slut, you get treated like one. Understand?"

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes widen. "Steve."

"No," He says curtly, wrapping his hand around your throat. "That isn't my name."

With your pussy throbbing against his thigh, you let out a whimper. "Daddy."

"That's my girl," He whispers, stroking your neck. "Ride daddy's thigh. Show me how fuckin' desperate and slutty you are."

His words take over your mind and free it of any other thoughts, leaving you docile for him. As though he can sense it, Steve chuckles arrogantly, before placing his hands on your hips and helping you grind them.

"My dumb little baby needs help, hmm?" He coos teasingly against your lips. "Can't do it by yourself? Need daddy to take control?"

You let out a weak moan as your head falls back and your lips part. "That f- feels so good," You manage to say. Regaining some composure, you place your hands on his shoulders and begin to rock your hips back and forth, shuddering as your clothed clit rubs against his jeans.

"That's it; be a big girl," Steve says with a smirk. "You wanna make daddy proud?"

"Please," You cry as your head falls to rest against his neck.

"Then make yourself cum, baby," He orders you. "Show me what a good slut you can be. Cum all over me."

Meanwhile, in the living room, Sam gets up from the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, aiming to get himself another beer. When he walks in, though, he's faced with the sight of you riding Steve's thigh and letting out quiet moans, your mouths attached in a heavy kiss.

The sound of the door steals your attention as you pull away Steve, ceasing your hip movements when you spot Sam. Gasping slightly, you widen your eyes.

Looking over at him, Steve raises a brow, visibly irritated at the interruption. "Hey, Wilson. You good?"

"Yup," Sam replies flippantly, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. "Just topping up."

"Right," Steve replies with a nod.

Sam goes to leave, before remembering Bucky's words from the night before.

"We can't let their relationship develop any further," Bucky warned him. "They haven't had sex yet, which is our one saving grace."

"Sam?" Steve repeats with a frown. "You sure you're alright?"

Landing back in reality, Sam nods. "Absolutely fine," He assures him, before walking closer to where you're both sitting at the table. "Hey, Y/N, I've been meaning to ask you something."

Subtly, you lift your crotch off of Steve's thigh and move to sit on his lap, instead. "Uh, sure. Fire away," You reply, not expecting him to have stayed after catching you dry humping his best friend's leg, and a little irritated that he interrupted your orgasm.

"Could I get a look at your tattoo?" Sam asks, unable to think of anything else on the spot.

You go to lift up your shirt, but Steve grabs your wrist and stops you with a stern look. He then turns to Sam with the same look. "You've seen Drifter tattoos before, Wilson," He utters curtly.

Knowing he's pissing Steve off more and more by the second, Sam keeps up the innocent act. "I know, but Buck mentioned something about flowers; he said it looked really good," He says casually.

Pulling out of Steve's grip, you go to lift up your shirt again, eager to show off your ink. When Steve tries to stop you again, you roll your eyes at him. "I won't take my shirt off; I'll just show him the tattoo," You argue. "Besides; it's only Sam."

Begrudgingly, Steve allows you to lift up your shirt until the full tattoo comes into view. Sam looks closely at it, trying to spot discrepancies or parts where it's rubbed off. Seeing nothing, he reaches forward with his fingers as though to touch it - but the second he reaches towards you, Steve grabs his fingers in a vice-like grip.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steve utters gravely, using his free hand to pull your shirt back down. The fact that he was horny as all fuck just a few minutes ago has hightened his emotions, and thus his anger. You stay quiet, not wanting to get involved in their intensity.

"Shit. Sorry, I just, uh..." Sam trails off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Too many beers, I think."

Narrowing his eyes at him, Steve releases his fingers. "Maybe you should lay off of them. Don't wanna have to beat your ass for being a dipshit," He warns Sam.

"Of course, boss," Sam agrees, stepping back.

"Pizza time!" Wanda's distant voice yells from the front door, making you get off of Steve's lap with a jump.

"Finally!" You exclaim excitedly before rushing off to the living room. Sam gives Steve a pursed-lip smile before the both of them follow you.

Sitting around the table, the group is eating pizza and fries when Natasha raises a brow, shooting you a pointed look. "Nice chain, Y/N. Where'd you get it from?"

You smile slyly at her words while Steve smirks next to her. Rolling her eyes, Wanda scoffs, "You know damn well where she got it from, Nat."

"Very nice," Natasha comments, nodding. "It's about time Rogers had a little romance in his life. Might make him less grumpy, and maybe even likeable."

Steve nudges her shoulder, before shooting you a wink. You grin down at your plate, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush as your stomach flips.

Next to you, Bucky clears his throat. "Uh, guys, I have some exciting news," He announces, gaining everybody's attention before continuing. "Peggy's coming to town."

Most of the people around the table burst into happy claims of surprise, but Natasha's face immediately drops. "What?" She asks him with a frown.

"Yeah, she's been meaning to come back for a while now, but couldn't leave the business alone," Bucky goes on to explain. "But she finally sold it and she's able to come."

Natasha looks at Steve, then to you. Steve seems confused at her expression, but he shrugs it off. "It'll be nice to see her," He says with a nod, before smiling at you. "You can meet her, too, fif. I think you'd get along."

Bucky and Sam share a quick glance while the others vocalize their excitement to see Peggy again. You're excited for them, as if they like her, then you're sure she's a pleasant woman.

Once everyone's done eating, Natasha offers to bring out some more beers from the kitchen, and she asks you to give her a hand.

The second you walk into the kitchen, she shuts the door behind you and lets out a sigh.

"Everything alright, Nat?" You ask with concern.

"I have to talk to you," She tells you lowly. "I just thought... I mean, I'd wanna know if I was in your shoes."

With a looming sense of unease, you rest your weight against the island. "What exactly are we talking about, here?"

She blows out a breath before finally meeting your eyes. "Peggy's in love with your boyfriend."

Your initial instinct is to laugh, so that's what you do. "What?" You ask, before sobering when you realize she's being serious. "No, Steve told me that nothing happened between them."

"In his eyes, sure," Natasha says, keeping her hand on the handle of the door as if she's afraid someone will try to walk in. "When Peggy first moved here, she fell in love with Steve instantly. Pined after him for almost a year; I was the only one she told. And then, he slept with my sister."

Your brows shoot up. "Oh."

"Peggy was so distraught, she moved back to London," Natasha reveals, taking you aback.

"She moved back because of Steve?" You ask, astounded.

"Yep. And now... I have no fucking idea why she's coming back," She grumbles, rubbing her face.

Deciding not to be concerned just yet, you shrug. "I mean, it's been a while, right?"

"Four years," She tells you.

"So, surely she's over him," You say nonchalantly. "Who stays in love with someone they haven't seen for four years?"

"You'd be surprised," She mutters bitterly.

Tracing your fingers over the faint cracks on the island, you purse your lips. "I'm not worried," You claim, not sure whether you're trying to convince her or yourself.

"I don't think you should be," Natasha agrees with a nod. "It just didn't feel right to keep that from you."

You nod slowly. "I appreciate that, Nat," You say, before a thought springs into your mind. "Does Steve know about her feelings?"

"No," She tells you. "And you can't tell him."

"Why not?" You ask her.

"It'll make things weird between them, and it'll only upset her if he draws back or confronts her about it," She explains regretfully. "I consider her a friend, and I don't wanna see her hurt."

"Won't it hurt her to find out that he's with me?" You question her.

"Probably," She admits with a shrug. "But it would hurt her more to be ignored or insulted by him. You know what men are like; they don't know how to handle delicate situations."

You tap the counter, narrowing your eyes. "Do you think it's possible that he ever felt anything for her?"

She lets out a dry laugh. "No," She says bluntly, which brings you relief. "I mean, they kissed at a party once when he was drunk as a skunk, and that's what gave her hope. That's what she held onto for so long, but he was never into her like that. He kissed me that night, too. And Tony."

Humming, you take a few moments to process her words. Honestly, you aren't too worried about a woman with a crush on your man. You aren't blind; he's likely friends with multiple people who have some level of attraction towards him. You'd be a fool to deny that, and an idiot for wasting your time worrying about it.

"I wear his chain," You tell Natasha bluntly. "I'm his girl. Some British broad he hasn't thought about for half a decade isn't gonna scare me away."

With a smirk, she nods. "Atta girl."

"And if she does have any intention of getting between us, or taking Steve for herself," You begin, feeling yourself already getting worked up. "Then I hope to God, for her sake, that she knows how to fight."

side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates

part six >

buy me a kofi <3

#YAAA #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #series #biker!steve

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P4

18+

Steve's started a game without realizing what a competitive opponent you are. Just how far will he let you take it?

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, mature themes, flirting, sexual language, Yelena x Reader, jealous!steve, smut (dry humping, dirty talk, daddy kink, switch!steve x switch!reader), possessive!steve, angst.

Series Masterlist

Steve's monthly barbecue is one of the biggest sources of his pride and happiness. It's an evening for all his friends to kick back, get drunk, and eat some great food. When he invited you, you were late for work and still pissed at him for leaving you high and dry the week before so you didn't pay it any mind - but now, as you smell the smoky aroma of different meats and veggies coming from his back yard, you're tempted to attend.

Looking in your fridge, all you see is some sad, leftover pasta, half a loaf of bread, and the fixings for a good sandwich. But you don't want a good sandwich. You want Sam's famous ribs.

"Fuck it," You utter before swallowing your pride, adorning yourself in the prettiest sun dress you own, grabbing a bottle of unopened wine and walking on over to Steve's place.

Bypassing the front door, you walk through the alleyway to get to his back yard, the gateway of which Wanda and Tony are standing in and sharing a cigarette. "Oh, hey!" Wanda exclaims when she sees you, smiling brightly. "It's Steve's pretty neighbor!"

"That's me," You reply, taking and shaking her outstretched hand. "How've you been, Wanda?"

Suddenly, she gasps, grinning widely as she places her hand on her chest and nudges Tony. "She remembers my name!" She gushes, before clearing her throat and looking back at you. "I've been great."

Switching your gaze to Tony, you soften your smile. "And hello again to you, Steve's pretty friend."

His cheeks tinge pink at your words as his lips part. With a soft laugh, he finds it hard to meet your eyes. "Uh, yeah, that's me."

With a snort, Wanda widens her eyes. "Our Anthony's a shy one. Especially around pretty neighbors."

"Shut it, Wan," He grumbles under his breath, before finally looking at you. "It's good to see you again, Y/N."

"Please, don't let us stop you from joining the party," Wanda says, stepping to the side to give you way. "Head on in; the food's being served- and there's sangria."

Giving them a polite smile and a promise to find them again later, you walk into the garden, taken aback by how many people are here. You immediately spot Steve making burgers by the barbecue with Sam, so you instead make a beeline to the drinks table. Putting down your measly bottle of cheap wine next to the array of hard liquors, you start to pour yourself a vodka orange.

"Well, if it ain't Little Miss Drifter," A familiar voice calls out before the man it's attached to comes to stand beside you, a smirk on his face.

"Hey, Bucky," You greet him with a smile. "How's the optimized bike doing?"

"She's absolutely fantastic," He replies defensively, nonchalantly looking you up and down. "How's your tattoo doing?"

Snorting, you nod. "Yeah, she's good."

"Good," Bucky says before taking a sip of his beer. "So, I've been meaning to ask... you get kicked out of the Drifters, or what?"

"What makes you think that?" You ask him with a frown.

"Well, why else would you leave your family?" He questions you with genuine confusion.

Sighing, you shrug. "Everything changed when Vinnie died. And his dying wish was for me to get the heck out of Detroit, so there's that."

"Right," He says lowly. "Yeah, I don't know how the rest of us would cope if we lost Steve."

"Me, neither," You reply coyly. "He's a very good kisser."

"Yeah?" A surprised look overtakes his face. "He didn't tell me you've been kissing him."

"And now, you know," You say, clinking your glass against his bottle. "You didn't hear it from me, though."

"My Iips are sealed," Bucky promises. "He's over there. Want me to call him over?"

"No, that's alright," You assure him. "I'm sure I'll get a chance to say hi at some point."

"Alright, then," He pats your shoulder. "Catch you later, Drifter."

"See ya, Commando," You reply as he walks away.

Before you can even contemplate whether or not you should be the first to greet Steve, you hear a voice call out from behind you. "You need to tell me from where you got those shoes."

Turning around, you see a blonde girl whose wide eyes are staring down at your feet. She's wearing cargo pants and a low-cut top, and a silver necklace sits perfectly above her chest. Admittedly, she's absolutely gorgeous. With a soft laugh, you shrug. "Honestly, no idea. I've had them for years, now."

She lets out a dejected sigh, before giving you a smile and saying, "Hey. I'm Yelena. I've never seen you before."

"Oh, I'm Y/N. I'm new to the neighborhood," You explain, but your words only make her look more confused.

"And you're also the only one of Steve's neighbors here," She comments. "What gives? Are you fucking him?"

Choking on air, you shake your head. "Absolutely not. We- I'm just his friend."

"Oh. Okay," Yelena says with a nod, before revealing, "I used to fuck him. It was a great time."

Taken aback, all you can do is slowly nod with raised brows. "Right," You let out casually, before adding, "I'll probably fuck him, soon."

"Yeah?" She asks before pursing her lips and nodding. "Yeah, checks out. Can't blame you for that one. He is unreal."

Glancing over at where he's laughing with Bucky and Sam, you shrug. "Meh. He's alright."

"Alright?" She repeats incredulously. "Are you kidding me?"

"He hasn't worked hard enough, yet," You tell her with a sigh. "Also, he pissed me off last time we spoke, so I'm waiting for him to beg me for forgiveness."

"Nice," Yelena comments. "Though I have to warn you; Steve's a proud man. He's also not one to chase."

"Well, he better change that," You say bluntly. "I ain't gonna make it easy for him."

Licking her lips, she steps closer to you. "You really wanna make him sweat?"

Intrigued, you raise a brow. "Go on."

With a smirk, Yelena moves closer still before slipping her finger under the strap of your dress, pretending that it needs readjusting. The sensation of her touch against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. Lowering her voice, she looks up to meet your eyes. "Does he know you're into girls, birdie?" She asks, taking you aback.

"Is it that obvious?" You question her, biting back your smirk.

"You were staring at my tits pretty hard," She tells you smugly. "I also have a very accurate gaydar."

Laughing, you shake your head. "No, he doesn't know yet."

"Want him to find out?" She utters lowly, a dangerous look brewing in her eyes.

Never one to turn down a pretty girl, you bring up your hand to lift up her necklace, giving it a closer look. "This is really pretty," You whisper to her, scanning the blue gem.

"You're really pretty," She retorts, shivering when your fingers brush against her neck.

Meanwhile, over at the barbecue, Sam nudges Steve. "Ain't that your girl over there with 'Lena?"

Frowning, Steve looks over to where Sam's staring, and he's surprised to see that you actually came. Even more surprising, and annoying, is the way you and Yelena are whispering sweet nothings to each other and standing a little too close for comfort.

"Yeah, it is," Steve utters, his grip around his beer tightening.

"I don't know if you can still call her your girl, man," Bucky teases him. "They're looking awful cosy."

Rolling his eyes, Steve shakes his head. "Fifty-three ain't even into girls like that."

"No?" Sam asks, his eyes on you as you giggle at something Yelena says. "You sure about that, bro?"

"Are you hungry?" Yelena asks you, tilting her head. "I'm hungry. Let's get some burgers."

Before you can say anything, she takes your hand and leads you over to the barbecue where the boys are standing. Your eyes meet Steve's and his gaze flickers down to your hand which is linked with Yelena's before his jaw clenches for a second.

"Hi, boys," She greets them warmly. "How are we all doing today?"

They greet her in response, before Sam directs his smile to you. "Hey there, Y/N. Lookin' good."

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. Not this fucker, too.

"You too, Sam," You reply, before turning your attention to the blondie with the sour face. "How's it going, Rogers?"

He visibly relaxes a little when you drop Yelena's hand to move closer to him, looking you up and down. The dress you're wearing is killing him, and he can't stop himself from imagining all the ways he'd fuck you in it. He could just drag you inside, bend you over his couch and take you right then and there, and he already knows the noises you'd let out would be fucking glorious. Or, he could just fuck you against the fence out here, and let everyone know you're his. Including Yelena.

"Rog?" You call out a little louder when you realize he's zoned out while staring at your hips.

Snapping out of it, he looks back at your face. "Hey, fif. Didn't think you'd make it," He says truthfully.

"Wouldn't miss it," You tell him with a grin. "Your friends are so nice. Especially Yelena."

"Glad you think so," He says through gritted teeth before taking a long sip of beer.

"She's hot, too," You comment coyly, smirking up at him. "Where you been hiding her?"

He raises a brow, feeling his heart race. "What; you into girls, fiffy?"

Biting your lip, you wink at him. "Yeah, Rog. I am."

Swallowing thickly, Steve nods, trying his best to seem unbothered. "Cool. Great. That's great."

Suddenly, Yelena returns from where she was talking with Sam to wrap her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Hello, Steven Rogers," She says brightly.

"Hi, Yellow," He replies stoically. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, absolutely," She answers him smugly. "Your neighbor, here, is just the most adorable little thing, isn't she?"

It's a difficult position for him to be in. On one hand, the thought of you getting with Yelena is making his pants tighten, but on the other hand, Steve feels an intense need to possess you wholly; own you and have you to himself.

"Don't you agree, Steven Rogers?" Yelena questions him teasingly, resting her hands on your waist while you laugh softly. "Isn't she just gorgeous?"

Keeping his eyes on yours, he takes a swig of beer before shrugging. "Meh. She's alright."

Laughing heartily, Yelena glances down at you. "You know, birdie said the exact same thing about you."

"Is that right?" Steve mutters, his fingers twitching as Yelena strokes your waist.

"Hey, Steven Rogers," She begins. "That spare room upstairs is empty, right?"

Your eyes widen at her words as a laugh leaves your mouth.

"You wanna take fif upstairs?" He questions her with a raised brow. Good fuckin' luck with that, Yelena.

"I just need to show her something," She tells him coyly.

Letting out a sigh, Steve stares her down. "You're not taking her upstairs."

"Why not?" She asks with a tone of offence.

"Yeah, Rog, why not?" You ask him with a playful pout.

He raises a brow, stepping forward. "You wanna go with her, fif?"

Biting your lip, you nod. "Yeah. I do."

Leaning down closer to you, he lowers his voice. "And what are you gonna do up there, hmm?"

With a small smile, you rest your hands on top of Yelena's. "We'll do what girls do," You tell him slyly, turning your head to look at Yelena. She brings her face closer to yours and the tips of your noses brush against each other, making your breath hitch in your throat.

Ignoring his pulsing boner, Steve raises a brow. "I see."

"Let me take her," Yelena begs, looking over at him. "Didn't you learn to share your toys, Steven Rogers?"

Finishing off his beer, Steve crushes the can in his hand. "Go ahead, Yellow. Go, play with my toy," He utters, his words making your heart skip a beat.

Your eyes remain glued to his while Yelena drags you inside, and you only wish you could know what he was thinking.

Once you're both upstairs, Yelena collapses on the bed, grinning at the ceiling. "Did you see his face? He's pissed."

"You think?" You wonder, lying down next to her. "Good."

She turns on her side to face you, frowning. "What exactly did he do to piss you off?"

You turn to face her, too, resting your head on your arm. "He was being a tease."

"Oh, I see," Yelena whispers, bringing her finger up to your elbow and tracing soft lines on your skin. "You don't like to be teased?"

Your lip curls up in a smirk as you shake your head. "I hate it."

"But it's the best part," She argues lowly as her legs tangle with yours. "It's so much fun to watch someone completely break down at your touch. To be so desperate for something only you can give them. To beg for you."

Letting out a soft laugh, you rest your hand on her hip. "I can see why you and Steve used to fuck."

She laughs along melodically, playing with your hair gently. "As dominant and in control as he may seem, Steve loves being on the other side just as much," She reveals, taking you by surprise. "You're really pretty, by the way. You could do much better than him."

You snort at that. "You think so?"

"Absolutely," She mumbles, glancing down at your lips.

"Who- so, who's better than Steve that you'd recommend?" You question her teasingly, pulling on the belt loop of her pants.

Saying nothing, Yelena simply leans in closer, mischief dancing across her eyes. Just as she parts her lips, to either speak or something else, the door to the room is opened and hits the wall.

The two of you remain calm as you glance up at Steve, who stands in the doorway with a glare. "You can leave now, Yellow," He tells her sternly.

Lifting up her head, she pouts. "But-"

"Now," Steve repeats gravely, no hint of lightness in his words.

With a sigh, Yelena pushes you onto your back, pulling her legs from between yours and leans over you to give your cheek a kiss. "I'll see you around, birdie," She promises before getting up and leaving the room, nudging Steve's shoulder on the way.

You remain where you are, staring up at the ceiling as you try to relax your racing heartbeat. You hear the door shut and the lock turn before feeling another weight on the bed, and then Steve enters your peripheral vision. Saying nothing, you simply lay there as he crawls upwards, pushing your legs apart and kneeling between them.

"We were just having fun," You say, gasping when he grabs your wrists and pins your arms above your head.

The look on his face is stern as he hovers above you. "You think your cute little game will work with me?" He asks you, his voice low and gruff.

A smirk pulls at your lips. "It got you up here, didn't it?"

His jaw clenches and he rests his waist against you, making you shiver when his boner grinds against your crotch. "You should know better than to play games with me, fif," He warns you with a growl. "You don't wanna piss me off."

"Don't I?" You retort coyly, tilting your head. "But it's so much fun."

He lets go of your left wrist and grabs you by the throat, bringing his face closer to yours. "It won't be fun for you for much longer, you stupid little girl," Steve tells you coldly. "But, I guess it's partly my fault, ain't it? I haven't made it clear enough to you yet that you belong to me."

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words as you do your best to stay calm. "I belong to you?" You ask him with a raised brow. "It doesn't feel like it."

"No?" He questions you lowly as he slowly grinds his hips against yours. "Haven't made it obvious?"

You feel your stomach flutter at his movements and swallow thickly. "N- no, Rogers, you haven't."

"Well, I should change that, shouldn't I?" He asks you teasingly. "Make sure you know that you can't be messing around with other people, baby. You're not a slut for anyone but me, do you understand?"

Boring your eyes into his, you do your best to nod. "Yes, daddy."

He moves closer until his lips are brushing against yours. "Not gonna let Yelena touch you like that again, are you?"

A tinge of excitement hits you at his words, as you see the look on his eyes. Instead of agreeing with him, you grab his shoulders and push him down onto the bed before straddling him. His eyes widen a fraction as he places his hands on your hips, making no effort to push you off, even though you both know he easily could.

"Listen here, Rogers," You say lowly, keeping his shoulders pinned down. "You don't get to tell me what to do. I know you like to act like you do, but I think it's time we clear a few things up."

He raises a brow, slightly taken aback by your demeanor, but not entirely surprised.

"It's you under my thumb, Rogers," You tell him curtly. "As much as you put on the big, scary front, we both know that's all it is. A front. But you're mine, aren't you? Do anything I'd fucking ask you to, wouldn't you?"

Saying nothing, he simply stares up at you, enamored.

"Answer me, Rogers," You demand, rolling your hips slightly as your groin rubs against his boner. "Whatever I want. Whatever I ask. You'd bend over backwards to keep me happy, wouldn't you?"

Letting out a shaky breath, he nods. "Yes, baby, anything," He whispers, bringing his hand up to cup your face while the other strokes your waist. "Anything you fuckin' want, God, I'll give you everything."

"Even if I ask for too much?" You ask him coyly, smirking down at him as you continue moving your hips.

"Nothing's too much," Steve promises, bucking his hips up with a soft groan. "Fuck. For you. I'll give you the fuckin' world."

You bring his hand up to your chest, letting out a moan as he rubs your hardened nipple through your thin dress. "And if- if I want Yelena to touch me-"

Suddenly, his entire face changes. His hand moves up to wrap around your throat as he pulls you down, a dark look in his eyes. "Don't you dare finish that fuckin' sentence," He orders you firmly. "You belong to me."

Gasping for breath, you feel your eyes water. "Make me believe it," You reply with a whisper.

Steve kisses you deeply, groaning into your mouth as he takes hold of your hips. "Keep bouncing, baby," He utters. "Show daddy how you wanna ride his cock."

With soft whimpers and delicate moans, you do as he says, delighted as his boner rubs against your pussy. "Daddy," You breathe out, throwing your head back.

"Eyes on me, baby," He presses, grinding his hips upwards to aid you. "Wanna see my little girl's pretty face."

Looking back down, you fall forward, moaning louder as he thrusts faster against you. Your head falls to rest in his neck as he grabs your ass, grunting into your ear.

"Oh, shit," He murmurs, pushing you onto your side and lifting up your leg to get a better angle. Your dress rides up as he looks down at your wet panties, rubbing his crotch against you. "Fuck, baby, that feel good?"

"So good, daddy," You whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he dry humps you faster. "Please, let me cum."

He chuckles softy, pushing you onto your back and getting on top of you. "Baby wants to cum, hmm?"

"Please," You cry out desperately. "I need to, daddy."

"Aw, my dumb girl," He coos teasingly. "Wanna show daddy your pretty little cum face?"

"Yes," You moan as your eyes roll back. "So close, daddy, so close."

He thrusts against you harder, making the bed creak beneath you. "That's it, baby," Steve encourages you, smirking. "Cum for me."

It sends you over the edge as your lips part in a silent scream, your head pushing back against the pillow. Your toes curl and your nails dig into his shoulders, the prettiest of sounds leaving your mouth that sounds vaguely like his name.

"Oh, that's it," Steve moans as he feels his own end approaching, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "That's my girl. Fuck. So fuckin' pretty when you cum, baby."

You moan weakly as you float through your high, pressing chaste kisses to his lips and jaw. He grips your waist in his hands before grinding his hips harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. With a few more thrusts and a loud grunt, Steve cums, falling onto you with a groan.

"Oh, baby, that's my girl," He whines weakly, feeling his pants soak with his cum. Slowly, he lifts up his head, staring down at you. "My girl."

You look up at him expectantly. Without a word, Steve brings a hand to the back of his neck where he undoes the gold chain resting there. Once it's off, he brings it to your neck, gently lifting up your head so he can close the clasp. When it's on you, he moves back as though to marvel at his own masterpiece, the sight of you in his chain giving him a head rush.

He cups your chin in his hand, leaning down. "My girl," He repeats once more, his blue eyes hooked to yours. "Got it?"

Blinking up at him, you allow your mouth to curl up in a slight smile. "Got it."

He smirks at that, moving forward to kiss you gently. "Good," He mumbles against your mouth, before getting off you and sighing. "I gotta go change."

You snort, sitting up. "Gross," You tease, fixing your hair.

Rolling his eyes, he gets off the bed and walks over to where you're sitting, grabbing your chin. "Well, next time, I'll be sure to cum on your pretty face, instead," He promises. "See how gross you find it then."

"Idiot," You mutter with a soft laugh, swatting his hand away.

While he goes to his bedroom to wash up and change, you return to the back yard, hoping it isn't obvious to anyone else what just happened. Wanda is the first to notice you, her eyes lighting up as she sees you walk out.

"Hey, Steve's pretty neighbor!" She greets you before glancing down at the chain around your neck, making her eyes widen. "Well... I guess you're Steve's pretty girl now, hmm?"

Biting your lip, you feel your cheeks heat up. You didn't think the chain was that obvious a statement, but perhaps that was naive of you.

"Congratulations," Wanda goes on to say warmly, taking your hands in hers. "And welcome to the family."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the garden stand Sam and Bucky, who have also noticed your return.

"Buck," Sam mutters, nudging his arm. "She's wearing his chain."

Looking over at you, Bucky nods. "She is."

Sam turns his head to him. "Mhm."

Grimacing, Bucky looks away. "Shit."

"When's the right time to tell him?" Sam asks, watching as you laugh with Wanda.

"That we don't trust the girl who's wearing his damn chain?" Bucky questions him with a scoff. "It's a little late for that, Wilson."

"The only time it'll be too late is when Steve is thrown into prison, or worse, because of her," Sam states gravely. "Before that happens, it's our duty to make him see straight. You know what he's like; put a pretty woman in front of him and he stops thinking."

With a pained look, Bucky shakes his head. "What do we do?"

Sighing, he shrugs. "I don't know."

"Sam," Bucky emphasizes impatiently.

With gritted teeth, Sam looks over to him, glaring. "All I know is that that woman is not who she says she is. She ain't a Drifter. She ain't Old Vinnie's niece. That fuckin' tattoo probably washes right off."

Rubbing his face, Bucky huffs. "We're gonna need some help with this."

"Who'd ya have in mind?" Sam asks curiously, raising a brow.

With a wince, Bucky rests his hands on his hips. "We gotta call Peggy, man."

part five >

oh, shit.

side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates

buy me a kofi <3

#???!!!! #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #biker!steve #series #smut

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P3

18+

A second date with Steve comes quicker than you expected it to, and it doesn't end at all how you predict.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, mature themes, angst, mention of a dead parent, fluff, sexual tension, smut (kissing, dry humping, daddy kink, dom!steve).

Series Masterlist

Rogers

Lonely n thinking of a pretty girl.

You

Feel bad for the girl.

Rogers

What are you thinking of right now?

You

Right now?

This schedule on my desk.

Rogers

Forget about that, fif

Come see me during your lunch break

Got something to show ya

"Y/N, you done with that PR schedule?" John asks, pulling your attention from your phone. He rolls his eyes when he sees what you're doing, leaning against the doorframe. "I don't wanna have to reprimand you for being on your phone during work hours."

"So, don't," You say, putting your phone down. "I'm almost done; I'll drop it off to Lemar once it's ready for you to sign off on."

He slowly nods before making his way into your office, closing the door behind him. "Got any lunch plans?"

You glance down at your phone which is still displaying your text conversation, before looking back up at John. "Yeah, actually," You tell him while typing your reply to Steve.

You

No, thanks.

"For real?" John asks you. "Was hoping I could take you out to Guigino's."

"Really?" You question, raising a brow. "What for?"

He shrugs, walking over to sit opposite you. "Thought it'd be nice. You know, Y/N and John, eating Italian and shooting the shit. Having a good time."

Your phone buzzes with a text, and you open it while replying to John. "Sorry to disappoint," You say absentmindedly. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Rogers

You're breaking my heart, baby

I wanna see you.

"Ah, it's alright," John assures you before leaning forward. "How about dinner tonight, instead?"

Putting down your phone, you sigh. "John, we've been through this before. Many, many times."

"What?" He asks between laughs.

"Stop asking me out," You say sternly. "It's just embarrassing for us both when I have to turn you down."

"I'm not asking you out!" He claims, holding his hands up in surrender. "Is it a crime for two people who work together to go for dinner? And what's the difference between lunch and dinner?"

"The difference is that you ask me to come over to your place after dinner so you can fuck me and then fire me, just like you did to Lois," You tell him, clenching your hands into fists. "All I'm asking for is that you show me respect. I am not just something pretty for you to look at. Something for you to lust after. Something for you to win. I am your equal. I work for you, sure, but do not ever think that that means I'm subordinate to you. Do you understand me, John?"

Taken aback, he lets out a quick breath and nods. "Understood," He utters, and you can tell that it's almost painful for him to say it. With that, he stands up and makes his way to the door. "I'll, uh, be waiting on that schedule."

"It'll be ready before lunch," You mutter, looking back down at it.

He goes to leave, but it's as though something pulls him back. Resting his fist on the doorframe, he looks back at you. "For what it's worth, I didn't fire Lois because of our personal relationship. She was my campaign manager; I no longer had any need for her."

Holding back your eye roll, you purse your lips. "However you wanna see it, John."

Once he's gone, you pick up your phone and reply to Steve.

You

Be ready in 30

I'm taking you out for sushi

"This stuff," Steve begins, waving a thin slice of pickled ginger between his chop sticks. "Is like fucking crack."

You laugh heartily at him, swallowing your bite before replying. "Have you ever done actual crack?"

That makes him smirk as he leans forward. "Why? You think just 'cuz I'm a biker, I smoke crack?"

"I mean, Uncle Vinnie did every drug under the fuckin' sun," You tell him, grinning. "So, yeah."

Steve shakes his head, smiling nonetheless. "Have you ever smoked crack?"

"Never," You say truthfully. "But, I have, uh..." Trailing off, you tap your nose a few times, hoping he'll get the hint.

"Really?" He asks with bright eyes.

"Vin never let me make a habit of it, though," You tell him between laughs. "Only on special occasions."

Sighing, Steve looks down at the sushi platter. "Man, Old Vinnie must've been the coolest uncle."

"He was!" You confirm, your heart warming before you frown. "Did you ever meet him?"

He takes a sip of sake before meeting your eyes. "Nah, not properly. I've been in the same room as him, though," He tells you proudly. "Must've been over a decade ago. I was probably around fifteen. My dad took me to a meeting in some bar in Detroit; something to do with the distribution of, uh..." He trails off before tapping his nose and shooting you a wink. "The good stuff."

"Ah," You say, nodding.

"Vinnie was striking up a deal with my dad," Steve goes on to say. "I remember being awe-struck by him. At the end of it, a woman started singing. My dad and the others left, but I stuck behind to listen. She was beautiful; couldn't take my eyes off her. Vinnie goes up to her and requests a song, and it's my favorite. I remember feeling like the stars had aligned, or some sappy shit like that. You ever feel like that? Like it's too perfect to just be a coincidence?"

With your heart thudding, you swallow thickly. "What the was song?"

Steve smiles at you. "Cowboy, Take Me Away."

You bite your lip, blinking hard. "That- uh, that was my mom. She sang at Vinnie's bar."

His face drops as he's taken aback. "Really?"

Nodding, you clench your hand into a fist as you desperately try not to cry. "She always wanted to be a singer, but life got in the way. When they found the tumor in her brain... they told us she didn't have long. So, Vinnie built a stage in his bar and for that last year of her life, Mom was a singer."

Utterly shocked into silence, Steve reaches out to place his hand on yours, gently stroking it.

"Nobody else ever sang in that bar, before or after her," You inform him with a small smile. "You're lucky you got to watch her perform. Not many people have the privilege to say that."

"I am lucky," He agrees, his pretty eyes growing glossy. "I'm so sorry, fif."

"It's okay," You whisper, shaking your head and sitting up. "Come, sit next to me?"

Happily, he gets up to sit on your side of the booth, immediately wrapping his arm around you. You rest your head on his chest, allowing his rhythmic heartbeat to soothe you.

"Do you remember anything else about her?" You ask him softly.

He smiles and kisses the top of your head. "She was wearing a blue dress. It went all the way to the floor, and had little embroidered sunflowers all over it."

Gasping, you grab onto his hand. "I remember that dress."

"Yeah, that dress," He reminisces warmly. "Her eyes were pretty, and I remember her pink lipstick. I figured she must've been famous, or somethin', the way she looked so confident on that stage."

"I can't believe you had a crush on my mom," You tease him lowly, lightly poking his stomach.

"I did not have a crush on her," He adamantly defends himself. "I was just casually admiring her talent, that's all. And I fuckin' loved that song."

Laughing, you play with the zip of his jacket. "I might've even been in the bar that day. Isn't that so weird to think about?"

"That is weird," He agrees with a mumble. "To think, we could've met over ten years ago."

"We could've walked past each other. Maybe we did," You wonder. "Or maybe you sat in my regular seat without even knowing it. Maybe we drank from the same glass."

"The stars aligned," Steve utters, stroking your hair.

"Perfect coincidence," You add lowly. After a few blissful moments of silence pass, you look up at him. "Do you believe in that stuff? Fate, destiny?"

He thinks on it for a little while, sitting back while taking a long sip from his cup. "Honestly, I don't know. But I like to think that whatever's meant to be, will be."

"Really?" You ask, turning your body to him. "That's a sweet way of looking at it."

Smirking, he shrugs. "What can I say, baby? I'm a sweetheart."

"Idiot," You huff, laughing softly before looking over at the table. "Are you gonna eat some more?"

Letting out a breath, Steve pats his stomach. "I'm full as fuck, baby, go ahead."

"I'm full, too," You say, before smiling at a waiter to get him to come over. Thankfully, it works. "Could we get the bill, please?"

"Of course, ma'am," The waiter replies politely before rushing away again.

When you see Steve reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet, you grip his forearm tightly. "Don't," You order him sternly. "Lunch is on me."

Immediately, he snorts. "That's nice of you, baby, but honestly, don't worry about it-"

"Rogers, don't you dare take out your wallet," You warn him through gritted teeth. "I told you I was taking you out for lunch."

"Absolutely not," He argues, sitting up. "I told you that you wouldn't have to worry-"

"I'm not worrying; I'm treating you to lunch, like I said I would," You cut him off firmly, tightening your grip on his arm. "Besides, it's not like this was a date. It was just a nice meal."

He raises a brow at that. "You can't just call this not a date, fif," He states. "You can't just make up whatever rules you want."

"I'm not making up anything," You say with a frown. "The next time you take me on a date, you have my full permission to pay. This is on me."

"Fif-"

"Please, do not test me today, Rogers," You say coldly, glaring at him.

Realizing that you're being deadly serious, he pulls back. "Alright, fifty-three. Whatever you want," He gives in, even though it almost kills him as he watches you scan your credit card.

"See how easy that was?" You ask, before softening when you see the tense look on his face. Sighing, you cup his cheek gently, giving him a smile. "Thank you, Steve. I appreciate that that was difficult for you. Thank you for respecting my wishes, and me."

"Always," He replies. "Just don't ever make me do that again, you little shit."

Laughing, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. "You'll get used to it, sweetheart."

Hoping you don't notice the way his face heats up at the nickname, he clears his throat. "You gotta go back to work soon?" He asks you. "Or have you got some time to come over to my place?"

Usually, you'd be disgusted at the invitation back to his house - but you know that Steve knows better by now than to have vulgar intentions behind his words.

"Nah, I'm not going back yet," You tell him, even though your lunch break ended ten minutes ago. "Fuck him. He pissed me off today so he can deal with me bunking off for a little while."

Frowning, Steve takes your hand in his. "What did he do?"

Shaking your head, you pat his knee. "Doesn't matter."

"Did he upset you?" He questions, already irritated.

"Oh, please; Walker wishes he mattered enough to me to upset me," You say with a scoff. "No, he was just... being unprofessional."

Your vague wording doesn't help pacify Steve at all, whose mind is currently racing with bad thoughts. Clenching his jaw, he lowers his voice. "Did he touch you?"

"God, Steve!"

"Did he?" He asks you gravely.

"You think he'd still be alive?" You ask him incredulously. "After touching a fuckin' Drifter?"

He lets out a breath, slight relief filling him.

"You don't have to worry about your girl, Steve," You assure him. "I can take care of myself just fine."

Slowly, a smirk pulls at his lips. "My girl, huh?"

You roll your eyes and let go of his hand. "Slip of the tongue," You mutter, turning away from him.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, bringing his lips to your ear. "How about you slip your tongue... in my mouth?"

Snorting, you push his shoulder. "Too much sake for you, big boy; getting ahead of yourself, there."

"I'm sober, actually, and I'm not ahead of nothin'," Steve claims boldly, placing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. "Just wanna kiss."

"Well, tough luck, honey," You say, meeting his eyes. "I don't kiss on the second date."

Confusion swims in his eyes before they suddenly widen. "So, this was a date! I knew it! You lied to me."

"It only just became one," You declare. "It wasn't a date before."

"What the fuck changed?" He asks with a frown. "And why do you kiss on the first date and not the second? Sweet Jesus, you're gonna kill me."

Patting his shoulder, you grin. "Come on, cowboy. Take me away. Let's get out of here."

"Don't," He warns, pointing at you. "You know what that song does to me, fif."

"Can we just- come on, Steve, take me back to yours, already," You implore, standing up.

"So she don't kiss on the first date, but she'll happily come home with me," He mutters to himself as he, too, stands up.

"Shut the fuck up, Rog, you know damn well ain't nothing happening at your place," You tell him with narrow eyes while he places a hand on your lower back and leads you out of the restaurant. "I'm just intrigued to see what it is you've got for me."

He chuckles at that, taking you over to his bike. "Come on, fiffy," He says softly. "Let's get the fuck home."

You haven't been in Steve's home since the night he beat Ben up for you, and it looks very different during the day. It's a lot cleaner when there isn't a party being thrown, and you're pleasantly surprised.

"Nice place," You comment with a mutter, looking around the hallway while he shuts the front door.

"Thanks, fif," He replies, patting your lower back before taking your hand in his. "Come upstairs; that's where your surprise is."

Raising a brow, you plant your feet firmly on the ground. "You're walking on thin ice, Rog," You warn him.

Immediately, he laughs. "I'm not taking you to my bedroom, fifty-three, I swear," He promises, holding his free hand up and bringing your hand to his chest. "Biker's honor, babe."

With an eye-roll, you shrug. "Fine. But if you take off a single piece of clothing-"

"I am staying fully clothed-"

"And if you call me babe again," You finish coldly. "It won't be pretty, Rogers."

"Alright, alright," He says, pulling you to the stairs. "So dramatic."

"Heard that," You grumble, trudging up the stairs behind him.

Once you're upstairs, he takes you through the first door on the left. It's filled with memorabilia, most of it belonging to his gang. Worn and torn jackets with the Howling Commandos logo sewn on the back, old guns and daggers hung up on the walls, an out-of-use bike leaning against the wall, and a plethora of other tokens and trophies.

"Nice," You whisper, looking around with wide eyes. "This is incredible. How old is some of this shit?"

Picking up a gun from the wall, he smirks. "1902."

"Really?" You ask, gently taking it from him with awe. "Holy fuck." Walking further into the room, you spot a table on which there are photographs, old and new. There are a few of Steve with his friends, some you recognize and some you don't. When you see a photo of him looking cozy with a pretty brunette, you raise a brow. "Who's she?"

He comes over and glances down at it. "That's Peggy," He tells you . "My ex-wife."

Your face drops as you turn to him. "Seriously?"

Immediately, Steve snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm kidding. She's an old friend; lived here for a little while before moving back to England."

"Just a friend?" You press curiously.

"Just a friend," He confirms, smirking at you. "Nothin' ever happened between us."

"Nothing?" You repeat, in slight disbelief when you see how close they're standing in the photograph.

"Absolutely nothing," Steve says plainly, before resting his hands on his hips as a thoughtful look overtakes his face. "Well, there might've been a kiss one night..."

"She came all this way, befriended you, and only ever shared a single kiss with you?" You ask him incredulously.

"Why?" He questions with a wink. "You're in disbelief, huh? Can't fathom how a woman could possibly resist me?"

Rolling your eyes, you nod. "Somethin' like that."

"Well, all you've given me is a kiss," He says pointedly.

"Well, I'm not planning on moving to England anytime soon," You shoot back.

"Good," He utters lowly, moving closer to you and placing a hand on your waist. "'Cuz I'd miss you an awful lot, fif."

Tracing the tattoos on his forearm, you look up at him. "As much as you miss Peggy?"

His lips pull up and he leans down towards you, whispering, "So much more, baby."

Dangerously close to doing something stupid like falling for his bullshit, you pull back and clear your throat. "What was it you brought me up here for, anyway, besides ancient guns and British broads?"

His eyes light up with recollection. Letting go of your waist, he walks over to a shelf. "That night by the lake, when you told me who your uncle was, it got me thinking," He begins, shuffling around in a box. "I remembered that time I saw him at his bar - when I watched your ma sing - and I saw he was carving something outta wood."

A soft smile grows on your lips. "Yeah, Vin whittled a lot."

"I just thought it looked cool, so when I stayed behind to listen to your mom..." A tinge of nervousness dances in his voice as he turns to you sheepishly. "I stole his dagger."

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen. "You did what?"

His cheeks redden as he shows it to you, and there it is. Vinnie's old dagger in all its glory, with his initials carved on the handle and all. You quickly rush over and take it from him, bewildered by the rush of nostalgia that hits you like a wave.

"Holy shit," You whisper, before looking up at him with narrow eyes. "I oughta break your hands for stealing from him."

He chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured it would mean a lot more to you."

Smiling, you pat his shoulder. "Thank you, Rogers. I really appreciate this. I didn't bring much of Detroit with me here, so it feels good to have something... something of his."

Pulling you closer, Steve places a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

"Fuck's sake, Rog," You grumble against his chest.

"What's wrong, fif?" He asks with slight concern.

Sighing, you lift your head up to look at him. "You're making it really hard for me to stop myself from kissing you."

A smile breaks out on his lips. "So, don't stop yourself."

"I... I can't," You whisper, wincing.

"Why not?" He asks with a mumble.

"'Cuz... then we've kissed twice," You explain. "And that's a whole lot more than just once."

A spark blooms in his eyes, and for a second you're filled with dread as you expect him to say something utterly horrific that'll turn you off again. "There's nothing wrong with more, fif," He tells you gently, resting his hands on your waist. "Whenever you're ready, you can give me as much as you want, and all I can do is promise I'll never do anything to make you regret it."

Fuck. He makes playing hard-to-get impossible.

"You're beautiful," He adds like an afterthought as one of his hands come up to cup your face.

Blinking, you let out a breathy laugh. "You mean that, or do you just want a kiss?"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," Steve mutters, staring at your mouth. "I mean it. And I really wanna kiss you."

With no strength left to reject him, you close your eyes. "Fuck it." With that, you lean up and kiss him, and you're so glad that you do. It's somehow more electric than the first kiss you shared under the moonlight.

His hand lowers to your throat, on which he keeps a firm but gentle grip. Your hands move up to run through his soft hair, pulling and playing with his locks. Your tongues collide and dance with familiarity and raw connection, every inch of your skin lighting up with excitement.

After a few moments, you pull back, your eyes flickering up to his. You take in a few deep breaths, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hand. His eyes search yours for a hint of regret or fear, but they find none.

"I should... probably get back to work," You manage to say lowly once you've caught your breath.

"Do you have to?" Steve asks you in a hushed tone.

Suppressing a laugh, you nod. "Walker will kill me if I don't."

"Not if I get to him first," He retorts gruffly.

Rolling your eyes at his machismo, you hold the dagger up to his chest, making sure not to press it too hard. "Why don't you just relax and keep on looking pretty, huh?"

Light irritation flashes across his eyes before he slowly wraps his hand around your neck. In retaliation, you move the dagger up to his neck, narrowing your glare.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Rogers?" You ask him gravely.

Smirking, he takes a step forward, forcing your back to hit the wall. Steve then leans closer, unbothered by the blade against his throat. "Little girls like you shouldn't try to act so big and mean," He mumbles, gradually tightening his grip. "Though I have to say, it's so much fun watching you try."

Rendered speechless, you stare up at him, your mind going blank.

"Mmm, all quiet and shy for me now?" He teases you lowly, pressing his body against yours. You can feel his dick hardening against your stomach, making your thighs squeeze together. "Wanna be a good girl for daddy?"

All you can muster is a whimper in response. Damn it, woman. Get your shit together.

"Aw, baby," Steve coos, his eyes lighting up. "You can speak. You have my permission."

You can't decide if you want to punch him or kiss him - but when he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your neck, all you can think of is letting him do and say whatever the fuck he wants to you.

"You don't have to be scared, baby," He whispers against your ear while stroking your jaw with a feather-light touch. "Daddy's got you. You can say whatever you want."

You part your lips and let out a soft moan when he grinds his boner into your crotch, making you gasp.

"That's it, baby, talk to me," He coaxes you softly, kissing your neck. "Tell daddy what you want."

Taking in a deep breath, you drop the dagger and cling onto his shirt. "Daddy."

Steve bites his lip as the name finally escapes your mouth, pushing his dick harder against you. "That's it, baby. Keep going."

"Kiss me," You implore weakly, desperate for him.

Chuckling, he pulls away from your neck before resting his forehead against yours. "You want a kiss, little baby?"

"Please," You cry, bucking your hips up and gasping when you feel his cock push back.

"Such a sweet girl," He mumbles before finally leaning in and kissing you. It's soft and sweet, but also wet and sinful. You feel taken over by your arousal, in a cloud of pleasure as he sucks on your tongue and squeezes your ass in his big hand.

Steve continues grinding against you, even going so far as to lift up your legs so he can spread them apart and slot himself between them. His groans pour into your mouth as your back hits the wall, the pain overshadowed by your pleasure.

"Fuck," He growls between sloppy kisses while your pussy throbs incessantly. "That feel good?"

"So good," You whine, digging your nails into his shoulders.

"Tell me who's making you feel good, baby," Steve orders you. "Say it."

"Daddy," You cry. "Daddy's making me feel so good."

"That's fuckin' right," He grunts, slowing down. "Good girl."

With that, he crashes his lips back onto yours, gradually ceasing his movements against your hips which makes you mewl feebly. He puts your legs back on the ground, placing his hands on your waist before pulling away from the kiss.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he gives you a sordid smile. "You should get back to work, fif."

Your face drops. Along with your stomach. And your mood.

"Huh?" You ask incredulously. Is he being serious right now?

All he does is smile innocently, letting go of your body and taking a step back.

"Oh," You scoff, baffled. "You really wanna be a tease right now?"

"I'm not being a tease," He claims though the smirk on his lips says otherwise. "I'm just conscious of your job."

How fucking dare he?

"Oh, Rogers," You say once you've regained some composure, bending down to pick up the dagger before pointing it at him. "You have no idea what you've done. What you've started."

He raises a brow in intrigue, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Is that right, fifty-three?"

"You're gonna regret doing that," You warn him, slowly walking back over to the door. "Very much." With that, you exit the room, leaving him alone to reel.

"Fuck me," He whispers, looking down at his boner. "Sorry, big guy. Looks like she's only gonna make this even harder." Glancing back up at where you once stood, he can't help but break out into a wide smile. "But damn, if we don't love the chase."

hehe. sorry if steve's small aside to his penis gave you p*m and t*mmy flashbacks

part four >>

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#AAAAAA #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #biker!steve #series

[murvelle]

Biker Blood 🏍 P2

18+

Steve isn't one to let what he wants slip though his fingers - especially not when you're dressed like that. Whoever said kidnapping couldn't lead to a romantic first date?

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, mature themes, Biker!Bucky being a mansplaining idiot, semi-consensual kidnapping, pining, flirting, sexual themes, kissing, dom!steve, fluff.

<< Part One

"And so it's pretty much entirely customized at this point," Bucky tells you with a smug grin. "Or, as I like to say, optimized."

You scan his bike, semi-impressed with his work. "Yeah, looks pretty good to me."

"Pretty good?" He repeats with a scoff, offended. "Honey, you don't know much about bikes, so I understand this may be hard for you to grasp, but my bike is more than just pretty good."

Standing behind you is Steve who watches the interaction with a silent smirk, enjoying the view of Bucky making a total ass of himself.

"My uncle had a bike," You mention lightly, smiling at the memory. "He customized his, too."

"Oh, your uncle?" Bucky repeats with a raised brow. "Nah; the bike he rode wouldn't have been like mine, sweetheart."

"No?" You ask, thoroughly enjoying his mansplaining, knowing you could build a bike from scratch.

"Civilians and their boring bikes, am I right?" He says rhetorically with arrogance dripping from his tone. "No disrespect to your uncle; I'm sure he's great, but my baby is levels above just any average bike."

"Mhm, I bet," You utter lowly, before catching a glimpse of his sleeve. "Nice tatts."

He grins before pulling off his leather jacket, exposing his arms to you which are covered in ink. You can barely make out what most of them are, but admittedly they do look cool.

"Do you have any?" He begins to ask before snorting. "Nah, I bet you don't. Wouldn't wanna go through the pain, would you, sweetheart?"

Instead of saying anything, as much as you wanna call him a dick and sock him in the jaw for being so patronizing, you pull off your t-shirt and turn to the side. At first, his eyes are glued to your bra, but once he rips his gaze from your tits, he frowns and moves closer to get a proper look. There, on your left ribcage, is a tattoo about the size of your fist.

Once Bucky recognizes the Drifter logo, he lets out a shocked scoff, he looks back up at your face. "Huh?"

Steve raises a brow and steps forward, his pants tightening at the sight of you topless. When you notice his presence, you give him a polite smile before turning to give him a proper view of the tattoo.

"My Uncle Vinnie designed it," You tell them proudly. "He added in the flowers 'cuz they were my mom's favorite."

Bucky's eyes widen. "Unc- Vinnie?"

"Mhm," You chirp before remembering what you left your house for. "Oh, Rogers! Just the guy i needed."

He watches as you put your shirt back on, biting back a smile. "What's up, fifty-three?"

"You any good with a hammer?" You ask him with a frown. "I need to put some screws in the wall for a hanging shelf, but I just got my nails done and I don't wanna ruin them."

"Sure thing, fif," Steve agrees with a nod, trying to hide his excitement. "I'll be right over; just give me a minute to wash up." With that, he jogs back into his house, leaving you alone with Bucky again.

He looks a lot less confident than he did before, with his cheeks tinged pink as he finds it difficult to maintain eye contact with you. "I, uh, I could come over and help you with your shelf, if you want."

You shake your head, "Nah, that's okay. I'd much rather have Steve do it."

Bucky purses his lips at your curt words, letting out a high-pitched huff. "Oh. Yeah. Sure. Makes sense."

Smiling, you nudge his shoulder. "You're busy optimizing your bike anyway, right?"

He nods quickly, attempting to look unaffected. "Yeah. Yeah, absolutely."

"Come on, Drifter, leave the poor guy alone," Steve says, reappearing from his house and walking over to pat your shoulder. "Shall we head on in?"

"Yes, please," You say, shooting Bucky one last smile. "See you later, sweetheart."

He mumbles a half-hearted greeting in response while you drag Steve over to your place, the sound of his melodic chuckles setting you alight with delight.

Ten minutes later, you're sitting on the hardwood floor in your corridor while Steve is hammering in a few nails to the wall. His tense arms are almost making you drool as you stare up at him, eating up the view.

"Did you hear me?"

You snap to the present at his question, your eyes widening. "Huh?"

Steve snorts, shaking his head as he turns to face you. "I said, you got any plans for tonight?"

"Oh," You sit up, putting down the cool glass of juice in your hand. "Yeah, actually. Some charity gala I have to go to with John."

Grimacing, Steve narrows his eyes at you. "Do you have to go?"

You laugh at his question, standing up. "Yes, Rogers, I do. It's part of my job."

"To go to some pretentious ball?" He asks, putting down the hammer. "On that asshole's arm?"

"I'll hardly be on his arm," You insist. "And yes, it is part of my job. As a key member of the mayor's team, I have to show my face at these events."

"His team," Steve repeats bitterly under his breath. "How long you gonna be working for him?"

"That's not for you to worry your pretty little head about, Rog," You say, leaning on the wall.

He looks you up and down, slowly moving closer to you. "When are you gonna let me take you out, fiffy?"

Laughing softly, you raise a brow. "You think all is takes is you asking nicely and looking pretty?"

His cheeks tinge pink as his eyes light up. "Yeah?"

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you smirk up at him. "I don't think so, Rogers. You're gonna have to do better than that."

With all the confidence he can muster, which is apparently a lot, he grabs your hips and pulls you closer before leaning down in an attempt to plant a kiss on your lips. Instinctively, just before his lips touch yours, you bring your knee up and hit his groin, making him fall to the ground with a yell.

"Fuck!" He cries, clutching his crotch with his eyes tightly squeezed shut.

All you do is step back, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "Oops. Reflex."

"Reflex?" He repeats incredulously, breathing heavily. "That's how you react to someone trying to kiss you?"

"Someone that doesn't deserve to? Yes," You answer him with a bored tone, picking up your glass of juice and taking a sip. "I don't appreciate that, Rogers. Not one bit."

Wincing, he slowly gets back up, the pain evident on his face. "Fuck," He sighs, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, fifty-three. I shouldn't have done that."

Smiling, you nod. "I do appreciate that. You can leave, now. Thanks for the shelf."

Still flustered, Steve nods, resting his hands on his hips. "No problem. I'll, uh, I'll see you later, fif."

"See ya, Rog," You sing as he walks towards the exit, muttering to yourself with a smile once he's gone. "Idiot."

The dark blue dress adorns your body, fitting your every curve perfectly. It's floor length with a high slit on your left thigh; a perfect combination of classy and sexy. The low neckline compliments your chest, along with the elegant silver necklace you're wearing.

Your phone buzzes with a text, and you pick it up from your bed to see that it's from Lemar, John's assistant.

L. Hoskins

Boss wants to know when you're arriving.

With a sigh, you send him a response, letting him know you'll be there in twenty minutes.

After spraying on some perfume, you stuff your car keys into your purse and leave your house, silently dreading the night that awaits you. Steve was right; these events are pretentious and John loves having you on his arm during them, as though it gives him a chance to pretend you haven't rejected him multiple times and you aren't just his professional advisor.

The second your door shuts behind you, you see Steve in his front yard. He's doing something with his bike, so you slowly walk over to him. Some sort of woven basket is sitting on the back of his bike and he's tying it down with thin rope.

"Whatcha doing there, Mr. Rogers?" You ask lightly, making him turn to you.

If he had the willpower to look away the first time, he'd have done a double take. His lips part as he looks you up and down, the enamor clear in his eyes.

"Sweet Jesus," He mumbles, before rubbing his mouth. "You're absolutely fuckin' gorgeous, fif."

Admittedly, you enjoy the compliment, but you don't let him know that. "I know," You quip. "On my way to the gala."

His face drops at that and he shakes his head. "How am I supposed to let you leave knowing you're going for that bastard? In that dress?"

"Let me leave?" You repeat with a questioning look. "You're walking on eggshells, Rog; I'd be careful if I were you."

Smirking, he takes a few steps closer to you. "You know us biker boys, fif," He utters, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Anything but careful."

Raising a brow, you fold your arms across your chest. "Watch yourself, fifty-one."

Steve takes another step closer. "I'm about to steal you away and keep you to myself tonight," He informs you lowly. "And you and I both know that if you really wanted to, you'd stop me."

Your breath is stolen by his admission. Though you know men like Steve well, none have ever dared to be so assertive, knowing who your uncle was. It's a breath of fresh air, but it also puts you on edge, because for the first time, you don't feel fully in control.

Without further warning, he lifts you up by your hips and throws you over his shoulder, making you gasp. He sits you down on his bike and gets on behind you, wrapping one of his arms around your torso while he kicks the bike into gear.

"What the fuck?" You spit, turning back to him.

He simply winks arrogantly before driving off into the night, doing as he said he would and stealing you away.

Thirteen minutes later, you're sitting at the edge of a cliff face, looking down at the water which gleams with the reflection of the moon.

"You're fuckin' insane, you know that?" You call out to him while he rummages through the box he had put at the back of his bike behind you. "I'm gonna be so late to the gala."

"You aren't going to that stupid party," He tells you curtly, making your eyes roll.

You play hard to get and this is how he retaliates? There just ain't a single decent gentleman left in the world.

"Alright," Steve says, clapping his hand together. "Come on, pretty girl. Let's eat."

Confused, you turn your head to look behind you, your face dropping at the sight. You immediately stand up, gathering the skirt of your dress beneath you while taking in the view. Steve stands proudly and on the grass in front of him lies a black, skull-print tapestry. On the tapestry is a bottle of red wine, two glasses, and an array of different foods.

"What the actual fuck?" You whisper, slowly walking closer. "You kidnapped me to take me on a picnic?"

His smile never falters as he holds his hand out to you. "Come on, fif. Sit with me."

Utterly baffled, you decide to just go along with it. He's put a lot of effort in, so maybe you can forgive the abduction part of the night. Reluctantly, you walk over and take his outstretched hand, sitting down with him.

"I hope you realize how unhinged you're being," You mumble, looking down at the tasty-looking food. "Good picnic, though."

"I've told you before, fiffy; I get what I want," He tells you smugly while popping open the wine.

Narrowing your eyes, you look up at him. "I don't think I've ever actually heard you say that."

"No?" He asks with a frown before shrugging. "Well, either way, it's true."

"And why is it that you want me?" You interrogate him. "Just 'cuz you like the way I look? Or maybe the fact that my uncle was your idol is the base of your interest in me?"

He pours the wine out into the glasses while answering you. "No, fif, it ain't just the way you look. And it sure as shit ain't because of your uncle, 'cuz I liked you from the second I moved in."

"Oh, please," You scoff with an eye roll. "You think I'm gonna fall for that cliché bullshit? Get real with me, Rog."

"I think you're cute," He admits with a shrug. "I think you're gorgeous."

"And that's it?" You ask, unimpressed. "You don't even know me."

"And that's what tonight is for," He explains, handing you a glass.

"You think you can get to know me in one night?" You question him, taking the glass from his hand and having a sip.

"No, but I can sure as shit make a good start," Steve states firmly. "And trust me, fif, once you get to know me, the whole uninterested act will melt away like butter."

Laughing, you shake your head. "You think it's an act?"

There's a sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you, mischief in his smirk. "Gimme two weeks and you'll be telling me how you like your eggs in the morning."

Taken aback, you scoff, before becoming slightly disappointed. "I don't know what kind of woman you take me for, Rog, but I'm not the kind that's gonna fuck you for the sake of it."

His eyes widen as he sits up. "I didn't mean it like that," He claims. "That's not all I want from you, fif. I'm not that kind of guy."

"No?" You ask, tilting your head. "So, if I said I wanted you to fuck me right now, under the moon and stars with nobody but the trees as our witness, you'd turn me down?"

He swallows thickly but stays strong. "I'd turn you down, fif," He utters lowly. "I'm not that kind of guy."

Leaning closer to him, you rest your hand on his leg. "And what if I said I wanted to suck your cock?" You ask him, teasingly rubbing his thigh.

Clenching his jaw, Steve rips his eyes away from yours, almost in pain. "How about you shut your mouth, huh?" He asks with feigned irritation. "How about that?"

You laugh heartily at that, letting yourself feel comfortable and safe around him. "Oh, Rog, you're just too damn easy," You grin, taking your hand off his leg and placing it on his chest instead.

Steve wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. It feels nice to be here with him like this, and your gut is telling you to trust that he's a good guy. Sure, he kidnapped you, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to.

"For what it's worth," He begins after a few moments of silence. "First thing I'm doing, once we're both ready, is eating you out."

Your heart skips a beat as you lift up your head and stare at him. With parted lips, you scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry; I just had to let you know," He says quickly, squeezing your shoulder. "Just putting it out there."

"This picnic is over," You state bluntly, preparing to stand up.

His grip around you tightens as he keeps you close to him, refusing to let you go. "It hasn't even started!" He exclaims. "You haven't even touched the food yet. Come on, fiffy, let's eat."

You glare at him, bitterly muttering, "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Shut up. Come on, eat a brownie. Wan made them - not allergic to nuts, are you?"

The two of you begin to eat, and he admittedly brought along a great selection. There's fruit, wraps from the fancy deli in town, and chips, along with a wide variety of desserts. Two glasses of wine later, you've loosened up and are admittedly having a great time.

"Try it," Steve mumbles, holding a small piece of cookie to your lips. "I made them myself."

Surprised, and intrigued, you open your mouth and let him feed the bite to you. It's chewy with raspberry and white chocolate chips, and you suspiciously narrow your eyes at him.

"You did not make that," You say once you've swallowed, grabbing some more of the cookie. "There's no way."

"Nah, I didn't," He admits sheepishly. "Believed it for a second, though, didn't you?"

Before you can hit his shoulder and call him an idiot, your phone starts to ring. You sigh before rummaging though your purse and fishing it out, wincing when you see it's a call from John.

"Don't pick up," Steve mutters, his grip around you loosening.

"He's my boss," You sigh. "I have no choice. I'm sorry, Steve, this won't take long."

Nodding, he removes his arm from around you, letting you move away before answering the phone.

"Hey, John," You begin, not in the mood for whatever shit he's about to give you.

"Where the fuck are you, Y/N?" He asks you, clearly pissed off. "You told Lemar twenty minutes, and it's been an hour."

"I know, I'm sorry," You apologize, hating every second of it. "I just don't feel so good all of a sudden."

He grumbles at that, and you can tell he's rolling his eyes. "What; did you start your period, or something?"

Now it's you rolling your eyes. "Uh, no," You say curtly. "I'm just not feeling well. I won't be making it to the gala."

"Fuck's sake. Thanks a lot for that, Y/N," He shoots gruffly. "Whatever it is, it better not keep you from coming into the office on Monday."

You glance over at Steve, keeping your face straight. "It won't."

"Alright. Well, feel better soon," John says with a sigh. "See you Monday, kid."

"Goodnight, have fun at the gala," You reply before hanging up and tossing your phone onto the grass.

"He mad?" Steve wonders with a raised brow.

"He'll get over it," You tell him, before looking at him with a small smile. "I bet you feel good, keeping me away from Walker, hmm?"

"You bet your pretty fuckin' ass I do," He smirks, patting his thigh as he leans back against a tree. "C'mere, baby."

Rolling your eyes, you keep your ass planted on the skull-print tapestry. "You have not yet earned 'baby' rights, let alone lap-sitting rights."

The smirk on his face never lets up as he stares at you. "What'll it take, fif? I'd do anything."

"Anything?" You repeat with a raised brow.

"And everything," He promises. "Just name it."

Thinking on it, you look up at the sky before grinning. "I want the moon."

"The moon?" He chuckles. "Say no more. I'll throw a lasso 'round it and pull it down."

Getting back onto your knees, you slowly begin to crawl closer to him. "And all the stars, too."

"They're yours," Steve swears, the excitement blooming in his eyes. "Every last one."

"And I want diamonds," You tease him, biting your lip. "Lots of 'em."

"All of 'em," He mumbles, watching as you reach him. "I'll put the prettiest one in a ring for you."

"And I want one of those eggs," You say, on your knees beside him. "You know, those fancy, Russian ones?"

"Fabergé," He mumbles, glancing down at your lips. "You want a Fabergé egg?"

"Mhm," You confirm, resting your hand on his shoulder. "The rarest, most expensive one."

"Consider it yours," Steve whispers. "Anything else?"

A tension sits between you, and you know you can't hold back on the one thing you truly want.

"A kiss."

The look in his eyes pulls you in, as well as his hands which cup your face. You slowly lean forward, gently pressing your lips to his. The kiss isn't gentle for long, though, as he slips his tongue into your mouth, rubbing it against yours. Every inch of your skin is lit up, and you let him pull you onto his lap as the kiss deepens.

His hand moves down to your leg where his fingers slip under the slit in your dress as he grips your thigh. Your hand trails up to the back of his head and you run your nails through his hair, making him shiver. The kiss lasts for a few more seconds before you pull away, breathing heavily with a racing heart.

Neither of you speak at first, your eyes burning into each other as you teeter on the edge of something. You aren't sure what it is, yet, but you know it's something.

"Hmm," Steve hums simply, making you frown.

"Hmm, what?" You ask defensively.

"Nothin'," He replies lowly. "Just waitin' for you to kiss me some more."

Hitting his shoulder, you purse your lips together. "You should be so lucky, Rog. That's all that's on the menu tonight. Sorry to disappoint."

"I'm not disappointed at all," He says smugly. "Not at all, baby."

Knowing he'll take full advantage of his newfound rights to calling you that, you roll your eyes. "I was being serious about the Fabergé. Also, what was that you were saying about a ring?"

His eyes widen. "Uh, I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, I'm pretty sure you mentioned something about a diamond ring," You say teasingly, squeezing his shoulder. "Gonna get down on one knee when you give it to me?"

Smirking, he sticks his tongue in his cheek. "You really do need to start shutting that mouth of yours, fif."

"Watch it, Rogers," You warn him. "Don't you know who I am?"

"Oh, I do," He confirms with a nod. "There's more bike in your blood than oxygen. I wouldn't dare try and mess you around."

"You sure about that?" You question, trying not to sound too invested in his answer.

He lets out a sigh, stroking your hips. "I'm sure, Drifter. You ain't got a single thing to worry about when you're with me."

"I'm never worried," You claim boldly. "You couldn't intimidate me if you tried your hardest, blondie."

"No?" Steve asks, lowering his voice as he cups your cheek and pulls your face closer to his. "I may be nice to you, but I'm not a nice man, little girl."

You give him a small smile. "Maybe that's why I like you."

His eyes flicker with delight, but he keeps his face straight. "You like me, huh? Ah, I knew it. Dumb little thing like you was bound to get attached sooner or later."

In any other circumstances, you would've ripped his dick off somewhere between 'little girl' and 'dumb', but there's something about Steve that only makes it a turn on when he talks to you like that. Maybe it's the fact that, deep down, you know he doesn't mean it. You and him both know that.

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, a dark look in his eyes. "It's not like you to be so quiet, baby. What's wrong? Getting all shy on me, now?"

You both hate and love the way he's able to reduce you down to nothing, your heart beating harder than ever. "Steve..." You whisper, almost whining.

"What's wrong, baby?" He repeats softly, giving you a sympathetic look. "Talk to me."

All you can muster up is a frustrated huff against his chest. He makes you feel vulnerable, but not in an uncomfortable way.

He strokes your hair softly, chuckling. "Clingy little baby, aren't you?"

Lifting your head up, you decide enough is enough. "I think... I think it's time for you to drop me back at my house," You say, wording it specifically so he doesn't think you're inviting him to your place.

Knowing you're as utterly smitten by him as he is by you, Steve smirks. "Alright then, fifty-three."

Your eyes flicker up to his. You say nothing.

"What's wrong, hmm?" He asks, already knowing the answer. "You prefer when daddy calls you baby?"

Okay, this has gone on long enough. What the fuck happened to playing hard to get? How can you be so far gone this soon? For a man you barely even know?

Pulling yourself out of the haze, as difficult as that is, you clear your throat. "Shut the fuck up and take me home, Rogers," You state curtly, standing up to your feet.

He stands up, too, the delight clear on his face. "Sure thing, baby."

"Shut it," You hiss, picking up your purse and making your way over to the bike.

Once he's returned the picnic things back to the basket, he ties it to the back of the bike again before getting on and driving you home. The ride is pleasant, the cool breeze whipping through your hair. You can't help but melt into his chest, hating how good it feels to have him behind you.

When he parks up outside your house ten minutes later, you clamber off immediately.

"Tonight was fun," Steve says, remaining seated on the bike as he flicks off the engine. "Really fun."

Fishing for your keys in your purse, you shrug. "Eh. It was alright."

"Come on, fif, give me something," He begs. "You had a lot more fun than you would've at that fancy gala."

Once you've found the keys, you loop the ring around your finger and look up at him. "Maybe."

He places his hand on your hip, pulling you closer. Looking up at you, he raises his brows. "Gonna gimme another kiss?"

Sighing, you let him pull you back onto his lap. You're glad it's late; the neighbors seeing the mayor's advisor canoodling with a biker is the last thing you need. When you meet Steve's eyes, you know there's no way you're leaving him without kissing him again - but he doesn't need to know that just yet.

"It was a nice picnic," You praise him, playing with the zip of his jacket. "What are we doing next time?"

His face lights up at the prospect of there being another date, but he does his best to remain candid. "Next time?"

"Mhm," You nod, deciding to put him out of his misery. It was a lovely night, after all; he deserves a little sweetness. But only a little. "One night isn't enough for us to get to know each other. You said it yourself."

Feeling his heart pound, Steve wraps his arms around you. "Why don't you let me worry about next time, then?" He utters, glancing down at your lips. "All you have to do is show up. My baby won't need to worry about a thing."

Flustered and desperately trying to hide it, you smile up at him. "Oh, yeah? Is that what I should come to expect with you?"

"Oh, absolutely," Steve confirms proudly. "Once you're my girl, you won't have to worry about a damn thing ever again."

"You seem pretty confident that I'll be your girl someday," You comment, biting your lip.

"More than confident, fiffy," He mutters, leaning in. "I've got you right where I want you already."

Immediately turned off, you narrow your eyes and pull away before standing up. "If that's what you think, then you're sorely mistaken," You tell him pointedly.

The dejection is clear in his eyes. "Wait- fif-"

"Goodnight, Rogers," You call out, slowly walking backwards. "See you around."

"Fif, come on!" He calls out as you turn away from him. "Can't leave me like this, baby!"

"Watch me!" You reply without turning back, unlocking and opening your front door. Without giving him another glance, you walk in and shut the door behind you.

On his bike, Steve can't help but let out a single, baffled laugh. What the fuck just happened?

"Sweet Jesus, Stevie, you got your hands full with this one," He mutters to himself. "What a woman."

side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates

part 3 >>

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#YEAAAHHHHHHH #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #biker!steve #series

[murvelle]

Biker Blood

18+

When the guy you're dating turns out to be a creep, you call on your new neighbor for help.

Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, creepy stalker scary OC x reader, mature themes, harassment, angst, protective!steve, violence, fighting, mention of blood, fluff, soft!steve, flirting, sexual tension.

Ben

10:38

I really fell for you, Y/N. You just led me on

What did I do wrong?

10:40

Talk to me

10:45

You're all the fucking same you fucking whores. I bet you do this to guys all the time

10:53

Just give me a chance. Don't I deserve that at least?

I know where you live. Say the word and I'll come over.

Let me come over to see you

11:02

Don't fucking ignore me you bitch you stupid little bitch

Do you know what I'm capable of?

"What the fuck?" You whisper under your breath with wide eyes as your heart races.

You should've spotted the red flags from the start. Inwardly kicking yourself, you let your thoughts spiral. Shit. What if he actually comes over? This guy's insane; what if he attacks you?

All you did was cancel a date. Having started your period this morning, you were in no mood to dress up and go out with Ben from Tinder, but he immediately flipped. For the past three hours, he's been hurling abuse at you over text, claiming that you cancelled on him because you're not into him - and now that you've seen his true colors, you regret ever being into him at all.

The muffled sound of cheers break you from your thoughts, reminding you of the group of bikers next door. Steve Rogers moved in a few weeks ago, but you're yet to have a proper conversation with him - having said that, you still trust him a heck of a lot more than Ben right now.

Gathering up all the courage you have, you head over and knock on Steve's front door, shivering from both your fear and the cool summer breeze. The door opens a few moments later, revealing Steve in a tight white t-shirt. A few of his friends behind him spot you, and immediately break into childish cheers. Steve rolls his eyes before stepping forward, using the door to shield you from their view.

"Hey there, fifty-three," He greets you gently, casually looking you up and down. "Are we being too loud?"

"No, not at all," You say instantly, playing with your fingers. "Uh... I just..."

"What is it?" Steve asks you, a look of concern growing on his face. "Everything alright?"

Wincing, you meet his eyes. "There's a guy... this guy I've been seeing recently, and we were supposed to meet tonight, but I cancelled, and he just completely lost his shit and got super pissed off at me, but he knows where I live and now I'm scared he's gonna come over and try something."

Taking in your words, Steve's frown deepens as he slowly nods. "Has he threatened you?"

"Not explicitly," You answer truthfully. "But he mentioned about how he knows my address, so I'm just a little... terrified."

"Right," He mumbles, thinking to himself before speaking again. "Tell him to come over."

Your face drops. "Huh?"

"Tell him to come over," Steve repeats bluntly. "I'll talk to him for you, fifty-three."

Blinking up at him, you can't help but nod. This is what you wanted, isn't it? "Okay."

"Come on in; we'll take care of you in the mean time," He says, opening the door a little wider before turning his head and yelling, "Wan, get over here!"

A redhead rushes over, smiling when she sees you. "Hey, Steve's pretty neighbor. I'm Wanda. Wanna join the party?"

Your cheeks heat up as you smile back. "Hi, I'm Y/N- but I don't wanna intrude."

"You're not intruding, fif," Steve assures you, taking your hand and gently pulling you in. "Come on. We have food and beer. Give me your phone and I'll handle this prick."

Just as Wanda whisks you into the living room, Steve takes your unlocked phone from your outstretched hand before reading through the texts, his jaw clenching as he scrolls up. The last thing you see before you're dragged into the room is Steve pulling one of his friends closer and muttering angrily into his ear.

"Steve has a crush on you," Wanda tells you, making you laugh softly. "Won't shut up about how pretty the flowers in your front yard are."

"Well, don't tell him this, but they're fake," You reveal quietly, making her gasp.

"He'll be heartbroken!" She exclaims dramatically before turning to the others. "Everyone, meet the famous neighbor from number fifty-three!"

Laughing nervously, you smile at them. "Hi. I'm Y/N."

A chorus of warm greetings overwhelms you, and Wanda gets to introducing everyone. There's Natasha who's sharpening a dagger, Bucky whose leather jacket is getting a little tight around his arms, Tony who's in the middle of trying to convince Bucky to just rip the arms of his jacket off, Thor who kindly gives you a tight hug and a beer, and Sam who Steve has taken with him to your house.

"Not everyone's here, but we're the only ones worth knowing," Wanda tells you with a wink.

They're a lot friendlier than they look, but you're not surprised by their warm hospitality as these aren't the only bikers you know. At some point in the night, you find yourself sitting on the couch in front of the window, through which you have a perfect view of Steve confronting Ben.

"Oh, honey, you don't wanna see that," Thor warns you, reaching his arm out to you in an effort to get you away from the window.

Keeping your eyes on Steve's intimidating stance as he yells at Ben, you shake your head. "No, I do."

Thor and Wanda share a wide-eyed look before shrugging. You watch on as Ben does his best to stand his ground, likely spouting utter nonsense. You gasp a little when Steve throws the first punch, feeling a jolt in the pit of your stomach. The fight quickly intensifies after that, but Ben can barely get a hit in edgeways against Steve who pummels him to the ground. You look away once Ben's face is covered in blood, breathing heavily.

"You okay, Y/N?" Tony asks, leaning forward.

"Fine," You reply with a nod before taking a long swig of beer.

A few minutes later, Steve and Sam reenter the house. Steve walks into the living room while wiping the blood off his knuckles with a handkerchief, the sight making your heart skip a beat. He walks right over to you, puts your phone back into your pocket, and crouches down in front of you.

"You okay, fif?" He asks with a whisper, waiting for you to nod before continuing. "I took care of him for you. You don't have to worry about that asshole anymore, alright?"

You nod again, putting down your beer. "Thank you, Steve."

"Don't mention it," He says before standing back up and holding his hand out to you. "C'mon, fiffy. Let's get you some fresh air."

Once you're outside with him, you wrap your arms around yourself, wondering how you got yourself into this mess. You're never online dating again.

You slowly walk around his front yard, unable to take your eyes off his bike. It stands out from the others. You can tell that it's old, but he takes good care of it. Watching him ride it is a daily habit for you, and ever since he moved in, the sound of the roaring engine has become part of your morning and night routines. It's almost comforting.

"Wanna go for a ride?" Steve asks from behind you, making you jump slightly.

"Oh, no," You say, shaking your head. "I'm good."

"C'mon, fif; it'll help you relax," He promises, resting his hand on your shoulder. "I'm a safe driver. Safest ride you'll ever have the pleasure of experiencing."

"I don't know," You mumble.

"It'll be fun. What do you say?" He asks, patting the seat. "Be my back warmer, fiffy."

And apparently, that's all it takes. Within minutes, your night has taken yet another turn, and you're currently riding through the dark on your neighbor's Harley.

Admittedly, it is fun. All your anxiety and fear from earlier has dissipated, along with your long-term stress. The only thing that you can focus on is how good the wind feels sweeping through your hair, and how safe you feel with your arms wrapped around Steve's back.

He takes you to the lake about a mile from your street, the one you walk by every now and then. It's calm, and peaceful, but you've never dared to come here past nightfall - Steve's presence, however, deters any fear you may be feeling.

"Pretty view, ain't it?" He asks while you get off the bike and smooth down your hair.

You look over at him with a smile. "Beautiful." And he is beautiful. Under the moonlight, his blue eyes look darker, but they retain their spark. His beard is neat and his hair is rugged, and he smells like pine and beer.

The two of you sit by the lake for a few minutes in blissful peace before Steve speaks up again.

"Why didn't you call the police?" He asks you, looking over at you with a slight frown.

You keep your eyes on the lake as you lean back on your palms. "They'd take longer to arrive," You explain simply.

He raises a brow and you know he doesn't believe you.

Sighing, you sit up and turn to face him. "Alright... I wanted you to beat him up."

That makes him smirk. Steve's proud not only that you wanted to see him in action, but also that you knew he'd fuck up anyone who hurt you. He's only been your neighbor for three weeks, but he already feels protective over you and your safety.

"The mayor's assistant shouldn't be saying stuff like that," He says teasingly, taking you by surprise.

"I'm not Walker's assistant; I'm his advisor," You correct him.

"Think he's a good mayor?" Steve asks you, inwardly sighing. John Walker is the bane of his life, working to extinguish gangs like Steve's and lock them all up. Why does someone as pretty as you have to work for that prick?

"He does his best," You tell him with a shrug.

Steve looks up at the starry night, letting out a sigh. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shiver, so he quickly pulls off his jacket before wrapping it around you and pulling you closer into his chest.

"Thank you," You utter with a small smile, feeling your heart race. "Thank you for everything tonight. Your friends are nice."

He leans down, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You were scared of me before, weren't you?"

"You're not scary," You say truthfully. "Not to me, anyway. I grew up with men like you. I was raised by one."

Taken aback by pleasant surprise, Steve chuckles. "Yeah? Your old man was a biker?"

"My uncle," You tell him with a smile as the memories overtake you. "Before I moved here, I lived in Detroit. They, uh, my family was involved in some bad stuff."

"Bad stuff?" He repeats, intrigued.

"You know; typical, one-percenter biker stuff," You say casually.

"Detroit..." Steve mumbles under his breath as he connects the dots. "They weren't affiliated with the Drifters, were they?"

Your eyes widen as you sit up. "You know them?"

"You know them?" He retorts with a chuckle.

"I more than know them," You reveal. "My uncle was the leader."

Baffled, Steve moves away as though to get a proper look at you. "Old Vinnie was your uncle?"

"You knew him?" You ask, unable to hold back your smile.

"I more than knew him," He admits with a grin. "Vin was my fuckin' idol. Growing up, I heard all the stories about him and the Drifters. Damn. Shit, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your loss."

You shake your head, patting his knee. "Thank you."

Steve can't help but stare at you in awe. Here he was, thinking you were a simple city girl, and you turned out to be the blood of the most legendary man he knew. "If I knew you were Drifter blood, I'd have fuckin' killed that asshole," He tells you, referring to Ben.

"Ah, that's alright; he's learnt his lesson," You say flippantly. "And, for the record, I could've easily taken care of the situation myself."

"Oh, yeah?" Steve asks with a cocky smirk.

"Absolutely. I would've left him worse off than you did," You tell him honestly. "But, before Uncle Vin died, he made me promise that I'd stay out of trouble. That I'd get out of Detroit and live a simple, safe life."

"So, you let me do the dirty work, instead?" He questions before shrugging. "Works for me. I'd be honored to help you out whenever you need me, fifty-three. Anything for the niece of Old Vinnie."

"I appreciate that, Rogers," You say gratefully. "I'm glad you're my neighbor."

He smiles, nudging your shoulder with his. "The feeling's mutual, fif. And, for what it's worth, you can consider yourself one of us. I know it won't be the same, and you'll always be a Drifter at heart, but I'm here. Whenever you need me."

"Whenever I need you?" You repeat teasingly.

"Whenever," He confirms, before narrowing his eyes at you. "How could a Drifter ever work for a man like Walker? You know he's actively working to destroy gangs like us?"

"I know," You say bluntly, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"And you don't think you're betraying the biker blood in your veins by advocating for him?" He questions you, almost offended.

Letting out a long sigh, you look up at the stars. "My uncle taught me a lot of things, Rogers. Everything I know. I live the way I do because of the values he gave me. He had these sayings he lived and died by, and some of them stuck with me," You tell him, recalling your uncle's words. "One in particular stood out. A stupid man attacks his enemies. A smart man befriends his. The stupid man strikes in broad daylight, head-on. The smart one takes them down from the inside."

Lips parted, Steve raises his brows. He takes a few seconds to gather his thoughts before letting out a chuckle of disbelief. "I had you all wrong, fif."

"Appearances are deceitful," You say with a smirk. "Another one of Vinnie's sayings."

Shaking his head, Steve is in awe of you. "What does my appearance tell you about me?"

You look him up and down, taking the chance to soak in his beauty. "You appear hard, and confident. Maybe even mean. But I know men like you, Rogers. Underneath it all, you're a little sweetheart."

"Is that really what you think?" He questions, leaning closer to you. "You're really not scared of me?"

"Not in the slightest," You whisper back, never once backing down from his intense gaze.

He licks his lips, moving even closer. "You... you're really fucking sexy."

You snort at that, rolling your eyes before pushing him away. "I'm not that easy, Rogers. You're gonna have to try harder than that."

"So, I have a chance?" He asks, doing his best to hide his excitement.

"Sure," You answer him with a casual shrug. "Why not?"

"Alright," He says, accepting the challenge. "Let me take you to dinner tomorrow."

"Can't. I'm busy," You reply, standing up. "Take me home, Rogers. I'm tired."

With that, you walk back over to the bike, and Steve rushes to follow you with a racing heart and a growing smile. This is gonna be fun.

Part Two >>

steve masterlist

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#ACVGDSCGHCDGBBVTCV #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #series #biker!steve

[murvelle]

of course i fell in love with him. he is sopping wet and miserable

[murvelle]

#ari levinson

[murvelle]

Ok for murderer Monday 😶‍🌫️

Imagine being softdark!Lee's little housewife and getting your period and he gets soooooo protective of you esp. in public and when you're both alone and you're in pain and he's heard that pleasure can fix that sooooo....

AaaaAAAAAAH YES. It's been so long since I wrote for Lee. I need more Lee thots hehe

Home Remedies

Summary: When your period comes with a vengeance, Lee is quick to dote on you. But when the regular methods of pain relief seem to be failing you, Lee suggests another way to make you feel better.

Pairing: soft dark!Lee Bodecker x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), fluff, fingering (f receiving), pet names (princess, baby doll, baby, nothing crazy), period sex, bleeding (obvi), Lee being Lee which is naturally darker but still very loving, brief mentions of force feeding, dry humping, Lee coming in his pants, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Word count: idk, I wrote this on my phone.

A/N: Holy crap, I accidentally wrote a fic! Look at me go! This was supposed to be short but it turned out to be a full length fic! I'm honestly so surprised and proud of myself. I hope you enjoy it! Hehe let me know how you feel! Comments and reblogs are always welcome! 💖

Kisses 💋

—K

Lee made it a point to track your cycle, it made life easier for the both of you. He knew when your attitude was less than agreeable that your monthly was just round the corner, which helped him keep a level head most of the time. He knew when you'd burst into tears because you were out of lemons and he forgot to pick them up from the store, that your monthly was approaching. As much as it drove him up the walls to have you all over the place, he knew there was no avoiding it. Just as there was no avoiding the itch deep inside him to watch over you.

On a good day, Lee had a hard time leaving you at home by yourself. The worry that someone might break in, or something might happen while he's gone lived permanently in the back of his head. No matter how many times that you tell him that you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, Lee had a hard time buying it. He just wants to make sure you're safe, that's all.

So when you're curled up in bed way past the time you normally get up, that need to hover around you comes back full swing. You were certain there was a knife in your abdomen, and it was slowly but surely cutting its way through your insides. You were flushed hot, but felt annoyingly chilly at the same time. After 20 minutes of wrestling with the blankets you found a position that didn't hurt.

"Babydoll?" You hear Lee's groggy voice laced with concern from behind you. "You feelin' ok?"

"Cramps," is all you could say through the discomfort. Lee clocked the pained whine in your voice and the waves of tension that radiated off of you immediately.

"Period come early, or your tummy?" He sat up and rubbed his eyes, ready to get whatever you needed.

"Period," you grumble softly. He grunts in acknowledgement and makes his way towards the medicine cabinet, grabbing the painkillers and a cool washcloth for your forehead, he could feel the heat emanating from you.

"Here you go, honey," he whispers as he hands you the two pills and the glass of water you keep by your bedside. You swallow them down with some effort, the water settling in your stomach makes you nauseated.

"Thanks," you sigh as he sets the half empty cup down and eases the damp washcloth across your heated skin.

"Y'welcome," he whispers and mozies his way downstairs, ready to call Ida at the station to tell her that he won't be in today. He comes back to bed less than 10 minutes later, lightly buttered toast and a small plate of fruit in hand. You sigh when you see the food, knowing that it's a lot easier to just eat the food rather than argue with him about it. Last time you did, he sat there and basically forced the slices if oranges down your throat. Lesson learned.

Once Lee was satisfied with the amount of food you'd eaten, he tucked you back into bed, this time setting a red towel beneath you to catch any excess blood.

"There you go," he presses a kiss to your face and straightens up, "if y'need anythin', you tell me, alright?"

"I will, honey, thank you," you smile up at him softly. While he still was the rough and burly sheriff of Knockemstiff, you couldn't deny the fact that he loved you to pieces. He gave you that boyish smile that he knows you love so much, and went about his way.

Your little nap lasted for about an hour before the cramps came back with a vengeance. The dull ache was now replaced with piercing pains that shot through you. Deep groans pulled their way from your throat as you writhe in your spot, unwanting to move too much.

"What's the matter?" a concerned Lee ask from the door, your pained groans having alerted him. Unable to answer him, he crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, still in his pajama pants and undershirt. "Is it bad? Want more pills?"

"N-Nooo," you whimper with a shake of your head, you knew they'd do nothing to quell the pain in your abdomen.

"What do you need, honey? Tell me," he sighs softly, his face pinched in pain, mirroring your own grimace. Seeing you like this definitely did a number on him. "Hm?"

"Don't know," you mumble, frustrated that you have no clue what could possibly make this better.

"Wanna try something? I heard it's supposed t'help make everything better," he says, a playful yet caring glint in his eye. He can tell he has your attention now, that you're just desperate enough to want relief no matter how you got it. "They say that gettin' off helps relax the muscles that are crampin', helps you relax. Don't that sound nice?"

Lee tucks a strand of your hair behind your head, smiling when you nuzzle into his palm on instinct. He read about it months ago and was just waiting for the opportunity to put it to the test. Now all he has to do is get you to agree, which he knows is going to be a piece of cake. He watches as you chew over his proposition.

"Gettin' off?" You ask softly, looking up at your husband.

"Yes, babydoll," he leans in closer with a soft nod, slowly but surely moving to hover over you, "gettin' you off... makin' you finish."

It's second nature to spread your thighs for Lee, your body welcoming his own as he cages you in underneath him. You could see the predatory gleam in his eye as he watched you, waiting patiently for your answer. You knew that this was partly for his own pleasure, but the saccharine promise of relief from the pain was enough for you.

"Ok," you nod, your arms moving to lazily sling around his broad shoulders. Lee gives you that pleased smirk that sends butterflies fluttering through your tummy, a welcomed contrast to the shooting jabs and dull aches.

"Alright," he purrs, clearly pleased with your answer, and lowers his body down to yours carefully. You whine softly at the pressure, but he's quick to shush you gently. "It's ok, babydoll, it's alright. Jus' let me take care of everythin', and you be a good girl and relax, hm? All you gotta do is feel good."

He whispers his loving promises into your skin as he peppers tender kisses along your jaw, making his way to your lips. You both let out a shared moan of relief when your lips finally slot together. The slow movements of Lee's unfairly large hands pull your mind away from the discomfort you feel, the further south they travel the heavier you breathe.

"L-Lee," you moan into his mouth when he gently cups your sex, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he holds you in his palm, the heat from your core drove him fucking crazy. He groans softly as he begins to pet you, stroking your mound in slow motions, careful not to push too hard. Your eyes stay shut as small little whimpers of pleasure fall from your lips. The feeling of his hand rubbing your sensitive parts has a mixture of arousal and blood gushing out of you, just for Lee to feel.

"That's it, babygirl," he groans, letting his own eyes shut for a moment to just feel the growing wetness of your cunt through your panties. The small sparks of pleasure are soon not enough anymore, and you try to tell him with a gentle nudge of your hips. "Wan' more already?"

"Uh-huh," you nod, ignoring the teasing lilt to his voice. He gives your lips another peck before he's peeling off your panties and discarding them to the floor.

"So wet for me, aren't ya, Sweetheart? Always so wet," he coos as his thick fingers glide easily through your petals. Lee bites his lip when he smells the metalic scent of your blood mixing with the tang of your arousal— he could get used to this.

"Oh my god," you sigh and grip his white undershirt in your fists, your head lolling to the side as he circles your clit in slow, precise movements. You were so fucking sensitive, it was nearly overwhelming. The gentle touches left you burning for more and breathless, then you had Lee above you, watching your every expression with his own hungry gaze, and speaking in that thick drawl— it was dizzying.

"Oh, fuck!" You whimper as a thick finger fills you slowly, your back arches off the bed on instinct. The deep grunt that leaves Lee has you clamping down around his forefinger, his thumb replacing his finger on your clit. Lee was certain he's never been this hard in his life than he is right now, watching you lose yourself to the pleasure he's providing. His cock flexes against your inner thigh as he pumps his finger in and out of you at a sluggish pace.

"There you go, baby, there you go," he rasps under his breath, his eyes drinking in every little expression you make. The way your nose scrunches, how your eyebrows furrow together when he touches that special spot inside you, the way your gorgeous lips stay parted to let those beautiful moans flow freely. "So fucking beautiful, y'know that? Make me so crazy for ya, Princess, can't get enough a'you, never get enough."

The stretch of another finger joining his first has your hips trying to rut, chasing the pleasure, but Lee's heavy frame keeps you in your spot. He speeds up ever so slightly, the sound of his fingers sinking into your sopping cunt over and over fill the room.

"Oh fuck, y'hear that? Hear how wet you are?" Lee growls, the slick sounds being his undoing. His fingers speed up, keeping their pressure light as he stretches you out. You gasp and moan as the pleasure builds, the tension growing in your lower tummy draws tighter and tighter with each swipe of his thumb against your clit.

"Lee, m'gonna cum!" You gasp and toss your head back, your legs squirming as he works you closer and closer to your high.

"Yeah? Y'gonna cum on my fingers, baby? Gonna make a fucking mess?" His voice is rough, his own hips beginning to rut, humping himself against your thigh for some relief. The act alone sends you shooting higher ans higher towards your crest. "C'mon, honey, I want you t'come for me."

You didn't stand a chance.

"Lee!" You cry out as you finish, your body thrashing as waves of bliss crash down over you again and again. You can hear Lee's pleased grunts in your ear as you clench down around his fingers, his thumb working you through your high. A rush of wetness seeps from your core, coating Lee's hand and dripping down your skin to the towel. It's not long until you feel his covered cock throbbing wildly against you.

"F-Fuck!" He curses harshly as his own end catches up to him, soaking his boxers and pajama pants. Throaty groans resonate through his chest as he rocks against you to milk his high as long as possible. Heavy breaths replace the moans that filled the shared bedroom. Peeling your eyes open, you gaze up at the ceiling as you try to catch your breath.

Lee sighs and pulls himself from the comfort of your shoulder to look down at you with a soft smile. His face flushed pink and sweat beads his forehead from your activities and shared body heat and you can't help but beam up at him with that same lovesick smile you give him.

"How're y'feelin', Princess, any better?" He asks in a breathless voice. You giggle softly and relax your grip on his shirt to smooth out the wrinkles you left.

"I forgot that's what this was for," you admit bashfully, making him chuckle with you.

"Well, good, then I did my job right."

"You always do, Sheriff Bodecker," you coo and give him a kiss, already feeling more like yourself. Lee groans into the kiss at the title.

"You're a little minx," he whispers in between another kiss before propping himself up on his forearm, giving his attention to his fingers still buried in your cunt. "Fuuuuck me," he groans when he sees the mess you made. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs and part of his hand, the glisten of your cum recognizable on your lips and his wrist. Slowly, he withdraws from your pussy, watching intensely as his fingers emerge coated in your essence and blood.

The little whimper you give when he leaves you completely empty has his dick stirring in his trousers. Lee sucks in a deep breath as he brings his fingers from between your legs to get a better look.

"Would y'look at that?" He marvels, mostly to himself, as his fingers gleam in the late morning sunshine. Your face heats up at his actions, embarrassment taking hold as he shows you his bloody, cum covered fingers. Lee's eyes are fixed on his digits as he plays with the strings of wetness for a moment before bringing them to his lips. A loud moan vibrates in his chest at your taste, his eyes sliding shut in bliss as he cleans you from his hand. He finally releases them with a pop.

"Fuckin' divine is what you are, Princess. Fuckin' heavenly," he growls, his dick fully hard in his pajama pants as he begins to rut into your thigh again, his eyes dark with hunger again as he quickly unties the drawstring of his pants. "M'gonna fuck ya all fuckin' week, make sure ya don't feel nothin' but pleasure— fuck, m'gonna take care of ya, Princess, I promise."

And he did.

Comments and reblogs are always welcome! Hehe

I no longer have a taglist! If you wish to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library 💖

#YESSSSSSS #he’s such a sweetheart and such a slut I love it #lee bodecker x reader #oneshot #smut

[murvelle]

Repost from @darkroomlament on IG

I got the honor last week of photographing the amazing @imsebastianstan and honestly… he was so kind, and funny, and absolutely willing to just be a great sport for our shots. Thank you to @vidiots for the opportunity and for hosting FRESH, and they have posted even more photos from the event on their page - please go leave them some love.

#AAAAAAAAAAA #sebastian stan

[murvelle]

OH MY GOD??????

THEY WERE GATEKEEPING IT FOR 10 YEARS

#the last one😮‍💨 #bucky barnes #sebastain stan #the winter soldier

[murvelle]

cherry blossoms must be magic

pairing: former winter soldier!bucky barnes x reader

summary: you organize a trip to see the cherry blossoms for yourself and anyone living in avengers tower and, to your surprise, you're joined by the former winter soldier, bucky barnes.

warnings: FLUFF—like so much fluff—and angst, recovering bucky barnes, lots of bucky barnes feels, bucky barnes gets verbally abused by a stranger and reader doesn't take it well

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i was thinking about how cherry blossom season is almost over and how soft and sweet it would be for a recently rescued/escaped bucky barnes to go see them with a girl who's more than a little bit smitten with him even if he doesn't know it—and i had to write it! i just wanted to write a short, fluffy piece and while this ended up being a little longer than i expected (as usual!) i adore this soft version of bucky a lot!!!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡

-

You’d lived and worked at Avengers Tower in New York City for a couple years and you still hadn’t gotten out to Brooklyn to see the cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. It was one of the things you’d dreamed of doing ever since you’d learned you were moving to the city. You’d seen photos online and maybe it was silly, but they were so beautiful you thought cherry blossoms must be magic.

So when it was finally the right time of year for the cherry blossoms to bloom, you organized a day trip with anyone from Avengers Tower who wanted to go, even rented a fleet of vans to take you all from Manhattan to Brooklyn. To your surprise, a couple of the Avengers signed up—including Captain America and the Winter Soldier.

At that point, it had only been a few weeks since Steve Rogers had brought Bucky Barnes—recently rescued from Hydra and his life as the Winter Soldier—to live in Avengers Tower. It had been a tumultuous time. After Captain America had brought down Hydra, he’d made a deal with the U.S. government to have Bucky remanded to his custody and Steve had decided to bring his childhood best friend to live in the tower. He’d figured living so close to where they grew up in Brooklyn might help his friend heal.

It had thrown the whole tower into a tizzy, though, as everyone on every floor whispered about the fact that they’d be forced to live in the same building as the Winter Soldier. Every time you heard someone say something along those lines, you’d have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. It was a large tower, most likely none of them would ever cross paths with the former Russian assassin. 

Unlike your coworkers, who gave him a wide berth, you were curious about Bucky Barnes. The first time you caught sight of him in the halls of Avengers Tower, you were struck by how handsome he was. With his long brown hair framing his face, striking blue eyes, strong stubbled jaw and perfectly soft mouth, he was so attractive butterflies took flight in your chest. As you passed by, walking the other way, you smiled at him, saying, “Good morning.”

His face remained impassive, his blue eyes sliding over your face and then away. Your heart sank a little, but it only made you more determined to get a response out of him. So every time you saw him, you’d smile and wave or offer some kind of greeting. The most you’d get was a small nod or a grunt, but that didn’t deter you, even if you didn’t think he liked you much.

When you saw he and Steve had signed up for the cherry blossom excursion, you were more than a little surprised, though you suspected it was more Steve’s doing than Bucky’s. However, then word got around that the Winter Soldier was going and quite a few people dropped out, so many you had to cut the van reservation in half, then quarters. 

But when the day arrived, some brave souls showed up to pile into the handful of vans that would take everyone to Brooklyn. You supposed it helped that Captain America and some of the other Avengers were there, but it made you a little sick to think people were still so frightened of Bucky. All he’d done since arriving at the tower was hole up in his room and walk quietly to the kitchen for meals or the gym to work out. He may not be friendly, but he was far from the monster everyone seemed to paint him as.

Once the vans arrived at the botanic garden, everyone flooded out and rushed ahead to the cherry blossom esplanade. Steve got caught up in the tide and was whisked away. Before following everyone else, you looked around and caught Bucky lingering by the vans, like he was hesitant to go ahead. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his dark jeans, his shoulders hunched in the white t-shirt he wore. He was the picture of uncomfortable and you were sure, if it hadn’t been so hot out that day, he’d be wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm.

Not wanting to leave him behind, you walked up to Bucky and gave him your best winning smile. “Will you walk with me to the cherry blossoms?” you asked in a sweet voice. You were trying not to get your hopes up in case he rebuffed you, but you couldn’t fully tamp down the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

The corners of  Bucky’s mouth turned down in a slight frown as he stared at you, his face a blank mask of indifference. His jaw worked like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded.

As you joined the crush of people heading down the wide paths following signs to the cherry blossoms, you wrapped a hand lightly around Bucky’s metal arm, not wanting to get separated. It was your first time at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden—hell, it was your first time in Brooklyn—and you didn’t want to wind up stranded alone in an unfamiliar place. You were pretty sure you’d be able to find your way back if you needed to, but it was just easier to hold on to Bucky so you didn’t get separated.

Bucky must’ve felt your touch because he turned and gave your hand a sharp look, like it had personally offended him. Instantly, you let go.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, stumbling over your feet a little as you tried to keep up with his long strides. You’d worn a long, flowy sundress and the skirts kept getting tangled in your legs, but you kept pace with Bucky as best you could. “I don’t want to get lost,” you admitted, looking up and finding him watching you out of the corner of his eye.

Bucky’s brows were lowered over his eyes, which looked bright in the sunlight, reflecting the cloudless blue sky. Without a word of response, he jutted his elbow out in offer. You didn’t hesitate to take him up on it, wrapping both your hands around the cool metal of his bicep and sticking close to him as he wove through the crowd.

It was a beautiful spring day, even if it verged on being a little too warm, and it seemed everyone in the city had descended on the botanic garden to see the cherry blossoms. There were families picnicking in the grassy fields, friends chatting as they walked, children screaming while they played together and more than one group doing low-key photoshoots with the beautiful flowering trees. You took it all in, relishing the day away from Avengers Tower.

When you and Bucky reached the cherry blossom esplanade, your feet tripped to a stop and you sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out softly in a wondrous sigh as you took in the gorgeous scene. The photos you’d seen didn’t do it justice. Rows of cherry blossom trees extended as far as you could see down a narrow grassy field. They were in such full bloom that the entire area was shaded. Even from a little ways away, it smelled delightful, so fresh and pretty. The sight was, dare you say it, a little big magical.

Bucky had felt the tug on his arm when you’d stopped and he’d paused beside you, taking in the scene in his own way. When you glanced at him and found his eyes were slightly narrowed while he surveyed the area, you knew exactly what he was doing. You’d been around the Avengers long enough to know he wasn’t really seeing the beauty of the cherry blossoms. He was scanning the immediate vicinity for possible threats and the fastest escape route.

Gently, you tugged on Bucky’s arm to get his attention and pressed closer to him so you could keep your voice low. When he looked at you, you smiled softly. “The cherry blossoms are pretty, aren’t they?” you asked, an unsubtle prompt in your tone.

Looking at the trees briefly, Bucky indulged you before glancing back and giving a noncommittal grunt. You giggled and shook your head at him in a good-naturedly exasperated way. You used your grip on his arm to tow him toward the esplanade and you fell into step together as you walked slowly through the trees.

Every once in a while, you stole glances at Bucky. More often than not, he was looking anywhere but the cherry blossoms, but on more than one occasion, you caught him looking at you. It was enough to have an ever-present rabble of butterflies flurrying in your stomach and a pleasant heat settling into your cheeks. Thankfully, you could chalk that up to the sun, if anyone were to ask. Which they wouldn’t since you hadn’t seen anyone else from your Avengers Tower group since you’d all exited the vans.

While you walked, you watched the people around you just as much as you admired the trees. There were a number of couples walking down the esplanade or the paths on either side. It made you wonder if people thought you and Bucky were a couple. The idea made you happier than you wanted to admit to yourself, especially since Bucky only seemed to tolerate your company. You could admit you were having a good time strolling along with him. He was quiet, but his company made you feel safe and relaxed in a way you didn’t often find with others.

When you reached the end of the esplanade, Bucky seemed to know what you wanted and smoothly turned you around to begin walking back the way you’d come. After a few minutes of walking slowly through the cherry blossom trees, you noticed a spot that would be a nice place to take a photo. You tugged on Bucky’s arm until he followed you. Getting out your phone, you asked Bucky to take your photo and he grudgingly nodded. You walked a few feet away to pose, smiling as Bucky took pictures until you figured you’d gotten enough. 

As you made your way back to Bucky, though, you spotted a family of four that stood out from the happy, relaxed crowd. They were walking hurriedly toward Bucky from another direction and something about the look in the father’s face didn’t sit well in your stomach. 

You hurried back to Bucky, taking your phone from him without looking at the photos he’d taken. You’d only just managed to slip it into your purse when the father of the family grabbed Bucky’s shoulder and jerked on it, trying to get his attention. You saw red.

“Get your hand off him,” you snarled, pushing around Bucky and stepping between him and the man. The stranger was taller than you, but you stared him down furiously. You didn’t know what the man wanted, but you were sure it wasn’t anything good.

“He shouldn’t be here,” the man shouted in your face, glaring angrily over your shoulder at Bucky. The mother stood just behind the man, holding one of her kids in her arms, the other clinging to her legs. The children looked scared, but it had nothing on the wildly irrational fear in the eyes of the parents. “I saw him on the news, he’s some Russian war criminal—he’s a monster!”

“He is not a monster,” you yelled right back. You knew you were causing a scene and other people in the garden were starting to stare, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were sick to death of seeing Bucky being treated like less than human, and it all came bubbling out at the worst possible moment. “Leave us alone!”

The man ignored you, trying to push past and get to Bucky, but you reached up and shoved him back, almost sending him careening into his family. They got out of the way just in time, but the man stumbled, blood rushing to his face and making him look like a livid tomato. It would be funny if not for the way he was raising his hand like he was going to hit you in retaliation.

Before you could even flinch, a warm wall of muscle pressed to your back and a metal arm wrapped around your waist, moving you out of reach of the man in the blink of an eye. “Don’t touch her,” Bucky growled, quiet enough you were sure no one but you and the man heard him. There was so much vicious warning his tone, even you were shivering a little from the threat of unleashed violence. But it was quickly overshadowed as something else, something warm, surged in your chest at the knowledge of Bucky defending you. Despite the situation, you had to bite your lip against a goofy smile.

Meanwhile, the color drained from the man’s face as he took in the Winter Soldier at your back, protecting you just as you’d protected him moments before. You knew Bucky was a formidable sight—six foot of thick muscle, a glare that could make even the bravest man cower, and a metal arm that could easily crush bones. He’d never inspired fear in you, but terror was all you saw in the man’s eyes. He dropped his hand. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” the stranger said again. Though he tried to make it threatening, he sounded so much like a petulant child, you almost snickered.

“He has as much right to be here as you do,” you shot back, pushing against Bucky’s arm still wrapped around your waist, but he held you firm. Instead, you looked at the man’s family, who all looked uncomfortable and a little bit scared. The stranger couldn’t look at them, not after he’d been so thoroughly humbled. “If you’re so scared, why don’t you take your family and leave.”

The man huffed and puffed, but you all knew it was just a show. He finally grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her away, the child that had been clinging to her leg lingering behind. “I like your dress,” she said to you in a hushed whisper. The little girl’s eyes moved to Bucky. “And your metal arm.” Before you could respond, the father called out and the child went running back to her family. 

When you turned to Bucky, you found his gaze following the man, as if making sure he didn’t circle back around and return for another attack. Calmly, you led Bucky away from the central area of the esplanade, finding a relatively secluded spot amongst the trees. Even after you stopped, though, Bucky’s eyes didn’t look at you. They were only focused on your surroundings, like he was preparing for someone else to accost you both, so you reached up and gently cupped his face in your hands. 

“Hey,” you said softly, willing him to look at you. His brown hair was falling in his eyes so you pushed it out of the way with soothing fingers. When Bucky finally looked at you, you smiled reassuringly. “It’s ok, you’re ok—we’re ok.”

Bucky’s jaw worked like he was chewing gravel, the muscle popping so violently you worried for his teeth. You didn’t expect him to say anything, but he did. “That man… he would’ve hurt you.”

Your heart squeezed at the sight of Bucky looking so pained by the thought and you brushed your thumbs over his stubbled cheeks, still trying to soothe and comfort him. “But he didn’t—you stopped him,” you said firmly, reminding Bucky of the good he’d done.

His jaw worked again and you realized it was what he did while he figured out what he wanted to say. After a long pause, he spoke again. “He called me a… monster.”

“You’re not,” you said without hesitation. Bucky’s expression collapsed into a look of pain and your heart broke at the sight. It was clear he didn’t believe you. “You’re not a monster.” Your voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. Stepping closer, you held Bucky’s gaze so he could see the honesty in your expression. “You have every right to be here,” you went on, repeating what you’d said to the man, knowing Bucky needed to hear it. “You have every right to live your life in peace.”

Somehow, hearing the words made Bucky look even more tortured, but before you could do anything else, he wrapped his arms around you. He gathered you into his chest, hugging you tightly and hunching his shoulders as he draped his big body over your smaller form. He took deep, ragged breaths, like he was holding himself back from sobbing. 

You squeezed him tightly, your arms around Bucky’s shoulders as you held him and comforted him while he let out the emotions he was feeling. Your hands rubbed soothingly up and down his back and you made soft, comforting sounds, telling him everything was going to be ok. Gradually, he seemed to calm.

When Bucky pulled away, his expression seemed lighter, even though you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly had changed. Perhaps his mouth wasn’t set so firmly in a frown or his blue eyes looked a little less haunted. Whatever it was, it felt like a miracle.

“Want to go back to the vans and wait for the others?” you asked, smiling softly. He nodded then held his arm out to you and you took it happily, clinging to the cool metal as you strolled back through the cherry blossoms. 

Together, you headed back to the vans and climbed inside. Bucky insisted you get in first before crowding you into the corner of the backseat. You suspected him putting himself between you and the door was intentional, but you didn’t mind his protective instincts in the slightest. It felt wonderful to be looked after like that.

Late in the afternoon, Steve opened the door of the van, startling you awake. You didn’t know when it had happened, but you’d fallen asleep against Bucky’s shoulder—and he’d let you.

“Hey Buck,” Steve said cheerfully. He noticed you a moment later, half hidden behind Bucky’s big frame, and greeted you as well. The blond collapsed onto the seat in front of you, his blue eyes—so close in shade to Bucky’s—taking in the minimal space between you and his best friend. Heat spread to your cheeks, but Steve didn’t comment. He only looked at Bucky and said, “You got something in your hair.”

Bucky turned to you and sure enough, he had a cherry blossom petal tangled in his brown hair. You plucked it free and  held it in your palm to show him, laughing a little. “A memory of our first time seeing the cherry blossoms,” you joked.

But when you glanced at Bucky’s face, he wore a serious expression. Gently—so gently it made your heart thump happily in your chest—Bucky folded your hand closed over the petal. His blue eyes were soft as he stared at you, emotion swimming to the surface of his blue gaze. “Save it,” he murmured in a quiet, husky voice.

In that moment, you knew the day had been as special to Bucky as it had been to you. It was plain in the earnestness of his eyes and the tone of his voice. The butterflies in your stomach returned in full force and you had to admit to yourself that you had a serious crush on the Winter Soldier. It was ok, though, because he seemed to like you back.

After a beat of silence, you finally got your lips to work. “I will,” you said on a stunned exhale. 

The corners of Bucky’s mouth tipped up. It was the first time you’d ever seen him smile and all you could do was stare. You’d already thought he was handsome, but a smiling Bucky Barnes was devastating. The butterflies took flight in your stomach and your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Bucky’s smile was a sight as wondrous and beautiful as the botanic garden’s cherry blossom esplanade and you couldn’t help but feel overjoyed he’d trusted you with it.

The moment ended as others started to get in the van, clamoring inside noisily and chatting about the botanic garden. Bucky let his face slacken, his expression returning to its dull, blank state, but you knew you wouldn’t forget what it looked like to see him smile. Already, you couldn’t wait to see Bucky’s smile again, hoping he’d show it to you again soon. 

When you looked forward, you caught Steve staring at you unabashedly, shock on his face. You weren’t sure what surprised him more, Bucky talking to anyone else besides him, or Bucky smiling—which you weren’t sure even Steve had seen since reuniting with his best friend. 

You were certain your own surprise was written across your face and when Steve raised his eyebrows in a silent question, all you could do was shrug and shake your head. The blond’s gaze swung back and forth between you and Bucky before he finally nodded at you, genuine happiness in his eyes. You smiled at him, the two of you sharing a moment and bonding over how much you both cared for Bucky, then he turned to the front to settle in for the ride back to Manhattan.

If Bucky noticed the silent conversation that had passed between you and Steve, he didn’t show it. He was looking out the window as the van pulled away from the botanic garden. You cuddled into his side, laying your head on his shoulder, clutching the cherry blossom petal loosely in your hand so you didn’t lose it, but you didn’t crush it either. Bucky threaded his fingers gently through your free hand, holding it on his thigh. 

When you’d planned the trip to see the cherry blossoms, you’d been hoping for something magical. You’d wanted to see something beautiful and straight out of a fairytale. What you got was so much more special, and all the better for it. You’d learned you were someone the Winter Soldier wanted to protect, and you’d discovered a softer side of the former Russian assassin. Most spectacularly, you’d gotten your first look at Bucky Barnes’ smile.

As you held Bucky’s hand and reflected on your day together, you were certain of one thing—cherry blossoms must be magic. 

#it is cherry blossom season!! #everybody please go read this it is so wonderful and good please thank you #rereadathon