#Steve Rogers x Black Female Reader

[syntheticavenger]

Redemption - Ten

It's been a year since I wrote anything for Redemption. We've seen Ransom's struggles but this is probably the most honest look at the Reader's feelings thus far.

Definitely teared up writing some pieces so you may want to get some tissues! Labrinth's "I'm Tired" was inspiration for this chapter.

Redemption Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Heavy angst, language, emotional breakdown, mentions of past cheating, fainting, mentions of past drug use.

Summary | Ransom Drysdale thought you made a clean break from him after your failed marriage. After a run in at a coffee shop, it appears that it wasn’t as easy as he thought.

There’s a handful of times Ransom has been a praying man.

Once to get clean, staring at his reflection in the mirror after a particularly hard night, nostrils bright red and dark circles underneath his eyes, his mouth feeling like it was packed with cotton. He’d lost count of how many days since he had gone on a binge, empty liquor bottles strewn across the hotel bathroom floor. He’d prayed hard that morning, gripping the sink, fighting to remember what to say to whatever higher power would listen.

Another time to bring you back home, his fingers pressing against the fabric of his pants when he was sitting in the parking lot of your job. The vivid scene of your chest rising and falling, the soft whimper of your distress when he’d tried to calm you down from another letdown, another egregious sin that he had committed against you. You could smell the unnamed woman on him, lamenting that you would never measure up to whatever he was chasing, even as he lied to you and told you that you were enough. He’d prayed hard for the guidance for you to come home, to be enough to help him fight his demons.

A feverish prayer of gratitude when he finally woke from what seemed like years of sleep, only to find out he was under tubes, ventilators and the watchful eye of a team of doctors who were watching his every move.

Making a deal with whoever would listen when he first saw the twins. He didn’t pray for sleep that night after he saw them, replaying Leah’s wide-eyed wonder at the man who stood behind her and his son who had a touch of cynicism about him, even at his young age. He’d prayed that his children wouldn’t grow up like him, bored of a life that he didn’t take advantage of, turning to the vices that made him the shell of who he had become before he had come into their lives.

His solace isn’t a church. 

Not now, anyway, not with the shadows that creep into his mind that could lead him to think the worst of himself and the pathway to feeling better is one that could find him on the precipice of a relapse.

His place of refuge is a coffee shop, his pastor a man a burly man with a beard and kind eyes.

“California isn’t a short trip,” Ari quips, pouting a dash of creamer into his coffee mug. “I assume it was a mutual decision?”

“Sure,” Ransom answers, watching the condensation on his glass of water form into droplets that slide down and onto the coaster. “ I didn’t have much of an excuse to say no, you can’t let my children go across the country to Disneyland.”

“It’s more than that.”

Ransom shrugs, trying to ignore the needling feeling that he should admit how he feels, especially to his sponsor.

“Go on.”

Ransom hates the way Ari can make a conversation seem so simple.

“Makes it real, I guess. She and Steve are getting pretty serious.”

“Sounds like.”

“But that didn’t stop her from letting me come over the night prior.”

“Ransom,” Ari sighs. “In what context are we talking about?”

“There was a lot of emotion.”

“I’m sure there was,” Ari agrees. “But that’s not what I asked. Did you sleep together?”

“No,” Ransom rushes out, his face hot with embarrassment. “But does that matter?”

“It does when you want me to think that you had some emotional, physical aspect to you going over to her apartment. It means you’re still not looking at the truth. I appreciate the candid conversation but let’s be honest here, you could have told her no, that the agreement is that the kids stay local. You didn’t do that. Why?”

“If I said no,” Ransom begins, twisting around his signet ring. “She would have asked why and I didn’t have an answer. I can’t tell her that I’m jealous that she’s seeing another man that isn’t me. We’ve had some nice moments. Doesn’t feel like I should fuck that up by telling her she can’t live her life.”

Ari nods in agreement, Ransom blowing out a hard breath.

“Happy?”

“No,” Ari denies. “Are you?”

“I feel like shit. More than anything, I want to call her, I want to talk to the kids, but I don’t know if they landed and -”

“You know they landed. I saw the flight tracker on your phone. Be honest with me, Ransom. This is a safe space, I’m not here to judge. Unless of course, you want to continue blowing smoke up my ass.”

“I fucked up,” Ransom says quietly, reaching for his coffee cup. “That’s all I can say. Sometimes, I’ll dream about her, and the kids and it feels so goddamn real and then I wake up and it’s…”

He exhales a shaky breath.

“If I have to do this every day for the rest of my life, then I will because it means I still see another day and I get a chance to be around my kids. But I’d be lying if I said waking up from that dream doesn’t fucking hurt every time,” he finishes, trying to will away the tears that well up in his eyes.

“You’re going to get through this. I don’t know where the cards lie for you and her, Ransom, I can’t see the future. But what I do see, is someone who is taking his sobriety seriously and is a loving father to his kids. That part isn’t a dream. That’s real.”

“Yeah.”

Ari leans forward, placing his hand over Ransom’s. It shouldn’t matter but Ransom lowers his head, holding back the tears.

“It’s okay not to be okay, Ransom. We’re our worst enemies sometimes. Be a friend to yourself for once. You deserve that.”

-

Leah and Carter sleep side by side, the other bed untouched while you take them in. The hotel suite is massive, almost the same size as your apartment. It had been too quiet after a while, hearing them play before their voices had faded out. 

When they babies, you used to have to place them side by side, each one reaching out for the other until they made contact. Usually it was arm and arm, a confirmation that the other was present, both waking up when you moved them to a more comfortable position. While too young to know what jetlag is, you know their signs of their exhaustion well, covering them up with a blanket after kissing their foreheads.

The sun is a hazy pink and purple from the balcony, the breeze rushing against your skin as you close your eyes. Miles away and you’re still yearning for something, nameless and indescribable, even if you’re in a Southern California paradise.

 “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve says behind you, stepping outside.

“It is,” you agree. “The view is pretty.”

“I meant you, but I’ll agree to that,” Steve says, wrapping his arms around you, your back against his chest. “Are you happy you came?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, reaching up to bring him closer. “I’m still trying to process that I’m away from… everything.”

“Doesn’t happen often, I know,” Steve says, kissing your cheek. “But you and the kids deserve a break. It’s been a lot of learnings, a lot of big emotions for the kids.”

Me too, you think.

“Tomorrow I’ll be gone for the majority of the day, but you and the kids are more than welcome to explore, and I can have a car take you wherever you want to go. I get about an hour for lunch if you want to come down and hear all about the advancements in pediatric medicine.”

“Lunch sounds nice.”

“Really?” Steve sounds happily surprised, your face turning toward his. “Then, it’s a date.”

“Thank you for this,” you reply, brushing a stand of his hair off his forehead. “We needed this.”

“We all did,” Steve agrees, leaning forward when he kisses you gently, your fingers going to the collar of his shirt as you pull him closer.

-

An unexpected cold snap takes hold in Anaheim, the temperature dropping at least fifteen degrees that catches you off guard, Carter slightly shivering when he runs back inside, declaring that is too cold.

The layers of clothing work well to keep them comfortable, both of their hands in yours while they tell you what they plan to do when they finally reach their coveted destination of the theme parks that they’ve been watching non-stop. If you follow their plans, you won’t have a single moment to sit down or eat but you listen carefully, asking them questions that they have answers for, delighted that you agree with their choices.

The convention center is massive, following signs that point in the direction of where they are supposed to go. The twins wave and say hello to everyone they meet, asking for a treat when they see a doctor who looks like their former pediatrician, who pats her pockets before apologizing and waving goodbye to them.

In the crowd of people, Carter and Leah spy Steve before you go, letting go of your hands and running full speed, despite your pleas for them to slow down.

You catch up to them right when they are lifted into Steve’s arms, giggling when you see the other person standing next to him, smiling at the twins. She’s immaculately put together, right down to the designer bag that is slung over her shoulder, her hair freshly done and makeup applied flawlessly.

“Hi,” Steve says, giving you a quick kiss before motioning to the person next to him. “You’re right on time. Let me introduce you to Doctor Sharon Carter, she and I used to be colleagues back when I worked in Brooklyn. Sharon, this is my -”

“Nice to meet you,” Sharon greets you, extending her hand to yours as you shake it. “I had no idea that Steve had a whole family.”

“Oh, I -” you try to interrupt.

“This is Leah and Carter,” Steve says, the twins squirming out of his arms as they slide back down to the ground.

“Yours?” Sharon asks.

“Maybe one day,” Steve answers. 

“Interesting. Cute kids you have. Have a good lunch,” Sharon says, turning to Steve. “Don’t forget where we���re sitting. Then there’s happy hour at the end of all the madness.”

“Sure,” Steve replies, taking your hand, not seeing when you look back at Sharon, the twins grabbing your hand and Steve’s.

“See you there!”

-

Steve’s cell buzzes on the table, his expression apologetic when he finally answers a text.

“Sharon?” you ask, glancing at the twins coloring outside of the lines, Carter holding onto a chicken tender while he selects another crayon.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his brow furrowing when he dials her number. “I’ll be right back.”

Getting up from his chair, you can hear his voice lower.

“I’m at lunch, what’s going on?” he asks, maneuvering around the tables, his voice fading amid the sounds of utensils against plates and loud chatter.

Trying to ignore the pit that is spreading in your belly, you focus on the twins, Leah chewing on a French fry while Carter dips his chicken into the big cup of ranch. You want to eat, your stomach grumbling as you had skipped breakfast to make sure that the twins were fed and now you’re paying for it, feeling lightheaded for a moment before shaking the feeling away.

The insecurity sneaks in without warning. The perfect hair Sharon has that you know you will never achieve, let alone sitting that long at a salon without any interruption, to the expensive tailored outfit that you know you would never fit into after childbirth renders you speechless at how quickly the comparisons have come, a flashback to when you found out Ransom had been in the company of one of your bridesmaids, blond and coiffed like Sharon.

But she wasn’t Sharon and Sharon isn’t her, the mantra repeating over and over in your mind.

She isn’t going to sleep with Steve. She isn’t going to lie right to your face when you confront her like your former friend did.

But you don't know that for sure, even if you trust Steve.

Questions float up to the surface of your thoughts. Why didn’t Sharon know about you? Was she supposed to?

None of the feelings that begin to rise are rational, trying to keep yourself calm when Leah and Carter begin to argue over their favorite crayon, their voices getting louder before you look down at the mess of food and broken crayons.

“What happened?” Steve interrupting your thoughts, leaning down between the twins, reaching for a napkin to clean up the spilled water.

“I… I don’t know,” you answer, getting up from your chair, scooping up the broken crayons into a napkin, moving quickly to tidy up the space.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, the twins back to normal, as if they didn’t have a category three argument.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, a waitress coming by with two sets of crayons to assuage any arguments. “Just a little blow up.”

“Not them,” he says quietly, sitting back down next to you. “Are you okay?”

His phone buzzes once more, your nerves getting to you. He makes no motion to answer it, even as you can hear it in his suit pocket.

“Do you want to answer that?”

“No,” Steve tells you. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, suddenly irritated that he won’t answer it. “If it’s Sharon, you can just answer it.”

“It is,” Steve agrees. “But it can wait.”

“No, go ahead and answer it,” you answer, trying to calm yourself down. “It keeps going off so just… answer it.”

“Did I miss something?”

“You didn’t get any texts from her until today and now…” you trail off, seeing Steve’s confused expression as you fight back tears. “Forget it. Leah? Carter? There’s a playground a little bit from here and they have swings. Do you want to go?”

The twins perk up, the crayons rolling around the table as Steve blinks in confusion.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m going to take them to the park.”

“We’re eating lunch. I don’t understand,” Steve tries, watching you get up. “Can you just tell me what happened?”

“She’s asking me about the surprise symposium we’re supposed to be doing,” Steve informs you, pulling out his phone. “I can show you the texts.”

“No, you don’t have to,” you reply softly, digging through your purse, tears welling in your eyes.

That’s how it started, you recall bitterly, placing money on the table. The friendly texts, the questions that Ransom would answer. You always were offered those to read and pour over, even when you declined.

It was the others that you weren’t allowed to see.

“We will talk about this when you’ve processed things and I’m in a better headspace,” Steve says, leaning toward you so that only you can hear. “I’ll see you later.”

The kids wave goodbye, Leah carefully looking up at you as she pouts.

“Mommy, don’t cry,” Leah pleads, your head lowering to see her sweet little face. “What did we do?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Mommy just needs some fresh air, I promise. It’s so warm,” you lie, fanning yourself as Carter follows suit near your face. “I’ll be fine once we get outside.”

“Go faster!” Carter chimes in, Leah pulling you toward the door. “Bye Steve!”

-

“You and Sharon did a fantastic job with such short notice,” Sharon’s husband praises. “I mean it, I just was blown away at how you can take such a hard subject and turn it into a masterclass.”

“Only a little frustrating,” Sharon admits, giving Steve a slight jab on his arm with her elbow. “Sorry you had to deal with all my texts with my edits. The minute Doctor Erskine asked where you went, I knew it was something big. I’m so sorry I panicked.”

“It’s fine,” Steve assures her. “We figured it out and with any luck, Doctor Erskine will realize he doesn’t want me up there talking for an hour and a half straight.”

“Where’s your,” Sharon pauses, sheepishly looking at him. “Girlfriend? Wife?”

“She’s at the hotel with the kids.”

“Scratch that happy hour then, I thought you brought her. Go be with them. You know how these happy hours are. All the booze and none of the networking. Whatever they are to you, those kids are adorable. You’re lucky to have all of them, Steve.”

“Thanks, Sharon. I definitely am.”

Giving her and her husband a nod, he slips out the restaurant, looking down at his phone for any sign of a missed call from you, sighing when he realizes there is none.

-

The twins are in their separate beds, freshly bathed and in their favorite pajamas, unaware of the tears that stream down your face.

The cuffs of your sweatshirt are wrinkled from the amount of pulling and twisting through your fingers, guilt ridden stimuli taking over. Your throat aches with the need to shout, to scream your frustrations out to the night. The pent up rage, both at yourself and the past looks you in the face when you finally turn on the light, the mirror in the bathroom a reflection of someone you don’t recognize. 

Gripping the sides of the sink and lowering your head, you begin to pray, lips moving so fast that you can’t the words out fast enough. Your tears a sacrament that drop into the sink when you bare your teeth at your transgressions, wishing that whatever higher power would give you a chance at peace. To lighten the burden you’ve carried and to give yourself grace. 

Embarrassment takes hold, your body shuddering at the thought of how you acted, the way Leah’s gaze was solely on you and your tears. You don’t know how many times she’s seen you cry, and the thought only makes you pray harder, to hide your emotions from your beloved children so that they will never know the fight you continue to endure.

Exhaustion finally wins out, your knees buckling when you siip down onto the floor, eyes closing in defeat.

#ransom drysdale fic #andy barber fic #steve rogers fic #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x black female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x black female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers #… See all

[dyinglikenarcissus]

Staying Home

Steve’s best girl has been sick before but not like this. He’s determined to be the best stay at home doctor boyfriend he can be.

Thank you so much @longingstormysoul for the inspiration. It’s not exactly what you requested but I had the flu and I kind of weaved this story into that.

Warnings: None really. Just fluff and stuff but this blog it still 18+. No funny business

Plagiarism isn’t cute. Don’t do it.

Like, comments, and reblogs are all appreciated 😊

Master List

You wake up feeling a slight chill run through your body. You snuggle closer to you personal heater and pull the sheets up to your nose. You swallow and know that the flu season has finally gotten to you. You try to take a breath and find your nose hopelessly stuffed. You attempt it again and are thrown into a coughing fit.

“You okay, princess?” You hear Steve’s sleepy voice mutter from behind you, rubbing a hand down your side.

You sit up and take a sip of your water bottle you kept by the bed. You attempt to sooth your burning throat but it doesn’t help as it brings on another coughing fit.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” Steve asks again sitting up to rub your back.

“I think I’m coming down with something,” you wheeze, trying not to talk too loudly.

“Oh, princess. Come here,” Steve coos and presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “You’re warmer than normal,” he muses.

“But I feel so cold,” you whisper, pulling the blankets to your chest.

“Yup. Definitely a fever. Do you have any cold medicine?” You nod and attempt to get out of bed. “I’ll get it,” Steve assures you and presses you back down.

“It’s in that cabinet,” you sniffle and cough before continuing, “in the corner by the sink.

The upper one.”

“Got it. You sit tight and bundle up,” orders.

You’ve never been one to follow orders.

You slide out of bed to use the restroom and brush your teeth.

Steve steps into the bathroom and appears in the mirrors reflection after you spit out your toothpaste.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in bed?” There’s a playful smirk on his face as he watches you through the mirror.

“I’m not the soldier in this relationship,” you whisper. You think the vibrations from your toothbrush loosened the congestion in your nose but your throat was still on fire.

“When you finish up, I made you some hot tea then I’ll take your breakfast order.”

“You’re gonna cook?” You chuckle and rub some face wash against your skin. Your boyfriend is good at almost everything. Cooking is not one of those things.

He grins at your words. “Panera’s a block away. Whatever soup you want. Sandwich. They have flat breads now. Apple for breakfast, chips for lunch, baguette for dinner.” You can’t help but giggle at his notion but you’ve gone days only eating at Panera before. Sadly.

A day of Panera sounded amazing.

“And I made you a virtual doctors appointment. They’ll call in an hour. Just wanna make sure I don’t have to go on a murderous rampage to find a cure for the love of my life.” You giggle and it turns into another coughing fit.

“You’d go on a murderous rampage for me?” You smile once you regain your voice.

“Well…Bucky and Loki would. I’d go along to keep them in line.”

You smile at his words. “Thor can’t even keep Loki in line. What makes your think you can?”

“Hey! Who kicked Hitler’s ass across the continental US?” You shake your head and try not to laugh to hold back the coughs. “You done making yourself look beautiful? Get back in bed, princess.”

“Beautiful?” You huff, looking yourself over. You felt anything but beautiful but you’d take it.

You slink back into the bed with Steve on your heels. He tucks you in before sitting on the edge of the bed to take you meal order. It may be breakfast time but some chicken noodle soup sounded amazing. Stevie did say to order for the day…

You giggle at the array of items in your cart by the time you pass Steve’s phone back to him.

“Soup, salad, a whole baguette, a kitchen sink cookie? What is that?”

“It’s got everything but the kitchen sink,” you smile. They normally sell out at lunch so you’re staking your claim early. “What are you getting?”

“Breakfast sandwich, turkey sandwich, ham sandwich,” Steve recounts. “And I’m getting one of these cookies, too.” You smile and Steve presses a kiss to your forehead. “Take some meds, princess. And get some sleep. I’ll be back before you know it.” You nod and obey his direction as he walks out of the bedroom and the apartment. You sip you tea and scroll through your phone for a minute before the NyQuil kicks in and knocks you out.

You wake up to Steve hot body wrapped around you as he dozes, spooning you comfortably on the couch. At least it would’ve been comfortable. You would’ve normally loved it.

You felt completely stifled.

“Stevie, too hot,” you whine and attempt to press away from him.

He groans and stretches before muttering a soft “What’s wrong?”

“You’re too hot,” you whimper trying to struggle out of the throw blanket.

“Calm down. I’ll help you.” He untangles you and tosses the blanket to the chairs. “Better?”

You hum positively.

He sighs and you hear music playing from the TV. “We fell asleep?” You ask as you crack your eyes open to see the credits playing from the movie you were watching.

“You’ve seen Avatar enough times to know all the lines. We didn’t miss much.” You hear the smile in Steve’s voice as he rubs your stomach softly.

You giggle and sing along to I See You with your croaky sick voice. Steve laughs and rolls on to his back. Well, as much as he can on the crowded couch.

“How you feeling, princess?”

You yawn and nod. “A little better. I’m enjoying just being home with you. Sucks I have to be sick.”

“I’m enjoying the vacation,” Steve yawns. “What are we watching next?” He goes back to the Disney+ menu to scroll through your recommendations.

“The Orville! Or Miraculous Ladybug! Are there new Miraculous episodes?”

Steve chuckles. “Let’s check. Shit, looks like they uploaded the rest of season 5.”

“Run it, Cap!” You grin.

“Popcorn?”

You nod and get up to go to the kitchen.

“Take some cough medicine while you’re up,” Steve instructs.

You sigh and but follow his orders. You were getting better under Dr. Rogers supervision so you couldn’t knock him. You just had a bad cough and a migraine that wouldn’t go away no matter what medication you took. But all your other symptoms cleared up in a couple of days.

He had to be doing something right.

You toss a bag of popcorn in the microwave and look through the pile of pills for your cough meds.

You grab two bottles of water and deposit them on the coffee table when there’s a knock at the door.

“Who’s that?” Steve mutters narrowing his eyes.

“Maybe Amazon?” You shrug. You start to walk over to get it but Steve easily over takes you.

Doesn’t stop you from peaking around him to see who it is.

It’s just Bucky.

“What are you doing here?” Steve greets.

Of course he’d be the only one brave enough to come visit when you’re this sick. Super soldier immune systems are no joke.

“Just came to check on you two,” Bucky grins as Steve lets him in.

“Hey, Buck,” you smile. He pulls you into a hug and presses a kiss to your forehead. It was his standard greeting for you. It always felt so warm and comfortable.

“Sorry for the mess,” you whisper.

“You’re sick, doll. Don’t apologize,” he sighs and follows Steve to the living room.

“How’s it going? Getting any better?”

“From when I first got sick, way better,” you smile.

“She still has a bad cough and gets random fevers,” Steve sighs, pulling you into his lap after you bring back a bowl of popcorn. “But one day at a time.” You nod and snuggle into his embrace.

“You two will never stop being disgusting,” Bucky sighs watching you as he falls into the arm chair. “As much as I love you, I didn’t come by just to check on you, doll face. Stevie. Wanna go to Istanbul?”

“No,” Steve states firmly.

“Nat’s in Brazil and Sam’s in California. I don’t have back up.”

“You can’t throw a stick without hitting a super powered being. Go find one of them.”

“Steve, are you seriously saying no?”

“Yes.” Steve states resolutely. “My best girl is sick. I’m not leaving her like this.”

“Stevie, I’m feeling much better. You don’t have to stay behind because of me-“

“No, princess. Buck. I’m retired. Which means I don’t have to work if I don’t want to. I love you, you know I do, but I don’t want to go. I want to stay right here and take care of my princess. Any other time, I’d suit up but right now, she needs me.”

Bucky looks between you and Steve. “Okay,” Bucky says simply.

“Okay?” Steve asks, leaning back on the couch and pulling you along like a security blanket. Bucky would say whatever he wants to Steve but he watches his language around you.

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll ask Okoye or track down that Moon Knight fellow. He hangs out in the Middle East sometimes.”

“You have so many options,” Steve smiles. “I have to draw a line somewhere.”

“Or we’ll just keep dragging you out and it’ll be like you never stopped,” Bucky sighs, leaning back in the recliner.

“When are you leaving?”

“Couple of days.”

“Then you can watch a couple of episodes with us. Want some popcorn?” Steve pushes the bowl closer to his best friend.

Bucky stayed for a few hours, took a nap, ate dinner, then said goodnight.

You turned on Steve the second the door closed. “You don’t have to stay behind because of me.”

“I’m not doing it because of you. I’m doing it because I love you and I don’t want to leave you alone while you’re sick. I’m going to marry you one day and that’s part of the vows, isn’t it?” He smirks and you’re sure your fever came back because you suddenly feels faint.

The two of you didn’t talk about marriage often but when you did, you alway felt flushed and flustered.

“Come on, my little princess. Let’s get to bed early. You’ve had an eventful day.” He scoops you up by the backs of your thighs and carries you to the bathroom to wash up for bed. You both brush your teeth and shower together, just like you’ve done all week.

And you end it all curled up in Steve’s strong arms. You’re quickly getting used to this.

“I like having you home,” you sigh as he holds you against him.

“I like being home. I could really get used to this.”

“This is what retirement actually looks like, baby,” you smile.

“I think I might actually do it one day.” You hear the smile in Steve’s voice making you giggle.

“I know better. The second I start feeling better, you’ll be back out there on them streets.”

“You aren’t feeling better, are you?” Steve questions and presses you down on your back to get a better look at you. You let out a fake cough. “That’s what thought.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips and you can’t help your smile.

“One more?”

“Spoiled little princess.” But he happily obliges.

“I’m your spoiled little princess,” you remind him.

“I guess I have to keep taking care of you.”

You nod in agreement. “And keep giving me cuddles and kisses?”

“And keep giving you all the cuddles and kisses you could ever need.” He presses another kiss to your lips and pulls you back into his embrace.

You lie in his arms for a moment. “Stevie, I really am feeling much better,” you insist.

He hums softly but ignores you otherwise.

“It’s true. I barely have a cough anymore…”

“I don’t care what you have to say, I’m not leaving.” You giggle softly and snuggle into his arms.

For the first time in your almost two year relationship, he said no to saving the world. For you. You can’t keep the smile off of your face as you fall asleep in the only place you want to be: in Steve’s arms.

Master List

#Steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #Steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x female reader

[iamsofabulous]

ari’s spoiled baby princess gf ♡

reblogs are appreciated! u are allowed to use this as inspo for ur stories!

requests are open! ୨୧

#ari levinson moodboard #ari levinson #ari levison x reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x female reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers moodboard #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #chris evans moodboard #chris evans x female reader #aesthetic moodboard #spoiled!reader #steve rogers x black female reader #ari levinson x innocent!reader #ari levinson x spoiled!reader #ari levinson fluff #chris evans x wife!reader #jas’ moodboards #black!fem!reader #black!reader #chris evans x black reader #coquette #girly girl #girly!reader #girly aesthetic #dollette

[neonovember]

Redwood Oak’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

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Steve's words echo loudly in your skull like a ball being knocked around your head, turning your brain to mush. The warmth of Steve's breath that had gripped you like a vice had dissipated the second the both of you had entered the expansive room of Steve's Office.

You don't see it, but Steve clenches his jaw in tight restraint to stop himself from putting a hole in Rumlow’s head and instead envelopes himself into the stone-faced demeanor he had learnt to form the moment he stepped up to the throne destined for him.

But god, did that horrified look on yourself tear Steve from the inside out. What had he done to you? It screamed betrayal in Steve's mind, that you not only had been hurt but by one of his own men. The man who had sworn to protect you had lied. And for Steve, his word was as good as its weight in fucking gold.

Steve had to play it level headed, the heavy weight of his father's presence was always near, but it seemed to cloud his vision at this moment,

“Don’t do nuthin stupid, think, just stop for a second and think”

Steve didn't want to think, he wanted to delve deep into the darkened desire within him that preened at the idea of Rumlows blood dripping between his clenched fists. Steve’s desire for violence shocked him a little, he could feel his fist shaking under his grip, like they had a mind of their own.

Steve wasn't a violent man, he was sensible, it didn’t matter if the entire city of New York believed he was cruel, because he knew every action had a means, it wasn't just to spill blood and crack skin. Steve’s entire enterprise was never built on appearances, despite the world it lives in, nothing Steve did didn't have an objective reason. He thought that would be a light of mercy before the spray of blood would coat his button-up.

But now, there didn't seem to be any reason to wait and sit, in the end, it all seemed sensible. Any threat of danger to your life needed to be eliminated, and returned with such a display of cruelty that no one would try it again. There was a gnawing feeling, however, at the recesses and edges of Steve's mind, the kind that screamed at him to see what was truly happening.

“Look”, and Steve learnt to listen.

There was something more to Rumlow than just scaring you, something more sinister, it echoed deep within Steve and the reminder of the cruel world beneath the gravel ground was as clear as ever. Steve had to find out because now he felt that your safety was his responsibility, an obligation he felt every bone within him scream to fulfil.

“Bucky” Steve calls the brown-haired man dressed down in a black suit, the outline of a holster poking through the waist of his jacket.

Bucky murmurs something into Sam's ear, before making his way towards Steve, his gaze shifting between you and the tall blonde standing a few spaces behind you.

“Need something from me, Steve?” Bucky says, making an effort to keep his gaze towards Steve, despite Steve's gaze being situated on you.

“Take our friend here to get something to eat, and then use one of my cars to get her home”. Steve murmurs, almost discreetly so only the three of you can hear.

You noticeably fidget at the mention of going home, it wasn't that you didn't want to, you did, by all accounts, but you didn't know what you would open the door to when you did end up back at the decrepit apartment complex you loved. Your apartment wasn't necessarily known for being the most well-secured, but you figured your neighbours would at least tell you if someone had broken in and trashed the place.

Steve moves towards Bucky, turning his body to face away from your wandering gaze

“Take one of my unmarked cars, it seems we’ve got a fuckin rat in our very own house” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear, causing Bucky to turn his head to face Steve. A look passes between the both of them, their eyes conversing in a way words never could, in a way that told you they had been brothers long before this entire world fell upon their shoulders.

“Well go on then” Steve’s deep voice whispers into your ear, you can taste the heat of his hand pressing onto your waist, as you feel the outline of his revolver press into the small of your back.

“Don’t think I won’t hurt my men to protect you, I’ll kill him if I have to” Steve murmurs, he doesn’t have to say his name, but your mind has been repeating it enough to know who he's talking about, and your heart skips a beat in surprise, air catches your lungs and you have to swallow back the strange feeling brewing in your stomach before following Bucky’s pointed gaze out the office doors, several dozen eyes watching your every step.

The squeak of Bucky’s dress shoes and the click of your pump loafers follow each other down the carpet and painting-lined hallways. You sneak glances through half-open doors and you're met with similar pictures, women and men dressed in black and white staff uniform cleaning and dusting away priceless antiques, ruffling pillows and beds that were never going to be slept in, and folding the endless crisp white shirts Steve wore.

You pass a hallway that looks different to the rest, darker somehow like it was sacred. You don't see any of the endless staff coming out of any of the rooms too, and the millions of questions it springs forth have your eyes squinting to see past the 2 main opening doors.

Bucky turns a corner quickly, and without realising you bump into his back, the rock-hard muscle acting like a brick to cushion your fall. You can’t help but let out a loud yelp, before Bucky turns and catches you from falling flat on your face.

You look up at him clearly flustered, and Bucky gazes down at you in interest, he begins to murmur something but thinks better of it, and slowly lets go of his grip on your waist.

Coughing, he straightens his suit, before motioning forward

“We’re here”

“Hmh? Where is here-” You say

“Oh”

You look towards the expansive dining room, fitted with leather couches surrounding a cast stone fireplace connected to a brick stone kitchen, an iridescent chandelier hangs from the tall ceilings, looking as if diamonds were dripping from above, and the halo of a sparkle glints over the both of you and you can't help but gaze in awe.

“Gorgeous isn't it?” Bucky says, and you glance at him watching the way the chandelier cuts the sunlight so it breaks across the dining room.

It was beautiful, despite being in a room that was in a house of violence, it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

“Bucky? I thought you already emptied out my kitchen” Calls a voice from the kitchen

Bucky turns towards the voice, a smile for the first time appears on his face and he walks up with you trailing behind.

“You’re still here? I thought Steve gave you the rest of the week off?” Bucky says, and as you walk past the expansive dining room you see a woman dressed in a dirty apron, wiping down a pristine marble countertop that Bucky leans on.

Pots and pans hang from high above the centre block, glinting in a perfect steel arrangement, long panned windows filter light in from the manicured lawns and an array of shelves and creme cabinets line the kitchen. A double burner oven is situated against a grey stone wall, and low-hanging lantern lights are hung from above. David would have loved cooking in this kitchen, that is all you can fathom as you gaze across the opulent space.

You are too fazed to take notice of the conversation happening beside you, until the kind woman looks towards you, cocking her head, her hazel eyes gaze you up and down, taking notice of your strange attire.

“And who is this?”

“One of Steve’s friends came here to get her something to eat but if you're leaving, just know your kitchen is in great hands” Bucky smirks towards the woman, who shakes her head reverently.

“Oh absolutely not, he burnt soup once, goddamn soup!” The woman scolds, a frightened expression taking over her face as she widens her eyes at you.

You can't help but let out a giggle, she was nice, this woman, dark auburn hair braided into a fishtail cascades down her back, her cheeks full as her big brown eyes smile at you.

“Hey!, it was one of those artisan ones alright, screw me for trying to follow a recipe online” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes at the woman as he tries to argue his side to you

“It’s soup Bucky, you put it in a pot and let it heat up” You reply, shaking your head, the woman looks up at you swiftly, a look comes over her face and she nods.

“By your clothing, I can see you are a curator of the kitchen as well?” The woman replies

You look up at her surprised, “Oh no, I’m,-I’m just a waitress”

“Well does the waitress have a name?” She replies

You hadn't had to introduce yourself for much of your life, your name and entire identity stolen and curated by your husband until he was the one introducing you, and now, the sound of your voice feels foreign on your tongue.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, my name’s Katerina, but just because you're a friend of a friend you can call me Kat. So what would ya like darling?” She says

“Oh, no” You take notice of the recently wiped down and cleaned tabletops

“It’s alright, you've already cleaned up everything and I'm not that hungry, besides Bucky promised to show me around the Manor '' You reply, wiping a hand down to iron out the wrinkles in your work shirt.

“I did?” Bucky replies, and you turn your head, pleading with him to go along with it

“Oh yeah, um, I’ve got to get my Vitamin D you know” Bucky coughs, wincing as he digs his hands into his dress pants.

Kat looks between the both of you, a knowing smile on her face as she nods,

“Oh, I know you'll be here a while.'' She replies, before you both bid your goodbyes and head out through the French doors and onto the stone steps of the entryway of the Manor.

“You really made me lie in front of Kat? What do you think this is? You know I don’t answer to you, and Steve told me to make sure you eat something, especially since last night-” Bucky scolds, before cutting himself off at the mention of your embarrassing

“You know about last night?” You mumble, the burn of embarrassment crawls up your chest as Bucky shifts his gaze to you in guilt

“Parts alright? It was late at night when Steve found you at that bar and it was getting..I just knew I had never seen Steve so, so..” Bucky trails over, shifting his gaze from your eyes.

“So what?” You reply, Bucky was about to tell you something about Steve, specifically last night and every inch of you wanted to know what it was.

“Forget about it” Bucky replies, and you shake your head defiantly.

“No, no I won’t, ever since that day Steve walked into my diner, I’ve been doing this blindfolded dance, spinning around the truth but never being told anything” You reply, challenging Bucky.

Bucky pulls his tongue from his cheek, eyes trailing the manicured garden of the front lawn before looking down at you.

“He was silent. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back, just motionless. And I know Steve has that stone face going on, but honestly? It was like he was thinking, plotting something in that mind of his, and he didn't stop until you were taken to your room and tucked in, hell he didn't stop until we both walked into those office doors”.

You look down at your hands, twirling the old copper band around your index. Thinking? Thinking? You didn't have a clue how to read Steve, let alone know what he could be thinking of all things.

“What does that even mean?” You reply

“It means Steve is deeper in this than he thinks he is,” Bucky replies.

You catch your tongue before you reply with what automatically pops into your head,

If Steve was in this knee-deep, you were entirely swallowed.

Your eyes catch a light shining from the corner of your peripheral vision, over the wall overgrown with ivy.

“I wasn’t lying before,” You say

“Hmph?” Bucky asks, clocking his eyebrow

“Take me there” You reply, pointing towards the wall towards the back of the Manor.

“You mean the abandoned garden?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head

“If it’s abandoned then no one will know we’re there, right?” You argue

Bucky narrows his eyes, but reluctantly agrees, walking down the steps in long strides as you run after him to catch up.

You both walk along the expansive gravel driveway, the piercing gaze of Steve from the office window above follows the both of you as you venture through the spiny trail that leads to the garden hidden beyond the large hanging evergreen trees that grew along all over the grounds.

Almost losing your balance once or twice, you finally make it through the overgrown foliage, following the stone trail that soon crumbled into the dark dirt floor. Bucky steps over a broken step, before unlatching some kind of bolt and shoving a rotten gate open, breaking the vines that had once grown on the wood.

You walk through the opened gate, Bucky following close behind, and the shrubbery opens up to a clearing. Large evergreen trees like the ones near the Manor surround the open land, however, a different kind of tree stands sky high, and you can’t stop yourself from walking up to one, and feeling the maroon bark rough against your fingers.

You close your eyes and it comes to you,

Redwood oaks.

Times when you would think hard enough, the silhouette of skyscraping trunks, and deep green leaves would cloud your vision, and when you lean your head forward you can almost smell your past. It is beautiful and strange and it hurts just as much. You can’t find yourself anymore, you've resigned yourself to that, but these thousand-year-old trees make you feel more connected than ever.

You want to climb into it and let it consume you. Sleep until you woke up and you knew who you were. It’s strange, the tree reminds you of Steve somehow, like you've been here with him before and it's hitting you like deja vu.

Something has gifted between the both of you, between you and Bucky too, you noticed it today when he spoke to you rather than through you. He didn't have that unsure expression anymore like he didn't fully trust you, and you don't know whether it was because of Steve or because of last night.

The clearing is almost a hill, and you can see fields of honey-coloured wheat and grass cascade into hills as you look beyond the tall trees. You can make out the backbones of where some sort of wooden shelter or structure once stood, now all that was left was a pile of rotting wood and leaves.

“Why is this place abandoned,” You say, it was gorgeous and let in the sun in just the right way for it to be reflected from the trees and shower the clearing with a honey glow, but it was hidden. And all hidden things were hidden for a reason.

“Don't know, it's been in Steve's family for generations, rented out to a couple people and then sold to a family in the mafia. Until Steve bought it back, it seems like this used to be where some sort of sheltered seating area once stood” Bucky replies, digging his shoe into the dirt.

“Yeah well it seems like someone’s put it to good use” You reply, noticing a small hardwood sculpting table fitted next to a workbench, a small but well-built wooden gazebo shelters the workspace, and you want to step forward but something tells you that place is sacred.

A sound comes out of Bucky and when you turn your head, he looks towards the gazebo like he knows who it belongs to. It hits you that he probably does, being the eyes that see all in the place anyway.

“This place yours or something?” You reply, and Bucky looks towards you in surprise like he forget you were there.

“Hmp? No, not me necessarily, but I think I know who” Bucky murmurs, his eyes trailing back to Manor fixating on Steve's office and you have to swallow the laugh that erupts at the assumption.

“Steve? If Steve was to have a hideout behind his Manor it would be for a guillotine, not an easel” You reply.  

You look towards the Manor and even though your vision only catches the pitched roof peeking through the dark pine trees you don’t doubt by the feeling crawling up your arm that Steve is watching you too.

“Steve, he's done something but, he's- he's a good man” Bucky replies, turning a rock onto its smooth side between his hands

“Oh yeah? Just like my husband is? I’m starting to figure out good men don’t need to say they're good men” You retort

Bucky shakes his head, turning the rock between his hands before tossing it into the shrubbery.

“You’re husband, he's done things you can't even imagine, he is the farthest from Steve, he's the farthest that Steve could ever be” Bucky replies with a heated tone.

For some reason that statement sent a burn down your stomach, in some sick way, you felt it was your responsibility to protect your husband's honour and name in front of Bucky, but it disappears when you realise you're the one who had run across the country to escape the very man Bucky loathes.

“I know the things he's done alright? I’m not that oblivious”

“I’m sure you aren't, Steve wouldn't go through all this trouble for someone who isn't..smart. But what you know about your husband is only what he's allowed you to see, in this life, there's so much that goes between looks and eyes,”

“Steve, it's this life that's changed him, changed all of us, swallowed him up until we couldn't even recognise each other. God I wish you could have seen him before, he was so carefree, ran like the wind couldn't even catch him. Your husband, evil like that is born in you, encoded into your DNA until you know nothing else" Bucky replies

“How do you expect me to believe that about him if you leave me in the dark all this time? You say Steve is a good man, well then tell me how” You reply

Bucky grinds his teeth, his jaw working as he weighs the metaphorical pros and cons of letting you in, and telling you things you he doesn't doubt Steve hasn’t. It was strange, Bucky felt it was wrong for you to be in this agreement with Steve so blindly, Steve had told him he wanted to protect you, but how can he say that when you don't even know what he's protecting you from?

With a gruff sigh, Bucky turns his neck to face you, delving into one of the main, if not the entire reason Steve is the way he is, and of course it had to be connected to you.

“About a decade or so ago, Steve was in love with a woman, she was everything to him, his breath, his bones, his love, she owned it all. Now it was about the time when Steve was ordained to take over from his father, it was a tradition since the Rogers planted their foot in the underworld, and it was once Steve's father did not take it lightly. Taking over meant your entire life would be dedicated to this throne, you would live, breathe and eat business, and for Steve, what he lived for was her.” Bucky shifts so that his gaze moves from the Manor. And like he's ashamed to be telling you this, to let the stark demeanour of Steve crack.

Bucky chuckles in the sort of way that wasn’t out of humour, your eyes strain as you peer at him, watching him scratch his jaw and tussle his brown locs free from their curls.

“Steve’s father could sense his weakness before it even started, I guess he thought Steve would realise what was at stake, the responsibilities that he had to honour as part of this family. That week before his coronation, Steve refused his father in front of an entire dining room of men. He refused to let go of her in exchange for his marriage to the throne. Told all of them that he was going to marry her and run off. And I still don't know if it was a show of discipline or plain evil, but Steve never got that chance” Bucky says.

“What do you mean?” You reply, your confused expression turning grim as you notice the bleak look on Bucky's face.

“She was- she was murdered that very next morning” Bucky replies, his eyes returning to you, as you whip your head back to stare at him in horror.

“Your husband, was paid by Steve’s father to murder his fiance” Bucky replies after a beat, your breath leaves your chest as you stare at him in disbelief, hands grasping the edges of your apron as you wait for the punchline, and Bucky stares at you in anguish as you realise there isn't.

You don't know what sounds leave your mouth, just the look of Bucky’s face tears you away from his gaze and the tears glide down your neck. You don’t bother to wipe them, you don't doubt there is more anguish to come, more revelations that will have your head spinning, more secrets that were kept from you.

“Hey, hey, look at me” Bucky replies

“I can’t, I didn’t tell you this for nothing alright? I can’t have you leaving here teary-eyed, you told me you were strong yeah? So be strong. Your husband is a murdering psychopath, he has been since he was a teenager, this mercenary job was done to get his foot in this business, and now you're all muddled up in it too. And Steve, he doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to you” Bucky replies, squeezing your arm to shake you back to the present.

“But why? Why would Steve’s father do that?” You reply

Bucky stares off into the curving hills of wheat and grass, shaking his head before replying

“It was Steve’s obligation, it had been since he was conceived, Steve's father thought he gave him a life free of responsibilities while growing up in that town, he didn't think that recklessness would follow him to Brooklyn”.

“Town? What town” You ask, and this time Bucky avoids your gaze, whispering incoherent obscenities under his breath

“That is something only Steve can tell you, me and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn during our teenage years. That place was something from before even that, before even me”. Bucky replies

You nod as you stare at the river that swirled across the Manor grounds, the shock of your husband's role in Steve’s becoming the invisible stone-faced don he was now didn't fully hit you yet. It was like you were numb, forced to put on a brave face in front of Bucky, who had trusted you enough to tell you about Steve.

Steve.

The man who you had believed conned his way into your life, and tricked you into a deal you didn't agree to now seemed different to you, you can’t fathom how a man like that, a man so instilled in the traditions of this world once defied it. Steve had once been so in love he was ready to disown his father's own expectations of him, and yet in the end it had gotten her killed, and it had left him seated on the very throne he despised.

“We should probably head back, lord knows what Steve would say if he knew you were still here” Bucky replies, pulling out a cigarette from his suit breast pocket, and flicking open a metallic silver lighter encrusted with the Rogers family heirloom.

The amber light that ignites the bud elicits a strange feeling that litters goosebumps across your body, it reminds you of a burning photograph, left to ashes and soot. You can smell the stench of it too, and Bucky watches you carefully as he clasps the lighter back into his pocket, nodding to the trail you had just come from.

Your mind is too preoccupied to remember walking back to the Manor, or even sliding into the car door Bucky had opened for you. Your mind circled back and forth between the answers Bucky had muttered under the sweet wisp of the morning breeze and the millions of questions that were met with the same silence and face of neutrality that Steve wore.

There was so much that you didn’t know, it hadn't hit you before, but it was so frighteningly obvious now. You were still the same foolishly naive girl that you had been 10 years ago, except this time, if Bucky had been right, you weren't being robbed of your entire autonomy.

You couldn't deny that since you had arrived in Brooklyn, you felt a strange pull that led you to Steve, you felt it the first time he walked into the diner, and although it was crowded by fear then, you can feel it in all its entirety now. For some strange reason, you hoped what Rumlow had said was just another thread of lies he had made you unravel, you hoped to god for Steve’s sake that all it was, was a childish attempt at getting out of babysitting.

You had steered your mind clear from falling down the rabbit hole of what else it could be, and the sinking feeling that begins to unfurl in your stomach now has you pinching yourself awake,  and forcing yourself to stare through the tinted car windows. You watch the blur of the pine trees crowding the curving roads and Bucky’s incessant tapping of the steering wheel over-stimulate your senses, resting your head on the window.

Perhaps Steve knew a thing or two about betrayal, and from the same man that had made you run halfway across the country.

#james bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #mafia!au #mafia!steve rogers x female reader #mafia!steve rogers #mob steve rogers #mob!steve rogers x woc!reader #mob!steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers x black!reader #mafia!steve rogers x black!reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!sam wilson #mafia!avengers #innocent!reader #neonovember #neo writes #mafia!steve rogers x woc!reader #mob!steve rogers x black!reader #tapttd #series #mafia!steve rogers series #mob!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mob!steve rogers x innocent!reader #steve rogers x innocent!reader

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Need You Tonight

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Black!girlfriend!reader

Summary: You’re trying to give your boyfriend his Christmas present. If only he didn’t have company.

Warnings: minors dni, smut, oral, missionary sex

A/N: ngl the endings a little rushed cuz I really wanted to put this out. Titled after Need You Tonight by American Would have been out sooner but work was a lot this season. Anyway. Merry Christmas and happy holidays. This is unedited 🫣 Please like, follow, and reblog with a comment 💜✌🏾)

——————————————————

Your friends had been right. What the hell was wrong with you. Here you were seeing a great guy like Steve and sure the two of you had agreed to take things slow but your vibrator was not cutting it now.

Besides you had no idea what to get him and your friends had talked you into this red lingerie set. About what a great gift it’d be for him while you were out Christmas shopping. And then you ended up spilling it all that it hadn’t happened yet.

And they looked at you like you were crazy.

You get it, but with Steve things didn’t need to be about sex. He wanted to take it as slow as you needed.

He’d been the perfect gentleman. Never asking you for too much. Willing to wait until the right time to take things to next levels. Honestly it was kind of nice to take all that pressure off, but you had needs. And you knew he could fulfill them.

So why keep beating around the bush.

Honestly this was something you’d always wanted to do. Steve was the kind of guy that deserved this energy. Was definitely the kind of guy you could see yourself settling down with. The kinda man that you could take him to mom and even she’d swoon. The kinda man you saved the big piece of chicken for.

And your pussy was tired of you pretending like you didn’t want him to touch you.

Maybe you shouldn’t have given into it. On one hand scared that you’d embarrassed yourself. Then on the other you were so horny that all you could think was fuck it. You’d gone slow enough by now.

Besides there was snow on the ground and all you wanted was for him to hold you as soon as the snow touched the ground. Then you kept thinking about him going from being his sweet self to something else entirely and now you couldn’t get it out of your head.

So now you were swallowing as you worked up the nerve to knock on his door. Dressed in way too little for the kind of weather that was outside telling yourself that you could so do this even if it meant freezing your nipples off. You could so seduce Captain America. No big deal.

You looked around making sure no one else could see you. Butterflies doing tricks in your stomach as you waited for him. Not like you didn’t know he was home.

“Y/N?” He asked. Surprised to see you when he opened the door. Especially to be standing in front of him wearing a trench coat. Stilettos on your feet. Makeup and hair done to perfection.

Obviously his first instinct was to think that maybe he forgot about something. Not helping it as he looked you up from head to toe. A girl like you standing on his doorstep at a time like this. He wanted to make sure he hadn’t gotten his schedule mixed up.

“Hey,” you replied, with a smile. “Sorry to drop by unannounced, but-,”

Steve relaxed a little when he realized it wasn’t that he’d missed anything. So he cut you off to say, “No, no. You’re always welcome here. You know that,” he said. Still not able to tear his eyes away from how fucking stunning you looked.

No he had to have missed something.

But honestly you were feeling kind of weird because yeah Steve was a really attractive man. Always well-groomed and polite, but also you could smell his cologne which was intoxicating.

If he wasn’t expecting you why did he look so good.

No. Steve wasn’t like that. By now he’d asked you to be his girlfriend and everything. You were official. He wouldn’t just do that. Right? Not when you’d been gushing to all your friends about him. Not when he’d been the first guy you’d ever gotten comfortable with. Shit this was not a good idea.

Well that was until he pulled you into a hug. Leaning down to press a quick kiss onto your lips. Like he was trying to be careful to not get your lipstick on him.

“You look really fucking pretty,” he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “I didn’t miss a date or anything, right?” He asked.

“No,” you replied looking up at him with your chin on his chest his arms snuggly around you. “I just wanted to see you,” you said. “I’m sorry if this is a bad time.”

Steve furrowed his brow before kissing your forehead. “I mean… it’s not the best time,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Oh,” you said. “Well, I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Once again looking to make sure none of his neighbors could see you.

“Baby, it’s ok. I’m always happy to see you.”

He was just acting so normal even if anxiety was taking it’s course. It was now or never either way. “I just… I was thinking about some stuff and I…” you were trying to sound all husky and sexy and holy fuck you were hoping you were selling it, “wanted to give you your Christmas present early.”

Getting ready to undo the tie around your waist. Now or never. Now or never. Now or never.

“Wait, Babe, I-,” he started, stopping as the coat fell open. Exposing the lingerie you were wearing underneath. Steve not able to stop his jaw from dropping as he got a good look at you. Breasts confined to a red bra with a matching thong. Garter belt around your thighs.

He’d never seen that much of you. So to be seeing it like this… goddamn. Almost made him forget what he was going to say, which was a shame as he heard Tony says, “Well, damn, Cap, I didn’t know it was going to be that kind of party.”

——————————————————-

Tony was way too giddy for someone whose eyes almost got plucked out by a super solider a minute ago. Telling him to fuck off before stepping outside so he could close to door behind him.

Especially when you turned to cover yourself. A gasp leaving your lips from the shock. Putting your hand to your mouth as the embarrassment seeped in.

At first Steve just wrapped his arms around you. Hugging you from behind. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he cooed into your ear. “It’s okay. You didn’t know, Sweetheart.”

As if that made it any better.

“Look at me,” he told you after a few moments even though you really didn’t want to. Not with your eyes probably looking all hazy now. “I’m serious it’s okay. Tony knows I’ll fuck him up if he says anything.”

“But he saw… everything,” you groaned, crinkling your nose. Not feeling any less mortified.

Steve chuckled. “At least you look good?”

“Really?” You asked, biting your lip. Finally turning around in his arms.

“Oh, you look really good. Can’t believe you got all dressed up like this for me.” He put his hand under your chin so you have to look up at him. “What brought this on?” He asked.

“I’m just… tired of waiting,” you said.

Steve tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Yeah? Don’t worry, Baby. I’ve been feeling the same way.”

“Really?” You asked.

“Of course,” he replied. “All I’ve been thinking about lately, but I didn’t wanna push you.”

“It’s okay,” you replied. “You could’ve I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“Don’t worry, Baby. We’ve got time to make up for it.” He sighed, a content smile spreading onto his lips. “You wanna join us?”

Honestly you weren’t sure if you could face Tony. Fucking Iron Man of all people had just seen you half naked trying to surprise his teammate.

“Don’t worry about Tony,” he tried to assure you once again. “Besides, you’ll finally be able to meet everyone. Well almost everyone.”

Not that this is the way you’d imagined it. And while you’d rather crawl into a hole and die than face them, you really did wanna be close to Steve right now.

“Well… okay,” you replied.

Steve kissed the side of your head, grabbing your hand.

The apartment had been decorated by the two of you. Steve happy to let you decide what went there. At your place you were sharing with your roommates and couldn’t just take it all over, but he didn’t give a shit. He was happy to have you do whatever you desired.

Tony had even commented on it when he walked in. Surprise to see his friend’s home so festive.

As soon as you got in, there was Tony with a smirk on his face. Ready to toss out some smart remark. Steve cutting his eyes at him like he was dating him to open his mouth.

“Guys, this is Y/N. My girlfriend. Y/N, this is everyone.”

“Oh my gosh! Finally! We’ve been asking when he was gonna bring around the girl that’s been stealing him away from us,” Natasha shot up so she could pull you into a hug.

“I can see why,” Tony remarked with a snort.

If looks could kill he’d definitely be six feet under with the way Steve looked at him. ‘Shut the fuck up,’ he mouthed.

Tony’s jaw dropped because it wasn’t often he could push Cap this hard. On one hand not wanting to make this any worse, but who was he kidding. He was Tony Stark of course he wanted to make it worse.

He’d just never seen Rogers so possessive. Not that he could really blame him. Tony would have been ready to fight someone too if he had a girl like you showing up like that ready to keep him warm in the middle of winter.

Could see the whole good girl thing going on despite what he had seen previously. Of course the golden boy would be into that. Sweet on the outside but only an inside he was allowed to have.

Besides Natasha was absolutely gushing over you. Had been trying to set him up for how long? And then he finally gets with someone and she’s had to wait to meet you. Of course she was going to gush.

“Hi, Sam. Bucky,” you greeted them as the two got up to say hello.

Natasha gasped. “Wait! You guys got to meet her before me? Steve!”

“They were with me when we met!” He protested.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We so need more girls around. Wanda, Pepper, and I can only take so much,” she said.

“We’re not that bad,” Sam protested. “Just Tony,” he added, who’d started ignoring them to pay attention to the fight again. “And, Bucky can be a handful.”

“At least I’m not going around harassing people with my metal bird,” Bucky retorted.

“Redwing is family! The sooner everyone understands that the better off we’ll all be.”

“See what I have to put up with,” Natasha said.

——————————————————

It was pretty fun hanging out with them. Watching Steve get all hyped up with them. Something was kind of sexy about watching him like this.

But still you just wanted to spend time with him. Alone. And this trench coat was not ideal for this kind of setting.

“You okay, Baby?” He asked into your ear after awhile seeing the way you kept trying to make sure your tie was fully closed.

“Yeah,” you answered looking up at him with a smile. While comfortable still a little nervous since you were just sitting here in a trench coat with barely anything underneath.

“Are you cold?” He asked into your ear.

“A little,” you replied.

“Sorry,” he whispered, before kissing your cheek. “Too bad I can’t be warming you up right now.”

You found yourself biting your lip at that. Look up at him through your lashes before he swiped his lips across yours really quick. “Hey, hey, hey, other people are around,” Tony said, snapping his fingers. “Put your hands where we can see ‘em.”

You raised your hands up, but Steve just rolled his eyes before standing up. “Be right back,” he replied, grabbing your hand.

“Hurry back, it’s almost the main event,” Natasha said.

Okay good. It was almost over. Then you could get to the part you’d come over for.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Sam remarked.

Steve was blushing as he grabbed you be your hips so he could lead you away. Down the hall towards his bedroom. “Sorry about them,” he said when they were out of earshot.

“No it’s sweet,” you replied. Steve put his hand on the small of your back. Trying to keep himself from going further down to your ass.

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t messed around. You’d gotten close to having sex but it was like… he doesn’t know. Something always stopped them. Like they were waiting to savor it. No wonder you’d gotten so sick of it and just came over here like this.

His poor girl had wanted to surprise him. Had wanted him to take care of you fully. Instead you got a room full of his friends ragging on him when he could have been kissing you all over.

Now you were sitting on his bed as he dug through the drawer to find a sweatshirt for you to wear.

“Here, Baby,” he replied, handing it to you.

You stood up to tug at the tie around your waist. Letting it fall from your body. Steve’s jaw dropped as he looked up and down your body.

Would he be a bad host if he told everyone to get the fuck out.

Before you could fully shrug off your coat, Steve grabbed you by your waist. Wrapped his arms around you in a snug embrace. Your lingerie covered breasts pressing into his chest. “Fuck. I almost want you to keep it on,” he said. “Maybe we can have a do over.”

“Mhm,” you replied. “I’ll just make sure to warn you next time.”

“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he said.

“I just didn’t know what to get you and then my friends freaked when I told them we’ve never had sex.” You laughed.

“Ohhh so you’re my present?” He asked with a smirk. “Damn. Maybe I should just open you up.”

Steve was ready to kiss you again, except as soon as his lips touched yours there was a knock on the door. “Fights on!” Bucky said through the door. Steve able to hear Sam snickering through the door.

“We’ll be right out,” he replied with a sigh. Fucking cockblocks.

You giggled and it only made him want to say fuck it even more. Throw you on the bed and devour you. “Come on,” you said wrapping your arms around his neck. “Really want me to keep it on?” You asked him.

“I want you to be comfortable,” he said. “Besides. I like seeing you in my clothes.” Then his eyes went down to your boobs. “Fuck,” he said under his breath.

“We better get back out there,” you said.

Ugh he couldn’t wait for everyone to be gone.

——————————————————-

“No! What the fuck!” Tony groaned, throwing his head back as his guy went down. “You’re fucking kidding me!”

Sam on the other hand was positively giddy. Happy as hell to take home a bet against the billionaire.

“We’re going to see you at Christmas dinner, right?” Natasha said as they all said their goodbyes.

You looked up at Steve who smiled down at you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He’d already been asking you if you wanted to join them. Had wanted to spend your first Christmas as a couple together of course, but you’d been on the fence having been nervous to meet everybody.

“Yeah I think it’ll be fun,” you answered.

Steve didn’t want to make it obvious that he was trying to hurry them out. Because as soon as the door closed he was right there. Picking you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist. Not even saying a word as he kissed you. Large hands coming to grip at your ass.

Your lips worked against his. Hands clawing at those broad shoulders. Moaning into his mouth. Only pulling away so he could pull his shirt off.

There was this hunger that the two of you never got to have before that was definitely there now. Finding yourself unable to stop now that you’d started. Wanted him to touch you all over. Can’t believe you’d waited this long in the first place.

Something about you taking the initiative. He’d been trying to take it slow. Protect your honor and shit. Wait until you were ready.

Had been picturing rose petals and shit. Maybe he’d take you somewhere nice. Wine and dine you first. You probably would have gotten all dressed up.

That’s okay. They could do that another time. Right now he just didn’t wanna stop putting his lips all over you. “Fuck, Steve,” you gasped as he kissed along your thighs.

Was down on his knees ready to worship you. Something about you being the one to initiate it was making him want to.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Can’t believe you dressed all up for me,” he groaned. “Look so beautiful. Can’t wait to finally make love to you, Baby. Can I taste you?”

“Yes,” you cried.

Fuck he was in heaven with his face between your thighs. Couldn’t get enough. Especially as his tongue touched your clit. Was addicted to all the sounds you were making as his tongue worked it.

For all the time he thought about doing this to you, doing it was so much better. The fucking noises you were making. The way you tried to grind your tight little hole against his face only for him to pin you down by your hips to stop you.

“It’s too much,” you ended up whining.

Steve laughed into you. Seeing your desperation. The way your eyes had started to glaze over. The way your bottom lip poked out. Fuck you looked so fucking pretty.

“Come on. I know you can take me. It’s okay,” he said, pulling away for a second. He put his lips on your stomach this time. Fingers gripping your hips still. Your chest heaving up and down.

“Too much,” you repeated as your chest heaved up and down.

Steve just chuckled before leaning up so he could peck your lips. “Come on, Baby. You can take it. How are you gonna take my dick if you can’t even take my mouth.”

Fuck. He was right. You’d felt him through his pants before. It’s why you were aching to just let it happen. Wanted to feel his thick cock inside of you so bad. But fuck the way he’d been touching you, you were a mess.

“You got this, Babe,” he whispered into the side of your mouth. “Come on I know you didn’t come all the way over here for me to not fuck you. You know how bad I’ve been wanting this pussy? Think I’m gonna let you go without giving it to you?”

Who even was this man. One minute he was being sweet and holding your hand in front of his friends. Next he was talking all dirty into you. Fuck. He was definitely trying to be the death of you.

And you didn’t wanna let him down. Had shown up half naked and sat politely while him and his friends finished up. Had been trying real hard to be good. It was all you wanted after all. For him to have his way with you and fuck-

Steve had started kissing on the nape of your neck knocking you out of your thoughts. It made you let out a loud gasp as he also gripped your thigh.

“Drive me crazy,” he said into your ear pulling you on top so you were straddling him.

“Fuck, Daddy I need you,” you moaned.

“Yeah, Baby?” He whispered, hands moving to your ass so he could grind you against his length.

Fuck he was just so big. And your pussy was leaking. Leaving a wet spot against his crotch. You wanted him so bad. Why was he still wearing clothes.

Finally you tugged at his belt. Hands franticly grabbing at him as if you were trying to paw them off. “It’s okay, Baby. I got it. Got you too fucked out already. Can’t even get it right.”

You let out a moan at the way he was talking to you. Pussy feeling like you could not wait any longer. You needed him so bad. It wasn’t even fair.

“Please.” Fuck it sounded so whiney the way that came from you, but you couldn’t help it.

Steve put his lips back on your as he pulled himself from his pants. Dick now on display. Ready for you to sink down onto.

You put your hand on him. Wrist moving up and down as you moaned because fuck he was big. How were you supposed to take it. Even in your hand it felt perfect. Fuck you needed him so bad.

Steve twisted you around so you could lay back. Pushing you into the cushions as he climbed on top of you. Arms going on either side of your head as he just couldn’t stop kissing you.

This was the problem. Every time the two of you tried to fuck you’d end up getting so caught up in kissing that you didn’t even do the rest.

Then he’d pull away to say something really sweet and you’d end up getting distracted. You’d end up talking and giggling. Then you’d end up cuddling. Getting really nice and cozy but for Christmas you wanted all of him and you didn’t feel like waiting anymore.

“Please, Steve I-,” you pulled away to say only to need to catch your breath. “Just need you.”

One side of Steve’s mouths curled up as he realized just how bad off you were. “Tell me what you need.”

“Your dick. I need your dick. Please I need you inside me. I can’t wait anymore.”

It all came out as a plea. Way more than what you meant for it to be. “You sure? Couldn’t even handle my tongue a minute go. Think I’m gonna have to stretch your little pussy out.”

“Do whatever you want I just- I don’t even care anymore,” you sobbed.

Steve chuckled and for some reason that made your pussy twitch. “Such a mess for me,” he said, into your ear again.

Then he was off you and you were making grabby hands trying to get him to hurry up and come back. Except now you could see his dick up close as he started taking his pants all the way off. Sitting up as your mouth salivated because fuck it was just as pretty as you’d thought it would be.

“Fuck, Steve.” You just couldn’t help yourself as you grabbed it again. Needing to feel him. Fuck you needed to…

Steve groaned as you licked a strip up and down his dick. Coming to the head so you could swirl your tongue around the tip. “Fuck, Y/N, Baby.”

Putting his hand on your head as you took him into your mouth. Letting out a grunt from how fucking good it felt to have his dick inch into your mouth.

Here Steve had been thinking that you were this sweet girl. Someone he would have been able to take home to mom if she’d been alive, but here you were getting on your knees so you could suck him off properly. Trying to see how far you could get in your throat before gagging around him.

“Shit,” he groaned. “Feel so fucking- goddamn.”

Can’t believe you hadn’t tasted him sooner. Especially as your mouth was stuffed full. Feeling him through his pants a few times had nothing on taking him down your throat. Trying to be a good girl who just wanted to be good for her super boyfriend.

“That’s it,” he hissed, trying to stop himself from rocking his hips but fuck he was so ready to start fucking your mouth. Barely stopping himself because as bad as he wanted you to keep doing he couldn’t wait anymore.

Steve snatched you up grabbing you so he could throw you over his shoulder making you squeal. “Steve!”

His hands pawed at your ass as he walked with you down the hall to his bedroom. Could barely fucking wait but he at least wanted to get you in his bed first.

Didn’t even give you a second to get situated on the mattress as he climbed on top of you. Not that you cared as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hands going to his shoulders so you could claw at them. Nails digging into his skin.

Lips meeting your once again as he spread you open. Hand going to your pussy after so he could rub his thumb on your clit. “Holy fuck,” you pulled away to mewl.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed into your ear. “This what you wanted for Christmas, huh?”

As the same time he lined himself up with your entrance. Ready to just say fuck it. Had been waiting too long anyway and didn’t feel like waiting any longer. Steve needed you.

Your mouth split open as he inched in. Going slow so he didn’t hurt you. Wanting to give you a time to adjust. He knew he could be a little much.

You laid back with a gasp when he was halfway through. “Fuck. I’m so-,” you stopped to throw your head back, “I’m so full. It’s- fuck. It’s- it’s too- Stevie,” you whimpered. “Please. Make me- I can… I can take it I promise, please.”

Steve kissed you again as he went to the hilt. Balls slapping against your ass. You were just so tight it was making his head spin. Couldn’t believe how good you felt. Had definitely been worth the wait.

“Harder,” you pulled away to cry out.

“You sure?” He asked. “I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please?” Fuck you didn’t intend to sound like you were begging but you couldn’t help it.

Who the hell was he to deny you. Fuck you clearly wanted him bad. Of course he wanted to give it to you.

Besides the noise you made when he did as you asked made him want to give you whatever you wanted.

“Just like that!” You cried as he fucked into you.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Like this?” Then he did whatever move that was that was making you react like that.

“Yes,” you sobbed out. Scratching his back. It was like he was getting all these spots no one else had ever been able to reach. Probably why you could feel yourself so close.

It only worsened when he put his mouth on your tits. The sensations making you want him to never stop. Something about watching his sweet face suckling your nipples like he was trying to mark them was what did it. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tightened. Orgasm making you scream.

“Steve- fu- fuck. Oh my god. That’s it. It’s yours. You can- please. My pussy it’s yours!”

“I know, Baby. I know.” His face mocking concern as if he wasn’t the one making you feel like this. “It’s been mine. That’s why you needed me to fuck if as soon as possible, huh?”

“Yes!”

“Showed up like a little slut in your lingerie. If only I got to rip it off of you as soon as you got in. Bet you would have liked that.”

“Yes!”

It was all you could say. Not even sure how you could still even speak with the orgasm he’d given you.

“Gonna let me play with you all fucking night, huh? Might fuck you until Christmas morning. Make you spend Christmas Eve on my dick.”

“Okay,” you cried. “I’ll- oh my-,” you put your hands against his shoulders like you were trying to brace yourself. Eyes rolling back once again. Fuck there was just this spot that he kept hitting and making you cum all over him.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned. “That’s my fucking girl.”

——————————————————

You’d sincerely lost track of time since last night. All you knew was that even when the morning fell he was behind you. Holding onto your hips as he fucked you from behind.

Steve was serious about fucking you into Christmas Day. Had only pulled away for bathroom breaks and food.

At some point it was like your brain had shut off and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you. All you could think about was Steve and how you wanted to make him cum inside you.

And he did. Multiple times. That super solider stamina keeping him going even when you thought you’d definitely had enough. But what was enough with him around.

If anything he was the one that had been turned into an addict. Of course he wasn’t going to pull out. You were his.

Sure it may not have started out the way you wanted it to, but hell at least it had ended up being exactly what you’d needed.

Finally he’d let you go to sleep seeing just how worn out he’d gotten you even if he could have kept going. Wanted to give you a little time because he was still working up the nerve to give you your present.

“Steve?” You softly said making his head snap towards you.

He’d been keeping you naked but right now you were bundled up in his robe. He was only in a pair of boxer briefs himself. Freshly wrapped gift sitting neatly on the coffee table.

“Baby, what are you doing up?” He asked.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” you said with a pout. Coming to settle onto his lap. “I was cold. Need you to warm me up.”

He couldn’t wait to wrap his arms around you. Kissing your cheek and then behind your ear. “Ah, I’m sorry, Babe. Don’t worry I’ll warm you up.”

“Ohhh whose that for?” You asked looking at the present.

Steve leaned forward to grab it. “Yours. Wanna open it?”

“Ohhh you’re saying I don’t have to wait until morning?”

“Nah,” he said. “I already got my gift. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t give you yours.”

You smiled up at Steve before kissing underneath his jaw. Fuck he was so cozy.

Your heart thumped as you’d ripped off the wrapping paper and took the top off the box to see a tiny key. Eyes meeting his again. “Steve, wait what… what is this…”

“A key,” he said with a chuckle. “Look I know we haven’t been together that long, but… I don’t know. Especially after tonight I want you around all the time. When I wake up. When I go to bed. I love you and I want you to move in with me.”

“Really?” Your eyes were all watery.

“Yeah, Baby,” he replied. “What do you say?”

“Of course I’ll move in with you, Steve.” You threw your arms around him. “I love you, too.”

That was all Steve needed to hear. The two of you starting to kiss again. Robe quickly coming off. His boxers ending up on the floor. The two of you had to christen this place. And he wasn’t going to stop until he fucked you in every room.

#fics by afbh #Chris Evans smut #steve rogers smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black women #chris evans x black female reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x female reader #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x female reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x black female reader

[hunterbunter3000]

ok so I've had this in my memory for ages and i can so imagine Sweetheart having this as a tattoo on her back, like the angel wings tattoos that are the complete length of your back so and the crescent on her neck like oml like its barely visible from under her shirts and it just makes her neck look that much more delectable plus the contrast from the womb tattoo to the angel like wings is a sight to see, makes the boys go feral (especially soap once he sees it, he didn't notice before cuz he was too short lol)

IM GOING FERALLLLL

THIS IS AMAZING FOR SWEETS HOLY COW

The original idea was that she was going to have two pieces, high and low tattoos, the low one was something like this:

But then I scrapped that, and she was just gonna have a regular back tattoo (like a big one or one in the middle of her back), and it was gonna be something like this:

B U T that changed and the new idea was that the back tattoo was traveling on her body, like coming to her collarbone and neck, and coming down her arms (which is talked about in the 18+ Gaz ask), something like this:

BUT GOOODDDDDD YOURS IS SO SICK GREMLIN

Like I can see her getting it because a friend told her that it'll look so cool, not telling her what it means. (As you said, it looks like angel wings) and then that friend dies, not telling her the meaning. (Her friend told her to get it because Sweetheart is like an angel)

Sfw

(Just kinda sensual teehee)

Cw.: biblical talk (angels), so much praise, overstimulation (sweets cries), bit of angst and feels, (idk if this counts as angst? I'm still learning what's angst and what's not😭) soap is so down bad he's speaking in Scottish Gaelic-- it's translated by Google so I'm sorry beforehand! He talks so damn much, I went overboard 💀 the translation is at the end!

So skip ahead to the now, she's taking care of some wounds she got from a mission, with her shirt off and hair down, wrapping her ankle with concentrated eyes. She doesn't hear Soap knock on her door, and she doesn't hear his little gasp. She also doesn't hear him walk slowly towards her, but she does feel thick, warm fingers move some of her hair and trail down her back. She jolts, turning around abruptly. Her tense shoulders relax, seeing it's only her best friend.

She needs to be more vigilant.

"Jeez, Soap," She chuckles, "You scared me."

His eyes are wide, skin flushed with pink and breaths uneven.

"Tha mi duilich..." he mutters breathlessly. Sweetheart cocks an eyebrow. "Whatcha say?" Soap sucks in a breath and closes his eyes tightly. It's like he's telling himself something.

"Sorry, I'm - I said I'm sorry." Sweetheart nods, "Oh, that's cool! Is that like- Gaelic or somethin'?" Soap nods as if he's in a trance, eyes still focused on her back. Her glowing, hunched over back with the mark of an angel. It has to be. Different scars align on her skin, some in different lengths, some overlapping others, and many that are jagged.

But the beauty of the tattoo is still relevant.

Sweetheart calls out his name softly to get his attention but fails. His mind is hazy, and too many thoughts going through him. The waves of heat pulse on his skin and insides as he gets closer to her back.

Sweetheart doesn't feel comfortable, but she doesn't feel uncomfortable at the same time. She sees him get on his knees and reaches out for her, but freezes. He turns his head and shuts his eyes again, having mental turmoil with his actions. He stares into her eyes, asking her if he can touch it. Feel it.

Admire it.

Her eyes flutter, looking back at him one last time, she shifts her hair to one side, combing the curls with her hand, showing more of the tattoo that goes up to the nape of her neck and around her shoulders. Her actions speak a million words to him.

You can touch it. But please, be gentle.

She hears him whine- whine-- and his palms are clamping on her back immediately.

"Tha e cho breagha. Fuck, bidh thu mar bhàs dhomh, leanabh." His hand slides around to her tummy, tracing the heart to her womb tattoo since he remembers where it's located, engraved- burned-- into his memory. "Ach bheir thu air ais beò mi le seo," His voice is but a whisper over her back, the woman confused if he's talking to her or the tattoo. She feels plush lips where the blade is located. Oh god--

He's kissing it.

Sweetheart shivers, a whiny moan bubbling in her throat, but she covers her mouth with her shaky hand. She hears him mumble Gaelic again, but it doesn't feel like he's talking bad about it. It feels good, warm. Like he's praising it.

Worshipping it.

His other hand feels her skin all over her side, up her back till he reaches her shoulder. "Bha fios agam gu robh thu a 'falach rudeigin fo na turtlenecks sin, brèagha. Bha an corp seo an-còmhnaidh a’ falach rudeigin. Air do ghualainn," His fingers trail on the lines of the angel-like wings, "Air do ghualainn," They snake upwards and around, the pads feeling the bumps of scars and the outline of ink. "Suas do mhuineal."

Sweetheart whimpers, shivering under his touch. Her shoulders cave in, and she bends more forward. She feels his lips trail up her heated skin, wet with love and praise from the scotsman. She knew he loved her tattoos that she showed him, but she never thought he would do something like this.

Did he really like them that much? Did he really like her that much?

Soaps breath shudders on the halo, feeling her goosebumps form and hairs sticking up, hands raking up and down the spiked angel wings.

"Tha mi a’ guidhe nach do dh’fhalaich thu uam, a ghràidh. Tha gaol agam oirbh uile, agus chan atharraich sin gu bràth."

"I'm- I'm sorry...?" Why is she apologizing? She felt like she needed to apologize for something she did but didn't understand what he said. She was going to speak again, but the gentle lull of his shushing in her ear stopped her.

"Òr 's a tha mise air do chràdh agus an dubh a tha air do chorp naomh. Tha am peant dubh maireannach a th’ agad a’ toirt ort coimhead ethereal. Fuck, chan eil fhios agam carson a tha thu a’ còmhdach seo. Bidh thu a’ faighinn cho togarrach rium a h-uile uair a thig thu faisg orm, agus a bhith faicinn an ealain a th’ agad air do bhodhaig na urram ann fhèin. Tha do bhòidhchead tarraingeach, aingil. Chan eil fios agad dè an ìre de chumhachd a tha agad thairis air na fir a tha a 'coiseachd air an talamh seo."

If he keeps going, she's gonna pass out at this rate.

His growly, Scottish drawl always made Sweetheart heat up and melt. But this - this carnal, whispering preaching onto her skin - it's too much, overflowing her cup to the point that it spills all over the floor.

"Mar a chuirinn seachad mo làithean uile ag innse dhut mar a tha thu mar thiodhlac bho na nèamhan. Cha bhithinn leisg a dhol air mo ghlùinean agus mo dhìlseachd gu lèir a thoirt dhut a h-uile latha." He mumbles, lips talking against her skin like he's muttering scriptures to the ink.

With his blue eyes half-lidded, his hands slide down her shoulder blades and back up, his touch so gentle like feathers and silk, down to the small of her back, where the blade ends.

"Tha mi a’ guidhe nach do dh’fhalaich thu uam, a ghràidh. Tha gaol agam oirbh uile, agus chan atharraich sin gu bràth."

"Johnny..." Sweetheart calls out, mysterious want laced in her voice. She doesn't know why he acts like her tattoos are sacred. She doesn't know why she feels tears forming. Her eyes flutter back when his thumbs massage her hips.

He hums, "An ann air sgàth sin a fhuair thu seo? A chionn gu bheil thu bho na nèamhan? Tha e ciallach nam biodh tu. Archangel, a 'stiùireadh shaighdearan gu cogadh le do bhall-airm, ceannardas, agus làmh an uachdair."

Her breath hitches. Archangel?

Why did he say that?

He thinks she's an angel? One of the heavenly hosts, a dispenser of justice and bringer of hope.

Oh my God.

If he thinks that she's like an archangel, then that's the best compliment she has ever gotten.

She feels tears coming down her cheeks, the heavy feeling in her head and warmth coursing through her veins. She remembers when her old high school friend from home told her to get this piece as a tattoo since she had trouble figuring out what to get. She was so excited, kept asking her every day what it meant or what significance it had with Sweetheart, but all she kept saying was, "You'll figure it out."

Sweetheart asked sporadically when her friend was in the hospital. Her answer was always the same.

Sweetheart stopped asking completely when her friend was buried next to her family. She didn't give an answer anymore.

She covers her mouth again to stop a choked sob, tears streaming down her face.

Her friend knew.

"Fiù 's nuair a tha thu air do dhòrtadh ann am fuil an nàmhaid, tha thu fhathast a' seasamh àrd ann an neart, misneachail, nad ghlòir gu lèir. A ’coimhead thairis air a h-uile duine, a’ cuideachadh neach sam bith ann an fheum leis a ’ghàire radanta sin."

Soap knows.

"Ged nach fhaicear do sgiathan, bidh iad fhathast a 'deàrrsadh fon t-solas a tha a' gluasad bho do shàil. An dòchas agus an gaol a bheir thu do dhaoine ... bheir e orm tuiteam air do shon eadhon nas motha a h-uile uair."

And now Sweetheart knows.

He kisses her shoulders, neck, and spine- all the way down to the tip of the blade. He could kiss this skin forever, hearing her soft moans and whimpers. Soap hears her little hiccups and moves to face her. He tenderly cups her jaw and slowly lifts, seeing her big, glistening eyes look up at him. Her damp cheeks, creased eyebrows, and wobbling bottom lip melts his heart. He looks at her with such fondness and love in his eyes, Sweetheart is sure that she will pass away. He brushes her hair out of her face as if she's made out of the finest china.

"Oh, mo ghràidh, mo leannan."

He cranes his neck down, soft swollen lips meeting her forehead. Sweetheart's eyes close, clumped with tears, leaning into his kiss and clutching his hand.

"Mo aingeal dìon."

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

Translation:

It's so beautiful. Fuck, you'll be the death of me, baby. But you'll bring me back to life with this. I knew you were hiding something under those turtlenecks, beautiful. This body was always hiding something. On your shoulders... Up your neck. I wish you didn't hide from me, my love. I love you all, and that will never change.

You have nothing to apologize for, my darling, my heart. Words can not describe how much I ache for you and the ink that's on your holy body. The black permanent paint you have makes you look ethereal. Fuck, I don't know why you cover this. You get me so excited every time you come near me, and to see the art you have on your body is an honor in itself. Your beauty is alluring, angelic. You don't know how much power you hold over the men that walk this earth.

How I would spend all my days telling you how you're a gift from the heavens. I would not hesitate to get on my knees and give my devotion to you every day.

Hmm, is that why you got this? Because you're from the heavens? It makes sense if you were. An archangel, guiding soldiers into war with your weapon, leadership, and dominant hand.

Even when drenched in the enemy's blood, you still stand tall in strength, confident, in all your pretty glory. Watching over everyone, helping anyone in need with that radiant smile.

Even though your wings are not seen, they still shine under the light that radiates from your halo. The hope and love you give people... it makes me fall for you even more every time.

My dear, my sweetheart.

My guardian angel.

Bonus.!

Bruh, I totally blocked out the others HAHA

They haven't seen it yet, but Soap boasts about it 24/7. He described it the best he can without giving anything away. But he talks consistently that he saw it and he touched it and-- other stuff.

He doesn't tell his team that he practically went to church on her back tattoo, but he sees how jealous they got so that's good enough for him. Thank God Krueger doesn't know.

#this was so fun #I MISS WRITING WAAHHH #soap x reader #soap modern warfare #soap x fem reader #mw2 soap #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish x you #soap mactavish #cod oc #cod x y/n #black fem reader #cod imagine #modern warfare imagine #black!reader #fem!reader #steve rogers x black female reader #x female reader #cod x female reader #mw2 x reader #141 sweetheart #hunter's ask lounge ☕️

[libras-child]

Them There Eyes

Chapter 2

Warning: slapping, mentions of arranged marriage

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Black female reader

Word count: 1801

Sorry for the long wait. Writers block really is the cause. I wrote this all in one night because when creativity hits I have to utilize it. I could always use constructive criticism to help me improve. Anyway I hope you enjoy <3

The night was young and the city was still awake, shit, it never slept. The breeze was cool, sending goosebumps across your arms. The rustling of Steve’s suit jacket being shrugged off his shoulders broke the blissful silence between you two.

“Here, to keep you warm.” He whispered as he wrapped his jacket around you.

“Thank you… I’m sorry for keeping you.”

“No, no, I want to be here with you…Is your real name Marie?”

“No, it’s y/n and who told you that?” Light agitation was heard in your voice.

“The bartender.”

“ Joe?! I’m going to kill that asshole! Telling my business like that. You can’t trust everybody.” Steve laughed at your outrage.

“Anything else he told you?”

“Just that you have a man back home.” He noticed that you winced at his answer.

“Had… had a man. He was never my man, just liked to say that he was. See, I used to live in Ohio and there was this guy that liked me but I didn’t like him very much. Our parents insisted we get married. I felt so pressured. They said ‘It would be good for the families to join’. They treated it like a business deal so I left the day before the wedding.”

“Have you ever gone back?”

“No… I do miss my family, and I wrote home telling them that I was doing good. Thriving from singing and what not, but they never… wrote back.”

“You’re fearless.” Steve was convinced.

“No… I’m not, but you damn sure are! Trying to go to the army. If you don’t mind me asking…How come you aren’t in it then?”

“I failed the physical exams,” Steve huffed. You could tell it was a tough thing he had to deal with most of his life.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm.”

“No you’re fine. I promise.” Steve reassured.

“What are you gonna do then?”

“Try again tomorrow... Let me take you home, don’t want you to catch a chill.” You laughed, cause little did he know that it was too late.

As the cab pulled up to your place you reached into your clutch to pay but Steve handed the cabby the fair before you got a chance to.

“You didn’t—“ He exited out the door before you could finish. Steve came to your side, opened the door for you and grabbed your hand gently.

“I wanted to.” Those icy blues now half-lidded and heavy. They felt so intense on you, unwavering, wanting. You couldn’t hold the stare anymore. You looked down at the pavement and noticed a crack in between you too. It was faint, not deep enough to cause any issues yet but left unfixed it would become a real problem. Your thoughts were stunted when you felt his hand on your chin lifting it softly, resuming the stare down you ran from.

A honk broke the tension filled gaze and you both looked at the cab driver.

“Move over so I can drive! I’m trying to get home.” You couldn’t help but to laugh.

“We’re so sorry sir, get home safe.“

_______

“I had a great time with you tonight.”

“I did too.”

“Thank you for teaching me to dance.”

“You could always dance, you just need someone to dance with.” You reassured.

“Next Saturday?”

“Next Saturday.”

Good night y/n.”

“Good night Steve.”

_______

“Where are you headed?” Bucky inquired as Steve waved down a cab.

“Onyx, I got to see my lady.”

“Marie? It’s been so long. She probably moved on.”

“God I hope not.”

Steve looked up at the sign, remembering that night fondly. He replayed it over and over while he was away. Thinking of your sweet scent, bright smile, brown eyes, and your voice. Most nights he willed his brain to replicate your singing. Forced it to remember how your hips swayed that night. If he slept hard enough, he would dream of you. It was the same dream, you two swaying gently while he held you, his hands feeling the curve of your waist and the arch of your back. Your gentle sighs as he pulled you ever so close, holding you as tight as he could cause he always knew that when he woke, you wouldn’t be there.

“You coming?” Bucky had the door open waiting for him. Steve walked in with his ID in hand but the bouncer never asked for it. Just gave him a nod for him to continue on inside.

Steve sat by the bar waiting for you to grace the stage as Bucky mingled.

“Drink man?” A young man asked, replacing the older man from before.

“No, I’m good. Thank you.” It was no use really, Steve couldn’t get drunk anymore. The serum prevented it, but Steve never liked to drink anyway.

The fluffer jazz music came to a halt as a man wearing a dark blue zoot suit walked to the middle of the stage. He wrapped the mic around his hand and inhaled deep.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! She needs no introduction. Yet, I’m here. She’s who you are all here to see! From being a Saturday night regular to touring the world! She came back home to bless us once more… MADAME Marie!”

Steve felt sweat beading at his temples and his palms becoming clammy. He was itching to see you. And there you were entering with so much grace. A true regal beauty not aging a day with the same radiant smile. Your once short curls were longer, rolled and pinned in the front with your waves reaching your shoulders. You wore a simple diamond jewelry set and a gold sequined dress that stopped at the ankles. The bodice was cut seductively low, and the sides were cinched at your waist. Your cleavage threatened to spill as you walked to the mic.

The play on modest and temptress had Steve looking away to calm the constant rise in his temperature.

“Drink please!” Steve urged the bartender.

“Pick your poison.”

“Strongest thing you got.” It was brown, whatever he poured. Steve knocked it back and winced at the taste. He prayed that the serum didn’t get in the way of the buzz he was seeking.

“Beautiful people of Harlem! How are y’all doing?… Good! I’m so glad. You know there’s nothing like being home. I think about y’all every time I sing… like old times I’m gonna be singing some Lady Day… Do y'all mind? I know y’all don’t…”

Up in Harlem every Saturday night…

Gimme a Pigfoot and a Bottle of Beer played and you sang and felt your heart swell. You missed being in Harlem with your people. Seeing everyone dance, sing, and mingle just had you smiling from ear to ear. You scanned the crowd the best you could despite the bright lights they installed while you were away. You saw Bucky dancing and your heart lurched. Where there was Bucky, there was Steve. You finished the song but tried your hardest to not get distracted at the thought. He’s away. Nowhere close.

The crowd cheering bounced off the walls. They loved you and you loved them.

“Brief intermission. I got some catching up to do… but I’m not done!” You headed off the stage after excusing yourself and went straight for Bucky.

“Barnes!” He made eye contact with you immediately upon hearing his name.

“Marie, baby you look amazing as always, sound amazing as always. How was touring?”

“Great, really. Little tiring but you know… How was the war?”

“Tiring, but you know.” He smiled his shit-eating grin. You wanted to ask about Steve and he knew but wanted you to break first. You sat in silence while staring him down. If looks could kill Bucky would be six feet under.

“Where is he?” You demanded.

“Go easy on him. He’s fragile.”

“Fragile my ass. Where is he?”

That shit eating grin, again. He held this look but shortly nodded to the bar.

“Thank you!” You stomped away towards the bar. But you didn’t see Steve. Plenty of men in uniform and zoot suits but not the five foot nothing man you knew in a button-up. Maybe he left. Didn’t want to see him no way. You waved over the bartender but on his way to you he stopped in front of a six foot something man in uniform. The blonde cut looked familiar from the back but it couldn’t be. It was generic so you dismissed it.

“Another sir?”

“No, I'm good for now. Thank you.”

That profile was something you couldn’t ignore. The bridge of his nose was the same and so was the slight crease of his brows. He looked down at his empty glasses and you stared at him. Thinking about when you first met him at this same bar.

“Madame, Can I help you? It's on the house.” That shook you out of your thoughts.

“Marie?” Damn that voice and the person it came from. You left the bar as quickly as you could.

“Wait! Marie, wait.” You didn’t look back making a beeline for your dressing room.

“Y/n!” You stopped in your tracks and turned slowly. You felt your body heat from your head to your toes. If you were fair-skinned, you’d be red. He looked beefier, healthier, taller… he was a soldier after all. Yet he stood sheepishly, seeing that you were mad. The icey blues did nothing to cool your anger. You advanced towards him and the height difference felt strange. You weren’t used to looking up at him. Looking at the medals on his uniform only fueled your fire.

“I’m-“ what you assume is an apology was cut short by the loud snap of your palm making contact with his smooth shaven face. The people closest to the scene were confused and grew quiet. Steve was standing all shook up while holding his red cheek.

“You have no right!” You pointed and stared deep into his eyes, before storming on stage.

“Play Bye-Bye!” You shouted at the band. They started to play immediately. You were heated and needed him to know it. You gripped the mic and bore your eyes into his head.

Don’t look surprised

You know you’ve buttered your bread so it’s fair that you should stare at the back of my head.

Steve saw how your eyes were set ablaze. The crease between your brows was deep. You had a scowl that could kill.

Bucky made his way to Steve after watching the scene from afar.

“She’ll come around…” Bucky tapped his shoulder in assurance.

So baby, it’s au revoir

Adios, ciao, ciao, goodbye

You belted, with everything in you. Feeling your chest heaved as you hit the last note. You dropped the mic and walked off into your dressing room.

“Eventually.” Bucky whispered.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #1940s #black reader #black female characters #music #Themthereeyes #SoundCloud #Spotify

[syntheticavenger]

new rules - fourteen

Has it really been a year since I wrote for this fic? Sheesh!

As a reminder, I no longer have a tag list. Please follow @synths-library​ - that is where I reblog my new content!

word count: 2.5K

warnings: 18+ ONLY. Language, mentions of regicide, mentions of violence, angst, mentions of cheating (not on the Reader), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), talks of virginity and sexuality.

prince! steve rogers x princess reader

amazing moodboard by @pictures-inmy-mind | divider by @firefly-graphics​

new rules masterlist

summary | done with his daughter’s antics, a king makes a decree that she will marry one of his king’s guards, whether she wants to or not.

Grace peers outside, the handwritten letter crushed in her hand, aware of the person standing behind her.

“Are you here to give me your apologies?” Her voice is controlled, even as she feels herself losing the battle with her composure.

“Would it make it better?” 

Your father stands behind her, eyes focusing on the letter in her hand. Grace lifts her head higher, breathing in deeply, her back to him still.

“No. I’d much prefer you tell me that you told me so. Do you believe this is the best course of action? Removing a queen from her kingdom?”

“Better than her being dragged out by her husband’s mistress and his bastard son.”

Her breath catches in her throat at his words, the letter fluttering to the ground. Her forehead presses against the glass, her exhale fogging up the window.

“I always thought that I did everything right. I followed the rules to the letter, Father. I gave up what I wanted for a title. A marriage that joined our two kingdoms together because I was the oldest and I needed to set an example. I have always been the golden child and now, because of a scandal, I have to leave everything I’ve gained? Do you not see how insulting that is for me? For my girls? I wanted a life of my own and I almost had that once but this… this was my duty and I did it.”

“Do you not trust your father? It is for the best.”

“The best for whom?” Grace whirls around, tears in her eyes. “For your precious other daughters? The ones who share your very blood?”

“This is not what this is about. It is about the strength of our family, despite the circumstances you have found yourself in. You are my daughter, through and through. If I did not have the amount of love for you that I have had since I laid eyes on you, since the moment I knew your mother was going to have you, I would not be standing here to help you out of this scandal.”

“It is his scandal to bear! Not mine!”

“Then you will never understand what it means to be a queen. Nor will you ever understand the amount of slander and libel that will be lobbied in your direction once they hear he has decided to move in his new family. I will handle this, make no mistake, my child. For when you hurt, I hurt. When my family is broken, I will exact revenge, I promise you that. I promise my granddaughters the same. You will move from this house, to Codmare Cottage with the girls.”

“Father, I -”

“Now, Grace. I will have your things packed up but you must go.”

Sniffling, Grace pushes past her father, leaving him to pick up the letter and examine it, before he lowers his head in dismay.

Thor peeks in on Brunn, her weapons laid out on the counter, freshly cleaned and repaired. Without even turning around, she places her hands on the counter.

“What do you want?”

“There’s a briefing in a little. Queen Grace is heading to Codmare within the next few hours.”

“Noted,” Brunn says quietly. “Anything else?”

“Yes.”

She turns to look over her shoulder, Thor swallowing hard at the sight of her. She’s never cried before in front of him, let alone show any emotion but he can see her teeth running over her lower lip, as if she wants to say something.

“Will you be assisting her?” Brunn asks him.

Thor shakes his head at her question.

“No. She will be assigned to Sam. I told you, Brunnhilde, it was in the past.”

“So that makes it okay?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Thor answers her, taking a step inside. “I want you to understand that just because it’s the past doesn’t mean I turn my back on it. It isn’t a closed door, something that remains off limits. It won’t be until I can make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me?” Brunn scoffs, nodding her head in disbelief. “Does she know that you’re finished? That you can just walk away like it never happened? Does she know about you and her younger sister?”

“She knows I’m finished,” Thor responds. “I let her know in the best way I could. I’m sorry, Brunnhilde. I can sit with these feelings that I have, the feelings I have for you and reconcile that what I’ve done was wrong and that I have hurt you. I know that.”

“Good,” Brunn shoots back, turning her back on him. “Then you’ll know me well enough that I need to be alone.”

“I do. Sam will be around in an hour or so to settle in and get information. I’ve told him to come to you if you have any questions on what she would require.”

“Where will you be?”

“On a task.”

When she can no longer feel him behind her, Brunn exhales a breath, focusing on the weapons on the table in front of her.

“I’m not supposed to be here, you know,” Steve says against your forehead, your eyes closing at the feel of his arms around you. “Your father would have my head for this.”

“Would he?” you whisper, nuzzling his beard before kissing him. “I believe this is your proper place.”

“Not yet,” he purrs against your neck. “Though your pictures did you no justice when I see you in person, you brat.”

His fingers slip between your legs, his fingers inching up inside you.

“I can’t tell what you like better,” he wonders, your back arching slightly when his lips kiss your collarbone. “Earlier it was my mouth… maybe it’s both?”

“Maybe.” You shiver, feeling him move down lower, his hands seemingly everywhere and nowhere all at once, enough to make you dizzy with how he knows just where to touch, where to kiss that you’re uncertain that he doesn’t have a map of your body somewhere.

Or, he’s just that good, something your brain realizes, shutting down the jealous response that threatens to rear its ugly head. None of that matters now, not when he’s spent the weekend in your bed, teaching you new things and learning what you like, stopping short of giving you what you truly want. Lia has made it seem like heaven and earth but you’re not sure if it could be better than his hands.

“S-Steve,” you keen, your thighs in his hands, his tongue dipping into your entrance.

“Hmm?”

“Oh my god,” you pant, Steve nipping at the sensitive skin.

“It’s Steve,” he teases before his fingers find a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

King Adam opens the door to his office, a man sitting in his chair, looking up in surprise.

“Ah, King Adam,” the tall, slender man purrs with a smile and nod. “Lovely to see you in the flesh.”

“I must say that you are bold. Last time I heard news of you, it was that you were locked away, awaiting a trial, was it? I don’t think King Joseph takes kindly to one kidnapping a princess, lest it be one that is in the sights of his prodigal son.”

“A mere piece of a puzzle, I assure you, Your Majesty,” Loki responds with a grin. “Though I assure you that no trial can hold me. I created the narrative for Brokelen and I simply do not any longer.”

“They know you as a traitor to the crown.”

“And you know me as a keeper of your secrets,” Loki reminds him. “Or at least, I was, until you decided to think with your other head. How do you think your people will take your mistress? Your bastard son? To install them into the palace is quite bold, Your Majesty. Some may say foolish.”

“What I do is my business. My wife is frigid, a bastard of her own name. What is another?”

“Precisely why I am here. You tell me what you know and I will craft your relationship into a more… palatable story.”

“You’re a wanted man.”

“And you’re about to be a disgraced king. Which will it be? Lose what little respect you have on the world stage or keep your secret.”

“Grace knows already.”

“So she does. Banished to Codmore Cottage, I believe. The family is doing its own damage control. Not that I can blame them. She’s done much to bring shame to her family.”

“So have you,” King Adam sneers. “You’re worse than I am.”

“No, Your Majesty. We are simply cut from the same cloth. I’m slightly tailored better than you, of course. It’s quite simple. I want Brokelen to fall and you want to keep your secret from getting out. We can come to an accord, I am sure.”

“What is it?”

Loki stands, extending his hand.

“That’s for me to create and for you to follow along. For now, keep your mistress and child where they are. Let me handle the rest.”

King Adam shakes it, Loki nodding.

“Lay low,” Loki instructs. “Not a peep out of you, Your Majesty, until I say so.”

The door opens for Grace, a handsome man standing at the door, offering his hand. There are no photographers, no paparazzi yelling her name. Only the sound of the water fountain in the background, the crunch of her heels on the gravel when she finally stands.

Codmore Cottage seems smaller than she remembers, the lights on upstairs as she’s well aware that is where her daughters are. Humiliation hits her when she’s led up the steps, thinking of what she’s left behind.

There’s only so much emotion one can keep inside, the door opening to the well decorated space. This is where she will call home until she can find a suitable replacement, even if her father has told her that it may take a while. It feels surreal to know she’s removed from a place that she once only dreamed about, only to have it cruelly stolen from her.

This man that introduces himself to her as Sam isn’t Thor, the comfort she once sought out but now knows will never happen again.

He said it himself in writing.

Perhaps the apology was a deathblow to her pride, Thor putting an explanation to paper as to why it was and always had been a mistake. Through his words, she can tell that someone else is on his mind, one that cannot compare to her – though it sounds like he doesn’t want to even begin to try. 

“Your aides will be here tomorrow,” Sam reminds her gently, Grace simply nodding at his words. “Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?”

“I want to be alone.”

“Of course. I’ll be outside if you need.”

Once the door closes, Grace lets herself cry, ripping off the wedding ring from her finger and throwing it against the wall in a fit of anger, covering her mouth to keep from crying.

Exiled.

It’s a heavy word, one that she repeats over and over until she can’t hold it in any longer. Her lapses in judgment ended as quickly as they had come. You would never have to endure such a thing, such a rampant disrespect as she.

Neither would Lia.

Speaking to the press is forbidden, something Grace knows is completely off limits and yet she yearns to tell her side of the story, to accuse her husband of the same cruelty that she has inflicted on her own family.

So much to say and no one to say it to that will listen.

“Mother?” comes the voice of one of the girls. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Grace answers quickly. “Stay upstairs, my angels. I’ll be up in a moment.”

Patting her pocket, she realizes that she doesn’t have Thor’s letter, her panicked thoughts sending her toward the foyer to search through her purse.

Steve knocks on the door to your father’s office. It’s early enough for him to know that there is no one else there to answer as his aides aren’t up until another hour.

“Come in,” your father instructs from the other side, Steve opening the door and closing it behind him.

“Your Majesty,” Steve says with a bow of his head.

“This is formal,” your father says with a hint of curiosity in his voice. “And early.”

“I’ve come to tell you that I’m heading out to Brokelen. There’s a threat. Loki escaped his cell and fled.”

“My God,” your father mutters. “What do you need?”

“That’s not why I’m here. I can handle Loki on my own. I’ve come for another matter.”

“Oh?”

Steve places a box on the table, your father looking up at him.

“I want to marry her, Your Majesty. I don’t care where, quite honestly. I just… I know what I feel, former agreements notwithstanding. I would like your permission.”

Your father stands up, pushing the chair back.

“Then you shall have it, my son.”

Steve nods, your father handing him the ring box.

“You must promise me one thing,” your father continues.

“Anything, Your Majesty.”

“You will never crush her spirit the way I did once. Let her be wild, let her be herself. In that, she will be your greatest gift.”

“Of course,” Steve says, emotion overwhelming him for a moment. “Always.”

You catch Steve leaving your father’s office, following him silently as he heads outside, taking in the first sight of dawn.

“Are you leaving me again?” you ask, Steve’s shoulders slightly dropping at your question.

“For a little.”

“Why?”

“Because there is unfinished business I need to complete.”

“Loki,” you reply with a nod of your head. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Steve asks you, his head turning toward you.

“I do. Whatever you must do, I trust you to return.”

“Trust or order?”

“Order,” you reply, your head held high. “There’s much I haven’t learned yet.”

“Is that only what I am to you, Princess?” Steve cups your face in his hands. “Or more?”

“A lady never tells.”

“You tell me so much without words.”

He winks at you, making you laugh before you hold him closer.

“Do you promise to make it back in one piece?”

“I can’t promise that. I couldn’t keep you safe, myself.”

Reaching up behind you, you unclasp your necklace, letting it fall into his hands.

“What did they used to call it in the old times? A favor?” you tell him, closing your hand over his. “You keep it safe until you come back and I promise to be on my best behavior.”

“I’ll have a surprise for you when I return.”

You nod, reaching up to pull down his collar to kiss him.

“I love surprises.”

James opens the door to see Brunn standing in front of him, tossing him a bag that he catches square in his chest.

“Where’s the fight?”

“No fight yet,” Brunn says, turning on her heels. “But we’re going to find King Adam. I have an inkling he knows what’s to come.”

“Does Steve know?”

Brunn continues walking, giving a signal to the Valkyrie that are waiting, rounding the corner while James follows.

“Who do you think sent me?”

“You realize that King Adam probably has his army guarding him wherever he is.”

James looks at the contingent of guards that are waiting, their commander in front of them as he nods at Brunn.

“Then it’s a good thing I know exactly where to find him,” Thor answers him.

#modern royalty au #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers x woc female reader #thor odinson #brunnhilde #loki

[dyinglikenarcissus]

Stripped Naked

So I wrote this for @ramp-it-up Love you 3000 celebration but it was quickly getting too long 😅 so I scrapped it but I started rereading it and it was good. It has a similar theme as Stripped but it's a completely different story. If you have a problem with it, throw me in jail for plagiarizing myself. Also I couldn't think of another name so its just Stripped Max Pro *new* 2c (but not a sequel)

Anyway, we’ve been here before: Stripper Steve meets are innocent virgin reader and has to win her over

Warnings: 18+ only! Contains: Virgin reader, stripping, alcohol, vaginal intercourse, a couple consenting adults having a good time. It’s pretty vanilla but sometimes all you want is vanilla

You know the deal: Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated ☺️

I give you Stripped Naked

Part I

Part II

Part III

Master List

#Steve Rogers x black female reader #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Roger x black reader #steve rogers smut #Steve Rogers Fic #Stripper!Steve Rogers #Virgin!reader

[iamsofabulous]

ari levinson and his extremely spoiled gf

reblogs are appreciated! feel free to use this as inspo for your fics! <3

requests are open! ୨୧

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[neonovember]

Bourbon Decision’s

Steve Rogers mafia!au

summary: In light of your reappearance in New York, Steve makes a decision that begins the road to the relationship between you both. And you, begin to remember some familiar faces.

warnings; mentions of death, murder, angst and violence

a/n: so, this chapter gave us a little bit of a back story on how the reader ends ups in Brooklyn, and who her husband truly is. Your girl is a fighter! More parts coming soon…

The cursive lettering burns a hole through your chest, the edges cracked and plastered as you shove accusation down into your pocket. It almost feels poisonous, like simply touching it will make him come around the corner, reminding you that you would never be alone, that you were never going to escape him.

You’re able to hide your shaking hands from Caroline, who takes your silence as simple exhaustion, you fill ill, the bile rises from your throat and you pinch your arm to stop yourself from gagging.

You’re able to conceal your emotions well, your entire life and marriage has been holding up a mask, it was a dance that was all you knew, and all you would ever thank him for.

“You alright there sugar” Caroline looks towards you, eyes filled with concern and she takes notice of your wobbly legs. She reaches with a hand to steady you, but you ignore it, holding onto the granite counter, forcing your downturn eyes to look up at Caroline, you straighten your back.

“Yep, fine, I just need to use the restroom” You reply catatonically, a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes has Caroline looking at you even more strangely.

You turn down the hall, passing David, his auburn black bun bopping to the tunes chirping out of a beaten-up purple stereo he gaggled a 17-year-old in exchange for a pack of Marlboros.

The smells of bacon grease and butter that causes the insatiable monster taking camp in your stomach to growl now has you running into the staff bathroom, the door slamming behind you as you dry heave the entire contents of your breakfast.

Wiping the spit falling from your mouth you turn on the tap, scrubbing your face clean and running a wet hand across your hair. The reflection staring back at you looks nothing like the woman just mere hours ago, a woman who thought she had escaped the biggest tormentor in her life, a woman who thought she was finally free. This woman, the one whose eye bags now seem deeper than before, whose skin looks dull and pulled across her body like skin on bone is bound and shackled by the haunted past that never seemed to wretch its fingers off of her.

Each time she thinks she has a chance at life, the chain wrapped around her neck tightens, and it pulls her back until she's dislocated and bruised. It shakes her violently and spits in her face, laughing and cackling, staring down at her in disgust because how could she have been so stupid? So foolishly naive?

You don't escape men like her husband, you just end up dead.

An overwhelming desire engulfs you, the need to survive and flee fills you strong, and for a second you glance at the back door that leads to the alleyway hidden from the main road. You've got enough cash on you to skip town, maybe hunker down in a dingy yellow motel for a bit until you feel

But what's the point? There was no plan B for what you did, your escape itself was a fucking plan B, and your head is still pounding from the success of it. You had gotten lucky, for the first time in your life, you had gotten lucky. You wouldn't get this chance again, this was it for you. Skipping town would do nothing, but prolong the inevitable, there were no steps ahead with the men you knew, at least let you die with your dignity.

You can't help but laugh at your stupidity, it racks through your body and has you bent over, gripping your stomach, before your shoulder shudders with cracked sobs, a hand muffles your wails as you run the tap, the last you wanted was for adiora to hear you.

You were just so exhausted your body weighed down with the fatigue and stress of your escape, the bruises and injuries you've accumulated over the years that never fully healed took a toll on you. You'd never gone a day without seeing how your body would look without the yellows and purples colliding, some ragged and large while others were small and deliberate. It made you walk funny, your manager had asked if it was a limp, if you'd be able to waitress with all the walking it included, you rushed to tell her it was nothing, just a fall that didn't heal right.

You needed this job, and youd do anything to get it

Caroline had told you you could get benefits for it, to help with rent and supplies, you smiled and told her you'd look into it, you didn't think it would be appropriate to tell her it was years of abuse.

Could the government pay you for that? Or would you be met with an officer at your door ready to drag you back to your husband because of course he had the governor on speed dial and the NYPD in his front pocket?

A tiny bubble of anger begins to set place in your chest, how dare he? He didn't even want you, the nights he’d bring home countless women told you enough. Why did he so adamantly want you then? Keep you chained and locked in the palm of his hand? 

You've seen the other marriages in this line of work which were much like yours, transactional and strictly business. Except most of them had an agreement, you have yours and I have mine. Show up like you both are in love, clutching onto each other and keeping your lovers to the side.

Not him though, no, he wanted it all, you think he craved the power it gave him, to see you at his feet below him, your escape was the one time you felt like you had gotten him beat. You knew it wouldn't last long but damn did it feel good.

That man with golden hair looked at you so strangely, like he knew you from long ago, you'd shaken the sense of familiarity from your mind before it even began. This was New York, not Washington, no one knew you here. You were just a face, like any other, so why did he look at you like the sight of you broke him? 

The fact of the matter was, your husband was an unstable lunatic who fed off the fear of others, he’d probably shot a few women who even slightly resembled you during the time since your escape, so why didn't that man drag you out of the diner and into one of your husband-marked vehicles? 

There was only one explanation, one you couldn't bring yourself to entertain, but it still remained in the back of your mind, next to the hopes and dreams you had for yourself at 13. 

The sounds of your name being screeched from the counter can be heard echoing towards you, the diner was horribly understaffed and don’t doubt that there is a mountain of things that needed to be completed since your meltdown.

You need this job, you were not about to lose it.

So just like the years you have been trained, you shove the impending emotions down your stomach, straighten your back, and practice your smile before slamming the staff door behind you.

It’s well past 11 when you finally finish cleaning up after the last of the patrons that exited the diner, the moon was cloaked behind deep grey clouds, providing little light to your walk home. David had offered you a ride, but you had declined quickly, the thoughts circling your mind would be too loud for a car ride. You didn't like walking home, especially this late at night, but you had no choice. You would not want to incapacitate someone else's day, especially now with a target on your back.

The flickering street lights provide a tiny sliver of direction to the beaten path cracked with concrete and dirt. A loud truck filled with men slowed as they neared you, you kept your head down, fingers pressed into your palm as you tried to avoid any confrontation. They screamed obscenities, before zooming past you, the smell of burnt tire lingering behind them.

There was a shortcut to your apartment complex, though the back alleyways were hidden from the main street, and you made a sharp turn to follow the insecure path through the suburban houses. It doesn't take long before you notice the unmarked car following shortly behind you, just a few streets back, enough to not look conspicuous but still get a clear view of you.

You tense, unsure of what to do, you push your house keys between your fingers, silently praying to god that it wasn't him. And it seems that god is on your side today, as the car pulls into a dark street, leaving you breathless and releasing your grip on your keys.

You don't waste any time running the rest of the way until the dingy apartment complex comes into view, your neighbour, a sweet middle-aged lady whose smile never quite reached her eyes and who let you use her gas was screaming at her son, a cigarette hanging from his mouth in open shock.

You smiled to yourself as you passed them, he looked towards you with raised eyebrows, pleading for some support. You weren't about to tell her how to raise her kid, she looked even more exhausted than you.

Jimming the door handle a couple times, you finally shoulder your way into the safety of your small but safe apartment. The soft caramel walls were chipped away at the edges, and the wallpaper was peeling but it was home. It was the closest thing to something that was yours, and only yours. 

You quickly made yourself some time, to help calm the storm beginning to write inside your mind again, you hated coffee, it left you jittering and cold and you just wanted to sleep at this point.

After jumping into the shower, your waitressing clothes left sweaty and seeped with oil in the basket you finally found the solace of your cold bed. You invested good money into a solid mattress and covers, and it payed of by the softness and ease that engulfed you. 

You reached for the book left on the side table, its spine broken in and countless stains and markings left on its pages. You had never gotten the chance to read, you'd been told it was a useless waste of time that could instead be used for more important things.

Now though, with the threat of your safety looming around the corner, you felt you needed to finish every book you started, in fear you mightn't ever again.

Your mind, however, was running 50 miles an hour and it so happened to find him, golden boy, again. He looked so different from the henchmen of your husband. They were all short and stoic, egregious muscles bursting through tight shirts, fingers dirty with blood and sin. They all had that hungry insatiable expression, like rapid dogs, they salivated every time they were given a task, to murder, to steal, to torture. 

One particular night, when you left down the hall to the section of the house you weren't permitted to enter, the blood-curdling screams and moans followed by their laughter had you bolting out, they heard you anyway, and your husband had forced you to watch.

You just needed scissors.

This man though, his eyes shone with a different kind of darkness. One possibly more intricate and deeper than the sleazy men near your husband, and, it should have scared you. But it didn't, it pulled you closer like you wanted to dip your foot in and see how far it went. The sense of familiar you'd refused to feel filled you once again, a part of your mind was screaming at you, itching and shoving its fingers between bordered wood to get you to see.

Shaking your head you flicked to the dog-eared page, one thing you knew about the world you were married into, was all the men were obsessed with one thing, power and money, and they'd do anything to get it.

All of them.

The brown liquid sloshes against the ice as steve raises it to his lips, finishing it with one gulp. The familiar burn of liquor eases the tension in his shoulder, as he leans against the mahogany desk, hands folded against his chest.

“All I’m saying is that we have to act fast and we have to act now, every day that passes is another risk to the dominion, he's getting more and more erratic by the day” Sam murmurs, sitting on the plush velvet coach situated to the left of the expansive office, the high ceiling lights cast a glow across the room that does little to ease the tension.

Steve rubs his jaw, scratching at the stubble that has begun to grow, he's gotten so busy that he'd forgotten to shave. Steve’s mind is scattered, bits and pieces here and there, Sam was right, Matthews was getting even more unstable than he ever was, killing mercilessly without a second thought, leaving finger prints and blood and bodies. Sooner or later, he’d get the entire underworld exposed if he kept up with this.

“I know, I know, I just- I need to think” Steve begins, before Bucky interrupts quickly, his eyes roam Steve, squinting as he notices something off.

“It’s different this time, Matthews, it’s more than just his greed and psychotic tendencies, he’s lost something. And I have a feeling you know exactly what it is”. Bucky replies, eyebrows raising and he looks towards Steve.

Sam looks up rapidly, a grim look on his features as he takes in Steves silence

“Steve…what is it?” Sam replies, Steve was apprehensive to reply, eyes shutting for a few minutes, mind racking over the moments before, when he found you. Selfishly, in a way, he wanted to keep you hidden, a secret only he knew, but Sam and Bucky knew him long enough where they’d eventually find out.

“You know Matthews wife” Steve begins, Sam and Bucky lean in closer as they take in Steves tighten jaw and deep seated anger behind his eyes. Steve was a man of decorum, he’d rarely show his true anger, always hidden behind canine smiles and wolf like hunger, he was precise and meticulous with his rage. It’s what made him so powerful.

“The girl from your home town?, The quite one right?” Sam replies, confusion covering his features as he tries to connect the picture Steve was sewing in front of them.

His cracks as he remembers you, before Matthews and before he stamped out the light that always shone through your eyes, the oblivious innocence you carried that seemed to suck him in and ruin him for anybody else.

“Yeah, yeah, that one” Steve coughs before straightening his back 

“Poor girl, I heard she didn’t even get a say, just woke up one morning with his claws in her. I haven't seen her in any of the charity fundraisers in a long time” Bucky says, hands running through his jet black hair as he recalls your frequent absence. It was strange, most men would flaunt their wives anytime they’d get the chance, especially one as gorgeous as you. Not Matthews though, he acted as if you were invisible, a burden, like a mother running after her petulant child. As if he wasn't the one that gave you no choice but to marry him.

“She's gone” Steve spits out, his golden locks fall to his face as he quickly pushes them behind his ear, no one else knew of your absence, besides your husband and him, you were still behind the shadows of his wrath. Now the shoe had dropped and it was real, you’d really gone and done it, you’d escaped him.

“What do you mean Steve, your telling me that girl escaped one of the ruthless mob bosses in Northern America? The one with all the guns and men and fucked up morality? The one who’s murdered teenagers?” Sam emphasis in open shock, moving to get up from the sofa and walk closer to Steve.

“I dont know when, I don’t even know how, but she got out” Steve says, a sudden urge to see you again fills him, he shakes it away quickly before it consumes him whole and ruins him.

“Holy shit, she really did it. She’s got some fucking balls” Bucky says, eyes widening as he comes to terms with the fact that you may not have been as innocent as they once thought.

“But, if shes out...she knows what will happen to her now? As much as I hate Matthews, he brought her immunity and protection, especially one from a family like hers, now-, now she’s a walking target.” Sam says it was inevitable, the mafia world wouldnt allow for such treachery, for such betrayal.

“Open fucking season” Bucky continues, eyes strained behind Steve towards the frosted window of the office. The planes of concrete fields stretch endlessly, the smoke of vehicles and Nee Yorks smoking problem floating through the deep grey clouds.

What was your endgame?

The question circles Bucky’s mind, he was always searching for an answer, a causation, and right now you had him stumped. Funny.

Steve nods, nocking his leather dress shoes against each other, loyalty ran thicker than blood in this world of theirs, and what you had committed was worse their murder.

“She disappears I know, trust me I do, probably ends up at the bottom of the Hudson at best, and at worst..” Steve says

He didn’t need to continue for them both to understand. Eyes failing to wince as they had grown use to the brutality of the mafia.

“But, I talked to her, earlier today, down by Brooklyn” Steve begins to say before both Bucky and Steve interrupt him quickly

“You talked to her?! Jesus, Steve, this has got to be a fucking joke, because I know the man infront of me. And he would be as insane as to talk to a mafia’s wife, let alone the king of the dominion. Hell, even being near her would count as a death wish” Bucky replies, eyebrows furrowed as the shock of Steve’s recklessness hung in the air.

“We can’t afford an attack right now, especially one from someone as psychotic as him and his lunatics” Sam reiterates, unsure what had gotten into their usually calculated and cunning friend.

“Listen dammit”, Steve grumbles, hands flying around him

“If I get her to share some information about Matthews in return for safety, we’ll be able to get ahead, plan an attack before he even registers she’s back in New York”

“Back, she was here before?” Sam questions, confusion filling his usual stoic features

“She was here a couple years back, something happened, bad, and since it’s Matthews you know it had to have been some extraordinarily catastrophic shit” Steve murmurs, eyes far away as if he’s mind was back all those years. His fist tighten involuntarily, and he quickly reminds himself to relax before they take notice of his sudden anger.

“No one knows what happened, not Santiago, not even Brock. All we know is that he changed after that, became way worse. Before, at least he could keep a handle on it, after what happened though, it’s like he’s wishing for a reason to rage”. Steve continues, Bucky and Sam nod following him, they had all noticed the shift in Matthews behaviour, even more drastic then, the entire underworld whispered behind masks and glistens of pistols about the mafia don and his mental breakdown.

“Your asking her to commit treason then?” Sam quakes, hand pressing into the deep wood of the chair.

“She already did when she walked out that door, you don’t just make a decision like that, no, not for someone like her. She probably stayed in that decision for days, if not weeks. She knows the risks she took.” Steve informs, arms crossing against his chest, he knew you weren’t as stupid as people thought you were, in fact he knew you better than most people ever would.

You were similar to him in that way, cunning in ways people didn’t realise, always hidden beneath false naivety.

“Well, you sure he’s still out looking for her? How do you know he isn’t pointing a fucking laser at your head right now?” Bucky begins eyes strained to the window again as if looking out for any incoming steel bullets.

Steve remains silent as he hums to himself, a pen between his fingers as he jots down your address on a haphazard note pad.

“Because she would have already been dead by now” He says finally, underlining the street name twice, before clicking it back into the desk drawer. Sam laughs, a hand coming to rest at his chest, the under suit creases at his ministrations and it reminds Steve that he needs to buy one that actually looks good on him.

“You’re one insane mother fucker Steve, I’ll give you that” Sam chuckles at the casualness of the blond’s demeanour.

Steve shoots a smile, a real one, his canines glint and for a second, it’s as if a wolf has taken it’s place over his features. The rosy reds of his cheeks contrast against the sand gold of his hair and suddenly Steve looks younger. Like the cruelty and immorality of the world around him hasn’t taken his soul and left a gaping black hole.

“That’s how we win, it starts with her” Steve replies with finality, his voice refusing any negotiation or persuasion.

It was final, Steve set his eyes on you, and he wouldn’t stop until he got exactly what he wanted.

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[hunterbunter3000]

♡Durability Test♡

Just a lil thot I had today. 18+ mdni This pair you will DEFINITELY see more ♡ please excuse my ass attempt with smut :(

Just thinking about baddie!black!reader doing her own nails again and Steve Rogers is just watching her. It's quite fascinating to see; how she preps her natural nails, how she knows what kind of design she wants, and how she works with that weird sticky gel.

Steve has said many times that he would gladly pay to get them done professionally. But she always retorts with "They never do it the way I want them to, so I just do them myself. Plus, I like it when you watch me." And as always, his heart melts at her wanting to spend time with him, as they rarely have the time to.

Last time it was a baby blue coffin set with clouds, now it's a hot pink stiletto set with gems and glitter. God, Steve loves her creativity.

As she eyes her nails again and flicks some glitter off the tips, she smiles. "Done!"

Steve blinks, his head raises from laying it on the table. "Already? That was pretty fast. Faster than the last set you did." She chuckles. "Yeah well, once you do it for ten years you kinda become a professional." She brings her hands close to his face, her charms jingle on her many gold bracelets. "What do you think? Cute or sexy?" She asks as usual, always wanting her boyfriend's opinion on a new set. Even if she doesn't listen to it sometimes

Steve grins, his big hands caressing her ring clad fingers then kissing her knuckles. "I'd say both. I love the heart gems on them, making it cute. And the form of the nails make it sexy." She preens from his honesty, giggling like a school girl. "Awww, thank you baby! I'm so glad you like them!" She leans over to kiss his cheeks, then his mouth; an action Steve relishes in every time.

"Now I just need to test the durability on these." She says randomly. Steve's eyebrow quirks. She's never said this before. Did she do something wrong on them? They look firm to him. "Test?" He asks, the curiosity looking so adorable on his handsome face. "Test them how?"

"Fuck!" Steve shouts. His voice cracks when he shoots another load inside her.

It was a blur on how they both got here. There were so many kisses and touches from the table to the bedroom. Both of them already naked when they hit the bed. He should've seen the mischievous glint in her eyes when he asked that question.

Now two hours later, sweat drenched the sheets and the air smelled of cocoa butter and sex. Steve's peach colored skin now tinted with red lines from his insatiable girl's new nails. His abs, chest especially chest and carved arms are layered with etches of nail drags. "Baby...baby, please..." Steve whines. His hands digging into her thick hips as she grinds on his over worked cock. She giggles like a drunken sailor. "Almost done, sweetheart... just n-need a little more." Her hands trail up to his neck, feeling his pulse with the pads of her fingers. "You're enjoying this so much, Stevie." She moans out. How could he not? The pain mixed with the overwhelming pleasure of her moans and her movements on his thick cock is making him go dumb. Shannon couldn't even get him to cum half the time He went to say something but was cut off by two things happening at once: 1. Her nails digging into his neck and going down to his nipples 2. Her hot, wet pussy clamping down on him so hard his brain short circuits.

"Oh fuck, yes!" She cries out, feeling his seed overflow in her womb again. Both of their thighs start to tremble from the overstimulation. So full, so fucked. She slowly comes down from her high and peeks at Steve. His eyes rolled in the back of his head with an "o" shaped mouth, small grunts come out of him just like his cum from his dick. She catches her breath and smiles.

"Oh sweetheart, that was perfect. Now turn over. I need to do your back."

#what was this #i dont know #BUT i hope you enjoyed it lol #black reader #avengers x fem!reader #steve rogers #steve rogers filth #capitan america #marvel smut #avengers smut #steve rogers x smut #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x black female reader #black fem reader #chris evans x female reader #fem!reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #drabble #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[infernalodie]

𝐀 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

Inspo: Steve Jablonsky - Tessa

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!reader

Summary: It had always been about the mission. Some where along the way, you found love. But no matter how you felt, the mission came first. That was one thing that you knew Steve would understand in drastic times.

Warnings: Angsty as hell

Words 1769

“Overlord, where are our reinforcements?!”

Energy blasts whizzed past you , smashing into the dilapidated structures around you, with your own rifle rounds being returned and killing a few of the aliens that advanced. Old echoes of Chicago that no longer stood after the surprise invasion of the Chitauri. They’d showed up out of nowhere. Acting on either revenge or their prior mission to conquer your planet. Whatever it was had resulted in the city being on fire, in ruin, and it was far too gone to be saved.

“We’re sending a Quinjet your way, Y/n,” Fury’s voice announced. “Hold on. We’re going to get you out of there.”

From beside you, Clint scoffed as he shot an explosive arrow. It punctured the side of a blown-up vehicle before exploding. Sending the vehicle skidding forward from the force and crushing two Chitauri soldiers against a wall. “Permission to speak freely, sir,” Clint interjected from beside you. “But if that jet doesn’t hurry the hell up, we’re all going to be dead. We need a medevac or something to give us a chance to breathe.”

“Thank you for your input Barton, but we’ve exhausted all our resources evacuating the city,” Fury replied. “All you can do is hold on and let us set up a secondary extraction point.”

The archer grumbled in annoyance, tucking behind the pillar you were crouched behind. Tending to a wounded soldier from your squad. Muttering quiet reassurances that everything was going to be fine and that you were going to get them home. But deep down, you and the Avengers were fighting a losing battle. A bitter truth that you had yet to accept, even when the cards were stacked against you.

Glancing over the pillar, you saw Steve and Natasha fighting hand to hand against the Chitauri soldiers. Tony flying by with missiles coming from the back of his suit and hitting the farthest line of aliens. Creating a sizable dent in their forces that were quickly converging on your location as you watched.

“Steve, we need to fall back,” you called out. “I got a wounded over here and I am not risking his life for a shitty position.”

“She’s not wrong, Cap,” Tony chirped in. “If you guys move through the building behind you, I can blow the front and buy you guys some time. There are some warehouses that you can hunker down in and get set up.”

“Y/n, get your guy out of here,” Steve ordered. “Clint, cover her. Nat and I will be right on your tail.”

With a sigh of relief, you grabbed your soldier's arm and shrugged it over your shoulder. “Just breathe and keep moving, alright?” The soldier, Private Menendez, couldn’t have been older than 21, nodded in with a groan as he shifted to make it easier to be lifted to his feet.

Lifting the man to his feet, you quickly began to jog past the pillars from the front entrance of the building. It was still under construction but telling by how all the Chitauri were moving in on the front, the likelihood of them flanking was lesser. These worked as a hivemind, they followed one person’s directions.

You moved as fast as you could, pained by the cries falling from Menendez’s lips. Clint continued to follow close behind, firing a few arrows with Natasha and Steve following in tow. Soon giving Tony the go-ahead to blow the front. Missiles hit the supports of the structure and soon, the sound of concrete hitting the ground with a loud boom pierced your ears. Deafening your senses for a few moments as you rushed across the destroyed streets and towards the warehouses Tony spoke of.

Entering, you noticed the building to not be too big. It seemed to be a shipping warehouse filled with containers. Your combat boots moved through tiny puddles of water, your footsteps bouncing off the metallic walls as you set down the soldier with a grunt. Sweat beading down your face as you examined his wound. His stomach burnt to a crisp with blood dripping around the edge. The gauze and bandages do very little to stop any of it.

The sound of a door slamming shut got your attention. Turning to find Steve with a cut along his cheek and Natasha with dust covering her body and hair. You rose from your spot and approached the super-soldier. Reaching to your hip and pulling out a small piece of gauze. Pressing it to the wound, feeling his face twitch under the pressure you applied as you taped the edges.

“What are we going to do?” You inquired, glancing behind you to see the rest of the team panting, thankful for the moment to breathe.

For once, Steve didn’t have an answer to give you. He was always the one to have things ready and to always have a plan. But now, with the city gone and your guys’ options dwindling, the dream was dying out.

“I don’t know.”

With a clenched jaw, you turned away and pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Overlord, how are we looking with that extraction?”

“We have an LZ outside the perimeter of the warehouses,” Fury replied. “The Quinjet is moving fast, so your asses better be there.”

“But what about the city, sir?” You exclaimed. “We can’t just let these fuckers get away with taking so much from us?”

“Y/n-” Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, but you slapped it away.

“No!” You yelled. “No, I won’t accept us losing. By the time we’re back at the Hellicarrier, the Chitauri are already going to be moving onto the next city. We have to do something that’ll stop them, permanently.”

“And what do you suggest, Y/n?” Natasha inquired.

You stood there for a moment, silent as you thought. But the look in your eyes, the disparity of the idea that popped in your mind only raised alarm bells in Steve's head. He knew you well-enough to know that you didn’t care what it took. There was no losing when it came to you, it was one thing that he loved about you. Your heart to win the fight is what set you apart from anyone else he’d known. You didn’t have powers or special abilities, but you had heart.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned away from the group. “Fury, I give clearance for Delta-Whiskey-Foxtrot.”

The bitter and brutal silence that fell over the other end of the coms shook you to your core. “Are you sure about that, Y/n?” He asked. “You know there’s no coming back from that.”

“Just do it.” You clenched your jaw, turning back to Steve and the others.

“Preparing Mk-II for launch.”

“Wait, hold on- What the hell did he say?” Tony exclaimed over the other end of the coms.

“She just cleared the launch of a nuclear warhead,” Natasha announced, glancing from Clint to Steve in fear. “It’s coming straight towards Chicago.”

“Y/n, what are you doing?” Steve asked worriedly, feeling his anxiety rise and rise from you muttering under your breath.

“Doing what’s right?” You said. “That’s what this has all been about. I won’t watch any more innocent lives be taken because of these little shits.”

“Then where do you draw the line?”

“You draw the line where you need to, Cap!” Your voice cut sharp like a knife as you glared at the gentle giant. “We get dirty so the world stays clean. That’s the mission. You know that better than anyone else.”

“Quinjet arriving at LZ- ETA 3 minutes.” The Pilot announced.

Pressing against the man, you placed your hand on his chest with a deep sigh. Eyes stinging with fresh tears as you looked up at him with a shake of your head. “Some part of you knows that what I am doing is the right thing,” you whispered. “So, if you love me, you’ll get the hell out of here before that warhead hits the city.”

“And what about you?” Steve asked, catching your arm when you attempted to move past him.

“Uh, guys?” Tony’s voice interrupted. “You might want to get moving. The Chitauri have a fix on your location.”

Pulling your arm from his grip, you forced a bittersweet smile. “I’m going to buy you guys sometime.” The response earned a wave of protests as you shook your head. “I’m going to buy you guys sometime. Get to the LZ and get out of the range of the blast. I don’t need to die knowing one of you silly fucks decided to try and play the hero.”

They all didn’t at all looked to be in agreement, but from the harsh look you sent their way, they relented sorrowfully. Natasha taking some hand grenades from Menendez and handing them to you. Giving you one bittersweet smile as she helped Clint carry the soldier away. Leaving Steve and you in a dreadful silence as he inhaled deeply.

“I love you.”

Your lips trembled, but you exhaled heavily. Forcing another one of those strong smiles of yours and nodding. “Right back at your, tiger.”

With reluctance, Steve jogged away, shield tight in his grasp. Glancing back when you kicked open the door the way they came in and started shooting. And the further he got to the slowly descending Quinjet, he could see you using a shipping container as cover. Watching him with a tearful smile as you prepped a frag before tossing it behind you, blowing up some of the Chiaturi troops.

He stood at the edge of the ramp as the Quinjet took off. The muzzle flashes of your rifle are able to be seen, along with the explosions of your grenade. The crackling of gunfire was louder than any of the blasts from the Chituari’s weapons. Until there was a cloud of smoke and a loud boom that followed right after.

Steve’s eyes flickered around the scene that was growing smaller and smaller in panic. “Y/n?” He called out. “Y/n, are you there?”

All he received was radio static as he watched onward as the nuclear warhead flew through the sky and hit the centre of Chicago. The infrastructure tumbling to the ground and being sent flying as a large mushroom cloud blossoms. The shockwave swept across the small radius and destroyed everything in sight before there was nothing left.

Your body, soul, and mind are lost in it, yet forever imprinted on that barren wasteland. If only Steve was given a chance to experience more of you when he could.

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[geminixevans-stan]

Time Stands Still Master List

Main

Part 1

Drabbles

Fix It | One Chance

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