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#captain marvel one shot
beyondspaceandstars · 5 months
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Relationship Quizzes
Relationship: Carol Danvers x Reader Warnings: fluff!!!! Summary: Based off a random prompt: Person B and Person A taking couple quizzes on the Internet. A/N: I just saw The Marvels today and I am HAVING THOUGHTS. This is a short little thing. I was a little tipsy when I wrote this but I had fun. Also - I did take these quiz titles from actual Buzzfeed "relationship" quizzes I found so if they sound fun, they are out there. and it just so happened to work out really cute. You'll see. And I'm not lying about the quiz result in this one shot.
Masterlist
"What are you up to?" Carol asked as she approached your sitting form. She had just finished some maintenance on the ship while you were cuddled under the one blanket on the bed in her ship. Your laptop was sprawled up on your lap.
"Did you ever used to take those couple quizzes that would come in magazines?" You asked while your eyes remained on the webpage in front of you. You had been browsing some social media when you came across one of those silly but cute Buzzfeed-like quizzes. An idea immediately popped in your head
When Carol asked if you'd like to spend some time in her world, you had eagerly agreed. When you met your girlfriend you hadn't been ignorant to the fact that she wouldn't be like the other girls you had been with and you were constantly amazed by her skills and dedication. So, taking some time off Earth to really see everything, see the galaxy, you were so pleased. But a couple of hours into your adventure you realized you were missing something: WiFi. The internet. Connection. It had taken you a hot minute to figure it out but you got it. And you were quite proud. Carol was a wizard with fancy space technology but when it came to your dedication to the internet, she didn't quite get it.
"Couple quizzes?" Carol repeated and thought for a second. "Like, those ones you'd take to figure out if you and your crush would be together?"
You nodded, eagerly. "I found some online that looks fun." You shifted over on the bed to make room beside you. "Come take a few with me."
Carol laughed and threw down a dirty towel she had been using during her ship maintenance. "What, are we twelve all of a sudden?"
You rolled your eyes and patted the space next to you on the bed. "Babe, come on. Humor me."
Your girlfriend sighed and finally caved. She slid under the blanket, your legs pressed against one another. You shifted the laptop so it was half on your thigh and half on Carol's.
Carol immediately started reading the page pulled up on the computer screen. Her brows furrowed. "'Create An Outfit From Urban Outfitters And We'll Reveal What's Missing In Your Relationship.' Honey, are you being serious?"
You couldn't help but laugh a little at your girlfriend's expression. "Yes, I know it's silly but come on, it can be entertaining."
"Fine, fine," Carol sighed as she took the helm and clicked the 'Start Quiz' button. The first question popped up.
Question 1: Let's start off with picking out a bra.
"Seriously?" Carol smirked.
"You read the title," you pointed out. "You know what you were in for."
"Fair enough," your girlfriend agreed. "Let's go with the white one. Keep it simple."
You agreed and made the selection.
Question 2: Pick a pretty dress.
"Oh, that's cute," you said as you pointed to an off-the-shoulder multi-colored dress.
"It's not bad," Carol agreed, "but you'll be able to see the bra straps and I don't think it'll work with those patterns. We should go with the white one, it has thick straps and it's flowy. Could be comfortable."
Your jaw went slack as you processed Carol's words. "You're taking this seriously now, huh?"
Carol laughed. "If we want to know what's missing in this relationship—as the quiz promises to tell us—we gotta be realistic here."
"Alright, alright," you caved. "White, flowy, thick-strapped dress it is." You selected the photo and moved on to the next question.
Question 3: Won't you need a jacket? Pick one.
"I don't know, will we need a jacket?" Carol asked in somewhat disbelief.
You shrugged. "Maybe it's fall time in the midwest. They didn't really set the scene for this outfit. I say we go with the leather jacket."
"I won't argue with that."
Question 4: Pick some comfy bottoms.
"What? Are they going under the dress?" Carol asked in confusion.
"I mean… Maybe?" You frowned at the computer. "These aren't very scientific."
"I need to manage my expectations. Go with the jean shorts, they should be fine."
You agreed and clicked the high-rise jean short photo.
Question 5: Of course, you can have the shoe of your choice.
"Oh, how nice of them, of course I can have shoes," Carol laughed.
You scoffed. "Stay focused, it's almost over. I think the black slide-ons will work."
Carol nodded. "Ties in with the leather jacket."
Question 6: Lastly, accessories make the outfit, so pick one.
"We are in the homestretch," you announced. "I think we should complete the look with sunglasses."
"Not the purse?" Carol asked.
"We have pockets on the leather jacket."
"You're so smart, babe."
You blushed as you selected the sunglasses and held your breath dramatically for the reveal… And there was nothing.
No results populated. It was blank. Whoever had made the quiz had apparently missed a crucial component.
Carol gasped. "We did all that for nothing?"
You bit your lip to stop yourself from bursting out laughing. "Maybe it means…nothing is missing. We're perfect."
Carol sighed and turned to face you. "My little optimist."
You giggled. "Well, what did you make of these results? Or lack thereof?"
Your girlfriend shrugged. "Maybe it means we're both cursed."
Now you could laugh again. "I actually think we're perfect."
Gently, Carol leaned in for a kiss, which you happily reciprocated.
"Should we try one more?" You asked after your lips separated. "These are really ridiculous."
"But you were right, they are kind of fun."
You smiled. "Awesome, one more it is then."
Carol agreed and gave you a full reign of the laptop. You typed and clicked away with Carol watching you closely. She liked your laptop, probably even like the idea of having it on board, but she never really used it when you offered it up to her.
After some browsing, you finally settled on a neutral but interesting-sounding quiz. "This one could be fun: What Relationship Type Do You Have With Your Partner?"
"There are different types of relationships?"
You nodded. "The quiz says so."
"Well, if the quiz says so," Carol smirked and motioned toward your laptop. "Let's go."
Question 1: How much do you and your significant other talk?
You and Carol both skimmed the options. And settled on the exact same one.
"We talk at least 100 hours a week."
"I can't get enough of you," you admitted and made the selection.
Question 2: How far away does your partner live?
"Oh, this was so not made for us," you laughed.
"Hey," Carol said in faux defence but she started laughing as well. "We make it work."
"Would you say we're in a long-distance situation? Or do we just live far apart but make time to see each other?"
"We make time, right?" Carol asked. Her tone dropped significantly. "I make time to see you."
You gave her a soft smile. "Of course you do, babe. You go beyond what I expect. I mean, I'm in space, right now. For you. With you."
Carol grabbed your hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
Question 3: What do you and your partner have in common?
"I want to say loyalty. Or everything."
"Yeah," you nodded, " but you don't like my music taste. Or my food preferences."
"I'm sorry I'm not into jazz or eating ketchup on scrambled eggs."
"Loyalty it is," you decided.
Question 4: What's one thing you'd change about your partner?
"Kind of a rude question," Carol mumbled. "Absolutely nothing, right? Unless you're going to take this as a chance to admit to me what I don't want to hear."
You shook your head. "Nothing." You could worship Carol. "Nothing at all. I'll take all of you. Flaws, perfections, and everything in between."
Question 5: What's something you'd leave your partner for?
You both read through the responses.
"Communication could ruin us," you pointed out.
"You're always right, babe."
Question 6: If your significant other was sad, how would you cheer them up?
You let out a light laugh at the options under the question. "You either shower me with so much affection when I'm upset or don't know what to do."
Carol lightly bumped her shoulder into you. "I like the more flattering option. You also shower me with affection. I almost have to peel you off me."
"You never peel me off you."
"I love you too much."
Question 7: Your significant other is working themselves way too hard. What do you do?
"Oh, this is so you," you point out to Carol. "All work, I swear."
"I am not-,"
"I am in your bed and you spent hours working on this ship."
Carol humphed. "Well, I'm here now."
"I would say I try to express to you how concerned I am about your…working habits."
Carol agreed, reluctantly. "You are allowed to express them."
"I am. And I will."
Question 8: Oh no – your S.O. is sick! What do you do?
"Soup," you decide as you read the options. "You do like to me soup when I'm sick. And watching movies. I love watching movies with you even when I'm sick."
You saw Carol's cheeks get rosy. "Do you enjoy my soup?"
"Your soup?" You smirk. "I didn't know you owned Campbell's Soup."
Carol laughed.
Question 9: How well do you think you really know your partner?
"'I feel like I know every facet of,'" you read off the webpage.
"Yeah," Carol agreed. "That one."
You placed a quick pack on her cheek. Her skin was still rosy and pink.
Question 10: And lastly, do you see a future with this person?
"Of course," you whispered. "I never want us to be apart even for a second."
Carol said nothing but gave your thigh a tight squeeze. You could've pounced on her then and there.
As you made the final selection, you once again held your breath and waited on the edge of your seat for the result.
This time, it actually worked. A confetti animation decorated the screen as your quiz result populated.
"'The super-love relationship,'" you read off the computer screen, "'Wow, your relationship is like one of those whirlwind Hollywood romances that everyone dreams of having! It's like some sort of fairytale, but it's clearly not fiction.'"
Carol let out a surprised but pleased yell at the results. "We actually are perfect," she noted. "You were right."
You hummed in agreement. "Like some sort of fairytale. That sure does describe how I feel."
"Really?"
You nodded. "Sometimes I can't believe you're real. And that I'm here. And you're mine."
Carol subtly intertwined her hand with yours. "I'm always gonna be yours, babe."
"We're so cheesy," you muttered. "I love us."
Carol smiled. It was so genuine and intriguing. "I love us, too."
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Soulmate- Carol Danvers
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Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader
Characters: Carol Danvers
Warnings: N/A
Request: Anon- Carol Danvers and 17 "I'm pretty sure she/he's my soulmate." on the prompts list please
Word Count: 404
Author: Charlotte
Finding out that Carol hadn’t actually died in an accident at work, you were shocked and overjoyed. Shock only grew when she told you about where she had been since she supposedly died and opened your eyes to what existed beyond your small dot that was Earth.
As soon as she was back with you on Earth, you insisted she moved in with you (seen as her old apartment had been sold and most of her belongings had been stored in your spare room or with Maria) and started off where you had left off. With Carol came her new pet Goose. To you he was a pleasant ginger cat and that was all he would be to you, even if she insisted, he was actually some alien creature.
Before everything had happened, Carol hadn’t been a huge cat fan, but now she was fully supporting the stereotype of a crazy lesbian cat mum.
You entered your living room, having to shimmy past the oversized cat tree that was encroaching on the entrance of the room. Carol was already there, cradling Goose like he was a baby, rocking him gently as she pointed out the birds that were perched on the bird feeder outside of the window.
“I would let you chase those birds,” Carol said to him. “But I don’t really know what damage a flerken could do to the environment.”
“I can’t imagine he’d do anything good for it,” you commented, plopping down onto the sofa, letting up a small cloud of ginger fluff.
Carol tilted the feline creature towards you, so that you could see his content expression.
“Isn’t he the sweetest?” She grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, forcing out a low rumble of growl from Goose.
“I’m starting to think that you love him more than me,” you chuckled.
You didn’t even question her love for Goose, but you also didn’t need to question her love for you too.
“I’m pretty sure he’s my soulmate.”
You playfully narrowed your eyes at her, feigning offence. Goose made another grumble before leaping from Carol’s arms and trotting happily out of the room to likely find somewhere to sleep or something to knock over- he may not biologically be a cat, but his attitude certainly fit one.
“I don’t know if he agrees,” you said.
She shrugged. “I have a feeling that is how he shows his love.”
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babyjakes · 4 months
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help me hold onto you.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | sex pollen
pairing | steve rogers x avenger!reader
warnings | sex pollen (reader was exposed to some sort of chemical agent that induced a persistent state of hyperarousal.) medical elements (reader is staying in the medbay.) crying (not related to the sexual interactions.) stevie is soooo soft :')). dialogue is soft and sweet, gentle praise and encouragement included. fingering. tummy rubs bc they make me soft. she comes quick! intense, prolonged orgasm. the beginnings of aftercare.
word count | 1,356
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"Hey, hey- okay. I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here. Just tell me what you need."
Steve's brow was raised in gentle concern as he stood over your hospital bed. Dr. Banner had set you up in a secluded room at the end of the medbay, wanting to give you as much privacy as possible given the nature of your condition. It was still all a bit baffling to Steve; Bruce had shared any information he had available on the mysterious chemical you'd been exposed to out on your mission to a foreign bioweaponry facility, but most of it had gone in one of the supersoldier's ears and out the other. "Persistent heightened state of arousal" was the only phrase he was able to cling to, which still didn't feel like much to go off of.
As he stood there at your bedside, though, those words were all of a sudden making a lot more sense. You were a pitiful sight, really- curled up on your side with your knees hugged up to your chest. Your whole body was shaking, something that tore at your teammate's heart as he came to better terms with the severity of the state you were in. Overcome with obvious discomfort, all you could do was lie there and rub your sore knees together uselessly. Your hands reached out for him needily; in an instant, he was lowering himself down to sit beside you, leaning over you attentively as his face filled with concern.
"Oh doll," he hummed, reaching out to brush back your hair with a steady hand. Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your big eyes looking up at him pleadingly. As another wave of unbearable heat rolled over you, tears were building in your eyes. "How can I help, sweet girl?" Steve was pressing, "Is there anything I can do?"
In a moment of total weakness, you reached out for him again. This was completely abnormal behavior for you. Being the youngest and newest to the team, you were always intentional about maintaining an image of responsibility and restraint. But as Steve sat there at your side, his steel blue eyes looking over you so thoughtfully as he gently offered you his hands, your hijacked mind was fixating on him faster than you could realize what was happening.
"P-please," the weakness of your small voice broke Steve's heart. He nodded encouragingly, wanting to do anything he could to ease your suffering.
"What is it, honey? Hmm? What do you need?" he asked soothingly.
More tears built in your eyes as you failed to generate a verbal response. Instead, all you could do was continue to writhe pathetically. Steve's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of your movements. "Does something hurt?" You whimpered feebly at his question, shaking your head. "No, then what is it, sweetheart? Can you tell me, or- or show me?"
Desperation drove your every move as you shifted slightly onto your back, your knees falling apart as you brought a shaking hand down to motion over your hospital gown toward where the sensations were accumulating. If Steve was surprised or offended by your admission, he didn't let it show. Instead, he simply nodded, speaking with an understanding tone, "It's bothering you there, darlin'? Do you want me to take a look?"
Your wide, pleading eyes were enough to answer his question. Pausing, he took a moment to consider the best way to proceed. After a quick glance back at the door to the hallway, seeing that the coast was seemingly clear, he gently brought his hands over to lift up the thin fabric of the gown, pulling it back to expose the area you had pointed to. Steve couldn't help but gasp softly as he saw the ramifications for the first time; any doubts he could've had about the compound's strength or effects were immediately shot down as he faced the living, breathing evidence.
"Oh honey," he crooned worriedly, leaning his head down a bit to get a better look. Your pussy was so puffy it almost looked painful. Your clit was swollen to about three times its normal size, pulsating visibly in unison with your heavy heartbeat. Bruce had placed a wide gauze pad beneath you, and it wasn't hard to see why; with the constant state of arousal your body was trapped in, you were amassing an impressive amount of self-lubricant. Face drawn in disbelief and honest fascination, Steve struggled to find words to console you. "Sweetie, what can I do? Let me help you," his voice was swelling with concern. Swallowing hard, his gaze returned up to your face. "Can I-... would it help if I-... you know...?" The sweetest hint of pink rose up in his cheeks.
You were unsure of what would happen if he tried, but with the way your stomach was lurching and spasming in excitement at the mere thought, both you and Steve knew it would be senseless to not at least give it a try. Sensing your mild confliction, the supersoldier took a moment to brush back your hair again as his soothing voice filled the air, "It's alright, doll. Let me take care of you. S'just me, just Stevie. I'll be gentle, I promise."
As he spoke, he gently drew his hand down to begin rubbing at your inner thigh. Letting out a squeak of surprise, your heart jumped at the way his touch immediately sent sparks shooting up through your tangled nerves. "Easy," he hummed lowly, pushing on you carefully to encourage you to open up your legs a little further. Once you were nice and spread out for him, he took another deep breath. "Okay darlin'. Just keep breathing for me," he seemed to be trying to calm his own nerves as much as he was yours.
With the lightest amount of pressure he could manage, Steve carefully brought his pointer and middle middle fingers to sink slightly into your pool of arousal. They didn't linger long, as they then slowly dragged up your wetness to smear over your enlarged clit. The moment he came in contact with your poor button, your world was set ablaze. You had never felt such unbearable heat in your life; it was as if every atom within your core was being blasted into smithereens, an incredible amount of energy and pressure building up inside of you as a result.
"Easy, easy- shhhh," Steve was doing his best to talk you through it, watching as your hands scrambled to grip the sheets below you, your hips rocking in shameless desperation.
"Mm.... mmhh... hhh..." you struggled through incoherent whines. The man brought his free hand over to rub your tummy gently, trying to give you any sense of comfort and safety he could as he continued working the pads of his fingers in careful, steady circles.
It only took a few more moments of the simple stimulation to send an orgasm ripping through you with unimaginable force; as Steve saw your climax hit, his eyes widened, but he was intent on carrying you through it. Needy cunt spasming around nothing, your clit jerked and jolted beneath his tender traces. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, your whole body at the mercy of the waves of pleasure crashing over you.
And you kept coming, and coming, and coming- trapped in the grips of your orgasm for what must have been minutes compared to the fleeting moments you were usually granted. "Good, let it out," Steve was murmuring softly, watching as all your pent-up frustration was slowly pulled from your seizing body.
When you were finally winding down, breathless and slumped against the flimsy mattress beneath you, he was careful to pull his hands away with the utmost care to avoid causing you any further discomfort or unwanted stimulation. As he stood momentarily to find something to wipe his hands with, you let out a shaky whimper. "No, no, I'm here," he quickly returned to your side, retaking his place next to you on the cot. "I'm right here, doll. You're okay. Here, let me clean you up a bit, honey."
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Need someone older | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> DBF!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your dad’s best friend, Steve Rogers, has a kind that makes your body reacts in a needy way whenever he is around you. So when your dad is taking a shower he shows you that he can help your arching feeling better as the boys you know from university.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.019
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, praises, dirty talk, age gap
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
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“Hey, babygirl,” a rough, familiar voice says behind you, and the man behind you smirks when you hum in response.
You turn around to face the blond, tall man behind you. Your dad’s best friend - Steve Rogers. He is as tall as your dad, muscular, and has short blond hair. His beard is trimmed, and for a moment, you get lost in your thoughts. You love that look, especially because it defines his ocean blue eyes and gives you a lot of thoughts that aren’t as innocent as you look like. You always have a thing for older men, and for Steve even more; his stubble would probably feel so good between your legs while his long, thick fingers slide in and out of you. You try not to moan when you just think about the filthy things he could do to you. You’re pretty small compared to him, and it makes your knees weak. Your pussy starts dripping whenever you’re close to him. And the way your lips are parting so slightly that no one sees it, your eyes so filled with lust, but you just smile and nod softly. Steve chuckles, like he always does when he sees the reaction he has on you, the way you act when he is around you, pressing your legs together, digging your nails in the hem of your shirt, or the surface of the kitchen counter. He sees the way your eyes roam over his muscular body - little do you know he wears shirts that fit like a second skin. Steve enjoys the way your lips are parted, knowing that you think no one sees the way you stare at him, almost drooling over the older man.
“Like what you see?” He tears, walking a step closer, so you have to look up to look into his face and his beautiful blue eyes. “Answer me. Tell me, do you like what you see? Don’t be shy.”
Your eyes widen slightly, and you whimper. His smile grows when he has the reaction he wants to have. You make him go crazy, and he doesn’t need to do much more than stand there. Steve loves to see how small you look, the way you don’t manage to get a word out when he looks into your eyes, the way you clench your thighs and whimper - for relief, wanting him to help you get rid of the aching feeling between your legs. His hand glides to your waist, and he pulls you closer. Your chin almost touches his broad chest, which causes a gasp to leave your lips. His fingers digging into the soft skin of yours, a shiver running along your spine, and you grip the kitchen counter behind you tighter, trying to ground yourself.
“Rogers. Do you annoy her again?” Your dad shouts from behind, and Steve grins.
“Do I, princess?” He asks loudly enough for Bucky to hear him.
You shake your head, but Steve lets go of you to smile softly and walk to Bucky. He smirks at him before they walk out of the kitchen and into the garden. Your breath hitches, your hands are shaking, and your knees are weak. Your nails are digging into the surface of the counter behind you, helping you not to fall down. This man can do things you didn’t know he could do; your panties are soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even touched you in a way that could explain your throbbing pussy.
“Dinner is ready in half an hour,” Bucky tells you, and when you reply with a short one, he continues his conversation with Steve.
You made your way to the living room, letting yourself slip on the couch while you watched television. Bucky and Steve are still in the garden, taking about everything and nothing. Your legs are pressed together, and while your head rests against the backrest, your mind is going wild with thoughts about what your dad’s best friend could do with you - with his tongue, with his fingers, or with his dick. You have never thought about it, but you’re sure he is huge. And Steve is experienced in bed, so he will probably do a good job when he fucks a woman, making her scream his name while she comes over his dick over and over again. Just the thought makes you wetter as you already are, and you press your thighs further together, trying to get some friction at your arching pussy. How would it feel when Steve just had a taste of you? When his stubble brushes so softly against your thigh and your pussy or when his thick fingers disappear between your wet, tight walls. He would be more talented than the guys your age, but he is your dad’s best friend and almost double your age. You’re probably not even his type of woman. Maybe you should just date some guys your age, but they are not like Steve - not so nice and handsome.
“Buck is taking a shower, then we can eat,” Steve suddenly says and stands next to you.
“O-Oke,” you mumble, and for a moment you get lost in his beautiful blue eyes.
“You haven’t answered my question earlier. So did you like what you saw?”
You smile softly; it’s more than just that you like to see him standing in front of you; you imagine filthy things he could do to you.
“Yes, I-I like what I see when you’re standing in front of me.”
Your cheeks heat up, and you turn your head away. Steve chuckles, adoring the way you try to hide the red on your cheeks, trying to hide that you’re throbbing wet because of him. He lets himself fall down next to you on the couch, his arm resting on the backrest behind you. You feel warmth rushing through the part between your legs, causing you to press your thighs together.
“I like what I see when I’m standing in front of you too, babydoll.”
The gasp that leaves your lips makes the older man chuckle. His grin playfully, and his eyes were glistening with lust. Steve’s hand slides up and down his thigh, inching closer to his dick, and you follow his hand with your eyes before you let your gaze roam over his body, looking at his hand, which is now covering the growing bulge in his pants. Your breath hitches when you see his dick pressing his pants up. You’re adorable when you look at him like that. You can’t keep your eyes off of his bulge while he slides his hand slowly over it.
“I- Are you-?”
“Hard because of you? Yes, wanna give me a helping hand?” He asks, smirking.
“D- You- Stevie-“ you stutter, your eyes widening while you look at him.
Your eyes meet, and you almost don’t recognize him leaning closer. Only when his hands find your hips and his fingers trail slowly under the fabric of your shirt. His touch feels like electricity, and you gasp once again. Steve lifts you up like you weigh nothing and places you on his lap, his bulge pressing against your core. You moan softly when you move a bit, feeling the friction between your legs and his bulge growing underneath you.
“B-But dad can hear us,” you say quietly, placing your hands on his shoulders to push you up.
Steve holds you firmly on his lap, pushing you back down on his covered dick when you try to push yourself off of him. He moves your hips slowly over his bulge. You whimper and close your eyes for a moment while he groans. The older man pushes his hips upward, pushing his dick more against you. The movements make you moan and whimper softly. You then let your head fall forward and against his shoulder. Steve smirks. He loves the way you let him touch you like that, the way your body reacts to his touches, and he loves to see you all desperate for his dick, grinding against his bulge.
“He won’t unless you’re loud. But he wanted to take a shower so he wouldn’t hear or see us,” Steve says, looking into your eyes when you push yourself up.
Your lips are just inches away from one another, and his tongue glides over his bottom lip, his glistening saliva coating the soft, plump lips, and your eyes switch from his eyes to his lips back to his eyes. Then he leans closer and captures your lips with his. He moves your hips harshly over his hard dick. You moan into the kiss and slide your hands into his hair, tugging at them. You would like to feel him inside of you; he feels huge, and it makes your cunt drip more, causing arousal to soak your panties.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me. So hungry and desperate for my dick. You want a man, don’t you? Someone who takes care of you and knows how to treat you right, to make you feel good,” he mumbles against your lips, and you moan in response.
Steve smirks and kisses your jawline and along your neck. His fingers are digging into your skin, while you feel the feeling of pleasure growing in your stomach. Your whimpering turns more and more into moaning. You tug harsher at his hair, and Steve knows that your orgasm is just as close as he is.
“Feeling good, princess? Feeling like a princess on daddy’s cock, huh? Wanna feel it inside of you?” He asks, and you can’t help but throw your head back, grinding harder against him.
He knows exactly what to say and what to do to make a woman go crazy, to make her even more desperate, and to make her feel good. Steve stops your movements, and you immediately look at him, confused about why he stopped you.
“Please- so, so close,” you whimper, pouting softly.
“Answer my question. Do you feel like a princess on daddy’s cock?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Wanna feel daddy’s huge dick inside of your little pussy? Is she already begging for attention?”
“Y-Yes, begging for daddy’s attention,” you mumble, trying to grind against him.
He laughs softly before he lets you grind over his bulge. You’re a moaning mess on top of him, bringing both of you closer to the edge. He enjoys the view of you humping him like a desperate slut, and that’s what you are right now. You would agree with him; should he ask you, you would tell him you’re his little desperate slut.
“Please, c-can I come?” you ask, pressing your lips against Steve’s.
“Come for me; soak your panties, pretty girl. Make daddy come in his pants,” he groans, pressing you further down on his covered dick.
You move a few more times over his bulge before the two of you come into your pants, breathing heavily, and Steve kisses you once more to make you shut up while he helps you to move, riding out your orgasm.
“You’re so good for me; daddy’s proud of you, princess.”
Just in time, you two catch your breath, and you’re sitting next to him, talking about the university, when your dad appears with a towel around his waist. His hair is wet, and the water is still flowing down his body.
“Take on some clothes; your daughter doesn’t need to see you naked, Buck," Steve laughs and earns a groan from Bucky.
You’re still calming down from your orgasm; imagine Steve walking with just a towel, wet hair, and his body glistening through the apartment.
“How about I take care of you when Bucky is on his work drip?” Steve asks quietly, and you smile softly before you nod, leaning in for a short kiss before he gets up and walks outside to finally eat.
You follow him. Steve would prefer something else instead of the barbecue he and your dad just made, but he still enjoys it. Especially when he sees your still-red cheeks with the knowledge that your pants are soaked with your cum.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber
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sweetsbfreex · 1 year
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drunk and obsessed
Summary: a little something about a drunk steve. in the mafia steve universe
Pairing: drunk!mafia! steve rogers x reader
Warning: none rlly
-
“Baby, baby,” you giggle, a bit tipsy, as you try your hardest to fit the key into the door's lock. “I can’t open the door with you all over me.”
You laugh once more when Steve begins kissing your neck once again. His trimmed beard tickles your neck. 
On the other hand, Steve had a bit too much to drink. And that's all your doing. 
You know he feels he can never have too much to drink at these events, especially with you there. The events are filled with some of the most inimical people worldwide. So he always wants to be on his A-game for you. But that’s what body guards are for, you had argued. Pushing for him to have the time of his life with some of his friends.
Now here he was: drunk and his body cradling yours, as the two of you struggle to get in the house. 
“I just love you, baby,” his words slur as he kisses your cheek. 
“I love you too,” You tell him, so close to getting the fucking key to fit. 
“I can’t wait to get you inside,” his voice rich and husky as he seals his promise. 
“Baby, I don’t even think you could get it up right now.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve removes himself as your shell, both arms up in defense while he takes a few steps back.  
When your senses finally catch up that he’s no longer hovering over you. You quickly turn, just stopping him before he tumbles down the step. 
You hold both his hands, then let one go to grab the side of this face, “Honey, your drunk off your ass right now—“
“I am not! You just called my game weak,”
“That’s not what I said, but I need you to stand silently so I can open the door, okay?”
“Okay, pretty” he answers, landing a soft peck on your lips.
You smile as you finally open the door, reaching behind you to clasp Steve’s hand so you can pull him in. 
You close the door behind him, toeing your shoes off, giggling when he has trouble with his. But five ‘fucks’ later, he finally gets it done. 
“Woooo!!” Steve shoots his hand up in a v, as if his team just won the super bowl. 
You’re quick to drop his arms back down to his sides, “Shhh, baby. You’re screaming.”
“I am?! I’m sorry,” his hands cup your cheeks as he pulls you for yet another kiss. 
“Honey,” you laugh into his sloppy kiss. “Let’s go to bed, hm? And get some water into you.”
“I don’t wanna do bed,” he whines. “I wanna do you,” he smirks, moving one hand to grip your hip.
“Tomorrow, okay? I’m really tired.” You feign a dramatic yawn. 
“You are? Okay, that’s okay, okay?” he kisses your nose this time. 
Drunk sex isn’t something that hasn’t been checked off your and Steve’s list. But Steve is sloshed and can barely walk straight, so sex would not be on the menu for tonight. 
“Let’s head up.” You wrap his arm over your shoulder, walking up the steps carefully. 
-
He’s sitting at the end of the bed, his coat beside him, as you unbutton his dress shirt. You would’ve let him do it himself, but he was struggling with his lack of hand-eye coordination. Playfully slapping your hand every time your hands got close to his shirt. Giggling and joking that there would be no sexy times. That was until he had made you oath you’d keep your hands innocent. 
Ever your affectionate, drunk lover. 
“Are you sure you feel alright? Don't need to throw up or anything?” You ask Steve once again. 
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells you then takes another swig of water.
It only takes ten minutes until he’s in his sweatpants, with no boxers (under his request). You’re changed and ready for bed, tired out from an eventful day. Steve’s favorite movie playing in the background. 
Steve cuddles up close, half his brawny body on yours, his leg splayed over yours, and his head nestled on your chest. 
Your fingers run through his hair soothingly. 
“Y/n?”
You hum a response.
“Thank you for taking care of me, I love you too,” 
“I love you too.” you laugh breathily at his mistake. 
A comfortable pause ensues. 
“Y/n?” His hand shimmies under your t-shirt, to caress your soft skin. 
“Yes, honey,” you can’t help but laugh at the way he calls for your attention. You don’t think you’ve heard your actual name from his mouth so consistently. 
“I think I wanna— I know I want to start trying soon. I wanna be a dad, a good dad.”
Your hand stills.
“What?” Your voice is quiet and relayed with shock. Your heart no longer in your chest. 
He wants to try. The two of you tied the knot two months ago. However, talk of whether you guys wanted to start a family or not was shut down by Steve every time. You never wanted to push, but you also wanted to know what to expect. 
Either way, He was adamant that he wasn’t ready. There was no way he could raise a baby to be half a decent human being with his trauma lingering in the shadows, among other things
He sits up abruptly, “I know, I know. I’m not sober, but I’m not lying either. I’m ready, honey… if you are.” He grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles.
“Okay,” you smile, “If you remember, we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow?”
“Okay.” He kisses your cheek before cuddling into you once again. “I wanna be the perfect dad, y/n. The best.”
“You will be.” 
You tell him sweetly, your eyes stinging as you run your fingers through his hair once more. 
-
a/n: srry it's been so long, college keeps me busy 24/7! here's this as i try and finish binky fairy pt. 2
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3
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whereireid · 11 months
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𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | masterlist
pairing: senator!steve rogers x fem!reader
⍟ — nsfw content ahead. soft!dom steve. married life. housewife kink. oral [f receiving]. degradation of reader.
Summary: Your husband, Senator Steve Rogers, has been acting strange recently. He makes it up to you after he catches you snooping.
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You don’t want to snoop on your husband.
Honest, you don’t.
Sometimes, though, duty calls. It feels like a crime to be in Steve’s office, perched at his desk, attempting to hack into his computer.
You’ve tried three different passwords, now. The first, the name of your daughter, and her date of birth — BeauRogers2012. The second, your anniversary — 19October2007. And, finally, the name of the family dog — CooperRogers.
Nothing. There’s nothing. All to no avail, the screen lighting a shade of red with each incorrect guess, your lips tugging down into a frown as you try to pinpoint exactly what his password could be.
If it’s not Beau, and it’s not you, and it’s not the family dog… then what is it?
Your eyes scan his office, desperate for a moment of realisation. You want something to click, your eyes dragging from a photograph of him and Bucky, to the miniature American flag which sits on his desk.
That’s it.
107thInfantryRegiment.
The computer lets you in. Steve’s desktop background is a photograph of you, him and Beau — baby Beau, curled in her daddy’s arms, asleep, in a pumpkin patch.
You pause. You feel bad, snooping, hesitating as you stare at the pixelated desktop background.
You feel awful, but you have to know what he’s getting up to.
Your lips press together as you swallow away the tightness in your throat, dragging the mouse towards his emails. Before you press down, you hesitate — Steve has never given you a reason not to trust him.
Yet, you’re in, now. You might as well look whilst you’re there, and you’re glad that you do, because a particular name piques your interest as you snoop through his emails.
Sharon Carter.
Steve’s ex-assistant, although you’d always assumed she was more than that. She helped your husband climb to the position of Senator — she was his number one fan, more obsessed with him than you.
Your brows knit together. Steve had told you that him and Sharon no longer speak, as a result of her switching to the Republican to spite him. This — these emails, which go back for months — is unfathomable evidence that he’s been lying to you. Your throat feels cotton dry as you frantically scroll, unable to comprehend that they’ve been communicating for months without you knowing.
“What are you doing?”
Fear cracks through your body like a whip. You feel like a thin sheet of ice, cold flooding through your body as your eyes dart up from the computer screen, focused on your husband, who appears unamused by what he’s found.
“So, what are you doing?” Steve repeats when you don’t answer, his lips pursed as he stares at you. The suit he’s wearing is somewhat tight on his arms, and you can see his muscles flex beneath his clothes. “Be a big girl and use your words, honey.”
“You’re — you’re messaging Sharon Carter.”
His eyebrows quirk upwards in amusement. “You went through my emails,” he comments, “without my permission.”
“You’re messaging Sharon Carter,” you repeat, your voice coming out a whisper.
The look that he gives you is degrading. It’s a look of pity — his jaw ticks slightly as he cocks his head, his tongue darting over his plump, pink lips, leaving a glistening sheen in its wake. “And you’re going through my emails,” he reiterates, pushing himself off of the doorframe. “Without my permission.”
“Are you cheating on me?”
An amused expression flitters over Steve’s face as he approaches you. You feel timid in his chair, his large frame overbearing as he looms over you, the blue irises of his eyes impossibly sheathed by his black and blown pupils.
“Cheating?” He asks, beginning to lower himself to your height. You brows furrow in confusion as he kneels in front of you, his hands placing themselves on your knees. “No. Why? Did you think that I was?”
“Yes.”
“Liar,” Steve whispers from beneath you, your skin prickling with goosebumps as his fingers run over the pleated fabric of your skirt. “You just wanted to know what I’ve been doing.”
You push at Steve’s head, forcing him to look up at you. You frown, a twisted warmth pooling inside of your stomach as his hand caresses the plump flesh of your thighs. “Yeah. You’ve been doing her.”
He snorts. “If I wanted Barbie, I would’ve had Barbie.” His hand beckons your thighs apart, and you flush as his hums in content. “No underwear. Whore.”
Your face flushes with warmth. "That’s what you like, isn’t it?”
Steve grins, his fingers parting your folds softly, his knuckle pressing against your swollen clit. You try to kill the moan which climbs up your throat before it can slip past your lips, but it refuses to die. “Like music to my ears,” he comments, his stubble grazing your skin as he peppers deliberate kisses to your thighs, his tongue a cool stimulant to your hot skin, “you’re a naughty girl, you know? Going through my things and then getting all worked up over what you find.”
You can’t bare to look down at his smug face. His blue eyes twinkle as he gazes up at you, and you force your eyes shut, the delicious, dirty feeling of desire brooding inside of you. It pulls at your heart and burns wildly inside of you, only to be smothered by the feeling of his fingers gliding through your folds.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what you found?”
You shake your head, your eyes scrunching shut as his tongue finally makes contact with your heat. “Oh, God,” you whimper as he glides the muscle through your folds, his fingers pushing inside of your cunt.
“Not God. Just Steve.”
His lips twitch, tugging upwards with a smile. Pleasure rides through you in a gentle wave as his tongue makes contact with your clit, his motions gentle as he suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
It feels so deliciously wrong. You’re in his office, sat in his chair, with him between your legs. He wasn’t even meant to find you here — you were supposed to be in the kitchen when he got home, but you’d lost track of time.
“Since you won’t tell me, I’ll make an assumption, and I want you to tell me if I’m right.” His voice is gravely, rumbling against your cunt, and you shiver as his fingers curl inside of you. “You went through my emails. You saw Sharon Carter’s name and you had to click, and you read them in detail and you found information.”
“Yes,” you say shakily, groaning as his nose nuzzles into your pelvic bone, his tongue rolling small circles into your sensitive bud. “Yes, I read them. She’s — she’s a bitch and I don’t want you talking to her.”
His brows quirk upwards, his fingers carefully scissoring your tight cunt open. You clench down around him, the pointed look he’s shouting you making you tense. “She’s my spy. Why else would she have switched to Republican last minute?”
“Because you married me and she wishes it was her.”
A wave of pleasure ripples through you as he suckles on your clit, his fingers heavenly as they roll inside of you. “Is she the one getting her cunt eaten in my office, honey?” When you don’t answer, he hums, his voice muffled as he continues to roll his tongue up and down your sticky, wet folds, “no, she’s not, so stop being a brat and let me finish speaking.”
As if to make a point, his fingers still inside of you, and your chest burns with disappointment. “Okay. I’ll stop being a brat,” you submit to him, your voice shaking slightly as you buck your pelvis towards his hand.
“Good girl." His praise makes you shiver, a delicious pleasure crackling through you as his fingers contain their steady motions, his lips peppering soft kisses against your heat intermittently
“The information that you found is very important people, only meant to be seen by people in government.” A delicious pleasure cracks through you like a whip as his fingers glide through your glistening folds, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he rolls his thumb over your sensitive clit. “And, honey, you're not in government. You've got too much of a dumb baby brain for that."
You whine, your legs trembling involuntary as Steve licks up a deliberate stripe up your cunt, his tongue flattening against your clit. "I'm not dumb," you protest weakly, your thighs tensing as his fingers curl inside of you, the lewd squelching of your cunt echoing around his office walls.
Your body becomes electric with sparks, exploding with ecstasy as his tongue licks stripes up and down your slick. It's so intimate, so gentle — his movements are precise, your legs jolting at every movement, every lick.
"Really? You're not?" Steve pulls away, tutting from below you. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that only dumb wives went through their husband's stuff without permission."
"I'm sorry," you say.
"You're not," he replies, his tongue flat as he swirls his muscle around your swollen bud, "but that's okay, honey. I don't expect my wife and her dumb, baby brain to feel sorry for me. I'm the man of this house. I don't need feeling sorry for."
His kisses grow sloppy, his nose pressing heavily into your pelvis. You let out a shaky breath, your stomach flipping as Steve's fingers glide in and out of your cunt. A moan catches in your throat, and you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so.
Steve's movements are skilled, deliberate. You melt into the office chair, the leather fabric growing slick beneath you as you softly behind to grind against his face. He's slow and teasing, his tongue swirling around you bud, nipping at it softly. The pinching pain makes you gasp, your breath hitching in your throat as he groans against your cunt.
"Come on, honey. I know you want to let go," he purrs against your cunt, the sensation sending shivers up your spine. "I know you're not holding that much of a grudge against me that you're denying yourself of an orgasm."
You pout. He's right — of course he's right, he's your husband and he knows what's best for you. You finally allow yourself to relax, fully, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as Steve's movements makes your stomach tighten.
And then, it happens. You grow tired of holding back, needy and desperate, and Steve's fingers curl inside of you again, and you let go. Your slick paints his face, your legs trembling as he laps at your heat, his groans sending sparks to your core.
By the time he pulls away, you feel weak. The sight of him only makes you grow weaker, his chin glistening with your slick, his eyes black and blown, a sultry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand runs over his lips and he hums, satisfied with the orgasm that he drew from you.
"I'm sorry, honey. You should have never seen those emails, or the documents attached to them. They're not for you to be concerned about." His hand runs over your thighs, his motions gentle and soft as he caresses your skin. Steve's lips purse, his voice dropping dangerously low as he speaks. "But if you ever go through my emails again, you'll be in serious trouble. You got that, honey?"
Your body grows stiff as he reaches past you to turn the computer off, his lips nestling against your head in the process. The kiss he plants to your forehead is soft and gentle, and you smile up at him.
“Yes, Steve.”
You nod your head like an obedient little wife, and he smiles down at you as he does so.
Domesticated bliss keeps him sane.
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she's everything he's just ken.
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 month
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Late Night Snack » Steve Rogers/Captain America
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader
Summary: Steve and Y/N wake up in the middle of the night for a late night snack.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, pet names (honey, sweetheart)
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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“Hey, Captain.” You smiled, walking into the Avengers kitchen.
“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing up?” Steve asks.
“I wanted a snack.” You say.
You opened the freezer, reaching in to grab your tub of ice cream. You grabbed a spoon out of the drawer next to the refrigerator and took a seat next to Steve at the table.
“What are you doing up?” You asked, opening your ice cream.
“I wanted a snack too.” He says.
You hummed and took a bite of ice cream. Steve took the opportunity to take in your appearance. His eyes wandered down to your breasts, getting an amazing view due to the tank top you were wearing. He licked his lips when he noticed your nipples poking through your tank top, his cock harden in his sweatpants.
“Are you ok, Steve?” You asked.
“Uhh…” He cleared his throat. “Yes I am.” He says.
Your eyes began to wander his perfectly sculpted body. Your eyes looked further down his body, noticing the bulge in his sweatpants. You bit your lower lip, thinking about what his cock would feel like inside of you. Steve noticed you rubbing your thighs together.
“Y/N?” Steve says, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Yea?” You asked.
You two looked at each other, eyes filled with lust. The next thing you knew, you and Steve kissed each other hungrily, moaning into the kiss. Steve stood up, bring you with him and placed you on the table. You spread your legs so he could get in between them. You moaned when his bulge rubbed against your covered pussy. Steve’s hands found the bottom of your tank top and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the kitchen.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Steve breathes.
He dips his head down, kissing along your collarbone and making his way to your breasts. You gasped when his teeth nibbled at your skin, marking you up. One of his hands fondled your breasts while his other hand disappeared inside of your sleep shorts and panties. His fingers rubbed in between your wet folds, blindly finding your clit.
“You’re so fucking wet. Is it because of me?” He asks.
“It’s all because of you, Stevie.” You moaned.
His fingers circled your tight entrance before sliding two fingers inside of you. You involuntarily spread your legs wider to give him more access. Breathy moans left your lips as your nails dug in his strong biceps.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned, tilting your head back.
Steve moved his lips up to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. Your cunt clenched around his fingers.
“Stevie…” You gasped.
“Tell me what you need, honey.” Steve says against your skin.
“Fuck me.” You say in almost a whisper.
Steve removed his fingers from your pussy causing you to whine. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts and pulled them down with your panties, dropping them on the floor. He pulled down his sweatpants, revealing his hard cock. He pumped it in his hand a couple times before lining it up at your tight entrance, rubbing his tip between your wet folds.
“Oh fuck…” You gasped when his tip slid past your tight entrance. “You’re so big!” You moaned.
“You can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” Steve says.
His hands gripped your waist as he began thrusting. His thrusts started off slow and then got faster. Steve captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You two were moaning into each other’s mouths. You placed one of your hands on the back of his head, tugging on his hair causing him to moan at the feeling.
“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.” You moaned, tilting your head back.
“Yea? You’ve always wanted to get fucked by your Captain?” He asks.
“Mmm yes.” You moaned, your eyes fluttered shut.
“I’ve been dreaming about this too, sweetheart.” Steve moans.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you and locking your ankles behind his back. Your nails dug into his back, leaving red line marks behind. One of Steve’s hands left your waist to rub your clit causing you to arch your back in pleasure. That created a new angle for Steve. A pornographic moan left your lips when his tip hit your sweet spot.
“Right there!” You gasped. “Right fucking there!” You moaned.
His fingers rubbed your clit faster as his tip continues to hit your sweet spot repeatedly.
“Stevie!” You moaned.
“Yes, honey?” Steve pants.
“Faster!” You begged.
Steve didn’t need to be told twice. He thrusted faster to the point where your lips were parted and inaudible moans left your lips. You felt your orgasm coming closer and closer like it was about to come crashing down on you.
“S-Steve, I—” A moan left your lips before you could finish your sentence.
“Give it to me, sweetheart.” Steve says.
His fingers rubbed faster on your clit, just enough to send you over the edge. Your jaw dropped, an inaudible moan left your lips as you came. Steve’s grip tightened on your waist, feeling his orgasm coming closer and closer. His thrusts became sloppy as he came inside of you. He thrusted a few more times before stopping. You two looked at each other breathless before Steve kissed you hungrily.
“Best late night snack ever.” Steve says.
“Definitely.” You agreed.
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
-Bucky’s Doll
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Take Me Home Tonight
Summary: You run into a familiar face while working. (Bucky Barnes)
Warnings: noncon/dubcon, fingering, dry humping, flirting.
Note: look, we didn't expect Applebee's to inspire one fic, but now it's done two fics. Shit. We are deranged.
Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Please also reblog because it’s a lot longer than I intended.
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You hug the menus to your chest as you approach the booth of four newly sat in your section. As you do, you stutter step, unsure if your eyes are seeing clearly. You know that hair, the subtle wave of brown with strands of silver woven in. You step up and give a smile to the men.
“Good evening,” you place a menu in front of each of them; the burly blonde comedically crowded into the corner beside the man with dark hair and darker eyes, the blonde you vaguely recognise from his acquaintance with the most familiar face at the table, “Mr. Barnes.”
“Oh, hi,” he sits up and sets the drink menu back at the centre of the table, “uh,” he gives you a peculiar look, “I thought you worked down at the Denny’s.”
“Used to. Just got hired here,” you chime, “uh, so, are you all ready to go with your drink orders?”
“You mind?” The blond with the short hair nudges him.
“Yeah, go ahead, I’m still thinking,” he sits back.
“Heineken,” the man orders with a tweak of his eyebrow.
“Seems you don’t carry Hansa so I’ll have a jolly rancher cocktail,” the big blond intones. You almost laugh, thinking of him with the bright blue drink with a gummy worm for garnish.
“Shirley Temple for me,” the other says, “designated driver.”
“Oh, of course,” you note each order in your head, “and you, Mr. Barnes?”
“Mr. Barnes,” the man across from him goads.
“Bucky,” Mr. Barnes corrects you, “uh, I’ll take a Corona.”
“Alright, Heineken, jolly rancher, Shirley Temple, Corona,” you list off, “I’ll be back with your drinks and to take your order.”
“Thanks,” Bucky smiles.
“Yeah, thanks, doll,” the blonde at his shoulder winks. You don’t miss the elbow he receives from his seat partner.
You go to the bar and put in the order. You do a round to check in on your other tables, grabbing a few napkins at request and clearing plates. When the drinks are set out neatly on a tray, you carry them to the booth and dole them out.
“So, are we starting with an appetizer?” You ask.
“We’ll do some nachos,” the man across from Bucky says, “thanks, sweetie.”
“Beef, chicken, or veggie?”
“Chicken,” he answers.
“Hey, I know you,” the blond drapes his arm over the side of the booth, “you’re the neighbour girl.”
“Steve,” Bucky reproaches under his breath.
“What? It was killing me. I just couldn’t place the face.”
Bucky utters your name, almost reluctant to do so, “I’m just out with buddies,” he explains, “buncha old men catching up;” he jabs his thumb towards the man beside him, “Steve, Thor,” he points to the other blonde then to the man across from him, “Sam.”
“Sounds like fun,” you chirp, “well, I’ll go get those nachos. Are we planning on entrees?”
“We’ll just share the chips,” Bucky assures.
Sam leans back and pats his chest, “heartburn.”
You humour him with a smile and nod before spinning away. You flit off and head for the kitchen. It’s strange seeing Mr. Barnes– Bucky outside the neighbourhood. He’s always just been next door. Odder even seeing him without his family. Well, you guess he deserves the break. Every time you see him, he’s on his way somewhere.
🍻
The night wears on. Your shifts always pass quickly as you’re kept afoot by patrons and managers alike. Several times you find yourself visiting Bucky’s table to top up drinks and they grow rowdy as the game comes on the big screen. 
You’re almost amused as you’ve never seen your neighbour like this. He’s always so stern and standoffish. A small wave as he mows the lawn or a ‘morning’ as you pass by him unlocking his car. Even your father claimed he was the most serious man he’d ever met.
“Sweetheart,” Sam smiles at you as clear the empties, “can we get our check? I gotta get them out of here before they break something.”
“Sure thing,” you say as you stack the tray with bottles and glasses, “separate or together?”
“Together. I’ll have to chase them down for the difference,” Sam answers.
As you take the clear Corona bottle from in front of Bucky, he rests his chin in his hand and watches you. Your eyes meet his and your cheeks round even more. He’s definitely drunk.
“Hi,” he babbles.
“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” you return.
“I told you, it’s Bucky,” he grins.
“Bucky,” you repeat, “you want some water?”
He sits up and drags his elbow off the table, “I guess I should…”
“For all of them,” Sam says from your other side, “please.”
“Alright, check and waters.”
You almost click your heels before you sweep off on your mission. It’s almost closing time and the place is sparse. A few stragglers along the bar but no more hectic families of screaming toddlers breaking crayons and tossing napkins.
You go to the till and print out the bill and grab a handheld from the charger. You place both on your cleared tray and fill three glasses of water. You carry them back to your last table and gently set the condensating drinks before each diner. Sam takes the bill as he holds his card between two fingers.
“You go to school?” Steve’s voice startles you before you can summon small talk.
“Uh, yeah, second year,” you answer him.
“I thought so,” he says, “college girls…”
“Shut up, Rogers,” Bucky grumbles, putting his hand up to block out Steve, “ignore him. He’s trashed.”
“Speak for yourself,” Steve swats his hand down and receives a swipe back. 
The men slap at each others’ hands as Thor stands and leans over, his size deterring the men as he shoves their arms apart, “enough. Or I’ll drag you out like stray cats.”
You try not to show your discomfort as Sam hands you back the machine and it loudly prints his receipt. You offer him a copy but he insists you go and enjoy your night. You bid them all the same and set off to clear the last of your tables.
Your coworkers start their own closing tasks and the music turns off as closing time hits. You glance up, everyone’s gone. You go back to the booth and gather up the mostly untouched glasses of water and wipe it down. With your tables done, you turn in your apron and go to get your cut of the tips. Your tally comes up higher than you expect thanks to the table of middle-aged men.
You head out the back door and round to the front of the shining marquee. You’ll uber home since your mom is out of town. As you step up on the little pavement lip in front of the restaurant, a figure stands from their perch on the ground. You don’t recognise Bucky until he says your name.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” You ask as you lower your phone.
“Ah, well, me and Steve…” he rubs his neck and chuckles, “I’m waiting on a cab but none have passed by.” He shrugs, “plus, I figured we’re headed in the same direction…”
“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess,” you say, “I was just ordering an uber. Kinda don’t like taking them alone so late at night anyway.”
“Great,” he slurs, “uh, sorry about tonight. My friends are… a lot.”
“It’s fine, you were having a good time,” you select a ride and black out your phone. “Just make sure you drink lots of water.”
“Hmm,” he hums, “you’re so nice… I’ll be fine, you know? I can take care of myself.”
“I know, I just… I hate hangovers.”
“Oh? Didn’t take you for a drinker?”
“Well, don’t tell mom but once in a while.”
“My lips are sealed,” he surprises you as he reaches to squeeze your shoulder. “And I’ve never broken a promise to a pretty girl.”
You want to laugh. He’s tipsy and it’s kind of cute. The glare of headlights flash over you and he drops his arm away from you. The uber approaches and you check the plate, pointing Bucky in ahead of you. 
He sidles over the seat and yawns as you climb in next to him. The driver confirms your destination as you let yourself relax against the seat. The tension of your shift slowly drifts away.
Bucky slowly slides until he’s leaning against you, “I’ll pay you back for the ride,” he grumbles as he rests his head on your shoulder. 
The tension seeps back into you but you try not to overthink it. He’s just your neighbour, a friendly neighbourhood dad, a bit discombobulated from his night out. He probably doesn’t get many of those.
“Been a long time since I went home with a girl like you,” he chuckles.
You laugh, a nervous tickle in your throat as his weight bears down on you. You can smell a hint of citrus from his hair. Hopefully he’ll forget this all by the morning.
You’re quiet as the driver continues on. By the time you get to your street, you’re sure Bucky’s fallen asleep. You’re worried about getting him back to his place. As you get close to your house, you point the driver to the house right beside your own. That’ll be easier.
To your surprise, Bucky sits up and lets out a sleepy grumble. You thank the driver as your neighbour grabs onto your hand and tugs you towards his side as he opens the door. You let him and he clings to you as the uber leaves you in the shadow of the Barnes’ abode.
“Let’s go to bed,” he pulls you towards the walkway.
“Bucky,” you utter, “uh, Mr. Barnes?”
Is he that drunk? He must not realise you’re not his wife. You look around. You don’t see her car. That explains his little boys’ night. She’s probably visiting family again so he’s all alone.
“Hey,” you laugh unevenly as he drags you up onto the porch. He’s very strong. “Mr. Barnes, it’s me.”
He stops and sways. He squints at you and feels his pockets, jangling his keys through the fabric. He steadies himself and grins. His eyes hold yours, drowning you in pools of oceanic blue.
“I know,” he says soberly, “it’s you.”
You stare at him in confusion, blinking as he slides his hand into his pocket. You glance over your shoulder at the dark siding of your parents’ house. You face him again as he pulls his keys out but drops them between his shoes. You put your phone in your purse and shift the bag to rest on your hip.
“I should– oop,” you look down, “Mr. Barnes,” you bends to grab the keys, “alright, I’ll just get you inside and head home.” You stand up and hold up his keys, “which one?”
He points to the square gold one and you shove it into the slot. You push the door inward and gesture him ahead of you. He shuffles over the threshold, tripping before barely catching himself on the frame. You follow him in and look around cautiously. You’ve never been inside.
“Let’s get you to the couch, Mr. Barnes,” you grab his arm as he wobbles, “you just need to sleep this off–”
You tug on his arm but he doesn’t budge. Once more, all unsteadiness fades and he’s suddenly immovably still. He turns his head slowly and puts his hand over yours.
“I told you,” he faces you as he guides your hand up his arm, “it’s Bucky.”
“Um, alright, uh–”
He backs you up and you collide with the door, the impact forcing it shut. You gulp and press yourself against the inside as he pens you in, clutching your hand to his shoulder. The beer on his breath mingles with the citrusy scent that cloys from him.
“Mr. Barnes, what–”
“Shhh,” his hand slips from your and he grips your chin, “it’s okay–”
“St–”
He smothers your protest with a kiss. You’re too stunned to do more than flatten yourself against the door. His grip makes your jaw ache as his other hand crawls up your thigh. You squirm and push against his shoulder with a whine.
He doesn’t relent. He pushes his foot between yours, edging them apart as he picks your fly open. You curl your fingers, jabbing your nails into him. He growls but doesn’t stop.
You turn your head, forcing your mouth away from his.
“Mr. Barnes… Bucky, please–”
He hushes you again as his hand falls from chin to throat. He squeezes, crushing out any hope of screaming for help. He nuzzles into the side of your neck, his nose tickling the line of your jaw. You whimper as his hand delves beneath the cotton of your panties.
His fingertips brush along your trimmed vee of hair and he swirls the short curls with a purr. He extends his middle finger, feeling along your folds and dipping between. He flicks his finger back and forth, exploring you until he finds your clit. He rolls his finger, stoking a heat beneath his touch.
You wriggle and trail your hand down his arm, gripping his wrist as you fight him. You’re too weak. You croak through your tight throat as you try to fight the swirling tide building with the friction of his roughened fingertip. This can’t be happening.
He’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not like this.
A million thoughts race with as many sensations. You stand on your toes as your muscles knots and the tension coils in your core. You shouldn’t feel like this. This is wrong. This isn’t real. Your eyes roll back and you hide behind your eyelids.
His finger glides as you slicken against him. He quickens his pace, toying with you as he breathes against your neck, puffing damply as his hand remains firm on you. He keeps you pinned as he goads your body on, fueling a fire you’ve never lit before.
You squeak as you twitch without permission. You succumb to the brewing storm, blown away in the whirlwind as your mind is stifled by your body. You gulp and gasp, your hand slipping down to his chest as your other falls away from his arm.
“You’re so sexy,” he purrs as he lets you go.
You brace yourself against the door, breathless and paralysed as you watch him raise his hand. He presses his fingertips to his mouth and you see the glisten on them. He pushes them inside and sucks them clean with a growl.
“And so sweet, baby,” he steps forward, crowding you again.
The afterglow has you helpless. He feels along your side as his other hand wanders down your leg. He pulls your knee up and brings himself flush to you. He bends his knees as he presses his crotch into yours. You murmur at the hot weight between you. 
He curls his arm around your neck and your head lolls back. He bows to kiss you, devouring you as he slowly rocks his hip. A fiery heat builds between the layers of fabric, the friction of your seam rubs you through the damp cotton of your panties.
He gasps into your mouth as his pace quickens. The door shifts and squeaks with his motion as he pounds you into it, hips pumping as his bulge pokes through his jeans rigidly. Your head droops to the side and his wet lips smear over your cheek. He bites into your ear lobe and snarls.
Another tickle flares and you moan. A small burst that has you just as senseless. Your delight leaks onto your panties, spreading to the edges.
“Mmmmm,” he hums and releases the pinch of his bite, “fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me go– right in my–” he chokes as his fingertips sink into the bottom of your thigh and he pulls your leg higher, “jeans–”
He shakes and lets out a long rattle, sprinkled with deep groans and soft mewls. He leans into you completely and shudders, stilling at last. He sinks down with you, bringing you to straddle him as his knees meet the floor.
You heave and lift your head, gaping at him as his eyelids droop sleepily. He smiles, the expression crinkling around his eyes. He leans in and kisses you again, nibbling on your lower lip before pulling away.
“I won’t tell your mom about that either, kitten.”
752 notes · View notes
tuiccim · 6 months
Text
Juxtaposition
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Pairing: Mafia Boss Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2174
Warnings: Smut, Dom/Sub, Oral (f rec)
Summary: Bucky Barnes is the boss of your city's mafia. You are the sweet, shy woman who has fallen in love with a bad man. At least, that's what everyone thinks.
A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.
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You took a deep breath as you walked past the line to the bouncer guarding the club doors. He knew you immediately and waved you through. 
“Evening,” Thor winks cheekily as he holds the door open for you. 
“Hi,” you demure. 
A guy at the front of the line takes offense at this and yells, “Hey! Why does she get in?” 
“Cause she’s a hell of a lot prettier than you,” Thor laughs unperturbed but with a warning look at the guy. 
“Can’t argue with that,” the guy shrugs, taking the hint. 
“Thank you,” you whisper shyly. 
“Anything for the boss’s girl,” Thor nods. 
You make your way through the crowded club as lights flash and loud music accompanies the many people bumping and grinding on the dance floor. You get to the bar and give a small wave to the two bartenders, Natasha and Clint. 
“He’s in the office,” Natasha says over the music while holding out a glass of scotch and a bottle of water to you.
“Thanks,” you say as you take the drinks. You make your way to the back hallway, currently guarded by Bruce, who smiles kindly and opens the door for you. You nod to him sweetly and hurry down to Bucky’s office door. Balancing the glass of Scotch carefully, you push the door open but stop short when you see Steve and Sam holding a man up by his arms as Bucky lands a solid punch to his gut. Obviously not the first one, the guy groans and remains slumped. Three heads snap up to see at your wide-eyed stare. 
“I-I’m sorry!” You exclaim quickly and begin to back out the door. Their captive’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice and you see his jaw drop at the sight of you. 
“It’s okay, Doll. Come in. We should have been done by now. I got a little carried away,” Bucky turns his attention back to the men but seeing the man’s eyes on you enrages him all over again. He punches him in the nose, easily breaking it and causing blood to gush , “Get this trash out of my office. If I ever see you around here again, if you ever even look at her again, Walker, you’ll be a dead man. You understand?” 
“Yes,” the man wheezes as Steve and Sam drag him out. You stare as they walk the man through the door, both making brief eye contact with apologetic looks. 
“We’ll take the trash out and get back to our post, boss,” Steve assures as he closes the door behind him. 
Bucky unbuttons his suit and takes a seat behind his large desk. He takes out a handkerchief and dabs at a small spot on his knuckle. Otherwise, he is immaculately clean despite the mess from the beating he had given. You make your way to the desk slowly and set down the drinks. He watches your every move with a hungry look. Licking your lips, you walk around to stand in front of him. 
“You’re early,” he says, eyeing you. 
You pick his arm up and look at the watch on his wrist, “I’m right on time.” You drop his arm and slap him hard enough to turn his head. As you stand there, he keeps his face turned away but you see the tick in his jaw. “How dare you make me see him. You should have been finished and ready for me.” 
His control is beautiful as you watch him carefully. He waits, not moving, for your permission. You had trained him well. 
“Speak,” you say quietly. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, moving only his lips. 
“Look at me,” you command. He complies immediately giving you a feeling of elation. “What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry he was still here when you got here. That I didn’t manage my time better,” Bucky says, jaw still clenched. You know he’s frustrated and turned on by the slap you had delivered. Judging by the red mark on his cheek, it was still stinging. 
You grab his face with one hand. Gripping the back of his chair with the other, you lean over him. “You aren’t sorry you beat him so badly?”
“No,” he growls. 
“No, what?” You squeeze his cheeks harder with annoyance. 
“No, ma’am.”
“You aren’t sorry that he’ll be in pain for days, weeks even?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good boy,” you smile down at him as you release your grip and slide to sit on the desk. You grab the glass of scotch and hold it out to him, “You look like you could use a drink.”
You waited until his hand was just within reach of the glass to pull back, “Have you hydrated today?” His clenched jaw gives you the answer. You tsk as you hand him the bottle of water. He opens it and obediently takes a sip. “All of it,” you instruct, tipping the bottle to his lips. He drinks while maintaining eye contact with you. When the last drop slides into his mouth you smile, “Good boy.”
“Does that mean I’ve earned my Scotch?” he asks carefully. 
“Mmm,” you consider the request as you roll the glass across your chest. “I think an apology is still in order. I said I never wanted to see him again and then there he is right in my face.”
“I apologize again, ma’am,” Bucky says, watching the glass move, wishing he could pour the contents down your chest and trace its path with his tongue. 
You lean forward with a small smile, reading his thoughts as clearly as he spoke them aloud, bringing your face close. Bucky’s mouth opens slightly awaiting your kiss of forgiveness but instead of giving him that relief, you bring the glass to your lips and take a sip of the amber liquid. With a smirk, you clarify, “Apology was the wrong word. I meant penance. So, precious, can you think of some way to make me forget seeing him again?”
As you speak, you propped your legs on each side of his chair, allowing the dress you wore to ride up your thighs. Bucky’s eyes blaze a trail up to the visible wet spot on your innocent pink panties. He loved this juxtaposition about you. To anyone else, you were a shy, innocent-looking woman, but with him, behind closed doors, you were a dominating seductress. It wasn’t anything he thought he’d ever want but since you’d show him that side of you, and himself, he’s been utterly lost to you. He would take down empires at your command, tear the world to shreds, while you stood at his side looking like the good woman who fell in love with a bad man. His dick twitched at the thought. His eyes snap up to yours, “May I touch you, ma’am?”
His gravelly voice shoots a thrill through you. He was so goddamn perfect staring up at you like that, full of want and admirable restraint. You nod, widening your legs. His hands are immediately under your skirt, reaching for your panties, and you oblige him by lifting up for him to pull them off you. Moving his chair closer, he wraps his arms around your legs. 
“Can I put my mouth on you, please?” His voice comes out in a desperate whisper as he leans a cheek against your thigh. 
“Are you getting hard already?” You croon. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he groans.
“Oh, precious, if you’re already getting hard from this little bit of teasing, I can just imagine how you’re going to be by the end of the night.” You decide to tease him and put your hand over your mound, “I don’t know if my poor little pussy can handle it. You look like you might not be able to control yourself. Maybe I should just take care of myself.” You dip your fingers into your wetness and slide them over your clit. 
“Please,” Bucky whispers as his eyes follow the movements of your fingers. 
“Please, oh! Please, what?” you whine breathlessly, moving more quickly. 
“Please let me put my mouth on you. Please, ma’am. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel so good,” he begs.
“Say please again,” you demand. 
“Please! Please, I need it! I need you, please!” Bucky’s words make you gush. 
“You’ll be gentle with me, won’t you, baby?” you tease him. He knows you can take it any way he could dish it out. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Show me,” you lean back on your elbows, giving him full access. 
He’s immediately kissing his way up your thighs with whispered words of affirmation, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be gentle. Fuck, I want you so much. Please, ma’am, I need to get my mouth on you, please.”
“Okay, baby. If you make me come with that tongue of yours, maybe I’ll accept your apology,” you encourage him. 
He wastes no time burying his face between your legs. He runs his tongue up and down your slit, laps at your clit, and moans as he tastes you. You grab a handful of his hair and tug at it to encourage him. Fuck, you live for this. For his compliance and skill at pleasuring you. The way he moved his tongue over your clit had your legs quivering. He used his fingers to play at your entrance and then slid them down to tease your ass before returning. When he slid one in and crooked it into your G spot, you bucked against his face while holding him tighter against you. 
“Using that tongue so fucking good. Fuck,” you can feel your orgasm building. He was good with his mouth, both talking and fucking with it. You lean your head back as you rock your hips. You grip his hair harder, pulling it from the tie that held it back. Silky soft strands tickled your thighs and his tongue worked double time until your body spasmed. You came hard, gripping his head with your thighs and rubbing your pussy against his face. 
“Fucking hell,” you whisper as you begin to come down. You release the vice-like grip you have on Bucky’s hair but his tongue is still making slow circles. “I forgive-”
The door slams open as Tony walks in, “Hey boss. I’ve got- oh.” 
You jump off the desk and turn away, pulling your skirt down before wrapping your arms around yourself. Bucky surges out of his chair with a growl. 
“Sorry, boss, didn’t realize you were in the middle of dinner,” Tony smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows. In a blink, Bucky has him by the neck and slams him against the wall. 
“Don’t look at her,” Bucky growls. “The fuck are you thinking?”
“You said you wanted to know as soon as I got the info. Your boys weren’t outside standing guard so I assumed it was just you three in here. My bad,” Tony wheezes. 
“I should rip your eyes and tongue out,” Bucky growls. 
“That would make me much less useful, boss,” Tony replies. 
“That’s the only reason I haven’t yet. Apologize.”
“Sorry, boss,” Tony mumbles. 
“Not to me,” Bucky whispers. 
“My sincerest apology, miss,” Tony says loudly in your direction but without looking at you, remembering Bucky’s earlier warning. Bucky looks over his shoulder at you and sees as you nod your head but then lift your hand as if wiping away a tear. He knows how shy you are around others. Like he said, you were a paradox. Shy, timid, demure even, when out in public. It was only behind closed doors that you became the self-assured domme who fascinated him. 
“Is it what we thought?” Bucky asks suddenly. 
“Yeah,” Tony nods. 
“Share the information with Bruce and the two of you need to take care of it. If it isn’t done by tomorrow night… you can still work with one eye, right?” Bucky says threateningly. 
“Consider it done.”
“I don’t,” Bucky lets him go but then punches him in the jaw. “Get out and get it done.”
“On it, boss,” Tony assures, holding his jaw. 
Bucky practically throws Tony out the door, meeting the shocked stares of Sam and Steve who were just returning. 
“Bring my car around,” Bucky says as he slams the door. Hurrying back over to you, he wraps his arms around you and cradles your face in his neck. “You okay, doll?”
You nod against his shoulder but are too overwhelmed to speak. Part of you is embarrassed to have been seen in such a compromising position, the other part of you is turned on by Bucky’s protective reaction. You cling to him, breathing his scent deeply to ground yourself. 
“Can I take you to my place? I’ll make this all up to you,” Bucky pulls back to look at you. He watches you closely and sees the moment your dominant side takes hold again. 
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Your eyes light and you smirk at him, “Yes, but I’m going to need a bottle of scotch and some handcuffs when we get there.”
Part 2
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Text
To Know Him Is To Love Him
summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.
pairing: steve rogers x reader
an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.
Anon's 1K Celebration
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to know him is to love him.
to know him is to stand by him.
to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.
to know him to to hope that one day he'll finally see.
to know him is to be broken by him.
you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.
three months ago...
you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.
you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.
"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."
"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.
"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."
your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"
"you know what i meant. you're my friend."
you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.
"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."
two months ago...
"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."
"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."
"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"
"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.
"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.
steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.
sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."
you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."
"soulmate?" sam teases.
you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.
how blind can he be?
one month ago...
"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."
it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."
"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"
you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."
"please, i need you."
putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.
his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.
you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.
you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.
to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.
he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.
you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.
you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."
"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."
his best girl.
he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.
"i missed you so much."
you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."
"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."
you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."
an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"
you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."
"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."
"i understand."
2 weeks ago...
you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.
each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.
you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.
in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.
time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.
you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.
still, he sought you out.
you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.
you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.
at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.
your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.
"steve?"
"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."
"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"
"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."
you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."
"thank you," he sighs in relief.
"what happened?"
"the worst date of my life."
you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.
and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"
"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."
you suck in a breath, "steve..."
these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.
suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.
and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.
you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.
"steve.." you sigh against his lips.
and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."
you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"
"i should go."
and he leaves without another word.
your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.
1 week ago...
he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.
to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.
he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.
"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.
you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.
you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."
you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.
now...
you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.
the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.
"steve," you try to interrupt.
"and all i want -"
"steve."
"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"
"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."
his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"
"you know why," you spit at him.
"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."
"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."
"i don't understand."
"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."
"they why do you answer the phone?"
"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."
"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"
"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."
"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.
a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."
"before? before what?"
each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."
"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."
"and then you kissed me!"
he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."
"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."
"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."
your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."
steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."
"why did you call me the other night?"
"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."
"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."
he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."
you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"
"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."
"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."
"i do love you."
you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."
"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."
"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."
he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."
"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."
steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."
you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."
"please," steve begs.
"goodbye, steve."
you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.
a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.
to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @buckybarnessimpp @withyoutilltheendoftheline
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lives-in-midgard · 3 months
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Stay With Me
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
Summary: Steve is there for reader after a mission.
Word Count: 830
A/N: Hey everyone! I had this idea when I saw the prompt: "Please, stay with me." of the Fluffcember from @buckys-wintersoldier But because it wasn't Christmas themed and then I also didn't have time I decided to not post it for the Fluffcember. So, here it is I hope you enjoy it!
Divider made by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
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Returning to the compound after a mission was not always easy. Sometimes it was, but not today. A lot of bad things happened on this mission, and you didn’t know how to deal with it right now. The whole flight you just looked at the ground, trying not to look at the others, but you could feel them all looking at you. Especially Steve, who sat across from you.
When the Quinjet landed on the compound, you were the first one who made their way out of it, not looking at any of the other Avengers. You could hear Steve calling your name but you didn't care, you just wanted to go home. Home to the comfort of your apartment.
When you got to your car, you turned on your favorite playlist as loud as you could and drove off.
The first thing you did when you got home was to take a shower and change into comfortable clothes. You quickly looked at your phone and saw that you had received a message from Steve.
"Hey y/n, are you okay?"
You didn't answer and put your phone away. Then you sat on the couch with a blanket over your shoulder and started thinking about the mission. How you almost caught the HYDRA agent until he suddenly escaped. How many people had to die. And then you started thinking about the moment you could have died until Steve came and saved you.
You sat there for a while until you heard a knock on the door. You weren't really in the mood to see anyone at that moment, but the person didn’t stop knocking.
After the tenth knock, or at least that’s what it felt like, you got up and went to the door. When you opened it, you saw a very worried Steve standing there.
"Hey." You said quietly.
"Hey." Steve said, looking over your body to see if he could see any injuries.
"I came here to check on you. You drove to your apartment so quickly after you got back to the compound." He said softly.
"Yeah, umm sorry. I just had to get away from there." You mumbled.
"You know what happened on the mission wasn't your fault, right?" Steve said, referring to the things that happened there.
"I don't know." You mumbled and looked at the ground.
"No, hey, it definitely wasn't your fault. You did your best; we all did our best." He said, took your hand and you looked back at him.
"Deep down I know this, but right now it feels like it’s all my fault."
"I know this feeling all too well. He paused a moment and then said.
"If you’d rather be alone now, I can go."
"No, please stay with me." You confessed and Steve gave you a comforting smile.
"Of course." He said and you opened the door more so he could walk in.
You both sat on the couch very close to each other so that your knee touched his. You sat in silence for a while until Steve said something.
"Actually I also wanted to check on you because I wanted to see if you have any injuries." You looked up at Steve who had another worried look on his face.
"I'm fine, I just have a few small scratches and a few bruises, but nothing serious."
"Are you sure?" Steve asked and you nodded.
"What about you?"
"Oh, you don't have to worry about me, sweetheart." You blushed at the petname he gave but tried to smile at him.
"How about we watch a movie and order some take out?" Steve suggested, placing a strand of hair behind your ear, making you a little nervous.
"That's a good idea." You smiled at each other. Steve suggested ordering the pizza while you searched for a movie. You found one that you remembered Steve wanted to watch and decided to pick that one.
You ate the pizza and watched the movie. After the movie ended, you decided to watch another one. You had a great time together and were really grateful that Steve came over. The movie had just ended when you decided to say something.
"Thank you, Steve. Not only for coming over but also for saving me on this mission." A small tear fell from your eye and Steve's gaze softened. He wiped the tear away and wrapped his arms around you. Then Steve pulled you into a tight hug.
"Of course, I saved you and came here. You mean so much to me." You sniffed a few times while Steve rubbed your back and hugged you for as long as you needed him.
After a while you broke the hug but stayed close to him. You placed your head on his shoulder, and he held you close to him. Steve insisted that he wants to stay the night to make sure you were okay and because he didn't want you to be alone.
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Taglist:
@marvelogic | @rogersbarber | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @nekoannie-chan | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @buckskemp | @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 | @cutedisneygrl | @mrsbuckybarnes1917
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Costumes- Carol Danvers
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Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader
Characters: Carol Danvers
Warnings: N/A
Request: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ - And lastly, a Carol Danvers one where she gets sent a picture of goose wearing a tie and collar from her gf yn and finds it cute, surprised goose let her do it. But when she comes home finds goose now wearing on of those fake lion manes you put over around their heads. Only to find yn has bought various outfits from bowties to booties to full outfits like tuxedos and halloween ones and has been taking pictures and videos of goose to show Carol when she comes back. Of course Carol finding this super cute but even more surprised goose let her do it. Until she assumes that goose really enjoys this and the affection she gets from yn. Okay please and thank you and hope the three ive sent weren't too long and too detailed lol have a lovely day/evening
Word Count: 467
Author: Charlotte
Having cuddled up with your pet flerken, you had struggled to stay awake, leaving the two of you snuggled up on the sofa and dozing off. With Carol away working somewhere on the other side of the universe, you enjoyed the company of Goose, making the most of the time the two of you got alone. With Carol’s work you rarely knew when she was actually going to come home, her schedule often changing frequently, leaving you pleasantly surprised whenever she did finally return to you.
Today she woke you up. You jumped awake, having fallen asleep with only a flerken in the house, but as soon as you saw Carol’s smile, you realised that it wasn’t someone having broken into your home.
“You’re home,” you lazily smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows, the flerken on your lap stretching out, having also just woken up.
“I finished up early and came home, I should be back for at least the next week,” she stated. “I do have a question though.”
“What?”
Carol looked down at her flerken before looking back up at you. “Why is Goose dressed as a lion?”
Your eyes became wide. You had hoped that Carol wouldn’t have seen the costume that Goose was wearing, normally having it removed before she was even on the same planet as you, but seen as you fell asleep, you hadn’t had a chance to hide it. The orange cat-like creature was contently sat on your lap, a fluffy mane around his face.
“He looks cute,” you smiled innocently. “And I think he likes it.”
“I’m surprised you still have your hands after putting that on him. I can’t believe he let you do that and that he fell asleep in it.”
You moved Goose to the sofa beside you as you made your way around to the side of the sofa.
“I have a little secret to do with what Goose and I get up to when you’re not home.”
You pulled out the box that you had slotted behind the sofa and hidden from your girlfriend since you had been living together. Moving the box onto the arm of the sofa, you opened it, revealing numerous cat-sized costumes and a small stack of photographs. You handed her the pictures.
“I dress him up whenever you’re gone. I didn’t think he’d let me at first, but I think he likes it, or at least he tolerates it,” you shrugged.
Carol flicked through the pictures, looking at Goose dressed up in a variety of different costumes.
“I don’t know whether to be mad that you hid this from me or to be happy at how adorable he is,” she sighed. “But for now you should be relieved that Goose likes you enough to dress him like that.”
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babyjakes · 3 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | monster fucking
pairing | steve rogers x fairy!reader
warnings | me knowing nothing about fairies. reader is in "fairy heat"? bruce captured reader (potentially inhumane conditions for fairy-keeping?) soft sweet steve. size kink LOL. th-thumb riding? fingering. p-pinky fucking? stretching. multiple orgasms. squirting. praise and encouragement that makes me feral. pity kink? is that a thing? if it is, i think i have it.
word count | 1,225
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an | i've never written monster fucking (or really anything super fantasy-oriented) so please be kind!! wasn't expecting to get sooo into this, but like there's just something about reader being literally so tiny that steve's pinky stuffs her to the brim that's making me all 🥲🫠😩
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what if bruce was off working in some top-secret remote location and brought you back with him: a sweet little fairy he'd captured while working out in the field, just as you were entering your fairy heat 🫠
maybe you're just about 7 inches tall, with the body/proportions of a grown young woman. he's been conducting research on your species for quite some time, so he's able to determine basics like your age, your likely place of origin, etc. he's thrilled to have caught you at the start of your heat
what's your fairy heat? i made that part up simple, it's the span of several days that occur around the same time every month when your body's at its prime and looking to breed. you become insatiably horny, almost to the point of it being debilitating, and all you can focus on during your excruciating waking moments is fucking yourself on anything of appropriate size in sight
you're kept in some sort of incubator in his lab, a glass box that's a few feet by a few feet wide and deep. the bottom of the enclosure is made of a soft cushiony material, making any spot a good spot to lay down and rest. miniature food and water bowls are set out for you, and a bright lamp hanging from the ceiling of the box shines 12 hours a day. it's a pretty miserable existence, your makeshift habitat nothing close to the wide open flower fields and prairies you're used to, but it allows the scientist to observe you closely without any distractions or interfering variables. and since you're in heat, you aren't too worried about where you are or who's taken you. all you can do is writhe around on the soft floor of the incubator in desperate, horny agony
maybe one day bruce is out of the lab, but he told steve he could come check out his new findings and maybe keep you company if you'd let him. when he enters the room and sees you lying there, squirming and struggling weakly, of course the supersoldier's heart is instantly hurting for you 🥺
he approaches the incubator slowly, not wanting to startle you. but pretty quickly he realizes that you're paying him no mind; you're too preoccupied with your discomfort. he takes his time observing you, standing right in front of the glass box as his huge frame towers over you. bruce told him a little about your condition and the science behind it. it made him blush, but he accepted it like he would learning about any other species and their unique reproductive habits
"poor thing," he hums to himself as he watches your tiny body wriggle in distress. he's stunned by how pretty you are. you have the most delicate little face, and your translucent wings with their iridescent shimmer look like something straight out of a fairytale movie. you're completely naked- bruce removed your scraps of moss carpeting and leaf clothing when he found you. but it's not strange or offputting in the slightest to steve. he just thinks you're beautiful, such a stunning little creature that seems too precious for this world 💕
he notices the plugged openings in the glass wall that allow bruce to reach in and work inside the enclosure. carefully removing the rubber inserts, he reaches a large hand in, wanting to offer you some comfort if you'll take it. you're so tiny that you could nearly crawl right into the palm of his hand and curl up if you wanted to
but snuggles are the last thing you're looking for in this moment. when you see his huge hand lying there, palm up just a short distance away from you, you weakly crawl over, wings drooping in exhaustion. you couldn't fly at the moment if you tried
steve is a little surprised as you hoist yourself up onto his thumb, your tiny legs dangling on either side of it. it only takes him a moment to realize what you're doing- his cheeks turn bright red as you begin rolling your hips desperately, a faint feeling of wetness forming on the pad of his finger as you leak your glistening juices all over him
"oh doll-" his voice is dripping with pity and concern. he doesn't try to stop you, just watches as you so needily try to relieve yourself. as strange as the situation is, he can't help but find your primal actions endearing, in a way
he continues watching sympathetically as you grind your tiny little pussy down against his large digit. his heart swells at the way you place your hands down in front of you, trying to keep yourself upright as you rock at a steady pace. just a few moments later, he sees your little body spasming and realizes you've reached orgasm by merely riding along on his finger. "oh my," he hums thoughtfully, watching as your precious little toes curl in delight
your face is much happier after your climax. steve watches curiously to see what you'll do next, staying silent as you climb off of his thumb and move to the other end of his splayed-out fingers. as you lie yourself down on your back and spread your legs out on either side of his pinky, he's again blushing deeply. "o-oh, hey little one-"
he watches as you begin pushing down to press the tip of his smallest finger up against your leaking hole. seeing how much you struggle to maneuver against him, steve takes even more pity on you. "here, doll. let me help," he decides, bringing his other arm through the unused hole in the glass. he moves it over to lift your back up gently, supporting you in a sitting position as he carefully begins easing his smallest digit up into you, smiling affectionately as you let out a soft sigh of relief
"there you go. that's it," he's murmuring encouragingly as he carefully fucks you with his pinky. your little pussy is so tight around him, he's surprised he's able to fit. but you're taking him so well, and there's something so sweet about the way you look as you sit here in his hands, letting him stretch you out over the smallest finger he has 💕
"good, just like that" "such a pretty little thing you are" "that feel good, doll?" "just keep taking it, sweetheart" "so good for me, keep going" he's not sure if you can understand his words, but there's something he finds satisfying about talking to you this way
he can somehow feel your second orgasm approaching, your walls growing a bit tighter around him as he works up his pace a little more to carry you over the edge. "there," he's humming proudly, smiling as you manage to squirt out forcefully against him. your come ✨literally sparkles✨ as it coats his finger
as you're floating down from your high, he strokes your hair with his thumb as you lean up against the rest of his hand that's behind you. your eyes are droopy, your body no longer writhing in discomfort. as questionable as his actions might've been, it's clear he's taken care of much of your discomfort- at least for now
whyyy was this hot 🫠🫠 maybe i need to write fantasy shit more often lol
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wlntrsldler · 3 months
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marvel masterlist
bucky barnes:
series
DOPPELGÄNGER: Bucky has only been in love once and it was before he was put in ice and way before he became the Winter Soldier. What happens when Bucky meets Y/N, the exact look alike of the girl he used to love? (Social Media AU) (WIP) DISCONTINUED
ROSES: Bucky tells Y/N he’s the Winter Soldier. The next day, he’s taken by the government and that’s the last Y/N sees of him... until they cross paths again. But what if Bucky doesn’t remember her? (COMPLETED)
TO BE SO LONELY: When Bucky and Y/N signed up for this online penpal system, they never expected to grow attached to the other person behind the screen. (COMPLETED)
FALLING: Bucky has been distant lately. Y/N doesn’t know why. (COMPLETED)
THE BREAKUP CHRONICLES: A collection of imagines that can be read independently or as a whole fic about Y/N and Bucky’s relationship post-breakup. DISCONTINUED
one shots
NOT MY TYPE AT ALL: Y/N isn’t Bucky’s type but honestly, he doesn’t care about that anymore. (Not My Type At All by Jacob Whitesides)
SLOW DANCING IN A BURNING ROOM: Y/N knew that Bucky had to leave someday but that didn’t mean that she was ready when the day came. (Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer)
CLOSE TO YOU: Requested! Bucky loves Y/N, he didn’t mean to snap at her. (Close To You by Rihanna)
LAST KISS: 1940’s Bucky tells Y/N that he got his orders. (Last Kiss by Taylor Swift)
KISS ME SLOWLY: Bucky keeps running away from Y/N. He doesn’t want to get attached. (Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute)
FALLING LIKE THE STARS: Bucky and Y/N fall in love but he’s sent off to fight the war. (Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur)
HARD PLACE: Bucky and Y/N can’t stop fighting and it’s getting too much. (Hard Place by H.E.R)
F&MU**: Bucky and Y/N hate each other… but they can’t stop letting their anger out through sex. (F&MU by Kehlani) 18+!
MAY I ASK: Y/N and Bucky see each other for the first time since the breakup. Y/N confronts Bucky on why he ended things. (May I Ask by Luke Chiang)
I WILL BE FOUND:  Bucky finally found the place where he belongs when he met Y/N but at times, he wished that he could somehow take the life he used to have and magically fit it into the life he had now. (I Will Be Found by John Mayer)
10 AM: REQUESTED! Bucky is hopelessly in love with Y/N. He stops himself from saying anything to her because he’s afraid of getting hurt again, not knowing how much more he can take in his lifetime. (10AM by Keaton Henson)
FLAWLESS**: Bucky and Y/N are friends with benefits. They found a new thing to play with in the bedroom. The Winter Soldier. (Flawless by The Neighbourhood)
CHERIE: Bucky doesn’t understand why Y/N is always so happy. He never thought he would be one of the people who got entranced by her until he was. (Cherry by Harry Styles)
TEE SHIRT:  Bucky and Y/N walk into a music shop and she hears the song her and her ex used to love playing in the background. (Tee Shirt by Birdy)
I’M LONELY: lex’s writing challenge! enemies to lovers; “Will you wait for me?” (i’m lonely by luz)
LOUD: Every time Y/N is afraid, she plays her music too loudly but this time, Bucky is there to comfort her.
BUBBLES: Short Bucky imagine about bubbles.
DOCTOR ME UP: Y/N is Bucky’s doctor when he wakes up in Wakanda. 
WHITE DRESS: Bucky loves her, so so much, especially as she walks down the aisle in her white dress. 
SHAWARMAS: Bucky has a crush on Y/N, the cashier from the Shawarma place. 
NO CLUE: Y/N and Bucky hate each other. Nobody knows why. Whenever someone asks, the pair just say, “I have my reasons.” Some think that something happened between them when Bucky was in hiding. Some think that Bucky did something to Y/N when he was the Winter Soldier. Some think that there’s no actual reason- they simply hate each other.
RITUALS: You died on a mission and all Bucky has left is the voicemail you left him before you got on the Quinjet. 
FAMILIARITY: Love is a foreign concept to Bucky. 
peter parker:
JEALOUS: Where Peter tells Y/N that he’s Spiderman and things go down. (Jealous by Labrinth)
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Text
Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”
Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.
“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.
Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.
“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.
Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.
Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.
“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”
Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.
“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.
His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.
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