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neonovember · 2 years

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steve rogers as a husband headcanon!

things about husband!steve that just makes sense

steve isn’t big on pda, thinks affection should be something private, he’s old school like that, there are some exceptions however, some very fun ones

even though he might be abit of an aversion to pda, steve will make sure that you know he’s just there

whether it be holding your hand, or his palm guiding you through a big crowd, he always feels a need to keep you at arms length.

steve is extremely protective of you..like bordering on possessiveness. he’ll even go as far are ignoring his own morals to make it sure, that people know his yours. It’s just that you’re the one thing that ever really grounds him back to earth, in moments where he gets lost in time and memories from before

“Hey I’m just saying, if you ever get bored of popsicle here, the iron suit is ready for you” Tony smirks, his legs perched against the coffee table. The Avengers are scattered around the tower's living room, half drunk and the other half trying to. You feel Steve’s grip on your waist tighten, and from the corner of your eye, you notice his orbs turning a ink-black. He leans across to Tony, whispering into his ear, the words falling out of his mouth like wine and into Tony. Tony’s eyes bludge comically, his throat bops as he swallows, nodding along to whatever Steve was saying, looking at you. Steve smiles, into his ear, it’s eerie, the way his canines glint under the high ceiling lights. You wish to the gods that you were given Bucky’s hearing but without a second, as if you had dreamt it in front of you, Steve is back beside you, only this time you feel his fingers slip between your thighs.

for some reason, I don’t get the whole “Steve being a horrible cook” trope, I genuinely think he’s an amazing cook and BAKER! that man can bake a mean batch of cookies

steve loves loves loves, calling you mrs rogers, or his wife. the first time he said it was well before you both uttered your vows, he just knew. oh and if you call him your husband? poor man will probably be hard for the rest of the day

steve has a breeding kink. we all know this, it’s practically attached to his file along with super soldier. but what most people don’t know is that he fucking lovess when you’re pregnant, it’s like senses go on overdrive until all he breathes, thinks and eats ;) is you.

steve has this fear of abandonment, mostly because he was, by his own country for a century. It seeps into his relationships, you’ll see if when he comes home from long missions and it’s as if he’s walking on eggs shells. His shoulders are tense and his holding his breath as if he’s just waiting to find the house bare and empty and your belongings gone. He gets really sensitive then, all murmurs and soft kisses and just holding you to remind himself you’re here.

there will absolutely be a time where steve fucks over the kitchen sink. the dirty dishes left abandoned (should I write this?)

steve can get a little anxious, and so his wedding band is something he’ll ALWAYS play with, he’ll twist its around his finger as a kind of reminder.

you love to tease him by bringing him lunch at the compound, wearing one of those sun dresses he adores because it gets him so. fucking. hard. He wont ever tell you though, just have to deal with it until he can get home, and by then you already panty less and on your knees waiting for him.

steve will probably force you to train with him, even if you can kick ass, he’ll pull a fitzgerald and force those trainers on you. poor boy is just scared that something will happen to you when his not there, plus, seeing you fight kinda turns him on. (just like anything else you do really)

Steve’s really bad at technology, we all know this, but he absolutely will try to learn how to use a phone so he can send you texts and updates throughout the day. he’ll take random pics of tony and sam when their not looking, take some Facebook mom ass selfies, take pictures of things he wants to draw and ask you if they’d look nice, he’s mind just constantly finds it’s way to you

cockwarming with husband!steve. that’s it

you help steve open up to the new things in this century, take him out to help him ease himself into the real world. people forget he never really got that chance, he died in one war only to be pushed into another.

it’s through you that steve learns that he’s obsessed with avocado. on toast, in milkshakes, everything, he’d literally a millennial

when things get too much, you’ll draw a bath and the both of you will just sit in the steaming water filled with some bubbles, candles illuminating the room instead of lights, and the ceiling to floor windows open. skin to skin helps steve calm his nerves, and it’s not abnormal for you both to stay in that position for hours

steve still gets shy around you, no matter how many years he’s been with you, he’s still that boy from brooklyn with a heart too big for him

steve has absolutely zero self control when it comes to you, say something nice about a necklace you see passing by? It’s on your neck the next day. Hears the sound of a slight rumble in your stomach? Steve’s whipping out his apron and making you eat something

steve is the type of man to never let you go to bed angry, even if you’ve both had a fight and he ends up on the coach it won’t be too long before you both find yourselves in the middle of the hallway missing each others touch

“babygirl, honey, my wife, doll, gorgeous”

you take priority over a lot of things in Steve’s mind, he’s never ever late to dinner, he’d rather lose his leg than disappoint you

sundays are for sex and sleeping

steve fucked you one time really hard over a drawer or ottoman and BROKE IT. now he’ll spend saturdays carpenting reinforced drawers, counters and bed frames ;)

makeup sex, and face and thigh riding <3

steve always feels as if he’s leaving a part of himself at home or with you whenever he leaves, he’s constantly watching the clock and bouncing that leg of his to get back to you.

steve would probably let bucky watch him fuck you..maybe.

even though I believe steve would be really possessive I also think he could easily be very private about his relationship with you. like that scene in aou where we meet Clint’s family? fury will probably drive up to some big cabin house with the avengers in the back and they’d be confused af when they open the door to find steve and you cooking in the kitchen with your kids running around the place.

“How much longer Fury, my backs starting to ache with this stiff as seat and Bucky’s feet in my face” groans Sam, leaning away from Bucky’s towering figure. “It should be around the corner” motions Fury, and just as promised the avengers pull into an expansive cabin house, elegant with is softened wood and timber gate ribboning around the land that seemed to stretch endlessly. When Fury had told them that he needed to grab something, they didn’t think it would end up with corny 70’s tunes cranking out throughout the car, one and a half hours from the city.

“This looks…lived in” Nat remarks, her fingers brushing against her holister, ears perked for any signs of human activity.

“Yeah, Fury, are you having us raid some lumberjacks generational home” Tony barks, stretching out his arms

“Just shut up and follow me” Fury sighs, before stepping through the gate and following the stone path. Wiping his boots across the mat, his reaches for the door, opening into the hallway of the strange home.

“Wipe your shoes, she hates when you trek mud in” Fury calls before walking in as if he owned the place

“She?” Thor whispers, what they all but Bucky thought. They followed unspeaking down the hallway leading to an open floor, the scene infront of them had their mouths hanging.

There Steve, their stone faces leader, fucking sautéing onions on large brimstone stove, laughter falling from his lips as you whispered into his neck. You were a sight to see, a dress falling onto your body like silk, cascading againts your curves, your hair was in an updo, curls draining your face and a bright smiling lighting up your eyes.

You were absolutely gorgeous, and to see Steve react to your affection in such a way told them you were more than just an old friend

“Bucky!” You smiles, reaching for the dark haired man, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“Hey sweet girl” Bucky smiles, gripping you.

Sam looked towards Bucky in disbelief, eyes shooting bullets at Steve in mock betrayal

“Really? You’re going to tell the ex murderer about your little secret life but not your saviour?” Sam mutters, before steve laughs gripping his chest.

“Sam meet my wife, doll now you know why I don’t let them near you” Steve whispers into your ear, making you giggle.

Sam reaches for your hand but you ignore it, going for a hug. “Oomf, hello to you too” Sam laughs hugging you back

“Hey Fury” You smile, waving a hand towards the man who nods in return.

“You all must be Natasha, Thor, Clint and Tony?, it’s so great to finally meet you” You speak, dimples pressed into your cheek

Clint seems to be the only one who snaps out of the rest of the avengers stupor, “I see you’ve pulled a Barton” He jokes, hugging you.

Once the rest of them finally greet you, along with some condescending remarks from Tony about “how the hell did you land her?!” The avengers sit around the table, drinking beer and eating good food and getting used to seeing Steve with his wife on his lap.

that’s all I have for steve at the moment, I’ll probably add way more later but I haven’t been uploading in ages and thought this would a quick little head canon for our spark spangled soldier!

p.s! requests are always open ;)

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evansbby · 2 years

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bestie pls feed us spanking blurb, the immediate urge and need to be over daddy mafia ari’s lap whilst he just ignores ur pleas and cries and pulls down ur panties and spanks u 🥺😌

I’m literally at an airport so this’ll have to be brief but here goes… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pairing: mafia!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

Warnings: dark!Ari, dd/lg, smut, spanking, daddy kink, voyeurism, dry-humping

Summary: Your daddy punishes you after you accidentally say a bad word.

“Daddy, please!” You cry, desperately wiggling around in Ari’s strong arms. He’s got a death grip on you, however, and he’s barely using even a quarter of his strength. “Please, didn’t mean to say it! Please!”

You hate punishments — especially spankings because they hurt and make you cry like a baby — even when you try your hardest to be brave. Even right now, you look at Ari with the biggest puppy-dog expression, eyes welling with tears.

“Honey, you know daddy has to punish you. Else you’ll never learn.” Ari’s got his stern voice on, which lets you know that there’ll be no worming out of this one. He easily manoeuvres your flailing body across his lap, pinching the flesh of your ass in warning, “and stop moving or else I’ll use my belt.”

You still immediately. He’s never used his belt on you but you don’t want today to be the day he does.

Sniffling, you look over your shoulder at him dejectedly, “Said I was sorry, daddy. It’s just— the oven was so hot and I forgot I’m not allowed to use big girl words— it just came out, I swear.”

Ari sighs, methodically flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties down, and he can’t help but squeeze the bare flesh of your ass. “Well, that’s another strike, because you shouldn’t be using the oven without supervision anyways.”

You pout, “b-but I’m your wife— how else am I supposed to cook for you? Ow!”

Ari gives your ass a firm slap, admiring how it jiggles, “Don’t get sassy with me, honey. You’re my wife but you’re also my baby. And what have I told you about babies?”

You hang your head dejectedly and recite: “babies like me aren’t allowed to do big girl things without daddy’s permission.”

“Good girl.” Ari strokes your hair back, petting your head like you’re his puppy, and you can’t help but lean up into his touch. “Now, baby. I want you to count every spank, and thank daddy after each one. Got it?”

Your lower lip quivers but you try to be brave, “Y-Yes, daddy.”

SMACK.

“O-One. Thank you, daddy.”

You grimace, biting your lip to keep from crying out loud. And Ari’s really enjoying himself, squeezing and groping at your sizzling flesh after every few spanks, as if he can’t help himself. He even presses his lips down on the sensitive flesh of your ass cheek, kissing you softly before landing another harsh smack.

“Look at your little baby ass, practically begging for a good old-fashioned spanking.” Ari murmurs, jiggling your cheek lewdly and making you wince because it hurts so much. “Baby wives like you need their daddies to keep them in check like this every once in a while, don’t you agree, honey?”

SMACK.

“T-Ten, thank you, daddy! I agree!” You cry, silently begging for mercy yet at the same time wiggling downwards, unable to keep still because the rough denim of his jeans feels so good against your throbbing pussy.

“Now look at you, wet from a spanking and humping your baby pussy on daddy’s leg like a little bunny in heat.” Another spank, and another one, and now you’ve lost count. “And in front of all your little stuffed animals too? You must feel so ashamed.”

You tearfully glance at all your stuffies, longing to have your stuffed rabbit, Floppy, in your arms to comfort you. Instead, you receive another series of hard slaps, the lewd sound of the smacks echoing around the room.

“Apologise to them too.” Ari orders you, voice dripping with authority and sick lust. “C’mon, honey. Apologise to your little stuffies for being such a naughty baby with a potty mouth.” He slaps your upper thigh and you hiss in pain, “Tell your little friends what a bad girl you are.”

“I’m a bad girl!” You cry desperately, unable to lock eyes with the toys, feeling silly and ashamed and humiliated all at once. “I’m sorry, stuffies and I’m sorry, daddy! Won’t ever swear again, please!”

A final slap and then Ari’s pulling you upright, gathering you in his arms while you sob into his chest. “There, there, baby.” He coos, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair back, “Daddy had to do it. How else will little babies like you ever learn the rules?”

More kisses, more fondling, and he even licks up the stray tears falling down your cheeks.

“I know you’re just a baby and it’s confusing for you to remember all our rules— but that’s why you need daddy. I don’t want to hear another swear word come out of your mouth, you got that, honey? And no going near the oven, either. It’s dangerous for babies.”

You sniffle and nod, feeling especially small — as if you truly are his baby — as Ari cuddles you. Readily, you accept his thumb when he pushes it against your lips, sucking on it noisily to calm yourself down from the whole ordeal you’ve just gone through. Your ass feels like it’s on fire but you know that your daddy knows best.

“That’s my good little baby,” Ari coos, pinching your cheek and holding you close. And it’s crazy how he’s made you so addicted to his babying, to the point where you physically need him to act like this with you — especially after harsh punishments like this.

“Curtis.” Your eyes widen at Ari’s suddenly gruff tone, and your blood runs cold when you see your husband’s right hand man step out of the shadows in the corner of the room.

Had he been there this whole time?

“Cancel my meetings for today. My wife is being particularly needy.” He gestures down at you lying mortified in his lap, trying to push your skirt back down as you desperately continue to suck on your daddy’s thumb.

“Got it, boss.” The buzzcut-haired man nods and leaves, and Ari turns his attention back to you.

“Next time you break one of daddy’s rules, I’ll spank you in front of all my men, you got that?” He shoved his thumb further into your mouth, choking you slightly as your eyes begin to water, but he’s got the same loving look on his face.

“My little baby… soon enough I’ll have you trained to know all of my rules, even if it’s too much for your little baby brain to handle.”

THE END

AHHHH PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!! I wrote majority of this at the airport then finished it just now!!

#chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #Chris evans #Steve rogers #Ari levinson smut #chris evans fanfiction #Ari drabble #mafia ex husband ari au #dark ari levinson

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months

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Milk and Cookies » Steve Rogers/Captain America

December 5th

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Steve Rogers x Wife/Mom!Reader with son James

Summary: Steve’s and Y/N’s 4 year old son can’t sleep so Steve lets him snack on milk and cookies.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, hugs and kisses, cuddling, nicknames for son (buddy, sweetie), pet names for Y/N (sweetheart)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

“Daddy!” Steve hears a little voice.

“Daddy!” He hears again with a small hand tapping his arm.

Steve’s eyes open to see his and your 4 year old son James standing on his side of the bed. He checked the time on his phone which displayed 1:32am.

“What’s wrong, buddy? Why aren’t you in bed?” Steve asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Can’t sleep.” James says with a pout.

“You can’t sleep?” He says.

“No.” James nodded his head.

“I have an idea.” Steve says, getting out of bed.

Steve picked up James and quietly went downstairs so him and James didn’t wake you up. Steve sat James on the counter and rummaged through the cabinets causing James to furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“What you doing, daddy?” James asks.

“Looking for the cookies.” He says.

“Cookies?” James asks, tilting his head slightly.

“Yes. Cookies.” Steve says.

When Steve found the cookies, he put them on the counter next to James and grabbed two cups and the milk from the fridge.

“Your grandma did this when I was your age when I couldn’t sleep.” Steve says as he poured milk in the cups.

“Your mommy did let you eat milk and cookies past your bedtime?” James asks.

“Sometimes.” He says with a smile.

Steve grabbed a couple of cookies, giving one to James. James took it from his daddy and dipped it in the milk and took a bite of it.

“Daddy, who was I named after?” James asks curiously.

“You were named after uncle Bucky. Daddy’s best friend.” Steve tells him.

“I thought his name was Bucky?” He asks confused.

“It is. His middle name is Buchanan, but he goes by Bucky.” Steve explains.

“Oh ok.” James eats the rest of his cookie. “Can I watch cartoons?” He asks.

“Normally I would say no, but yes you can. Don’t tell mommy.” He says.

“No tell mommy.” James says.

Steve cleaned up the little mess of cookie crumbs on the counter and put the cookies away. He picked James up off the counter and walked to the living room and sat down on the couch with him in his arms.

“What do you want to watch?” Steve asks, turning on the TV.

“SpongeBob!” James says excitedly, clapping his hands.

“Why SpongeBob?” He asks.

“Uncle Peter lets me watch it at his house and he’s funny!” He tells his daddy.

Steve chuckled at his son’s cuteness and put SpongeBob on. It didn’t take long for James to fall asleep. Steve noticed and grabbed a blanket from the other side of the couch. He carefully laid down with James on his chest and covered the both of them up. He wrapped his arms around him protectively and kissed the top of his head. Steve fell asleep soon after.

When morning came, you rolled over to wrap your arm around your husband only to find out that he wasn’t in bed. You got out of bed and went to James’s bedroom, thinking Steve was in there, but he wasn’t. You began to panic. You quickly went downstairs, but heard the sound of the TV coming from the living room. You went to the living room to see James playing with some of his toys on the floor and Steve sleeping on the couch which made you feel relieved. James looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, mommy!” James smiles.

“Good morning, sweetie!” You bent down to kiss his forehead.

“Daddy sleeping.” He says in almost a whisper.

“I see that.” You say.

You sat down on the couch and leaned down to give Steve a kiss on his cheek making him smile. He opened his eyes to see you sitting next to him. Steve sat up and gave you a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Do you want to explain why you were in bed when I woke up?” You asked your husband.

“James couldn’t sleep last night.” Steve says.

“Daddy let me eat milk and cookies and let me watch cartoons, but you’re not supposed to know!” James chimes in.

“Oh really?” You say, looking at your husband.

“I thought it would help him sleep.” He says.

“I did go back to sleeps!” James says.

“Well that’s good. What do you want for breakfast?” You asked.

“Pancakes!” James says with excitement.

“Alright. You two stay here and I’ll make breakfast.” You say, standing up and went to the kitchen.

“Thank you!” James and Steve say at the same time.

“You’re welcome!” You say back.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

-Bucky’s Doll

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louwaffles · 2 years

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Y/N: Has anyone seen my--

Bucky: Handsome-ass husband?

Sam: Best-fucking friend?

Steve: Your literal ride-or-die?

Y/N: No, my pregnancy test.

Bucky, Sam, Steve:

Y/N: Ha ha, jokes. I have no uterus.

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enchantedsoulofmine · 1 year

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Chris’ Instagram but he’s married to you.

chrisevans

liked by chrishemsworth, elsapataky, and 13,245,567 others

chrisevans Disney and chill

-View all 78,980 comments

chrisxedits their room looks so comfy lol🥹

chrisupdates chris and y/n love pepperoni pizza as well

chrisevans

liked by chrishensworth, henrycavill and 14,356,920 others

chrisevans yourinstagram❤️

-View all 35,678 comments

chrisxevans omg them>>>>😭❤️❤️❤️

ynupdates this is so wholesome damn🥹

chrisevans

liked by chrishemsworth, tomholland2013 and 16,756,897 others

chrisevans with this person, everything is beautiful❤️

-View all 43,231 comments

yourinstagram I love u to the moon and back chrisevans🤍

zendaya awwieeee 🥹❤️

chrisevans

liked by henrycavill, chrishemsworth and 23,456,972 others

chrisevans together, forever

-View all 46,768 comments

chrisfanpage omgggg🤍✨

elsapataky you guys🥹

yourinstagram elsapataky❤️

~~~

if you want any celebrity as y/n then pls tell me,I’ll do it.

Should I do a pregnancy one too?

~~~

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just-callmeanna · 11 months

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Safe Space- Chris Evansxfemlistener Fic

Safe Space- Chris EvansxfemReader Fic/Fluff-comfort

Summary: you had an awful day but Chris is always there to keep you safe and warm.

It had been a long day, you had a lot to do, little time, stress and anxiety, which didn't help much to say the least. Specifically today was one of those days when you felt like you were too overwhelmed by your own thoughts and felt down without knowing why; as if your emotional stability was an unpredictable and violent roller coaster. When you finally got home and let go of all the weight you were carrying, you headed to the kitchen to find Chris preparing some dinner while dancing to the rhythm of “uptown girl”. You saw him standing there and couldn't help but run up to him and hug him from behind, hooking your hands over his chest.

“Hey, hi my love, how are you, how was your day...?”-He asked while paying attention to the mix of vegetables he was chopping, pretty much focused on what he was doing, as you tried to find a coherent answer a lump formed in your throat and in spite of parting your lips to pronounce any word, nothing came out and at the moment he noticed you didn´t answered he turned in your direction, pretty much worried by now... -”hey...Are you ok honey?” - he pronounced with his gentle and kind tone. Again, you tried to part your lips to answer, but in a matter of seconds your voice broke completely and suddenly started to cry, feeling the urge to sink in his embrace, sticking your cheek to his back so he wouldn't see you sob- “Hey, hey, what happened honey, don't you feel good?” -. Suddenly he grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you against his chest knowing that you needed to get everything off your chest first so the both of you could talk more calmed. He held you securely in his arms as he gently caressed the skin of your face with his fingertips and brushed the tears from your eyes and made you feel better. - “Shh, everything is okay sweetheart, breathe”. A few more minutes passed like that until your breathing finally regulated a little.

- Well, now that you are that you can breathe properly, tell me, you´re okay now or maybe you need to sit down and talk about what happened, maybe a couple of cuddles or better have dinner and talk about it later... just tell me how you need my support now love? - he pronounced as he gently brushed a lock of hair away from your face and gently nudged your cheek with his nose in a playful way that only he knows you pretty much love. -Could you hold me... please- you uttered softly with some regret. Immediately and without another word he pulled you aside for a moment, turned off the stove and immediately carried you in his arms as if you just weighed as much as a bunch of grapes and took the both of you to the bedroom you shared finally,. He putted you very gently under the blankets and then layed down beside you and pulled you closer to his chest if it was humanly possible. .

-I love you..." with his fingers under your chin he pushed lightly to make you lift your gaze to meet his. -You are my special girl, my princess, the woman of my dreams, the owner of my breath and my every thought. You are the one who gives meaning to my life... and I hope I can be the one who makes you feel safe and loved you as much as you deserve- He left a couple of kisses on my nose and cheeks interrupting the path of my tears. - My priority is to make you feel loved, desired, protected, listened to, reassured.

you snuggle more into his chest if it is still possible; in his arms you felt so small, but at the same time safe. With more security I separate yourself a little from the space between his chest and make a light traverse pressing small kisses from his neck to his lips -You are all I need, you´re my home-.

Closing your eyes again you snuggled back into his arms releasing in a sigh the weight you felt on your chest. you felt him shift a little and let go of the blanket covering me up to your neck. -I'm going to bring dinner and after we eat we can watch any movie you want. - And after a short kiss on the forehead he left the room. This man is definitely the best thing in your life.

When he came back, he left a small table with a hot plate of pasta and a small glass of wine. You two ate dinner in silence, placidly while "Dirty Dancing" was playing on the TV. the both of you finished eating and layed down together with the intention of finishing the movie, but who were you kidding; both fell asleep too soon to even see the end, but to be honest, it's impossible to beat sleep in those conditions: being in the arms of the one you love, the warmth of the blankets, a full stomach and the feeling that you were perfectly alright in his embrace.

__________________________________

Hi sweets ;),I hope you´re having a great weak and I really hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote too. Again I´m opened to comissions or ideas you have. Love you all. xoxo

#chris evans #chris evans x female reader #steve rogers #steve rogersxreader #chris evans x femreader #chris evans fluff #chris evans fandom #chris evans fics #chris evans husband #husband material #fluff #marvel au

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springdandelixn · 2 years

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Tonight

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41763255

Husband!Steve x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your husband, Steve, takes care of you after an exhausting day at work.

Warnings: Fluffy Husband Steve

Just a quick drabble that came to me the moment I woke up. Might be a bit sloppy but I hope you enjoy. Comments, reblogs, likes are all appreciated! uwu

You were exhausted when you got home from work. The meeting with a potential investor for your company’s latest project took longer than expected and it was already past midnight when you got home.

To your surprise, Steve was still up. A book in his hand while sitting in his armchair, a smile on his face when he saw you then a frown when he got close and truly saw you. His words full of concern didn’t come to you as a surprise, knowing full well that the long sleepless nights to prepare the presentation for your meeting had finally taken its toll, not just on your face but on your body as well.

You declined his offer to eat, telling him that you were more tired than hungry, to which he nodded and took your hand, taking your bag from the other and dropping it on the couch before leading you up to your bedroom.

“Let me take care of you.” He said as he sat you down on the bed, his lips pressing softly against your forehead before he ran into your ensuite, the sound of running water filling the room.

That’s how you find yourself sitting in the tub with warm water, feeling the aches of your muscles from your heels and from sitting too long in your office chair subside, the scent of roses kissing your nostrils from the bath that your husband has prepared for you.

It’s one of the things you love about Steve. How doting he is of you even while the both of you were dating. That he would find the time to see you, even if it was just a few hours or even a few minutes before he was called for a mission, remembering him telling you that he didn’t want to go away for days without telling you goodbye.

Even to the point that on random days you would text him some nonsense, like the time you told him how you were craving Chipotle because you saw one of your co-workers having it for lunch, screams of delight sounded outside your office soon after that when you looked out to see what the commotion was all about, you saw Steve by the entrance of your department floor, women fawning over him, then holding up a paper bag of Chipotle when he saw you from across the room.

And even now that he’s fully retired from being an Avenger and transitioned into becoming the training leader for SHIELD, he’s never changed. Still the ever-supportive husband that you have never once in your life imagined you would ever have.

You drain the bath and stand from the tub, drying yourself with a towel before grabbing your robe from the hook and putting it on. When you walk out of the bathroom, your eyes spot the blue silk camisole and shorts sitting on the top of the bed.

“Enjoyed your bath?” Steve asks when he walks into the room, a smile on his face when he sees you.

You nod in response and he walks closer, his hands resting on your hips before he unties the knot of your robe, the fluffy garment sliding down your arms before he takes the camisole from the bed and urges your arms up.

“Steve,” You giggle when you do as he bids, the silk fabric sliding down your body and hanging loosely on your shoulders. “I can dress myself.”

“I know, hon. But allow me tonight.” He takes the shorts next and you rest your hands on his muscular shoulders, when he bends down in front of you, lifting your legs up one by one to allow him to slip you into your bottoms.

He takes hold of your hips when you finish and leans over to press a kiss just above your belly button before lifting you from the ground, a light squeal of surprise leaving your lips before he lays you down on the bed, pulling the duvet over your body.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you sink into the soft mattress, your eyes almost instantly drooping that you barely see your husband take off his shirt, leaving him in his blue boxer briefs and joining you underneath the covers after he clicks off the lamp.

You scoot closer when he wraps his arms around you, your head resting against his strong chest and closing your eyes as sleep begins to loom over you.

“Today was very nerve-wracking—” Your words get cut off when you feel his lips on yours, making you look up in curiosity as to why he stopped you.

“I would really love to hear about how work went, Hon, but that can wait for tomorrow.” He hums and presses another kiss on your lips. “Tonight, you rest. No thinking of work or talking about work. No stress, just rest.”

“Okay.” You mumble with a smile and reach over to kiss his lips in return. “I love you, Steve. Thank you.”

“I love you too.” You sense his smile. “Now sleep.”

And you do. Your face buries in the crook of his neck as you press yourself closer to him, his arms releasing all the tension that has accumulated for the day and your drift, thinking about how lucky you are to have someone like Steve in your life.

#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #captain america #steve x you #husband steve #drabble #steve rogers fluff #fluffy steve #steve rogers fanfiction #mcu #mcu au #coconut bun stories #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x f!reader

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coltrainbat · 1 year

Note

Small sized reader wants to get tied up so she could get fucked hard by her husband, Steve rogers

Roped Up

A/N: Enjoy 💕☘️

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, daddy kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, rough sex, orgasm, P in V, bondage

You watched as Steve cut off the rope holding your Christmas tree together. You didn’t know such a small, mundane movement could turn you on. His veins pulsated as his used the sheers to cut the taunt rope, his tongue sticking out a little as he focused on the task at hand. Catching the loose rope in his hands as it sprung around the tree. You sat on the couch, glass of wine in hand admiring the man in his grey sweater and jeans.

“What you want me to do with these bub?” He held up the long thick ropes in his hand, 4 strands of beige yarn. You got up from your spot, hand falling to his waist and pulling him closer into a kiss. “I have an idea.” You purred into his ear as blush rose to his cheeks.

“What is it honey? Seems you’ve had a bit too much wine baby girl.” He pulled your chin up to him.

“I’m just drunk on you.” You took the ropes from his hands, turning around and making your way up the stairs.

He almost tripped following you up the stairs, quick on your step as you rushed towards your bedroom, giggling at the sudden game of cat and mouse. Until you felt the sudden tackle of Steve behind you onto the bed, falling into a fit of laughing you turned onto your back.

Eye to eye with the gorgeous man. He ran his nose along your jaw, nibbling at the skin on your neck.

“What’s your idea gorgeous girl?”

“Tie me up.” His head peaked up, a quizzically look on his face as he studied your face for a hint of humour. “What?” “Like my wrists and ankles. Tie me up to the bed and then…” You wrapped your arms his neck, bypassing his lips quickly towards his ear “Fuck me.” You bit your lip noticing the sudden darkness of his eyes.

He groaned, grabbing the ropes from beside you.

“Starfish. Now.” You hurried to the top of the bed, lying on your back, still in your baby pink slip. You reached to pull it over your head.

“No. Keep it on.” He growled at you, pulling on your left ankle roughly. He positioned the rope in a circle around your ankle, tightening the strand in a quick motion

“That too tight?” He looked up at you, concern on his face. “Tighter.” You purred at him. He smirked, tightening it harder so it pinched against your skin. You moaned at the feeling of pressure. He anchored it to the golden bed post.

Repeating the action on the other foot. He placed his knee on the bed, moving up towards you, grabbing your hands and cuffing them over your head, fastening them together against the headboard.

Moving down past your lips, you groaned at the lack of kisses. “Stop whining, or I’ll tie your mouth up as well.” You bit your lip as excitement formed between your legs.

Leaving soft, wet kisses against your neck, moving your dress to the side with his face, he cupped your breast in his hand as he placed the nib in his mouth, sucking lightly, grazing his teeth against the sensitive nipple. You moaned at the sudden pressure.

He pulled away, towering over you as his fingertips grazed along your body.

“You’re so petite baby, look at you all helpless and tied up.”

Desperately wanting to rub your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs. You tried to move into his touch, unable to get a few inches off the bed with the tight restraints holding you down. Steve quickly bunched the slip over your hips, exposing your heat to the cool winter air.

He blew hot air onto your core, you squirmed at the contrasting temperatures.

He stood up, slowly pulling his sweater over his head and throwing it across the room. His hands palmed over his thick chest down towards his zipper.

All you could do was watch his taunting strip tease, desperately wanting to run your nails down his chest. Revealing his hard member, he pulled down the final layer of cloth. The cotton that confined his hard, thick cock from your aching hole. Moving his head down towards your now soaking pussy, he gave a soft kiss to your puffy folds. Peaking his tongue out to taste your arousal. He simply couldn’t help himself to tease you, addicted to the taste of you he devoured your sex, vacuuming up your fluid with his mouth.

His head rose, rubbing the glistening sheen on his chin with the back of his hand.

“You ready baby?” He rubbed his bright pink head against your messy wet folds.

Even in moments of deep intense pleasure, Steve would still take the time to ensure your comfort. It made you want him more.

“Just fuck me already.” You groaned, desperate to feel him.

He pushed against your tight hole, desperate to feel his length be wrapped up by your velvet walls but also conscious to not hurt you.

“More” you moaned. It was all he needed

Your habit during sex was always to run your hands through his hair and down his back towards his juicy peach of an ass, leaving long red lines. Your instincts want to give in, but you can’t even touch him beyond the feel of his chest against yours as he lays his weight on you.

Mouth finally reaching yours, as his tongue explored, fighting for a sense of control you’d never get as you shoved your tongue deep in his mouth. Moaning at the sensations of his small little patch of hair rubbing over your mound, the feeling of his head grazing your g spot over and over. Trapped between his biceps on either side of your head.

The position while limited, Steve used all his skills to keep a decent pace, hitting your g spot continuously, his hand trailing down to your lower stomach, pushing down on his member that was visibly inside of you.

“That feel good baby? … look at that - you can see me inside of you.” The depth of his thrust only pushing you further towards an orgasm,

“Daddy I’m gonna cum!” Your hands pulled against the tight restraints, desperate to release the coil inside of you.

“Cum baby you earned it.” With that a flush of liquid poured out of you, pushing out his cock in the process.

“I wasn’t finished.” He growled, shoving his cock promptly back into you, increasing his laboured thrusts, chasing his release as he pooled a hot shot of cum into your cervix. His teeth gritted as he held onto your throat for leverage, enjoying the sight of your eyes rolling back into your head as his bulbous tip assaulted your now sensitive insides. Unable to push away from his grip or tear at his back, tears started to form in your eyes as you lay helpless for him to use as he pleased.

He collapsed on top you, breathing into your ear as he came down from his high. Slowly moving upwards, he untied your wrist with a swift pull, your hands immediately falling to his back muscles, pulling him closer to kiss you passionately, desperate to feel him.

He grabbed your hands and softly massaged away the redness from your wrists. Placing soft kisses on the indents from your resistance.

“We are keeping the ropes.” He groaned at you.

You chuckled lightly, kissing his forehead as you finally were able to move freely.

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neonovember · 2 years

Text

White Noise

mob!husband!steve rogers x plus-size!wife reader

summary: when a deal goes wrong Steves cunning nose sniffs even the most hidden ones, this time however, something is telling him it’s more than that. A lot more. Crooked criminals aren’t just stealing what’s his, there’s stealing what he belongs to.

When Steve finds out someone’s kidnapped you, he will stop at nothing, not even the traditions written in blood, to find you.

warnings: mafia talk, blood, gore, violence, harsh language, misogyny

part two>>>

The death, it clung to him. Weighs him down like an anchor, follows him like a slimy red shadow. The rings he adorns on his index, thumb, pinkie, insignia’s to honour and loyalty, they’re immune to it. They fling back the blood and morality from him. Every pressed jewel to his bruised fingers was another family massacred, another territory taken as his. Steve was nothing but relentless in his destruction, in his work. He took joy in it. The traditions, the meetings, the birch wood office table he fucks you on.

It’s why he’s gotten comfortable, the tension in his shoulder refracted a little, his hand gliding over signed deals like silk. His enemies knew it too, they gleamed in the dark shadows they’ve been cornered into, they waited for Steve to crack his stoic boulder of a kingdom himself because they knew they wouldn’t be able to do it themselves.

The Maserati marked against the Richerson driveway was still warmed by its engine, and yet Steve was already wishing to be with you, to be between the softness of your thighs. Rubbing elbows with the rest of the mafia that ruled New York was a requirement though, so Steve pushed down his insatiable need for you in an effort to keep his name.

Richerson's was a sizeable family, having been in the business as long as the Grant family had, Steve felt it homage to rekindle some old flames.

Sitting in the chair, his heirloom cufflinks clanking with its side, his wide torso bursting through the chair, his thighs squared out, one crossed over another where he rested his large palms across them.

Richerson sat rooted on the plush office chair, the wheels creaking to one side as he leaned in, much of the words coming out of his mouth remained obtuse to Steve’s ears. He heard them a thousand times, an inconceivable offer, a must sign deal. It’s paperwork, it’s petty thievery, it’s loose change in the breast pocket of his suit.

“I’m telling you, Steve, I really think we should step in on this one, the Montgomery’s have already signed, we’re just waiting on you. I know the south Brooklyn gangs have been giving you headaches on your south front, this alliance will eliminate that, eliminate them”.

Steve rubs his jaw, and the building of a scruff itches his skin as he recalls his need to shave soon, it wasn’t bad. The deal. Those small crooked gangs were annoying him, turning up everywhere, the kind where you cut off one head and three more took its place, the kind of pest that didn’t go away until you took it from the root.

Noticing Steve’s apprehension, Richerson is quick to reply with a cough,

“You don’t have to make a decision now, you know all of New York would be waiting hand and foot for your every word. No matter how long it takes” Richerson awkwardly laughs, eyes flickering across Steve’s unfazed expression, his features set in clay, giving no hint to his decision.

Richerson catches Bucky and Sam's eyes, as they await by the sides of the large sandalwood doors, hands behind their backs, statures reaching, the mass of hidden weapons covered beneath their dark black suits.

“How about some alcohol? A shipment just arrived from Haiti, they say it’s better than Appleton Estate, they also said too much can make you go into cardiac arrest” Richerson replies, trying to lighten the mood.

His eyes unconsciously flicker to his phone, then the clock, and back to his phone again. Anyone else would have blinked through it, oblivious to Richerson's unease, not Steve though, no, of course not. His eyes were trained to be sniper shot, always looking, always surveying. It’s this gift that allows him to sniff out even the most disguised rats, he can smell anything, a bad deal, a set-up, a sting operation.

People like to say he can even tell the police department has been somewhere, can sense their blues and blacks and brutality from miles away.

Steve smiles, reaching for the glass Richerson offers him. He makes no motion to drink from it though, he was always a whiskey man.

Santiago on the other hand, waste no time in throwing back the glass, letting the auburn liquid down his throat in loud gulps. Steve waits a beat, before returning the glass to his mouth, behind the rim, Santiago's eyes follow his movements, the fraction of relief sits on his shoulder and it has Steve pulling back, letting the glass rest on the desk, the sound clunk causing Santiago to flinch.

“I feel like there is something you're not telling me Santi” Steve smiles, a wicked smile, his infamous smile, this one’s different to the one he gives you, This was cat-like, deceptively comforting, it's his infamous smile, the one he gives when he knows your hidden motives, the one where it makes you shit your pants and realise you’re utterly fucked.

Santiago gulps, attempting to reach for another glass before Bucky stops him, lifting the bottle away from him. Santiago looks up confused, finally realising that much of his men were to the side, watching on, hands to their sides, relaxed. Another chest piece to Steve’s kingdom.

“This deal, it's good, it benefits me greatly in fact, but I’m wondering where in this deal do you come in? What do you gain from this? I know you don't have enough operations to set up a Southern front, so how is signing a deal with the Montgomery’s going to help you?

“They base their operations off the shore. Half of your family’s roots are in Harlem. Unless you’ve come in with some money, an off the books, under the table deal you’ve so kindly left me out on”. Steve yawns, leaning back against the chair, his hair remains impeccably in place, not a strand awry. “You couldn’t afford the liability”.

Santiago looks as though he has swallowed a live tarantula, back pin-straight, eyes bulging out of their sockets, his hands fumbling around him, itching his knee, scratching his beard. A bead of sweat rolls down his sunken face and catches on his nose before splatting on the office table.

“You look like you need a drink, here, have mine, I never had the stomach for rum” Steve offers, eyes surveying Santiagos, Steves outstretched hand offering his glass, the space a mere centimetre from Santiago’s grasp.

Santiago is in bits, mind scrambled, anxiety floating in his stomach, sick, he felt sick, the feathers of nausea crawl up his throat, and before he can think, before he can take a second and think, he's reaching for Steves glass, gulping down anything to quell the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

It takes Santiago 2 full sips before he's realised what he's done, he throws the glass, and it shatters against the Armenian painting near the door, he's puckering, spitting out the liquid. It's too late, the laced poison settles in his stomach, under his skin, in his eyes, everywhere.

“Did you really think I would drink that? Hm? Are you insane? Fuck Santi, we could have avoided this” Steve's voice rings through, bounces off the walls, as Santiago is scrambling off his chair, crawling around as he heaves loudly.

Through the haze of poison, Santiago manages to drop his phone, it clanks across the floor and lands right at Steves's feet. The sounds of its ringing catches Santiago's ears and a new fear envelopes him, his eyes bulging out as he tries to scream, protest, and reach for it, but it's all a wet gurgled mess. White froth begins to empty from his mouth, as he tries to move.

The number catches Steves's eye, it's a burner, nothing Santiago would have use for, grim sets in Steve, there is a persisting feeling at the age of his mind that this is not yet over.

Steve answers the call, he pauses as the other person on the line is speaking as if hiding back a grin.

“Look Santi, I know we agreed to get her when Stevie's all face down and seizing, but she was out in the open, shopping or some shit down on Southaven drive. We just couldn't pass on that golden opportunity, could we boys?!” The person roars, and the sound of hooted laughter filters in from the background.

“You should've seen it, how she scrambled and yelped, god she’s one pretty little thing, tied and gagged and she still screamed for him. When Steve’s out of the picture I get to keep her, show her what a real man is like, how ‘bout that sweetheart?” The gruff voices sing songs, the sounds of fumbling before the muffled scream of your voice cuts through the receiver.

“Ow! Fucking bitch kicked me, you better get here soon Santi, my patience is wearing thin, and I'm not scared to deliver some damaged merchandise” Barks the person.

The person continues to speak, but it muffles into the phone as the screen cracks within Steve's palm, steel and glass fall to the ground as Steve throws the phone across the room.

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sam, of Bucky, of Santiago’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Steve was blinded by this feeling, this heart arching feeling. He felt his chest cave in, split in two, dripping gushes of blood. His hand reaches for his chest, pulling, ripping his tie apart. His body moves without his brain, like muscle memory, like he knows what he has to do, he lunches for Richerson and wraps a hand around his neck as he drags him from his crawling escape.

He holds him there, choking him as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of Richardson is all that is left of him.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. Tradition and bespoken family ties are ripped to shreds, spotted with the blood of Santiago’s throat.

Bucky is on the phone, barking orders, Sam is to the corner dragging Steve off of him. Steve stands erect, a man with a mission, with a sudden purpose that brings fear into even Bucky himself.

He had never seen him like this.

Even when Bucky had been taken, left to die at the hands of enemy rivals in that culdesac those years before.

Even when Sam had torn his shoulder stopping Steve’s potential assassination in the ruins of a deal gone awry.

Nothing, nothing prepared them for what Steve would do when the unforgivable happened to you. Irreplaceable, loving, incredible you.

Bucky and Sam were both in pieces as they gathered their ammunition to find you, you were Steve’s of course, but they had parts of you, the kindness of your eyes lessened the hardened of their hearts a little, you were family to them, they’d die for you.

Much of their fear was clouded by the audacity of it, taking you, the rest of New York knew you were off-limits, that taking you meant declaring war with Steve. And no one was stupid enough to do that unless they had the possibility they could win. No, not just a possibility, a certainty. The truth of it is shown as Steve shakes with misplaced anger, how dare they, it rang in his mind, mocked him, torture him from within.

“Where the fuck is she?” Roared Steve, it sounded like it was for no one, but it was said so that it was meant for Santiago. Steve's harrowing footsteps stomp towards Santiago, he's curled in on himself, flinching as Steve gets near. Steve reaches for him pulling the last shreds of his dress shit by his fist, slamming him on the table.

Steve comes closer, squeezing Santiago's cheeks, his other hand is reaching for a knife, and the glint of it has Santiago screaming for death.

“I don't like to repeat myself, do yourself a favour of a quick death and tell me” Steve shakes, hand grasping the hilt as he presses it into Santiago's chest.

“TELL ME” Howls Steve, he's left the knife now, it falls to the floor as Steve instead begins to wrap his large palm around Santiago's throat, pressing until the white sheen of sweat appears on his face.

A murmur leaves Santiago’s lips, muffled by the blood and skin and muscle, yet Steve hears it all the same.

“What was that? Speak louder will you, or do you want me to pull out your voice box instead?” Steve grunts, patience wearing thin.

“A warehouse near the Hudson-” wheeze “-a defunct start-up, Steel Workings” Santiago finally manages the last word, falling back onto the floor. It's all Steve needs, so he reaches for Santiago, let the screams and wails of bargaining fall to his deaf ears, and snaps.

The heavy head of Santiago falls awkwardly against Steve, and he pushes him off, leaving him to lay limp on the floor as he leaves the room.

The car is running as Steve slides in, Bucky and Sam following suit.

“I swear to fucking god, those traffic lights better be green” Grunts Steve as he pushes the gas, quickly turning out of Richerdsons's stone driveway, onto the expansive gravel road.

Steve is still in his mind, the soundless cloak that’s trying to separate him from the truth, trying to spare him so he doesn't fall to pieces. He rips it apart and forces his eyes to take in everything, he needs to be present, he needs to be honest with himself if he wants to save you.

“Steve” Bucky starts eyeing the blonde, the grip of his fingers around the steering wheel was turning painful, Bucky didn't know how long he'd last.

“I’ve got Starks men on the line, he's willing to let you pass through to get to her faster” Bucky breathes out. The bargaining it took to persuade the pretentious billionaire put down his pride was ridiculous, but it was something Bucky would do a thousand times over for you.

The sentence barely leaves Bucky’s mouth before Steve is taking a sharp turn, through the part of the city that was claimed as Starks, it feels like time was fighting against them, the minutes and seconds ticking by, mocking them, mocking Steve.

A feeling Steve has long forgotten engulfs him, sits on the stone floor of his stomach, and jitters him with shakes that were half violent.

“You're scared” Sam answers for him, Steve nods, the lights of the city skyscrapers make mirages against the tinted windows,

“All our men are on deck, I’ve called in Francisco, Natasha, we will get those sick fucks, and we’ll make them bleed” Sam replies

Steve doesn't let Sam’s reassurance dent him, he knows this story all too well, to think he would be spared from it, to think you would be spared from it, in this life, was foolish. Steve didn't rely on hope, or prayers, he relied on his gut, his power, his influence.

And there was no time more needed for them than now, saving his girl.

part two—-

#steve rogers x angst #steve rogers x fluff #steve rogers x wife!reader #steve rogers x smut #steve rogers filth #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x fem!reader #mob!steve rogers x woc!reader #steve rogers mafia!au #mafia!steve rogers x fem!reader #avengers x mafia!au #mob!steve #husband!steve rogers x reader #husband!steve rogers x wife!reader

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biteofcherry · 11 months

Text

Ohhh this is totally mountain rescuer Steve’s vibe 🔥

#he's the kinkiest husband material #and has a special place in my heart lol #mountain rescuer Steve Rogers #mountain rescuer!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader

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itsprashimusic · 2 years

Text

I’ll be strong for you

Pairing - Steve Rogers x desi!wife!reader

Summary - Sometimes superheros need someone else to lean on instead of being others’ support beam. In Steve’s case, that someone is his wife.

Warnings - desi reader and references, some hindi is spoken but i have put the english translations in brackets next to them, let me know if i made any errors cause its 3 am and i don’t have the stamina to proofread

Word Count - 650

Part 2

masterlist is pinned

Your paayals (anklets) made a soft jingle every time your foot made contact with the ground. But it couldn’t be heard over the loud thuds your foot made while you were running towards the front door.

Your husband had been out on a mission for over a month. Normally you were used to his week long missions and the ones even longer than that. But this was the first time he had been gone for a mission that lasted longer than 4 weeks.

It was late at night, dark enough to prompt you to turn on a ceiling light in the living room. The soft yellow light illuminated the room giving it a very homely look. After checking through the peephole that it was infact him behind it did you make a move to open the door (steve wanted you to keep this habit if you were home alone).

No sooner had you opened it, you had been engulfed in a bone shattering hug. Steve didn’t ever seem bothered by the fact that you both were still standing at the door. Realising it you walked backwards into your living room while still hugging him somehow managing to close the door aswell.

He pulled back to look at you, relishing your features as if to remember them forever. He opened his mouth to say something but whatever was about to come out died before he had the chance. He held your face in both of his hands with such gentleness, his thumb sweeping over your cheek in a loving manner.

Your own hands held his wrists, your thumbs rubbing over the back of his hand. The soft yellow light did a great job of not just giving beautiful structure to Steve’s face but also of making the diamond that sat in the middle of your gold wedding band shine bright.

With his hands still cupping your face he pulled you in closer resting your foreheads before meeting your lips in a kiss. The kiss was sweet. But you could tell that he was holding back something. Deterring the thought from your mind you just focused on your significant other standing in front of you after not being there for 40 days. Steve pulled away, instantly hugging you again but this time letting his head fall in the crook of your neck. That was when you heard him say something for the first time, “I’ve missed you, so bad.”

“ हाँ राजा, जानती हूँ। ” (Yes dear, I know) you said closing your eyes and holding him even tighter, diminishing any possible remaining gaps between you both.

You didn’t notice when, but you started feeling your shoulder turn wet. The same place where your love had wedged his head in. This was a rare occurrence. Maybe something happened on the mission that caused it? Could be, since the last time he cried was when Tony died in the final fight at the Avengers Compound.

You tried asking him what happened, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? क्या तुम बता सकते हो what happened?” (can you tell what happened?). He said nothing only sobbing harder now. You narrowed it down to him just being exhausted and needing a break. So, you held him tight, both of you standing in the middle of the living room under the yellow light.

Sometimes, even those who save us need to break in order to be strong.

Bonus

“I’ve made some aloo parathas that you can eat later,” you said knowing its his favourite. And you said the right thing because just as you said it you felt him smile against your neck, his cries slowing down to hiccups. “You made them for me?” he said with a sheepish smile as he looked up from your shoulder, your hand rubbing circles on his back. You nodded. “Can we have them tomorrow as well?”

“ हर रोज और हमेशा के लिए। “ (everyday and forever).

A/N - I absolutely love this. let me know your feedback. likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything I will be making a masterlist when i have a few more works under my belt.

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no-not-without-you-blog · 1 year

Text

Baby's First Christmas

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and you get an early Christmas present.

Warnings: None. Discussion of contractions. Brief and non-graphic description of childbirth.

Divider Graphics by @firefly-graphics

Your breath clouded in front of you as you walked down the sidewalk on the cold Christmas Eve. Honestly, the cold felt great as you felt like you were currently running at the same temperature as a furnace. You were hot, swollen, crabby, and uncomfortable. Exactly what you wanted to be at Christmastime. To be fair, you would take all of that for this. You were currently 38 weeks pregnant and, despite the aches, pains, and frustrations of being this late into your pregnancy, you loved being pregnant.

You and Steve had been married for almost two years when you told him that you were pregnant. At first, he hadn’t believed you, thinking that you were playing a prank on him. But after reassuring him that it was real, he was speechless. The look on his face was one that you would never forget. It was as if the sun was radiating from his face as the smile spread wide. He pulled you close to him and the kiss he gave you was searing. When he pulled away to allow you both to catch your breath, there were tears clouding his eyes. You gently wiped them away and smiled at him. Since that moment, he had been the best partner you could have asked for. Always attentive and caring, maybe too much at times. There were times that you had had to remind him that you weren’t ill, just pregnant. He would just smile and nod and then go right back to it. You laughed, knowing that helping was just Steve’s way and he was an eternal “mother hen”.

You were grateful for the semi-alone time you got to have now. Steve was busy last minute Christmas shopping with Sam and Bucky and you had been determined to get the last of your shopping done as well. He didn’t like you going out this close to your due date without him, but you assured him that you were perfectly capable. Plus, you weren’t going alone. Natasha and Wanda were joining you and they had Steve on speed dial in case anything happened. Their presence helped Steve to relax a bit.

You had been shopping for an hour or so and had gotten quite uncomfortable, some Braxton Hicks causing some pain. However, you hadn’t said anything to anyone because you didn’t want your time out cut short and you didn’t want them calling Steve and him rushing back. You needed this time with your girls. Wanda had been eyeing you some but hadn’t said anything yet. Natasha was comparing two seemingly identical sets of knives, deciding in the end to get them both, one for her and one for Bucky. Gift shopping with this group was always interesting.

An hour later, you had all wandered into a baby store and were perusing the tiny clothes. “Are you sure? I couldn’t handle not knowing.” Natasha said to you incredulously. You just smiled and shook your head.

“We both don’t really care. We have a few names floating around but we are waiting until they’re here to decide fully.’ You paused for a moment, allowing the contraction to pass. You did your best to not show any outward signs of discomfort but were seemingly unsuccessful. You looked back up and saw them both looking at each other. “Please…” You said slightly panicky, “don’t say anything to him. They aren’t real yet, these are just practice ones. If you tell him, he’ll rush us straight home or worse to the hospital when we don’t need to yet. I promise, when it happens, if it happens, you can call him. But please, I just want to spend time with you guys.” They both looked at you seriously and then each other before agreeing.

“Okay.” Wanda spoke up. “But if I feel like we are getting serious here, I won’t wait for you to say something. I know you and I know that you will try to hold out as long as possible without telling anyone.” She stared at you firmly. She was right of course, you were annoyingly stubborn and hated for others to see you in pain. You nodded in acceptance of her terms.

Another hour passed and Wanda and Natasha became increasingly concerned. You were still walking and talking, but it seemed like the practice contractions were now anything but that. Natasha had been silently timing them and they were running about 8 minutes apart. You didn’t seem to be showing much pain, but you would have to stop walking or talking every now and again to take a deep breath. You were silently grateful when Wanda suggested you guys stop for lunch. To be able to sit down seemed like a great idea.

You were wrong. Sitting down had been a terrible idea. When you were up and moving, you had been able to almost put the constricting pain out of your mind. But sitting here, trying to eat your food really highlighted the severity of the discomfort you were feeling. Both Wanda and Natasha were talking to you about any number of things, but you found it hard to follow along with the conversation. About three quarters of the way through lunch, Natasha folded her napkin and forcefully set it on the table.

“Okay, that’s it, Y/N. I love you and want to respect your wishes, but it’s time we call the boys. You’ve barely been able to eat your food and your “Not contractions” are running about 6 minutes apart now. Why we are still sitting here is beyond me.” She seemed frustrated, but more so at hating seeing you in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

You were breathing through the pain, stubbornly shaking your head no. “It’s not time. I still have two weeks. I can’t do this today. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re supposed to have two more weeks.” You had started to tear up, your words repeating softly as your two best friends saw the fear in your eyes, finally understanding what was going on.

Wanda reached over and grabbed your hand. “Sweetheart. It’s time. I know you’re scared, but this baby is coming whether you admit it or not. It’s better to get home to Steve and get you two off to the hospital than to deliver in the restaurant or, worse, on the sidewalk.” The soft, encouraging smile on her face washed over you. You squeezed her hand in thanks. You were terrified, but you knew you weren’t alone and that was the most important thing.

You took a deep, shaky breath as you nodded your head. Natasha quickly jumped into action, paying the bill and grabbing her phone. She dialed Bucky, knowing that Steve would be so nervous he wouldn’t listen well, and waited for him to answer. You only heard one side, but that was honestly enough.

“Hey B, you’re still with Steve right?” She paused as she waited for his response.

“Okay good, you guys need to get back to the house. We are headed there as well. Y/N has been having contractions and it’s about time for them to head to the hospital.” At that point she pulled the phone away from her ear as the volume on the other end increased exponentially. Apparently she was on speaker and Steve had heard. You could plainly hear his yelling without the phone on speaker. He was going on and on about how he can’t believe he let you out of his sight and he should be with you right now. He was yelling louder and louder which surprisingly made you burst out in laughter. He heard you through Natasha’s phone and yelled again.

“Is she fucking laughing? My god, this goddamned woman will be the death of me! I swear to God Natasha, if you don’t get her home safe to me, I will hunt you down.” Natasha rolled her eyes at his comment, knowing that he would do no such thing.

Still laughing slightly but also feeling another contraction growing you muttered out through your teeth. “Tell him I said to calm his fucking tits.” Both Natasha and Wanda looked at you like a crazy person and Natasha hesitated at relaying the message. “I said… to tell him… to calm… his fucking tits. Natasha was confused but relayed the message to him and you could hear him cursing while Bucky and Sam laughed and saying something about his “Tits of Justice”. As Natasha hung up the phone, Wanda helped you into your coat and the three of you slowly but steadily made your way back to your brownstone.

By the time you had gotten back to the house, Steve was sitting on the stoop waiting for you. He already had your hospital bag packed in the car and luckily the car seat had been installed since last week. When you guys rounded the block and came into view he shot up off the steps. If you weren’t in pain currently, you would have found the whole situation hilarious. A whole team of superheroes were frantically moving around you, making sure that you were safely in the car and comfortable. Wanda and Sam quickly ran your shopping bags up into the house and said they would meet everyone at the hospital. Bucky and Nat hopped in a car and followed behind. Steve must have made a phone call before you got back home because as you pulled into the hospital, there was a whole team of people standing by, ready to assist, including what appeared to be a whole security team.

You sent him a glare and he willfully ignored you. This had been an argument between the two of you for months now. You didn’t want any special treatment, just because of who you were and who he was. You were just Steve and Y/N having your baby. And Steve would probably have agreed with that about anything else in your life, but this was your’s and his child's health and safety and he wasn’t about to fuck around with that. You knew he was coming from a place of love and concern but you needed to make sure you set some boundaries before things got too out of control.

As they got you settled into a laboring room you pulled the doctor and nurses over, along with the head of the security and Steve.

Waiting for a contraction to pass before you addressed them. “I am going to be very blunt and direct and this will be the last time we will discuss this. I understand Steve’s desire to be extra prepared for any and all eventualities. However, I will not be allowing any additional staff in unless they are medically necessary and any security will have to wait outside. Do you all understand?” They all nodded and you turned your head to Steve who hadn’t acknowledged his agreement. “Steven?” You sternly looked at him, waiting for his response. You knew he was just trying to protect you, but you needed him to be on board with you here.

He stared at you for a moment, trying to wrestle with his need to protect and his desire to honor your wishes. He let go a deep breath and nodded his head. “I understand, sweetheart.” You knew that this was a large concession for him to relinquish control and you smiled up at him. “Thank you.” At that moment, a contraction took hold and you gripped his arm and held on to him for support as you breathed through it. He rubbed your lower back, adding pressure to your hips. He had learned about that from the numerous books he had read cover to cover and from the birthing class he had signed you both up for. He was as prepared as he could have been.

Two hours later and Steve was certain he had heard every curse word there was and then a few extra he was sure you had made up. He ran his hands through his disheveled hair. He couldn’t remember a time of more stress and anxiety in his life and yet, in this moment, it was all worth it. Not twenty minutes ago, he had been moving your hair off your sweaty face as you pushed your child into the world. One moment you were moaning in such intense pain and the next a breath of relief whooshed out of you. The half second of silence seemed to last for an eternity until he heard what had to be the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. His child was here and boy, they were loud. They were quickly placed on your chest and you turned to Steve with tears in your eyes while you laughed. He joined you in a tearful laugh, all the emotions of the day overwhelming you both.

He walked down the hall to the small but cozy waiting room. The crowd of patient onlookers had grown and he saw the whole team waiting for any update. When they saw him walk in, they all stood and a hush fell over the group. He smiled at them, with tears in his eyes.

“I have a daughter…” was all he was able to get out before the group burst into celebration and he was embraced and congratulated. He told the team they could come back and see you and the baby a few at a time, but that he wanted to start with Natasha and Bucky.

As they walked into the room, Natasha instantly went to your side, giving you a soft head kiss and resting her forehead against yours. “I’m so proud of you.” Bucky was standing a ways back, giving you two your moment. He had his arm around Steve’s shoulder, looking at the now three women who meant the world to him. You were so grateful for their love and friendship. A soft hush fell over the room as they stared at the child in your arms. “Well? Are ya gonna make us ask? What’s her name?” Bucky finally spoke up and asked.

You and Steve looked at each other and smiled and Steve spoke up. “Well, we thought it was only fitting because of her birthday, but this is Eve Rogers.”

“Eve Natalia Rogers.” You interjected. Natasha’s eyes went wide in shock.

“Wait. Really?” She asked, not fully believing it.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we name her after her godmother. It’s not like we could name her after her godfather. Eve Bucky just doesn’t flow so well.” Steve said, playfully nudging Bucky.

They both smiled and the look of gratefulness and love on both their faces was one you would never forget. You couldn’t have asked for better friends and godparents for your child. You could see that Bucky was slightly emotional over it all but he quickly blinked it away and smiled warmly at the two of you. “She looks so much like you Y/N. Thank God she’s more you than this punk.” You all laughed but you looked down and compared your daughter to your husband. She definitely did look like you, her little nose and the cupid’s bow of her soft lips, but there were hints of Steve as well. Her hair was the same blonde and when her eyes were open, they were the exact shade of his.

A few hours later and you and Steve were finally alone with your daughter tucked safely into the bassinet beside you. You both just stared lovingly at her as you watched her sleep. Her little lip moved as she slept. Neither of you said a word, but so much was communicated in that moment. Contentment, relaxation, and love beyond describing. Neither of you could imagine ever wanting to be anywhere but in this moment. Your perfect Christmas.

Taglist:

@annasrefuge @chrisevansdaughter @animegirlgeeky @aami98 @moonstruckbirdie @thecaptainsdoll @bbooks-and-teas @crazyunsexycool @writing-for-marvel @patzammit

#marvel #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x wife!reader #dad!steve rogers #husband!steve rogers #chris evans

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gutsby · 1 month

Text

Benign

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Marrying a former Soviet sleeper agent was your first mistake. Letting curiosity get the better of you and saying his trigger words before sex was your second.

Warnings: 18+. DUBCON - Bucky is partly brainwashed; R is reluctant at first. Reliving past trauma (i.e., grief, prior HYDRA captivity). Rough, unprotected p-in-v.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Marrying into the mob meant one of two things: turning a blind eye to your husband’s crimes or taking them up as your own. Most of the women who had gone before you chose the former, leading lives of willful ignorance while their spouses cut deals, shed blood, stole guns, and submitted only to the laws of secrecy and discretion.

You, unlike those wives, hadn’t had the luxury of choice.

Your life, unlike theirs, had been sold to a man you didn’t know, by a father you couldn’t stand, and now your dad was dead, and this man—your husband—was to blame.

The least Bucky could do was fuck you hard to say sorry.

But no, ever since the Winter Soldier had reared its ugly head that dreadful night in Madripoor two weeks prior, your husband hadn’t laid one finger on your body that was not soft, sweet, and sickeningly apologetic to you. He seemed almost scared to initiate sex, and when he did, couldn’t help but act like a touch might break you.

After all, one almost had. Those hands he’d hear you beg and plead to put on you now were the very same ones he’d used to kill dozens, if not hundreds, including blood of your own blood. To the world, Bucky’s reputation commanded fear. To his wife, now, he felt duly obliged to prove he was more—that you were safe with him, not from him. He’d carted you off to every GP, hematologist, nutritionist, and grief specialist lauded among Brooklyn’s elite to make that happen. Fast. Frankly, these days, the thought of fucking was the furthest thing from his mind.

Unbeknownst to Bucky, somewhere along the spectrum of grief, you’d already come to settle comfortably at the ‘Need-to-be-fucked-until-I-can-no-longer-think-or-feel’ phase, and every bone in your body was crying out for respite in the form of ruthless, mind-numbing sex. It didn’t make sense. You hardly knew what to do with it. You should have lashed out, shut down, cried rivers and lakes of tears for that integral part of family that had been lost, but for whatever reason, you had to go numb.

You wanted to do something really, really fucking dumb.

Remorseful as he was, Bucky and his explanations for who or what the Winter Soldier was had been sparse. He’d told you that he had once been held in captivity by HYDRA, had his brain re-wired some way to make him a merciless Soviet sleeper agent, and that the night in Madripoor was the first in ages he had been ‘activated.’ How did activation happen? Of course, he wouldn’t tell.

But Steve would.

Steve had told you everything you wanted to know about your soldat, describing in painstaking detail how he worked, trained, operated, and could be called to action. You were almost certain Rogers had said it all as a way to assure you that it wasn’t Bucky who’d killed your father—it was someone inside him. You were more than positive Steve had never intended for you to use his intel like this.

You hadn’t believed him. Couldn’t believe him. How the fuck could someone sever all ties to their conscious mind and just transform anew into a killer? You got to be hell-bent on knowing for certain whether it’d been Bucky or him, it, whatever the hell the Winter Solider was, and on knowing it now. If your husband was faking it all and simply using this persona to justify the killing, that would be it. Trust gone, marriage over. If he wasn’t, well…you hadn’t gotten that far into your own line of thinking.

“Tell me what you want, doll,” Bucky said, pulling you back to the present.

He shifted gently against you, cotton trousers raising the friction a little as he slotted between your legs. He was still dressed head-to-toe from his meeting that morning.

“I want you to fuck me. Make me cum. Please.”

You were bare, save for one small scrap of linen and lace that somehow passed as a nightie. Your gaze was soft.

Bucky didn’t want to say no, but he also felt too guilty to say yes. The way you were watching him now, eyes so helpless and pleading, body writhing for contact, he knew you didn’t want his touch so much as needed it. Desperately. Couldn’t bear to be burdened with grief so you brushed it aside, to the furthest recesses of your mind until all that was left was desire. Starvation, really.

He could satiate you for now, but that hunger might not ever leave. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown.

“Gentle?” he mumbled.

“Rough,” you countered.

“Baby—”

“I really don’t need another fucking lecture on death, Bucky. I know I’m not myself right now, but I can still make these decisions, okay? Don’t talk to me like I can’t.”

Anger flashed in your eyes for a second, then indignation, then nothing. Without much energy left, you pushed him away. Flopped back on the bed and, seeming to sink into yourself, heaved a low, feeble sigh.

“I know. Hey,” Bucky leaned over to press a touch to your tummy, and it made you want to hurl, “I’m sorry.”

You turned onto your side.

“You still don’t remember what happened?”

The question came suddenly, almost from somewhere outside your body, it seemed. For the hundredth time.

“No,” Bucky answered, for what felt like the thousandth.

“This Winter Soldier—”

“He isn’t me.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Couldn’t know. Wasn’t…programmed for it.”

Bucky was watching you now, eyes as contrite as they’d ever been while you rehashed this subject to the brink of tears. He never could stay composed when he saw you cry.

“Baby…” he started, arms reaching out for you.

Eyes still filling with tears, you shook your head and swatted him off. You sat up, and your brows pinched together in a look he couldn’t read. Contemplating.

At last, you made up your mind.

You would try something new—and really, really stupid:

“Zhelaniye.”

“What?”

Bucky’s own expression contorted with uncertainty.

“—semnadtsat, rzhaviy, rasvet—”

He heard that. He immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Wait—”

You were curious. You had no idea what you were doing.

“Baby, baby, stop—”

“—pech, devyat—”

You were speaking so fast, surely it wouldn’t work like that. Either way, he had to stop you. He seized your arms, giving a sharp, deliberate shake, pupils blown to the size of saucers in his eyes. There wasn’t much time.

“Don’t—”

“—adin—”

No time at all.

“—dothisdon’tfuckingdothishoneyplease.”

Losing himself already. Feeling it stir inside his mind.

“—dobroserdechniy—”

‘Kind-hearted.’ ‘Benign’. You truly had no clue what these words were liable to do, much less what they meant.

Having enunciated this last part, you swallowed. Took the tip of your tongue and rolled it left-to-right across the backs of your teeth, waiting for your speech to take effect like some magical performance before your eyes.

It hadn’t, it seemed. You blinked. He blinked. You sat in a protracted silence for what seemed like seventeen years, and presently, your stomach began to churn. Nothing happened—you’d been right about this fuckery all along.

Then you remembered one last word of the sequence.

Faintly, you said:

“Soldat.”

The man above you straightened. Sitting. Stiff. Still perched by your legs at a comfortable distance but regarding you now with a pointed stare. Expectancy made manifest in a simple, sharp glare from his eyes to yours.

“...Bucky?”

The look on his face grew even harder. For a time, he persisted in that strange and silent grimace, and just when you started to suspect he was faking this whole demeanor of deadened stoicism, you heard a voice. Clawing out of his throat but sounding nothing like him:

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

The words drove a fear to the greatest depths of your bones, and you hardly knew why. You stared back at the handsome, barren man still watching you with severity, and you couldn’t seem to find your husband anywhere.

“James?” You weren’t sure why you tried his name again. You just didn’t know what else to say.

The scowl seeped into his mouth, and he frowned.

“James,” he repeated, like the word was foreign to him.

You found yourself shuffling back on the bed just then—to what, you didn’t know. You just felt a gnawing need to put some space between you and this person, this glowering face, however you could. When he grabbed your ankle, you let out a startled sound, and when he followed you up on the bed, you did more than just whimper; you lifted your leg to knee him directly in the stomach. He caught it.

Then he stared again, expression bloodless and wan.

“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” Your voice trembled as you tried to free your leg from his fist—grip unusually strong.

The man paused another moment, if only to soak in your words and let his gaze trail over your face. Your exertions did not register. And, for the very first time, you felt as though you were something more like a plaything in your husband’s eyes—not a full-fledged human being but a system to be gamed. The feeling was so unsettling that you had to turn away.

Or try to, anyway.

Craning your neck just far enough to spy your phone on the nightstand, your first thought was Steve; he would know what to do. But before you could even think to twist and lift your body in that direction, you felt a hand yank you to the bed, flat on your back. You looked up at Bucky and found yourself caged between two arms. He lowered himself to his elbows, shifted his weight to one side, and seemed not to notice your movements at all when you tried to slide away. The man just splayed his hand across your stomach and pressed it firmly. Stay.

You weren’t one to shy away from a challenge—or keep hope alive against the odds. You put your hand over his.

“James—”

“Zhena.”

The abruptness of Bucky’s word stole the rest of yours. You cocked a brow and followed his gaze to your hand.

To the gaps between your fingers, then the touch that fanned across them to settle on one digit in particular.

Bucky thumbed at the diamond and smiled. He smiled.

“Zhena,” he repeated.

You blinked.

“I— you...gave me that, Bucky. You did.”

He hummed in acknowledgment.

Bucky stared at the ring for what could’ve been five seconds or several years, and then he did something unexpected. He shifted his touch to the bodice of your dress—again, if you could even call it that—and he began to tug at the satin bow situated between your breasts.

Of course, this nightie being designed for honeymoons and supremely easy access, it didn’t take much effort at all for the folds of your dress to come apart. Your breasts spilled out of the fabric without so much as a hint of protest, your torso was quick to become fully exposed, and suddenly, shortly, your hands were fumbling at your chest in an effort to regain some smidgen of modesty. Your husband just shook his head, following your hands.

“Moya zhena,” he said, a touch more emphasis and fervor to the first of the two words.

Now it was you who was shaking your head. Trying to pry his touch away as you slid up the bed. When he followed, you saw the icy expression had been supplanted by intrigue and, though you still felt ill at ease, you couldn’t deny you were curious to know what he was thinking. Who was thinking it? Soft, plush lips swiftly replaced his hands, and before you even knew what he was doing, Bucky, or someone, was latching onto your left breast. Using teeth to graze the hardened nub and send a ripple of thick, guilty pleasure coursing through you.

You whimpered. Bucky groaned.

Your fingers slotted through his hair with every intention of pushing him away, but when you tried, he just flicked his tongue and made another delicious sound against you.

You pushed with even more force, and he groaned again.

Not Bucky, not Bucky, not him, you have to—

“Stop!” you cried.

A set of soft, warm baby blues darted up to meet you.

Some flicker of recognition seemed to cross them, too.

“Honey?”

You almost lurched toward the sound. It was Bucky.

Suddenly, your hands were making fists in the collar of his crisp white button-up, and you were trying to yank him up. You murmured his name in disbelief, relief, and gathered him up in your arms to pull him in for a kiss.

The lips that met you were soft for a moment—just one.

Then the teeth reappeared. Harsh, jarring, biting. You jerked back at the sensation, and when you found his face again, it seemed your husband was lost to you all over. The eyes were attentive still—nowhere near as cold and aloof as they had been before—but they did not radiate the same warmth and admiration that Bucky’s always did. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was gone, just like that, and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening.

A broad palm cupped your cheek to bring you in for another kiss, and you weren’t sure if you should indulge. It didn’t seem you had much choice anyway, because the lips that were seeking yours were hungry. Starved. Searing into your mouth with a force you couldn’t refuse.

But something inside you wanted to find Bucky again.

Somewhere inside this stranger was lying dormant a trace of your husband; you’d seen it yourself, if only for a second. It made you curious. Where had he gone? What did he do when forced to retreat into this strange, preprogrammed being, and how could you get him back?

“Bucky,” you mumbled, more of a plea than a moan.

You were kissed harder than you had been in a long time. You didn’t have to think, or do, or breathe one puff of air that this man didn’t account for. His tongue wedged a gaping space in your wet, welcoming mouth for him to fill, and somehow, you didn’t feel the urge to protest. A familiarity in the way he kissed almost put you at ease, and when his body lifted slightly, yours lifted with it.

Before long, Bucky was sitting. Kneeling between your legs with an eye to your soft, shaking torso. You’d barely even come to notice just how hard you were breathing until you felt a palm on your stomach again. There was an oddly calming insinuation in that one simple touch.

And again, he smiled. Brighter than before.

“Nashe?” He sounded eager as he said it.

You peered up at him and raised an eyebrow in question. Perhaps you should’ve felt more exposed; after all, you were sitting half-naked with your husband’s assassin alter ego stroking your stomach and beaming over you, eyeing you expectantly, and you didn’t know what to say. Apart from the short set of words Steve had taught you, you were totally clueless to Russian, and you weren’t quite sure you were in a place to ask Bucky to translate.

When it seemed words might never come, the gleaming teeth above you were shrouded in a tighter, close-lipped smile, and Bucky nodded. Appearing to understand. Instead of forcing a response from you, he just let his hand migrate down your belly, fingers tracing the skin, then settle comfortably—momentarily—at the crest of your pubic bone. Then he pressed the heel of his palm into the place residing right below it, and without really meaning to, you moaned. A quiet maelstrom of pleasure circled low in your abdomen, threatening to draw noises from your throat you weren’t planning to make with every gentle gyration of Bucky’s lower hand.

You had to purse your lips to contain the sounds.

Again, he nodded.

“It’s okay,” he said, so quiet he almost couldn’t be heard.

He let the friction continue for a while like that: just palming you, watching you react to the simplest of motions against your swollen, aching clit and try not to writhe. At length, you squirmed a little bit. Bucky seemed to want to wait for something to happen, and when you bucked your hips, a look in his eye said that was enough.

He lowered himself between your legs. Shoulders bumping your thighs as he spread them apart, chest rising and falling in measured breaths, and lips smiling all the while. You sucked in a breath when his face came to rest just a few inches shy of your bare, aching warmth.

“Bucky?”

The man looked up at you and blinked.

“Yeah, honey?”

One thumb traced over the seam of your cunt, and your back nearly arched off the bed. There he was, again, gaze safe and secure to yours and hands moving in tandem as they always would. His tongue calmly followed suit. When you fisted his hair, he blinked once more and then directed his attention back to your wet, warm, velvety folds with a pointed look and a purpose.

The sound that escaped you next could hardly be classed as anything less than a scream, but the soft and unperturbed demeanor of the man between your legs showed he hadn’t noticed at all. He just sucked diligently—damn near dutifully—on your clit with a vigor you’d never felt, and when you yanked at his hair, he hummed.

It was like his lips had been trained for perfect suction; that was how well and thoroughly he descended upon your swollen little bud. An airtight kiss and a quick flick of his tongue, paired with his hot and heavy breaths fanning over your cunt, sent your senses into overdrive. Your toes curled inward, your throat let loose a gasp, and without fully realizing it, your walls were clamping down, pulsing and leaking out desire for more of this touch.

Then, without warning, Bucky brought a hand to the throbbing and slick cunt that was presently clenching around nothing, and he fed it two fingers. So forceful and deep he nearly buried his knuckles right along with them. Then he started scissoring those two fingers, sharply.

“Open, milaya,” he said. Again, it wasn’t entirely Bucky.

But you felt a faint remembrance there. You didn’t want him to stop. Maybe you were led astray by the gentle laps of his tongue or the prodding of his fingertips, or perhaps there was something stubbornly familiar about the way he was touching you now. You couldn’t tell.

All you knew was that both of your hands were holding tight to his head and begging him, wordlessly, for more.

Your moans rang all the way through the bedroom in your new, far-too-big penthouse apartment in Brooklyn, down the hall, reverberating through every inch of the space until all that could be heard were your sounds and his and the delectable little noises of your bodies working together. Bucky hadn’t even stirred to pleasure himself.

You wanted that part to change.

With your hip pinned to the mattress and Bucky’s tongue laving over your clit in ruthlessly quick movements, you probably would’ve liked to cum all over his mouth and fingers, but you wanted to see him pleased even more.

Just when he’d worked a third finger inside you and was driving you close to your peak, you pushed him away.

Bucky parted from your folds with a glistening chin and two furrowed eyebrows, clearly frustrated to have been torn from his mission before you reached completion, but you wouldn’t let that look linger for long. You used your leverage in his hair—however slight, comparatively, that grip might have been—to pull him up on the bed.

Bucky surprised you with just how swiftly he moved.

His steel-blue gaze was on yours in a second, equally penetrating and soft.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing—”

“My baby okay?”

He surprised you again; this time by how quick his demeanor was to shift the second he sensed something was wrong. Just like Bucky. It had to be him in there.

You nodded, still out of breath from the wonders he’d been working with his tongue. You squeezed his arm and tried to coax him toward you, to help him lower his body some, and when he seemed uncertain, you offered a smile. It’s okay to touch, you won’t break anything.

Bucky eyed you skeptically, but it was clear he was more wary of himself than of you. He glanced over your body, briefly to his, then slowly, apprehensively, sank down.

“Just fine,” you mumbled, hooking your legs around his back the second his chest was close enough to yours.

You felt an uptick in his heartbeat when your heels dug a little more firmly into the waistband of his pants. While your hands started working their way toward the front of that fabric, wedging clumsily between your bodies, his gaze flitted to yours, and his brows drew even tighter together. He didn’t try to stop you, but he certainly seemed confused as to why you wanted to include him so soon. Why you cared to show concern for him at all.

You noticed that then, and in just about every moment preceding, the man was taken aback by kindness.

Whether it was pulling him closer to you, tugging his pants down with a tender touch, running your fingers across the bulge in his boxers, or simply nodding your head and letting him know it was okay to touch you back, Bucky seemed unaccustomed to any care in this area.

When your fingers made it around his cock and started stroking him, gently, he just might’ve come apart.

His chest shuddered with the inhale of a short, strained breath, and his eyelids fluttered, as if meaning to close.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he started to shake his head.

“No, let me—”

“Let me,” you finished for him, wrist flicking back and forth quietly. You paused just to rub a quick touch between your folds, collect some arousal, then return to touching him when he met your eyes again and allowed you to continue. You skimmed his sensitive underside with your palm and let the warmth of him bleed into your fingertips as you worked him up to a comfortable pace.

Bucky rutted into your touch, probably harder than he meant to. Then he planted a hand beside your head and anchored his weight above you so that he was close enough to reach your lips—but he didn’t kiss you.

His expression hardened again, and he forcibly removed himself from the pulse of your fingers. He frowned.

“You want me to fuck you, no? Make you cum?”

He sounded irritated again.

Briefly, you recalled your words from earlier and nodded. It was true, you’d said it to him like that, and you’d meant it. You just couldn’t make sense of what he wanted now.

It seemed Bucky couldn’t wait to indulge you any longer. He fisted his cock in one hand, angled the head just outside of your cunt, and burst in with one thrust.

“Then let me,” he muttered, plunging down to the hilt.

The first go was rough, and the second was no kinder. Bucky’s face screwed up with indifference again, like he wanted to get something out of his brain and just do.

Like there was a task at hand that needed to be finished.

You couldn’t deny it felt fine at first. Fucking edifying after all those horrific thoughts had been eating away at your mind and rousing your own hunger for numbness. The drive of Bucky’s thick girth in and out, in and out repeatedly was no doubt capable of rendering you dumb. But being slammed into and taken so roughly was only good for you when you knew he was feeling good too.

This Bucky was back to being entirely flinty and lifeless—practically devoid of all emotion as he railed into you.

The back of your head was forced into the pillow with the weight of each thrust and Bucky’s thumb pushing into your chin—‘Better, milaya? Is this better for you?’—and frankly, you wanted to push him back and ask the same.

But you couldn’t. The pace he’d set was suffocating, and the stretch of his cock inside you was unusually tough.

Instead, you sank your nails into his arm and mumbled:

“Bucky.”

The man’s thrusts were both stabbing and rhythmic, sending a welt of pleasure blossoming up in your chest. You tried again:

“Bucky.”

He blinked.

And slowed.

“Bucky,” he mumbled back.

Seemingly mindless and mechanical, he snaked a hand behind your head to lift your face and tilt it toward the sight below: his cock splitting you open before him, parting your insides with an easy, welcome glide through the slick of your folds. You watched as your arousal enveloped him fully. Not a single inch of his rock-hard, throbbing shaft was spared; even his balls were soaked. They felt even heavier slapping your ass with each thrust.

“You remember?” you asked, hating how small you sounded.

The man’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod. Expression taut and vigilant, as though anticipating something going wrong at any second. Still, he nodded.

“Years,” he answered.

“Years?”

Since he’d done this? Felt good? Become this way?

No, Bucky was activated in Madripoor just weeks ago. He didn’t look like he was ready to indulge in any ‘feel-good’ pleasure, and you weren’t sure when he’d last been with anyone else before you. Years could mean anything.

You chanced a few soft fingertips up to his cheeks, cupping either side of his clean-shaven face in an effort to anchor you both to one place. The pit of your stomach was reeling with warmth, and friction, and fullness. It took everything in you just to pull him in for a quick, grounding kiss before the feeling gave way to even more.

Bucky’s teeth nicked your bottom lip. He flinched back.

You ignored the sting and repeated his name, murmuring it carefully up to the seal of his mouth as if requesting entry with that word alone.

It seemed to work. Bucky kissed you back with a gentle, albeit guarded, sort of tenderness that made him soften. His thrusts weren’t as rough and punishing as they were before. The dull, throbbing ache between your legs transformed into something sweeter, and your body no longer had to brace itself against strokes that, to you, were nearly bruising and, to Bucky, were just necessary.

For once, your husband let out a soft grunt of pleasure.

“They never let us,” Bucky said as his teeth grit together, “It’s been years.”

“Since what?”

The face above you tempered more—this time with a trace of sadness behind it. He continued to rut into you, but now his thrusts were sloppy, and it seemed as though he were battling against his own pleasure with every motion. He lowered one hand between your legs and began to thumb at your clit, gaze torn from yours.

“Close now?” he muttered.

Ignoring the question you’d asked.

“Years since what?” you pressed anyway. The tiny ripples preceding bliss had already begun to stir inside you, maddeningly, with every flick of his thumb, but your curiosity to know the whole truth was stronger still.

Bucky’s hips were moving at a feverish pace now; his free hand made a fist in the sheets beside your head, and his chest heaved with a series of short, ragged breaths that were no doubt meant to mask his moans as well. Notwithstanding the burn you felt between your legs—he really was much rougher and stronger now, you saw—you cupped his cheek again to tilt his face toward yours.

What you saw made your stomach drop.

Your heart clenched like a fist within the confines of your ribcage, and there it was—that terrible ache you felt each time you saw something awful materialize before you.

Bucky’s eyes were wet with tears. He wouldn’t blink.

He tilted his head into your touch, as if for support, but really, the weight of it signaled to you that he just wanted to feel you. Be assured that you were there. His big, broad arms seemed suddenly unable to hold his weight, and then he sank into your frame with a grunt and another stuttered breath. Like he was ready to collapse.

“Don’t leave again,” he said quietly.

The pain in your chest elevated, in bloom.

“Bucky I didn’t— wasn’t—” you started to say.

The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t be sure if you were talking to your husband, soldat, or some strange, inconceivable mixture of the two, but you could tell that this one was desperate.

Pleading.

“I can’t lose you again.”

The head of his cock grazed your most sensitive spot inside, and a whine seeped out through your teeth. Bucky’s whole body was blanketing yours, torso flush with your front and hips working an erratic cadence as he got a glimpse of release himself. He groaned out in pleasure and begged you to stay. You promised that you would. Your legs were still wound around his sides, but both of your bodies were slick with a sheen of sweat; it was hard to hang on. Bucky’s hair was wild and pushed back from his face, but his eyes were clear when they finally met yours, and you heard him mumble again, ‘Please stay.’

You didn’t know what else to say but okay, baby, I will.

You swore you would stay, and in between oaths, your mouth was consumed by a barrage of kisses—Bucky got to feast with a full set of teeth again, primal as ever—and then your climax hit. Euphoria washed over you whole with a force you weren’t expecting to feel, and you couldn’t help but cry out and whine as waves of pleasure coursed straight from the innermost depths of your core.

Bucky’s hips collided with yours in two more stuttered thrusts, and when he bottomed out at the last, you felt a heavy spurt of warmth. A groan coiling out of his chest. Muscles growing lax and two sturdy arms coming to bracket your head as your husband’s whole body weight went folding into yours. You kissed some more, in between frenzied intakes of breaths and steadying moments where you were simply trying to ground your body and get your heart to slow down to a normal rate.

You held each other in silence for a while. Bucky’s head fell next to yours on the pillow when the last of his spend had been emptied, but otherwise, he didn’t stir. At some point, his hands slid behind your back, and the second he hugged you to him, you felt secure in that embrace.

You were probably as far as you’d ever been from understanding who the fuck your husband was, but all it seemed you were capable of feeling for now was pity.

Pity for the years he’d lost to captivity; pity for what was little more than mere existence under HYDRA’s thumb; pity for all the things you still didn’t know about his past.

You held Bucky tighter, and, flooded with this strange, grating emotion and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, you wished you could protect him, too.

“James?” you mumbled into his hair.

Bucky didn’t respond.

You squeezed his shoulder. Still nothing.

Against your better judgment, you tried to shift yourself underneath his body. You figured you wouldn’t make it far at all, but at least he would be aware that you were trying to get up. Maybe even start to move with you.

He didn’t.

It took everything in you just to wedge an elbow back, struggle to prop yourself up against his weight, and when you were about to let out a huff of an exasperated laugh and tell him, Bucky, you’re crushing me, honey, could you please ease up a little, your request was answered before the words could even leave your mouth.

At the sound of two new muffled voices carrying up from the living room and what appeared to be noises from shuffling feet, Bucky rose straight from the bed, off you.

Your gaze trailed his to the door, and you reached for him.

“Baby, it’s just—”

Bucky was back on his feet. Yanking his boxers and pants up his legs and buckling his belt in no time at all.

The movers. It’s just the movers bringing in furniture—

You moved your hand closer to your husband in the hopes of stalling his movements for half a second, but then a set of ruthless blue eyes had you pinned, quick:

“Stay.”

Your outstretched arm was taken up in a much stronger, stiffer one, and you were suddenly pulled over to Bucky.

But you knew from the eyes it wasn’t him at all.

And you weren’t so much being tugged toward him as you were being hauled to the floor. Thrown on your knees beside the bed, next to Bucky. He was about to leave.

Without thinking, you reached for one of the legs of his trousers and sank your nails into the fabric to hold him in place, to tell him again that there was nothing to see out there but the people you knew, no threat outside at all. But Bucky was deaf to your pleas, it seemed. He shrugged you off easily and made a move for his gun, expression blank, stolid, calm, hardened. Decided.

You tried to rise to your feet but were stopped.

“STAY,” Bucky boomed again, this time an order that he didn’t even deign to complete with a look your way.

If he had—if he even possessed the ability to consider anything but the immediate task at hand—he would’ve seen his own hand knock you to the floor to keep you from standing. Might’ve caught a glimpse of the instant your head struck the edge of the nightstand before you hit the ground. Could’ve even made out the first traces of blood that came trickling out from above your temple. Would’ve seen you cower back, viscerally, out of fear.

But holding the side of your head and watching him leave, grim realization twisted at the pit of your stomach, and you knew the man wouldn’t have stopped if he had.

If your soldat’s objective was to protect you from any harm lurking outside that door, real or illusory, nothing you were capable of doing now could stop that. At expense to yourself, at expense to him, at expense to whatever lives stood between the Winter Soldier and that unwavering, hardwired goal, he still would not ever stop.

Thinking of new, innocent lives in the balance, now, you scrambled for your phone the next second to call Steve.

You tried him once. Twice. A third time crawling on your knees, then standing, then staggering over to the door and pulling the phone from your ear just to send a string of texts to your friend while the thing continued to ring.

SOS

Need help

Pick up please

Bucky’s stuck and he’s

About to hurt people here

A crash sounded outside. You hurried to the door. Your hand closed around the knob and tried to turn it. The handle turned freely, but something behind it was refusing to let you leave the room. You pressed again.

“Bucky!”

Your cry was useless in the face of the barricade outside.

You pushed your shoulder and, behind it, the whole force of your weight against it anyway, trying to get out.

The line went dead. You tried again.

Now with your phone to one ear and the bedroom door taking the brunt of your hits from the other, bleeding side of your body, you scarcely heard much of anything else. The ring started. Stopped. Began again when you pressed a shaky finger to Steve’s contact name, and continued in a cycle for some time while you tried to force whatever was on the other side of the door away.

The second a voice broke through the haze of your frantic, half-crazed state of consciousness, you cried:

“STEVE!”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

You were shocked to hear a woman on the other end. Your pulse was still racing, shoulder aching from the impact of each desperate push you’d been forcing against the door, and then you stopped. Another loud something sounded down the hallway, further away, but you were too startled and unnerved to take any note of it.

You started to ask, ‘Where’s Steve?’ when the voice continued:

“This is Mrs. Barnes?”

“Yes,” you answered woodenly.

You held the phone as close to your ear as you could, but still, the woman’s words were coming in and out in bursts. You must’ve mistakenly accepted the call when trying to reach Steve—you couldn’t think right now; could barely retract the phone far enough to see a strange number displayed on the screen. You swallowed.

“—from Lenox Hill Hospital at Northwell Health—”

The high-rise medical center on the Upper East Side you’d visited that week. Bucky had wanted you tested for nutritional deficiencies and anemia, of all fucking things.

“—if you had a moment or two to chat and maybe—”

No, you needed Steve, not this outpatient courtesy call.

You would’ve liked to hang up. Should’ve hung up. In fact, your fingers were practically itching to hit the button the whole time the nurse was speaking to you, but something in you just couldn’t be persuaded to do it. It took several more seconds before your senses began to creep back, and by then, when you were about to drop the call, you heard a phrase that stopped you on a dime.

“—but the doctor advises prenatal vitamins—”

“What?” you snapped, far more harshly than you meant.

The nurse paused a beat, whether from incredulity at how rude you’d just sounded or to consider something. When she resumed, she sounded a little more guarded.

“Yes…Dr. Watkins did reach out to you about your bloodwork from your last visit, didn’t she? I thought—”

“No,” you said, rushed and painfully brusque, again. You tried to rein in your tone some before continuing, “She didn’t—didn’t reach out about anything. What vitamins?”

Another pause.

“Prenatals.”

You hated that she gave you another second to chew on that word before taking a breath and pressing on.

“I’m terribly, terribly sorry to be the one to spring that on you, Mrs. Barnes—I thought you knew…um—” The nurse was sheepish now, almost embarrassed to be speaking, “—you’re about…three weeks along in your pregnancy.”

Three weeks along.

Advised prenatal vitamins.

For the child growing inside of you.

A rivulet of blood trickled into your left eye.

Your whole body was apt to convulse, but it didn’t.

You hung up.

—

Taglist: (please lmk if I missed anyone! I can only tag 50 at a time so will continue in a separate post) @vicmc624 @she-could-never @mcira @kentokaze @identity2212 @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx @stinkerbelle007 @opibarnes @wilsons-striped-ties @desigirlxx @pono-pura-vida @geminiflanagansblog @buggy14 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @buckysdoll1520 @armystay89 @minimarvelingmarvel @kunakizen @ghostiebby06 @blackhawkfanatic @dameron-grantspector @sushiseoks @deansapplepie @mrsjoequinn @gyokujyn @lunaroserites @first-edition @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi @excusememrbarnes @daisychainsoflove @mostlymarvelgirl @diannana @shawnberry @yujyujj @urmomsalex @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @athenabarnes @christinabae @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast @wintrsoldrluvr @bethbunnyy @i-heart-smut @aagn360 @dahliawolfe @fantasyfootballchampion @lilyevanstan1325 @kandis-mom @thealyrs

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chxrryhansen · 3 months

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure. Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers. All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home. Moving in above your brother in law's garage. ��Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

#chxrrys fic recs #chxrrys masterlist #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #lloyd hansen #andy barber #ari levinson #chris evans fic recs #steve rogers fic recs

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wandaromanoffroses · 3 months

Text

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Requested

Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity

Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.

Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)

Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).

“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early.

“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.

You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose.

Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.

“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned.

“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.

“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice.

“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.

“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed.

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold.

“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”

“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.

“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable.

“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone.

..........................................................................

You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.

You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.

“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom.

You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.

“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish.

“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier.

“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry.

“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.

“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.”

You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.

Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.

“Words bitch.”

“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.

“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this.

When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased.

She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.

“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown.

“Can I take this off angel?”

“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts.

“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”

“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.

“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her.

“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”

“Natasha, please…”

“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”

“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.”

“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.

“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.

“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.

You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.

“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.

“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”

“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound.

“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical.

“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long.

You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.

“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal.

“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.

“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.

As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.

“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”

“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks.

“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”

#black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x y/n #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel smut #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n

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moonvis · 3 months

Text

IDIOTS IN LOVE

Steve Rogers x F! Reader

incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony

Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.

Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.

“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”

“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.

“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”

“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-

“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”

You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”

You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.

You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.

You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”

Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.

“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.

You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.

The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.

A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.

“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.

The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.

“I know! Old people are the cutest.”

“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”

You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.

“Y/N? Earth to--”

“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.

She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”

“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.

You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”

Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.

“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”

Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter, would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.

Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”

You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”

Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.

You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.

Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.

You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?

Then, it hits you. Natasha.

Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”

Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.

“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”

You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.

As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.

Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?

“Hey.”

The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”

You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass yourself in front of him again.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.

You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.

“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”

Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.

“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.

“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.

You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”

You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”

You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”

“Y/N-”

“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,

Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”

Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.

You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.

As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.

You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.

You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.

It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?

As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.

“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”

“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”

“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”

It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”

You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.

“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.

“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”

“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”

The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?

“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”

“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”

As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.

It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.

As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”

Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.

Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.

The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”

“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.

“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.

“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.

You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?

“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”

“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”

Steve was blabbering on about you?

“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.

You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.

You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.

"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.

Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."

You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.

"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.

You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."

"No come on!"

As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.

Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.

All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.

Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.

When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”

“In the gym ma’am.”

You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”

“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”

You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”

Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.

You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.

Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.

Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.

“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”

You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”

You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.

“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”

The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.

Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.

You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”

“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.

“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”

Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”

“Cause none of them were you.”

You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”

“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.

“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.

Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”

“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”

Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”

“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”

Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.

Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”

You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”

You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.

It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.

You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.

THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3

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