#if the shield is specifically what he has left of Steve don’t think about

[evansbby]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

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

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

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

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

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

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

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

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

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

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take it out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

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

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.          

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

 Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air.  It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

 With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Dramatic snowball fight with this prompt one muse has little to no experience with sex and approaches the other more experienced muse to teach them with the loml Steve Harrington! Please and thank you 💋

a/n: is it weird that now that i’ve written it i wanna do it again? there are just so many possibilities, but this one is just too good to not share and just throw in the trash

word count: 855

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Hey, there you are!” you saw Steve stumble across the lawn towards the rusty garden bench you were currently occupying, “I thought for a second you had left without me,” he sat down next to you, a plastic cup in his hand with only the memory of a drink sloshing around at the bottom, “what are you doing out here?”

Still far away in your thoughts, you glanced back at the roaring party you had been invited to, “it just got a bit loud in there, that’s all…”

“You want me to take you home?” he offered, trying to catch your distracted eye.

“No, no, I just needed a moment,” you finally met his searching glance. 

Taking in the slight furrow to your brow, he asked softly, “are you alright?” gently placing a hand above your knee, “did something happen?”

Still overwhelmed with unanswered questions, you just blurted out, “what’s a g-spot?” in the exact same tone you would have used to ask what the time was.

Choking on his intake of air, he blinked hard, “I’m sorry? W-what?”

“Is it something bad?” you asked in alarm, eyes growing at his stunned reaction.  

“No, it’s-,” he rushed, snatching back his comforting touch, “why are you asking?”

“I just overheard someone in there talking and there were some of the words they used that I didn’t really know.”

“Oh,” he breathed jaggedly. 

“And, I mean, I don’t exactly have a dictionary on me,” you scratched the itch on your cheek, “even tried to find theirs, but I couldn’t.”

Letting an uncontrollable chuckle go, he said, “I don’t think you’d be able to find the definition of that in a dictionary, sweetheart.”

“Why? What is it?”

“It’s, um,” he attempted carefully, “a specific spot inside of you that feels really good.”

Your brows not unfurrowing at his vague explanation, you repeated in a questioning tone, “…a specific spot inside of me?”  

Sucking in a sharp breath, he clarified with a squint of his eye, “inside your pussy.”

“Inside my-, oh my god,” your hands instantly shot up to hide the flush razing to cover your entire face, “oh my god!” you shrieked, mortified that you had unknowingly asked him to explain something like that to you.

Feeling his fingers touch your forearm in a plea to lay down your shield, “what?”

“No!” you wiggled his touch off of you, the sensation only worsening your flustered state.  

“It’s okay, you have nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Oh really? You’re not the one accidentally asking your friend sex questions!” you let your hands slide down your face, staring up at the night sky in horror, “I am so sorry, I didn’t know, I swear.”

“Y/n, it’s alright. I don’t mind talking to you about that kind of stuff.”

Hesitantly, your averted vision flickered back down upon him, “you don’t?”

“No, I don’t,” he shrugged. 

“I-, okay…” his intense stare made your whole body tingle and sent an all too visible shiver down your spine, “stop looking at me like that.”

Refusing to avert his gaze, a soft smile simply bloomed on his lips as his head cocked to the side, “you’re cute when you get all flustered, you know that?”

“I am?”

“I sometimes forget how innocent you are with these things. It’s like you’re a little princess in a fairytale or something, I love it,” he chuckled lightly. 

Offering him a slight eye roll, you said, “I am not a princess.”

“Oh yeah?” he grinned. 

“Yeah.”

Tongue flickering out to wetten his lower lip, Steve scooted just an inch closer to you on the bench and uttered, “you know, I don’t think I properly explained to you yet what it really is.”

“No?” your breath caught in your throat as you looked back into his chocolaty eyes. 

“In a lot of ways that kind of stuff is easier to learn about in practice. It really helps when you have a visual aid.”

“A-a visual-…” your breathy echo trailed off. 

“So, you know, if you ever want a more in-depth understanding,” his eyes briefly flickering down lower upon your face, “you just let me know.” 

Holding eye contact a moment longer, “o-okay,” he then leaned back and returned his vision to the rumbling party still buzzing in the background. 

“You wanna go back inside?” he asked casually. 

Stilled dazed, overwhelmed by the strong beat of your pulse throbbing between your clenched thighs, “inside?”

“Yeah, you wanna go grab another drink?”

“Actually,” you breathed, “I think I might be ready to go home soon. You know, if that’s alright with you,” you rambled nervously, “if you’re ready to go too, I don’t wanna cut the party short if you’re not-” 

Still recalling the agreement you had made to leave just as you had arrived together in order to avoid having to drunkenly navigate the small town all alone, he cut off your jittery babble, “well, let’s go then.”

Sucking in a jagged breath, you wondered if you’d be able to gather up the courage to take him up on his offer before you parted ways and the night was over.

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington hc #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb

[rbinsgf]

Turn the other cheek, and I take it on the chin /Part 2/

Part 1

The sky was blue, two and two made four and Eddie was a coward.

Those were the irrefutable truth of the world. Eddie used to call his behavior "self-preservation" when he ran away from cops and angry jocks mob, or when he skipped a class he couldn’t understand, or when he ran away after witnessing one of the most traumatizing death in the history of mankind.

But as he saw Robin Buckley angrily stomping down his stairs and into his basement, he couldn’t qualify his next course of actions of anything but cowardice.

He had known day more glorious but as he shielded himself from the furious woman with a, for once, quite Mike Wheeler, he couldn’t care less about his image in front of his club.

Hypocritical right ? Yeah that’s another truth Eddie was very well aware about himself but who would dare look him in the eye and spit that fact in his face ?

Robin Buckley actually, as she did not hesitate to shove Mike out of the way and grab Eddie by the collar of his worn out Hellfire shirt, bringing him dangerously close to her angry red face, and shoving him against the wall.

"You, Edward Theodore Munson, are the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever seen. How dare you force those big monologues on conformity and "Hawkins’ monster" on us on top of those poor cafeteria tables, only to turn around and do exactly what you so loudly claim to be against ?"

Eddie was petrified, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. The basement was as quiet as ever, everyone seemed to hold their breath, too scared they might remind Robin of their presence.

"Steve changed, actually no, he didn’t change. He just had the courage to show his true self, he stripped away from the role that was forced on him by his parents, friends, everyone in this shitty town and by you too. He would and has put his life on the line so many times for every single one of you," She said the last part louder, slightly tilting her head to the side towards a specific side of the table but never moving her rage filled gaze from Eddie’s wide eyes. "He trusted you Eddie, he confided in you and what did you do ? You humiliated him by using his vulnerability against him. I hope you’re happy your pathetic little audience appreciated the spectacle." A protest formed itself on Jeff’s lips but was quickly shut off by a quick glare and an honest to god growl from Robin.

"You know what truly breaks my heart Eddie ? Steve still defended you and he doesn’t even blame you ! Do with that information what you want but I hope it makes you feel so bad you won’t be able to look yourself in any type of reflection for as long as possible."

She slowly stepped away from him, releasing her grip on his shirt and making a show of dusting him off,

"If you want to know what I think of this shit show Eddie. You don’t deserve him." She turned around, facing the kids, "and you guys are a bunch of ungrateful brats who don’t deserve Steve and all that he does for you."

She only looked at the older Hellfire members with disgust before turning back to Eddie. The man in question was looking at the ground, his head hanging guiltily and shoulder hunched.

Robin stepped back into his space, her mouth close to his ear, and let out her final strike in a quite sigh,

"And to think that man saved your life.."

With that, she left as she came, the front door banging loudly behind her.

That last sentence she had whispered in his ear sent a glacial chill down Eddie’s spine. It stabbed through his chest in plain and shameful guilt. Eddie sat heavily on his throne. A throne that Steve had spent two weeks making since the basketball team had burned his old one when he was on the run. He lost himself in a spiral of shame and regrets, cringing at himself as he pictured how it all went down earlier and how, even after noticing Steve leaving, they’d kept that same behavior. Laughing at the expense of the poor man like hyenas. One by one, the older members left quietly. The kids stayed a little longer, sitting in silence before all leaving in a quiet agreement. Eddie only registered Dustin telling him they will be using the phone to call for a drive home. A drive home that, for the first time since the boys had joined Hellfire, wouldn’t be Steve.

Eddie had fucked up, that much was very clear. He also knew why he said all those horrible things, he craved the validation and admiration of his sheepies and hellfire friends.

The only way he had found to maintain those was to do what he had always done.

To the detriment of his friends, Eddie was a hypocrite, selfish and coward man. Eddie saw an opportunity to remind his club of who he was, Eddie "the Freak" Munson, natural nemesis of the jocks.

Robin’s words kept circling in his mind viciously.

The sheer fury that emanated of her trembling frame was enough for Eddie to imagine how bad his words must’ve affected Steve.

He knew those exact words would hurt him and he still said them.

He also knew Steve, through and through now, and with that came the knowledge of what Steve might be thinking about himself right now.

Because his sweet, kind and good Steve, didn’t even blame him one bit. Eddie’s words had definitely hit a very tender spot in Steve’s myriad of insecurities and self doubts.

The man was probably descending full speed through the worst of his self deprecating thoughts right now.

Eddie wished the bats had eaten him alive as the thought of Steve believing Eddie saw him for who he was not.

Eddie would rather Vecna came back as a zombie than Steve Harrington taking his stupid, stupid words at heart and believing them.

If Eddie was going to do one last thing, it was to make sure that Steve knew he wasn’t seen as anything but the painfully good man he truly was.

Resignation filled his mind and he pushed himself up from the throne, walked out of the basement and took the keys of his van before stepping, in the soon to be dark, street.

Eddie was going to see Steve, apologize but most importantly beg the man to not take Eddie’s words for one of the universe’s truth.

It’ll be the last thing he’ll do if Robin Buckley didn’t kill him before for daring to stand in the same vicinity as her friend.

———————————————

Here’s part 2 !! And Eddie’s pov yay !! I’m so grateful for your response to the first part as it’s also a response to me getting back to writing and it motivates me so much guys !!!

Next part will be up in a few days since I’m going back to college full time but I’ll do my best to update this little fic as soon as possible !

I tried to tag everyone who asked for it and hope it all worked ?

Love y’all gang ! 🫶🏼🧡

Tag list : @liketheocean @cameheretoread @doubleb11 @m-owo-n @moonage-daydreaming @shitnshit @throwbackthrowaway @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @zerokrox-blog @summer1066 @thesuninyaface @i-less-three-than-you @gamerdano @ineffablecolors @warriorwerewolfheart @tinysuits @cr0w-culture @thatonepotatochild @classicwho @lololol-1234 @what-is-life-but-an-empty-void @victor-thee-corvid @little-gae-shit @livelaughlexa @a-little-unsteady @stevie-crow @val-from-lawrence

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things 4 #steddie #the fruity four #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #steddie fic #stobin #stobin fic #steve and robin #stobin friendship #platonic soulmates stobin #Steve Harrington x the party

[ahappyplacefornat]

Hey :》

What about Nat being a mom for her kids while she is still working for shield as the black widow?

Have a nice day or night!!!

The black widow as a mom

Word count: 1328

Summary: Natasha has to handle three kids plus being the black widow. A hard task.

Pairing: slight Natasha Romanoff x gn!neutral reader.

Warnings: none

None: It took me real long to finish this request, I hope you like it and please let me know if you see any mistakes! This is also way shorter than I wanted it to be, let me know if you would like a part 2 :(

So, one would think Natasha is perfectly capable of handling three kids and a job as a spy for SHIELD, right? 

Well, that’s right, she is. But it is certainly not as easy as she and her partner thought it would be.

First of all and probably the question she made herself the most, why were they so bad at timing?

I mean, yeah, they’re kids, but everytime they would call her, she was always doing something dangerous that needed her complete attention.

But her kids were always gonna be first.

In the middle of an interrogation, a phone started ringing. To be oddly specific, Nats phone started ringing from her purse. Damn it! she thought, how did she forget to leave her normal phone at home and bring her work phone with her? it probably had something to do with her partner suggesting it was a good idea to buy THE SAME PHONE twice, since the second one would be cheaper, she couldn’t believe she let them take that offer.

“So, what do we have here?” One of the men in front of her took the phone out and read from the screen the contact name: “Honey”. His face instantly brightened up as he stared at the screen, that wasn’t a good sign. “Here is what’s gonna happen, darling. I’ll let you answer the call so you can reassure your little ´honey´ you are ok” he smiled “then we will keep talking and maybe you’ll see them again, are we clear?” 

“As water” she answered, with a side smirk before getting to answer the call. As soon as she did, she heard a loud set of laughter that she could recognize everywhere. 

“Mama, you sure took your time to answer” it was Yakov, the oldest. After that, she swears she could hear Irina tell him to hurry up.

“Hi, baby. Is everything okay at home?” a suddenly calming voice got out of her mouth, it was always so warm talking with them. But she needed this call to end as soon as possible.

“Yeah, umm” the only thing she could hear was his breathing, that got her a little worried. She was already holding her own “The responsible adult that was supposed to take care of us left like fifteen minutes ago to the grocery store” He meant their parent, he was always the sassy one “And we don’t have a clue on where the cheese is so we can make some sandwiches…We thought maybe you knew, do you?”

And she obviously did, it was in the fridge, at the bottom, as always. She sighed.

It was actually kind of refreshing to have your kids asking the most silly question at the worst moments, she was gonna give them that.

It wasn’t their fault, after all, the only thing they knew about her job is that sometimes she would run into Captain America or Thor and that “wasn’t a big deal”.

She knew they thought that she was a cashier close to the avengers tower. Sometimes, she wishes that was true.

It got a little more complicated when her middle child started a tantrum because she wanted to go with her on the “bring your kid to work” day.

Don’t get her wrong, Natasha LOVED her kids more than anything, she was grateful everyday for them and to finally have a family with the person she loved the most, but sometimes they were too much. By too much she didn’t mean annoying or anything related, they were just…special.

Out of nowhere, she found herself walking to the store next to the Avengers tower, holding the little hand of her daughter while she tried to hide her face under a pair of sunglasses (thanks, Steve). Both went inside the little shop called Iron-Groceries and started walking through every corner.

“Soooo…this is where mama works” said the little girl, with a little spark of disappointment on her voice “I was expecting something better”

“Were you?” Natasha couldn’t help but let a giggle get out of her mouth “You do know I never said I worked here, right?” Nat got on her knees to speak clearly with her daughter, tapping her forehead with her finger “You just assumed that, baby”.

“Well, yeah…” accepted the shorter one, a bit ashamed “But you always refuse to tell us what is your work about and I was excited to think of you as the most beautiful cashier to EVER exist” while saying ever, she made sure to draw a giant circle with her hands, Natasha thought that she was very, very wrong when she believed that she couldn’t love her kids more.

“How about we buy some chocolates and go to the exhibition of ironman at the bottom of the tower, would you like that?” Said the redhead, feeling incapable of stopping her smile.

To be completely honest, the most difficult part for Nat wasn’t receiving strange calls during her missions or getting mistaken as a cashier.

It was always going to be the fact that she was missing important moments of her kids' lives because she couldn't risk being recognised or she was too busy with work.

School events? never. Doctor appointments? Not even dreaming. Dinner with the mothers of the other kids at school? Maybe she didn’t miss that one so much.

She was always sad everytime she needed to leave.

Watching their little eyes water whenever she said she wouldn’t come back in a few days.

It never failed to break her heart.

But there was ONE thing she would never miss.

she would always turn down any mission she had just to take her youngest kid to the optics so he could get new glasses.

She was never gonna regret that.

Standing in front of the store, with her little boy in her arms, both had a confused look on their faces. They had so many options, from red to purple glasses to big and small frames. It was never an easy decision, the hour and a half that they already spent there was proof.

“I think I want the blue ones, mama” Exhaled the blond boy, trying to make up his mind. Kind of tired even if he wasn’t touching the floor at all to stand.

“Do you? last week you said you wanted black ones, to look cool at kindergarten” She said, looking at him with a tiny smile.

“Yeah, I do” He said, so sure of himself that even Nat felt confident with his decision.

“Well, let’s go then” she reaffirmed him on her side and began to walk inside the store, but just before she could get fully inside, the little guy spoke.

“But maybe the yellow ones…” and there Natasha could sense another hour and a half coming for them. 

She wasn’t expecting Fury to be happy as soon as she went back, since she clearly told him this was only going to take twenty minutes. She grabbed her baby’s cheek and left a kiss there, followed by many others as his laugh only got her to feel even more tempted to never stop. All this time was never a waste. 

There is not much more to say about this, but maybe we could finish talking about the rough days, the end of those to be more specific.

After dealing with everything involving her three kids and her job, there was nothing more delightful than laying on bed with her loved one.

Just feeling the back of her arm being calmly touched in little rounded forms at night was enough to get her realizing that everything was more than worth it.

She would sleep like a tree, being the little spoon after tiring days and sometimes sharing her bed with one of the kids if not all of them.

She would definitively put her phone in flying mode, never wanting to bother her little family with working calls in the middle of the night.

#marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #black widow #black widow x reader #gn!reader #natasha romanoff x male reader

[druigprotectionsquad]

||WHERE ARE YOU?|| Bucky x F! Reader WHUMP

Inspired by my own whump prompt that you can read here

Summary- You are captured on a mission by a HYDRA agent from Bucky’s past, a dangerous man with a thirst to inflict pain. You are tied to a tree miles out where anyone could find you, forced to face the harsh elements and no food or water. It’s days before the team find you, and when they do you are weak, severely sun burnt and freezing cold.

WARNINGS- whumpee reader, caretaker Bucky, reader is tied and gagged to a tree and left for days, reader suffers from sunburn, sunstroke & almost hypothermia, stab wounds,VERY VERY BRIEF MENTIONS OF IMPLIED SEXUAL TORTURE BUT NOTHING ACTUALLY HAPPENS

“Bucky she’s not here”

 Steve sighed out in frustration as he looked at his friend. You had been missing and presumed captured on your last mission 5 days ago. You had gotten cocky and went after a HYDRA  Agent who was closely involved in The Winter Soldier Program. Before the mission everyone could see how unnerved Bucky was, but he insisted on coming because he knew what the agent was capable of doing.

One second you were there, the next you were gone from Bucky’s sight without a trace. There were too many agents and the team were forced to retreat, much to Bucky’s pleas for them to stay.

It had been days. Your tracker was knocked off during the fight but it was the only lead the team had, according to the tracker you were still in the building. Tony received word from SHIELD that the base they stormed had began to evacuate. They had to move now or risk loosing you forever.

“Yes she is, Steve” Bucky said through gritted teeth, he doesn’t know if he believes his own words but he can’t bring himself to think otherwise. He and Steve stood in a room full of unconscious agents, each one were questioned on your whereabouts, and the agent who took you. You were both gone, which Bucky knew meant only one thing, that you weren’t going to survive much longer.

5 days ago

You were stood by Bucky’s side against a wall, waiting for the right moment to strike the room full of agents ahead. You looked up at him, he was focused but you could see the deeper fear that resided in his eyes. The night before he told you about the horrors he seen at his time at HYDRA, the torture this specific agent,  Agent Henry Cassidy, had committed. Bucky has never told you what he himself had suffered, and he swore he never would, but he made it clear that this agent had done despicable things to him. He did not want to see this mans face again.

“James, it’ll be okay, we’ll find him and bring him in” You whispered, putting a hand on his upper arm.

He gulped and nodded, he couldn’t find the words to speak.

When you finally struck it became a struggle, fighting every agent who came your way. Dodging punches and bullets was no easy task, even for an Avenger like you. You had taken care of most of them, while Bucky was fending off the remaining four. You were ready to rush in and help him but a clatter in the opposite direction caught your attention. It was Agent Cassidy. He had slipped into the room, presumably to surprise attack his former victim but as soon as he was noticed he took of running.

You looked back at James who had 2 men left to take down, he caught your eye and new exactly what you were about to do.

“Y/N don’t you dare!” Before he could finish you were sprinting to catch the agent. Your mission was to capture him for questioning then release him to SHEILD’s custody so he could no longer cause anymore harm. You were alone running down the corridor, Bucky’s shouting getting fainter the further away you got.

You stopped for only a second, but that second allowed him to get the jump on you. Before you could register what was happening you were unconscious.

“Any luck?” Tony’s voice rang through the comms, hoping that they had found you yet. Both men winced at Tony’s words. No one had found you.

“Check the perimeter”

“We have Bucky-”

“-Well then check again!” Bucky’s words cut through Tony’s, but he agreed to check again.

Bucky placed both hands on his head and trembled, trying his best not to burst in anger. You were here, you had to be.

4 Days ago

Bright light from the setting sun blinded you as you attempted to open your eyes. Waking from unconsciousness you found yourself tied with thick rope to the shaft of a thick tree. You had been gagged with thick silver duct tape that was wrapped several times around your mouth. Realizing your predicament you began to shout and thrash, but no luck. The rope was tightly secured from your chest to ankles, keeping you firmly stuck against the tree.

A sinister laugh brought your thrashing to a halt. Squinting ahead you saw the figure who put you here, Agent Cassidy.

“Struggling is useless, Y/N.” He laughed again. Bucky had no idea that his worst nightmare was playing out at the same time he was begging Steve not to leave without you. You were miles outside the base, further than the team would think to look, just like Agent Cassidy had planned.

You huffed and whined through the tape in anger. A million thoughts were running through your head;

What is he gonna do? is Bucky okay? where are the team? Did he hurt Bucky? God what is he going to do?

The sun was setting in the sky and you were tied to a tree miles away from your team...was he going to leave you here?

You looked around in despair, searching for a way out when the agents voice cut in again.

“You look just like how he did when I tortured him for the first time” He waited in silence with a horrible evil grin on his face. You huffed out in anger again, knowing he was talking about Bucky.

“He screamed, he cried, he begged. He begged for the pain to stop while he was strapped down, as a peeled of his fingernails one by one-”

“MMHP!” you tried to scream through the gag for him to stop. You couldn’t take hearing the pain Bucky went through, he never wanted to speak to you about it and as much as you wanted to help him you were happy not to hear about the things he went through.

“You however...” He trailed over to you as he spoke

“will be subjected to a different kind of torture, a method I have been just dying to try out. I didn’t think you’d be in my clutch so soon but you made it so easy to lure you out.”

You were wishing you had listened to Bucky, he knew better than you. He knew immediately that you were being lured out, but was unable to stop you in time from taking the bait. 

Tears ran from your eyes, he was now face to face with you, scanning you quietly to think about all the things he could do to you, if only he had the time.

The sun was setting fast and the cold would be taking over the night. He pulled a small knife from his pocket and twirled it in his hand.

“I wish I could witness all this in person for longer, but I can’t risk the Avengers finding me, I have too much work to do. So until they find you-if they find you, you’ll be here tied to this tree fighting the hot sun and the freezing nights. There are cameras hidden in the trees that are connected to the base and my residence, so I can take notes on how effective this torture is, understand?”

You couldn’t help but scowl at the satisfied look on his face, he had lured you into a torture trap and you let him, any one could have seen the bait from miles away. You were so caught up in being the one to catch him so that Bucky could have some peace that you abandoned all protocol and logic and put yourself in this situation.

A car horn beeped in the distance and the agent turned to leave.

“One last thing, hold this for me” Before you could try to respond, the knife in his hand was forcibly driven into your inner thigh. As you screamed out in pain he disappeared into the night, leaving you in the cold with blood streaming down your leg.

For the next 4 days it was you versus nature.

Day 1 you started with little energy, not being able to sleep from the night before due to the discomfort of the rope, gag, and knife that was still firmly in your leg. 

Day 2, an unforgiving sun and unforgiving heat. Winter was still here but spring was approaching. The sun wouldn't have been such a big issue had you been at the other side of the tree, but you felt it was deliberate to have you in direct sunlight. With no clouds and no coverage, the sun was focused on your face and neck, you couldn’t see your reflection but as the day progressed you were being left with serious sunburn, and sunstroke developed. By night the sunstroke kicked in and you were getting weaker. With no food or water and your mouth still taped shut it was beginning to dawn on you that the Avengers weren’t going to find you as soon as you hoped.

Day 3, you had passed out during the night and woke up to heavy rainfall and wind. You were feeling the affects of hunger and thirst, frustrated that you couldn’t try to catch the rain drops on your tongue. The wind was irritating the dagger in your leg and you hoped it might be knocked out if you tried to move it, but to no avail. The rain stopped in the afternoon, you were completely soaked and starting to freeze as the wind battered your skin. You were beginning to loose the little strength you had left as you could no longer feel your hands. The night of the third day was the worst of it, still ill from the sun you were struggling not to throw up, but couldn’t expel it due to the tape. The wound in your leg had become infected without you noticing, and you were nauseated from the pain of hunger in your stomach. 3 days tied to a tree in the woods, you were cursing out your team for not finding you yet, you were cursing out yourself for being so incredibly stupid.

You wondered where the cameras were, you wondered where that bastard was and if he was watching every minute of your struggle.

At the same time, on the third night Bucky was  pacing around the living quarters of the tower, while Bruce was attempting to calm him down. The search never stopped but it was too dangerous to return to the base, which Bucky exploded with anger when Natasha said that to him. He wasn’t listening to anyone, only listening to the terrible thoughts in his head. 

The only thing Bucky was thinking about was how sick and twisted his mind was. Bucky failed to mention how much pleasure Agent Cassidy got out of torture. He never wanted to tell the team but Cassidy was driven by a pure sexual desire, he got off on the torture and pain of others, especially when he was the cause of it. He was pacing in fear knowing this information, fearing what things Y/N could be subjected to at this very moment. The team knew something deeper was wrong with Bucky, but Steve urged them not to push him for more information. All they knew is that this agent was good at torturing his victims, and that he enjoyed doing it.

Day 4

You had passed out during the night loaded with a fever, you were too weak to stay awake and hold your head up any longer. You were struggling to breathe through your nose because you began to panic that you would die out here if no one found you. It was in that panic your head felt light and you were out. The sun was just rising, and unbeknownst to you, Bucky and the team had come back and were only miles away.

Bucky and Steve had left the room of unconscious agents and ran to every room in the base, screaming your name until their throats were raw, until Clint’s voice rang through the empty base speakers.

“Guys I have good news and bad news. Good news I found the control room cameras, bad news she’s not on any of them.” Clint and Wanda had found the control room filled with security camera’s but most of them had been smashed or damaged.

Bucky had reached the control room while Steve split up to find Tony outside to continue the search. He was loosing all hope, he merely sat down in the middle of the floor and wrung his hands. 

“I don’t recognize that location.” Wanda pointed to the the small cluster of trees on screen.

Bucky looked up and  observed, still saying nothing. Clint squinted at the trees.

“If it’s on the cameras then it must be close right? maybe it’s a few miles further out”

Wanda and Clint turned to look at Bucky who had turned his head to the side as if he was figuring something out. He stood up suddenly and walked over to the camera.

“What are you doung there, Buck?” Clint questioned.

“I’m turning the sound on” Bucky replied in a grumble.

“Security Cameras don’t have sound-”

“-These ones do!” Bucky shouted back at him. After fiddling with buttons on the back of the monitor showing the trees, the light whistling wind picked up. Wanda and Clint looked at each other and back at their slightly unstable teammate, unsure what his plan was.

Bucky held his finger to the comms system,

“Everyone be on standby, I have a plan”

“Copy that” Steve’s voice came strong through.

Bucky searched his pockets for his phone and the plan became clear. he had no idea what he would do if this didn’t work, this was the last shot he had.

 He opened his phone and clicked on your number, everyone was silent...

A faint ringing came through the screen, Wanda held her hand over her mouth, Clint sighed and Bucky let out a cry of relief. He informed the team to fly out as far as possible until they reach the end of the woods then start working inwards, Tony took the North, Wanda the East, Thor took off west, while Wanda flew south with Bucky and Steve in a HYDRA jeep they found just outside the base. Bucky was behind the wheel driving at a furious speed. 

“I found her!” Wanda’s voice echoed through the sky, Bucky finally reached Wanda who could only stare at the state her friend was in. 

“Y/N!” Bucky had never shouted so loud in his life, he ran towards her, mind completely blank as his legs carried him to his injured lover. Steve stood behind them to talk through the comms telling the team to get the Quinnjet ready, and to contact Doctor Cho immediately. Bucky took a small blade from his pocket and slowly cut the tape around your head, carefully peeling it off as gently as he could to avoid hurting you any more. He went to cut the rope as quickly as he could before Wanda stopped him.

“She’s injured, she’ll collapse as soon as the rope is cut. Hold her up, Steve will cut it and I’ll get Tony to read her condition.” She flew off to find Tony and Jarvis to help. Steve noticed the knife in your thigh and carefully pulled it out so when you fall it doesn’t cause more damage.

“It’s infected.” Steve spoke and Bucky nodded.

Bucky put both his hands on your face and gently tilted your head up, now seeing the burns on your face and the paleness of the rest of your skin.

“Shit” Bucky inhaled under his breath as Steve came to see the damage. He held it together to keep Bucky calm, but he was just as distressed to see his teammate and friend in such condition.

“She’s gonna be okay Buck, get ready I’m cutting the ropes” 

Steve cut through the ropes, careful not to cut them all at once to avoid giving you a fright. Your body was finally free and you fell into Buckys arms, he lay you down on the ground with your head in his lap to take the strain off your neck.

“Y/N, c’mon wake up” Bucky repeated, lightly tapping on your cheek to try get your attention. He placed his hands lovingly on your cheeks and put his forehead against yours.

“James?” You spoke out softly, the words came out as barely a whisper. You didn’t have the strength to open your eyes but you knew the touch of your boyfriend anywhere. He smiled and lifted you up slowly, carrying you in his arms to place you in the backseat of the jeep.

Consciousness was beginning to fade again, but with the little strength you had left you reached your arm out to grab Bucky before he pulled away.

“He can see-see us, Buck” You struggled to breathe let alone speak, before you could see his reaction you had promptly passed out again. The cameras had not been spotted by him or Steve, but agent Cassidy had a full view of your torment, and now he could see just how much The Winter Soldier cared for you...Now he had a plan to bring The Winter Soldier back

#fanfiction #buckybarnes #buckyxreader #whump tropes #whump blog #whump prompt #bucky fanfic #injured reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky being a sad mess #the winter soldier #x reader #whumpee #marvel fanfiction

[lokidokieokie]

Accidental Confessions

Summary: After a mission to collect a special vile, the team unwinds on the quinjet back to the Tower. What happens when Tony decides that it was a good idea to unleash whatever was inside?

Warnings: Language that Steve wouldn’t approve of :)

It was meant to be a simple mission: go in, collect the vile, get out. 

But, of course, it wasn’t as simple as it was meant to be. You guys were the Avengers after all. 

Something that Nicky happened to forget to mention was that the abandoned Hydra based you were meant to collect this vile from...wasn’t as abandoned as everyone thought it was.

They were fucking everywhere. The Hydra agents were like cockroaches: no matter how many you killed, fifty other ones seemed to take their place. And they just wouldn’t fucking die!

Like what were they made out of? Titanium? You had to stab one at least five times before they even screamed. They’re some special breed of Hydra crazy. 

But thank whatever Gods are out there (cause there has got to be more than Horns and Golden Retriever), Clint somehow managed to bypass the killer cockroaches and grab the vile (let’s all be real here tho, he definitely used the vents).

So with a final ‘Sayonara Fuckers,’ you left the building with a bang...like a literal bang. You (hopefully) managed to kill that infestation with the amount of C4 that you guys placed in the building. 

If not, it seems more like a Nicky problem.

Once everyone boarded the Quinjet, a symphony of groans and grunts filled the silence. Everyone seemed very happy to be on-route back to the Tower. 

“What did we even endure that torture for?” Pietro questioned, looking at Natasha and Clint. 

This seemed to spark some sort of curiosity from everyone, and everyone locked their eyes onto both the super-spies...well everyone beside Tony, who was too engrossed by something on his phone to care.  

“Don’t look at me! I’m just a dude with a bow and arrow.” 

“You’re still a super-spy!” You argued. 

“Potato, potahto.” You rolled your eyes. How was this guy one of the top agents at SHIELD?

“Triple Imposter, got anything to share?” Tony, everyone’s favourite billionaire, decided to discard his phone and join the conversation; must’ve been one worth having. 

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” 

Everyone rolled their eyes at that. Of course she wouldn’t. 

“Take it from me, my friends, it is better to leave the unknown untouched.” 

Speaking of things that should be left untouched; your eyes drifted to the form separated from the rest. Loki: your secret crush. 

You had been crushing on the raven-haired god for a while now, and found him incredibly distracting during missions because of it. Like the way he moved so gracefully while slicing into the enemy was just...indescribable.

Okay, okay, you could describe it: it was hot. Like burning molten lava hot. 

But it wasn’t just his hotness; the longer you got to know him, the sweeter he became. It was subtle things: like how he remembered how you took your coffee, or how you could both talk for hours about the newest books you were reading. 

You could feel a smile forming on your face just thinking about it, and scowled. That was why you needed to quench these feelings, and fast. If anyone on the team (god forbid Nat) found out about these feelings, you would never hear the end of it. 

That was why you decided that it was better to wait for the feelings to pass; no matter how much you longed for your fantasies to become reality. It would take time--an obnoxious amount at that--but they would eventually fade. 

“What’s got you looking both happy and sad, N/n?” Nat asked. If there was one thing the assassin was great at, it was reading Y/n...and knowing if she was lying. 

So everyone could understand her utter disbelief when you answer, “A multitude of things really. Specifically, the fact that I’ll never be able to love without fear of having it jeopardised by a variety of factors.” 

You clamped your hand over your mouth as everyone shifted their eyes onto you. You did not intend to be truthful. Why would you be truthful? Inner turmoil isn’t meant to be shared. It’s inner for a reason!

“I-” Nat stumbled. “I did not expect you answer that truthfully.” 

“It’s not like I wanted to! I don’t like talking about feelings...like ew!” You shivered. Feelings are scary...

Suddenly, Thor’s laughter filled the room. “I don’t understand why my inner turmoil is so amusing, Poptarts!” 

“Forgive me, Y/n. I did not intend to mock your feelings. I am merely amused by Loki. He just admitted that he-” A hand was quickly placed over his mouth before he could continue. 

“It would be wise to keep your mouth shut, Brother.” Thor nodded his head and complied, but the smirk that lingered on his face spoke a thousand words. 

“What’s next? Bruce is going to suddenly declare his love for Nat?” Tony mumbled. 

The Scientist and Assassin were wide-eyed. “I-What?” Bruce spluttered. 

“Did not mean to say that.” Tony sheepishly smiled. 

“Something is clearly going on guys.” You spoke, a few murmured in agreement.

“It’s gotta be coming from that vile.” 

Tony smirked, “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” And with that, Tony proceeded to smash the vile on the ground. The glass shattering, and releasing whatever gas was in that vile. 

“Why would you do that?” Pietro screamed, “You might’ve killed us all!” 

“Relax, Speedy Gonzales, it’s gotta be some sort of truth serum...and I want to know all of your secrets.”

Ever since Tony has unleashed whatever was inside that vile, everyone seemed to separate themselves from the others. Who would want to willingly reveal the multitude of secrets they had? You sure had a few to keep. 

You decided to head to the back of the ship, and continued to stare at the floor. You couldn’t fathom the possibility of accidentally slipping up and revealing your crush on the mischievous god. 

Only the universe knows what sort of shit show that would bring. 

You were brought out of your thoughts by the very man who occupied your mind, sitting next you. You shifted your gaze upwards to meet his, and instantly paled. This was not going to go well.

“I couldn’t stand being on my own for any longer. I hope you don’t mind...” He trailed off. 

You shook your head; too afraid to open your lips incase words just decided to spill out. He smiled, noticing her sheepishness. 

God you loved that smile...

“I love your smile too, Y/n.” Your cheeks turned crimson. 

“Stupid truth serum.” Loki laughed. 

Guess you could somewhat tolerate this truth serum if you got to hear that sound.

“Odin’s beard, you two should just confess that you fancy each other!” Thor shouted from the front of the ship. 

Tony smirked, “It would ease the sexual tension.” 

Wanda gasped and whacked the back of Tony’s head. “There is a child on board.” She proceeded to clamp her hands over Peter’s ears. 

He huffed, “I’m almost eighteen, Miss Wanda.” 

“But seriously, you guys just need to bump uglies. Get it out of the system.” Tony ignored Wanda’s threatening glare. 

Both you and Loki remained silent; still too scared that the serum will reveal your biggest secret: that you wouldn’t mind if you did. 

“It’s not that hard, guys. Just start by admitting that you like each other.” Nat smirked, catching onto why you were being so quiet. You glared at her. 

But, it seems like both you and Loki had a need to correct their words, as you both ended up simultaneously blurting out:

“But I don’t like him, I love him!”

“But I don’t like her, I love her!”

Everyone on the quinjet snickered. They knew this was coming. However, your eyes widened, as did Loki’s. This was not how you wanted this to go. 

“FUCKING TRUTH SERUM!”

Hope you enjoyed some random shit my brain concocted :)

Find my masterlist here!

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki friggason x reader #mcu #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tom hiddleston character #tom hiddleston #mcu loki #marvel loki #loki layfeyson imagine #loki imagine #loki oneshot

[acciotherapists]

Far From Home (Chapter 42: Hydra)

Loki x Reader

Y/n Y/l/n never thought her past would come back to find her. After all who would look for her on Midgard? But one day in the small town of Puento Antiguo her world is turned upside down when an old friend turns up, threatening everything she has built and the people she’d fought so hard to protect. What happens when the life she left behind finally catches up with her? What happens when the old flame she thought had burned out reignites within her?

Warnings: language (sorry, Steve), eventual smut (slow burn), angst, some mentions of torture (most things won’t be detailed but anything that gets a bit more specific will be warned at the beginning of the chapter)

As we reached the tower Loki was waiting for us on the roof and I ran to him the moment my feet touched the roof. I threw my arms around him and basked in the warmth his body provided as he shielded me from the concerned stares of the team. No one knew what to think and I couldn’t blame them for neither did I.

“I missed you, darling,” Loki murmured into my hair as the rest of the team stepped off the quinjet.

“I missed you too, Loki.”

“Debriefing in ten minutes, Agent Y/l/n,” Tony hissed and I felt my heart starting to race again. “Alone,” he added, glaring at Loki.

“What was that about?” Loki asked.

“Nothing… I- I made a mistake on the mission and I think he’s pretty pissed about it.”

He kissed my forehead before leading us to the elevator, promising everything would be fine. If only I could believe him.

****

You could practically cut the tension in the room with a knife as the team sat down and waited for Tony to speak.

“You want to tell me what the hell happened out there?”

“We were drawing too much civilian attention so we left the coffee shop.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” Tony snapped. “You choked out there! You were supposed to deny that you remembered anything and lead him back to a secluded area, use the tranquilizer and be done with it. You failed us out there!”

“I’m sorry,” I answered, looking away from him. Tony sighed, dragging a hand over his face. 

“What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice much softer now. “You could’ve been killed… or captured again, Y/n.”

“I just needed to talk to him.”

“You have to understand how dangerous that was, kid.”

“You do realize I’m over a thousand years older than you right?”

He chuckled. “Doesn’t matter. You’re family now.”

I could feel tears forming behind my eyes and I fought to keep them down as Tony continued. 

“We have another opening; however everyone on the team needs to be on board with this. It must be unanimous given the danger it may possess for… select individuals,” he says, looking at me carefully before handing us each a file.

“Barnes is being held at this training facility and is set to be moved in two days.”

I looked down at the file in front of me, finding the schematics of a familiar looking base as Tony continued.

“I have reason to believe they are holding other powered individuals there.”

“Most likely,” I answered, remembering the days Bucky and I had spent recovering there.

“You recognize this place?” Tony asked and I nodded.

“Bucky and I spent a lot of time here… it was sort of like our home.”

“Your home?” Steve asked.

“The only one we had… apart from each other.”

“Careful, Y/n,” Nat warned. “Don’t let your feelings cloud your judgment. This isn’t some reunion with an old friend. This is a Hydra soldier who has a serious rap sheet.”

“So am I, Nat!” I exclaimed. “Yet, you seem to trust me just fine. Bucky protected us when Hydra showed up today! He told us to run while he stayed and dealt with Hydra! He could’ve let them take us and call it a completed mission.”

“She has a point, Nat,” Steve said as she glared at him.

“What’s the mission, Tony?”

The team turned to me, each one of them deciding what to say and I knew it wouldn’t be good.

“Hydra is looking for you, kid… That much is clear. This place is a fortress and there’s no way in or out without a massacre. The only way in would be…” Tony trailed off, looking around the room but no one met his eyes. “Y/n, I need to make this absolutely clear… no one on the team agrees with this idea and we would all understand if you said no.”

“Tony, just tell me.”

“We would need you to hand yourself over to Hydra.”

****

Taglist:

@purplekitten30 @lokisprettygirl22 @midnights-ramblings @huntress-artemiss @lokis-little-love @lokis-tigress @the-archangel-in-asgard @crimson25 @thedistractedagglomeration

#loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x reader #loki #the avengers x reader #the avengers #loki x y/n #loki x yn #lokixreader #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #mcu loki

[daydreamerdrew]

Comics read this past week:

Marvel Comics:

Black Widow: The Coldest War (1990)

This 62-page graphic novel was published in April 1990, according to the Marvel Wiki, and was written by Gerry Conway, penciled by George Freeman, and inked by Mark Farmer, George Freeman, Mark Harris, Val Mayerik, Joe Rubinstein, and Ernie Colón.

The majority of this story took place in 1987, during the Cold War, with the epilogue taking place in 1990 when one of the villains of the main story, who has since become a politician, contacts Natasha with an offer for her to perform in Russia as a ballerina. She tells Nick Fury, “He says they want me to come home, Nick.” He reminds her that the Cold War is over and she’s free to do what she wants and she say, “I know, Nick. We’re all free now… And it’s glorious.”

Fury/Black Widow: Death Duty (1995) #1

This 64-page one-shot was published in February 1995, according to the Marvel Wiki, and was written by Cefn Ridout and drawn by Charlie Adlard.

This story actually had Natasha going back to Russia after the end of the Cold War in her capacity as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She’s supposed to be working with the police there, but the relationship is strained. Apparently the U.S. government threatened to withhold I.M.F. loans if they didn’t accept her help with the case. Meanwhile, Natasha suspects that the police has been paid off by the mafia and investigates behind their backs, which the main person she’s supposed to be working with, Colonel Yuri, accuses her of. In the end it was another person that was working with Yuri that had been paid off and Yuri dies shielding Natasha from gunfire, proving his virtuousness.

At the end of the story Natasha tells Nick Fury, “The new Russia’s not what I expected. I left because the system was destroying the country. Now, the system’s gone, I’m not sure it’s for the best- I’m still a stranger, here.” He tells her, “Give it time, ‘Tash. At least you’ve got a choice.”

Captain America (2005) #26-27

With these Captain America issues I went from May 2007 to June 2007, according to the Marvel Wiki. They were written by Ed Brubaker, penciled by Steve Epting, and inked by Mike Perkins. Both were 22 pages.

I’m really enjoying where this book is going. When Sharon had previously talking about her job in issue #22 (as she was being mentally warped by Dr. Faustus), she stressed how important it was to her and specifically that it ordinarily wouldn’t be more important to her than Steve. In issue #26 she explains her reason for quitting as, “What’s the point, anyway… without Steve?” In issue #27 she tries to kill herself, thinking, “You don’t deserve to live now, and you know it,” referring to how Dr. Faustus made her kill Steve. But Dr. Faustus has made it impossible for her to kill herself or to tell anyone what she did. By the end of the issue she’s started working with Sam under Nick Fury’s direction and I’m really curious as to where that’s going to go, if that’s something that Dr. Faustus is pushing her to do and so she’s going to secretly working against them or if she’s going to try to communicate with them that she killed Steve indirectly and be able to foil whatever Dr. Faustus and the Red Skull’s plans with her are.

I’m also liking what’s happening with Bucky. In issue #26 Nick Fury calls Sam to intervene with Bucky and he gets there just as Bucky is finishing up a bar fight, which he instigated because someone there insulted Steve. I like that Nick Fury was apparently keeping an eye on Bucky. But at the end of the issue Bucky decides that he going to kill Tony Stark, which puts him on the opposing side of Nick. I really love this, even though I don’t have any animosity towards Tony myself, because I’m enjoying how intense Bucky is getting as he commits to this plan.

And issue #27 is when it was first established that Bucky and Natasha Romanoff have a history. Natasha was tasked with protecting Steve’s shield which Bucky wanted to steal to make sure no one else can use it because he doesn’t think anyone else is worthy. As they fight Bucky thinks, “By the time I see my move, I’m actually wishing this was one of Karpov’s missions… And that those damned machines would be waiting when I finished… to wipe my memories away again.” It’s revealed that Bucky actually helped train Natasha. Flashbacks depict the two of them secretly meeting up together, getting caught, and then Natasha breaking into where Bucky was held afterwards and horrifyingly finding him frozen. I’m expecting that we are getting to get more information about these revealing but contextless moments in the upcoming issues.

Black Widow (2004) #1-6

These issues were published across October 2004 to February 2005, according to the Marvel Wiki. They were written by Richard K. Morgan and drawn by Bill Sienkiewicz, with Goran Parlov drawing the layouts for all but issue #1. Issues #1-2 and #6 were 22 pages and issues #3-5 were 23 pages.

This was the book that first established that Natasha was raised in the Red Room and wasn’t just trained there as an adult, retconning her previous backstory, including being trained as a ballerina at the Bolshoi, as part of their mental conditioning. Things fall apart pretty quickly once she gets to Russia in issue #5. She goes to the Bolshoi to see her old teacher, only to be told that no one with that name has ever worked there. She’s able to figure out where she was actually trained by recognizing a sign she had seen out a window in her youth and when inside finds the remains of the room where she was brainwashed, which triggers flashbacks, as well as someone who had played a part in that process and is able to explain most everything to her. It’s explained that part of the conditioning is that Natasha becomes sick if she tries to think logically about her memories. Even so, I disliked how simple it was to point out the falsity, with just the question, “Well, if you were a Bolshoi ballerina, for one thing, your feet would be horribly maimed from all the dancing on blocks. They’re not though, are they?” It’s hard to me to accept that no one ever noticed that before, or that there wasn’t any record of Natasha training at the Bolshoi, or that Natasha apparently didn’t train as a ballerina at all and so wouldn’t know how to dance at a professional level as an adult. It’s also not at all addressed what this means for the non-Bolshoi parts of Natasha’s backstory, like Ivan Petrovitch, who was previously portrayed as someone who saved Natasha’s life when she was a baby and then become a father figure to her and was featured prominently as a loyal ally of Natasha’s in both of the 90s Black Widow stories I read this week, and her husband Alexei Shostokoff, who’s “death” motivated her to become a spy in the first place as an adult and then who’s real death cemented her defection to the United States.

When Natasha brings up Yelena Belova she’s told, “Oh- her. Oh my goodness, no. Belova was a, an aberration. Nothing to do with the real Black Widow program. I believe she models fetish lingerie these days.” I was shocked and upset by this flippant dismissal of Yelena’s entire character. The Red Room was first mentioned when Natasha and Yelena first met in Black Widow (1999) #1 and Yelena says, “I am a student from the Red Room in Moscow. You remember it, then? Yes, I thought you would. And yes, it is still active.” And then, “It is you who will call me Black Widow. That’s right. I am the first student in the history of the Red Room to surpass your marks.” When we last left Yelena off in Black Widow: Pale Little Spider (2002) she was being manipulated by her superiors to get over her concern that she wasn’t on Natasha’s level and so wasn’t the true Black Widow, which she’d been intensely arguing she was in Black Widow (1999) and Black Widow (2001). The closing line of Pale Little Spider in issue #3, in response to that statement that if Yelena ever found out about their manipulations that she would betray them, was that they could always make another Black Widow. That she’s supposed to just be a fetish lingerie model now was particularly inappropriate to me considering that Yelena has been established to be really uncomfortable with sex, but even regardless of that I would think that this is a sexist way to write off a character that had previously only been portrayed as, while inexperienced, a dedicated and competent agent and had a really interesting dynamic with Natasha.

This book actually tried very hard to say something poignant about sexism. There’s a scene in issue #1 where Natasha talks to Phil Dexter about how most women face a lack of options between being a “pole dancer or a hard-faced harridan,” which, she says, “Is Madonna or whore. It’s just the Madonna got promoted- on condition she’s twice as tough and twice as smart as any man she’s dealing with.” When Phil asks if she’s that woman, Natasha says, “Let’s hope so.” I think that this would read a lot stronger if it was connected to specific events, even if they were just invented for the sake of this story, that are specific to Natasha’s character. I’m referring to facing sexist limitations that genuinely impeded her when she was younger in Russia or within the superhero field or at S.H.I.E.L.D. Because Natasha is meant to be this legendary supremely competent super-spy, though in this book she is repeatedly dismissed as just a woman. As it is, I don’t understand Natasha’s lack of certainty in herself at this point. I don’t understand how she would think other people’s expectations of women would limit her or why she would be concerned that she’s not tough or smart enough. If anything, I would think, while annoying, being underestimated would be helpful.

While that conversation was happening, Natasha and Phil ignore a young woman trying to hitchhike on the highway. Later Natasha saves that young woman from being raped from the truckers who did pick her up, killing one of the men and paralyzing the other in the process. The young woman, Sally Anne, ends up tagging along for the rest of the book and we learn that she was running away from home because her stepfather became “overly friendly” and her mother stood by and did nothing to stop him. In issue #3 Sally Anne says that she thinks all men are scum and Natasha agrees with her because in that specific moment she’s frustrated with Phil and because she just got done interrogating a man with truth serum, during which, besides the information that she needed, she also prompted him into confessing to having an affair with a 17-year-old in front of his wife. When that man later comes falling out a window it’s unknown if he chose to jump, but Natasha says, “Personally, I’d like to think he was pushed.” I was actually surprised that there wasn’t more resistance to the expressed man-hating sentiments, like, say, Natasha later taking back her agreement that all men are scum. Phil and Sally Anne form a positive relationship over time, but that’s inherently complicated. Regarding them intervening when Sally Anne was going to be raped, Phil says, which is contrasted against how Sally Anne’s own mother didn’t help her, “Ah, well, ahem, I wasn’t going to just stand by and just watch, was I?” But we, the audience, know that he was going to just stand by, that he tried to convince Natasha not to do anything, and that he was upset with her for it afterwards.

In issue #3, when Natasha and Sally Anne both recognize the name of a cosmetics company and Phil hasn’t heard of them, Sally Anne says, “Of course you haven’t- you’re a guy.” This prompts Natasha to go on a monologue about how men aren’t pressured to care about their looks, that she’s not interested in cosmetics, that she spends her money on things like books and rock climbing gear, but the last present she was given was perfume because, “I’m a woman, and that’s what women are supposed to value above all else. Cosmetic appearance.” This was weird to me. She’s clearly drawn wearing bright red lipstick throughout the entire book, which is not to mention the matching pair of lingerie-like black lacy panties and bra she apparently casually wears under her clothes all the time. Natasha not convincingly portrayed as as someone who does not spend time (and money) on her cosmetic appearance. I'm not sure if she was meant to just care about women being defined by their physical appearances for herself or for it to be a broader political opinion. Natasha cares about Sally Anne throughout the book, in issue #4 it's implied she's worried about Sally Anne becoming a prostitute, but also in issue #1 Natasha opens a phone call with Phil with, “You’re answering your own phone. What happened to the latest blonde? Silicon leak?”

In issue #2 there’s a scene where Natasha and Phil talk and Phil stays fully clothed but Natasha gets undressed to change outfits. This gives us two pages where the main adult characters have a serious conversation but one of them, the woman, is just wearing lacy underwear. In issue #3 Natasha does actually wear very little with a purpose, in order to seduce a man to get information she needs from him. In her description of him she says that he has “impeccable alpha male credentials” and that his weakness is the usual one. She complains internally, “Heels you can barely walk in, let alone run. Skin exposed all over, regardless of weather. A look that says ‘take me I’m yours.’ Dressed to be killed, more like.” She ties the man up in his bed, seemingly as preparation for them to have sex, but then she doses him with a truth serum and a hallucinogen that makes cry out for his mommy. When she’s gotten what she needs she leaves him tied up there, assuming that it, “Won’t do his reputation any harm when they find him like this. Never does if you’re a guy.” This feels like it’s trying to have it both ways, featuring the character in a sexy framing while also criticizing the difference between standards of men and women’s appearances and sexual activity at the same time, which is a bit discordant and doesn’t come across as properly specific to this character. I do think that there's something interesting that could be done with the tactics Natasha is pushed toward, either by other people or just by the effectiveness of them, as a female spy and how she feels about that, but this wasn't it. And I’m actually confused by how personal that frustration is about women being judged for having sex while men aren’t because I don't know what personal experiences Natasha has had with that in her life. Like the uncertainty that Natasha would be able to overcome sexist stereotypes in issue #1 and the monologue about cosmetics in issue #3, this was a generic sentiment about sexism that didn't convincingly fit with the character. Women aren't a monolith, different women have difference experiences and think about sexism differently so any negative sentiment about sexism from a female character isn't inherently believable just because they're a woman, it needs some kind of support.

I was bothered by a scene in issue #6 where Natasha does what she did to the man she seduced in issue #3 again to two women. The one woman that’s in one of the groups hunting Natasha is hinted to be a lesbian and to be interested in a specific waitress throughout the book and in issue #6 she returns to her motel room to find that waitress in her underwear, bound, and gagged with Natasha pointing a gun at her. With the civilian waitress as leverage Natasha is able to get information from the woman that was working against her, and then offscreen Natasha also takes off her clothes and ties her up in her underwear. This is known because a lesbian bondage scandal where the two women were found and photographed and those photographs are published in a tabloid magazine is mentioned later. Natasha complaining about the different standards levied against men and women and then taking advantage of that as part of a revenge plot, and including in it a woman who hadn’t done anything to her, was a really strange choice.

The part of this new vision of Natasha Romanoff that I thought was handled worst was the invention of a pheromone control of the Black Widow agents in issue #6. The reason for its creation was that conservative men within the Soviet Union were upset by the idea of a “genuinely powerful young woman as an active independent agent.” And so, “Black Widow operatives would be incapable of committing violence, or even extensive disobedience, against anyone wearing the scent. To try would be like attempting to harm someone you cared deeply about, like murdering a loved one.” What makes this so terrible is that it’s revealed that Nick Fury stole that scent and used it to make Natasha defect to the United States in the first place and is still using it to manipulate her after all this time. This ruins their previous relationship and takes away Natasha’s agency not just in the stories involving both of them, but really in all of her stories since she became a hero in the 60s because it’s saying that she hasn’t actually been motivated by her own beliefs like we previously thought. The final fight of the book is Natasha against a man wearing that scent and during that Natasha’s internal narration describes, “It’s all I can do to shield myself against his blows. I feel slow, stupid. I start to understand how it must feel to be a battered wife. I taste blood… Anger and will, pride and self, the reflex of aggression- all wither away inside me. I just want him to stop.” It stands out that pheromone control is described as like an emotional control, where fighting back or being disobedient are emotionally unbearable, rather than the more traditional total mind control where it’s more of someone else simply inserting their will, and then that the experience of it being used against Natasha is explicitly compared to women in abusive relationships. It’s a very feminized version of being a mind-controlled spy.

Fawcett Comics:

the Captain Marvel stories in Whiz Comics (1940) #77-78 and Captain Marvel Adventures (1941) #64-65 and The Marvel Family (1945) #4

In this batch of 12 Captain Marvel stories I went from August 1946 to September 1946. These stories ranged from 7 to 11 pages.

The story “Captain Marvel and the Little Man Who Wasn’t There” (written by Bill Woolfolk; drawn by C.C. Beck) in Captain Marvel Adventures #64 was based around an imp named Lester. At the beginning of the story Captain Marvel saves a man who was attempting suicide and that man explains that Lester is an invisible being that can only be seen by whoever last drank from a bottle of enchanted water. Captain Marvel takes a drink from the bottle to prove to the man that Lester isn’t real while the man tries stop him, saying, “There’s only one or two swallows left! You’ll be doomed to stay with Lester all your life if you drink that!” But then he quickly has a change of heart, cheerfully running away and shouting out, “Hurray! Lester is gone! I’m a free man!” Captain Marvel comments, “It’s wonderful what a little suggestion can do,” but then he does actually see Lester himself. Throughout the story Lester creates problems for Captain Marvel and for Billy Batson, which culminates in Captain Marvel getting arrested. Then Sterling Morris pays for Captain Marvel’s bail and takes him to see a psychiatrist. Captain Marvel explains the situation and shows the psychiatrist the bottle, saying, “One swallow, and you’d see Lester too! But you can’t swallow because there isn’t any left!” But the psychiatrist says, “Wrong! There’s a drop or two in the bottle!” And before Captain Marvel can stop him he’s taken the final swallow. Lester disappears from Captain Marvel’s sight right at the moment, but he realizes, “But you must see him now! Poor man! This is all my fault!” The psychiatrist corrects him, saying, “I don’t see anyone at all! Neither do you, now! Just a simple trick of mental suggestion cured you!” Captain Marvel runs off gleefully, just as the man at the beginning of the story did, but once he’s gone it’s revealed that the psychiatrist can, in fact, see Lester. He says, “I’ll have to pretend I don’t see him! Or my patients will think I’m crazy!” And the story ends with Billy’s radio show conclusion where he thinks that it’s all been wrapped up, not knowing that that psychiatrist has been doomed to be pranked by an imp only he can see for the rest of his life.

#comics read this past week #my posts

[jamesbi-canonbarnes]

Actually what was the purpose of making him spread his legs like that just to be able to fit the shield between them 🤔

#stucky #the falcon and the winter soldier #stevebucky #tfatws #bucky barnes #like his mark could have been back a half step and he could’ve closed his legs I’m?? #if the shield is specifically what he has left of Steve don’t think about #that’s how he’d look sitting on Steve’s lap #don’t think about it at all it’s ok #I tried to resist posting this I’ve been thinking about it for days now bc I’m always looking for art references and the reference just #popped out #bc of the association like I didn’t choose that association y’all did #yeah I just keep thinking about this shot but for no reason none at all. #mine

[heli0s-writes]

II. Silverline

Summary: And suddenly, it feels like he’s watching himself from the corner of the room. Like he’s floating overhead and he can see the past and present and future and the impending sense of doom that is always hovering over this truly fucked affair. Steve knows this can’t happen again. It’s got to be the last time—it does.

Warnings: Rough sex, Steve marinating in his many feelings, language, etc.

A/n: I’m a whole year late but here it is. We’re working up to some Sad Hours but until then, look at that, more angry sex. 3.2k words. Thanks for reading and waiting and sorry!

A History of Touch Masterpost

Most people don’t give Steve enough credit. They take one look at him—all big and blonde—and they forget: Captain America may be a steel bruiser on the outside but he’s wicked smart, too.

He’s a master tactician, priding himself on the ability to fluently run point. He knows all the entrances and exits, where to duck in a firefight, where to move all the chess pieces down to the millimeter— the split atom second. He knows the plays, runs them like nothing in his head.

Granted, this only works when the pieces follow directions, and he’s got one shitty rook that won’t stop fucking up his day.

“Great,” he mutters between clenched teeth when his aforementioned shitty rook dead-legs the target.

William Sanderson crashes into the nearest blackjack table and looks like he hit his head on the way down. Steve’s suit begins feeling too tight with the way his chest burns.

What is it about undercover do you not understand?

“Uh-oh, Cap. You wanna get that or should I?” Sam crackles in his ear. “Nevermind, you know what? Sit tight, because if you go in, I’m not sure who you’re gonna take out.”

Steve shoots his gaze back to the table where the target’s gone.

He’s a fraction flustered before he goes back to restrained and spots Sanderson next to the door, fumbling for the handle, walking crooked.

“Hey—” you whisper through the commlink, “Four minutes down the hall and window’s closing. Make it snappy, Cappy.”

Steve pencils in snapping you into eighteen pieces when he gets back to the tower, but after he scales window and gets all the intel he needed and some, he briefly thinks at least the rook knocked out a piece on the other side—no matter how sloppily.

-

Apparently, fudging command even though you shaved off about five more hours of inhaling second-hand cigar smoke still isn’t recognized as a completely legitimate way to end a mission. Sanderson was supposed to be tailed, not concussed. He was supposed to be intimidated into revealing coordinates afterwards, not hung by his necktie over the disabled restroom stall.

Fury reamed you out on speakerphone and gave Steve specific instructions to make your night hell. And boy, did he find pure, unadulterated joy in dishing out that order.

Of course he did. He’s gotten way worse lately.

You stare at the pile before your feet: the team’s entire arsenal and a heap of microfiber rags. Sam’s wings; Natasha’s batons; one terrifying spool of grade-A-will-fuck-you-up-choke-out wire caked in blood; a mountain of semi-automatics because one particular teammate with no hobbies and a metal arm has approximately seventy of them.

Groaning, you begin work on a certain other weapon. Your shorts are rolled up high on your thighs, the hem of a worn sleeping shirt pulled up and bunched at your waist, smeared with gun oil and grease.

The steel wool in your hand slips under your weight before you can catch it.

“Guh!”

Your palm slides off Steve’s shield, elbow landing on a just-polished white stripe, funny bone knocked into and your entire left side feels like someone shut it off. You slump over it defeatedly, cursing out the sadistic superior who charged you to this slow death in the first place.

Between the wooly TV static eating through your fingertips and the blind frustration, you don’t notice his figure in the doorway.

“Missed a spot,” he says, having watched long enough to know exactly where you missed a spot. You jump when the toe of his shoe taps your thigh beneath the stitching of your shorts, inappropriately close to your ass.

“What do you want?” A weak swat at him behind your back, “Got another thing for me to do tonight?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You twist around, still prone on all fours, cautious. “What?”

“Yeah, I do,” he says again, like you’re stupid.

Steve repeats the same motion with his shoe except this time, on the inside of your thighs, wedging them apart. The sole leaves granules of dirt between your legs, material catching your skin with its rubber teeth.

You glare, but gradually opening how he wants, goosebumps starting to crawl up your back.

“Right here in the weapons room?”

“What, you prefer it in your room?” He already knows of course you don’t; you’d never desecrate your sleeping space with the bulk of him, same as he’d never with you.

It’s always the couch, the carpet, the dining table. A rental car, once, swerving home from Massachusetts after hitting an old Hydra den, the both of you snarling at each other before Steve peeled off into an abandoned parking lot and pushed his seat back as far as it could go. All the words he wanted to scream disappeared, sated by the way you worked yourself over the gear shift and on top of him, cursing at him, then soon enough cursing through a few whimpers.

He’s got no tactics when it comes to you. No game plan other than when his dick’s up and needs a tight grip. It’s up tonight, needy and throbbing, an itch to be scratched, an anger to be soothed.

“You know what your problem is, Rogers? Everything’s gotta be just perfect. You should try being useless sometimes. Unclench your painfully tight ass and take the day how it comes.”

“Like you?” A huff of air, “Free concussions for everybody.” He leans forward, knee coming down slow until his shin is on the small of your back.

“Exactly.”

Steve places his palm between your tensed shoulder blades. A thrust from his hand and your knees give, chest landing down on his shield, face shoved into carpet. He finds the waistband of your shorts, tucks his fingers inside the elastic of your underwear, and tugs them both until they pool at your calves.

His other fingers go inside his cheek, licked slippery with ease. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Admit you’re charmed, Rogers. I’ll keep your secret.” You’ve put your face in the crook of your elbow, both arms folded together into a makeshift pillow. You laugh cheerlessly, hide your eyes because he knows it’s much too close to a conversation he’s not ready to have.

It’s one of his worse secret to keep—you and him and the transgression past professionalism, past contentious co-workers. Way past the one night and an ill-tempered mistake all those weeks ago. How did it happen again? Why? Other than that it feels good, hurts good— uncomplicated, in a way.

That’s all Steve wants. Un-fucking-complicated or as close to it as he can get. Wet. Warm. Nothing he’s committed to sustaining other than rhythm, and he’ll stop investigating the foxholes of how and why there.

His middle finger plunges to the knuckle and he swallows thickly at the sight. Two slow rubs and you’re jerking back, arching for more. He takes his time with it, feeling hot flesh, soft ridges of muscle sucking his finger in, your knees inching toward each other and thighs squeezed tight.

He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans with the kind of deft speed only someone who’s been doing this habitually would know. Just a flick of a thumb, a yank at a belt loop and he slides to the hilt home.

“Oh, fuck you.” You back curves, shoulders rolling out tension.

“Right,” he responds, one hand on the back of your neck, moving your head away and straightening you out because at this point he knows what angle he wants. You go ragdoll limp—tired, easy, pliant. Liquid fire around him.

He says calmly, “Take it how I give it to you,” and realizes it comes out more like a growl. Makes himself frown.

He doesn’t even sound like himself. His voice. His breath. The sound his body makes meeting yours. It all rushes out in a torrent. Filthy, dirty promises and threats of what he’ll do to you if you keep pissing him off. But he’s not lying.

He watches your throat constrict inside his hand, pulsing a slow breath upward into your mouth. He doesn’t know what he feels next, the line of appropriate retaliation smudged now so severely that punishment and reward seem nearly the same.

He’s holding tighter now, same as he always does when he’s close. Starts handling you thoughtlessly, only wanting one simple thing. Uncomplicated. Silence. An orgasm so his brain can stop spinning so fast and so angry.

He is getting too reckless. Right here in the weapons room? If someone walks by— he shudders out a gasp. If someone walks by like this— sees him, sees you, sees that face you make when he takes you apart—the way your mouth opens like you’d whimper or yell, but sated—blissed out, wrecked to speechlessness, sex drunk on him.

Oh. You’d be so embarrassed and guilty and he could just… reach out and grab your chin, turn your head until you were facing them and you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. He’d keep fucking you through it, keep crashing into you, slamming and slamming and the thought of all that, of how helpless and turned on you’d be right on the edge of it, how you’d want to make yourself stop feeling so good, so fucked out, but that you wouldn’t be able to for even a second—you wouldn’t be able to stop anything.

And it’s that, isn’t it, that keeps him going back to this. That finally, finally, after all the damn headaches you’ve given him, despite his best efforts to be apathetic and unaffected around you, this is how he’ll give it back. Fucking karmic—perfect. You can piss him off all you want, you’ll still take off your clothes for him, still let him screw you senseless, leave you quivering wherever he chooses leaves you.

“I’m gonna come,” he grunts, hand big and around your throat. “Goddammit.”

He feels it burrowing— so close—with the returned throb in the apex of his chest. You’re writhing, grabbing for a tether, sweating on his shield, the side of your face pushed against red and white, hair reflecting in silver. Pretty and compliant and easy.

Everything pulses for a second into white. The sight of the room, the arsenal of weapons, your fingers digging into the floor—it’s all there, but he can’t register it. There’s only the ache in his muscles from tensing up for so long, pushed along further and further by the raw desire to get his hands in you and unravel you.

It’s only a split second that stretches into eternity. He loves this part:

The tautness of your cunt suctioning around his cock. The way the stretch of skin looks— smudged with arousal, leaving streaks so pretty all over him. Sometimes he jerks himself off like that, fingers around the inches he pulls out of you while letting his head throb inside, rolling his hips just only just, watching you squirm and beg and shimmy for more. Pushing your tits together with your hands, opening your mouth for his fingers—for anything.

Steve pulls out, gets his fist around himself, and pumps long, sticky lines onto the small of your back, spilling hot and wet and raspy-pleased.

“Look at what you—nnngh—made me do.” His hand is still stroking as he grits his teeth then pulls his lip between them until it hurts. He squeezes the final drop out, watching it smear over your skin and mix into a sheen of sweat.

And then, eternity passes.

It’s just the weapons room again. It’s just you, overheated and panting atop his shield, splayed over the concentric circles and stars and battered in gun oil and come, trying to keep your legs from shaking, keep your eyes from instinctively finding his.

There’s no more fantasy of being walked in on, no more uncontrollable desire for stimulation, no more ache to fuck.

And suddenly, it feels like he’s watching himself from the corner of the room. Like he’s floating overhead and he can see the past and present and future and the impending sense of doom that is always hovering over this truly fucked affair.

Steve knows this can’t happen again. It’s got to be the last time—it does.

He breathes in, shame taking residence in his chest.

“Fuck,” Steve says, frustrated. Even though you’re the one sprawled out on the shield, wrecked, dazed, curved over it like you’re protecting something sacred. “Fuck,” he says again, helpless this time. “Look what you made me fucking do.”

-

“Why’re you so keen on pushing him?” Bucky asks later, around the same time you’re still thinking about Steve going look what you made me do, with equal measures of pride and remorse.

Poor Bucky’s patient as ever, a serenely placid lake even as he’s caught between two storms. He takes it well enough most days, letting the fumes of thunderous arguments and bared teeth roll off his back, flapping his hand amiably saying, alright, time-out for the both of you. Go on, kids, get.

You rub your eyes and yawn, shifting until the dull throb between your legs settles. Finding no better answer than the shortest one.

“He deserves it.”

“Really.” Bucky blinks, unfazed. “Deserves you being a gigantic pain in his keister?”

“He’s a gigantic pain in mine.”

“How old are you again?”

You pout, then scrub at your hairline in exasperation.

It was meant to be good simple fun. Good Boy Cap was a national treasure, saved the world twice over and you were just a bright-eyed recruit finding yourself perplexed at why your childhood hero couldn’t bother to spare a real laugh or a smile—like he’d only partially thawed.

You wanted to tease the stiff, get his panties in a knot a little, watch him crack a smile—but he never did. So you stubbornly kept going until it became both habit and spite.

It’s not like you had a plan or ever thought that once you got to the top of Mt. Capsicle, he’d bend you over and ride you all the way down. Or that you expected how when he’s railing you that sometimes he does crack open— just a little— and you get to see the thing you wanted in the first place. For a few seconds he stops wearing that awful veneer and shows you his teeth—that ugly, human side he pretends he doesn’t have.

And for those few seconds when he splits into his barest parts, you feel fond of him.

Your chest hurts a little, and you chalk it up to being slammed down into the shield earlier, the pristine star some kind of ironic symbol sent from god as you bounced on it.

“Sweetheart, listen,” you urge sarcastically, “and keep up.”

Bucky leans his jawline into his fist, rolling his eyes. “Sure.”

“You ever buy a phone charger somewhere and at first, it seems legit? Looks just like your factory-made one with the logo and all. So, you buy it, you plug it in and there’s obviously something wrong with it. It doesn’t charge as fast; you have to wiggle the cord once in a while, and it’s well enough to where you don’t mind much— a perfectly serviceable item— but you just wish it said so in the first place.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, head slightly nodding along as if he’s retracing your proposal step by step. “You think he’s… broken? And what, falsely advertising not being?”

“Hell yeah,” you confirm, “He’s messed up. Even worse than you because at least you admit you need a hand most days. You’re staying at the facility, aren’t you? Why doesn’t he do the same thing. What’s so hard about asking for help?”

Buck starts chewing lightly on the corner of his lip, looking at his hands, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes growing. “You think he’s ever asked anyone for help?”

You only make a noncommittal noise and open the paperback in your lap, because of course Steve wouldn’t. He only knows how to build walls, forgets they’re breakable, forgets he is too. But what do you know about it, considering you’ve been supplying him with bricks?

“Tell him something, won’t you? He needs to… I don’t know.”

Bucky echoes the same exasperated sound, tilting closer now to peek at the words, breath warm and sad. “You think he’s ever listened to me?” Then, he sighs, looking to immediately end the conversation and settling with, “That looks good—can you read it out loud?”

“It’s kind of a depressing book.”

“Yeah, well, I got therapy to sort me out afterwards, don’t I?”

It’s not a happy story, like you warned. The boys seem to be in the middle of a terrible coming of age, fumbling with their identities, protecting themselves against the universe and sometimes from each other. Lovely words, though. Soothing, beautiful phrases, but then there are shocks of violence that make him pause and ask you to go back, for context, or explanation, trying to catch up with the forty pages he’s already missed until he’s too invested but now you’re nodding off, stretching your neck, words slurring to a stop.

When Steve drops in to say goodbye, Bucky’s fixing a chevron blanket over your shoulders. He rubs his eyes absently and rolls his shoulders before he notices Steve.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Bucky jokes, “Girl’s beat. Fell asleep reading this thing—" he gingerly picks up the novel, flipping it front to back, blue cover catching the light. “Some story about… I’m still trying to figure, but I learned a new word: towhead. Means blond.”

“Huh,” Steve says.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. ‘Course, Buck. Why wouldn’t I be?” But Bucky only shrugs, kicking his foot at the carpet distractedly.  

“I’m not looking to get on your bad side, Stevie. Just think it wouldn’t kill you to give her a little more credit.” Bucky presses the nailbed of his middle finger to his thumbprint, leaning down until he’s wound up all that potential energy in a flick to your forehead. “Heavy sleeper, though. Reminds me of someone.” He throw Steve a lopsided grin, eyes mischievous and alight, “All the glass breaking in the world couldn’t stir you. Kettle would be going. Nothin.”

Steve was awake, all those times, and just pretending not to be. Under the covers because it was too cold to get up some mornings, mostly because Bucky was better at making the coffee and he liked the way it’d smell up the whole tiny apartment they shared. The spoon clink-clink-clinking over to his head before Bucky would finally yank the moth-eaten sheet down, laughing.

Up and at ‘em, Rogers. Nine-thirty’s no respectable time for a man to start the day.

Steve would wipe his eyes, stretch, and take the mug out of Buck’s hand, smiling.

“Up and at ‘em,” Bucky says now, but he’s not looking at Steve. He’s peering at the chevron and the mess of hair underneath. “Hobble off to bed, sweetheart.”

He kicks lightly when you’re unresponsive, and then a fraction harder until you stir enough to grouse at him.

“Leave me alone, jerk.” You pull the blanket back over your eyes but Bucky’s not having any of it, wrestling the covers off, patting your shoulder and arms until you stumble up, eyes still shut. You sway absently before slumping over Bucky’s back. “You’re not very comfortable.”

All he does is grin.

Steve looks on mutely, feels himself floating again, watching himself again, drifting further and further away.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #reader insert #fanfiction #marvel

[oreosmilkshakes]

Mine

Summary: Y/N has always wished to meet her soulmate and have the ability to see colours. When it happened, she wasn’t expecting it to be HYDRA’s famous assassin and boy, she was in real trouble now Pairing: The Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2.2K Warnings: Violence, The Winter Soldier acting possessive A/N: Originally, I didn’t fully like how this went but here it is! Inspired by a tiktok I saw and I was like ‘Let’s show The Winter Soldier some love’. I also don’t think anyone has done this before so here it is! Edited and checked by @thebestdecoder​ . Please comment on how it is! Thank you for reading :D

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In the world Y/N lives in, soulmates exist. As lovely and fairytale-like it sounds, there is a catch. Until you meet your soulmate, everyone sees black and white. Y/N was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, one well trusted by Fury. She wished every day that she might run into her soulmate on the streets or that someone she knew was her other half. For years, nothing. Still black and white. Y/N was on the verge of giving up but Steve and Natasha were constantly with her, reminding her that her other half will come. Little did Y/N know that that time would be sooner than later.

Right now, S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised by HYDRA. Steve and Natasha were hunting down one of HYDRA’s agents for information with the help of Sam and Y/N.

The highway was filled with cars, Sam driving towards a safe house far away from HYDRA’s eyes. “HYDRA doesn’t like leaks,” Sitwell stated obviously.

“Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?” Sam commented. Natasha peered over Steve’s shoulder. “Insight’s launching in 16 hours. We’re cutting it a little bit close here,” “I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly,” Steve planned. Y/N’s eyes widen. “Are you crazy? That’s suicidal! There’s no way we’ll survive. It’s us against HYDRA’s army,” Sitwell leaned forward. “Exact-,” A loud thud dented the roof of the car slightly, The team looked up, only for Sitwell to be dragged out by a metal arm and thrown onto the oncoming side of the freeway. “Shit!” Y/N cursed. Natasha immediately moved onto Steve’s lap, pulling his head down. Y/N stayed low as gunshots pierced the car’s roof. “Who the hell is on the roof?!” Y/N screamed in fear. “If I knew the answer to that, I would tell,” Steve grabbed the gearshift and pulled it back, causing the car to screech to a halt.

The heavy figure was thrown forward by the sudden stop, rolling on the tar, and skidded to a halt with his metal arm. Y/N gasped, eyes widening at the menacing man. Perhaps it was much scarier to witness all this through a black and white perspective. It made Y/N’s heart race and mind question her decision of following the team on this mission.

(gif credits to the owner)

The Winter Soldier stood up, covered eyes looking in the team’s direction and Y/N could have sworn she felt eyes on her specifically. Could it be..No! Definitely not. That would be insane.

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts when she was lunged forward by a sudden impact behind. An armored truck had slammed against the boot of the car and pushed the vehicle forward towards the direction of The Winter Soldier. Sam struggled to control the car as the vehicle got closer to the assassin. The assassin jumped on the car, punching through the windshield, and effortlessly pulled the steering out. “Shit!” Sam cursed. Natasha grabbed the gun off the floor and shot the roof. The Soldier jumped to the armoured truck.

With no steering, the car was practically driving towards its doom. The truck slammed into the back of the vehicle again, causing the car to drive towards the partition beam. Steve grabbed Sam and Sam grabbed Y/N. “Hang on!” Steve slammed the door with his shield, narrowly escaping the flipping car as they skidded on the road. Y/N received the most impact, knocked out cold the second her head slammed onto the tar. “Y/N!” Steve screamed and that was the last thing Y/N heard before blacking out.

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Y/N felt hands on her. “Y/N! Y/N wake up!” The voice was merely an echo or at least it sounded like one. Slowly, Y/N came to be. A soft moan escaped her lips, moving a hand to the side of her head. “Sam..? What happened?” Sam sighed in relief. “All sorts of shit is happening, Y/N. Right now, Steve and Natasha need our help. Can you fight?” He helped Y/N up, the woman nodded. She shook her head slightly, forcing the blur from the vision, and looked around. Gunshots were fired below the freeway and Y/N gasped. “Sam, you cover us from above. I’ll get down there,” Y/N rappelled down, pulling her knife out. She moved quietly, using the stranded vehicles for cover, and got closer to The Soldier.

The Soldier’s eyes scanned the area for Natasha, hands gripping his assault rifle. In the distance, he heard a call for help and proceeded to investigate. Y/N followed from behind quietly, watching his movements. An explosion nearby caused Y/N to flinch a little but she was quick to recover. “Hey!” She called out. Y/N jumped on the car, running over to The Soldier, and slammed a foot to his rifle. She grabbed him, wrapping her legs around his neck, and got his neck in a chokehold. Y/N was winning, forcing her arm to dig deeper into his neck. However, she was so very wrong. The Soldier stepped back, slamming Y/N against a car. This caused her to loosen her grip, just enough for The Soldier to grab Y/N off his back and throw her to another vehicle. The air was knocked out of Y/N upon impact. Her back was hurting and she was gasping for air. The Soldier picked up his gun, aiming to Y/N when a disc etched to his metal arm, and electrocuted The Soldier. He grunted, taken aback by the attack. “Y/N!” Natasha called out, grabbing Y/N off the car and led her away from the Soldier, who had broken free from the disabling attack. The Soldier flexed his metal arm, swinging it over to ensure it was still functioning.

Y/N and Natasha ran away from The Soldier, urging the crowd to get to safety. A single gunshot rang out and Natasha yelped in pain. “Nat!” Y/N gasped, holding onto Natasha and leaned her against the side of the car. Y/N struggled to see the blood. Fuck! Why did everything have to be black and white? “Put pressure on that,” Y/N instructed quickly before peeking out from the side of the car. Her eyes widened in horror, The Winter Soldier had his gun trained on her. “No!” Y/N screamed, covering her eyes to await the impact. But it didn’t come at all. When Y/N’s eyes fluttered open once more, The Winter Soldier was going head to head with Captain America in a tough fight.

“Nat? Nat? Come on, we have to get you away from here,” Y/N carefully picked Nat up, heaving her arm over her shoulder and led the injured assassin away from the fight. Y/N kept on glancing at the duo and could see that Steve was struggling to slow the assassin down. ‘Shit! I have to do something’ Y/N thought, setting Natasha down by a truck. “I’ve got to help Steve. Stay put, alright?” Nat let out a shaky breath, nodding. She grabbed Y/N’s wrist before the agent could leave. “Be careful, Y/N,” The agent nodded, running towards the two.

“Steve!” Y/N called out. The Winter Soldier had Steve pinned against a van, a knife dragging over so quickly by the blonde’s head. “Get away from him!” Y/N grabbed The Soldier, forcing the assassin’s attention on her.

The Soldier did not hold back, Y/N narrowly dodging his punches. Each punch she landed on him seemed like it didn’t do anything and that scared the woman a lot. The Soldier pinned Y/N to the floor, his metal arm raised and about to lay the final blow when Steve pulled him off the woman. Y/N let out a shuddered sigh, standing up and watched as Steve ripped the mask off The Winter Soldier’s face.

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The Soldier caught himself, cool air pierced his now exposed face. As he turned to face his enemy, colors burst from his vision. He...He was finally seeing colors? His piercing blue eyes landed on Steve and Y/N, specifically, Y/N.

Y/N’s jaw slacked as her own vision burst with colors. She gasped, a hand on Steve’s arm for support as overwhelming emotions took over her. ‘N-No...It can’t be!’ Y/N’s mind screamed. She parted her lips, a question on the tipping end of her tongue when Steve cut her off. “Bucky?”

The Soldier’s eyes moved on from Y/N’s shaking figure to Steve.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” The Soldier stepped forward, moving in Y/N’s direction. Right now, he didn’t care about Steve or the situation. He cared about his soulmate. There was a light pull The Soldier felt and Y/N felt it too. Her eyes never left the assassin, taking a small step towards him.

“Soulmate,” The Soldier called out darkly. Steve’s eyes widened, looking down at Y/N who looked like she was ready to run into the arms of his seemingly dead-now-alive best friend. “Y/N, no!” Steve grabbed Y/N, pulling her back.

A grenade whizzed past Steve’s form, blowing up between both parties. Y/N was pushed away from the impact, coughing heavily as the smoke entered her lungs. The Soldier had a new task: to get to his soulmate. “Soulmate!” The Soldier called out, walking through the smoke and fire like it didn’t affect him at all. Y/N gasped, The Soldier turned his head to the sound of the gasp. “There you are,” Y/N’s eyes widen, moving away from The Soldier. “Hey!” Sam yelled, slamming his foot against the assassin’s towering form. His body flew but he caught himself easily. Sam made another flyby. Thank god for Sam! Y/N scrambled to her feet, running from the situation. “Soulmate!” The Soldier screamed out, anger and something else laced his tone. He sprinted in her direction but was stopped by Steve and Sam, leading another fight to break out.

The Winter Soldier was motivated and when he was motivated, nothing could stop him from getting what he wants.

Y/N had light tears in her eyes, spotting Natasha in the distance and ran to her. “Nat, Nat, this can’t be happening!” Y/N panted, tears threatening to spill. Natasha held Y/N’s shoulder with her good hand, forcing the woman to look at her. “What happened? Y/N, calm down and tell me what happened,” The redhead urged, guiding the hysterical woman to sit down.

“He...He’s my soulmate! Nat, the enemy! I-I heard Steve say his name. Bucky...He’s my soulmate!” Natasha was taken aback by Y/N’s words. Their enemy was her soulmate? Y/N sobbed, Natasha wrapped an arm around her head and hugged her. “It’s okay. Hey, trust me, it’s going to be okay,” Natasha comforted softly.

After years of trying to find her soulmate, Y/N had found hers. But at what cost? Him being the enemy. Despite that fact, Y/N was glad she could see colors now. Everything was so vibrant and so beautiful. It never occurred to Y/N how bright and lively the world was. She felt happiness as she studied her colored surroundings, seemingly forgetting about the situation.

Until a loud scream pierced the air.

Y/N gasped, snapping out of her temporary trance and looked over the hood of the car. Sam was on the floor, unconscious and Steve was on his knees in a chokehold. “Y/N! Run! RUN!” Steve strained out, struggling to break free out of The Soldier’s strong hold.

Y/N watched in horror as Steve passed out by Sam. The Soldier stood slowly, raising his head to face the woman.

“Mine,” The Soldier stalked slowly towards the woman, like a wolf ready to strike its prey. Natasha grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“Get out of here! I’ll try to stop him!” Natasha stood, running to The Soldier in an attempt to try and slow him down but her efforts were futile as The Soldier simply knocked her out like she was nothing.”Nat!” Y/N screamed, backing away as The Soldier had his eyes on the woman immediately. “No..No!” Y/N took off and ran, sirens in the distance were fast approaching.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N felt like she had been running forever, finally slowing down when she turned to an alley. She panted hard, a hand on her chest as she did her best to calm her racing heart down. A tall figure quietly approached Y/N, a cool hand covered her mouth. The Soldier leaned in, breath hot as he spoke. “I found you,” Y/N screamed, struggling against The Soldier’s grip on her even though, clearly, it was useless to do so. “You’re my soulmate, princess and you’re not getting away that easily from me,” The Soldier growled, landing a blow on the side of her head.

The last thing Y/N knew before the darkness swallowed her was hearing his voice.

“Mine.”

#bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #fatws bucky #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine

[calpalirwin]

(Don’t) Leave Me in the Dark

Summary: When Bucky gets turned into the Winter Soldier, Steve has a plan for dragging his old friend out of the darkness: you.

A/N: Heavily inspired by Repeat by Luke Hemmings.

Word Count: 8.1k

And away, and away we go!

__

1943

Y/N’s eyes watched the crowd, flickering from person to person. Studying. Observing. And yes, maybe even ogling as her gaze locked in on two men in particular: a tall, strapping brunette in a sergeant’s uniform, and a scrawny blonde man with a stance designed to make him appear bigger than he actually was.

“You can do more than just look, you know,” a voice said in her ear, making her jump slightly.

“Stark,” she scolded with a soft giggle. “I’m working.”

“So am I. It’s called mixing business with pleasure. And there’s no harm in it. Especially when they look as good as that one.” Howard shot the woman a wink, jerking with his chin towards the soldier she couldn’t stop staring at. “A sergeant, too? A girl’s got taste.”

“I was actually looking at his friend,” Y/N half-lied.

Howard snorted, not believing the lie for a single second. “Oh really?”

She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, really. He’d be a perfect candidate.”

“You SHIELD agents are all the same. Always plotting and planning, and never enjoying,” he told you with a roll of his eyes. “Gentlemen!” he then called out loudly, grabbing the mens’ attention, the blonde pointing a finger at himself. “Yes, you two right there! Come take a gander at all that Stark Industries has to offer.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide as the men approached, and she could have killed Howard right then and there, but the men were growing closer, and oh! the brunette’s eyes were such a pretty shade of blue as they drank her in. “And would you be talking about the newest technology for the war, or the dames, Stark?” the soldier asked with a laugh, his stare still fixated on Y/N.

“She’s not one of mine,” Howard told him. “Which is unfortunate because Y/N is as smart as they come. Which is why SHIELD got their hands on her before I did.”

“SHIELD,” the blonde said. “That’s the government agency, yes?”

“That would be us, yes,” Y/N answered. “Interested in joining? We could use someone like you.”

“Really?” he questioned at the same time his friend let out a bark of laughter.

“Yes, really,” she said, ignoring the brunette. “If contributing to the war effort is something that’s important to you.”

“Oh, it’s important to both of us,” the sergeant told her.

“Yes, and it would seem that one of you has already managed to make their contribution, soldier,” she said, eyeing his uniform purposefully.

“It’s Sergeant,” he corrected. “Sergeant James B. Barnes, if you want specifics. But if you’re lucky, I’ll let you call me ‘Bucky’.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” she provided in turn, shifting her attention back to blonde. “And you?”

“Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Give SHIELD a call, Rogers. I promise it’ll be worth your while. Mention Operation Rebirth when you do.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you,” Steve said with a smile.

“Of course. Gentlemen,” Y/N gave a small nod to both Howard and Steve before turning to Bucky. “Bucky. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that, she walked off leaving Steve happy with his hopeful opportunity to at long-last join the war effort, Howard shaking his head at her antics, and Bucky completely in over his head about her.

~~~

1944

Y/N frowned as she looked over the debriefing. “So not only does Hydra have it’s hands on the same serum we created, they also are using it on POWs? Essentially turning our own men against us? Is that what you’re telling me?” she demanded, her voice sharp as she waved the folder in her hand.

“Yes, ma’am,” the agent told her, nodding their head, eyes wide with fear.

She slammed the folder on her desk. “So who’s going in to get our men back?”

“N-no one ma’am. General said it’s too dangerous. Waste of resources.”

“Well you tell the General that he c-”

Her threat got cut off by a new voice. “What do you mean the 107th got captured a month ago?! Do we know where their location is?!”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t quite place it. The voice that answered the man, however, she could place. “Yes, we have their location. However-” Peggy Carter spoke.

“However what?” the man asked. “You’re not staging a rescue mission? Those are our men!”

“You want me to tell the General what, ma’am?” the agent still standing in front of Y/N piped up awkwardly.

Y/N waved her hand at the agent in frustration. “You’re dismissed,” she told them before shouldering past and out the tent.

Sure enough, just outside the tent stood Peggy Carter and a tall blonde man, a wooden shield hanging off his arm. “Ah, Y/N,” Peggy smiled. “Might I introduce you to Captain America?”

Y/N looked up at the man, him both familiar and a stranger. He regarded her with the same look of confused recognition. “Steve,” he said, extending his hand to her. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“Steve, Steve Rogers, Steve?” she asked, shaking his hand. “Scrawny kid from Brooklyn, Steve?”

Steve gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “The one and only.”

Y/N shot Peggy an excited look. “The serum worked?!”

“I knew your name seemed familiar!” Steve beamed, now understanding how he felt that he knew the woman. “Thanks for the recommendation.”

“I’m glad it worked!” Then, the excitement vanished as she remembered the folder in her hand. If their serum worked, then that meant… “Oh, no… Peggy, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow in silent question, her eyes flickering to the folder. “Oh, yes. I wanted to talk to you about that as well.”

“They have our men. Why isn’t the General sending in a rescue squad?”

“Which men?” Steve asked.

Y/N opened the folder, running her finger down the document, rattling off a couple of squadrons, “... 107th Infantry Regiment…”

“That’s Bucky!” Steve interrupted. “That’s Bucky’s unit.”

“Your friend,” Y/N recalled. “The brunette who’s too good-looking for his own good?”

Steve spared a wry smile, “That’d be him.”

“Why isn’t the General sending in a rescue squad?” Y/N asked Peggy again. “Do you know how dangerous this could be? How much it compromises all the work we’ve done?”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m aware. The General however-”

“The General doesn’t know his left from his right!”

Peggy sighed. “He can’t spare the men.”

“So what do we do then?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re getting a team of SHIELD agents to rescue the POWs at a known Hydra base nearby.”

“This nearby Hydra base that contains the 107th?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” both women told him.

“I want in.”

It took two weeks for the plan to come to fruition. Armed with volunteers hellbent on revenge and a handful of SHIELD agents, Steve led the group in infiltrating the Hydra base. It was a mission with two prongs. Prong one involved Steve and the soldiers locating the POWs and getting them out. Prong two involved the SHIELD agents destroying any and all progress Hydra was making with the serum.

Y/N and Peggy waited back at a basecamp they had set up closer to the Hydra base without drawing unwanted attention. “Oh, would you stop with the incessant tapping of your foot?” Peggy asked in an exasperated tone. “They’ll be back when they get back.”

“There’s too many unknowns,” Y/N answered, moving to picking at her fingernails.

“Mmm, and these nerves would have nothing to do about seeing Steve’s friend again, would they?”

“No…?” Y/N said slowly. “What does Steve’s friend have to do with any of this? Where’d you get that idea from?”

“Steve. He mentioned the story of you meeting the both of them in New York. Something about an unknown potential between you and the sergeant.”

“Mmm, and we’re growing close to Steve, are we?” Y/N returned the teasing.

“Steve and I are merely work acquaintances. Much like how you and I are.”

“Tell that to Steve. He fancies you something awful.”

While Peggy and Y/N continued to tease each other about Bucky and Steve, the men were on their way back, having a similar conversation of their own.

“So… how did you become this?” Bucky had to ask, sweeping a hand up and down Steve. “A year apart, and you go and have a growth spurt on me?”

Steve chuckled. “Uh, do you remember Y/N from New York? The woman with Stark who told me to talk to SHIELD?”

“You mean the bombshell dame that I should have asked to dance? Oh, yeah,” Bucky smiled dreamily.

Steve chuckled more. “Well, her telling me to go to SHIELD turned me into this. An experimental serum to create the perfect soldier. And I guess it worked, because here I am.”

“Mmm, is there where you crush my spirits and say that you took Y/N dancing? I mean, surely if you caught her eye when you were the scrawny kid from Brooklyn…”

“No,” Steve said with a shake of his head. “Plus, I think she was only interested in me because of the experiment. And my eyes are on someone else. A different SHIELD agent.”

“Oh?” Bucky grinned, nudging his shoulder into Steve. “Look at you! A little serum, and suddenly you’re a ladies man. You’re all grown up.”

“And you’re still the same, I see,” Steve laughed.

Bucky laughed along with Steve, but the laugh didn’t hold the same trace of humor. “Yeah… So, tell me about this new lady.”

“Peggy. She’s wonderful. Smart. Fierce. And she’s here. Y/N is too.”

“Y/N’s here?”

“Yeah. A lot of SHIELD agents are. I was a little surprised to see her myself. I mean, I only saw her that night in New York, same as you. I almost didn’t recognize her at first. I’m shocked she remembered me at all.”

“She’s here?” Bucky repeated.

“Yes,” Steve nodded. Then, “And yes, she still looks like she’s available. So if you wanted to ask her for that dance, now would be your chance.”

Bucky gave a shy scoff of a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I dunno about all that.”

“I thought you wanted to dance with her?”

“I do! But… Look, there’s a reason I didn’t ask her in New York. I was leaving for here. I didn’t want to risk either of us getting attached, and then something happening to me. I mean, imagine if I had asked her to dance, and we started exchanging letters, and then she stopped hearing from me. I couldn’t do that to her.”

“So, you were going to hope that when the war’s over you’d be able to find her?”

“Yeah. A girl like that deserves stability, Steve. No matter how badly I might wanna share a dance or two with her.”

“Well, you can tell her all that yourself if you like,” Steve told him, nodding his head in the direction of a camp coming into view. “Cause she’s here, here.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide. “No! And you don’t tell her either, you understand me?! I’ll tell her when I’m ready. When the time’s right.”

Steve gave a roll of his eyes. “Whatever you say, Buck.”

“Steve?” Peggy asked, rising from her seat, hearing the voices as they drew closer. “Y/N, I think they’re here.”

With a sigh, Y/N also stood up, following Peggy out of the tent, watching a large group of men walking up, Bucky and Steve in the front. “You did it,” Peggy told Steve proudly.

“Of course,” Steve smiled. “Peggy, this is Buck. Buck, this is Agent Carter. And I think you’ll remember Y/N.”

“Hi,” Bucky said, his voice growing shy as he offered both women a small wave. “Good to see you again, Y/N.”

“Likewise,” she replied, taking note of his appearance: battered uniform, a slightly haunted look still lingering in his crystal blue eyes, scruff decorating his jaw, disheveled hair, a dirty face, and a scratch just under one of his eyes. A seemingly out of place scratch that set alarms off in her head. “Would you mind coming with me?”

“Me? With you?” he asked, waving a finger between them.

“That’s what I said, yes. We need to get you examined.”

His eyes widened for the briefest second as he swallowed thickly. “You can just point me in the direction of the nurses’ tent. You don’t-” he stammered.

“Our nurses are going to be swamped checking over all the other men,” she explained. “And if you’re worried about my own nursing skills, I assure you that I’ve picked up on a few things during my time here.”

“It’s true,” Peggy confirmed. “Y/N actually might be better than some of the nurses on our staff.”

“Uh…” Bucky continued to stammer, uncertain of what to do.

Y/N started walking off, pausing when she didn’t hear the sound of boots following after. “Bucky?” she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder. “You coming?”

He gave a shake of his head to clear it. “Yeah. Yeah.”

Silently they trekked through the camp, past the nurses station crowded with soldiers waiting to be seen, and into a smaller tent that held a cot made up neatly, and a desk with a chair behind it. “Have a seat,” Y/N directed, motioning towards the cot. As Bucky took a seat, Y/N pulled a first aid kit out of a desk drawer, before dragging the chair over to the cot. “I’m aware that I’m about to ask you some difficult questions, but I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?” she asked as she sat down, opening the kit in her lap.

“I think so?”

“How’d you get this scratch?” She wiped an alcoholic pad across it, creating a patch of clean skin on his otherwise dirty face.

He shrugged. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Lying to me already?”

“I’m not lying!” he snapped.

“Then tell me how you got the scratch. And don’t tell me a guard hit you because we know that’s a lie. That’s an abrasion mark. Like you scraped it against something. So how’d you manage to scrap your face against something?”

His mouth pinched, the look in his eyes growing more haunted. “I don’t wanna talk about it…”he muttered.

“It wasn’t normal torture, was it? Did they experiment on you?”

“I said I don’t wanna talk about it!” he snapped again, his tone carrying a hard edge.

“I know you don’t want to. But I need you to. It’s important that you tell me everything that happened,” she said, keeping her voice calm and controlled.

He screwed his eyes shut tight, clenching his hands into fists. “They injected us with something…” the words started to spill in a rapid rush. “It made some of us stronger… And others… It was painful… Like facing a firing squad would hurt less. The screaming… And we couldn’t see what was happening. They’d strap us in these chairs like at the dentist, and then they’d put these things over our faces. And then there was more pain. Like getting electrocuted. They’d do it for days. You never knew which day was yours. The screams never stopped. God, I just want it to stop!” His eyes snapped open, his chest heaving, body trembling, tear tracks down his cheeks. “What did they do to me?” he asked, his voice a broken, hoarse whisper.

“They turned you into a super soldier.”

“A what?”

“It’s an experimental procedure. It’s what we did to Steve. It’s designed to make you faster and stronger. Harder to kill.”

“You tortured Steve?!” The hard edge was back in his tone, almost murderous.

“No! Steve only got the serum. And it was painful, the way it changes your body on a molecular level. But we don’t brainwash our soldiers with electrocution afterwards.”

“So why did they electrocute us? If it's the same experiment?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. But I’d say it has something to do with stripping away your humanity. Turning you into an obedient killing machine. Nobody wants a soldier who questions orders, right? Hydra… they somehow learned about Operation Rebirth, which is our program for creating super soldiers. We wanted it to give ourselves a competitive edge in the war, and cut down on our own casualties. But Hydra just wants the competitive edge, no matter the cost to human life. They want the perfect, undefeatable army.”

“But why us? Why me?”

“Why not you and other POWs? Better for them to risk enemy lives than the lives of their own soldiers.”

“It’s not right…”

“Nobody said it was. And you have my deepest condolences for what you and your men have suffered through.”

“I don’t want your condolences!”

“What do you want?”

“To murder every one of those bastards for what they did to me.”

“Then it looks like we’re on the same side.”

~~~

1945

It took another year for the team to gather more intel on Hydra’s plans for the super soldier serum. A year of small missions led by Steve and Bucky with their own small squadron of soldiers. A year of Peggy and Y/N pouring over debriefings, fitting together as many pieces of the puzzle as they could. A year of Y/N listening to Bucky wake up in the middle of the night, struggling to catch his breath as his mind forced him to relive his days in captivity. A year of feeling the tug to leave her tent for his, to provide any sort of comfort for him she could, but ultimately always deciding against it. Instead, she’d seek him out in the mornings, offering him a small smile as if to offer congratulations for surviving another night with his demons.

Bucky grew to live for those morning smiles. Lived for the way that Y/N could go from demanding SHIELD agent who could strike fear in the hearts of war-hardened soldiers, to a woman with a soft laugh he swore was only reserved for conversations with him. He reveled in the fact that she grew comfortable enough around him to feel like she could drop the hard facade she gave everyone else. As if around him, she didn’t feel like she had to prove herself like she did around the other men.

“So defeat Red Skull. Should be a simple enough mission, eh, Buck?” Steve joked during a debriefing meeting.

“Piece of cake,” Bucky answered, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder.

“No,” Y/N cut in. “The mission is to defeat Hydra. Defeating Red Skull is just a piece of it. An important piece. But a piece all the same.”

“But kill the head of the organization, and the rest will fall,” Bucky told her.

She rolled her eyes. “You know what Hydra is, right? The monster from Greek myths?”

“Yeah, it’s the snake with multiple heads. Everyone knows what a Hydra is.”

She rolled her eyes more. “So you know that it’s not as simple as just killing the head of the organization? After all, kill the head, two more grow in its place. Hence, Red Skull only being a piece. You have to take down the whole monster, not just its head.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said, waving his hand dismissively. “So, we go in to defeat Hydra once and for all. When do we leave?”

“Captain Rogers, you, and your team leave at dawn,” Peggy told him, a finger pointing at a map. “You catch the train here. It’ll lead you straight to Hydra.”

“That’s a mountain…” Bucky pointed out the obvious flaw in the plan.

“How else are you supposed to catch a Hydra train? Buy a ticket?” Y/N asked him, tone heavy with rhetoric. 

Bucky looked at Steve with raised eyebrows. “So we’re gonna catch a train on a mountainside, huh?”

“Easy, right?”

“Piece of cake. Anything else?”

“No, that’s all,” Peggy told them.

“Oh!” Y/N said, suddenly thinking of something. “Actually yes. One last thing.” She got up to grab a suitcase, setting it down on the table and opening it, revealing small devices inside.

“What are those?” the other three asked her.

“Trackers. In the event anything happens. Make sure each of your men is equipped with one. You just slide it on like a bracelet and hit this button right here,” she demonstrated. “And then I can see your location here,” she pointed at a monitor screen that showed a green light blinking steadily. She turned off the tracker and the blinking went dead on the monitor. “The Navy’s been a great help with their radar technology. And Stark of course.”

“Of course,” the other three said.

Y/N snapped the suitcase shut, handing it to Steve. “Don’t forget.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now go get your rest. It’s gonna be a long mission.”

In the morning, Peggy and Y/N were up to see the men off. While Peggy and Steve had their own hushed farewell, Y/N stood facing Bucky, her arms crossed over her chest. “Be safe, James.”

“Oh, I’m ‘James’ now?” he asked with a bemused smile. “What did I do to warrant that?”

“Bucky!” she said, her cheeks flushing. “I meant to say ‘Bucky’.”

His eyes flickered around, noting how close the other men were. “Whatever you say, Agent Y/L/N.”

“Sergeant Barnes,” she said, her nostrils flaring.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I don’t like that one. Not from you. ‘James’ I can make an exception for. But I still prefer when you call me ‘Bucky’.”

“Just… be safe, okay?”

He nodded, giving her a mock salute and a cheeky wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, watching as Bucky joined Steve, and the team rolled out. Once they were out of her line of sight, she turned into her tent, pulling out the monitor screen for the trackers, watching the green lights come blinking to life.

While her energy could have been better spent on other tasks, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything besides watch the steady blinking, a calm reassurance that all the men were exactly where they were supposed to be.

As expected, as the mission went forward, some of the trackers didn’t move forward with the rest. Each one felt like someone had stabbed Y/N with a knife, and her only hope was that it wasn’t Bucky or Steve.

One tracker however caught her attention. It stayed behind while the others went forward. But then, it stopped blinking.

Y/N quickly jotted down the coordinates of where it had been blinking, drawing a small star next to it. She also jotted down the other coordinates of the trackers that stayed behind. But the one that went dark made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She didn’t like that it was the only one that stopped blinking.

Hours ticked by. More coordinates were jotted down. Then, a cluster of the trackers stayed together while one continued onward, and her heart dropped to her stomach, knowing that nothing about that could be good.

At that moment, Peggy came barging into her tent, radio in hand. “Steve, where are you?”

“All I see is ocean,” came the garbled radio response. “This plane’s going down. Let’s get a raincheck on that date?”

Peggy’s eyes looked at Y/N frantically, and the other woman pointed a finger at the monitor, tracking who she assumed to be Steve, as it was the only light still moving on the screen. “We have your coordinates. We’re sending someone to get you. Stay put,” Peggy told Steve.

“It’s hard to stay put when I’m crashing.”

Static crackled through the radio. “Steve?” Peggy asked. “Steve, do you copy? Y/N, where is he?!”

“There, he’s there!” Y/N told the other woman, following the blinking light with her finger. “Have the Navy pick him up.”

Peggy watched the monitor over Y/N’s shoulder while she called into the radio for someone to send Steve’s location to the Navy. “And which are these?” she asked, pointing at the cluster of blinking lights.

“That’s the Hydra base. So we need to send someone to go get the survivors.”

“Yes, and these?” Peggy’s finger moved to the spattering of random locations of blinking lights.

“Bodies to pick up. Peggy, was Bucky with him?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“One of the lights. It dropped off in the mountains. But then the tracker went dead. It’s the only one that went dead.”

“And what does that mean? The tracker broke?”

“Or someone broke it. None of the others went dead. The tracker stayed blinking in the same spot, but it stayed on the map. All but that one. Something about it feels off to me.”

“We’ll figure it out after we get the team back.”

It was a long, and tense wait for Steve and the survivors of the team to make it back, Y/N scanning around for Bucky. “Where is he?” she demanded, pulling Steve aside.

“Hello to you too, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve. Glad you’re back after your nice swim in the Atlantic. Where’s Bucky?”

Steve swallowed, lowering his head.

“Steve…” she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. “Where is he?”

“Let’s go talk,” was all he said, ushering her into a tent where they’d have more privacy.

“Just tell me if he’s dead or not,” she said, her voice cracking as she crossed her arms.

“I don’t know…”

“How do you not know?”

“I mean, I don’t know. On the train. It was a set up. Hydra was waiting for us. There was a fight. I tried to grab him, but he slipped.”

The blinking light that went dead in the mountains. “Steve…”

“I tried, Y/N. I tried to keep him safe. But he just slipped. And I dunno how anyone could survive a fall from that high up. You’d have to be super human or something.”

“The serum.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The serum!” she said again, hope rising in her voice. “Steve, the serum!”

“What about it?”

“Bucky has it! It’s in him like it’s in you!”

“He’s a super soldier?!”

“Yes! It happened when his unit got captured last year.”

“So he could have survived?!”

“He could have survived!”

“Well, where’s the tracker?! Let’s go!”

Y/N frowned.

“What? What is it?”

“The only tracker that stayed in the mountains went dead two minutes after your team went forward. It’s the only tracker that went off the radar.”

“We were pretty high up. Is it possible it just broke?”

“Let’s hope so.”

Two hours later, Peggy, Steve, and Y/N trekked through the snow in search of any signs of Bucky. Thousands of feet up in the air, Y/N could make out the train track. “I don’t get it,” she grumbled, her boot kicking at a patch of snow. “The coordinates are right here. So where is he?”

“Uh… Y/N?” Steve said, holding up two pieces of a black bracelet.

“My tracker…” she mourned the two broken pieces.

“But look at how it’s broken. It’s like someone snapped it in half. Buck wouldn’t have done that.”

“But whoever took him would,” Y/N said.

“But who took him?”

“I’ll give you two guesses.”

“But Hydra’s done. We won,” Steve said, not understanding.

Y/N shook her head, kicking at more snow as tears started to slide down her cheeks. “You said you were ambushed right? That they knew you were coming?”

“Yeah…”

“Steve, Hydra is more than just the Nazis. It’s everyone that opposes SHIELD. How many enemies besides the Nazis does America have?”

“So Buck could be anywhere?”

“Yes, and once news breaks of your mission, and with the war itself starting to end, any of the remaining Hydra heads are going to lay low.”

“And we can’t find Buck until we find Hydra. If he survives.”

“He’s a super soldier. If he managed to survive that fall, I’m sure Hydra will want to keep him alive as long as they can. Turn him into an asset they can exploit. Provided he doesn’t cause them any trouble.”

“Oh, it’s Buck. All he does is cause trouble,” Steve chuckled humorlessly before sighing. “I don’t know which reality I wanna live in. One where he’s dead. Or one where he's missing, and I don’t know how or when I’ll find him, or what he’ll be when I do.”

“I know,” she nodded, more tears falling down her face. “But at least when I believe he’s alive, there’s hope. And I need that hope, Steve.”

Steve pulled her in for a tight hug. Steve wanted to give her more reassurance, to tell her the truth about how Bucky felt about her, but he decided against it, understanding finally why Bucky had never said anything himself. He couldn’t bear the idea of breaking her heart more than it was already breaking. Likewise, Y/N wanted to give Steve his own reassurance. For him to know how much her heart was breaking for him because she knew how much Bucky meant to him, because he had meant just as much to her. But instead, she sniffled into Steve’s chest, his own tears dropping into her hair while he whispered, “We’ll find him. Somehow. We’ll find him,” on a loop as he held her to him, both of them mourning their friend.

~~~

1953

“Y/N!” Steve said loudly as he burst into the woman’s office, a wide grin on the captain’s face. “You’re gonna love me.”

“I think your wife might have a problem with that,” she teased, barely looking up from her work to acknowledge her friend.

He placed a folder down on her desk. “Just look at this, will you?”

She opened the folder, giving it a look through. “Hydra intel? Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

“Yep. They’re still staying low. Taking advantage of civil uprisings to eliminate threats to their cause.”

“Well, that’s certainly one way to go about being undetected. Where do we come in?”

“We’re the next threat. Or at least, Washington D.C. is. You in?”

“Who’s the team?”

“Right now? Just me.”

“Rogers…”

He raised his hands. “I know it sounds bad. But, a lot of people aren’t willing to believe Hydra’s behind the attacks. So it’s not an official mission we have any clearance on.”

Y/N waved the folder. “So this isn’t an official report? What is this then?”

“My own personal research,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“Rogers…”

“Look, I can’t explain it. I just have a feeling that I’m right.”

“So you want my help staking out the meeting at Capitol Hill next week on the feeling that Hydra might be plotting something?”

“Yes. You in?”

“You better not be wrong.”

A week later, Steve and Y/N stood watch, both of them silently hoping he was wrong, but also hoping he was right. For the first half hour, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The lull into the false sense of security before the sound of a bomb went off, sending everyone into panic mode.

Y/N crouched down, eyes scanning around for anything that didn’t fit the pattern of how a terrified citizen would act. “You see anything?” she spoke into her earpiece.

“There!” Steve’s voice shouted in her ear. “Long hair. Mask. Metal arm. Gun,” he rattled off the details.

“Location?!”

“Headed your way. Run!”

Y/N took off, eyes on the lookout for whoever Steve had described. “Run! Move!” she shouted as she pushed people aside. Gunfire rang out, and she felt a sharp white-hot pain in her chest as she took cover behind a car, her heartbeat drumming loudly in her ears. Applying pressure to the wound, she looked around for the shooter, hoping Steve was on his way to her.

She turned her head to the sound of a gun cocking, eyes going wide with fear as she spotted the person Steve had described, gun pointed her way.

She held her breath as the man took aim, then changed his mind as Steve came charging at him. With his metal arm, he threw a punch at Steve, who quickly threw up his shield to block it, the sound of metal hitting metal creating a loud clanking sound. Quickly, the man pushed the shield aside, kicking Steve in the chest, the action causing both men to fall backwards.

Y/N watched from her vantage point as the shooter pulled up his gun, shooting a rapid succession at Steve who curled up behind his shield, the bullets ricocheting off. Steve took advantage of the man pausing to reload to draw in closer. The shooter got in more shots, before Steve roundhouse kicked the gun free. Not missing a beat, the shooter pulled out another gun, firing off more shots that got deflected by the shield.

In another brief pause, Steve took a swing that the shooter dodged. Steve immediately came up swinging with the shield, which the shooter grabbed easily, both men trying to punch each other around it. Annoyed, the shooter grabbed onto the shield with his other hand, giving a sharp twist, flipping both Steve and the shield, leaving Steve defenseless. Y/N gasped, knowing she needed to get moving and help. “C’mon, c’mon,” she hissed, pressing her palm firmer into her wound, wishing she had a way to hold her shirt in place as a makeshift bandage.

Not caring, Steve raised his fists, both of them going back to exchanging blows until the metal arm connected solidly into his chest, knocking him backwards. Steve quickly rolled back to his feet before charging at the masked man again, who launched the shield. Steve twisted out of the way, the shield embedding itself into a car right behind him. Steve kept running, as his opponent freed a knife from his side, slashing at Steve’s punches. One of Steve’s punches got the man straight in the jaw. As the man grunted from the impact, Steve jumped to deliver a kick to the chest, knocking the assailant backwards. Wasting no time, Steve went in for another kick, his foot connecting again.

The blows however, did little to stop the other man as he came back at Steve. He threw a punch with the nonmetal arm that Steve grabbed onto and flipped the man onto his back. But in a swift blur, the man got up, the metal hand gripping tightly around Steve’s throat before throwing him.

Steve fell to the ground, gasping for air as the man kept coming. A punch that Steve narrowly missed shattered the asphalt. Somehow Steve got to his feet as his attacker pulled out another knife. Punches and knife slashes were deflected, as Steve lured the man closer to free his shield that was still lodged in the car.

Freeing the shield, Steve brought it in between where metal met flesh at the man’s shoulder, trying to cut the metal arm loose. When that didn’t work, Steve flipped the man in a backwards somersault, his mask clattering to the ground.

Everything froze for a terrible second, Steve’s chest heaving with exertion as the shooter rose to his feet, turning to face Steve. The captain’s eyebrows pulled together in stunned confusion, recognizing his opponent instantly. “Bucky?” he whispered, not sure if he wanted to believe what he was seeing.

Y/N decided it was now or never to provide Steve with much needed backup. Without being able to take pressure off her wound, she decided her only option was to somehow kick Bucky from behind. But she first had to get up somewhere high enough to land a kick where it would do the most damage. With a grunt and her free hand, she pulled herself up onto the roof of the car she’d been taking cover behind, Bucky right below her.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the man asked, pulling a gun on Steve and taking aim. He was about to pull the trigger when Y/N jumped, kicking Bucky in the back of the head as she came down almost directly on top of him.

Bucky fell forward, rolling to his feet as Y/N landed on hers, preparing for him to turn his attention to her. Instead though, he kept his attention on Steve, scared confusion on his face. He pulled a grenade free, throwing it at Steve, and while both Steve and Y/N crouched to cover themselves with the small explosion, Bucky used the distraction to disappear.

“I knew it,” was all Y/N could say as she winced from the pain.

Steve rushed over to her, eyes full of worry as they took in the gunshot. “We should get that checked out.”

“And figure out how to get our Bucky back. Steve, that was exactly what I feared was going to happen when we didn’t find him.”

“I know. I know.”

“How though? Steve… he was only with Hydra a month before you rescued him last time. And it was bad. I don’t know how much you saw compared to what I did. But it wasn’t good. He had nightmares right up until you guys left for that last mission. A month had that kind of effect on him. Now we’re up against eight years. How do we bring him back from this?”

“What stopped me from becoming that?”

“The fact that we didn’t brainwash you of your humanity.”

“So, all we gotta do is tap into that humanity. I mean, did you see how he stopped once I realized it was him?”

“You mean how he threw a grenade at your head? How he shot me?”

“His humanity is still there, Y/N. We just have to get to it.”

“How?!”

“By using you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Steve sighed. “I was never supposed to be the one to tell you this. He was. But Bucky liked you from the minute he met you. But he was adamant about not telling you he did until the war was over. Because he couldn’t bear the idea of something happening to him and it breaking your heart. He wanted to make sure he was safe first, able to give you stability in not worrying about him.”

“Well, he’s a fool, because I worried about him and my heart broke anyway.”

“He meant well. But, because of how he felt about you, I think you’re the answer to bringing him back.”

“How though, Steve? He looked right at me, and still tried to shoot me again.”

Steve sighed again. “You might hate me for this suggestion. But kiss him.”

“You want me to kiss the man who just tried to kill us both? Are you insane?!”

“It could work.”

“Like some fairytale? True love’s kiss breaks the spell? Only in this case the spell is eight years of brainwashing him into an obedient assassin?”

“Yeah, basically,” Steve nodded.

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I thought we were friends, and here you are telling me to kiss the assassin who shot me, Rogers! Are you trying to get me killed?!”

“I’m only saying it might be our best bet at getting our Bucky back. But, if you’re not up for it, I understand. It’s a huge risk.”

She narrowed her eyes. “If I die kissing Bucky, I will haunt you for the rest of your days, Rogers,” she threatened.

Steve flashed her a charming smile. “I’ve been reliably informed that dying kissing Buck would be a heavenly way to go.”

It would take awhile to get Operation Fairytale going, as Y/N healed from her gunshot wound and Hydra had the smarts to go back to laying low.

All in all, it took about two months before Steve was bursting back into Y/N’s office with a wide smile. “Find him?” was all she asked.

“Yep,” Steve said, grinning wider. “You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

As they traveled to where Steve claimed he had found Bucky, he reminded her of what she was to do. “Keep your distance. You don’t wanna be on the receiving end of his regular arm, much less his metal one. But you have to get close enough at the same time. Something about using his name will start to draw him out, so use it a lot. Then you can probably get close enough to where he won’t actively want to hurt you.”

She nodded. “But you’ll be close by if your hunch doesn’t work?”

“As close as I can without tipping him off that I’m there, yes.”

“This plan is insane, you know that, right?”

“Why do you think it’s just me and you?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and taking a slow breath to steady herself. “Just don’t let me die, yeah?”

“That’s part of the plan.”

“Love that confidence…”

“Last chance to back out. I can try to tap into his humanity on my own. I already did it once. I just think you’d have a better chance at cracking into him than I do.”

“Just don’t let me die, Steve. Because one way or another we’re gonna get Bucky back. But if I die in the process, I don’t want it to have been for nothing.”

“That’s why keeping you alive is an important part of the plan.”

Both too soon and not soon enough, Y/N found herself face to face with Bucky. Well, face to back. “Bucky,” she called out, her voice soft and soothing. “Bucky, it’s Y/N. It’s me.”

The soldier turned, mask obscuring the lower half of his face, eyes cold blue steel as they regarded her. She silently cursed herself and Steve for forgetting about the mask. Another obstacle to figure a way around. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Yes, you do,” she said, taking a step forward. “You’re Bucky. And I’m Y/N. We know each other.”

“No, we don’t!” his voice rose, hands curling into fists at his sides.

Y/N dropped a hand to her side, ready to grab at her gun if she needed to. “I don’t want to fight you, Bucky. But I will if I have to.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” she taunted, fingers wrapping around the grip of her gun.

With a yell of frustration, Bucky advanced on her. In a swift motion, she freed the gun, firing off a few shots at him, stepping backwards as she did so.

He kept advancing, deflecting some of her shots with his metal arm, but one grazed across his ribs, causing him to hiss as blood splattered.

“I guess that makes us even?” she huffed as he stopped advancing, his fingers staining red as he brushed them against his wound, assessing the damage. “Stop now, and I won’t have to shoot you again.”

She couldn’t see the way his lips pulled aways from his teeth in a snarl, as he pulled a knife. Quickly he advanced, slashing out at her. “Really?!” she yelled angrily as she dodged and jumped backwards, trying to keep out of his arm’s reach. “You’re gonna try to stab me now, too?! James Buchanan Barnes!”

He gave an equally angry yell of his own, slashing at her faster with the knife. As he got within reach of her, she ducked down, sweeping out her leg to try and knock him off his feet. “It’s me, Bucky!” she screamed at him, each word a new attempt at a hit.

Whether it was her words finally getting to him or her taking an offensive position against him, Bucky stopped attacking back, putting all his efforts into blocking her blows. “Bucky!” she kept screaming, swiping at his face to knock off his mask. “You’re Bucky! Remember, damn it!”

“I don’t know who that is!” He grabbed her wrist in his hand before flinging her free, the strength sending her skiddering backwards.

“Yes, you do!” She lunged at him, tackling him to the ground, pinning his arms down with her knees. And knowing she had about a millisecond before he threw her off, she crushed her lips into his, putting as much emotion and power into it as possible.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she braced herself for the impact of getting thrown like a ragdoll. But instead, the hand was pulling her in closer, Bucky’s lips moving to kiss her back. “Y/N,” he breathed against her mouth.

“It’s me. It’s me, Bucky,” she nodded, pulling away with a half laugh/half sob. “It’s me,” she repeated, sitting back on his chest.

“You shot me,” he coughed.

“You shot me first.”

“I didn’t know…” he told her, his breathing becoming erratic with fear and panic. “I didn’t know…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, cupping his face in her hands and brushing at the tears that started to spill. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

“Home,” he nodded as she climbed off of him and onto her feet, reaching a hand down to him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

After a hesitant, then tearful reunion with Steve, Bucky recounted his time with Hydra as they all sat around Peggy and Steve’s house. Much like how his conversation had gone with Y/N when he recounted his first go at captivity, the words spilled out in a rush, his hands clenched tightly at his sides as he refused to meet anyone’s eye for too long.

“It was like the first time. But worse. As the serum worked with more of us, they had us start fighting each other. The electrocutions… They’d use this list of words to put us in this mindset where our only task is to cause hurt. Like complete mind control. And if we weren’t getting electrocuted, fighting each other, or doing their bidding, we were put in these states of sleep. It’s not an army they’re creating. They’re creating a new breed of assassins.”

“Well, they’re down one super assassin now,” Steve said, relief mixing with the deep concern of what Bucky’s news could mean for the future. “What happened to your arm? Was that them?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. Well… yes, but no. It happened when I was falling. I tried to grab anything to slow my fall, but I was going too fast. And then I was on my back in the snow. And then I wasn’t. And now I’m here.”

“You still wanna murder every last one them?” Y/N asked with a small smile.

Bucky raised his eyes to meet hers: haunted versus home. Slowly he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. So, I guess that makes us on the same side?”

“We were always on the same side, Bucky.”

He looked down at his side that sported a bandage under his shirt. “Plus or minus a few details anyway.” He scanned his eyes around the small house. “You got a spare bedroom here, Steve? Or anywhere I can lay down for a bit? Pretty tired.”

Steve nodded, but it was Y/N who stood up. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” she said.

“Y/N, you can grab him some clothes out of my closet. I think Buck and I are finally the same size.”

Bucky and Steve shared a laugh, as Bucky followed Y/N through the house to a bedroom. Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed as Y/N rummaged around in drawers, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for the man. “Bathroom’s through that door,” she pointed, handing him the clothes.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom to change. “Um, can I ask you something?” he asked her through the door.

“Sure.”

“Would you mind staying with me? I- I don’t want to be alone…”

“Stay with you like sleep in the bed with you?”

“Well you don’t have to sleep if you’re not tired. But yeah. If you don’t mind.” As he pulled the bathroom door open, she could see the traces of fear lingering in his haunted look.

“Yeah, I’ll lay with you.”

“Thanks. And um…” he rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. “C-can the light stay on?”

“Of course, Bucky. Whatever you need.”

“Just you,” he mumbled under his breath, but she heard him anyway, both of their cheeks flushing.

“When you wake up, maybe we can go out for that dance,” she teased as she crawled under the covers with him.

“Only if I can kiss you afterwards.”

“Or you could kiss me now.”

His breath caught as his fingers hooked under her chin, guiding her in for a kiss. “Thank you for not leaving me,” he whispered.

“I could never leave you, Bucky.”

__

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#(don't) leave me in the dark #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #avengers #calpal irwin

[subwaysurf45]

Winter Makes Ice (Ep.1)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title. 

Episode: One 

Words: 3948

Warning: depiction/description of violence, kidnapping, killing, PTSD, depression. 

A/N: I will be making a masterlist for this specific series!

Masterlist!

Winter Makes Ice (series masterlist)

Time: 1:36pm

Date: September 23rd, 2024

“Bucky, I swear to fucking god-” You threw the person you just knocked out onto the ground of the common room, “you have to get out of here, It’s you or this entire building!” Bucky gave you a sympathetic look as you fought off Hydra agents, your gun fired three shots behind you to another agent you sensed running up. 

“But I can’t leave you!” Bucky screamed back over the fire and bullets, Hydra agents were running in from every which way. The smoke rising made it harder for him to see you and Sam, who was also there a couple seconds ago. Everyone else was trying to stop the agents from the outside or other levels. It was a complete break-in. 

“Fuck all that Bucky, I love you but I can’t love you if you’re dead- Fuck!” You screamed in pure anger as you began hand to hand combat with an agent, he wasn’t good at all so it was a quick take down. “James!” you looked over to just see him standing there, his eyes were watery from the pain and smoke, “you need to fucking leave! Run!” you shouted, waving him off. 

“I love you!” He yelled over, hands cupping his mouth to make sure you heard him.

“I’ll tell you I love you after this, we’ll be okay,” you looked over your shoulder to find three new agents running in, their eyes weren’t even looking at you. You looked back to find Bucky still standing there, “fucking run!” Your throat felt raw, all the screaming and fighting was taking a massive toll on you. 

Bucky took off in the other direction, the fire was subsiding as he got further from you. The serum gave him lungs like no other, so running through fire and smoke was easy. With a frantic mind and tunnel vision his left and right mixed up, all Bucky was trying to find was an exit and it should’ve been easy but he’d turn back after remembering this wasn’t the right hallway. His hand was gripped tightly on his gun while the metal hand held a knife firmly, after getting his mind back he found he could throw better with his left and shoot with his right- his dominant hand is right anyway. 

“Anyone on their com?” Everyone had quickly shoved theirs in during the start of the ambush; half the SHIELD agents weren’t wearing their tactical gear. 

“Rogers is here,” Steve ended his sentence with a grunt. 

“So is Romanoff,” Nat sounded a bit more composed but still out of breath. 

“y/n is down on the main floor, she told me to run because all they’re after is me, someone needs to go down and help her,” he received a few confirmations before focusing back to the task at hand. The bright light of the afternoon sun blinded him for a second, with all the lights shutting off and the smoke it made it seem like it was night. Bucky reached up to rub his eyes to help adjust to the sun but ended up just rubbing smoke and fumes into them, “fuck!” He stumbled back against the closed door as he used his shirt to rub his eyes but that was also covered in his smoke. 

Bucky reached back and grabbed a completely full water jug that was the size of his palm, Bucky could feel his heart shatter as his eyes cleared because it was you who- only a matter of hours ago -was leading a very relaxed meeting about these water bottles, ‘you need to hydrate to stay on your feet’ you had said a couple times. His mind was as clear as his eyes, the way you were screaming at him to leave, the way you stood directly between him and the Hydra agents so they had to shoot through you to get him, the way you kept looking back to him with tears in your eyes because all you wanted was for him to stay but you knew better and sent him away. The tears mixed with the water as he sprayed his face, the smoke clung to his sweat like he did to you after a nightmare. The entire Avengers building was slowly caving in on itself, he could feel his heart lurch with every new piece of the building fall on the inside, he just hoped it didn’t hit you. 

He kept walking further from what he once called home, trying to get a better view of it all. He wanted to look away because he felt like all at once the building could crumble to pieces and consume you with it, there was no saving the building; and quite possibly you. 

“Wh-gent-hu?” Bucky had walked too far away from the building and the coms, all of them were close to low battery because of the last mission. Bucky ran towards the building and couldn’t see anyone on the roof, but as he ran closer the clearer the coms got. “Where-agent-I can’t-what is happ-sto-!” It was three different voices screaming together at once, Bucky whipped the doors open and saw just how much the inside changed. 

The walls weren’t a sophisticated grey anymore but rather charred and black, there was no roof, at all. Bucky ran into the common room to find everyone looking under fallen planks and bars of steel, he started lifting them too. Everyone was running around and screaming at eachother, everyone had a different level of injury. Steve was throwing support beams like nothing, Bucky ran over. “Who are we looking for, Steve?” 

Steve just looked at Bucky with tears falling down his face, his skin was brown with dirt but his tears left trails down his skin. “Bucky, man, I’m sorry…” Steve sniffled and covered his mouth. Natasha had walked over, her hands were shaking and clutching something close to her heart. 

“I think we have our answer,” Nat cried and handed Bucky the water bottles you introduced. 

“Who’s-” he was cut off when Bucky flipped the bottle to check the bottom, and there in your hand writing was your name, and a little heart next to it. 

Bucky felt as though his soul had just left his body, everyone was getting close to giving up the search for you. If your body would be found it would be a miracle for you to still be alive, your lungs would have been fried due to the smoke and a pillar could crush you like it was nothing. Sparks flew off of snapped electrical that could be electrocuting you at this moment, small fires still burned which could be living off our ashes, any of the pure destruction could be killing you. And yet people were giving up, by the look on Steve’s face Bucky knew he should as well. 

Time: 11:45am 

Date: September 23rd, 2024

“So you’re saying we have little squirt bottles, this is fucking great!” Sam laughed, he looked at the clear bottle that was shaped into a big teardrop, the kind marathon runners keep on their belt. He pulled a sharpie out of his pocket and wrote his name. 

You sat next to Bucky who was still feeling the effects of the last mission, it was at a Hydra base to just get intel but even then, it was still hard. Everyone got back a day ago and decided to push the debrief for the next day because of the shared exhaustion. Bucky slept for twelve hours because of it. 

“Do you like them?” you asked, referencing the bottles, you both held yours as you waited for the marker to be passed to you. 

“Anything you do, I like, sweetheart.” Bucky pulled you into his side and cuddled with you for a bit, he had always found your touch was a good way to stay grounded. Your heart beat could be felt anywhere, and Bucky would always try and match it. The marker was passed to you both and you wrote your names, a little heart found its home next to the last letter of your name, Bucky could only smile wide and shake his head and he took the marker and wrote his. 

You and Bucky made your way back to your shared room before cuddling up in bed, a movie was thrown on and you both watched it as your eyes started to close. Bucky was awake, he kept looking down at your head on his shoulder to leave a little kiss, he’d always let his lips linger on the top of your head so he could smell your shampoo. Normally you were clinging to him for warmth but he could feel you were radiating heat, your sweater was actually his and the covers were tucked to you and Bucky got the edge, this wasn’t new for him. You were almost asleep but still every minute or so you’d subconsciously snuggle your cheek deeper into Bucky’s shoulder, small little circles in Bucky’s shoulder as you got more comfy. 

Bucky ended up falling asleep too, it was weird when he would wake and realize how vulnerable he was to be asleep with you beside him and the door unlocked, he would smile at himself and make a mental note to bring it up to his therapist that he slept soundly again. Bucky probably could’ve gone the entire night but was woken up by a hard time breathing, something was caught in his throat so his cough woke him up. Then his dry cough woke you up, right away your nose turned up at the smell. 

“Smells like burnt,” you said and stood up, a couple joints popping back into place. 

“Ya, that’s what it was,” Bucky nodded, he pulled his shirt over his nose. 

“Wanda needs to leave Nat alone with the cooking thing, Nat doesn’t like to cook so I don’t know why Wanda keeps bugging her, right?” you turned back to Bucky, he was nodding along. “Everyone has their thing, cooking isn’t Nat’s thing but that's fine,” you sighed, “I’m gonna actually talk to Wanda about-” 

Three bangs landed right on your door, you jumped back from it and Bucky stood up. Two guns were pulled out of the bedside tables, Bucky tossed one of them to you. The banging went again and it wasn’t a friendly bang, you both knew this wasn’t one of your friends. The safety of the guns were both pulled back with a ticking sound, Bucky put his clip in his gun, you like to use a revolver and it was already ready. The top hinge blew off and the door slightly fell forward, the lights were off and the emergency ones gave little light, there was smoke crawling through the cracks in the door. Bucky had made his way to the other side of the bed to you, now you were both in front of the door. 

“Who do you think it is?” You whispered to him, your shoulders rubbed against his with quick breathes. 

“No idea,” Bucky muttered back, his lips barely moved. 

The door busted down and because you both were ready the guy didn’t stand a chance, the intruder fell back in an instant at the rapid fire from the guns, the sound would be as loud as the banging on the door. The intruder wasn’t even ready to fire, his gun flipped out of his holster and slid a tiny bit on the tile floors before stopping. The emergency lights hit the silver gun perfectly, you noticed red on it but it didn’t look like blood, there was some type of symbol or branding on it. You slowly walked closer, your bare feet not giving away you were moving in case someone was waiting before the threshold of the door. 

“Bucky…” you whispered and turned to him, “you gotta get out of here,” you slowly bent down and picked up the gun, the Hydra symbol was hard to see now that it was not getting any light. Bucky’s nostrils flared as a way to hide what he was feeling, his mouth opened to try and talk this through but the sounds of coughing, guns, and screams took its place. 

You both ran to the common room, everyone was there, fighting an agent. Coming from a third angle you took out some of the agents with your gun, they didn’t see it coming; neither did Nat as she pointed her gun in your direction. 

“They want their intel back, go to the computers!” Steve screamed, you turned and ran. 

Bucky joined the fight in the common room, he kept looking back to see you getting smaller and smaller down the hall. All he had was his gun and a knife he picked up from his dresser, both were used as more and more Hydra agents ran in and came from the ceiling that was falling apart. 

You turned quickly into the room, computers and wires everywhere. Your time was spent in the training room rather than here, but you logged in mission reports on the computers. Hard drives of every mission, every person, and every thing were connected everywhere. Tons of information that could give Hydra the upperhand, there were still hard drives you had just stolen from Hydra that no one had looked into yet. This was all they wanted, but it was weird to see how many agents were coming in and not making their way to the intel room. You stood on guard with your gun out and ready, you weren’t wearing anything protective so you stood behind an old computer that was yet to be thrown out. 

A man walked in, he was tall and slim. Brown hair curled down to his shoulders and his eyes were a dark green, they pierced right through you. You were about to shoot but he just put out his hand, his index finger coming up and wagging you off. “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned, his voice was like gravel. 

“Why not?” You grunted, finger ready on the trigger. 

He didn’t even reach for his gun, his hands out in front of him. “Because, you’d never shoot the messenger, would you?” His hands lowered but he kept them out. You slowly lowered your gun but kept your hands ready, fingers still holding the trigger. “I came on my own terms, no leader sent me,” He added and pulled a chair out. 

“Out with it, I don’t need your cryptic bullshit!” your gun was raised again, “hands up!” 

He raised them, “we don’t want intel.” 

“What?” 

“You stole our intel, that’s fine.” his nose stuffed up, “but you steal our weapon, rid him of his purpose...then we have an issue.”  

“He’s not a weapon!” you knew exactly who they were talking about, “and we didn’t steal him, we saved him, we saved Bucky!” you yelled again, tears gathering in your eyes. 

The man sat back on his chair, “I don’t care at this point, none of us do, you either give us our Winter Soldier or we will burn this place to the ground.” He stood to size you up, “the message has been given, shoot me if you want, I heard humans are flammable so I’d help burn this place-” 

The man's brain flew out and hit the walls, blood sprayed over you and the computers. His knees folded in and the hole in his head slammed against the floor, you should have let him suffer but he probably was working for Hydra, and that’s suffering everyday. The man’s skin whitened in a matter of seconds, all the blood rushing out of that one spot was getting near the electrical, so you ran back to the common room. 

Bucky was there, “most of them went to the roof, we got it down here!” He screamed. 

“They’re after you!” you yelled and shot a few agents down, “this isn’t intel, they want you Bucky!” The smoke was flying up and with all the fast movements, it was getting harder to see him, but you saw the metal arm in the reflection. 

“It doesn’t matter, I’m staying here!” He stopped to reload, but you knocked someone down and turned to face him. 

“Bucky, I swear to fucking god-” You threw the person you just knocked out onto the ground of the common room, “you have to get out of here, It’s you or this entire building!” Bucky gave you a sympathetic look as you fought off Hydra agents, your gun fired three shots behind you to another agent you sensed running up. 

“But I can’t leave you!” Bucky screamed back over the fire and bullets, Hydra agents were running in from every which way. The smoke rising made it harder for him to see you and Sam, who was also there a couple seconds ago. Everyone else was trying to stop the agents from the outside or other levels. It was a complete break-in. 

“Fuck all that Bucky, I love you but I can’t love you if you’re dead- Fuck!” You screamed in pure anger as you began hand to hand combat with an agent, he wasn’t good at all so it was a quick take down. “James!” you looked over to just see him standing there, his eyes were watery from the pain and smoke, “you need to fucking leave! Run!” you shouted, waving him off. 

 Bucky took off but as he ran away, right before you lost sight of him, an arm wrapped tightly around your neck. You couldn’t see a face but you heard a voice, “he’ll turn himself in if he knows we have you, now this will hurt.” the butt of a gun slammed your temple, all you saw was black. 

Time: unknown 

Date: unknown

Your head hurt so bad, right as you were waking up it was a pulsing ache everywhere from between your eyes to your neck. It felt like waves, for a moment the pressure would drop but then slowly crawl back in, nothing was rigid. In the room you found yourself in there wasn’t much to register, just a cell that was a little longer than arm's length and some black box on the ceiling, it wasn’t a light but it seemed to hold something. There was no bed as well, you were sat up against the wall in a corner. As you moved to look around your neck all the way down to your knees ached; not to mention the pressure building in your head. It felt like you had been struck in the back of the head even though you thought it was in your temple when you were knocked out, your hand cupped high on your neck, right where your hair started. There was a sting and you pulled away with a hiss, a few pieces of scab came with it. 

There were no windows, no source of light to see what time it was. But the fact that whatever cut was made to the back of your head was a fully scabbed and not bleeding gave away you had been asleep for a bit, that almost made it worse. 

“Welcome, Soldat,” a voice with an accent came through, it was one you couldn’t figure out. “It seems our other weapon got away, we were gifted you instead; we are happy about it no less.'' the voice was coming from a speaker in the top left corner, not the black box directly above you. 

“Where am I?” your voice sounded like sandpaper. 

“In your cell,” you could hear the smirk, “but you’re not in Avenger’s territory anymore, would you like to know where you are?” he didn’t wait for you to answer, “I’ll give it to you if you follow this simple task, would you mind getting on your knees?” the voice asked, you stayed still, “right, I forgot. Soldat, get on your knees.” right away your knees smashed into the concrete floor. “Would you look at that, how pretty?” 

“What that fuck?” you gasped out, your hands folded neatly on your lap as you sat back on your calves. 

“Now that we know your abilities, you’re in Iceland, Hydra gifted us you.” 

“You’re not Hydra?” you asked, this time louder and looking at the speaker. 

“Oh, we are Hydra.” the voice laughed, “just not how you think we are...” 

Time: 9:59pm

Date: September 27th, 2024

Bucky didn’t know how long he’d been curled in his bed with the curtains drawn, there was no perception of time at all. All he did was cry, all day. His body ached and crumbled into itself more and more as time went on. Everyone was mourning the loss of a friend, but to Bucky it was a lover. He held the picture you framed after your first date as a couple, that was one of the first times Bucky had truly smiled. 

You both went to a really nice restaurant and when you were finished you waiter offered to take a picture because they saw you getting self conscious when your arm was up to take a selfie. The both of you leaned over the table and close to one another, right before the picture was taken Bucky reached over and placed his metal hand over yours, allowing it to be seen in the picture. It was something he regretted but after you framed it and kept it on your side of the bed, Bucky looked at it everyday with a smile. 

The picture was still in the frame but it wasn’t on the bedside anymore, rather pushed up against Bucky’s chest. He’d pull it away to look at you from time to time, after picturing all the good times with you, your face seemed to change and warp until it wasn’t you. Bucky would run his finger down the glass and try to imagine the feeling of your skin again, he’d lost almost everyone in his life, all he wanted was to feel you one last time if it really was your time to go. Your smile was so bright it lit up the pitch black room he was crying in, your smile and your personality could keep an entire country running for years. 

He ran out of salty tears and all that was left was wheezing and rocking back and forth in his bed, the emotions were working him out, sweat lines the neck rim of his t-shirt, but he’d also use the neck line to wipe the tears that slipped past his nose and lips. They would roll down and hit his pillow, he had already flipped it to get a dry surface. 

Steve walked in, he didn’t need to knock because he knew what’s coming. Steve had watched you and Bucky grow from barely speaking to napping on the couch for everyone to see, it took a while but Steve knew from the beginning that you were perfect for him. Steve brought Bucky a sandwich everyday at noon because he refused to eat dinner and breakfast. Some days he wouldn’t eat at all but noon seemed to be the best time for him to eat everything. 

“Wanda made it today actually, she added some chips on the side and made it real nice, Buck,” Steve went to the windows and opened the blinds, he did that everyday but  when he would come back 24 hours later they’d be closed. “I also have news, about y/n…” 

Steve saw for the first time in four days Bucky sit up, he saw the grief fade and a small shred of hope appear.

A/n: if you want to be tagged in this series let me know through an ask or anything!

#bucky series #bucky barnes series #bucky #Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader

[bbyboybucket]

*sighs* I didn’t wanna do this today besties, but IF I SEE ONE MORE FUCKING PERSON, ONE MORE EDIT, ONE MORE ANYTHING ATTACKING SAM FOR THE THERAPY SCENE IMMA LOSE MY MIND. I don’t know why specifically today, but I swear my fyp has given me like 4 videos of the therapy scene between Sam and Bucky, attacking Sam and talking about how “mean he was to Bucky”.

Literally people out here saying, “he hurt Bucky’s feelings so much and Bucky had to act like he didn’t 🥺” “Sam was all he had left, he was his only friend and betrayed him by saying he didn’t wanna see him again 🥺” “Sam was acting like Steve did when he left Bucky” “Sam was being so mean to him and I felt so bad” Those are just SOME of the comments from ONE VIDEO.

I can’t with y’all bc how many times do we gotta go over this? Sam didn’t do shit wrong here. So what, he said he didn’t wanna see Bucky again after the mission? That’s the only thing even remotely “mean” that he did the whole time. And truthfully, I’d say the same damn thing. Y’all are acting like Sam betrayed their friendship somehow by saying that. But literally, at that point, they weren’t even friends?

They barely knew each other outside of Steve. Sam was the one who’d been reaching out to Bucky for months only to get ignored. He put in effort to be Bucky’s friend, or even just an acquaintance and Bucky was shutting him down. They weren’t friends and the reason why was literally Bucky.

Then, the whole reason the argument was even happening is because Bucky had been on an angry rampage for days, directing that anger at Sam and being an absolute dick to him. Imagine if you’d been trying to be nice to someone, only for them to completely ignore you, then one day they just show up at your work place, going off on you. Would you not be pissed?

Then Bucky tags along on that mission and keeps on making comments, being passive aggressive, etc. Sam had been very patient with Bucky, repeatedly brushing off his attacks and letting it go. The poor guy could only take so much shit before he let a little anger out. Also, in the realms of how unfair this was to Sam, he’d already been incredibly stressed over the decision before, he had a lot of personal issues he was dealing with, he just found out about Isiah, and two cops just treated him shitty based on his race. And Bucky just keeps adding on to it with his drama.

He had every right to get snappy in that moment. And truthfully, what he said wasn’t even that bad. Literally all he did was be like, “let’s just get our work done and if you wanna keep being mad at me, you don’t have to be around me anymore when we’re done.” It’s not like he was out here being malicious. And you know what? It may have hurt his feeling a tiny bit (I doubt it really did tho) but I guarantee you that Bucky had hurt Sam a lot more, and on multiple occasions too.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of sympathy for Bucky in that scene, truly, but that sympathy doesn’t come from Sam “mistreating him”. It comes from the obvious turmoil in his head and self esteem issues. So as much as it’s okay to feel bad for him in that sense, it’s absolutely not okay to twist things into making him a victim in the situation.

Bucky was a being selfish asshole. 100%. His feelings about the shield were valid, it’s understandable why he was so upset. But that’s not an excuse for him to lash out at Sam. He quite literally was taking out his own issues on Sam and that’s not okay at all. Bucky had the completely wrong approach to voicing his feelings. He even acknowledged this TWICE. Once in that scene, when he asks about rule number two, because he realized he’d hurt Sam. And then at the end of episode 5 (I think it was 5) when he actively apologized for his shitty behavior and not being considerate of Sam’s feelings.

If the character himself can realize he was being problematic, then why can’t fans? Y’all are literally taking shit out of context and ignoring other significant lines/scenes to fit your own agendas. There’s absolutely no damn reason to demonize Sam in that scene or in any way at all. If you really think he was doing something wrong, you missed the whole point of his character arc and are completely misunderstanding the purpose of that scene. The scene was written to shed light onto both of their feelings and inner struggles.

We were supposed to sympathize with both of them for different reasons. What was not supposed to happen, is misconstruing Sam’s very valid feelings so you can woobify Bucky more. It doesn’t even make sense to act like Sam is somehow bad. As I’ve said multiple times, he did nothing. The whole scene was meant to point out that Bucky was in the wrong. Literally, Bucky was written to be a dick for both of their character developments. The purpose of Bucky’s rant, the “if he was wrong about you then he was wrong about me” speech, was to emphasize his selfish, rude behavior. Even if it was showing that it stemmed from insecurity, we still are supposed to see how wrong Bucky is. There’s no reason to see him as innocent here, Sam is the innocent one.

So I’ve said this before, I’m saying it now, and I’ll sadly probably have to say it again, but can yall seriously quit with the slander of Sam and other characters in the name of Bucky? Because it’s annoying, disrespectful, and complete bullshit. You have 10 million real reasons to feel sorry for him, you don’t need to make up shit and tear down other, innocent characters for more.

#Bucky stans can be so annoying #like pls sit down and shut up #appreciate the wonderful friendship they have now #instead of hating Sam for your stupid nonsensical benefit #anyways #stan Sam forever #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Captain america #TFATWS #CAATWS #anti bucky stans #not all of you tho I love some of you

[heliads]

Deserve You

Based on this request: “Bucky imagine where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good at all for him even though he loves you more than anything. one time he comes from a mission to you waiting in his room, doubting again but he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then? :)”

masterlist

You open your eyes gradually, the last remnants of sleep being dragged away by the brightness of dawn. You allow yourself one final moment of lingering silence before sitting up with a yawn. A brief spurt of panic flashes across you when you realize that you’re alone in your bed, but then you hear a quiet noise from the kitchen and your pulse begins to settle once more. Bucky must have already gotten up, there’s no need to worry.

You keep having moments like this, where you turn to find yourself alone and keep thinking that this is it, that he’s finally left you. Then you mentally chide yourself for thinking that way- every single one of the Avengers that you’ve met on your trips to the old Stark Tower keeps talking about how Bucky’s head over heels for you, so why would he ghost you out of nowhere? You always smile for a second, thinking about your boyfriend, and then the doubt creeps back in and you glance around to find him. Every single time, without fail, those lurking remnants of doubt always worm back into your mind, and sometimes it feels like there’s nothing you can do to get rid of them.

The only available option is to find Bucky and put your mind at ease by knowing that he’s still here. So, you slide your legs out of the still-warm blankets, grimacing at the shock of the cold air, and pad over to the kitchen. Sure enough, Bucky is holding a mug of some hot beverage, maybe coffee or tea, and staring out the window at the city below him. He does this, sometimes, just watches the city like he could do it for hours. You have a feeling that he’s studying the city for any last lingering resemblance to the New York he’d grown up in, when the most pressing news was World War II and he didn’t see himself in Siberia for anything more than a ski trip, if he could put together enough pennies to afford it. However, life has a way of throwing you for a loop, and all of Bucky’s plans for the future evaporated as soon as he plummeted from the train all those years ago.

Bucky turns when he hears you approach. “Good morning.” You smile, joining him by the window. “Good morning yourself. Are you up early for an assignment or because of a nightmare?” Bucky frowns. “The latter. Did I wake you? I thought I was quiet.” You shake your head. “No, I was asleep the whole time. I just knew because you have that same look on your face after you have your nightmares.” Bucky laughs quietly. “And here I thought I was supposed to be the spy who knew everything. Sure you don’t want a job at S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not sure that paying attention to my boyfriend really qualifies me for FBI: Avengers Edition, but I’ll keep it in mind.” You head over to the fridge, starting to pull out some items for breakfast. Bucky leaves within a few minutes, mumbling something about an early morning meeting, and you head to work yourself soon after. Your own workplace is no Avengers Tower, just a typical office building, and you slide into your seat just in time to start the day.

The morning itself is fairly uneventful, and you’re just starting to think that it’s going to be another boring day as usual when you head off to your lunch break. As you’re waiting in line to use the microwave, you hear a pair of women talking at a table near you. You had no intention of eavesdropping, but although their voices are fairly loud your attention was hooked from the beginning when you realize they’re talking about Bucky. More specifically, they’re talking about Bucky’s girlfriend, or lack thereof.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, he had been careful to keep you out of the public eye. When you work as an Avenger for long enough, you learn to keep everyone important to you out of focus, out of danger. If a HYDRA agent got word of the former Winter Soldier’s girlfriend, you’d be on a train to Siberia with handcuffs and a blindfold within the hour, a ransom request already placed on your head. That’s if they were patient- if not, they would just shoot you to send a message. By making sure nobody heard about you, Bucky could keep you safe.

The downside of this is times like now, when you have to listen to two of your coworkers discussing how strange it is that a man as attractive as James Barnes would still be single. Obviously, you can’t say anything, and you’re not sure that they’d believe you if you tried, but it’s still slightly uncomfortable to hear the conversation swirling around you even as you have to stay silent. 

One of the women clicks her tongue in confusion. “I mean, isn’t it weird, though? He’s a friend of Tony Stark, there’s no doubt he’d have a shortage of girls who’d be willing to go out to a bar or something on a weekend.” The other woman laughs. “I bet that surplus of girls includes you, right?” The first woman grins cheekily. “I wouldn’t say no if he asked, but even I don’t have a chance. I mean, he’s an Avenger, and one of the hottest ones there. No one here could hold a candle to him. He saves lives on a daily basis and what do we do, sit around all the time? The only woman I could see him with is an agent or maybe Black Widow. At least then he’d be dating someone who’s his equal.”

The words feel like shards of ice threading through your heart, and you turn to go back to your desk, hunger suddenly forgotten. As you stare at your work, though, you find you can’t concentrate. You keep hearing what the women had said, that no one in this miserable office could be worthy of dating the famous Avenger Bucky Barnes. They’re right, aren’t they? Bucky was saving lives all the time while you complained and acted so needy. You sigh to yourself, feeling your spirits dampen by the second. Why did Bucky see in you anyway?

Bucky’s shoulders feel like they’ve been carved from stone. He’s been tense for so long that he’s certain he’ll never be able to move again. Today is the day that he has to begin reviewing case files from his time as a Winter Soldier. He’ll have to come face to face with photo and video evidence of all the wrongs he’s done, of all the killings and blood shed by his own damaged hands. He’s been trying to avoid it for a while, but S.H.I.E.L.D. needs his input on all of the past Winter Soldier missions in order to proceed with the ongoing investigations into the last HYDRA strongholds. Bucky has no choice but to confront his past, he knows that, but it doesn’t make his job any easier.

It’s not like he’s alone, though. Natasha is here, because her experience with the Red Room could prove useful with putting together some pieces of the HYDRA-Siberia-Soviet puzzle that’s been plaguing them for some time now. Steve is also here, one door down, looking at his old medical files that detail exactly how some brilliant scientists turned a scrawny kid with a death wish when it came to standing up to bullies into the strongest man of the century. 

Bucky clenches his jaw, and turns back to the manila file folder in his hand. He flips it open, taking out the diagrams and security camera stills and laying them out onto the table before him as he reads. He’s flipping through the rest of the contents of the folder when he pauses, staring at the images awaiting his acknowledgement. Natasha sees him freeze slightly and glances over to see what’s troubling him. Her brow dips in understanding.

Lying before him are photo after photo of death and destruction. Bucky remembers this day now, after it was buried so long under HYDRA mind wipes and his own crippling want to forget. The bodies of the dead line a small street, buildings reduced to rubble. He can see the dead, so many of them. There aren’t just the few military commanders he was sent to exterminate- no, HYDRA wants no witnesses and so Bucky had killed everyone in sight. There are children in pools of blood, their mothers reaching over them as if to shield them from the inevitable bullets coming their way. He tells himself that their deaths were quick, efficient, maybe even painless, but it is not enough. There is no way to justify this amount of bloodshed.

Natasha puts her hand on his shoulder. The gesture, meant to bring comfort, startles him and it takes all of Bucky’s self-control to not flinch. Bucky swallows hard. “I did all of this. I killed every one of them.” Natasha’s voice is low and quiet. “It wasn’t you. You had no choice in any of this.” Bucky laughs, thought it is heavy with horror and breaks in upon itself. “It’s easier to say that, but it was still my hand pulling the trigger.” He leans back against the wall, trying to steady himself.

“How were you and Steve able to convince anyone to trust me? Why did you even want to save me in the first place?” Natasha stares at the photos, taking in the broken bodies of the dead. “Steve knew the real you, the one who’s standing here right now and would never attempt this sort of carnage. I knew what it was like to lose all control and feel like your hands would always be stained with blood. Second chances are more powerful than you might think.”

Bucky shakes his head slowly. “I don’t deserve that chance. I don’t deserve any of this.” He closes his eyes for just a second as if by blocking out the world he can block out the memory of the methodical shudder of the rifle in his hands, the recoil as he fired again and again. “I don’t deserve Y/N. She-” Natasha cuts him off smoothly. “Y/N knows what you’ve been through, and she knows that you are not that same man. I’ve spoken with her before, and she knows the full extent of what you did.”

Bucky’s eyes cut back to the photographs. “Then why does she stay?” Natasha’s gaze feels like a leaden weight, unflinching and unyielding. “She stays because she loves you. She stays because she knows that the real Bucky Barnes is a hero, someone who is willing and able to move on from their past. Y/N is one of the most important parts of your life, not because she’s a good kisser but because she’s one of the only people who can see straight through you and know that you’re a good man.” 

Bucky nods. “I don’t need you to tell me twice.” Natasha’s right, though, and even the barest mention of Y/N brings back a wave of good memories to fight against the bad. She’s like an anchor, someone holding him in place even when all of the darkness he’s had to endure threatens to pull him under. It astonishes him sometimes that he still wakes up beside her every morning. She’s so perfect, so wonderful. What does Y/N see in him anyway that would make him so lucky to have her with him?

You’re in a despondent mood for the rest of the day. You slump home, not even bothering to turn on the lights but discarding your coat and bag in the dark of the room. The faint light still shining through the windows is all you’ll need. You stare unthinkingly at the apartment for a while, then head to your bedroom. As you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you stop with a sigh, leaning your hands against the dresser underneath.

You stare at yourself, at the dark circles under your eyes. Who are you, anyway? Who are you to think that you would ever be good enough for an Avenger? At this point, it’s only a matter of days before he breaks up with you. No wonder he keeps waking up before you- he’s trying to leave without seeing you that often, as a way to lessen the blow of the eventual goodbye.

The problem about gloomy thoughts is that they tend to wrap around you, pulling you away from everything else. You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the front door open, and you don’t notice Bucky enter the apartment until he knocks softly on the wall of your bedroom as he stands in the open door. You turn around with a flash, plastering on a smile, but your reaction is too late and his brow furrows. “Are you alright?”

You try for a smile, reaching out to kiss him in greeting. “Of course I am. How was your day?” Bucky is not to be deterred. “I saw your face, Y/N. You looked really upset. Is everything okay?” Maybe it’s that velvet tone of his, or the concern laced in his eyes, but your few fragile defenses break down. You turn to him, fighting back tears. “Why are you still with me?” Bucky frowns. “What?” You hold your hands up uselessly. “You’re an Avenger and you’re out there saving lives all the time. Why would you ever be interested in some girl from the city? I’m not half the person you are.”

Bucky stares at you for a second, then wraps his arms around you, drawing you close. “Y/N, love, why would you ever think that?” You look away. “Because it’s true. You should be dating some other superhero of a woman who could be your equal.” Bucky’s frown tinges slightly with anger. “Did you hear about this on some news show? I told that one news outlet that if they said a single thing about me I’d shut them down, and I’ll do it-” You cut him off. “It’s not like that. It’s just- You’re an Avenger, Bucky, and you deserve someone equally as brave as you are.”

Bucky guides you gently over to the bed, and the two of you sit down on the edge. He pulls you into his arms. “I don’t want some superhero. I want you. Y/N, I love you because you’re the only one here who sees me for who I really am, not just some soulless Avenger but a faulty person. Honestly, if anything I’m surprised that you’d still stay with me.” Your tears dry up as you stare at him. “What?” A quiet smile spreads across Bucky’s lips. “Every single day, I come home and you make a difficult day a thousand times better. You know me better than I know myself, and even despite everything I’ve done and the monster I’ve been, you still make me feel like a good man again. You’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met, Y/N, and you deserve someone equally as good as you are.”

You shake your head slowly. “That’s not the same. Anyone can be nice.” Bucky cups your cheek in his hand. “Nobody else knows that I always get up in the mornings and pace around because of the nightmares. Nobody else knows that I always stare down the alleyways on the walk home because I keep thinking I’ll see Steve in there getting beat up, or help me pick out jackets based on how easy it will be to remove the left sleeve. You’re the only one for me, doll, and I wouldn’t trade you for a heartbeat.”

He reaches into a pocket. “Here, I’ll prove it.” He takes out something silvery, like stamped metal. With a jolt, you realize they’re his dog tags, the ones he had from fighting in World War II all those years ago. He gestures for you to turn around and you do, feeling the weight of the metal around your throat as he fastens them. When you look back at him, he’s smiling. “See? You can’t get rid of me, love. Not in a million years.” 

You smile, running your fingers over the faded lettering. “Won’t you want them? You know, as a memory of your old life?” Bucky shakes his head, a content expression lingering in his eyes. “I don’t need them to remember. I’ve got you, and you’re the only home I’ll ever need.” When he kisses you again, you can feel the dog tags right over your heart, like a promise that he’ll always be with you, no matter what.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier x reader #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #tfatws #tfatws imagines #tfatws x reader #catws #catws imagines

[rebeccccccaaa]

🅑🅐🅓 🅑🅞🅨

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🅢🅣🅔🅥🅔 🅡🅞🅖🅔🅡🅢 🅧 🅡🅔🅐🅓🅔🅡

🅡🅔🅠🅤🅔🅢🅣: Aa, idk if your requests are open, but I *love* you sex pollen fics! I was wondering if you'd be able to write one with a dom reader? I don't mind what character, but they get affected by the pollen and are really subby ect? ❤️✨

🅦🅐🅡🅝🅘🅝🅖🅢: brief graphic violence, Smut 18+ (slight bondage, degradation, begging, dom!reader, edging, male masterbation, overstimulation, mommy kink, dom/sub), kinda fluffy aftercare for steve 

🅐🅤🅣🅗🅞🅡’🅢 🅝🅞🅣🅔: girl i am not dominant! omlll i hope this was ok, i really tried to step out of my comfort zone a bit with this one but i don’t know if it’s dommy enough :( but i hope it’s what you were hoping for :) it’s long but i think it’s worth the read teehee

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“Steve are you alright?” you asked him as he emerged from the greenhouse. He was thrown through the glass roof by high tech Hydra weapons. There was yellow dust clouding his nose and eyes and it looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah, let’s finish this mission and get back!” he started running with you.

Hydra agents flooding in the room stalling you and Steve from getting back to the quinjet. As you were fighting you looked over to Steve to make sure he was still doing alright, you noticed how much more aggressive he was fighting. He smashed their heads in and broke their bones; it was much more violent than how Steve normally fought. 

That was something you expected from Nat or Bucky, their lives were violent before the Avengers but Steve was all about stealth and less casualties so seeing him so brutal and cruel was somewhat frightening. 

“Steve. Steve!” you pulled him from his rampage.

“What!”

“What’s going on?” you yelled.

“Nothing! Let’s just get back to the quinjet,” he huffed and left.

The ride back home was quiet except for the heavy breathing and grunting that came from Steve practically every minute. You wanted to yell at him for being an annoying little shit but you knew he would rip you apart if you yelled at him again.

Suddenly you received a phone coming in from Tony Stark.

“Hey Tony. We’re on our way back already,” you said.

“Good. We uh, we noticed the Hydra Greenhouse was destroyed, did either you guys go in there or fight anyone in there?” he asked; one the Shield agents reported it to the Avengers Tower.

“Oh yeah Steve was thrown in there through the roof but he's fine now, I think. He’s being extra mean to me though,” you sassed, making Steve roll his eyes as he was eavesdropping.

“Mean? How?” Tony asked.

“Well, he’s being really aggressive. Dude got so angry all of the sudden,” you responded.

“Ok, we’ll talk again you guys get back,” he said and hung up.

When you guys landed Steve had a stern expression and walked uncomfortably to the lab where Tony and the rest of the team were waiting. You and Steve had been sent on the mission alone and it seems like something happened that everyone but you two were aware of.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Tony and Bruce walked up to Steve and inspected his face. He still had bits of golden pollen stuck to his eyelashes and the tip of his nose. Steve swatted Tony’s hand away and practically growled in anger. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle bulged from his head.

“He got hit,” Thor said.

“Got hit with what?” Steve saidly rudely. 

“The pollen. Hydra confided a greenhouse in Moscow, where you guys were, to experiment on a specific species of flowers found in other galaxies for… breeding. It makes the victim completely lust driven until they well, breed,” Bruce explained. 

“What?” you started laughing.

“Is he gonna be impossibly horny now?” you smirked, making Steve roll his eyes.

“The effects can be detrimental to humans when untreated but since Steve has the super soldier serum I’m not sure what could happen,” Thor spoke up.

“How are you feeling Steve?” Nat asked, walking up to him.

“I’m fine,” Steve said.

“Maybe we should take some tests?” Bruce asked. 

“No, no, no! Guys I’m fine,” Steve bargain.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked him.

“Yeah, if I start feeling weird, I’ll come back to the lab, deal?” he said; everyone was skeptical about him considering you reported that Steve became suddenly more aggressive than ever before. It might’ve had something to do with the effects of the pollen.

“Maybe you should just stay. Tony and Bruce can monitor you and you won’t-”

“Nat, I’ll be fine,” Steve interrupted. 

“Ok.”

Steve wasn’t fine.

It’s been a few hours since you and Steve got back from the mission and Steve was in excruciating pain. He felt so embarrassed he could even walk to the door without desperately wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. 

He had a boner and there was no way in a million years Steve was gonna let anyone catch him like that. Steve spent almost two hours in the shower alone fisting his cock desperate to cum and make it go away but nothing was working.

He even thought about you and you were getting him close but to have you in person would’ve been the cherry on top. Since the stupid enter his system images and thoughts of you and you alone were the only thing he could think about. But there was no way you’d ever have sex with him, even if his life depended on it. 

Steve wasn’t really particularly nice to you. And today especially the pollen making him horny as fuck for you made easily aggitated because he could’t get a release. And the serum amplified everything, so he got instantly hit with the effects but played it off thinking it wasn’t going to feel this awful by now. 

But again, that didn’t stop him from thinking about your body and how beautiful you were to him; even way before today. Steve always thought relationships should stay out of a workplace especially one so demanding like yours. He knew it was stupid because Wanda and Vision were doing alright, and so was Tony and Pepper. 

He told himself that only because his relationship with Sharon was quite awful. But he wanted to try again and try a relationship with you. He wanted to make you laugh, wake up next to you and make breakfast with you together. Maybe even dominate him? Steve had always wanted to try that but Sharon was very vanilla; and you were quite the controlling person, it was sexy as hell he thought.

A knock on the door pulled him out his thoughts of you. He pulled his sweatpants up and opened the door just a crack to avoid practically flashing his guest with his very prominent boner. 

“Hey just checking in. it’s been a while since you left the lab, and no one’s seen you come out of your room,” it was you. Steve almost moaned at the sight of you but kept somewhat composure processing what you were saying. 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he stuttered. 

“You’re alright?” you said condescendingly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he pushed out.

“You’re fine,” you whispered, crossing your arms.

“You know the walls are thin,” you smirked.

The small smile on his face dropped because he was sure that you heard his little escapades in the shower. 

“So here’s my offer, since it was my name you were so desperately moaning I can either fix your little, well, big problem or I can walk away and tell Tony and everyone else that not only are you experiencing the symptoms of the sex pollen plant that you supposed notify Tony and Bruce in the first place but that you’re also so desperate to fuck me as much as you pretend to deny it,” you spoke smoothly. 

Steve breathed out heavily before opening the door defeated letting you in. You smirked excitedly walking into Steve’s room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t completely head over heels for the guy. And that beard you convinced him to grow wasn’t helping your attraction either.

“Strip,” you commanded.

“Pardon?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Steve, oh baby, tsk, tsk, tsk,” you shook your head, walking up to 

“What?”

“You're going to do everything that I ask you to do and the minute you disobey me, I walk out and let you suffer,” you whispered to him, “Got it?”

He nodded. Probably more eager than he meant it to be, which made you giggle.

“So as I said before, strip,” you repeated.

Steve took his shirt off followed by his sweats leaving him in his boxers in front of you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” you said sternly.

Steve took his boxers off leaving him completely in the nude; his cock stood tall against his stomach and you were impressed. The sight of him made you grow wet but you are so going to have your fun with him before you even think about taking even your shirt off.

“Get on your knees,” you told him.

Steve didn’t hesitate to kneel in front of you; his dick getting harder with each passing second. The pollen started to affect his mind more now that you were in his proximity. His mind was getting cloudy and all he could start to think about was your delicious scent that made him want to simply ravish you unconditionally. 

“How are you feeling?” you mocked him.

“Please,” he whimpered. 

“Please what?” 

“Please touch me,” he begged. 

“Aw, you want me to touch you? Like a little slut? Huh?”

Your words made him whimper and moan.

“Well, someone was being a bad boy today. First you yelled at me when I was trying to help, then you lied to Tony who was also trying to help, and then I find out about your pathetic little crush on me. I don’t think you get what you want just yet, baby.”

You grabbed his chin and sat him on the bed you kneel in front of him, his dick in front of your face aching to be touched. Steve resisted the urge to move his hips towards as you resisted the urge to touch him and pleasure him. But like before, you wanted to have a bit of fun.

“Hm, I want you to keep begging me,” you stood up abruptly, making Steve whimper.

“Please, Y/n, I need you to touch, please it hurts.”

You squinted to eyes unimpressed.

“Mommy, please,” Steve’s hands reached out to you and pulled close. You almost got upset for him touching you without your permission but when he lifted your shirt and pressed delicate little kisses in your tummy you almost caved.

“Mommy; I like it,” you pushed his shoulders down so he laid on the bed. 

You walked back a bit putting distance in between you and took off your shirt leaving a bra on; one you had specifically put on because it made you feel the sexiest. Steve’s eyes widen slightly before drooping completely admiring the skin you put on display for him; even if it's just your shoulders and stomach for now.

“Touch yourself,” you commanded.

Steve reached down and quickly stroked his cock; his hands moving up and down rapidly chasing his release. You moved your hand to your breast and squeezed one just to tease Steve some more; biting your lip seductively.

Steve’s moans got louder and with you standing right there teasing him and mocking him, he was finally, after hours of trying to climax, he was finally reaching the edge. You watched him closely and when his hand began to stutter you spoke up.

“Stop.”

“What?” he breathed out. 

“You heard me.”

You did this for an hour and a half. Now you sat naked on the sofa chair in his room rubbing your fingers on your clit about to cum for the third time while Steve still had yet to cum. They were tears running down his distressed face. Whimpers and whines and moans choked out of him as he was being edged for far too long than he’d like.

“You ready, my fucking man whore,” you stalked up to him.

“Please, mommy. Please fuck me, I need so bad,” Steve reached for you with shaky hands.

“You’re so fucking cute when you beg,” you mocked, straddling his hips.

Steve’s hands rubbed your thighs and you lined his cock with your entrance. You sunk down and moaned already so sensitive from your previous orgasms. Your hands rested against Steve’s chest as he screwed his eye shut; an overwhelming sensation coming over him.

You rocked your hips back and forth rubbing your clit against his pelvis bringing you close to your final orgasm. Steve whimpered under you and moaned beautifully. His hips bucked up into you ferociously hitting a particular spot that made you moan loudly and high pitched.

“Fuck, Stevie. Your cock feels so good,” you leaned down to whisper.

“Fuck I’m so close,” he cried.

“You wanna come? You wanna come inside me?” you teased.

“Please mommy, let me come, please,” he begged.

“You gonna be a good boy if I do?” 

“Yes!”

“Go on, baby boy. Come for me.”

Steve came with a shout of your name and you felt the hot spurts of cum coating your walls making you come in time with him. Steve's chest had a layer of sweat of the flushed redden skin. He panted under you, his body shaking vigorously but his face had a small smile and his hands rubbed your back and cheeks when you fell forward after climaxing. 

“Holy fuck, I think that did it,” Steve chuckled.

“I had a great time,” you laughed. 

You got up and went to his bathroom to grab a washcloth soaked with warm water and a bit of soap. You went back to Steve cleaning his pelvis and dick that slick with yours and his cum. His body was still trembling but not as drastic as before, and when you placed the warm washcloth on his skin his body jerked lightly.

As you cleaned him you pressed soft kisses to his stomach and chest making him sigh in content. You went back and cleaned yourself privately and came out with a new washcloth slightly less warm to cool his skin down since his body got very hot from being edged for the past hour and half and not even being able to get close all day before you came. 

He stayed still, eyes focused to the ceiling feeling solace by your soft touch cleaning him up. When you finished you gathered your clothes to dress yourself so you could leave him to rest and then the next pretend like nothing of this happened.

“Hey wait,” he said, making you look at him trying your best to cover your modesty. You played a part and now that the small agreement was over you felt a bit shy under Steve’s gaze who still looked at you lustfully.

“Don’t you wanna stay?” he said softly.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” you smiled sadly. You did genuinely like him; even when he wasn’t particularly nice to you sometimes. But you didn’t think he felt the same way even after the effects of the pollen. You thought maybe he only desired you because you were the first person he laid eyes on when he got hit with the pollen.

“The pollen wore off, doll. Come to bed. You tired me out,” he laughed and moved in hands gesturing you to come to him. 

“Why are you still being weird then?” you smiled softly.

“Get your ass in bed with me so we can cuddle; fuck you’re so stubborn.”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so obsessed with me all of the sudden,” you teased. 

“Doll, I’ve been obsessed since I laid my eyes on you,” he said closing his eyes, which made you gasp dramatically.

“You were dating Sharon when we met!”

“Sh! Go to sleep,” he buried his face in your neck.

“Ugh, bad boy,” you playfully hit him.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get even with ya next time, and we’ll see who’s being bad then,” he whispered sensually making you excited. Maybe the pollen wasn’t such a bad thing.

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@mathletemadison

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #steve x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #dom!reader #sub!steve rogers #sex pollen #steve rogers sex pollen #marvel smut