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#nomad!steve rogers x y/n
chxrryhansen · 3 months
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘
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Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!
Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)
here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.
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Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.
Until Fury resigned that was.
Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.
Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.
Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.
Not that you had a choice anyway.
Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.
A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.
Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.
The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.
They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.
From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.
You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.
He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.
He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.
They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.
But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.
"Get on your knees."
"Wh-What?"
"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.
You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.
Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.
There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.
He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."
You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.
Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.
His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.
You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.
His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.
Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.
"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.
He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.
"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."
Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.
You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.
He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.
Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.
"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."
His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.
"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.
Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.
Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.
"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.
He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.
Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”
You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.
Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.
"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.
"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."
"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.
Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."
and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.
"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"
"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.
The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.
"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.
"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”
Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.
The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.
“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”
“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.
"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."
Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.
"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.
His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.
"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.
"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.
“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.
He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.
Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.
Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.
But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.
Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.
People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.
You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.
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navybrat817 · 15 days
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Steve + 9. "Don't even think about getting out of the car."
Oh, Eva. 🫠
Direct Order
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Summary: Steve doesn't like that you ignored his direct order.
Word Count: Almost 900
Warnings: Arguing, slight angst, stubbornness, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Another overprotective prompt ficlet. Thanks, Eva! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The night air was cool and refreshing as you rolled the window down, but it went back up before you could appreciate the breeze against your skin. You shot Steve a glare who didn't acknowledge you as he drove. You didn't like uncomfortable silence, but you didn't attempt to fill the time with small talk. Not since he decided to rip you a new one in front of the team an hour ago.
You just wanted to go home.
“You have nothing to say?” Steve asked, his voice low. “Must be killing you to go this long without talking.”
You fought the urge to kick the dashboard since the car didn't do anything to you and smacking him could cause an accident. “And it must be killing you that I didn't fall in line today like a perfect little soldier,” you said with a sardonic smile. “Or would you prefer I act like a doll?”
“You ignored my direct order,” he growled as he gripped the steering wheel. For a moment you thought he’d bend or rip it away. “What the hell were you thinking?”
You sneered before facing forward. “Jesus Christ, give it a rest. You berated me enough on the quinjet and I don't need to hear it again.”
He took his eyes off the road long enough for you to see the anger brewing. “Damn right I berated you because you never listen to me.”
The tension thickened. You didn't typically argue with Steve. You went against him once and now he was saying you never listened to him? Where the hell did he get off?
“Don’t you dare lecture me about not listening to you when you’re the one who never listens to anyone,” you argued, feeling a hint of satisfaction when he clenched his jaw. “And I made the right call. I stand by that.”
The mission was a success because of your decision.
“You don't make the calls. That isn't your job,” he snapped, the tires squealing as he made a rough turn. “You could've been hurt or worse. Don't you get that?! You can be so stubborn sometimes.”
“But I wasn't hurt! And me being stubborn? Pot meet fucking kettle, Rogers!”
“Captain,” he said through his perfect teeth.
“Captain,” you scoffed, your blood boiling. “You are not my Captain right now. You're just some guy who wormed his way into driving me home after running his mouth.”
You shrieked when he slammed on the brakes, bracing yourself on the dash when he ran a hand through his blonde hair and bitterly chuckled. It was a foreign sound coming from him. One that made you shut your mouth. “Some guy? Now I’m just some guy?”
Concern flickered across your face. Yeah, you were mad, but you didn't have to push. “Steve. I mean, Captain, I-”
“I’m not just some guy and I’m not just your Captain,” he cut you off, stopping you when you reached for the door handle. “Don't even think about getting out of the car. We’re not done yet.”
“Why should I stay? So you can snap at me some more?” You mumbled. “Would you treat Bucky or Sam or anyone else like this?”
It wasn't fair to try and make him feel bad. He was your leader for a reason and he gave you an order. You didn't follow it. He had every right to be pissed off. By all means he had the right to bench you, too.
But why was he taking it personally?
All the anger fell from Steve’s face as he leaned across the seat more. “I’m sorry.”
Your gaze softened, too. “Why are you sorry?”
“For snapping the way I did,” he said with a shake of his head. “You just scared me today. I get scared every time you go into the field, but that was the first time you…”
“Didn’t listen,” you finished for him, your heart pounding when you realized just how close he was. If he leaned in any closer, his lips would be against yours.
“And you are right. I have a hard time listening to others myself,” he said, smiling when you snorted. “But I don't give you orders for you to act like a perfect soldier or doll. Just like I don't give Bucky or Sam or anyone else orders just to have things done my way. I do it to keep you as safe as possible. It would break my heart if something happened to you, sweetheart.”
Your eyes went wide. “Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” You asked, your stomach doing a funny flip.
He chuckled, the sound much warmer than before. “So, you do listen.”
“Most of the time,” you teased, staring into his eyes. You could see how much he cared. No wonder he took this mission to heart.
“Arguing aside, you did well,” he praised, which sent heat to your cheeks.
“Thank you, Captain. I’m sorry I scared you.”
“I’ll forgive you for ignoring my orders if you let me walk you to your door.”
“And I'll forgive you for snapping at me in front of the team if you come inside and have a drink,” you countered.
You didn't expect him to move his mouth to your ear. “I’ll only come inside if you say ‘please’,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. “And that's a direct order.”
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Yes, sir. ❤️‍🔥 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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hiiii can you do whiskey w/ steve rogers that involves spanking/light bdsm? reader wants to try something new in the bedroom and steve's a little more hesitant at first but he gets into it
Darkness.
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warnings - smut. cursing.
you know I had to use another nomad gif... it's the long hair with the beard... it gets me going man. I kind of went a little rogue with this request, but it just happened. apologies.
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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He's dreamed of women like you.
Strong, independent, resilient.
Women that take what they want, when they want it - regardless of the repercussions.
But he never could have anticipated your intuition. Your instincts.
You can read him like a book. Plain and simple. And no one can do that.
Steve prides himself on being stoic. Brave. The face of freedom. But it's like you look at him with x ray vision.
"Don't you ever get tired of it?" you ask one night.
Steve's sat on the edge of the bed, watching you get undressed. It's been a long night, full of fake smiles and ballgowns and polite handshakes. Weariness has settled in his bones.
"Tired of what?"
"The Golden Boy thing."
He scoffs.
"It's not a 'thing'."
You scoff.
"Come on, Steven. Don't forget I can see right through you."
"Oh yeah? Then what do you see, honey?"
You stalk over to him, settling down in his lap. Your favourite place.
"I can see the darkness, you know."
His brow quirks. Curiosity.
"Sometimes, I watch the America's Sweetheart facade slip ever so slightly. And I see what's underneath."
"And what would that be?"
A kiss to his jaw. Below his ear. A nip at his throat.
"You're a caged animal."
His grip on your hips tightens. Bingo.
"There's something in here, Steve," you point to his chest. "Something dark. Something raw. Something feral."
His breath hitches. His lungs constrict.
"I wanna see it," you whisper. "Whatever's underneath. I wanna see it."
He chuckles, low and menacing.
"Oh, honey. I don't think you know what you've just done."
You're on all fours in the blink of an eye. Strong fingers twist into the waistband of your underwear and pull, the sound of ripping lace making you gasp.
A smack to your ass makes you jolt, but not with fear. Anticipation. You want to see how far he'll go before he stops himself. You want to see his restraint snap.
"If you need me to stop," he whispers into your ear, "tell me. Or use the word Brooklyn."
He spanks you again before flipping you over with inhuman strength. He undoes his tie and runs the silk material through his fingers. You can see the cogs turning. He just needs a little push.
You raise your wrists and place them against the headboard, giving him a look that says I dare you.
Steve ties you up, standing back to admire his handiwork. He could get used to this view.
He reminds himself that you asked for this.
And he's never been one to deny you anything.
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ronearoundblindly · 2 months
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Hideout (4.2)
touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader
Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)
Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.
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Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k
A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.
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He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.
You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.
He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.
Translation: I’m excited to see you.
Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.
Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.
Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.
This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.
Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.
You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.
Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.
It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.
Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.
He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.
You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.
You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.
You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.
The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.
The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.
“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.
“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”
Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.
“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.
There’s a shuffling noise above you.
“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”
The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.
“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”
Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.
Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.
Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.
“Sorry,” Steve huffs.
“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.
The shuffling noise sounds different.
“No,” he says softly.
You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.
His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.
“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”
You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down. 
Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.
Tap.
“Sorry.”
“Comfy though?”
His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”
The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.
Twitch.
“Sorry.”
You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.
“Comfy?”
He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.
You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.
Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.
It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it. 
You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.
“May I?”
Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.
You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke. 
With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.
“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”
The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.
“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”
“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”
You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”
You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.
The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.
A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.
He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.
Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.
He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.
You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.
His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.
Don’t scare him.
It can’t last; you’re only human.
Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.
The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.
In that low timber, he growls.
“You like that… Knew you would.”
Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.
That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.
Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.
What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?
Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.
Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.
Again and again.
Again and again.
A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.
Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.
He moves to grip your thighs hard.
Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.
“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.
No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—
He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.
Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.
“N-uhhh god—“
He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.
“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.
It makes things worse.
You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.
Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.
His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.
Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.
Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.
“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”
“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.
“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”
You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”
A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.
“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”
He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.
“Sounds so pretty when you do…”
Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.
Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”
Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.
“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.
“More.” 
He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit. 
Too delicate.
“More,” you gasp.
He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.
The fire takes over again.
“More, Stevie. Please.”
You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.
Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.
“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”
Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.
Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.
The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.
“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”
You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.
That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.
Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.
His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.
You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.
Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.
He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.
Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.
He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.
“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”
That fucking mouth…
There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.
It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.
You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.
Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.
Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him. 
He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.
He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.
You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.
“Take the win, Cap.” 
You freeze.
You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.
“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.
Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.
He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.
After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”
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A/N: In case you were wondering...
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[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]
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georgiapeach30513 · 2 months
Note
Steve Rogers x me 🙋‍♀️ number 32 or 50 please
Oh!! I love this one so much, but...just don't hate me with this.
There Goes My Life
Summary: just one last time
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, a smidge of dirty talk, creampie, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 1.2K
Series Masterlist
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He sighs as his blue eyes peer at your sleeping form. You never listened. It was too easy for him to get in through your window, and just gaze at you while you sleep. He warned you that there was a target on your back. Especially the moment you left SHIELD. It just didn’t seem right anymore. Not without Steve, and not knowing what you now know.
You look peaceful, which is more than what he can say for himself. Your windows seem smaller now, or maybe it was just because he felt he could never get too close to you. The picture of the two of you still sits beside your bed, and he feels an ache in his chest as you cling to his pillow. By now his scent would have worn off considering how you had your face buried into it.
“Cap, you have a short window. I’ll buy you some more time. Enjoy your girl.”
“Thanks, Sam,” he whispers, leaning over to remove his boots. If he didn’t have this need to hold you and enjoy you while he could, he would tell you how stupid it was to leave your window unlocked. But he also knew why.
You are also painfully aware that Steve had someone watch your place. Everything changed in such a short time. You didn’t think he would be coming back, much less as often as he did.
Removing his suit, he lets the mess of what was Captain America drift into your floor. Fully naked, and for a reason, he lifts the blanket on his side, and slides in. His eyes rake over your beautiful sleeping face. There wasn’t enough time for him to just watch you, but he did it all the same. He missed you so much it hurt. So much that he couldn’t even focus on the task at hand because he was waiting on you to tell him what to do. But this isn’t SHIELD, and you no longer were in his ear.
Your full lashes flutter with his warm breath. Your body sidles up to his even more. He’s so proud of you, even in your sleep you knew it was him. He reaches to pull the pillow from your grasp, wanting you to use him instead when your sleepy eyes blink away the clouds from your vision.
“Steve?”
“Shh,” he whispers, his nose pressing up against yours. Every moment with him is bittersweet because you know he’ll be off somewhere else before you wake up again. Leaving you feeling like everything was only a figment of your imagination.
Your lashes flutter close as you absorb his warmth. His breath. And when his lips press against your trembling ones. “Sugar,” he pleads, but you don’t want to waste time. Each time he visited you felt like it would be the last time, and that killed you inside. “Stop.”
“Steve, just take me. Make me forget that you won’t be here in the morning.”
“You make me feel like the biggest asshole.”
“Language, Captain,” he chuckles on your lips. Hoisting his body to hover over yours. His legs positioned in between your own, and he slides his apart as he sinks lower over you. His silky steel cock, lays over your bare mound, and you shutter at the feeling.
“I really hate that you were privy to that moment.”
“Why’s that?” You tease as he grips his length in one hand and runs it through your slick.
“Because every time I growl out filth in your ears, I want them to be your words only. Because even though you hold your head up high, and you look so regal walking into SHIELD, you’re my dirty little slut.”
“Your dirty little slut wishes that you would just fuck her…ahh,” you gulp as his thick veiny member plunges into your depths. Fully sheathing himself into your wet heat, and his weight settles on yours. It is the best kind of smothering. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you so much,” he grunts as his hips piston in and out of your walls. Pushing and pulling into every bit of you. Molding the two of you together again, and you hope that this was the normal. That you didn’t have to wait months until you got to feel him again. That this was a bad dream, and Steve wasn’t an enemy of the country.
You focus on the way his body cages around yours and how the two of you had so many beautiful plans. Feel only the way his thicker body made you feel so small. The tickle of his beard as he nips along your neck. You swear every part of him got thicker. And it made you more needy for him.
You took every bit of his hard and deep thrusts because your body was made for him. Nobody pulled out the sounds from your lips. There was nobody else you trusted the way you trusted him. In a different world you and Steve would have already been married, and have a baby on the way. He would have given up this fight with the Avengers just to live a normal life.
But those dreams weren’t reality. Now it was a dream that the man you love was becoming so feral with the limited time he had with you. His hands slam on the headboard above you, and his hips stab into you with so much force you start to see stars. This is how he always ended things. He wanted to make sure you almost passed out with pleasure and pressure.
His thrusts make the picture frames rattle on the walls. Your hands cling to his wide hips as you feel yourself start to go blank. Damn this beautiful man. He couldn’t even bear to say goodbye. The solution was to fuck you stupid. Fuck him.
You try and hold on. See the image of Steve gritting his teeth as he forces his orgasm away. Waiting on you to succumb to your exhaustion. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your walls clench down tight around his cock, and he gets a few more ruts into you before ribbons of hot thick cum fill your belly up.
He stutters his movement as he watches your head lull to the side, and he hates himself for doing this. Hates having to be so careful. There is nothing he wants more than to bask in your silky walls all day. He pulls himself out of you, and smiles when you sleepily whimper at the loss of him.
Giving himself just a moment to stare at your gaping cunt leaking of him. “Captain, it’s time. We gotta be careful.”
He leaves you laying there, but covers you back up. Leaving behind the scent of him on your sheets, and the regret that things aren’t different. This had to be the last time. He was putting you into too much danger. Slowly he’d call the eye from watching you. He’d let you go because that’s how much he loved you.
“I’m always careful,” he says, slipping back into his suit.
But this time — he wasn’t…..
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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year
Text
Santa Tell Me
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: You needed protection. Steve was only too un(willing) to take you in his mountain.
Warnings: Swearing, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: One shot that has more that 5k words. One day, I’ll get over Chris Evans. But today isn’t the day. My Christmas gift to you hihi merry christmas lovely humans~
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“No.”
A door slammed on Bucky’s face. He had not even said a word and yet, his best friend, Steve Rogers took one look at him and decided that it was best to slam the door in his face.
This punk, he thought.
Bucky took a deep breath before turning to look at the lady hiding behind his back. He offered you an assuring smile, pointing his thumb on the closed door before making a face as though saying that his friend was unnecessarily grumpy.
“Sorry ‘bout that. I think it’s menopause.”
Bucky cleared his throat before knocking once again.
The door opened with excessive force and once again, the brawny man appeared. Now that he didn’t slam the door, you were able to see what he really looked like.
What your supposedly temporary sanctuary looked like.
What he looked like.
When Bucky Barnes showed you what his best friend looked like, you thought that he seemed like an old-fashioned yet friendly man. From what Bucky told you, Steve used to be a captain in the military, until he quitted. The man just one day decided to retire because, and you quoted Bucky, ‘the man was simply fed up with people’s bullshit’.
You thought he looked handsome in his military uniform.
The hulking man in front of Bucky looked like the man in the photograph, yet at the same time so different. The Steve standing tall in front of you had beard on his face. In comparison to the photo, he now sported a longer hair that framed his manly face. You noted that his locks looked darker now. He was even bulkier now, too. The man on the photo looked like a hero. The one in front of you looked like an anti-hero.
“Heeeey,” Bucky grinned at Steve before slapping his arm in a friendly gesture. “I was just talking about you! So this is-“
“We’re the same age,” Steve cut Bucky off, glaring at him with his intense eyes before stepping closer to the equally huge man. You almost wondered how Bucky did not look intimidated at all when you remembered that underneath Bucky’s friendly persona was a man as deadly as him.
Steve never once looked at your direction as if you were inconsequential to him. Well, you thought, of course you were. To him, you were a nuisance. Bucky was not the one assigned to your case, yet you were immensely grateful that he stepped in once he noticed how the other man was bungling your case and almost caused your demise. That was to say it kindly when in truth, you walked out of their office one day after meeting with the other sergeant to go over your case. He assured you that the case was simple and that your life was not in grave danger. One moment you were crossing the road and was about to enter your car, and the next thing you knew a car was driving alarmingly fast to where you were standing. Your fight and flight instinct seemed to fail you as you did nothing but looked at the car with wide eyes and stuck limbs.
You should have been dead.
You would have been dead if it weren’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes and impeccable speed. And well, his metal arm. You felt a powerful arm tugged you behind a car, shielding you with his body and metal arm as the assailant pointed a gun at you and began shooting. The loud bangs from the weapons felt like it went on forever. Bucky had his other arm wrapped around you and he felt your uncontrollable trembles. He looked down and noticed how pale you were.
And he hated it.
He loathed seeing someone took advantage of helpless people.
Perhaps, that was what made him snapped. With practiced precision, Bucky pointed his gun and with a singular shot, he managed to hit one of the wheels. The car crashed to the post with deafening sound of collision. A moment passed before the forces were able to cautiously walked to the car, their guns pointed at the injured assaulters.
Bucky thought they were all useless.
After he made sure that you were indeed unharmed, Bucky gently dragged you back to the headquarters and berated the sergeant in charged of your case. He called the man, and you quoted: ‘a simpering buffoon’, ‘an intolerable fuck waffle’, ‘a spam email’, and lastly, he likened the sergeant to a wet sock. By the time he was done verbally kicking the man, the sergeant looked like he was one insult away from crying. Bucky thought that he deserved it. One mistake could cost someone’s life, and it almost costed yours.
Had the man simply looked deeper into the case, had he just noticed the familiar patterns of the crime, then he would know that the man you unknowingly outed was none other than the villain they had tried so hard to capture. He could not simply hand this case to another person. No, he knew what needed to be done, what level of protection you needed in order to get out of this disaster alive, and who could protect you as he resolved the case.
Which brought the two of you in front of his old friend’s cabin in the middle of nowhere. Okay, that might have been a tad bit exaggerated. Technically, Steve had neighbors in this mountains…just not near him…for miles..
Bucky cocked his head to the side, clearly confused as to what Steve said. “What?”
“We’re the same age. Therefore, If I am experiencing menopause, shouldn’t you be too?” Steve answered scathingly, clearly taking offense on Bucky’s senseless quip. He squinted his eyes at the equally tall man. Bucky’s jaw dropped dramatically, his hand covering his mouth.
“What?” He gasped theatrically. “Meaning to say you can still procreate?”
Steve clearly wasn’t amused. He stepped closer and to your astonishment, Bucky ran behind you. He humorously cowered on your back, using you as a human shield between him and the slighted former captain.
And that was the first time Steve Rogers laid his eyes on you.
To an untrained eye, no one could see him paused. But Bucky saw it. It was as though someone knocked the air out of his friend’s lungs. It was as though you were an occurrence that he never saw coming.
As the case may be, Steve led the two of you in his cozy cabin. The fire from the chimney made the place considerably warmer. Steve wordlessly placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you. Before you could even express your gratitude, he was already turning his back on you and sat on the chair in front of you and Bucky.
“Where’s my tea?” Bucky asked, looking longingly at the cup in your hands.
Steve merely spread his legs further, getting comfortable as he leveled his glare at his best friend. “She’s a guest.”
“I’m you guest, too!”
Steve shook his head slowly, “No, you’re not. You’re an unwanted nuisance, my acquaintance at best.”
Bucky could only blinked owlishly at his best friend. How could he categorized him as an acquaintance as if he didn’t grow up with him? The audacity. The nerve. But then he remembered, he must be kinder to Steve because he was the one needing a favor from him.
After Bucky went to the kitchen and served himself a tea all while mumbling under his breath how hospitable and recluse his friend had become, he went straight to business.
He laid out the facts, and Steve in turn listened intently. Bucky could see that he was just an inch closer to agreeing, and he needed just a push.
“She knows how to cook! She wouldn’t be a bother to you, right Y/N? You know how to cook?” Bucky exclaimed, his expression hopeful as he looked at you.
You shook your head slowly and you could see him visibly deflate.
“She knows how to do the laundry. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger while she’s here-“
You tapped his broad arm, before scooting closer to him. You whispered sheepishly to him, “I don’t know how to do that, too.”
“What?” he whispered back in astonishment and utter confusion.
Steve watched the two of you with a bored expression. His arms were crossed in front of him as he assessed the situation. This was not the first time Bucky used his space as a safe house. Usually, they only stay for a couple of weeks because that was how quick Bucky moved. When his best friend was intrigued with a case, he became so hyper focused that he only breathed for the case. In addition, the last time Bucky brought someone, he promised that it would be the last one.
And yet, here you were.
He could already feel the headache coming.
“Maybe you two want to talk it out first?” He asked when few minutes passed and you two were still conversing under your breaths.
Bucky offered him a sincere smile. “Come on, punk. For the spirit of Christmas, do it for me.”
He looked at him with deadpanned expression, “It’s October.”
He did not know how, but you and him watched as Bucky drove out of the property with a victorious smile on his face. How he was able to convince him was lost on Steve.
The first week went by quickly. You were somehow starting to be familiar with Steve’s routine. You noticed that early in the morning and before he locked the doors in the evening, he did parameter check. No matter how cold it was outside, he would do it without fail. You would admit that it made you feel safer. For the first time in months, you felt as though you were out of harm’s way. And in turn, you attempted to cook him meals. But that ended up a peril to the both of you…and his house.
You tried your very best to do his laundry, even his underwear. You were confused at first why you were having a hard time removing the stains form them. The look of horror in Steve’s face when he saw you hand washing his delicates was priceless. He was a man of great stature and nothing and no one managed to faze him. Until you.
He was so focused on your hands holding his underwear that he failed to notice how you were able to turn his white shirts into red.
He was still blushing and was unable to look in your eyes when that night, you gently place a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He nodded his gratitude to you before engulfing the cup with his massive hand. He took on sip before he started coughing uncontrollably. In your panicked state, you went to him and touch him for the first time. You rubbed his muscular back, looking at his reddened face.
“What is this?” He asked between coughs. Only when he looked like he was near dying did he look at you.
“A coffee,” you answered.
“With salt?!”
A look of confusion passed your face before you realization dawned on you. Hurriedly, you went to him to take his sorry excuse for a coffee away from him. You were pouring it on the sink when you heard his concerned voice near you. In fact, you failed to notice him move and stand beside you because of your embarrassment.
“What happened?”
You contemplated whether you should tell him, but for his safety (and the safety of his food) you told him. With a deep breath, you turned to look at the tall man beside you.
“I lost my sense of taste.”
“Why?”
“Traumatic brain injury,” you admitted as though this was not a big deal, as though you didn’t almost die that night.
He didn’t need to know how- he had an inclination. Your enemy was powerful. Remarkably powerful that Bucky had asked for his help when he promised never to again. You were in danger.
You thought Steve would attempt to say something comforting like other people. Yet, all he did was to look at you intensely and nod his head as if in acknowledgement of your pain.
The next morning, you woke up to find all the ingredients in the kitchen with label, his beautiful handwriting on each of the container.
It was a cold night in November when Steve and your dynamic changed. You couldn’t sleep that night, your thoughts and anxiety about your future was getting ahead of you. It was as if you no longer had something to look forward to, as if it was solitary or death. You tried everything- from counting sheep, to reciting the alphabet backwards. And yet, you still couldn’t sleep. And so, you decided to warm a glass of milk when you heard it.
A sound of pain.
Fearing that something had happened to Steve, you ran to the side of the house you had never been in. You were thankful that the door was not locked when you barged in. The only weapon in your hand was a wooden spoon you would have used to stir your milk. Your eyes swept over the darkened place to fight the danger off and found none. The danger was in Steve’s mind. He was groaning in his sleep, his brows furrowed, showing his distressed. The sheet was entangled in his muscular limbs, sweat was rolling down his forehead.
He looked like he was in pain.
And you knew what it was, you had experienced what it was. It was something you wanted to run away from, and yet, you couldn’t. You were trapped in your own mind. And tonight, Steve was trapped in his own personal nightmare.
Softly, you brushed your hand on his hair, trying to soothe him. You called his name to wake him up, running your other hand up and down his arm in a pacifying manner.
“Steve, come on. Wake up,” you whispered when he started struggling, his muscles rippling from the intense emotions and anxiety rolling off of him.
“I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you,” you buried your face on his chest. You had read somewhere that pressure was a good thing when someone was experiencing this to keep them grounded. You had desperately prayed that someone would be there for you when you felt like dying.
“I’m here for you..”
You repeated saying that until you felt him move. And only when his breathing turned normal did you look up at his confused and frightened eyes. Seeing as he was now awake, you attempted to move only for him to shackle you to his front with his muscular arms. He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe you were there with him, as if you were an angel that saved him the moment he thought he would perish.
“Stay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. You were wary at that point. You felt as though you were crossing a line- something that you could never go back to. With his face so close to yours, you could feel something you never should have felt for this was only a temporary dwelling, your resting place.
This had a deadline.
You had gotten good at ignoring how handsome he was, how strong he was, how gentle he was to you… and how patient he was to all your shenanigans.
Most importantly, you were almost successful at ignoring how protective he was of you that he did not even let you cook. Or how he always had his hand on the small of your back when you two were walking outside. Or how he always checked on you each night and bid you good night. Or how he said without words how no harm would come upon you.
Or how feminine he made you feel.
It was so unlike how other men you had dated treated you. No, they didn’t treat you wrong… they just didn’t treat you the way he was treating you. Or look at you the way he was looking at you right now.
“Please,” he whispered.
And stay, you did.
It was before sunset when you opened your eyes. A heavy arm was thrown on your stomach, you back so close to his front that you could feel his warmth and a hardness you knew what it was. You felt a tinge of heat on your core. It had been too long… You could smell Steve this close. And by heavens, he smelled like home.
He smelled like yours.
But you knew you shouldn’t get attached. This would only bring chaos to his peaceful life. You weren’t ignorant to assume that his life in the military was peaceful. He wouldn’t be like how he was last night if not for the terrors he faced during his service.
And falling for him would only bring terror in his life. You could not bring yourself to ruin the peaceful and idle life he made for himself in this mountain.
With a firm decision, you left his bed.
Steve couldn’t remember sleeping as peacefully as he did…or waking up as late as he did that morning. Yet, all the calmness he felt vanished when he woke up without you. He knew he did not dreamed you. You were there. He felt you there. He held you in his arms. You soothed the demons living in his mind.
But where were you now?
His movements were abrupt as he scanned his room. He hastily moved out of his room, sweeping a look at every room he passed. He placated himself by thinking that you might have moved back to your room to sleep only to be disappointed. Your room looked cold. You weren’t there. He felt his heart beating, the sound drumming out of his ribcage that it hurt. He felt as though he could not breathe. With a poorly constrained terror, he started calling out your name loudly as he moved to every room of his house.
And still, you weren’t there.
You left, he was convinced.
And he felt betrayed.
How could you leave just like that when you brought color to his bleak life? When for the first time in years he felt that he wasn’t alone? How could you leave like that when you were able to silence the demons he tried so hard to kill?
He was hunched over the kitchen counter when he heard a door open. Unknowing that you left a bomb to explode by stepping outside, you flashed Steve a small smile. In your hand was a bunch of flowers you had plucked from around the area. Your smile froze when he walked to you like a bull ready to eviscerate his opponent. Barely stepping back, you were unprepared when you felt his powerful arms around you, his body trembling with anger and anxiety.
“S-Steve?”
If he heard you, he didn’t give an ounce of indication. His hold on you tightened, his face buried on your dainty shoulder. It went for so long that you started feeling uncomfortable. Your mind was set from your morning walk that you would go back to treating him like a friend. You were attempting to get out of his hold when he finally did speak.
“Do you even have an ounce of idea what I would do if you end up getting hurt?” His voice was cold when he spoke. He let you go to look at you. His anger was palpable. The calm and quiet Steve you knew was gone.
“I just went out to-“
“And you didn’t think of the danger?” He asked in indignation. The way he was looking at you made you feel like a petulant child, as though you did a terrible mistake. “You didn’t think that Bucky placed you in my care only for you to get hurt because what? You wanted to pick up flowers? Are you that thoughtless-“ He finally trailed off when he saw tears threatening to fall. Your lips were quivering from hurt. Steve suddenly felt at loss. He went too far, he was afraid to admit.
Without meeting his eyes, you stepped out of his hold, placed the flowers on the counter, and went up to your room.
It was hours later when a knock disrupted you from your hateful thoughts toward him and pitying thoughts for your situation. You were pouting when the door opened, revealing the person who vexed you today. You didn’t say anything, merely threw daggers his way. Steve didn’t know how to deal with someone like you, yet he knew he was in the wrong. He let his emotions get the best of him.
“I’m sorry, angel,” he said, watching your expressionless face. You hated how he talked to you. There was already someone bungling your life and making it miserable and making you feel like you were so small that he could step on you. You didn’t need another man to do that.
Coldly, you replied, “I only accept apologies in cash.”
And that was how you found yourself in town. Steve was on guard as he walked with you, his towering height made it possible to see everyone. He was serious while you were jumping up and down from excitement. It had been close to half a year since you were out in the public, and this felt like a treat to you. You were so used to living and providing for yourself that when shit happened, it was a big adjustment for you. Yet now, you had no qualm spending his money. It was reparation for damages that he did to you, you thought.
You smiled evilly as he paid for the camera that you bought.
It was not the fanciest, you were not that evil. But it was so long since you last held a camera. You were a photographer, one of the best actually. You were winning contests left and right. One day, you were innocently taking a photo of a landscape, admiring the nature and the vast land before you. Your focus was on the deers wandering aimlessly. You went home that day like any other work day. It was the next day when you were reviewing your photos that you noticed that just behind the deers, almost hidden behind the trees, were three men. One man looked like he was running, the other two was laughing with guns in their hands. It turned out you were a witness to a crime. Not long after, the body was found.
And that was how you got entangled in this whole fiasco.
It was almost December, and the market was already decorated with Christmas lights and in the middle of it all was the huge tree. You pulled Steve in front of it, lifted the camera, and took a picture of the two of you. You were looking at the camera, and he was looking down at you with a small smile in his face.
December came. It was the day before Christmas when Steve found you in the kitchen, attempting once again to cook properly. Regardless of the taste, Steve always ate your food without any reluctance. Yet, what you were cooking looked festive that it confused him.
“Is there an occasion?” He asked as he sipped his coffee, thankfully no longer salty.
“I’m one year closer to death.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s my birthday.”
You faced him with a smile. Steve walked to you, before embracing you in his arms. “I am so happy you’re alive, angel. Happy birthday,” he whispered in your ears. He wanted to say how happy he was you were here, too. Yet, he didn’t.
That night, he laid out the table so beautifully. Candles were lit in the middle. Steve cooked for the two of you, and he took out wine from his cellar. You and him were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with wine glass in your hand.
“You never asked me why I had a nightmare,” Steve stated, he was swirling the wine as he looked at you. You could feel his body warmth this close. The wine, the candle, and the way he looked at you felt like this was something intimate.
“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would.”
“You weren’t curious.”
“We all have demons to live with. That’s what I thought. And I hope you defeat your demons,” you admitted before sipping from your glass.
What you didn’t know was his demons were becoming less and less strong the longer you stayed with him, he thought. You could silence them.
“Did you enjoy your birthday, angel?”
“I did. Also, why are you calling me an angel?”
“Because I feel safe with you.”
“What?” You sputtered. If anything, he should be the angel with the way he took you in when he didn’t have to. “If that’s the case, you’re the angel, Steve. You make me feel safe,” you stated with sincerity in your voice.
“I know I’m an imposition to you. I’m thankful that you took me in. Bucky mentioned that he’s almost sure that this will end soon. Thank you for letting me stay here, Steve. Soon, you can have this haven all to yourself. I will never forget your kindness. You’re my angel.”
When you finally looked up, you noticed how serious he was looking at you. His eyes drifted to your lips. Unconsciously, you licked your lips. Suddenly you felt as though you were parched. Steve hated the thought of him living in this mountain without you. You had been here for only close to three months and yet, you changed him. His house no longer felt cold. His house no longer felt empty. He hated the thought of losing you.
He thought that you were meant to be here.
Steve lowered his face to you, inch by inch. Until you felt his lips on you. He kissed you slowly at first, so softly that your eyes fluttered close. It was only when you opened your lips did he kiss you with such intensity that it made your breathless. His hand was on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. His tongue demanded entrance, and you were too willing to give in. The taste of mint and wine on his lips made you kissed him deeper. With his strength, he pulled you on top of him. You were straddling him, and his hands were discovering your curves. The hard evidence of his pleasure was pressed on your core.
You were humping him, all rational thoughts flew out of your brain the moment his lips touched yours. From this angle, you could feel how big he was. You were moaning when his lips skimmed to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your pulse was erratic, he noted. You were as affected as he was. With barely restrained impatience, Steve placed you on the carpeted floor, his body closely following as he topped you. He caressed your soft thigh, your dress falling to your waist which gave him access to your core. As if to tease you, Steve ran his hand from your neck to your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your thong.
“Naughty girl,” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you’re dripping wet for me.” Without any warning, he tore your thong away from you. He was in the middle of your parted legs, his look dark as he focused on your core. His finger traced your slit, making you moan as he smirked at how wet you were for him. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Your cunt is so wet for me.”
He slid down. Steve opened your pussy wider with his fingers and with his tongue, he tasted you. You were shocked at how much pleasure he was giving you that when he dove in and ate you like a man starved, you felt yourself go. Yet, he didn’t stop. A finger eased in you as he sucked your clit, moaning with gusto. You were so tight that he wondered how he would fit in you. He was thinking you were his, only his after this.
You were on your second orgasm, your legs shivering when he finally lifted his face. His beard was drenched with your essence, his hair falling on his forehead as he looked at you with heat in his eyes. Your dress was the next to go.
You were too in hazed from your orgasms, and his mouth sucking ferociously on your breast that you didn’t know how he got you and him naked. Yet, the next thing you knew, he was pressing his hard cock against your pussy. He kept pressing the head against you.
“You want me,” he said darkly. It wasn’t lost on you that it was not a question. Yet, you nodded your head. Because at that moment, you did want him more than anything else.
Steve rub his cock on your swollen clit before sliding it down on your tight hole. And then he shoved it inside you, pushing you to the edge once again.
He was only too glad you were too into it that you didn’t notice he had no protection. Or that he came inside you.
He was only too glad to taste you when you were awake. He had craved hearing your moans.
He was only too glad that you were a heavy sleeper some nights that he was able to spread your legs and taste you. He even marked your pussy with his cum on some nights. Of course, you would never know that. It was his secret.
Your talk about how this would all end, how he was going to be alone soon made him crazy. You didn’t know, but you unknowingly traded a dangerous man to another devil. He’d have a talk with Bucky, of course. Bucky would understand that he had to keep you. You’d go nowhere. You were his. He had been good all his life. Didn’t he deserve a Christmas gift, too? You and a baby soon, perhaps?
He smiled at your sleeping form. He couldn’t stop himself from hugging you closer. The snow was falling beautifully outside, the fire had long simmered. The sun was starting to rise. This was what Christmas truly felt like, Steve thought.
When you finally stirred, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, my angel.”
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rogersideup · 2 months
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。°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °。
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Chapter 3
Expendable
Series Masterlist
Previous part: wine and dine next part: pink peonies
Word Count 5,333
Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts.
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Standing in front of a human shaped dummy in the private training room, Steve was showing you all the best ways to direct an attack to assure your opponent goes down, and stays down.
After your mission and injury, Steve was out for a few days on a business trip the same day that you were medically cleared to get back to work. So, it had been a while since the last time you trained together.
You both decided it was a good idea to just take it easy and review what you already know as a means of studying for your final evaluation coming up.
Every agent had to take a final evaluation upon completing every single training course shield had to offer. It was a big deal, and though nobody had any doubts that you were ready for it, it could never hurt to review and improve.
"Knock knock, bitches." Bucky announced, causing both of you to stop.
"Hey, Bucky boy" You greeted him.
"What's going on, Buck?" Steve questioned.
"I dunno, I'm bored." He shrugged. "Can I just sit and watch?"
"Don't you have work to do?" You asked with a giggle.
"I finished!" He defended himself. "You two get to spend so much time without me, it's only fair I get to insert myself here whenever I want to."
"You act like this is personal and not us doing our jobs" Steve raised an eyebrow at him.
"That's a technicality I'm choosing to ignore." Bucky sat on the ground with his back against the wall.
Steve looked at you to make sure it was okay that he sat and watched, but he caught something he wished he hadn't. Just for a split second, you narrowed your eyes at Bucky, and he gave you a very subtle nod back.
He realized that it very well could've been nothing, but it definitely seemed like it was something.
Though Steve didn't bring it up at all, he made mental note of it. He was confident in his deep knowledge of both of his friend's behavior, and he was choosing to trust his gut on that observation.
The rest of your time together, Bucky sat and watched quietly, only occasionally responding to conversations that would break out that weren't work related. Towards the end, Steve wanted to confirm some scheduling, so he cut the physical work a few minutes early.
He sat on the bench with you as you pulled a sweatshirt over your head, and your everyday sneakers onto your feet.
"Okay, so, your final evaluation is one week from today." Steve noted. "So this week will be really simple, we can keep doing this, just reviewing what we've already been over. But our training together is still supposed to run until the end of the month so we have three extra weeks together."
"What am I supposed to do when this ends?! I'll be so bored without you!" You exclaimed.
Steve chuckled. "You should be happy that you survived my course!"
"I mean I am, but then what?"
"Maybe another Avenger will take you under their wing." Steve shrugged.
"I can only think of one Avenger with wings" you noted.
"What do you want to cover in the three weeks together after your evaluation?" He asked.
Your lips formed into a pout. "I know what it should be, but I don't wanna do it"
"Restraints?" Steve questioned sympathetically.
"Restraints... I guess." You grumbled.
Every fighter had a weak spot. Just one thing that made their stomachs turn and their hearts race, something that really scared them regardless of mental work or preparation. Some people couldn't handle heights, didn't do very well when they saw blood, and really freaked out over handling certain weapons.
You just happened to be terrified of being restrained, which unfortunately was a very plausible situation to find yourself in as an agent. There was no reason why you were terrified of it, nothing happened in your life to make you fear it as much as you did. But the thought of having your hands or legs tied made you feel claustrophobic in a way you couldn't even describe using words.
"It'll be scary at first, but we'll work on it" Steve reassured. "Wouldn't you rather learn how to get out of any sort of restraint with someone you trust then find yourself in a situation where you're tied up at the hands of an enemy with no way out?"
"Logically yes, but in reality I would like neither of those things to happen." You responded with a twinge of sarcasm.
Steve laughed, "okay well, I wouldn't like that to happen to you either! But once you learn how to escape from a bunch of different scenarios, you won't be scared of it anymore. Knowledge is power!"
"I know you didn't just knowledge is power me, you loser!" You joked with a snort.
"Oh I certainly did, and I'll do it again." He stated with a smile. "Confidently!"
"Okay, I guess I trust you enough to teach me." You committed to the endeavor.
"Good job, pushing yourself is how you grow better as a fighter." Steve praised your bravery. "We'll start with the easiest and work our way up to the hardest, then you'll be such a pro at it that nothing could ever hold you back."
"Yeah, yeah." You playfully rolled your eyes.
"Then after our training together is officially over, I'm going to block off my schedule these same two hours every day to just cry." Steve put a hand over his heart.
"Can you do that to my schedule too? Maybe we can cry together?"
"I'll see what I can do." Steve agreed, before opening his arms up for a hug. You happily hugged him back. "Good job today! You're going to do great on your assessment no matter who is assigned to asses you. We all know it."
"Thanks for teaching me!" You smiled. "In all seriousness, I've really enjoyed getting to learn from you. Thanks for all the time you've put onto me."
"Anytime, Bug. I've been enjoying it just as much." Then Steve turned to include Bucky in their conversation. "What are you guys up to for the rest of the day?"
"Nothing, well, I think that's pretty obvious considering I'm just sitting here" Bucky shrugged. "Do you guys want to hang out? Maybe we can walk to that cool park a few blocks from here? Watch the sunset and get some fresh air?"
"That sounds good to me." Steve agreed. "Buggy, you in?"
Both boys watched as you stood up and slipped your gym back onto your shoulder. "As fun as that sounds, I can't. You know Agent 563? We made plans to have an early dinner together so I have to get ready to leave here soon."
"Booooo, buzz kill!" Bucky announced dramatically.
"That doesn't mean you can't go on a cute little sunset date with your boyfriend without me, Bucky." You smiled at him. "By all means, you boys have fun."
"I think that's great." Steve told you, ignoring the boyfriend comment. "563 is a great agent, and I think it's important that you girls stick together.
"Lord knows we need some time away from the amount of testosterone in this place." You agreed.
“Even me?" Bucky pouted.
"Even you." You smiled at him, approaching him for a hug that you had to bend over pretty far to get. "And Steve. I love you both, but I need to interact with other people than just you two!"
"Hey! I only talk to you and Steve and I'm doing just fine" Bucky defended himself.
"What about Natasha?" Steve wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him.
"Don't bring up Natas-" Bucky started passionately
"I'm leaving!" You announced before an argument broke out. "Love you boys! Have fun on your date! I hope you hold hands and kiss each other's foreheads!"
Steve and Bucky stared at each other as you walked out of the room. The door closed behind you, and your foot steps faded until completely inaudible to either of their heightened ears.
"Why are you actually here, Buck?" Steve asked.
"You're in love with her." He claimed deadpan.
Steve's heart sank, but controlled himself the best he could as to not bluff. "Why would you say that?"
"I figured it out last night." Bucky admitted. "I was trying to sleep but my brain wouldn't turn off. I was thinking about the dynamic of our little friend group and it hit me like a train. I had to come confirm it with my own eyes."
Steve puffed out a performative chuckle and put his hands on his hips. "You understand how crazy that sounds, right?"
"Is it though?" Bucky raised an eyebrow while standing up from his spot on the floor. "I never noticed it until today. Your eyes physically twinkle when you look at her. Your cheeks have been pink since I got here, and you never stopped smiling until she left the room. Encouraging, sweet, considerate..."
"It's my job to be encouraging towards her, Buck. I'm her boss." Steve huffed, feeling annoyed and attacked by this conversation.
"Why won't you admit it?" He asked.
Steve stopped in place and noted Bucky's furrowed brows. "Wait, why do you seem so upset about this?"
"I'm not upset." Bucky denied, shaking his head. "But if you're actually pining after her, Punk..."
"What?" Steve's heart was pounding.
"Do you like her?" Bucky asked one more time, his tone was nothing but serious. His face was stone cold.
"I'm her boss." Steve slumped. "There's a power imbalance, I can't break her trust."
"And if she joins the Avengers?" His head tilted.
"She just got out of a relationship."
"It's already been a month since then." Bucky insisted. "Steve, this is between me, you, and the grave. I'm serious."
Steve threw his head back with a groan. It had been a while since he had seen Bucky this worked up about anything, so he knew it was important. But getting the admission to slip past his tongue felt morally wrong and partially impossible.
"Steve."
"Yes." He said simply, staring up at the ceiling.
"How long?"
"How long what?" Steve sighed.
"How long have you had feelings for her?"
"Since the day I met her..." Steve mumbled.
"Oh my-"Bucky rubbed his face with his hand before running his hand through his hair. "You hid it too well."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve froze up as his mind ran laps around Bucky's behavior. He already knew what was coming before he could admit to it.
"You're going to hate us, but I need to tell you something..." Bucky said apologetically.
Meanwhile, you were having a fantastic time with Agent 563, Clara. Though the two of you were friendly around the compound, you never had the chance to actually sit and have a long conversation with her before. Both of you getting the chance to vent about the workplace environment and culture to someone who actually understood what it was like to experience it in the unique way you did was refreshing to say the least.
After dinner neither of you were ready to end the conversation there, so you grabbed ice cream on the way back, and walked the whole way home together. At a certain point, work was a topic long forgotten as you two bonded over other similar interests like movies, hobbies, family, you two even shared the same love for video games.
By the time you made it back to your apartment, there was a smile on your face and a lightness to your heart you hadn't felt in a while. It was obvious that work was making you feel heavy and alone for a while, but you didn't realize how bad it actually was until you got away from it.
That smile was wiped off your face when you opened the door to Steve sitting on your couch with a stiffness in his body and an anger on his face you had never seen before.
"Hey, are you alright?" You immediately asked as his head snapped over to you the second the door opened.
Alarm bells were instantly ringing. Your heart dropped into your stomach, and raced with a speed you didn't quite know was possible.
You had given Steve and Bucky a key to your place just like you had keys to theirs, but the three of you typically hung out at Steve's place. Either of them coming to your apartment was a rare occurrence, and them ever using your key was even more rare.
Steve watched you kick off your shoes and hang up your purse, he felt so many emotions all at once that he couldn't even begin to get the words out.
You hesitantly approached, he still didn't answer. "What's wrong?"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve questioned. His tone very obviously gave away his state of emotion, it only made you feel more anxious.
You had a suspicion what this was about, but number one rule as an agent was to never incriminate yourself. "Tell you what?"
"Don't do that with me." Steve denied. "Bucky already told me. I don't understand why you guys would do that and keep it from me."
Your posture slumped knowing that this reaction was exactly why you and Bucky decided to keep a dirty little secret from Steve. So you sat down on an armchair next to the couch he sat on so you could explain.
But, he didn't even give you a chance to defend yourself before he spoke again. "Did either of you even consider how hooking up with each other would affect me?"
"Hey now, let's get some facts straight." You didn't let him go any further. "I feel like the term hooking up is giving what we did way more credit than what it was worth, and yes, we did consider you, which is why we both agreed we weren't going to tell you."
"Great, thank you so much for the consideration. That makes me feel really secure in my friendships with both of you!" Steve said sarcastically, feeling betrayed and admittedly heartbroken beyond words.
"Wait" You shook your head. "I know that sounds bad, but you have to understand that we all have different morals and personal opinions when it comes to sex and we knew you wouldn't understand."
"What is there to not understand?" He questioned. "You two had sex with no regard to how it would effect our friendships with each other."
"First of all, it wasn't sex, there was no penetration." You corrected. "Second of all, we didn't think it would effect our friendships because that's all we are to each other."
"I don't care about the details or what actually went down between you. Had either of you told me you liked each other from the get go it wouldn't have been a problem. I would've been happy for you two." He grumbled.
"We don't like each other." You denied. "We were just at the right place at the right time, things moved fast, and that's that. There's no romance happening, nothing to make social group weird. We all know Bucky likes Natasha."
"Well it's weird now." Steve glared at you.
"What do you want me to do now? It already happened, I can't go back and change it." You noted. "Want me to suck your dick too and call it even?"
"This isn't funny and I really don't appreciate that comment." He scoffed.
"It wasn't weird for you until Bucky opened his mouth, huh?" You asked him. "Was it weird for you two weeks ago when it actually happened?"
"I don't care." He swallowed thickly.
Feeling quite taken back by his behavior, and a little more that a little annoyed that Bucky spilled the beans, your attitude came out. "I'm a grown woman capable of making grown choices, and I don't owe you an explanation of what I choose to do with my body, Steve."
"No, you don't." He agreed, but you made him snap. "But I'm feeling betrayed and disrespected by the two of you, and that, I do feel like I'm owed an explanation for."
"Are you mad at Bucky too?" You snapped right back. "Huh? Did you yell at him?"
"He told me the truth." Steve rationalized.
"Yeah, well I never lied to you." You pointed out. "And why did Bucky feel the need to tell you what we did privately? Huh? Do you feel like I'm allowed to feel betrayed and disrespected for him going against our word?"
"I'm not here to tell you how to feel. I'm here to try and rationalize any of the choices we're making right now." He raised his voice. "My friends are the only family I have, and I refuse to lose a friend I've already lost many times before over a stupid choice."
Just with that one sentence, he broke your heart. "And that right there, is exactly why I thought it was okay in the first place." You growled as all of your self defenses came rushing in to protect you from the words you always knew to be true but never wanted to admit.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm expendable to you and Bucky. I always have been." You stood up from your spot next to him. "You say you're upset because you didn't want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group but guess what? The dynamic has always been you and Bucky hanging out and me just kind've being there. You'll always choose each other, and everyone will always choose someone else over me."
"That's not true." Steve denied. Although he was seeing red with anger, your words made him sad for you.
"I'm never anyone's first choice, Steve. You'll always choose Bucky, Bucky will always choose you. My sister will choose her husband, Harvey will always choose literally anything but me. Nobody else here is willing to be my friend because it's like social suicide, and I had to completely isolate myself from my normal civilian friends for this job." You explained. "I'm the best agent so I get used and abused and harassed out of the pack, but if I become an avenger I'll be singled out as the worst one. You and Bucky claimed you'd always have my back but now I know that's not true."
"Stop saying that." Steve shook his head.
"Nobody wants me." You spat, Steve could tell you believed that to be true.
It shattered his already broken heart, because if you had even the slightest clue of how bad he wanted you, you'd never say those words again. But he couldn't tell you, it simply wasn't an option.
"Nobody wants me ever but that night, Bucky wanted me. So forgive me for latching onto any ounce of human connection I can get these days. That choice was never about you, and I'm sorry that it hurt your feelings but I'm struggling more than I ever have and right now I need to put me first."
"Bucky and I have always loved having you around."
"That might be true, but you proved my point with your own mouth." A single tear fell down your cheek, but you wiped it away just as fast as it fell. "You said you weren't willing to lose Bucky. But right now it feels like you're willing to lose me."
"Don't be mad at him." Steve shook his head.
"He had no right telling you that without consulting me first." You denied. "Unless he broke some kind of code or something there was no rea-" Your own words made reality wash over you like an angry ocean wave trying to swallow you whole. "Oh my god."
"No-" Steve shook his head.
"He broke bro code, didn't he?" You asked Steve, feeling suddenly nauseous.
Steve felt nauseous too. His brain couldn't think of anything but the truth at the moment, but he was horrified. Though he tried to formulate the correct response, nothing felt right at the moment. "You slept in my bed."
"Oh my god." You took a slow step back, unable to process what information you were just receiving. He watched as your face turned just as red as his. "You like me?"
A billion different things came to mind. So many scenarios, so many possibilities, every single time you suppressed your own feelings for Steve because you never thought a man like him could ever love you. It was wrong. Yet all this time, he was harboring a secret of his own. And even then it was still wrong.
"You slept in my bed while you had a boyfriend." Steve spoke so firmly you swore you could feel the bass vibrating the floor.
"This whole time you we're hoping I'd jump right into your arms after breaking things off with Harvey?"
Steve knew where this was going, and the look on your face was just as horrified as he felt. Your lip was wobbling, your hands were shaking, and with every statement you took a step back. "No. But I did think that there was enough happening between us that you wouldn't go for Bucky."
"I slept in your bed because I trusted you, you asshole." You cried, pointing a finger at him. "I slept in your bed while staying with Harvey because he was the only man crazy enough to actually love me and I didn't ever think anyone would be crazy enough to love me ever again."
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His jaw hung open for a moment, before it closed, then opened again. "Well then I guess you were wrong."
"I was wrong." You agreed, wiping your face once more as you watched his eyes tear up. "I trusted you to keep me safe in training, protect me against the people who are harassing me. I trusted you as a friend, a confidant. I even trusted you enough to see me naked, but I was wrong."
"This is exactly why I didn't tell you." Steve mumbled. "Because you trusted me and I didn't want to break it. Bucky didn't know."
"So let me get this straight. You had a secret that you kept from both of us, but Bucky's actions are excusable because he didn't know. My actions are inexcusable but I also didn't know, and we did the exact same thing together?" You asked. "You spend a lot of time talking shit about men's double standards around the compound for someone who turned around and is treating me the exact same way."
"I'm trying to talks through this so we can all go back to being friends."
"You we're never my friend." Your words cut through his heart like a knife. "You we're someone being nice to me in hopes of getting in my pants one day."
"No, that's not true." Steve pleaded, blinking back tears. "Our friendship means a lot to me. That's why I'm this upset in the first place."
"I don't think I can ever go back to being just friends with your or Bucky ever again." You cried. "All of you guys here are the same, I can't do this anymore."
Steve watched you clutch your stomach, as you spun on your heels and walked straight for the door. Little did he know, you felt so nauseous you were trying your hardest not to throw up.
"So that's it?" Steve asked, standing up from the couch. "You're going to throw away everything the three of us have built together as friends because we can't have a rational conversation?"
"A rational conversation? You can't even admit that you're only mad at me because you wanted to get into my pants and now you feel like you can't because Bucky got me first." You turned around to look at him. "That's all I am to anyone. That's the only relationships I've been able to form since I've gotten in this compound. You, Bucky, Harvey. I'm not a human to you guys, I might as well just be a glory hole."
"You're misunderstanding me." Steve shook his head, eyebrows raising upward like a sad puppy.
"That makes two of us." You turned back around and grabbed your packed duffel near the door that you always kept for emergencies.
"I care about you, you know that right?"
"It sure doesn't feel like it right now." You denied his claim.
"Where are you going?" Steve asked. "This is your house."
"The compound has never felt like home to me." The door swung open. You didn't even look back at him before stepping through the doorway. "Don't worry about where I'm going, just say the fuck away from me."
And just like that, the door slammed behind you and rattled the ground. You set off like a storm on the other side, and Steve was left on his own to crumble. Only when he was sure you were gone for good did he let tears fall down his face.
Trying your absolute hardest to hold it together you rushed through the compound hallways, desperately trying to avoid seeing anyone you knew before you made it to your car.
You didn't have it in you to have a face to face conversation with Bucky at the moment, but you did feel like you needed to tell him that the friendship was over, so you called him instead.
"Hey, bug." He answered sympathetically.
"Why did you tell him?" You cried.
"I had to." There was a deep sigh from the phone line. "What did he tell you?"
"Why the fuck are you protecting him?" You asked. It was admittedly a little harsh, but Steve had already amped you up.
"So he told you everything." Bucky stated. "I figured out he was in love with you last night. I couldn't in good conscience keep our secret anymore. He needed to know because the longer we kept it from him the worse this would've been."
"He doesn't love me, Bucky." You denied. "What he did wasn't love. It was control, and it was power, but it's not love."
"I can tell you're upset with him, but I don't think that was his intention." Bucky calmly denied. "Give it a few days to settle, alright? You can be mad at us all you want and I understand why, but emotions are high right now and it seems like both you and Steve are villianizing each other."
"I'm going to be gone for the weekend." You stated, needing to set firm boundaries. "I love you, but you hurt me and I need to get away."
"I'm sorry, bug. I really am." He apologized.
"You, Harvey, and Steve will all be blocked from reaching me unless it's during work hours. And as of now, I can't be a friend of yours."
"I understand" Bucky accepted the repercussions of his actions, though he was sad about it. "I hope you know we care a lot about you. I'm sorry this is all happening this way, but I still want you to be safe. Will you let someone know where you're going? Maybe Commander Bennett?"
"Yeah, I will." You agreed, feeling relieved that at least Bucky was being rational. "I hope in a little while we can figure this out between you and I, but it's going to take some time."
"I hope so too." He agreed. "Stay safe, and be smart. I'm here for you whenever you're ready."
You hung up, drove off, and the second the compound was in your rear view mirror it felt like the weight of the world was off your shoulders.
The weekend came and went simultaneously way too fast, yet painfully slow at the same time. You stayed with your sister who welcomed you with widely opened arms, and really took the time to listen to you when you spoke. She let you get it all out, she wiped your tears, then by morning you'd put on a brave face for Luca.
Spending a lot of quality time with him was truly the only reason you hadn't fully lost your mind. By Monday you felt well enough to face the shit show that was work, but it didn't last very long.
You had made it a whopping 4 hours into the work week before getting sent to Steve's office with an ice pack pressed to your cheek and Commander Bennett opening the door for you.
Steve looked up as the two of you entered, but your eyes were glued to the floor. You didn't need to look around to see where the chair was. You already knew.
He hoped that Bennett couldn't feel the thick tension that filled the room, but it was unusual for him to follow you to his office, and he did take note of how bad you looked.
Well, unfortunately for him he always thought you were stupidly beautiful, but your eyes were swollen. You looked exhausted, drained, and nothing like your usual fiery self.
"We need to do something about 212." Commander Bennett cut straight to the chase. "We can't keep cutting into her work time and having her get hurt because 212 and all his awful friends are picking on her."
"What happened?" Steve asked, trying to see what was under the ice pack.
"I saw them trip her with my own eyes. I don't know if they thought I wasn't watching, or if they thought they were being sly enough that I wouldn't notice, but this cannot continue." He stood firm. "Poor thing smacked her face against the floor, but she still is claiming that reprimanding them will make it worse. So what's the solution?"
Steve sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Do you have any ideas, Commander?"
"Give them one more strike. Let them all know that if they pull this again one more time before evaluation we will disqualify them from taking the test." He suggested. "That includes physical, and verbal attacks."
"That's a really good idea, thank you." Steve agreed. "I'll talk to them today."
"Are you comfortable with that, 306?" Bennett asked you.
"Yes, sir." Your voice was hoarse.
"I'm going to give her the option of cutting her work day short or continuing her training, but no matter what we all know she doesn't need more training." He noted. "I'll leave her with you so you guys can figure out your schedules."
"Thank you." Steve said politely.
Bennett left and the door clicked shut behind him, but your eyes stayed glued to the floor. Your options were go to your apartment and sleep the rest of the miserable daylight away, or spend two hours alone in a room with Steve.
You both already knew what the choice was going to be. There was no need to discuss the schedule change.
Steve knew you hated his guts right now, and he was still feeling hurt by you, but it took a few moments for it to dawn on him that he still needed to be a boss and a leader regardless. So he put his best foot forward.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
There was barely any compassion in his voice, he might as well have been a robot, so you didn't bother responding. You didn't even bother looking at him.
"Would you like to talk about the incident?" He pushed.
"No, Captain." You responded, coming to the same awareness that he was still your boss.
Your use of his title and refusal to look at him felt like a shot to the heart. "Would you like to be relieved of duties until tomorrow?"
"Yes, Captain."
"You are dismissed."
Just like the last time he saw you, you walked out on him without as much as a glance back knowing the next time you'd be forced to see him would be evaluation day.
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Next Part: pink peonies
Ooooohhhh we have some ANGST! Who’s right? Who’s wrong? I want to hear ALL your opinions! Sound off in my inbox! Team Bug, Steve, or Bucky? Let me know!
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fandoms-writings · 4 months
Text
Pursuit
Pairing: Nomad!Steve x Agent!Reader
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: Requested by anon - "Don't go where I can't follow, I thought I lost you"/"Honey, you're exhausted, go back to sleep."
Warnings: it's angsty, reader curses, but that's about it.
A/N: I promise I'm working on getting through these requests, life is just insane rn and i've been trying to get into some digital art, so i'm a little busy rn.
Masterpost
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The second Steve stepped through the door of their latest safehouse, he knew something was off. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention and he honed in all of his senses to focus on his surroundings. The others were still on their way, they'd all taken different routes here to at least try not to bring attention here, though it seemed like that didn't matter in the end. 
If the house was compromised, they'd need to make a swift exit, hopefully without killing anyone. But that also meant they had one last place they could safely hide from SHIELD. 
He steeled himself before taking cautious steps through the front room, back to the kitchen where he would check the dining room before heading up the stairs to clear the bedrooms. But there was something that caught his attention in the dining room. 
It looked like someone was seated there at the table in the dark. He clenched his fist, bracing himself for whatever was coming, and turned the light on. 
He thought he'd been found, that sitting at the table was an agent, waiting to bring him in. Or maybe even a Hydra agent, ready to kill him. For a second, he thought Nat could've been there - she did like to scare the crap out of him every now and then. 
But when that light turned on, it was worse than any of those outcomes. It was a sight that had his heart aching in his chest. 
You were seated at the table, staring at him with a gaze of steel, your hands folded over a gun on the table. 
He took a breath to steady himself from the shock of seeing you before taking a tentative step into the room. He didn't think he'd ever see you again if he was being honest with himself, not after he left SHIELD. 
"You were harder to track down than I thought you'd be," Your voice filled the room and he barely kept himself from flinching. You never spoke to him like this, cold and emotionless, he'd heard it in interrogations that you lead, but it was never aimed at him. "I suppose Nat's to thank for that." 
"What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to take a subtle glance around the room to see if you'd bought anyone with you. 
"It's just us, you can stop being paranoid." 
He glanced back to you, only letting his shoulders drop slightly before he gripped the back of the chair in front of him. "Why are you here?" 
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "Not even a 'hey baby, i missed you' huh?" You leaned back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest, "No, 'sorry I left you behind when we went on the run'?" 
He sighed, hanging his head. "I didn't want to leave you there." He muttered. 
"Bull shit," You snapped, "You know I would've dropped everything for you." 
He nodded at his feet, "I know. I'm sorry." 
"Sorry isn't gonna cut it this time, Steve." 
He lifted his head to look at you when your voice broke over his name, the tension in his shoulders from the day falling, replaced by a new stress. The way you were looking at him was devastating. Your jaw was clenched as you fought the wobble in your lips. The bags under your eyes were more prominent than he'd ever seen before, and your chest was heaving in uneven breaths as you kept yourself together. 
"I know," He started, "I know an apology isn't enough. But I am sorry." Slowly, he rounded the table until he stood three from you, his eyes glancing down to your shaking hands as you gripped your arms. "I wanted to come get you, but I didn't know if your department had been compromised or not. I also didn't want to force you to become federally wanted by the government, and there definitely wasn't enough time to talk about it." 
You were silent, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he pulled out the chair next to you, taking a seat and leaning his elbows on his knees. 
"The plan was to contact you when things calmed down," He explained, "It's just taken a lot longer than I thought it would." 
You let out a wet scoff, your voice tight as you said, "You're Captain America, Steven, on the run. What did you think? That they'd forget about you after a few days?" 
The attitude, the sass you gave him warmed his heart a bit - it meant you weren't so mad at him that it wasn't fixable, so he let out a small breath. 
"I don't know," He muttered, "With everything going on, I guess I didn't really think about it." 
"No shit." Your voice broke and he watched the first tear break through your lashes. He reached up, brushing it away with his knuckles before cupping your face, his heart aching in his chest like it was trying to reach for yours. They'd been off the grid for weeks now - weeks that he hadn't been able to hold you, to kiss you, to just be with you. 
"I'm so sorry, baby," He whispered, leaning so far forward that he slid out of his chair, gently landing on his knees in front of you. 
"Did you really think I wouldn't come for you?" You asked and he shook head. 
"I wasn't sure," he muttered, "I didn't know how tight of a leash they'd have on you because of who you are to me." His brows pulled together in thought and his paranoia began to creep back up the back of his neck. "How did you get out?" 
You smirked down at him, not bothering to wipe at the tears he was catching with his knuckles, "Don't you remember who trained me?" 
He huffed a laugh at that. Nat had trained you when you first joined SHIELD - before he was even brought out of the ice. And you two were like peas in a pod. But when you started dating Steve, the higher ups moved you to a different department, to avoid internal conflict and possible distraction in the field. 
He had no doubt that you didn't leave a trail here - hell, you could've even faked your death to get out from under their thumb. But as he stared up at you, at those tears still falling and the exhaustion swimming in your eyes, he decided that was a talk for tomorrow. Maybe even the day after. 
You reached up to grip his wrists tight, your smirk falling, "Don't you ever go where I can't follow," your voice cracked as you struggled to keep it even. Immediately he understood you were talking about how they vanished into Wakanda to drop off Bucky. Even if you had been tailing them, which you probably were by then, you wouldn't have gotten in without T'Challa's approval. "I thought I lost you." 
All the breath was forced from his lungs as his chest caved. He pulled your head into the crook of his neck, keeping one hand to the back of your head and the other wrapping around to grip at the back of your kevlar suit. Your arms wound around him, holding him so tight, like you were scared he'd vanish again. 
"I won't," He promised the words into the kevlar covering your neck, "I promise." 
He held you like that until his knees went numb, pins and needles starting in his calves and feet, and he pulled away from you, standing again. He pulled you from your chair, taking you upstairs to one of the bedrooms with an adjoining bathroom. 
He showered with you, your eyes barely able to stay open as he peeled off your kevlar for you and washed the dirt and oils and who knew what else from your hair before soaping up the rest of you. Once he had the both of you clean and dry, he tucked you into the bed, curling around behind you, clinging to you. 
He'd been trying so hard not to think about how much he missed you these past few weeks. Focusing so much on keeping those who ran with him hidden and alive that having you here like this, asleep in his hold again, he realized just how much his heart ached for you. How much his soul itself had been crying out for you. 
And now you were here, in his arms as he finally let the fear of never seeing you again go. The fear that you'd been corrupted by the system. That you'd been compromised, or worse. 
He let it all go, savoring the time he had with you before there was a small knock on the door. The pattern of knocks told him it was Nat. 
Trying not to wake you as he got up was a fruitless effort as you turned to face his retreating form and you sat up. 
"Steve?" He turned back to you, "Where are you going?"
Your voice was so small, so tired but so nervous as you asked, the question hitting him in the chest. He walked back to you, cupping your cheeks and placing a kiss on the top of your head. 
"I'm just going to talk to Nat, I'll be right back," He gave you a small smile, "I promise." 
"I want to see her," You tried to get free of his hold to get out of bed but he stopped you. 
"You're exhausted honey," He said, softly pushing you to lie back down, "Go back to sleep. She'll be here in the morning, I'll make sure of it." 
"Okay," You sighed, submitting to the fatigue in your body as you easily slipped back to sleep. He pulled the blankets over you, tucking you back in before heading for the door again. 
His hand gripped the handle, and he turned back to look at you peacefully sleeping, smiling to himself before preparing to hear what the others had been through on their way here. 
Being on the run was going to be rough, and people would be pushed to their limits, but you were with him. And that's all he cared about now.
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cevansbaby-dove · 1 month
Text
The Best Birthday Gift part 2
Pairing:Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Nothing but hurt and a touch of fluff.
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You woke up the next morning to steve's arm draped over your stomach. You smile as you watch him sleep.
You lean over and kiss his cheek then climb out of bed and your legs are like jelly so you land on your butt. thud!
Steve sits up fast. "Who's there!?" He looks around you and hold your hand up. "It's just me..sorry" You push yourself up and sit on the bed. "You did a number on me Cap"
Steve moves over to you. "here I got ya"
You place your hand on his shoulder as you stand and he grabs your hips so you don't fall. "Good morning baby"
You smile. "hi handsome man" He kisses you and says. "So um..will we get questions about this?"
You smile. "Maybe but if they ask us anything we just say I fell asleep in your bed..."
Steve helps you to your room down the hall and he says. "We could be more then a one time thing if you want...I mean..uh..i'm down for it"
You turn and lean on the door frame. "I'll think about it Rogers, thanks again for last night"
He kisses you and says. "See you down there" You close your eyes feeling his beard lightly touch your cheek.
"yes sir" He smiles and walks away. You sigh and walk into your bed room and grab shorts and a shirt and put it on and you take your pill and walk down to the kitchen and Steve is talking to Tony. "Well how was your birthday y/n?" You hear tony ask you as you walk in with a slight smile.
"Good" You grab a cup and Steve is next to you and he whispers in your ear. "I still remember how your mouth tastes"
Tony look up from his newspaper. "What was that?" You turn around. 'Nothing um..the coffee doesn't taste good to Steve"
You smack his arm lightly then he says. "ok ok sorry" He hears Nat and Wanda walk into the kitchen.
"Morning ladies" Nat hugs you. "ugh we are the worst friends ever! I am so so sorry we couldn't be there yesterday"
You smile as you hug her than Wanda. "it's alright girls we will make time in a few days for our day out"
Steve coughs lightly making you look at him with a smirk. "Come on girls we should hang out"
Tony says. 'She and Rogers came in soaked last night they were out in the storm, thank God my rug is clean now"
Nat looks at Steve. "Oh God are you two sick now?" You shake your head. "No we're fine nat" You grab the girls hands and walk away before Steve can say anything.
Steve sighs watching you walk away. Tony says. "What's up Cap?" Steve shakes his head. "Nothing Tony" He takes a sip of his coffee then says. "can I ask you something?"
"Sure man, what's up?" Tony sits at the counter. Steve leans on the counter. "It's about y/n" Tony sighs. "You two fucked didn't you?" Steve's eyes go wide. "Language Tony!"
"well? Didn't you? You know the walls aren't thin..." Steve feels his cheeks go red even under his beard he still blushes. "Well uh...we uh.." he rubs his neck feeling awkward. "yes..."
Tony smiles. "About damn time You found her that way!" Steve blinks. "What?" "She's been super flirty with you and you always looked past that...I'm happy for you Rogers"
You and The girls sit on your bed and Nat says. "So what did you two do?" You smile. "um well we went out for a nice dinner then we went bowling and girls he needs help learning! he thought hitting one pin was a strike! and I won the bowling"
You laugh. "Um then we came back and I wanted to stay in the storm and he asked me to dance with him..."
Wanda says. "In the rain!?" Nat says. "Oh my God that's sweet!!" You giggle. 'yes um then he uh kissed me and the end!"
Nat gives you a questioning look. 'THE END!? Just one kiss and that's it? Y/N...are you hiding something from us?"
You shake your head. "No...I mean uh...I don't um.." Wanda says. "She is hiding something! Come tell us girl!" You laugh. "We had sex?"
Wanda and nat's jaws drop and you say. "it's only one time we are still friends...."
Wanda says. "friends!? how the fuck are you friends after you two...you two...fucked!?"
Nat says. "Friends....with benefits! Oh my God it's about time someone had him rail someone!"
You say. "Sh! tony doesn't know about it..please do not tell him"
Wanda says. "Oh yeah no we won't tell him right Nat?" Nat glances at Wanda smirking. "Won't tell him" You look at them and say. "You two suck at lying"
Nat says. "And you suck at keeping secrets" You smile. "Well..I wasn't sure if Steve wanted to have it out about last night..but I can't lie to my girlssss" You pull them in for a hug and giggle.
Steve hears you girls walk out of the room and your eyes meet and you send him a warm smile and Tony turns in his chair and says. "Oh hello y/n Steve tells me how great your birthday was"
You look at Steve and say. "Um..excuse me?" Tony pours himself a drink and nods. "Hmm hm the walls aren't thin" You feel your face turn red and Wanda says. "Damn I thought we only knew about you two...wow"
Steve says. "ok ok back off all of you please. This was just a one time thing it's not going to happen again." he walks to you."Right?"
You stood there frozen, you loved him but then again the words that just came out of steve's mouth didn't make it sound like he felt the same about you...You bite your lip holding back tears and say. "ri...right it's nothing"
Nat says. "Rogers! why the fuck would you say something like that?" You shake your head and walk out of the kitchen. "What did I say?' Steve said.
Nat sighs. "you just hurt her feelings saying it's nothing..damn man learn us girls! we don't do that just out of lust!"
She storms away and you hear her say behind you. "Sorry about him" You wipe away tears and say. "he's right...it's nothing big..it's just a hook up...nothing more"
Nat sighs. "y/n I can tell when someone is in love and you really do love him don't you?" You nod then face her. "but clearly he doesn't feel the same way"
You scoff. "Just let me be alone" Nat places her hand on your shoulder. "i'm here if you ever need" You nod. "Thanks but I want to be alone" She nods and walks away.
You walk into the training room and grab a gun and think maybe staying sharp will take your mind off of last night..
Bang Goes the gun. Steve's lust filled eyes flash into your mind. You press your lips together loading the gun again. Bang!
You remember how he kissed your neck. You roll your eyes. "Y/n get it together!" you said out loud.
Steve's eyes were on you and you didn't have to turn around to know that. "Come here to say how what we did last night didn't mean anything to you?" You shot another round.
Steve shakes his head. "I'm sorry I didn't think you felt that way about me" You set the gun down and turn to face him.
"Your right Steve...I guess you fucked me just to feel something uh? well don't worry it won't happen again"
You turn to walk away from him when he lightly grabs you arm.
Your eyes meet his and he says."Y/n last night was incredible but it can't happen again, we can't... it was a mistake to do that"
You say. "a mistake!? Oh I'm sorry if I fucked up your night by being nice to you! jesus Christ fine you know what!? I'm done...I am so done being nice to you now let go of me before I hurt you"
Steve drops his hand. You then say. "Stay away from me from now on!" You walk out and tell Tony, "i'm going out I can't stand it here!" You grab your car keys and Tony says. "Lovers fighting?" You turn. "we aren't lovers tony! Steve said it himself its was a mistake"
You slam the door and get into your car and drive away fast.
Last that day Steve gets a call from someone.
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"hello?'
"is this Steve Rogers?"
"yes who is this?"
"My name is Kathy um someone here got into a crash and said to call you her name is y/n...do you know her?" Steve grabs his car keys and rushes out of the tower. "Is she ok?"
"Yes she was t-boned by a drunk but she's on her way to the ER" Steve gets into his car and says. "i'm on my way now thank you" the lady says. "you're welcome"
Steve drives away at a fast speed and lets the team know what happened and Nat says. "We're on our way too oh God did the lady say if y/n was hurt badly??"
"She didn't say God I hope she's ok" Steve runs a red light and then gets to the ER 20 minutes later. He rushes through the sliding doors and looks around. No sign of you anywhere.
Steve walks to the front desk and asks about you and if you were brought in yet. "Yes she is in the ICU she has a few broken ribs and major head trauma."
Steve takes off for the ICU he was now panicking that you might not make it.
Steve walks through doors and then sees the word ICU in a big letters. He makes a mad dash to the doors and sees a Doctor. "Hi um I'm looking for y/n l/n, she was in a car accident."
The doctor nods. "She's in surgery right now she had to be rushed in" Steve's eyes fill up with tears God he was beyond worried about you now.
Steve sits down in the waiting room hoping and praying you'd pull through this.
A/n:Oh no! Reader is in the ICU!! 😱 What will happen next!? Give me your guesses in the comments below :)
Tags:@cutedisneygrl @nicoline1998enilocin @patzammit @armystay89 @bookishtheaterlover7 @eva-knits12 @katherineswritingsblog
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navybrat817 · 2 years
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Finding Home
Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve finds a home with you. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Fluff, brief angst, mention of trauma, mention of explicit sexual content, canon divergent, falling in love, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: It has been difficult finding time to write, but I felt compelled to share something sweet for our lumberjack. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard and banner by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!
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It was a quiet morning when Steve realized he fell in love with you. 
The sun rays warmed his skin as they filtered in through the window, beckoning him to open his eyes. By now he would normally be out for a run before he got to work, but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed today. Not when the weight of your head settled gently on his chest. Not after you soothed him through another nightmare. He didn't have them often, but he kept you up because of them.
You deserved to rest. 
And he didn't want you to leave his arms.
"Steve," you whined, burrowing your face further into his chest when he brushed the pads of his fingers up and down your back. "Still tired."
A soft smile formed on his face as he repeated the motion. "Sorry, sweetheart," he whispered. 
You tilted your head up as you opened your eyes and brought a hand to his cheek. The sleepy expression on your face was one he witnessed before, but he swore he saw into his future as you smiled. What he saw was beautiful and hopeful.
It was everything he thought he wouldn't have before. 
"You okay?" you asked.
Those were the first words you ever said to him. 
No one asked if he needed the opportunity to adjust to being in modern time after being pulled from the ice. Or if he needed the chance to process the grief of losing those closest to him. He went back into the fight without taking the time to do so. Suffering in silence was the new normal for the man out of time.
Especially when he saw the memories of his life on display at the Smithsonian. 
He asked himself time after time why he went back there. Each visit reopened a wound inside that he never let heal. Each photo, recording, and piece of memorabilia cut deep. Tears shed in his mind as everyone saw pieces of his life he never gave permission to show.
Seeing the hologram of himself holding the shield, he wasn't sure who that man was anymore.
He thought he'd feel normal again after the reversal of the snap. Bucky and Sam were back. Natasha was alive. Things were the way they were supposed to be, but the shield felt heavy in his hand. Maybe it wasn't meant for him anymore.
"I need to find myself again."
Bucky understood. He was the one who encouraged him to clear his head for however long he needed. Sam did, too. He also told him that he couldn't imagine a world without Captain America. He looked surprised when the shield was put in his hand. If anyone was worthy of it, it was Sam. Nomad suited him best.
Because he had no home to call his own anymore. 
Steve booked himself a cabin outside of the city. He couldn't explain why he felt the urge to take a break from his drive, but the property he stopped at was breathtaking. The lush trees and soft breeze soothed him. He had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty. 
Guilt ate at him the longer he stood there because people needed him. Bucky and Sam said they'd call, but it didn't ease the weight on his shoulders. They were trying to adjust and he-
"You okay?"
Steve looked beside him at the sound of your voice. You stood on your cabin porch with concern etched on your face. He didn't realize he was standing so close to your porch. If you recognized him as Captain America, you didn't let it show.
The beauty of the scenery was nothing compared to the sight of you. 
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Am I trespassing?"
"Not unless you try to break into my place."
You both smiled. He wouldn't dare, but he did worry at the thought of you being out there alone. Unless you had someone nearby. 
The thought made him a bit jealous and he just met you.
"I really am asking though," you said, taking a step toward him. "Are you okay?" 
You were a stranger, but it felt wrong to lie at the sincerity in your eyes.
"No," he said before he could stop himself. "I don't think I am."
"Is there anything I can do?"
When was the last time someone offered him kindness with no strings attached?
He practically heard Bucky in his ear encouraging him to take a chance. 
"Could use a cup of coffee if you have any."
To his surprise, you agreed.
"Just to warn you," you looked over your shoulder as you turned toward the door. "I have an axe if you try anything funny."
You made him laugh when you winked, the first genuine laugh he could remember in years. 
You told him over coffee that you were a writer. As much as you loved the city, being away from the noise helped inspire your stories. You were easy to talk and listen to, a comforting presence in a world filled with fear and uncertainty. Even after he finished his drink, he found himself wanting to carry on a conversation. You didn't seem to be in a hurry for him to leave either. 
Bucky was proud that he asked you to meet him again. 
Natasha assured him that you had a clean background, even though he didn't ask for her to check. 
"Can't be too careful, Rogers, but she's good."
Dealing in a world of spies, it was nice to speak to someone who was honest. 
It became a routine to stop by and see you for coffee. He always did so with your permission. He noticed that you kept a couple of his favorite treats stocked up that he mentioned in passing. You paid attention, but didn't make a show of it. 
Steve never once felt invisible with you. 
He found the axe you referenced and chopped some firewood as a small thank you for your kindness. It was the least he could do and you were thankful that you didn't have to do it yourself.
"You know, Steve, with your beard and the flannel, you'd make a good looking lumberjack."
He took your words to heart. 
It was a risky job at times, but he was used to danger. The tasks put him at ease and it gave him a chance to use some of his strength. It brought him back to the memory of Clint's farm, but without the inner turmoil. 
When he told you he liked to draw, too, you smiled and encouraged him to keep doing it. You stressed that he needed a healthy outlet. The longer he was around you, the more he wanted to take his stress out on your amazing body. 
Oh, the chemistry was there from the beginning. He sensed it when he was close. The racing of your heart, your pupils dilating, and even the subtle change in your scent. He picked up on thanks to the serum.
But you were a friend first when he needed it most.
When he told you he was going on a mission, as Nomad, you didn't try to talk him out of it. You understood the need for him to keep fighting. You only asked if he could let you know he was okay. 
Everyone noticed a visible difference in him because he had someone to come home to.
"Bring me back something good?" you smiled when he returned to you. 
He almost missed when he attempted your first kiss. At the end of the day, he was still the scrawny kid from Brooklyn. And you were the one who stole his heart. He just didn't know it at the time.
People called him a hero, but you saved him. 
I think I loved you the moment I met you. 
"Steve? You okay?" you asked again, bringing him back to the present.
"I'm okay," he promised.
"I lost you for a second," you said, blinking more of the sleep from your eyes. "You didn't have another nightmare and not wake me, did you?"
He hated being the cause of you not getting enough rest, but you never complained. Whether it was talking or letting him use you, you'd rather stay awake and soothe him than let him face his demons alone. While many followed his lead, very few chose to walk beside him. 
"You didn't lose me," he answered. You never would. "And no more nightmares."
Thanks to you. 
He placed his hand over yours and imagined what it would feel like to have a ring on your finger. 
In time, he'd get you the perfect ring. 
You smiled before you glanced at the clock on the end table with wide eyes. "You're missing your run," you said. 
When you attempted to sit up, he wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you in place. He smirked as he recalled the first time he used his strength on you. The way you chanted his name like a prayer and worshiped him like a god, it was the closest he'd get to heaven on earth. 
"We're staying here," he said, his lips brushing against yours as he caged you in. "That's an order."
"Are you ever not bossy?" you asked as he settled between your thighs. 
"You like it when I'm a little bossy," he reminded you. It always got a reaction out of you. "So stay here."
"You know what will happen if we stay here," you smirked as you rolled your hips up, causing him to groan. Your smirk fell away as your gaze softened. "But we can spend all day in bed as long as you're okay."
Steve traced his finger along your cheek, like he was drawing you on the sketchpad you bought for him. You constantly did thoughtful things for him. Seeing you like this, with the same sincerity in your eyes as the day you met, he couldn't waste another second. 
"I love you," he whispered. 
His finger stopped at your lips when you sharply inhaled, tracing them, before he pulled it away to kiss you. If you didn't say it back, it was okay. He would wait as long as he had to. 
"I love you, too."
You breathed the words into his mouth and everything felt right. He didn't do his run or get any work done that day. You didn't get a single word written. It didn't matter because Steve was a man in love. 
And Nomad found a home.
*****
Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ KoFi
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holylulusworld · 10 months
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Holidays on the run (2)
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Summary: You and Steve didn’t part ways on good terms. What happens when you end up in the same cabin on Christmas?
Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader
Warnings: language, enemies to ???, cliché tropes, snowed in, banter, angst, mentions of former imprisonment
Divider by @firefly-graphics​
<< Part 1
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“So, how did you spend your free time since the big showdown?” You watch Steve walk back into the living room after he changed into an old shirt and a pair of jeans. “If you refuse to talk to me, this will be a fucking long night.”
“That mouth on you,” he snaps at you. “See, you don’t have manners and show respect to no one.”
“Why should I respect someone betraying his team, friend, and the world? You ran to play hide and seek with your old buddy.”
“I ran as I had no other choice. The moment I decided against signing the accords things went downhill. Ross would’ve never allowed me and the others to come back. Bucky was innocent. He did not kill T'Chaka. It was all Zemo’s doing.”
“Well shit, Cappy,” you chuckle. “Why not explain the situation to Stark, Ross, and the others? If your friend was innocent you could’ve…” You huff. “I guess Tony is pissed because your friend killed his parents.”
“He wasn’t himself back then. They used him like a blunt tool. All the things they did to Bucky…” Steve’s features sadden. “If only I knew he survived the fall. I could’ve…”
“…Done shit.” You shrug. “Did you forget that you landed in the ice to save the world? Bucky would’ve been their tool of destruction either way. How should you have known he survived the fall?”
“Tony will never talk to me again. And Ross, he’ll arrest all of us for worse than insubordination. I cannot give them Bucky’s location. He’s safe and at peace for the first time in over fifty years.”
“Hmm…” you walk toward the window to stare into the darkness. It doesn’t feel right sending Steve away, but at the same time, you don’t want to get involved in another fight. “I was at peace here too, Captain.”
“How can you compare your situation with Bucky’s? He was brainwashed and armed with a new cybernetic arm. For over fifty years, he was forced to eliminate people at Hydra’s order.
“Christ, get a room with your buddy, Rogers,” you grunt. “I didn’t have an easy life after you and your team kicked me out. What did you think would happen to me? Huh?”
“What do you mean?”
You twirl around to glare at Steve. “I got kicked out of the Avengers. No one would hire me. I gave up the chance to work for the FBI and ended up without a job. I had to come here as I had nowhere to turn to.”
“We got no home and no place to stay either. If we had one, I’d offer you a place to stay.”
“Lie.”
“I did not lie,” he grumbles. “You know that.”
“Yeah. But you would hate taking me in.” you give Steve your best bitch face. “Am I right, Captain? You never liked me. Not only my attitude.”
“It was difficult to work with you. We just didn’t…click.” He crosses his arms over his chest, making his muscles bulge. “Not like me and Natasha or Sam.”
“We didn’t have to,” you make air quotes, “click.“ You shake your head at your stupidity. It was stupid of you to believe the Avengers saw you as a team member, an equal even. “I get it. You didn’t like me from the beginning and decided to turn me into an outcast.”
“You did this to yourself.”
You’ve got enough. “Fuck you!”
Steve gasps when you unlock the door. “What are you doing?” He watches you open the door, swallowing thickly as you grab his bag to throw it out of the cabin. “Y/N!”
“Get out of my sight and cabin. You’re not welcome here!” You storm toward Steve to wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging hard.
“Y/N, stop. I won’t leave!”
“I don’t give a single fuck if you are homeless at the moment or shit. You want me to respect you? How could I respect a man who never showed compassion when it comes to someone else but his buddies!”
“Y/N…doll,” he sighs. “I’m a drifter in an unknown sea. All my life I wanted to serve and protect people. Now everyone I respected and worked for turned their back on me.”
“Welcome to my world, Captain,” you snap at Steve. “That’s exactly what happened to me thanks to you. If you get sent home for insubordination by Captain America, your life is over.”
“Shit,” he sighs deeply. “I didn’t know my decision affected you in such a manner. All of us believed you’ll find a new team in no time. You’re strong and smart. Just a little too hot-headed.”
“Says the guy starting a war for his buddy.”
“Can I stay for a few days? We could talk about Strange and the things he said. Maybe you’ll see, I’m not the bad guy in this story.”
“No. You’re not the bad guy, but the asshole ruining my career.” You drop your hand from his wrist. “You can stay until the snowstorm is gone.”
Steve watches you walk back toward the door. You slam it shut and turn back around. Tonight, you won’t talk to Steve. You walk past him. 
“Y/N, wait. Listen…I…”
“Save it, Captain. You should have a rest too.”
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“No! I—stop!” Steve breaks through your bedroom door when he hears screams coming from inside your room.
“Y/N! Down…I…” He looks around the room, frowning as your dog jumps onto your bed to nuzzle your cheek. “Doll, are you alright? Did something happen?”
“Go back to your room.” You don’t look at Steve, too ashamed to admit that you are suffering from nightmares almost every night. “Nothing happened.”
“You’re having nightmares.” He steps inside your room. “That’s not nothing.”
You roll your eyes. “What do you want to do about it, Captain? Do you want to sit on the edge of my bed and tell me everything is going to be alright? Cause that won’t work.”
“Why do you have nightmares?”
“That’s none of your fucking business. I told you to go back to your room and leave me alone.”
Cerberus nudges your upper arm. He whines and tries to get your attention. 
“Your dog is a protector.”
“He’s well trained, is all. That’s not rocket science if you know how to treat a dog right. Respect and authority in balance. The dog must respect you and accept your authority. In return, you respect the dog for being the wonderful creature they are.”
Steve watches you pat Cerberus’ head. He wonders if he made a mistake casting you out. Maybe you would’ve been a strong ally. A reliable one, knowing to distinguish a lie from the truth.
“As I said. A good dog,” Steve mumbles. “Can we talk about your nightmares now? You looked like you’re fighting the devil himself in your sleep.”
“Hydra. Or rather the wolf hiding behind Shield’s façade,” you sneer. “What did you think happened to me when I had to leave the Avengers? I tried to work for Shield. Sadly, the first guy I met was Rumlow, and I immediately knew he was a lying son of a bitch.”
“You knew? Why did you not…?” He cocks his head when you turn your head to not look at him. “What happened?”
“I don’t know how he knew…but he knew that I saw through his façade. I ended up in a cell, somewhere in the middle of nowhere.” You shudder as memories of your time with Shield flash up before your eyes. “Rumlow knew what I’m capable of too. They forced me to use my powers when they interrogated people. I tried to resist but… I didn’t stand a chance..”.
You sniffle.
“Hydra knows how to make you compliant,” Steve softly says. He steps further into the room, nearing your bed. “You didn’t lie when you said you feel at peace for the first time.”
“I can’t go out there and risk that Hydra finds me again. I just can’t…” your voice cracks. “Please don’t make me go out there.”
“I won’t.” Steve sits on the edge of your bed. “I promise. If you go out there, I’ll be by your side from now on…”
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ronearoundblindly · 2 months
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Hideout (2)
touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader
Sweet Baby (see previous or series)
Summary: 'Grant' becomes comfortable enough to tell you who he is, and you get comfortable enough to show him the kindness he deserves.
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Warnings for description of minor blood/injury and light smut (mentions of morning wood, dry humping, hair pulling, praise kink? maybe coached orgasm?). This series is 18+ only. MINORS DNI. There is plenty else for you youngins to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2.6k
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Warmer months are for updating the rooms, so they are on a rotation of renovation. There are really busy times and really slow times based on events in town, but there’s an understanding with Grant’s ‘party’ of friends that, if needed, they can stay in the room closed for repair. It’s not as if any room is uninhabitable when they need a coat of paint and some plumbing tune-ups.
Clark doesn’t remember you told him about this—you used the excuse that Grant ’s company are handymen (and women) who come in between other jobs,—so the front desk kid calls you while you’re out running errands one day.
Two ‘dudes’ want to stay in room eight on the end. So? Let them. Those are the people who fix things. Clark just says “kay.”
When you pull into the lot hours later, you don’t expect to find Grant sitting on the curb, filthy and exhausted in some gym clothes, a plastic bag set at his feet.
“Wha’ch’a waiting for?” you call with the window down, hoping his spirits can lift easily.
Grant peers up at you through long lashes. He’s had a knock-down drag-out with a field of bramble…or something. That’s when you notice dark, dried blood in the grime stuck to him, and he lets out a long sigh.
“Sa—Tom used all the hot water,” he huffs, “so I’m biding my time.”
Their room’s water tank, the one due for maintenance, is going to take an eternity to reheat, and it’s the worst luck that there really are no other rooms available.
“Hop on in. You can use the bath up at the house.”
He looks just as startled as you by the invitation, but in no simple terms can you express how bad it is to have a huge guy covered in blood hanging out in front of your rural motel. That’s horror movie bait.
You know Grant. You trust him. All he needs is to clean himself up.
He checks behind him again. The same mix of seeking approval or seeking the cover of ignorance returns to his pretty features, and he trots over to the passenger seat of the car, plastic bag in hand.
He helps you bring in the groceries and supplies from town even though you point him in the direction of the upstairs bathroom immediately. There’s a big jacuzzi tub in there, and he is welcome to soak for however long he wants. You’ll even wash his clothes in the mean time, if he’d like.
Grant seems hesitant to accept or argue.
You press on.
Showing him where everything is in the bathroom takes a minute. You fish around a cupboard for the muscle-relaxing milk additive, explaining it may help him…if needed. You don’t know what’s happened, so you’re flying blind for options.
When the tap turns off ten minutes later, silence descends, but he never handed you stuff to wash. You knock and try the door, just to crack it open so he can hear you.
First, you notice the color of the water. He used the milk bath alright, but whatever washed immediately off him has saturated and soured the clean white into a rusty tan. Second, you pick up the pile of clothes and find more in the plastic bag, except…it’s a suit with a star decal half-ripped and dangling from the chest. Third, you realize you can’t see him in the water at all, not his feet, not his head, no bubbles, so you rush in and shove your hands beneath the surface.
He shoots up in alarm, gasping and sloshing to a different wide, rounded corner of porcelain.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you shriek, hands out and spread wide. “I just thought—I don’t know—I didn’t know if you’d—sorry!”
He rubs his hands down his face and over his dripping hair. He doesn’t even speak; he just waves for you to stop apologizing and clears water shot up his nose.
You have to collapse to the fuzzy rug and hold your heart before it beats right out of your ribcage. You still repeat “sorry” a few more times and then manage an impressed “wow, you kept all the water in.”
He thunks his head back to the lip of the tub and props up one leg, his knee cresting the surface. “I have a talent…”
The dirt, despite how much clearly came off already, is smeared grossly across him.
He looks so tired.
“May I—“ you grab the shampoo bottle all the way at his feet “—help?”
Defeated in more ways than one, he nods through the same concerned and confused gaze that’s become his signature. He maneuvers nearer you while you carefully wet your hands, starting a lather. His head stays down, spine exposed, as you massage at the base of his skull.
His eyes shut.
Your heart now swells with accomplishment; you gave this man a moment of peace.
Fingers gliding over the sinewy, tight bands beneath soft hairs, you press circles around and around his scalp. He cranes backwards while you move up and over the crown of his head, and by just above his ears, he’s laying his full weight in the water, lax against the rim.
You keep going long after his hair is strictly clean, though you’ll recommend he rinse after soaking because the water is too foul to count on.
He remains quiet, so you dip your hands in the water at his shoulders, shake them about, and move on to scrubbing his face clean, too, working down from the hairline and over his beard.
Somewhere around his throat, the man sniffs.
He sniffs again, raising a hand from the water to stop yours.
“My name isn’t…” His eyes open finally, only to stare blankly at the ceiling. “My name is Steve.”
“Okay,” you say, abandoning the washing to sit back on the mat again. “Do you want me to call you that or Grant?”
He turns, brows furrowed, and in the most authoritative voice, he replies, “you can’t tell anyone.”
You rest your chin on the lip of the tub, too. “I know. I won’t.”
Eyes locked, you two stare at each other for a long beat.
“The Captain America suit kinda gave it away though,” you whisper, and to your surprise and delight, Steve flicks water at you in retaliation.
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, “handle yourself in here while I go start the laundry.”
You stretch and almost—almost—kiss his forehead because, for whatever reason, that feels right, but at the last second you tuck your head down, acting like you were just standing up. You can’t bring yourself to look back at him while gathering the clothes.
You keep busy downstairs, scrubbing at a few spots of caked on muck, trying not to listen to the sounds of splashing, the squeaking as he moves around, the rush of the draining bath, and the tap turning back on to rinse him again. You scramble to find the biggest t-shirt and pair of pants you own (although, come to think of it, Steve’s got fairly small hips, so you grab some stretchy sweats) and hand them through the door when realizing he has nothing else to wear.
He emerges with several visible cuts and scrapes but dismisses your offer to treat them.
“It’s not worth the effort. They’ll be gone by morning.”
You’ve decided something: if he doesn’t bring it up, you won’t either.
Whatever he wants to tell you, whenever he wants to tell it, you don’t ask. You are used to keeping guests’ confidence—not that anyone tells you deep, dark secrets, but you refuse to gossip about cleanliness or things in the trash—and ‘Grant’ will be no different.
You can, however, still tease him.
“Ready to share that queen bed with Tom?” You give his beefy arm a playful punch.
Steve groans.
“Kidding,” you beam. “I’m not making you walk that path in the dark right now. An elk could get ya!”
He pinches tired eyes, a ghost of a smirk realigning the hairs of his beard. You imagine that on any other day, he would put up more of a fight, but he’s fought enough.
“Yeah, okay. As long as I won’t scare the daylights out of your parents by being on the couch in the morning.” Steve steps over to the landing at the top of the stairs.
“They’re at a hospitality conference. I run the place…mostly. Besides, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t offer you a bed that fits you?” You dramatically bow and indicate your room. “This way, please, sir.”
Good thing he has no fight left in him. His eyes narrow adorably, but he doesn’t budge.
“I should let Tom know.”
“There is a phone in there, too. I’ll dial room eight.”
You get him some water, hanging his clothes to dry, offering as much privacy as you can in an old house with thin walls.
“Yeah, hi, it’s…yes, yes, I’m… Yeah, I know. I know, Sam, just—you don’t have to laugh about it. She let me use the bath, is all. You’re the one who—Well, don’t take all the damn wa—hello? Hello?” Steve is staring at the receiver of the land line when you appear in the doorway. “Uh, he…gets it.”
He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing around your neither childish nor sterile room. You put the glass down on your side table instead of handing it to him.
“Okay, I think you need rest,” you add, sweeping your hand down his bare arm.
You marvel at how the edges of his cuts are already shrinking, knitting back together in near-realtime. Your fingertips trace around the skin like an interactive roadmap.
First heal this, then he needs this, and this is deeper here.
You wonder whether he feels pain the same as everyone else. Is it dulled? Does he just have to ignore how much and how frequently he hurts because it goes away sooner? That’s a sad thought to you. Just because he’ll be okay, doesn’t mean he should suffer more.
He’s a miracle. As Grant, Steve, Cap, or nobody at all, he’s still a miracle.
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“You don’t have to go…”
The last of the evening blurs as you wake, but you remember Steve needed this. He asked you to stay.
Spooning is the only way to fit on the bed together. After finishing your own bedtime routing, you began behind the giant man, curled tight, lightly scratching over his broad shoulders and arms. He fell asleep so quickly, and you don’t recall how long after that you both turned over. You had to drape Steve’s awkward arm around you, show him he could hold you close, assure him he can be as comfortable as he likes.
Whichever way he settled is infinitely better than falling off the bed, and you’re grateful he’s accommodating in a small space. You suppose he has to be. Though, for a man as dense as a brick wall, he is shockingly pliant around you. 
Shame you have to stretch, ruining the picture of fitting puzzle pieces you’ve become.
Arms out and legs long, you roll, restless on the one side for too long in the night. Steve shifts around your moves, laying his head on your arm instead of the pillow. His arm that was your pillow wedges down by your waist instead.
Your knees knock his, so even in sleep, he lets them slot through, legs entangled and…his erection laying over your thigh, the tip poking your hip.
Your body tenses for a split second, the muscles of your leg brush harder against his cock, and Steve groans softly, the arm draped over you pulling your body closer.
He’s still asleep, breathing easy, his features totally relaxed.
His golden hair shines in the early light, and he’s so, so beautiful.
You move stray locks from his face, enjoying how he nuzzles and sighs as you play. Quiet, lazy touches.
His hips nudge forward for friction. His fingers grab at your nightshirt. One of his shifts angles his length to drive against your mound instead, and you gasp involuntarily, having smothered your excitement for too long.
He stirs, a heavier, longer breath followed by Steve's whole body going rigid and his eyes squeezing shut. He tries to bury his face in your arm, and you can’t help it. You hope he’ll continue.
You shush him, carding through his hair to soothe him as you did in the bath.
There’s nothing wrong.
He can feel good.
He should feel good.
You want him to feel good. Hell, you don’t say it, but you need to make him feel good.
Steve still won’t face you. He leans closer, shielding himself with your chest, but he doesn’t pull his hips away.
You can hear him thinking through his options groggily, and in your nervousness, you pull at the fistful of hair in your hand.
Steve whimpers and juts his pelvis forward.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Did you like that? Does that feel nice, Stevie?”
His abs flutter with a spasming exhale, but he says nothing. His rough hands dig into your back while he desperately seeks more friction.
You let him—you encourage him—to keep going.
“Whatever you need…it’s okay.”
He pants into your skin, making you sweat while he dissolves into a mewling mess of shame, taking what he deserves.
He bends his leg for leverage, the sole of his foot pressing flush to your calf. You feel his thumping heartbeat along all of your skin that touches his. He swallows moans which sound hollow and deep where they die in his chest before Steve grunts and stretches, the whole underbelly of his cock rubbing your inner thigh and baiting your clit mercilessly with almost-contact.
You release his hair, asking “do you want my han—”
But it’s too late.
Steve seizes you in his last moments hard before he stills, palms so wide you’ll feel the marks over an entire shoulder blade and the breadth of skin from your ass to your ribcage.
You yelp, the nails of your trapped hand clawing at the sheets around you. It’s a good pain. It’s worth it to witness how his body melts into yours after he comes. He’s lax and heavy, pathetic convulsions of ecstasy subsiding.
You’re only just starting to feel the wet fabric on your thigh when he peels away and rushes to the bathroom.
The best thing for him is to act normal. It is normal for him to be hard in the morning, to want contact and satisfaction, and the truth is it’s perfectly normal for you to dream of providing that for him. You want that contact with him. You are satisfied when he is satisfied.
That's scary because it's a secret as hidden from you both as his identity now, but you won't talk about it. If he doesn't ask, then he doesn't want the answer. It's better that way.
So that was okay, and this is okay.
It's okay, and you tell him when you bring his gym clothes back to the door. You repeat it as he walks out of your home unable to look you in the eye, his partially-destroyed past life wadded up in a fresh plastic bag.
At the bottom of the porch steps, he turns, still focused on the ground.
“Thank you for the…the bath.”
You can’t tell anyone about him—about how you feel for him—not even him. It wouldn’t be right. He doesn’t want that.
“I’m glad you feel better, Grant.”
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A/N: Google, Play 'Hopelessly Devoted To You.' *starts weeping some more*
[Next Part: Sensitive Boy, Part I]
[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes
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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year
Text
Captain Soldier, Part 7
Summary:  You just need Steve to comfort you
Parings:  Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating:  explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, praise kink, size kink, unprotected sex, PIV sex, degradation, breeding kink, mentions of a gang bang, implied cockwarming, 18+ ONLY
Word Count:  2.1K
Previous
Series Masterlist
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“Fine,” you deadpan, looking amongst the Boys, Ben, Bucky, and Steve.  This was the best plan that they could come up with, and it was stupid.  So stupid, but in the words of Steve and Soldier Boy Ben, this was the best way to keep you safe.  It didn’t matter.  None of it actually mattered anymore.  “Just use me, and a fake pregnancy as bait.”
“Are we for sure I didn’t fuck a baby in you?  I mean, Princess, you were screaming on my cock, and had my cum leaking out of you for days.  Super soldier sperm has got to be pretty potent,” Ben smiles at you.  His face said different things than his words.  There was a sweetness to his face, but was it because you wanted there to be?  Were you struggling that hard to believe that the soldier you had fallen for was in fact a prick?  
Could you even handle that degrading talk?  I mean…you could, you just needed him to realize that he would need to respect you in front of people.  His words made you weak, and whine his name.  But he needed to understand there was a time and place that he was allowed to talk to you like that.
You know you are being dramatic, but you needed a breather.  Everything seemed to be happening so fast, and you couldn’t keep up.  Steve was here, and you wanted a moment alone with him.  He was right there, and you were needy for him.  He came back looking even more attractive than when he left.  He had no right to come back with a filthy super suit, and arms that looked like they could choke the life out of you, and then hold gently as you come down from your high.  
You take a staggering breath, and stand to leave the group.  Bucky was being ridiculously sweet, but you couldn’t handle petting someone right now.  Ben was ready to devour you, but you didn’t need something that hard.  Was that why this odd pairing would work?  Were you that needy that you could have a group of men that would give you the type of sex you needed at that moment.  
“Fine, decide my fate for me,” you proclaim, leaving the group and going into a room by yourself.  You knew it wouldn’t be long.  Steve was extremely intuitive of your needs.  
Soldier Boy moves to stand right along with you, but Bucky shoves him back down on the chair, “What the fuck?”
“Stay here,” he growls at the man, while Steve slowly walks after you.  
“No, now…I’m the one that’s been fucking her, she needs me.”
“She doesn’t need to be fucked right now.  She needs a moment to be praised and worshiped,” Butcher looks between the two of the super soldiers, opening his mouth, before placing a finger over his nose in thought.
“This brood got a golden cunt or something?  She’s got all three of you geezers eating out of the palm of her hand like some fucking sex goddess.  Her stamina must be one that needs to be studied.”
“She gets off on overstimulating pleasure,” Soldier Boy shrugs his shoulders.  “And yes, it’s the sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.  God, I want all her fuckign whore holes filled with super soldier cock.  She gets so fucking needy.  That hungry little cunt…mmm, yeah, juiciest peach I ever tasted.”
“Could you…keep that talk in the bedroom,” Bucky demands, glaring at him.  And when Soldier Boy stands to walk where you were, Bucky puts his cybernetic hand around his throat.  “At ease, Soldier.  I told you to let them be.”
“You going to let him fuck our girl without us?”
“You see, if you want this to work, you’ve got to realize she can’t have us at all times.  Steve is tending to her needs.  He is who she needs right now.  You are overwhelming her, and…she’s not in the right mind frame for me.”
“You blokes are a bunch of crazy ass mother fuckers.  Sharing a fucking cunt like that?” When Soldier Boy and Bucky turn and look towards Butcher, he throws his hands up in surrender.  “My apologies.  Share the twat all you want.  Leave your squabbles out of the group.  Turn on a TV or something.  I have a feeling we’re going to be hearing from them.”
Steve walks into the makeshift bedroom, finding you playing with your hair, and staring out into space.  His only goal now was to keep you safe.  Something he should have done two years ago.  He never should have left you.  You were feeling guilty for being with someone else, and he wasn’t even mad.  “Princess?”
“I don’t wanna talk Steve,” you look up at him through your lashes.  Your pupils were a dark sea of lust.  Biting at your lip, you look over the thick body of the new Steve.  He was sexier now than when he left.  His ruggedness turned you on more than you care to admit.  Looking at his solid suit, you remember the times he made you ride his thigh before missions.  Leaving your slick coated on the material.  
“Princess, you need…”
“I need to feel you.  Make me remember how much you love me,” standing up, your fingers expertly start removing his suit.  It wasn’t something you hadn’t done before.  And when his broad chest springs free, you marvel at the beauty of this man. Kissing up his pillowy pecs, while gazing up at him.  Your hand lays gently over his heart, and you sigh at the feeling of his steady rhythm.  
“I need you, Steve,” he clears his throat, and you give him a wicked smile, “I need you, daddy,” grabbing at your legs, Steve has you laid out on the bed quickly.  His hands desperately pulling off your clothes, sighing when he sees the wet flesh in between your legs.  “Did you wait on me?” You give him your innocently little pout, and he nods his head.
You wanted to be sad that you weren’t faithful, “No one will ever compare to you, my beautiful sweet Princess,” pulling down his pants, his cock springs free, and you whimper at the sight of beads of precum at his tip.  “Are you sure that IUD is still in there?”
“It better fucking be,” Steve chuckles, crawling over top of you.  His cock was warm and heavy on your thigh, and he lines it up.  You didn’t want to wait.  “Steve, just…” in one thrust he has his cock planted balls deep in your cunt.  Hitching his hips, he pulls himself out, and only the tip remains.  Your pussy attempts to suck him back in while you whine up at him.  “Daddy!  Please, daddy, I need it.”
“I know you do,” Steve pets around your face gently, but he stabs himself back into you with a harsh force.  You let out a desperate moan, and cling to his arms.  “You take me so well.  Love to be full of me.  Remember the first time?  I had to basically make it fit.  You had these pretty little tears coasting down your face, but you let my fat cock stretch you out wide.  This pussy was made for me, huh?”
“Yeah!  Daddy, go harder!” His hips piston in you, and you can feel yourself melting.  Becoming completely pliant for his motions.  Fingernails dig into his thick arms when he starts pounding you into the bed.  You were always his cockslut.  So easily folded at the power of Steve Rogers.  
Steve looks down at where the two of you connect, watching your cunt swallow him balls deep, and the severe stretch.  It was like he was turning you inside out.  You walls were clinging to him.  Your pussy was a sight to behold.  It didn’t matter how big, she took it.  Didn’t matter if you whined, Steve would make it fit.  
Spreading out your thighs he pushes them against the bed, and pounds even harder.  Your neglected clit was begging for attention, but your pussy was still quivering around him.  His cock coated in your cream, and you were already zoning out.  It was so easy to fuck you dumb.  Get you out of your head, so you could actually rest.  
“Look at this greedy little cunt.  She’s already came twice, and she’s begging for more.  Doesn’t even want to let me go.  Sucking me back in every fucking time.  She’s such a good girl, just like you.  There, there, Princess. Let daddy Steve take care of you.  Take care of everything.”
There was not much more that Steve loved than to watch your body bounce around with his motions.  Your tits rippling with every stab into you.  Your head starts to drift to the side, and you bite at your lip.  You had him in a vice grip.  Clenching around his length so hard.  Screaming out his name as your eyes roll in the back of his head.  It hadn’t quite been long enough, but Steve couldn’t take it.  Couldn’t handle the pulsing of your walls around him as you try to milk him dry.
He spurts deep into you core, but keeps fucking you.  Watching as he pulls out of your cunt, only for it to be shoved back in.  Making grabby hands up at him, but he couldn’t stop.  Couldn’t stop staring at how well your cunt still squeezed him so tight.  How you accommodated every girthy inch of his thick cock.  
Pulling his cock out of you, a bit more cum pushes out of his tip, and he shoves it back in.  “Leaving none to waste, my darling.  There, there,” his thick hand soothingly rubs over your face.  “Daddy is gonna take good care of you.  Come here,” sitting on the bed, he pulls you over into his lap, cradling you in his arms.
“Daddy, I feel empty.”
“I know, sweet girl,” still holding you tight against his chest, his pushes three fingers into your waiting and ruined cunt, and you moan at the feeling.  “You want Bucky to come and lick you clean like the good pup he is?  Or you just want me right now?”
“Just you,” you pout up at him, and Steve leans over to kiss you on your forehead.  “You think we can stop Homelander?”
“I think you need sleep.  Let’s not worry about him right now.  Can you not cockwarm Bucky while you sleep?  That way you can wake up to him thrusting into you like a needy little pup?” Whimpering up at him, you nod your head.  “Okay, get some sleep.  Once you have those sweet little dreams, we’ll let Bucky’s cock keep you filled okay?”
“Okay.  I love you,” your eyes misty, shine up at him, and he leans to kiss from your forehead down to your pouty mouth, whispering just how much he loves you.
“We’re going to keep you safe, and then we’ll see if you can really handle super soldier cock.  I know you can.  You’re such a good girl who always takes what she’s given.  But get some sleep.  You’re going to be very busy, Princess,” his fingers wiggle around in your cunt a moment.  Digging around, until he finds what he was looking for, “It’s still there.  We’ll have some fun before we take it out.  I would love to see you bred like a little bitch dog.  Have that swollen cunt ready to take all our cocks.  We just fuck you full of cum, and may the best man win.  Have you so big and round with one of our babies.  Don’t you want that?” You give him a head nod as you slowly drift to sleep.  
Steve’s fingers were right on the strings.  It wouldn’t take much to pull that contraption out of you.  But the idea of enjoying all your holes filled, and you just a pile of mush on the bed while they used you like their little sex doll made him leave it in you.  What the others would do with it, wasn’t his concern, but fuck the visions he had of your makeup destroyed while you look back at them destroying your holes.  You could take it.  Or at least, they wouldn’t stop until they had you stretched over all of them.  Stuffed full and ready to breed.  
Taking his fingers out of your ruined hole, he moves them to your mouth, where you suckle on them like a little baby.  His thick cum spilling out over your mouth, you seriously were the perfectly needy sex baby.  Desperate and hungry for cock.  Thick and veiny super soldier cock, and they were all happy to oblige.  Happy to give you whatever it was you needed.  And right now, you need to keep Bucky warm.  You always slept better when you had a cock inside of you.  You needed sleep.  Needed peace.
“Buck!” He smiles, laying you on the bed.  It was a shame he didn’t get to see you choking Bucky while you fucked him.  But in time.  All in good time.  And it would be worth the wait.
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sleepisaturn · 2 years
Text
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the beard needs to go
PAIRING—steve rogers x gf!reader
SUMMARY—You badly want to be the one who shaves Steve's beard off
WARNINGS—pure fluff, allusions to sexy times but no actual smut, the plot is mostly about Steve's beard lol
A/N—random but this was inspired by that scene of Me Before You where Will let's Lou shave his beard, also that movie will never not break me , pure heartbreak! 😭😭
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In the bathroom, infront of the mirror as the morning sun rose, the couple found themselves in a very difficult situation, well you found it difficult.
" do we have to? "
" we have to ... "
" but I love your beard! and it's great in the bedroom! " You whined while cupping his face, his beard slightly tickling the palm of your hands. You sat on the counter, back against the mirror as Steve's hands rested on your hips.
" so you just love it because it makes the sex good? " Steve asked with a laugh, teasingly while tilting his head on the side.
" of course not, I love it because it makes you and the sex hotter " You reply with enthusiasm and a teasing grin in return as Steve chuckles back.
" glad to know, but unfortunately it has to go, so say goodbye because I'm shaving it tonight baby " He said with fake sadness in his tone as he sighs while cupping your face and giving your soft lips a long kiss.
" nooo! at least let me shave it "
" absolutely not "
" oh come on! please babe?? " you beg lightly while doing puppy dog eyes paired with your cute lips pouting hoping to persuade the super soldier.
" yeah that's not working " He exits the bathroom leaving you pouting as you sit on the counter top.
" bring me coffee! " You shout as you hear the bedroom door close. Steve's always the one who makes breakfast and your favorite coffee will always be the one made by him.
The rest of the day goes on with you trying your best to persuade Steve to let you shave his beard. Even as the two of you drank the morning coffee you still annoyed him with the question of let me shave off your beard?
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The couple chose to go to a mall, having a mall date for the rest of the afternoon. You bought some clothes for both Steve and yourself even if he insisted he didn't need any more clothes. You even bought a couple pairs of lingerie that you knew he would enjoy, secretly that is for the surprise effect. Steve bought a couple of art supplies, hoping to start painting more for the rest of his technically retirement days.
You and Steve chose to eat at a pizza shop that wasn't too busy, a big plate of cheesy pizza paired with two glasses of cold cola.
" my beard so long I have to pick food out of it "
" I could pick the food out of it for you! "
" you're joking "
" I'm totally joking " You say with a laugh as you continue taking a bite out of your cheesy pizza slice.
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Steve was washing the dishes after dinner, the plain white tee he wore getting splashed a bit by the water. He turned off the faucet as he had done half of the dirty dishes.
" Oh Steve~ " You say in a sing-song tune as you untie your robe in which you had nothing underneath catching the blonde Captain who was washing the dishes off-guard, the dirty dishes now abandoned.
He quickly captures your lips with a deep moan as you giggle, almost stumbling back with the impact of his large body. His large hands immediately held on tightly to your waist, lifting you up with no effort as he leads the two of you to the bedroom.
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As you calm your breath after the great countless orgams, you rest your head on his bare chest with a smile while your hands wrap around his torso and his arms wrap automatically around your shoulders. The two of you smile with bliss as the two of you even out your breathings, still a bit red and sweaty from the tiring activity.
" You did that to convince me to let you shave my beard didn't you? " Steve says after a couple minutes with a little laugh at the end. He gripped your form tighter as his head rested on top of yours.
" would you let me shave it now? " Of course it wasn't about that but your eyes are still filled with hope as you ask him about shaving his beard. You were sad he wants it gone but you should be atleast the one to get rid of it.
" fine, I'll let you "
" I love you "
" I love you too " He replies kissing you back as you smile with his lips attached to yours.
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The two were back to the position they were the previous morning after getting dressed, not the one they did on the bed much to Steve's dismay but he did find it cute how much you wanted to be the one to shave his beard and so he caved. It gave him a big domestic feeling as he looked down on your hands that were applying shaving cream.
" you're really going to do it? " Steve asked but saying it as more of a fact as you were done applying the shaving cream on half his face.
" I—I'm really gonna do this " you say nervously as you get rid of the brush you used to apply the cream for his beard. You giggle with nervousness as you slowly inch the razor closer to his face.
" just don't shave my eyebrows off, baby "
" trust the professional Rogers "
" I'm serious, don't " he said sternly but with an obvious hint of playfulness as he points a finger at you in which you point elsewhere going back to focusing on the task at hand.
He closed his eyes, his brows furrowed slightly but relaxing a second later. He trusts you with his life, completely but maybe not much on shaving his beard.
You smile in victory as you successfully shaved a part of his beard in one stroke, a bit of a stubble left behind as his beard was quite thick. Steve opened his eyes a couple times, seeing you so concentrated that the tip of your tongue stuck out made him smile in which you grumble that his smile made you distracted.
Many trips of the razor to the bowl of water, you completely shaved off the two years worth of beard that Steve grew out. You grin widely with your success, putting down the razor on the counter as you made Steve open his eyes.
" please tell me you didn't shave my eyebrows off " He asked teasingly, looking at you before looking at himself in the mirror. Traces of shaving cream left that he carefully wiped away using a clean cloth.
" nice job, doll " He said with a big smile that could reach his ocean blue eyes and continued with a quick peck to your lips. You smile after the quick kiss as you rest your head on his shoulder. Your hands are sneaking on both his sides, clasping your hands together to give him one big hug.
" I told you baby, a professional "
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sunflowersoldat · 7 months
Text
All is Fair ~ Chip and a Chair (Epilogue Pt. 2)
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Epilogue Pt. 2
Previous Chapter
Main Master List
Series Master List
Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?
Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.
Chapter warnings: Bad language words.
Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader
Word count: approx. 1.3K
A/N: This is it! Steve and Ace's story has come to an end, I have enjoyed sharing their story with you! It's been a really long journey, and I love this series, it has been bittersweet to write these last few parts. I digress, I hope you enjoy this chapter and have enjoyed the series!
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Bucky sat at Steve’s desk, massaging the bridge of his nose, his shoulders tense. Everything was finally starting to run smoothly, it had been utter chaos when he had returned to New York without Steve. He knew the job was hard and Steve shouldered most of the weight of the stress and responsibility. Bucky supposed he really hadn’t understood how much Steve truly shielded them from; how much he handled on his own. 
Although business had been running smoother now, he couldn’t take credit for it, not even Sam or Wanda had taken the reins. But Queens, he stepped up without hesitation, gave orders with a confidence Bucky had only seen in him within the last year: when it had to do with Ace.
The kid was turning out to be a miniature version of Steve, but somehow better. Queens was merciful and soft, unless it dealt with the men, he gave orders that didn’t leave room for rebuttals. Was a bit of a hard-ass, especially with him and Sam, but he valued what they had to say. Taking their expertise into consideration, he respected them, they were family, but business was business and he was very no nonsense about it.
The knock at the office door shook him from his thoughts. Wanda stepped into the room, auburn hair gathered over one shoulder, long and unbound. A resigned look in her eyes, they were all exhausted, they missed their boss; their brother.
A small smile reluctantly pulled at her lips, “The desk job doesn't suit you…”
The glimmer of playfulness giving the smallest amount of light to her eyes, “Someone’s gotta do it.”
She nods slowly, walking closer as she places the daily mail in front of him on the desk, she sighs. “I can think of a good replacement,” her brows raise in emphasis, eyes shifting to the open door.
Bucky shakes his head, “When Steve gets back he can promote the kid,” sifting through the envelopes, one with his name scrawled across the front without any addresses catches his eye.
“It’s been a year Bucky…”
He holds up his metal hand, face hardening, “Who delivered the mail?”
Wanda shrugs, “I’m not sure it was on the front desk when I arrived. Why?”
His name is elegantly scrawled on the front, his heart thundered in his chest, he isn't familiar with the penmanship. Inside, is a postcard, the picture on the front is of a couple, the angle off kilter, a little blurry, like the camera is being swatted away. A delicate female hand blocks most of the view of their faces. His stomach folds, he can make out two sets of very familiar eyes. The glint of a silver band is seen on the inside of her hand, circling her ring finger. Flipping the postcard he is met with familiar handwriting that he’s known for most of his life: 
Buck,  I don’t know what to say. I could tell you ‘I am sorry’ but that would be a lie. What I can say is, I’m fine. More than that actually, I’m happy. If it wasn’t clear, I won't be coming back, the business is all yours pal. I trust you to do the right thing. Don’t bother looking for me, as far as the world knows, Steve Rogers is dead. I hope all is well with the family.  Love you Buck, Punk. P.s Angel says ‘Hello, Boinky’ and to ‘quit wallowing in self hatred and regret.’ 
“Sonofabitch,” Bucky breathes. He can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips or the near hysterical laugh that bursts from his chest. Wanda’s eyes widen as she pulls the card from his grasp, fresh tears prick at her eyes, slipping down her cheeks.
“He found her?” She whispers.
Bucky quiets himself, pulling the wild card from his pocket. “I had my suspicions… She left this for me, knowing I’d understand what it meant.”
Wanda slaps at his arm, “You didn’t think you should tell us?!”
He chuckles, “I had to be sure. Now, I am sure.”
She huffs, a smile breaking across her face, “You’re a bastard Barnes.” Her tone is everything but serious as she rolls her eyes, bringing her attention back to the postcard.
She opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by Sam knocking on the open office door, “You got a visitor Buck.”
Bucky shakes his head, “Not now.”
Sam raises his brows, pursing his lips, “Yeah good luck with that.”
A blonde enters the room, he had run into her many times in the past, but didn’t consider her a friend.
“Detective Carter.” He greeted her coolly, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She smiled deviously, “I thought I would stop by and offer a bit of information…” she pauses sucking her teeth, badge glistening on her hip as she sways, “let’s just say, if something happened to Steve’s business and his family, I’d make an enemy out of a very good friend.”
Bucky raised a brow, but remained silent.
“So Barnes, I’m here to tell you to keep a keen eye on yourself and your men, and if you need anything, just give me a call.”
The detective and right hand to the dealer blinked at him in boredom, she was deadly, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but wonder why she worked for Zemo, what had caused her to become a dirty cop. For now he would play nice, he knew he should be thanking you for ensuring no more blood was shed, but he didn’t trust any of them for a second.
He nodded, rising from his seat, offering the detective his hand. She took it, “I look forward to working with you Detective Carter.” 
Her smile again split her lips, it surprised something deep within him that her teeth weren’t filed into dagger-like points, “Likewise Mr. Barnes.”
She turned from him and began leaving, but stopped abruptly, “Oh, and by the way, Fury told me the FBI is sending in a team from Boston: Nicknamed Bull and White, also known as The Sharks. They specialize in putting your kind behind bars.”
Turning she blew him a kiss, “Goodluck.”
Sam and Wanda share a look, but Sam clears his throat, “No better time to test the kid’s resolve than now…”
“We’d be throwing him into the lion’s den!” Bucky snapped, running his hand through his hair.
“He’ll do fine Buck, he’s got us.” Sam pushes.
As if on cue, Peter walks into the room, “was that Detective Carter?”
His voice falters, taking in the group now staring at him.
Bucky takes a deep breath, “So Boss, what’s our next move?”
Peter only hesitates for a second before a smile curves his lips, “I think we need to speak with our new friends Pepper, Zemo, and Yelena before we move forward.”
Bucky shakes his head with a smile on his face, “You heard him, call a meeting. No one steps foot in this city without us knowing about it.”
Sam and Wanda move to leave the room, “And for fucks sake, find out who these jokers Bull and White are!”
As Bucky leaves, Peter stops him, “You think I can handle it?”
Bucky shakes his head, “better than anyone I know kid…” he pauses, trying to find the right words. Though Peter and his relationship has mended little by little, it would never be what it was before Ace crashed into their lives. “They’d be proud of you kid. Hell, I’m proud of you and with you every step of the way.”
A smile curved Peter’s lips, “be my Right Hand?”
“For you? Anything. You want this public?”
Peter shook his head, “no, not yet. Let them think you took over in Steve’s absence. But when the time is right…”
Bucky nodded in understanding, Yelena may have taken over Thor’s territory, Pepper may have taken Tony’s place, they may all be getting along now, but people would still come from all over to stake their claim.
There were always bigger fish, and now there was blood in the water.
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@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you @buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog @austynparksandpizza @capson-of-coul @betareader7 @vicmc624 @bigphattygyal @calwitch @buckysteveloki-me @curlyladylazarus111 @talesofadragon @trudy-shams
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bookishtheaterlover7 · 6 months
Note
While super soildier reader is on a mission and steve is on recovery from his previous one . Theres a part hes well enough and TEASED y/n with this
https://www.tumblr.com/myhairymanfetish/729889488088809472?source=share
Nomand BEARDY steve is BACK !!!
Oh, good Lord! Steve will absolutely be a little shit to Y/n, about this.
Especially when she hasn't been home and the mission is almost done😅
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Thank you, N🫶nnie! This was both fun and a challenge simultaneously. If y'all want more, I'll do my best to do more❤️
Asks are still open, if y'all wanna suggest some more fics or imagines, and the Masterlist will get updated soon ✋
Love y'all!
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