#priest!Steve Rogers imagines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writerscafehub · 6 months

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𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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c /づづ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of OCTOBER. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡

ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.

𖥔 indicates smut

✶ indicates dark elements

By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon

𖥔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕 | god of spring!timothee chalamet

Part seven of the crown him series

✶ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 | the beast

Imagine a twisted beauty and the beast. Reverse kidnapping: I’m in your house and I’m not leaving

𖥔 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | bard!timothee chalamet

An unlikely trio on an impossible quest pick up a stray along the way

𖥔 ✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓 | soft!dark!king hal

Hal could sympathize with Hades, for after seeing the light of life, how could he not pin it close to his darkness

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 | king hal

Hal finds that sitting for his portrait isn’t bad at all

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑 | prince hal

Disowned or not, the son of the king needed to be protected

By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | art student!frat brother!steve rogers

Steve can’t remember what happened last night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all - even more so when you can’t remember what you regret

✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 | bucky barnes

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn’t in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives - but what is rescue if not relief from suffering.

By 𖠰 Nat 𖠰 @the-iceni-bitch

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 | kinktober masterlist

Prepare yourselves for a month filled with wicked and scandalous delights, with vicious and freakish lovers for whatever type of monster you may fancy

By ❈ Beanie ❈ @shadeysprings

𖥔 ✶ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 | kinktober masterlist

Four stories with captivatingly dark themes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 | dark!pete brenner

You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make you say yes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 | dark!ransom drysdale

Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 | priest!lee boedecker

The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 | serial killer!lee boedecker

With the serial killer targeting boys, you thought you were safe. Until you weren’t.

By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | thirteen nights of halloween masterlist

13 Nights of Halloween and each night is going to be a different (what I'm calling) "campfire stories". Each story is going to be told by a different character ranging from Chris Evans characters to Sebastian Stan characters to Marvel Characters. Make sure to take a look at the Intro to meet the various characters! So, gather around the fire and try not to get too scared.

By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer

𖥔 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 | ghost!bucky barnes

Bucky was taken from you by HYDRA a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him… until he starts coming back to you

By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | sugar daddy!sam wilson

Quick and dirty sugar daddy Sam Drabble.

By 𖤛 Roo 𖤛 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

✶ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐉𝐀𝐇 | yelena belova

You find a stranger at your door, a visitor you can’t make leave

✶ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | kraven the hunter

You catch the eye of a mysterious man who shares an unexpected secret with you

By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox

✶ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

A group of friends decide to explore the haunted house on the shortcut back to campus. Ignoring the 'No Trespassing' signs. They ease drop in on a meeting between beings, mortals have never lived to tell tales about. And find out the consequences of ease dropping on the annual Hallows Eve meeting.

𖥔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | druig and makkari and female!oc

The kink alphabet for the threesome

𖥔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | druig and female!oc

Reader is horny but won’t do anything about it because she is busy doing other things. But her husband who can read minds can hear her inner struggle and does something about it.

𖥔 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | druig and makkari and female!oc

Makkari has a surprise field trip for Juni and Druig. They don’t know where they are going. It is her turn to pick where they meet up this time.

By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209

𖥔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |

Introduction to Kinktober

𖥔 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | billy russo

Inspired by the song ‘Slow Hand’ by the Pointer Sisters

✶𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 | softdark!frank castle

Inspired by the song ‘Breath’ by Breaking Benjamin

By ☪︎ Gina ☪︎ @slvttyfied

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | chef!ari levinson

Cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream

By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐉 | carmen berzatto

Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

By ⚘ Akane ⚘ @haravath0t

𖥔 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 | college au!alhaitham

College AU headcanon

By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817

𖥔 ✶𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 | various SS and CE characters

One shots and ficlets for the month of October

𖥔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | bucky barnes

You want Bucky in your mouth. Simple as that.

By ✍︎ Em ✍︎ @writing-for-marvel

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | mob!bucky barnes

Newlyweds Mob!Bucky and wife!reader explore Europe and each other during their honeymoon.

By ❀ Ali ❀ @flordeamatista

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | various SS and CE characters

Kinktober inspired by tarot cards and their auras

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 | lee boedecker

A tale of your wicked deeds.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐒𝐄𝐓

By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

𖥔 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | masterlist

Spooky season stories heavily inspired by Hozier’s album, ‘Eat Your Young’

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | rockstar!sam/steve/bucky

When your friends invite you to a rock show and the drummer invites you back to his hotel room, you might get more than you bargained for yet…

By ✬ Astro ✬ @astrorogers

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 | wanda maximoff

The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 | wanda maxinoff

Wanda teaches kitten about Halloween

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | mistress!wanda maximoff

Mistress!Wanda x sub!kitten reader smut

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jamneuromain · 9 months

Text

Highway to Hell - Shared

Series Masterlist

Series summary: A failed mission brought you once again back on earth, a punishment that’s more pleasurable than you'd normally expect punishments to be. Your punishment? Corrupting people’s thoughts. It’s easy, in a very simple way: sexual pleasure. Turns out no man can resist such a beauty like you.

And who were you? Oh, just the devil's child.

A/N: This is a drabble of what would the four men do when they find out you have been dancing among them. Spoiler alert: they decide to share. Applause to the amazing @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates who help me write this series and provide many excellent ideas to put in the fic <333

Pairings: Cop Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Priest Steve Rogers x Reader, Bartender Ari Levinson x Reader, Uncle Curtis Everett x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Gangbang, Dub con, Double Penetration, P in V, Anal, Oral (Male Receiving), Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (implied), Power Imbalance, Spanking, Threesome (implied), Overstimulation, Creampie (implied), Cum Play, Dummification (just a little), slightly dark(?

On second thought, you shouldn’t have trusted Steve, who told you he needed to speak to you in somewhere private.

And you trusted him. Following him to where he said it would be “peace and quiet”.

Or else, you wouldn’t be cornered by four fuming men in a hotel room, all knowing that you have slept with them separately, while thinking they must have been your only one.

Who would doubt an innocent girl that did nothing than to accept their “generous” offer?

Lloyd, obviously.

“Smart move, sunshine.” The man with a moustache twitches his lips, far from amused, “Telling us that you are shy and rather we won’t tell anybody? Intimate moves forbidden in public? Too bad your little plan didn’t work out.”

“I didn’t plan anything.” You lie to their faces. While in fact you did, carefully choosing your “target”. Lloyd was the unexpected one of them though, since he asked you to pull over as you should have gotten a speed ticket.

“Public?” Steve grinds his teeth before growling, his temper on the thin line of exploding, “I fucked her right in the church. There were only two of us. But still…” Drawing a cross in front of his chest, Steve murmurs a few prayers silently, regardless of the other three men watching him in curiosity.

Lloyd snaps his head back to you, flashing a wolfish glint in his eyes, “The point is, you made us feel very bad about ourselves, sunshine.”

“Yeah, well, you should be proud of yourselves. I wasn’t planning on expanding the list of the men I’ve slept with.” You snap back.

“And we’re supposed to … what? Gloat?” Curtis casually says, taking off his coat, blocking the window, and probably your only hope of escaping, as Lloyd leans on the door.

“If you don’t like it. Feel free to cancel my monthly subscription.” You retort his sarcasm, crossing your arm in front of your chest.

“Gentlemen,” Ari hums in a low voice so that everyone could pay him some attention. He’s been silent ever since Steve led you into this room, “obviously we need more than a ‘monthly’ drop-by.”

The men nod in unison.

“Although we haven’t clarified the specific terms, I believe we should use her whenever we please. And, of course, as we all agree to, share.” Ari smiles at you, but says the darkest thing you could ever imagine.

This was definitely not part of your plan.

“I’ll ask Jake whether he wants to be part of this.” Curtis throws an icy glare at you, “I doubt he would be a problem though. He has shared with me before.”

Lloyd mutters a “fuck”. While Steve is still mulling over his sin-clarification.

“Shall we start?” Ari is shrugging off his leather jacket as he speaks, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.

“You can’t-” You cry in panic as the four men close in, surrounding you in the middle, “this is against the law … or something at least.”

“Oh sunshine, I am the law in this town.” Lloyd grabs your chin, his psychopathic grin gives you shivers down to your spine, “and you should be glad we decide to forgive you and share you. Or I could tie you up in my basement and invite my new friends over, occasionally.”

You draw a deep breath.

Tears burning. Your jaw hurting. Your dripping holes spreading wide open for two cocks.

“You like that, don’t you?” Lloyd groans as he squeezes your hand tighter, guiding you to stroke his hard cock.

“Yeah she does.” Steve agrees quietly before you could answer. He knees on the couch to push his cock further in your swollen pussy, “Christ. She’s so tight.”

“Wait till you’ve tried her ass, Priest.” Ari brings his hand firmly down your ass cheek, painting it red – as if it weren’t pink and hand-printed already, “that ass is fucking heaven.” He chuckles darkly, kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear, gripping your waist, making sure you are fully seated on his thick member, “or should I say hell?”

Stuffed to the fullest with two cocks in both of your holes, you couldn’t do more than let out a mere whimper.

“Can’t believe I’ve bought her stupid acts.” Curtis spits out through gritted teeth as he feels your throat takes his cock again as far as it could, your whimper vibrates his cock. In return, he tugs your hair without mercy, “all those innocent girly acts. Fuck.”

“We all bought it.” Lloyd eyes Curtis, raising his eyebrows, mocking Curtis, “and speaking from a man that has shared her with his son before, seriously? Innocent?”

Curtis huffs but does not bother to answer.

“My turn.” As Lloyd pulls your hair, and choke you on his cock, leaving Curtis slightly irritated.

You were used by these four men for hours. Each has painted your body, both inside and outside in milky-white substance, bringing you orgasms after orgasms. Your holes red, leaking, and abused.

“No more.” You grip Lloyd’s thigh to keep balance, sniffling when he lets your head go and breathe, battling your eyelashes, but they are heavy with tears that you can’t see his expression, “hurt too much.”

“Heard that?” Lloyd barks out laughter, wiping his cock on your face, leaving traces of your saliva and cum on your rosy cheek, “she said she can’t take it, boys.”

Ari grunts out of disagreement, his fingers dancing around your rim, attempting to squeeze one in alongside his cock, “she was screaming and moaning just fine for hours. Lies.”

“Ari, please,” The helplessness inside you bubbles and fuels to your tears, “I just can’t.”

Steve peppers a trail of kisses down your throat, nibbing your shoulder, while toying with your sensitive clit, “I guess you have to be a strong girl for us then. Don’t you want to be good for all of us, hmm? We’re prepping you. More might join, you know.” He speaks softly, comforting you as always. The panting on the joint between your neck and shoulder increases when your pussy grips him. Still, he mouths your breasts, sucking little red marks on them.

“Steve-” You feel torn apart. The four men bringing you pleasure, but in their own way. As if your body belongs to them separately. And the coil in your stomach threatens to snap with greater pain and pleasure than you could withstand.

A rough hand grips your chin, forcing you to turn the other way.

The hand that has hold you for countless times, on your back with a friendly pat.

Curtis.

“She’s not dumb yet. She can still talk.” Curtis talks about you as if you are an object in front of him, having you clench down your thigh involuntarily. It’s degrading, but it arouses you so much than you should admit. “I’d say she could take more.” The dark brooding man inspects your teary eyes and your cum-stained face, “yeah she’s alright.”

“Heard that, sunshine?” Lloyd taps your forehead with his knuckles, “not brain-dead yet.” He grins, “but it does sound empty, folks.”

Steve wipes the cum from your pussy lips, a mixture of the previous men who has thoroughly used it before he did, onto your soft stomach, which compliments your pretty skin and your cute bellybutton. He smiles warmly, though you are not even certain at this point, “she’s always the smartest. I’d say we work harder to satisfy this little devil, hmm?”

With the element of surprise, Ari starts bouncing you on his dick, shamelessly putting his flexing biceps to use, which earns him a few strangled sounds between cries and moans from you.

He simply shrugs, on receiving three other men’s looks, “I am working.”

And you gulp in fright. When Lloyd, with his sadist grin, taps your lips to open for his heavy cock as you still struggle for air.

This would be the start of some many long nights with men more than you could handle.

Taglist: @rosedpetal @dankoiseori @katcutie @peachlle @mrs-marc-spector

#highway to hell #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett smut

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gothgirlmahi · 2 years

Text

Hellfire

Pairing: Priest!Steve Rogers x Succubus!Reader

Word Count : 2K

Warnings: this is sacrilegious as fuck lmao, unprotected sex, non con, dub con, male masturbation, attempted exorcism

"Your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goes about seeking whom he may devour." 1 St. Peter 5:8

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Steve Rogers was a good man.

He’d spent his life dedicated to helping others and to spreading the Word of God. His needs and desires would always come second to those goals. His community loved him. Father Rogers was the attractive young priest that was getting plenty of wayward women back into the pews. While they were certainly having sordid thoughts about him, that was never a feeling he could return.

Until now.

Steve Rogers was a good man. So why was he having the most impure of thoughts about you?

He could remember the first time he laid eyes on you. There you were, in an outfit entirely inappropriate for mass with an open Bible in hand. Rather than looking at the pages, your eyes were fixed on him. A salacious grin took your face, your tongue sticking out just the slightest bit giving him a glimpse at that pink little appendage. That image stuck with him.

He couldn’t explain what had gotten a hold of him, but far after mass had ended, he couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth. Those pretty lips and that luscious tongue. Like a parasite that had embedded itself in his mind.

Lust was a normal human feeling. That much he could acknowledge and excuse. He couldn’t excuse acting on it. But that didn’t stop him from pulling out his hard and weeping cock in the silence of the night, and jacking off to the thought of your mouth. The things you could do with it. Imagining sliding his cock between your soft lips had him shaking and convulsing as he came all over his sheets.

It was shameful and something he hadn’t done in years. It couldn’t happen again. He prayed for forgiveness and went to sleep with you on his mind.

A week later he saw you in mass again. In another revealing outfit. Sultry and dilated eyes gazing up at him like you wanted to tear him apart. The second time Steve saw you in mass, he realized something. You didn’t come forward to receive Holy Communion. From that, he could at least discern it was unlikely that you were Catholic. Maybe you were new? Attempting to join?

He had to get you out of his mind. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t moral.

But you were there, the image of you calling to something deep inside of him, something he thought he’d lost the first time he put on that clerical collar. Steve had never faltered in his faith. But you were presenting a problem he wasn’t sure he could solve.

He went through the service and the rest of his day on autopilot. A cloying thought in his brain about the way your breasts looked in that skin tight fabric. He wanted to see what was underneath.

That night, he returned to his room wearier than ever. Determined not to make the mistake he did last week. And the night after that. And the night after that.

You were making him crazy.

He turned around to close his door and felt an immediate change in the air. Something that sent a chill up his spine and had goosebumps rising on his skin.

When he turned back around, he saw you sitting on his bed. Legs crossed and leaning forward with a distraught expression on your face. His heart was pounding, nearly jumping out of his chest at the sight of you.

Steve’s room was small, small enough that he could see every corner from his position at the door and you had most definitely not been in there when he entered.

“Something,” you started, looking up at him with terrified eyes, “something is inside me. I need help. I need you to get this thing out of me.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in here?”

“This isn’t who I am. I’m so—please. Please help me, Father. You have to get it out.” Your voice was begging, tears lined your reddened eyes.

“Wh-what do you mean something is inside you?”

Your helpless expression dropped suddenly and you raised your lips in a smile.

“Well, I think it’s more about what I want inside me.”

Steve stepped back in alarm, clutching at the cross necklace draped around his neck.

“Demon.”

He spoke and the word hung uneasily in the air. You leaned forward, delighted interest taking your expression.

“Is that an accusation, Father?”

“Why are you here?”

“You said I’m a demon. Figure it out.”

“In the Name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God, of Blessed Michael the Archangel,” as Steve prayed, you rolled your eyes like he was wasting your time, “of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul and all the Saints and powerful in the holy authority of our ministry, we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil.”

You made a face at him.

“Are you done?”

“We drive you from us, whoever you may be, unclean spirits, all satanic powers, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions, assemblies and sects.”

“I’m assuming you’re not done.”

“Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation—“

“Steve!” you yelled at him, jumping up from your bed and walking towards him. Just as you got within two feet of him, he splashed you with water from a vial in his pocket. The water sizzled against your skin, leaving angry red marks behind before it evaporated.

“Wow. I guess I’m just too hot.”

Your ripped his clerical collar out and threw it down before taking him by the neck and slamming him against the wall. His attempts to push you away were futile, you were much stronger than him.

The close proximity had his head spinning and blood rushing to his cock. The effect you had on him was not any sort of normal lust. You were clearly some nonhuman entity sent to destroy him.

Steve managed to slip down and crawl to the door. By the time he was upright and reaching for the knob, he heard the click of the lock turning. He pulled and the knob gave resistance, letting him know he was locked in with you.

He wasn’t sure what to do next. He wasn’t trained for this. He wasn’t sure anyone could really prepare for this. Your closeness made his mind dizzy and slow thinking while he tried to quickly brainstorm solutions. Nothing was coming to mind.

You dragged him close to you by his collar and he tried to push away again, calling out in hopes someone would hear him. Maybe if someone could just hear him—

You rolled your eyes.

“Stevie, they can’t hear you. It’s just us in here. I made sure of that.”

You pulled him roughly to the bed and threw him down on it. When Steve looked up, you were undressing. Slowly peeling off that skintight black outfit. Making his cock so hard that it hurt. He shook his head, averting his eyes to the sheets and you tsked.

“Lust is natural. Just let it happen.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I didn’t ask what you want.”

Steve looked up at you again, just to see your breasts newly freed from your top. You were standing there entirely nude. His eyes panned down to the sight of your dripping sex between your legs. He was disgusted with himself to find that the sight of you naked brought him immense pleasure. Some sick part of him desperately wanted to have sex with you. The rational part absolutely didn’t.

You crawled over him on the bed and ripped the button on his pants open before roughly pulling them and his boxers down his legs. When he tried to stop you, you grabbed both of his arms.

“You touch me again without my say so and I’ll break your fucking arms. Stay still.” Your voice changed in tone as you spoke, deeper and more pronounced and he could swear it echoed against the walls despite being little more than a whisper. Your eyes flashed red as you took in his shaking form helpless beneath you.

His cock was leaking precum, the head was pretty and red like the heated expression on his face. You grabbed it roughly, eagerly jacking him off.

“Is this how you do it, Stevie? Is this how you fuck yourself when you think of me?”

“No, I—ugh!” He found himself thrusting pathetically into your hand.

“Good boy,” you said, taking your hand off of him and positioning yourself in his lap. When you pressed the head of his cock to your clit, Steve shook under you, taking in a deep inhale of breath.

When you slid onto him, Steve saw stars. His head flew back onto the pillow, hands fisted in the sheets as he was enveloped in your tight warmth. Your hand gently dragged against his face while your rode him.

You set a relentless pace.

Steve didn’t know much about demons, but he did know that there was no way being inside one should feel this fucking good. You were gripping him like a vise, a much tighter fit than anything his hand could simulate. Your breasts bounced with each undulation and Steve was mesmerized.

You were sin incarnate and you were taking Father Rogers to hell with you.

Yes, that was it. Steve was going to die. He knew it. This was not a sort of ecstasy meant to be experienced by human beings. A mind and body consuming pleasure that had him releasing deep groans into the stagnant air of his room.

Steve was going to die. And he knew his luck would have him see you in hell where you would torture him all over again. He might even welcome it.

No, he couldn’t think like that. But with the way you were moaning above him, pretty mouth slightly parted as you reached down to rub at your clit, he was starting to think that maybe, maybe this wasn’t so wrong…

“What a waste. Hiding this big fucking cock where no one can get it. Do you like that, Stevie? Don’t you like my pussy?”

He didn’t say anything. He felt like he couldn’t. His teeth bit into his bottom lip, willing himself not to come undone inside you.

You grew angry at his silence and wrapped your hand around his neck.

“Fucking answer me!” A slight squeeze of your hand had him gasping out a reply.

“Yes! Yes, I like it! I like your pussy!”

“Good boy! Good fucking boy!”

You came down on him even faster, setting a pace that had him hurtling toward his end.

“Please, please—I’m going to, oh God, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. Fuck, it’s okay, baby. I’m close, too.”

When he came, it felt like the rapture did, too. Like he was going to be delivered body and spirit to Satan’s doorstep for having intercourse with this demon whore. Steve’s entire body jolted and it felt like an out of body experience. That sweet release of pressure, filling your warm insides to the brim and slowly leaking out and around his cock.

He whined pathetically as you continued to ride him, your pace picking up as you reached your own high. The overstimulation was killing him. He wanted to push you off, but knew better.

When you finally reached your peak, both of the lamps in the room flickered violently while your eyes rolled back and you ground your pelvis into his, getting every last pinch of pleasure you could out of the encounter.

When you were done and pulled yourself off of him, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now you would leave him alone.

You leaned down, putting your face just in front of his before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you next week, Father.”

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

Mahi's Monster Mash

#priest!steve x succubus!reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #marvel x reader #mahi's monster mash #mahi's halloween party

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deanwinchesterswitch · 1 year

Text

December Fic Recs

The final monthly fic recs for 2022!

I will be continuing these posts for 2023. ❤️

Enjoy!

Many of these blogs and fics are NSFW-18+. Please honor any requests from a blog regarding no minors. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume; heed the warnings for each fic.

~Big Sky~

That Simple-Part 6 ~ @avanatural. Author’s Summary: Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new sherriff gonna get the date that he’s hoping for?

~MCU~

I Don’t Want A Lot For Christmas ~ @girl-next-door-writes. Author's Summary: Steve Rogers has a crush on the newest member of the team and a Christmas miracle (of interfering Bucky Barnes) gives him an opportunity to get a little closer to her.

~RPF~

Coffee & Chaos-Masterlist ~ @wayward-dreamer. Author's Summary: Y/N starts working at Chaos Machine Productions, finding joy in the work and fitting in instantly. She knows she could really thrive in the company, as long as she doesn’t fall for her boss, the executive producer and founder, along the way. Little does she know he’s trying to suppress his feelings, for the sake of professionalism, too.

This Means War ~ @waywardnerd67. Author's Summary: Jensen has declared war on their Christmas lights.

Sweetness ~ @katymacsupernatural. Author's Summary: Readers love of candy canes drives Jensen to distraction

~Star Trek~

Feels Like Home ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Jim Kirk x Reader)

~Supernatural~

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. ~ @deanwritings. Author's Summary: The reader has some not-so-pure thoughts when she sees Priest!Dean for the first time…

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” ~ @foreverwayward. Author's Summary: a Christmas surprise from the reader starts off an evening of family, love, and fortune cookies.

Hunted ~ @covered-byroses. Author's Summary: You and Sam have tracked Michael’s whereabouts to a secluded forest. The hunt doesn’t exactly go as planned.

Imagine…An Early Christmas Surprise ~ @luci-in-trenchcoats. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean x Reader)

Imagine Dean taking care of you when a stomach bug takes you down. ~ @muchamusedaboutnothing. Author's Summary: None (Dean x Reader)

The Longest Time ~ @princessmisery666. Author's Summary: For the longest time, Dean hasn’t allowed himself to dream of a future, but Wynter changes things.

The Lucky Shirt ~ @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone. Author's Summary: You were sure you had the right bag. But turns out, when you walked head first into a wall of perfection, you swapped laundry bags with him by mistake. Now, you’re stuck with only his clothes to wear and not much time to find him again before the presentation that could change your life.

On The Outside ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: To get Dean to say yes to Michael, they sent him to the Endverse. And when that didn’t work, they turned to you.

Pranked ~ @riversong-sam. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean x Reader)

Sinful Sunday ~ @kittenofdoomage

I Promise (Dean Winchester x female!reader)

Thoughts Of Her (Dean Winchester x female!reader)

So Much For My Happy Ending ~ @jawritter. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean Winchester x Reader)

Surrounding Warmth ~ @katymacsupernatural. Author's Summary: None (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Tell me about… ~ @impala-dreamer

Michael!Dean using a collar and chain/leash

Riding Dean’s face

Sex with Dean and passing out

On AO3

~Big Sky~

Misdemeanor ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: She’s gonna wind up in lockup for what she’s done.

~Supernatural~

New Year's Dean ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: Sam is gone. Sacrificing himself for the greater good and is in the Cage. Dean deciding to try the normal life. Lisa does not exist here.

On Patreon

~RPF~

Rebekah Jordan (Impala-Dreamer)

The Devil On Stage ~ Author's Summary: Lonely during his solo panel, Jensen calls Y/N out to join him on stage. Having nothing much to say, she lets her mind wander a little too far while watching him regaled the audience with stories from the old days on set.

~Supernatural~

Rebekah Jordan (Impala-Dreamer)

Mine ~ Author's Summary: Dean gets a little rough with you, leaving lovely little marks behind so you remember who owns you...

thinkinghardhardlythinking

The Ghost of Christmas Past-Part 2-5 ~ Author’s Summary: The Holidays are supposed to be jolly and happy but for Y/N, the season only brings great sadness. Sam and Dean Winchester, her best friends and the ones who saved her from danger many years ago want to help her let go of the misery the festivities always seem to bring for her, though doing so will be anything but a simple task.

#monthly fic recs #fabulous writers #dw's witch reads #fic recs #december 2022 #10223

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theprincipality · 3 months

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About Me.

Hey guys.

I’d like to tell y’all a little about me.

I’m a fan of the MCU(Marvel Cinematic Universe) and a fan of both the WandaNat and BlackHill ships.

I’m also a fan of Supernatural, Monster High, What We Do In The Shadows, Lucifer, The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, Bitten and Teen Wolf.

I’m obsessed with listening to the Teen Wolf main opening title song. It’s just so catchy and also in my gym playlist.

My favorite Teen Wolf characters are:

Lydia Martin.

Scott McCall.

Derek Hale.

Stiles Stilinski.

Malia Tate/Hale.

Melissa McCall.

Eli Hale.

My favorite X-Men characters are:

Anna-Marie Darkholme/Marie D’Ancanto A.K.A Rogue.

Remy LeBeau A.K.A Gambit.

Raven Darkholme A.K.A Mystique.

Kurt Wagner/Darkholme A.K.A Nightcrawler.

Katherine ‘Kitty’ Pryde A.K.A Shadowcat.

Piotr Rasputin A.K.A Colossus.

Ellie Phimister A.K.A Negasonic Teenage Warhead.

Warren Worthington A.K.A Angel.

Bobby Drake A.K.A Iceman.

James ‘Logan’ Howlett A.K.A Wolverine.

Laura Kinney A.K.A X-23.

Scott Summers A.K.A Cyclops.

Jean Grey A.K.A Phoenix.

Ororo Munroe A.K.A Storm.

Charles Xavier

My favorite MCU characters are:

Natasha Romanoff A.K.A Black Widow.

Wanda Maximoff A.K.A Scarlet Witch.

Maria Hill.

Pepper Potts.

Tony Stark A.K.A Iron Man.

Thor.

Steve Rogers A.K.A Captain America.

Wade ‘fucking’ Wilson’ A.K.A Deadpool.

Vanessa Carlysle.

My favorite Supernatural characters are:

Dean Winchester.

Sam Winchester.

Castiel.

Bobby Singer.

Jack Kline.

Kelly Kline.

The Impala/Baby/The Metallicar.

Rowena MacLeod.

Crowley/Fergus MacLeod.

Archangel Gabriel.

Archangel Michael.

My favorite Lucifer characters are:

Detective Chloe Decker.

Beatrice ‘Trixie’ Espinoza.

Charlotte Richards.

Detective Daniel ‘Dan’ Espinoza.

Archangel Lucifer Morningstar.

Amenadiel.

Eve.

Mazikeen Smith A.K.A Maze.

My favorite Vampire Diaries characters are:

Hope Mikaelson.

Elijah Mikaelson.

Niklaus Mikaelson.

My favorite Monster High characters are:

Clawdeen Wolf.

Draculaura.

My favorite What We Do In The Shadows characters are:

Nandor The Relentless.

Colin Robinson.

Nadia Of Antipaxos.

Laszlow Cravensworth.

Guillermo.

I grew up on 2000s rock since I was born in that era.

I grew up on Prince, Scissor Sisters, Aerosmith, INXS, Whitesnake, Dire Straits, Warrant, Bon Jovi, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Steppenwolf, Belinda Carlisle and Michael Jackson,

I also grew up on Van Halen, Asia, Kansas, Scorpions, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Soundgarden, AC/DC, Black Stone Cherry, Buckcherry, Metallica, Maneskin, Motörhead, Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, Joan Osborne, KISS, The Runaways, Blue Oyster Cult, Def Leppard, Alice In Chains and Lynyrd Skynyrd,

And here’s some other notable mentions I grew up on. Ram Jam, Sheryl Crow, Rascal Flatts, Divinyls, Redbone, Judas Priest, Skillet, Muse, My Chemical Romance, Slipknot, Rammstein, Kate Bush, ZZ Too, Kid Rock, Lady Antebellum, Linkin Park, 3 Doors Down, Evanescence.

Simple Plan, Simple Minds, Nickleback, Stan Bush, Foo Fighters, Chesney Hawkes, Carrie Underwood, Jason Aldean, Alice Cooper, Cher, Guns N Roses, Spineshank, R.E.M, P!nk, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, The Black Crowes, Temple Of The Dog, Nirvana, Tears For Fears, Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Nicks, Survivor, Twisted Sister, Styx, Texas and The Killers.

As you can see, I’m a huge rock fan. But I also grew up on Kesha, Katy Perry, Demi Lovato, Ken Ashcorp, Britney Spears, Louden Swain, Shakira, Crash Adams, Artic Monkeys, Ally Venable, Big & Rich, The Interrupters, Annapantsu, Meghan Trainor, Celtic Woman, Imagine Dragons, Fall Out Boy and Taylor Swift.

This is stuff about me I’d like you guys to know. I’ll be back to post more soon.

#marvel mcu #personal #music #rock

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valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 2 years

Note

"Another man's evil does not make you good. Men have used the atrocities of their enemies to justify their own throughout history". What Father Lantom said there was Matt was conflicted on whether or not he should kill Fisk, that's the sort of way most other MCU heroes and villains should be challenged on their actions.

I mean, I don't know if Steve Rogers was Irish-Catholic like Matt, but I think he had such a perspective of the California internment camps, Project Insight, the Sokovia Accords, etc.

It would have been amazing to have scenes like that one in the movies, can you imagine if Matt and Frank were joined by Steve in the rooftop? How would that work, because while Steve is probably more on Matt's side of things (as in, believing in the good of people, sometimes refusing to kill and arresting instead) he has killed an awful lot as well.

I just saw a couple more eps of S2 and this chat with Claire was so good:

Matt: "I thought it could work. I did. The law... But it feels useless. Everything I do just gets undone."

Claire: "You're talking to someone who patches up the same three crackheads every night."

Nurses put up with so much crap and she gave him just the perfect comeback.

If you mix that with Brett telling him the cops feel useless as they keep chasing crime instead of preventing it, with Foggy's numerous attempts at making Matt understand he needs to fix things by the law, it all points to the same path: he can't work alone because others are as interested in fixing the city as he is and they're as frustrated as him but they don't go and punch some criminals at night & if he keeps going that way that need for justification the priest was talking about is going to make him do something he will regret.

I mean, it's not a coincidence Matt is slowly losing faith (he literally said that to Gao) and he just told Frank maybe killing is the only way right about the time he's completely alone. His best work came when he had his friends, Claire and Brett, when they were all working together, just like Claire needed her team in the ER or Brett counts on the other cops or Foggy works with Karen, Matt needs them too.

It really is great how the series tackles that and I haven't seen the last two eps of the season yet but at the end of the day what the priest said still rings true.

Mind you, I'm not speaking against vigilantism at all but it's interesting to see these things from an outside perspective where other characters who don't put on suits and masks express how they feel and how the stuff the heroes do affect them personally and professionally. I love that it's street-level. I still believe what Daredevil does is necessary, but I find the dilemma quite interesting.

If other MCU characters had been taken through this path the light in which we see them would be totally different.

#only two eps left!#can I say I loved his chat with Fisk when he's all 'I'm going to use any legal loophole I have to prevent Vanessa from coming back'#that was badass lol

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brettsinger · 2 years

Text

Multiversal Madness - Ep 108

My guest this week is comedian Vishal Kal. How many comic books does Brett have? What is his most valuable book? What happened to the Ultimate Universe in Marvel Comics? Will the MCU bring back Tony Stark and Steve Rogers? How will they do Black Panther without Black Panther? How long will the MCU continue? How great are the Marvel Essentials books? Which is better, old DC or old Marvel? What does DC have on Marvel? What does Marvel have on DC? What would happen if Ben Grimm was a DC character? What's a key component of Peter Parker? What makes Batman Batman? What's interesting about the movie Private Parts? Would you want a comic book about your life if you got famous? What comic book would Brett write?

Reading list: Amazing Spider-Man (start at the beginning!); Ultimate Spider-Man (start at the beginning!); Just Imagine... Stan Lee Creating the DC Universe Book 1 (also Books 2 and 3); Killing Joke; Batman: Year One; Batman: Hush; Batman: The Long Halloween; The Dark Knight Returns; Akira; Among the Thugs (not comic book related but a great book); Dragonball Z; Yu-Gi-Oh; Yu Yu Hakusho; Black Panther by Christopher Priest and Mark Texiera; Snelson: Comedy is Dying; Knock 'Em Dead; Hot Lunch Special

Recorded 8-29-22 via Zencastr

Check out Comics Who Love Comic Books!

#comic books #comics #comedians #comedy #marvel #dc #mcu

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the-iceni-bitch · 2 years

Text

Such Selfish Prayers

Kinktober Day 30: Peccatiphilia (fetish for sinning) and Parthenophilia (fetish for virginal partners)

Pairing: priest!Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Words: ~3.7k

Summary: Meeting you might be the greatest test to his vows he’s ever faced.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (loss of virginity, sex in a confessional, unprotected vaginal sex, praise kink), lots of religious themes, some angst, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: Oh boy, I want to wreck this man real bad. My blasphemy fetish popped all the way out for this one, and I’m not even a little sorry.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

The first time Steve saw you, he should have known you were going to test him in every way imaginable.

Seeing you in that red dress in the front pew at your friend’s baby’s baptism stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in years, the sound of your laughter and the way you smiled distracting him so much he almost forgot the words of the benediction he was giving. Since you didn’t partake of communion he was at least bolstered with the hope that he’d never have to see you after that day, the sight of the few extra inches of your thighs he got when you adjusted the hem of your skirt making his body ache in a way he thought was no longer possible.

Then you started coming to mass, and he could’ve died.

The first time it happened he thought it must have been a fluke, even as he stumbled through his homily and tried not to stare openly at you as you sat quietly in the back of the chapel with a small smile on your face. He couldn’t fathom what you were doing there, and when you disappeared once he released the congregation he was sure he had imagined you.

But there you were the next week, moving up a few rows and drawing irritated stares from other members of the congregation when they got a look at the low cut dress you were wearing. You still didn’t take the sacrament, though, staying in your seat and still giving him that knowing smile as everyone else filtered into the aisle to take communion. He couldn’t stop himself anymore, he had to talk to you.

“Hi there.” He managed to make it to the back of the sanctuary before you had a chance to exit, meeting you at the door and stopping you with a handshake and a bashful smile you couldn’t get enough of. “I’ve seen you hiding back there and wanted to check in. I’m Father Steve.”

“Ah, you’re a cool priest, then.” You winked at him when he gave you a soft laugh, letting the flow of the crowd moving past you press you closer to him until he was sucking in a sharp breath. He muttered your name under his breath when you told it to him, letting go of your hand reluctantly and telling you he hoped to see you again next week before watching you walk away with a deep sigh.

It was like that every Sunday for the next few weeks. As soon as he would finish his sermon he would rush to the back of the sanctuary so he could make sure to meet you when you made your exit. Your talks kept getting longer and longer, Steve trying to draw out more information about your life from you while trying to make it seem like he wasn’t prying, but he just wanted to know you, for some strange reason. After a few weeks of that he was ready to ask you some deeper questions.

“So, I’ve noticed you never take the sacrament.” He glanced at you through his lashes as you stood close to him again, for some reason always having trouble meeting your eyes, even when the movement of the congregation pushed you so close your chests were almost touching.

“Oh, I don’t think this is really the place for us to have that discussion, Steve.” Your smile was almost teasing as you toyed with the hem of your skirt and he fought to keep his eyes from scanning the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Maybe, I want to know, though.” Your laugh made his chest flutter, the desire to reach out and grip your waist almost overwhelming him. “Do you have to leave? We can talk when this is finished.”

“I have no plans, Steve.” You reached out and gave his arm a squeeze, and he had to lean on the railing behind him so he didn’t collapse. “I’ll meet you in the garden.”

He had to try so hard not to shove the rest of the congregation out the door, not caring at all about the little anecdotes each of the avid churchgoers kept trying to foist on him. As soon as the last one was gone he was rushing back to his quarters to strip out of his chasuble and change into a plain tab collar, doing his best to calm himself down as he strode out to join you in the garden. The way you made him feel was wildly inappropriate, but he just kept telling himself he was ministering to you and that seemed to at least tamp down his guilt.

You were sitting on one of the stone benches when he found you, the autumn breeze making your skirt flutter around your legs when you stood to greet him with another one of those heartbreaking smiles. Steve couldn’t stop himself from returning it when you started to walk together, the urge to guide you with a hand on the small of your back tickling his brain until he had to shove his hands in his pockets.

“So, no communion.” He gave you that shy smile when you laughed for him again, gazing at you sideways as the two of you strolled side by side. “What’s that about?”

“I dunno Steve, feels a little disrespectful to partake of the body of Christ when I’m not even sure I believe in that sort of thing.” You kicked at a leaf that blew in front of you absentmindedly as you peeked at him.

“You’re not sure? Is that why you started coming here then?” He tried to keep himself from sounding too eager, wanting nothing more than to find out exactly what it was that had brought you to him.

“No, that was something else.” You didn’t elaborate, letting the silence he left for you drag on until he felt obligated to fill it with something.

“Do you even believe in God then?” The wind was pulling at your skirt again, and he almost groaned when he thought he caught a glimpse of your panties.

“Honestly?” You bit your lip when you turned a little to face him, rubbing your arms against the chill in the air. “It just never really felt like a question that I needed answered.”

“Oh, wow.” He couldn’t stop himself from giving a scandalized laugh at that, running a hand through his hair and tossing his head back. “I think there’s like, two billion people alive and so many dead who would disagree with you on that.”

“Well fuck them.” You beamed when he laughed even harder, knocking your shoulder against his playfully. “I just feel like, even if it did exist, why would some all powerful being give a shit about whether I’m reading the right book, or going to the right building, or fucking people I’m not married to?”

“And that’s something you need?” This was dangerous talk, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I don’t know if I need it, but I don’t see why I should deprive myself of pleasure.” You shot him a mysterious look when he sucked in a sharp breath. “Who would benefit from that, Father?”

He didn’t have a chance to come up with an answer to that when a sharp gust of wind blew against you at the same time your heel rolled in a small dip in the ground, knocking you into Steve with a gasp so he had to wrap his arms around you to keep you from falling. Your face was so close to his, he could’ve dipped his head just a little and his lips would be pressed right against yours, his hands digging into your waist as your breath mingled and he considered brushing his nose over yours.

“Steve?” Your palms were warm where they rested on his chest, your eyes fixed on his until he let his gaze drop to your lips with a sigh. “I should go.”

“Right.” He gave it a beat before releasing you, letting his fingers trail down your arm until you took a step back and disconnected from him. “Let’s talk more, though. Dinner Wednesday? I’ll cook and everything.” He was too fascinated by you and the feelings you brought out of him to leave you alone, as much as he knew he should.

“I’d like that very much.” He couldn’t take it when you smiled at him like that, it made him want to give up everything he’d worked so hard for. “I’ll see you then.”

He watched you leave with a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding when you turned the corner and he lost sight of you. As soon as he had regulated himself he was storming back to his quarters and searching frantically, sighing with relief when he found the cigarettes he’d stashed mindlessly. He hadn’t even smoked in almost five years, but that had always been the one vice he allowed himself, and he figured it was better than what thoughts of how warm your body had felt pressed to his might drive him to. What was he going to do having you in his apartments for a whole evening?

The sight of you on Wednesday made all those anxious and guilty thoughts fly right out of his head, a warm grin splitting his face when you handed him a bottle of wine and pressed a hand to his chest with a certain air of affection.

“Just so you know, I’m not interested in any debating.” You let him take your coat and moved to the dining room, humming at the sight of the meal he’d made before sinking into a chair. “But I’ll answer your questions, Steve.”

“I don’t want to debate either. I just want to talk.” Steve sat next to you with a deep sigh, opening the wine you’d brought and pouring you a glass as you got yourself some food. “So, we covered the big God question, feel like diving right into the deep stuff or should we build to it?”

“Why don’t you get me a little drunk before popping the big questions, Steve?” You took a sip of wine before leaning a little closer to him with a small laugh, bumping his calf with the toe of your shoe when he gave you that bashful grin that you loved.

So he asked you all the small questions he’d been dying to know: where did you grow up? What did you do for work? Did you live in the city? Every answer he tucked away in his heart like a little treasure, utterly entranced by you and desperate for any knowledge of you he could glean.

“Well, we killed this.” He set aside the empty bottle after pouring the dregs into your glass, feeling flushed and warm from the alcohol as he scooted closer to you without thinking. “What d’you think, dove? Ready for a big question?”

“Dove?” You beamed at him and reached out to shove his shoulder playfully, laughing lightly when he blushed and spluttered a little. “No, it’s ok, I like it, Father.” You bit your lip when he gasped at you using his title, leaning your head on your hand and gazing at him with soft affection. “Ask away.”

“Alright, I’ve got one.” He took a swig of wine to strengthen himself. “What do you think is going to happen when you die?”

“God, that’s a doozy.” You leaned back in your seat and shook your head at him. “Nothing.”

“Nothing at all?” He leaned closer, gazing at you and licking his lips as you kept shaking your head at him. “That’s so sad. What’s the point, then?”

“There is no point, and isn’t that wonderful?” You leaned close to him, too, your faces mere inches apart as you gazed at him with sparkling eyes. “Isn’t it better if we show kindness and charity if there’s no giant cosmic reward hanging over our heads? Isn’t falling in love more meaningful if we’re choosing to share even just a few breaths of our short existence with someone else, rather than tying ourselves down for eternity?”

“That’s beautiful.” You were beautiful, he could feel himself getting lost in your eyes, wanting to reach out and trace the curve of your cheek with his thumb. “Where did you come from?”

“That feels like a question for next week.” Just like that the spell was broken, you rising to your feet and grinning at Steve before moving to grab your coat. “This was lovely, Steve, think we should make this a regular thing.”

And you did, Wednesday evenings becoming your nights. The two of you would eat and drink and talk into the small hours of the morning, moving from the kitchen to the dining room to the couch as you grew closer and closer. When you left he always lit up right away, the increasingly lingering touches and small signs of affection making his whole body warm and aching as he fought against feelings he didn’t want to think about.

After almost two months of it he was ready to crack, one night finding him emptying another bottle of wine all by himself in the confessional after practically devouring you before you had left for the night. He couldn’t fight it anymore, finally admitting to himself that every moment he spent with you he didn’t give a single care about any of the vows he’d taken.

“Bless me father, for I have sinned.” He sagged against the wall of the booth as his breath sawed in his chest, chugging the wine and ripping his collar open as he tried to keep from sobbing. “I’ve wanted to abandon my flock and the church, my heart feels like it’s being split in two. I’ve had horrible, impure thoughts. All the time, she’s the only thing I can think about. Fuck, I think I’m falling in love with her. I need your guidance, Lord, what do I do?”

God was silent. Steve felt something in his chest break as he started weeping, burying his face in his hands after dropping the empty bottle as he wallowed in the empty silence that surrounded him. He froze when he heard the echo of footsteps suddenly, holding his breath as they drew closer until he could see the shadow of someone’s feet under the door.

“Steve?” Your voice was like a shot to the heart, he choked on a sob when your fingers scraped softly over the wood of the confessional door. “I left my coat in your apartment and was worried when you weren’t there. Are you ok?”

He couldn’t answer you, his fist shoved into his mouth to hopefully muffle the noises of distress that were threatening to bubble from his chest. You moved to the other side of the booth, pulling the curtain aside and sinking into the bench as you tried to catch a glimpse of Steve through the screen.

“You asked me why I started coming to mass.” You leaned against the screen and sighed softly. “But I think you already know the answer. I know I talked about kindness and charity, but I’m really wicked and selfish.” You heard his breath catch through the screen and gripped the fabric of your skirt so tight your knuckles were aching. “The first time I saw you at that baptism all I could think about was what it would be like to feel your body pressed close to mine. How it might feel to take you inside me and lose myself in you.” His breathing was ragged from the other side of the booth, your own matching his as you unburdened yourself of everything you’d been feeling for months. “I want to ruin you, Steve, to defile you and make you question everything you thought you knew. It’s all I can think about.”

“Dove, come here.” His voice was low and wrecked as he called to you, his eyes wild and dark when you wrenched the door open and stood there lit by the soft moonlight. “Oh, I need you, please.” He groaned when you stepped forward and reached out to cup his cheek, leaning into your touch and purring when you stroked his face gently. “I’m yours to ruin.”

You let out a soft growl as you climbed into his lap, slamming the door to the confessional behind you and framing his face in your hands as you finally pressed your lips against his after all this time. Steve drank you in like oxygen as your tongue slid between his lips, his arms winding around you and drawing you close as he lost himself in the feel of your body finally so near to his.

He whined when your hands slid under his open collar, the feeling of your touch against his bare skin igniting a fire in his veins that had him pulling away from you to draw a much needed breath. You used the opportunity to press your lips all over his face, ripping his shirt open the rest of the way and tearing it down his shoulders as you rolled your body against his.

“Oh, Steve.” You moaned once you finally got a look at him, your fingers trailing over his chest and down to his abdomen as you rubbed your nose over his and he breathed heavily. “You’re so beautiful. What kind of cruel god would force you to hide, hmm? You deserve to be appreciated and worshipped, not hidden away from the world.”

“Christ.” The blasphemy fell from his lips like nothing when your fingers trailed over the outline of his hardened cock, leaning forward and burying his face in your throat as he let out a wanton groan. “Let me see you.”

You pressed your lips to his temple as you drew the sleeves of your dress down your arms after unbuttoning it, letting the fabric flutter to the floor as Steve gazed at your naked body with deep longing. He didn’t know if he really deserved everything you said, but he knew he was going to spend every day of the rest of his life showering you in adoration.

“Steve.” Your breath left you in a soft gasp when he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, winding your fingers through his hair and holding him close as he whimpered softly into your flesh. “I want you inside me, are you ready?”

“Yes, oh yes.” He nuzzled himself between your breasts as you started to undo his fly, gazing reverently at you through his lashes and trailing his hands up your sides as he rolled his hips under you. “I’ve never done this before.”

“At all?” You grinned when he shook his head, dipping your hands into his slacks and pulling him out slowly as he sucked in a harsh breath through his nose. “Oh, I love that. I wanna be everything to you, Steve.”

He forgot everything he had been about to say when you sank down on him, his eyes fluttering closed as your snug wet heat wrapped tightly around him for the first time. Rapture was the only word to describe it, he didn’t think he’d ever really been alive until this moment. How could he ever have thought of this as a sin? Even if someone had walked in right now and found the two of you naked and tangled together in the confessional, he didn’t think he’d apologize. He wanted to live inside you from now on, and you hadn’t even moved yet.

Then you did, and he was finished. Steve clutched desperately at your waist when you started slowly circling your hips, his lips and tongue tracing the swell of your chest as pathetic mewls and keens rose unbidden from his throat. You cooed when he pulled you closer, clenching around him when he started rolling his hips to meet yours.

He let himself go when you dragged his face back to yours, your breath mingling together in desperate pants as he started fucking up into you wildly. You braced your free hand against the screen as he dug his fingers into your hips, meeting each of his thrusts eagerly and fluttering around him as he started to hit you impossibly deep.

“Steve, more, harder.” You bit at his lips and groaned when he flicked his tongue against yours, your fingers wrapping painfully around the edges of the screen as he slammed you down on his cock. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Good boy.”

Steve whined when you called him that, driving up into you with abandon as he kept his eyes fixed on yours. You let out a sharp gasp and fluttered wildly around him suddenly and he froze, the way you were clamped around him making it impossible for him to move as something massive built in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, Steven.” You kissed him deeply as you felt him start to tremble under you, staring into his eyes and holding him close while he whimpered. “Come for me, now.”

His eyes rolled back in his skull as he exploded inside you, wailing into your mouth as you made soft soothing noises against his lips and smoothed your hand over his hair. He let his body jerk as he just kept coming, flooding you with thick ropes of his seed as his balls twitched wildly and his cock ached at the feel of your soft walls milking him for everything he could give you.

You kept giving him soft praises as he came down, kissing each tear that fell from his eyes gently and telling him how good he was and that you just wanted him to feel this way all the time. He was going to give up everything for you, he already knew. The only god he needed was the soft wet heat between your legs he was still buried in, every vow he’d ever taken long forgotten as he imagined all the ways he was going to worship you for the rest of his life.

#natalie writes #steve rogers #kinktober 2021 #priest!steve #priest!steve x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans character #sinning #smut #eighteen and over #eighteen plus #do not interact if you are a minor

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gotnofucks · 3 years

Note

Since Steve is so righteous, I can't help but imagine how would Priest!Steve be if he falls for a woman. I love a good scandal 😍

Title: At His Alter

Pairing: Priest!Steve x Reader

Summary: You fell in love with a man already belonging to someone else.

Words: 1.5k

Warning: Priest Steve ( I have very limited knowledge about Christianity and the Church, no offense is meant to the religion), the reader is non-religious, angsty I guess. No smut but still 18+

A/N: This is my entry for the absolutely charming @wiypt-writes CATFA 10th Anniversary Challenge. I chose the prompt "Faith, huh?" . Thank you so much for hosting sweetie and letting me enter on such short notice!

The sun was merging with the horizon in the distance, casting long rays that hit the stained glass and spilled its rainbow on the floor. You had always loved how the incense lingers in the air and seemed to stick to the pews. The musky scent of the candles and the wood had always calmed you, more so than the figure hanging on the cross did.

You waited behind for a while in the empty church, eyes fixed on his kneeling figure. Only a slight murmur of the words he whispered in secrecy to the Lord reached you, and you stepped back into the shadows to give him a little more privacy. His divine romance was one you wouldn’t interrupt.

“Join me.” His voice called, always even and smooth. He always knew when you were around. Your heels made sharp clicks as you walked and you stopped beside him, kneeling. Without looking at you, he handed you a candle and lit it with his own before closing his eyes and praying in silence. You looked at his face, the beauty that was etched in every line of it and memorized it to perfection. God was lucky to have such a beautiful servant.

He placed his candle at the alter and you did the same, taking the hand he offered you and standing. Even in heels he was taller than you, his shadow never-ending behind him.

“For someone who isn’t a believer, you are here an awful lot.” He teased, his blue eyes glittering in the light of the candles. You bashfully grinned, tucking your hair behind your ear and shrugging.

“I am a believer. Just not in this.” You said, pointing at the cross on the alter. He smiled bright, no offense in his gaze. He gestured to the pew and you followed him there, sitting beside him.

“What do you believe in then?” He asked, raising a brow at you. You looked him in the eyes, letting your gaze linger on his lips before dropping to the collar on his neck. His eyes met your again and yours turned misty.

“In love.” You whispered.

Father Rogers blinked at you before blushing, nodding his head slightly. Licking his lips, he opened his mouth and closed it again, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Faith is love.” He said at last, and the sun sank outside. The only light inside was of sputtering candles and you couldn’t look away from their shadows that danced on his face.

“Faith, huh?” You said softly, placing your palm in the space between you both and inching it towards him. “Would faith allow you to love freely? Is love really love when it is caged?”

His eyes were on your hand that was almost brushing his cassock and his own fingers twitched. He cleared his throat before tearing his eyes away from you, focusing on the figure of Christ on the cross as if reminding himself of who he was.

“It was not Him who said to bound our love. Man decided that and blamed it on Him. He loves us equally.” Father Rogers said, and your heart started beating erratically. How could he feel the love of whom he couldn’t see but not feel yours that you lay at his feet?

“Would He allow us to love too?” You asked him, crossing the last few inches between you both and placing your hand on his. He was cold to touch, and he jerked as if he’d take his hand away from underneath yours, but it stayed. He gulped audibly before looking at you again, eyes troubled and sad, and yet the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“You must not judge Him for the choices I made.” He said. “I took the collar knowing what it would entail. I am His, and I cannot belong to anyone else.”

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and slid down your cheek, his thumb coming to catch it quickly. You sniffled because it was unfair that you loved him so much. If God existed, why did he make you fall for a man who could never return those feelings? Why did God make love hurt so much?

“If god was a woman, this shit wouldn’t happen.” You said, voice heavy with feeling. A laugh bubbled in his throat at that, reverberating through the church.

He leaned towards you as if telling you a secret and you couldn’t help but mirror him, coming in closer to him than you thought to be ever possible. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think God is both.”

If love was an ocean, you drowned a little deeper. His hand moved under yours until it flipped, his fingers curving over yours, holding you with the same reverence with which he held his rosary. You instinctively squeezed tight, breath coming out sharply as you held his hand for the first time.

“When I first met you, I thought I was being tested.” He started, running a thumb over your knuckles. “I knew you weren’t here by choice. But you didn’t sneer at us. You respectfully went through the whole service. I was hoping you’d have gotten something fruitful because I never expected to see you again.”

You remembered that day, being brought here by your friends against your wishes. Religion and you didn’t mix, but you humored them that day.

“You were the most gorgeous priest I had ever seen.” You said, giggling a little. “My first thought on seeing you was ‘what a waste’.”

“Is that why you came back? Because I am gorgeous?” He asked.

“No. It was because I fell in love with you.”

Love at first sight didn’t exist, at least that is what you thought. But then you saw him. Cloaked in black and standing tall, you wondered if people worship him or their Lord. He spoke softly to everyone, talking to children and adults alike, smiling. When you followed your friends to him, he had talked to you as if he knew you since forever. You believed that. You believed that time hadn’t brought you together for the first time. His soul was familiar.

He was silent at your admission, this one confession weighing heavier on his soul than all others he heard in the booth. This was the first you had voiced it, but he knew. You didn’t try to hide it from your eyes and he read them like an open book.

“I was lost. Years ago, I fell in love and got my heart broken. It was then the Lord came to me. He loved unconditionally. There would be no heartbreak.” He said, looking into space.

“Did she cheat on you?” You asked, clutching his hand harder. His blue eyes met yours with past pain still lingering and you wondered if it could ever be washed.

“He died in battle and left me alone.”

Your lips parted at his words and your heart broke for him. Abandoning propriety, you shifted until his thigh touched yours and you could feel his side burning into you. Cupping his face you made sure he could look into your very soul, see your sorrow for him as well as the love you held.

“I am so sorry.” You whispered, lips centimeters away.

His eyes dropped to your lips and back to yours, a breath catching in his throat. He placed his palm over yours, pushing his face into your touch and savoring it.

“He would have approved of you. Bucky was always more popular with the ladies.” He said, sadly smiling.

You shook your head, always knowing that you would choose him over anyone. With one word from him, you would have laid on the sacred alter and let him ruin you with no remorse. He owned all of you without even trying.

“Will you ever love again?” You asked, heart stuttering in fear of his answer.

The night was falling fast and shrouded in the dark, his hand took yours and placed it on his heart. You felt it beating steadily below your palm and you wished to capture its rhythm and play it over and over as you sleep so every breath of yours was in sync with his.

“I already do.” He confessed, coming closer. “Father Rogers belongs to Him, and – and Steve belongs to you. I am sorry if all I can give you is the promise of the fact that my heart beats for you.”

Your tears fell swift, caught in his shoulder as he hugged you tight. There would be no nights spent in his embrace, though you had made love to him a million times over in your dreams. There would be no ring on your finger, only the collar on his throat. But as you wept on him, in his arms, you felt at peace. Love hurt so much, but it was a hurt like the sting of love bites left by a lover. Love hurt like the hug squeezed too tight. Love hurt like a mother’s womb expanding for its child. Love hurt like it did now.

“It will be enough.” You said, trembling as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. “My love for you doesn’t need the warmth of your body. Just the company of your soul.”

#catfa 10th anniversary challenge #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #priest!steve x reader #priest!steve #chris evans x reader #queued #queuing this post coz I am asleep rn lol

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bccky · 2 years

Text

Made For Each Other

Chapter 1 - The White

Pairing: King!Steve Rogers X Queen!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: The King of Loh, Steve Rogers and you have been betrothed to each other since you were children. Along the way, you fall in love, leading to many, if not all, to believe that you two are made for each other.

If this was true, then why did Steve lead an attack on your kingdom and force you to marry him the very next day?

Words: 770

Warnings: angst, hatred, forced marriage, forced kiss, enemies to lovers, bad Stevie (warnings will change with each chapter)

A/N: I had written this way back when I had been experimenting with dark fiction, but I couldn't make myself write Steve without a redemption arc lol. Not beta'd.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Ps. I imagine Steve in this series to have a body like Chris does in the Red Sea Diving Resort... Like ya know, big :) with a beard like Andy Barber and usually slicked back blond hair but like feel free to imagine him as you want ;D also, find the picture of the dress at the bottom Xx

"With the power vested in me by His Majesty, I now pronounce you man and wife." The priest exclaims joyously, though it all feels like a farce to you.

Marriage is supposed to be between lovers, and if required, a mutually beneficial arrangement between the two at the very least. In this case, it seems like only one benefits everything, while the other loses all.

And why wouldn't it? This is no happy occasion, but an overzealous attempt to display the King's power, Steve's power.

He does not deserve the title, you decide mentally.

He's not your king. He'll never be your king.

The priest continues after stopping for a dramatic pause, "Your Majesty may now kiss your bride."

There's a collective sound of 'aww's as Steve takes a step towards you.

To an outside eye, it must be easy to be deceived by his conniving smirk, since it may look like a shy grin. But as you stand across him at the altar, you can't be tricked.

Steve's baby blue eyes darken as he leans forward to capture your lips, not deterred when you don't make an effort to kiss him back or even close your eyes, but cups your cheek in his palm to make your unwillingness discreet.

You wish you could just run away and start anew with a quiet life where no one knows who you are, but you can't. Your hands are cuffed together and strategically posed so that your long veil makes it invisible to the prying eyes.

Steve's Royal Advisor and your maid of honor, Lady Romanoff, has held the edge of a blade against your lower back, which you guess is also concealed by some part of your white wedding gown and the angle you both are standing in.

You can tell Steve is getting frustrated, his grasp on your face more rough, and he glances behind your shoulder, a supposed instruction to Lady Romanoff because she increases the pressure on the blade.

It almost cuts through the skin of your exposed back, the threat making you comply and let Steve's tongue roam your mouth for however long he wishes.

If it wasn't for Romanoff, you would've bit his tongue off.

Now, you stand helplessly still as Steve's cold blue eyes glimmer in satisfaction at the defiance in yours as he pulls away.

His dark gaze reminds you of the previous day when he was dragging you out of your castle by your hair, showing how you were nothing more than a game to him.

And as much as you want to slap the smug smirk off his face, you don't, knowing that acting out will only further the bratty image of yours that Steve presented you as to his people.

You are only a trophy from his latest conquest, the infamous headstrong princess that he claimed for himself upon taking over your kingdom, your home forcefully, even though you were going to be his soon.

Steve went as far as to want you to think that you were getting a privilege since he had ordered the rest of your family to be imprisoned after a five days long war.

"Let's see how long you last before I break you." The way he utters the words as he pulls away would make you or any other woman recoil away, but you're determined to not show him even an ounce of fear.

You're not going to let him win.

There are thousands of eyes that watch your union with their beloved King, and you know that if you want even an ounce of their favour and support should you ever require it, being calm and composed is the only way.

You need to be seen as a collected and resilient Queen, even a quiver in your actions can be held against you.

So you stand straight and square your shoulders, conveying through your body language that you're not giving up. You're not going to be the one that loses.

A new crown is set upon your head that matches the colour and the precious metals of the one that Steve wears.

It's nothing like your old tiara, though lighter in weight, it feels burdening and as if it is made up of thorns, bringing a sense of discomfort and alienation.

"I now present to you, the King and Queen of Loh." The Herald announces and Steve is quick to change his demeanor into the poor substitute of the kind-hearted king the world thinks him to be.

He puts an arm around your waist, forcing you to face the crowd. "Smile and wave, my darling." And you do as he says, reminding yourself that you're only biding your time.

I’d love to hear what you think! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know :) Comments and reblogs make my day Xx

If you'd like to read more of my works, click on the masterlist linked on the top of this post!

If you wanna be tagged for the next part, please reblog this and mention it there 😊

Lastly, may I present to you, the wedding dress:

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dontshootmespence · 2 years

Text

Welcoming the Lick of Hell’s Flames

Summary: Father Steve Rogers is one of the priests of your congregation. After many confessional interactions, you feel the need to confess sinful urges of your own.

Pairing: Priest!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: Oral sex (both ways), fucking on a desk, against a wall, religious content and guilt, questioning religion. Sweaty fucking honestly.

A/N: For those of you 18 and over!

Months had passed, and despite all of his praying, all of his asking God to take these urges away, they remained and were even stronger than ever. Each time he went to his mentor, Father Springs, he would tell him, “Father Rogers, pray a rosary and reflect on these sinful urges,” “Father Rogers, pray two rosaries this time and ask for God’s forgiveness. He loves you and will guide you if you ask,” “Father Rogers, remain steadfast and God will answer your prayers.”

Every day he heeded his mentor’s urges, but every day, upon his return home, his mind drifted to thoughts of you, the woman who he’d only seen glimpses of through the slotted mahogany walls of the confessional booth. The enticing scent of your perfume stirred in his mind as he pulled the collar from his neck, looking at it and shaking his head in disgust. Was he truly less a follower of God for urges that were built into so many?

As he pulled off his shirt, he allowed himself, despite his mentor’s voice looming large in his head, to drift to thoughts of you. The self-consciousness in your voice when you would admit to touching yourself, the melodic, tortuous sound of your voice as it traveled through the wall between you, the scent of your perfume - it all drove him wild.

He started to palm the growing bulge in his pants as he imagined your lips around his shaft, your tongue darting out to lick away the salty pre-cum that had gathered there. Laying back on his bed, he unzipped his pants and slipped his free hand into his boxers. Closing his eyes, he slowly began to stroke himself and bucked into his hand, picturing your mouth wrapped around him, the guttural noises you would release as his cock hit the back of your throat. It was all too much, and within minutes he’d released himself all over his hand and stomach.

When he began to clean up, the guilt set in once more. “Another day,” he mumbled, looking to the ceiling in earnest at his Creator.

The following morning, he conducted the last mass of the day as normal, all while shaking thoughts of you from his mind. From the peaks he’d caught of you, plus your name, he believed he knew who you were, but when he caught your gaze in the church pews, he knew it was you. That familiar feeling clawing inside him - unmistakable.

With his final words and goodbyes to the congregation, he turned to head to his office to finish the paperwork needed to hold their annual clothing drive for the community. Though he could get it done in no time at all, he was quick to turn on his heels for fear of meeting your gaze, allowing himself to get sucked in. Once tucked away behind the closed office door, he steadied himself and pushed you from his mind, grateful for the distraction of paperwork.

Lost in the monotony of his scribbling his signature across the page again and again, he heard a knock at the door. “Father Rogers?”

“Yes?” It was Father Springs, and he sounded anxious.

“I just got a call from my sister about my father. His health is declining, and I need to take some time off. Are you able to handle things for me for the next few days until I get back?”

Springs’ father’s health had been declining for many years, and he felt for him. “Of course, Father Springs.”

“Thank you,” he replied, the relief apparent in his voice. “Miss Y/N was here to speak to me for confessional but since I need to run out, can you handle that as well?”

Steve swallowed hard. “Of course, I’ll be there momentarily.”

He closed his eyes and thought of anything but what was invading his mind. Father Springs’ steps quieted as he ran out of the church and toward his car, hoping to catch the next plane to Chicago.

Bracing himself, he opened the door with a plastered-on smile. “Miss Y/N, nice to see you. In person, I mean. Rather than through the confessional booth.”

Smooth. It wasn’t even smooth for a layman, no less a priest that shouldn’t have been having lustful thoughts about a member of his congregation.

You chuckled awkwardly, unable to meet his gaze. Despite your self-conscious nature during confession, you’d always struck him as more confident, but here you were, standing before him, timid as anything. “Come in,” he said, taking a step back and motioning to the chair near his desk. “Father Springs said you were here for confession?”

Though she sat down in the chair, and intended to stay, she took a moment to speak. “I wanted to confess to Father Springs this time. I told him I could wait until he got back, but he insisted...since you were still here.”

Something about the shame-filled but steady gaze led him to believe this was just as awkward for you as it was for him, though for the same reason he wasn’t sure. “I’m sure I can handle it,” he said shakily, forcing another smile. “There’s no need to be ashamed for if you confess and repent, God forgives.”

“Father, I... I’ve been having lustful thoughts about someone I shouldn’t. No matter how much I pray, they won’t go away. I don’t know what to do,” you began to ramble. “No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like if y- he was touching me, kissing me...”

Steve caught her slip up, a wave of trepidation and yet strength rolling through him. “I don’t necessarily think those thoughts are bad thoughts,” he said, finding his own truth in his voice as he spoke. “God made us with those urges, so why would they be wrong?”

Apparently, his answer took you off guard. “Even outside of marriage?”

“Even then,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “Miss Y/N, I...”

Was he going to do this? Say it? Admit that he was in direct defiance of his calling?

Just as he was about to open his mouth, you popped up from the chair and started toward the door.

“Wait!” He said, following behind. Before he could stop himself, his fingers grasped your wrist.

Wide-eyed, you spoke, “We shouldn’t...right?”

If God would bar him for the gates of heaven for this then so be it. “Maybe not, but I don’t care anymore.” He clasped the side of your neck with his hand and pulled you close, lips drawing you in for searing kiss. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long,” he breathed, his voice no longer the one he put on for the public. “Needed to feel you.”

A nervous laugh escaped you as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him in, backing up against the wall. “Since you walked into this church, I haven’t been the same, Father.”

“Call me Steve. Please,” he said, smiling for the first time in a while, as his lips trailed the side of your neck.

When you moaned into his mouth, he braced himself against the wall, chuckling when you caught him off guard and turned him, so his back was against the wall. “Forgive me, Father,” you said, giving him a kiss as she dropped to her knees before him.

Pulling his cock from his pants, you looked up and licked your lips, wrapping them around the tip. If this wasn’t what heaven was, he didn’t want it. As you pushed yourself to take more of him, your tongue rolling against the vein running along his shaft, he snaked his hands into your hair. “Good girl. That’s a good girl.”

His praise made you smile around him, your head bobbing up and down faster and faster in search that catch in his breath that told you he was close. You pulled off him, kneeling at his feet. “Can I taste you, Steve?”

“I want you to,” he moaned, bucking into your grasp, “But I also need to feel you and I’m not gonna last if you do that.”

You chuckled softly and slipped your hand down between your legs, rubbing small circles against that spot you’d touched so many times before, picturing the man in front of you. “Then fuck me, Steve.”

Grunting, he shoved himself off the wall and picked you up, quickly closing the window and placing you on the desk. “Put your feet up on the desk,” he commanded, surprised at how naturally the words fell from his lips. This is what was meant for him. You quickly complied, your knees falling to the sides, your sex aching and dripping for him.

Without a second thought, Steve dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes hungry, mouth agape. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re soaking wet.”

“For you,” you replied, a huskiness filling your voice in a way he’d never heard before. “This is how I am every time I touch myself, to thoughts of you.”

“What do you dream of?” He asked, kissing your inner thigh. “Paint me a picture.”

As his beard tickled your sex, you wove him a beautiful tale. “I’ve imagined my lips around your cock, choking on it while you cry out my name. I’ve pictured you with your face deep in my pussy, devouring me like I’m the last meal you’ll ever enjoy-Oh,” you whimpered as he slid his tongue up your slit.

He groaned at the taste. “Keep going,” he said, his voice low and lecherous.

“I’ve fucked myself with my fingers imagining your thick cock stretching my little pussy out. I scream your name and you swallow it as you pound into me. I’ve pictured it all. I’ve felt guilty for so long, but I can’t deny it anymo-”

He cut you off, burying his face into your pussy, nose rubbing against your clit. Groaning his appreciation, he licked at your slick, smiling against you as you bucked up into his waiting and eager mouth. “So sweet. Fuck.”

With each pass of his tongue and scrape of his beard you writhed beneath him. Heat overtook him, but he welcomed the flames of hell as he dipped his tongue into your pussy, glancing upward to watch as your mouth dropped open and sweet sigh escape your parted lips. Despite his priestly garb, he’d had experiences before he joined the ministry. None of it had been like this though. Then, he was a selfish boy, only seeking his own pleasure, but now he wanted nothing more than to hear his name drop from your lips.

Grasping at your thighs, he pulled your legs wider, licking and nibbling and sucking until your body seized underneath him, your juices flooding into his mouth and down his chin. Little grace filled his movements as he stood up and pulled your ass to the end of the desk.

“Fuck me, Father Steve,” you moaned, heat radiating off your soaked cunt. His cock twitched at your words, a smile pulling at his lips as he slapped his cock against you, seeing your inhibitions fall from grace.

Bending down, he kissed a trial down your stomach, appreciating the gift he’d been given before placing the tip of his cock against your pussy. “Mine,” he whispered. “All mine.” Slowly, he pushed into you, watching as pain and pleasure mixed into one.

“Don’t stop,” you whined. “You’re just so big.”

Though he wanted you more than he’d wanted anything in his life, he took his time, allowing you to get accustomed to his size. “Fuck me now, Steve.”

He bent down over you, easing his cock into your impossibly tight channel and swallowing the moan that erupted from your mouth. “Oh my God,” he moaned into you, a laugh escaping him at the irony of his outburst. “You’re so tight.”

A chorus of grunts and groans filled the room as he bucked against you, sweat slick skin against skin. You reached down and grabbed his ass, pulling him into you, neither of you able to get as close as you wanted no matter how hard you tried. With each thrust of his hips, you cried out, begging and pleading for him to fuck you full, harder and faster. “I need your come, Father Steve,” you breathed.

He knew by your moaning laugh that you knew exactly what the name did to him, responding by fucking you harder, rhythmic clapping overtaking all other noise in the room.

“Come inside me...pleaseeeee,” you choked out, grasping at your breasts in an attempt to overload yourself with sensation. He slipped his hands over yours, pinching your taut nipples as he thrust into you one last time, both of you crying out the other’s name as you fell over the edge. “Oh my God,” you laughed, pushing up from the desk and pulling him in for a kiss. “I just fucked a priest in a church.”

Earlier, that realization would have hit him like a ton of bricks. Guilt would’ve washed over him. But now, staring into your eyes, he welcomed the lick of hell’s flames at his feet.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #priest!steverogers #priest!steverogers x reader #dontshootmespence #welcoming the lick of hell's flames

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Regrets of Yesterday (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: arranged marriage, infidelity? (does it still count if all parties are consenting?), mafia!Steve, side of Bucky x reader, jealous!Steve, eventual NON-CON, Steve’s an ass

DNI IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

➥ This will be a short 3 part series ➥ part 2

summary: your arranged marriage to the infamous Steve Rogers isn’t what you initially thought it would be, but things have worked out better than you could have imagined. However, your arrangement with your husband becomes complicated when feelings, and circumstances, that neither of you anticipated come into play.

Your marriage to the infamous Steve Rogers wasn’t even what you would call a cold one. Truth be told, it wasn’t a marriage at all. Everything was arranged the moment you had caught his parents’ eyes, and before you knew it, you were engaged to a man you had never met. Of course, you knew who Steve Rogers was.

Everyone did.

To the average person, he was your run of the mill business man who’d been blessed with generational wealth. To those who really knew, he was a stern leader to the most well-known crime organization in the city, the same one he’d inherited from his father. He was equally brilliant as he was handsome, and that you could confirm for yourself on your wedding day.

It was a wedding with a decent turnout. Both of your parents were there to witness the event of course. As well as his men, but you hadn’t expected other crime bosses to be in attendance, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you nervous. Your hair looked the best it ever had, your makeup highlighted your best features, and your dress clung to you in a way that caused everyone’s gazes to linger. All in all, it was a beautiful wedding.

If only your husband to be had been present.

Steve was there physically, of course, but the rest of him was so far away that you found yourself feeling alone at the altar. Your hands were intertwined with his as you said your vows, but you couldn’t really feel them. Your eyes met his, but it felt like he wasn’t even looking at you. His lips brushed against yours so lightly, you had to wonder if you imagined the kiss.

Your parents were positively beaming as the priest pronounced you man and wife, but as you contemplated the weight of Steve’s hand in yours, you wondered just how true that was.

The reception was everything you wanted, and when you were told that you had free reign over all of the wedding details, you had been excited. You thought that Steve was going to be one of those husbands who just wanted to make his wife happy no matter what. It was a rude awakening to realize that it was solely because he didn’t care. About the wedding...

About you.

It was during your first dance as a married couple that you fully realized just what this marriage would be.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Steve had started, making you frown.

His blue eyes gazed into yours, neat blond hair pushed away from his face. His handsome face was unreadable, not a hint of emotion peeking through, and his voice was even as he continued.

“I don’t know if they told you why you’re here…”

“They did.”

The main reason for this marriage was so that Steve could produce an heir to continue his family’s legacy. That had been made clear from the beginning, but it didn’t help you any with trying to figure out where this conversation was going.

“…and you understand that’s the only reason you’re here, correct?”

You blinked, a bit shocked as you registered his words. You knew that it played a big part in this marriage, but you hadn’t known that it was the sole reason for this marriage…nor your place here.

“I see,” you whispered, a bit disappointed.

You both turned to pose as a camera flashed, and your conversation continued as he moved you about the dancefloor, a soft breeze ruffling the skirt of your dress.

“I’m not as cruel as they say,” he murmured. “I won’t expect you to just sit in a loveless marriage.”

Your frown deepened as he continued.

“You are free to find affection elsewhere. As am I,” he said, making your eyes widen. “I’m used to a certain lifestyle, and that won’t stop just because we got married, and it would be unfair to not allow you to do the same.”

Your lips parted, and you blinked because this was not how you expected your wedding day to go at all. Here you were, dancing in a courtyard full of people as they watched the two of you celebrate your marriage. Meanwhile, your husband was telling you that he had no intentions of remaining faithful while you were free to do the same because your marriage was for one purpose and one purpose only.

“You…you want me to…”

You trailed off, your words dying in your throat as he looked away from you. Your eyes focused on his side profile, jaw moving every time he talked.

“My father gave me a year to find a wife and start working on producing an heir. He isn’t the most pleasant person to be around when he doesn’t get what he wants. This will satisfy him for the time being while we continue our lives as they were,” he explained.

You pressed your lips together, shoulders dropping as you accepted this.

“…when the time comes, we’ll do what needs to be done to have a child. Until then…”

You supposed that you couldn’t be upset with Steve. This was an arranged marriage after all. Everyone knew how most arranged marriages went, and you were the one who’d imagined this to be something it wasn’t. Besides, it wasn’t his fault that your parents didn’t clue you in on the whole story. You suspected that was for a reason though because had you known, you never would have agreed.

At least he was being transparent with you.

His eyes met yours again, and you nodded at him just as the music slowed to a halt. For the first time since you met, Steve smiled at you, and you did the same, albeit reluctantly. He took your hand and gently handed you off to your father, the older man pulling you into a dance as the music started up.

When you were done dancing with him, you enjoyed a dance with Steve’s father, the older Rogers pulling several laughs from you as he recounted stories of years past. Your dances with the other crime bosses were much more nerve-wracking, the eldest Odinson holding you a tad too tight for your liking. You were relieved when the song ended, and another took his place.

Your next dance partner, while never having the pleasure of meeting him until today, was also not unknown to you. James Barnes was just as well known as your new husband, equally as handsome, and much easier to talk to it seemed.

“You look lovely, Mrs. Rogers,” he told you, and you blinked.

You were taken aback. Sure, your father and even Steve’s father had complimented you on your dress, but Steve hadn’t said a word about how you looked. In fact, he’d hardly spared you a glance. While you accepted your marriage for what it would be, you didn’t realize that meant it would be a cold one.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.”

He smiled at you, a genuine expression as his lips pulled back from his teeth.

“Steve and I are close, and you’ll be seeing a lot of me so please. Call me Bucky,” he told you.

You returned his smile with a nod.

“Okay…Bucky.”

You danced with Bucky for 3 more songs, learning that he and Steve had grown up together and were practically like brothers. You enjoyed dancing with him. He didn’t hold you as tight as Thor Odinson did, but his touch also wasn’t that of a ghost’s like your husband’s. He was attentive during the conversation, looking at you instead of through you and talking with you instead of at you.

When it came time for you and Steve to cut the cake, you were a tad disappointed to part from him. Even more so when the time came for the two of you to be driven off in the limo. You stared out of the window the entire time while Steve took a business call. You occasionally eyed him, wondering if he’d ever hang up to at least have a conversation with you, but it was in vain.

With a sigh, you looked away, and forced yourself to accept that this marriage wasn’t really a marriage at all, and that it would never be. You didn’t know this man, and you weren’t being put under any obligations to love him. Truthfully, you never even had to interact with him at all. You could just bask in his millions while living a life completely separate from him. You realized that plenty of women would kill to be in your place, and it was then and there in the limo, on the way to a honeymoon where your husband wouldn’t even sleep in the same room as you, you’d decided that you would make the best of this.

“Do you…have to…leave so soon?”

His thick accent reached your ears as you bent to pick up your dress, smooth voice interrupted by his labored breathing. You slid the satin material over your skin as you pulled it back on, and you felt the bed move beneath you. You smiled when his lips brushed against your bare shoulder, a hum climbing out of his throat as they traveled to your neck.

“Pietro,” you chided.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, lips finding yours in a soft kiss when you turned your head. You grinned into his mouth, hand resting on his shoulder.

“I have to go,” you whispered, and he groaned.

He fell back onto the plush bed with a sigh, blue eyes finding yours. He didn’t look happy, but then again, he never did when you had to leave.

“I’ve already stayed much longer than I planned to,” you told him, standing to adjust your dress.

Before you had the chance to reach back and do it yourself, Pietro sat up to zip the material for you. His fingers brushed over your skin as he did so, lingering, and you took in a shaky breath. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and exhaled.

“Let me guess… Steve?”

You let out a snort, shaking your head while you held in a chuckle.

“When is it ever Steve?”

You and your husband had been together for almost a year, and you’d probably seen the man maybe 10 times. Steve had his life, and you had yours. Not once had the two ever mixed, not even for something as mundane as dinner. You heard Pietro scoff, and you stepped away from him to put on your shoes.

“James,” he decided, so much disdain dripping from his voice you’d think that James had fucked his mother or something. “Of course, it’s James.”

You glanced at him from over your shoulder.

“Do I detect some jealousy?”

“Of course, you do!”

You turned to face Pietro as he stood, naked as the day he was born.

“He always gets you. You like him better,” he said with a pout, and you tilted your head.

You did feel a bit guilty because what he said was true, but it couldn’t be helped. You and Pietro had only just started seeing each other two months ago. Bucky had made his intentions clear with you barely a month into your marriage.

You had been taken aback at his boldness, especially since you’d only been married to his best friend for 30 days, but then you remembered that Steve had probably resumed the activities of his former life as soon as you had returned from your honeymoon.

He was never home, always out late, and on the rare occasion you did cross paths, he hardly spared you a glance. It had been a bit lonely at first, most of your free time filled with shopping or reading or cooking. That all changed when Steve required your presence at some stuffy event. The limo ride had been silent, and you’d taken it upon yourself to part from him as soon as you entered the building.

Bucky had found you in one of the many empty hallways, admiring some painting while you sipped on a glass of champagne. He had complimented you just like he’d done on your wedding day, and you shyly thanked him, not used to the attention. Having been familiar with the building, he gave you a tour, keeping you company and making you laugh the whole night.

As you made your way to one of the upper floors, you had stumbled, courtesy of the alcohol in your system. Bucky caught you with a laugh, telling you that maybe you needed to slow down before plucking the glass out of your hand. You couldn’t remember when nor how he’d gotten so close, but his lips were suddenly on yours.

…and you were kissing him back.

You had eventually stumbled away, feeling wrong despite the fact that Steve said it was okay. Despite the fact that your husband had been doing this very thing all along. You left Bucky there in a hurry, easily finding Steve. He had been looking for you too, ready to go. The ride home was just as silent, but for once, your sham of marriage wasn’t on your mind. It was the feel of Bucky’s lips on yours.

You busied yourself for days, shopping and going out to eat to keep your mind off of one James Barnes. It came to a screeching halt when a limo that wasn’t yours was waiting outside for you when you exited one of your favorite stores. You knew it was Bucky before the window even rolled down, and you had every intention of telling him no when he offered you a ride home.

Your mind said no, and you had even convinced your heart to say no, but when you opened your mouth, that wasn’t what escaped. Confused with yourself, you reluctantly slid into the dark vehicle as he opened the door for you. He had offered you something to drink, and you had shaken your head, avoiding his eyes.

After a while, he moved to join you on your side, gently taking your hand. You didn’t stop him. His free one rested under your chin, tilting your head up so that your eyes were on him. You remembered thinking that he looked more handsome than usual that day, blue eyes brighter and dark hair styled perfectly. His eyes had searched yours as he leaned in to kiss you.

You didn’t stop him.

Your legs shook when you slowly made your way to your front door, a dazed smile on your lips. You had leaned your back against the door, ignorant to the housekeeper as they called your name. As you had made your way up the stairs, Bucky’s scent still clinging to your skin, for once, you were happy to be all alone in this big house.

You had touched yourself that night, no longer a faceless being behind your eyes, but instead James Buchanan Barnes. You woke up that next morning feeling better than you had in weeks, your mood only lifting when a knock sounded on the front door. Bucky was there with a bouquet of flowers, dressed impeccably with his limo waiting behind him. You told him to give you 30 minutes, and 30 minutes later, in a dress that you had bought yourself weeks ago to cheer you up, he was leading you towards the car.

The rest was history.

You pulled yourself from your reverie, frowning a bit at Pietro.

“Well, he’s here. You go back home in, what…2 days?” you wondered with a shrug. “I only see you for a week before you’re flying back home for another month.”

Pietro ran his eyes over you, lips down turned.

“You could come with me,” he whispered.

This conversation was not unfamiliar to you, and you rolled your eyes.

“Even if I wanted to Pietro, that would never happen,” you said, holding up your left hand. “I’m married.”

“Barely,” he mumbled.

You laughed at that, putting your earrings back in.

“True marriage or not, I don’t think Steve would take too kindly to me running off with one of my lovers. His pride wouldn’t survive it.”

“Screw his pride, the man is an idiot,” he spat, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “We both know it’s James you worry about. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d have me killed for stealing you away.”

You pecked his lips, pulling away before reaching for your coat and your purse.

“You’re probably right. All the more reason I can’t just run off with you,” you told him.

He heaved a heavy sigh as you made your way to the door.

“I’ll call you later?” you said, glancing at him.

Pietro rolled his eyes, but a fond smile found its way onto his lips anyway.

“Of course.”

As you made your way out of the suite and into the elevator, you found yourself thinking about your fling with Pietro. He was beautiful and cultured, and he made your head spin. However, he was flighty. You knew that Pietro had a roster of women lined at his feet, and you were simply his favorite. Pietro was not the kind of man you just run off with. Sure, your marriage to Steve wasn’t a marriage at all, but it provided security, and you’d be silly to give that up for a womanizer who would lose interest in less than 4 months.

Besides, what Pietro said did have a grain of truth to it. There was no doubt in your mind that Bucky would kill the man for stealing you away. If Pietro, like all the others, was a fling, then Bucky… Well, Bucky was probably the love of your life. It was strange to finally admit that to yourself, but you did love him. Sometimes it felt like you were married to him instead of Steve, and sometimes, when it was just the two of you, you wished that were true.

You sighed into Bucky’s mouth as he pressed his hips into yours, warmth filling you as you came around him for the second time that night. Your fingers were tangled into his hair, a shudder passing through you while his fingers pressed into your hips.

“Stay the night,” he whispered against your lips.

You chuckled, throwing your head back as he brushed his own against your jaw.

“That would make it the third night in a row. I shouldn’t,” you replied. “God forbid Steve remembers my existence and actually needs me for something now of all times. It would be just my luck.”

He rolled off of you with a sigh, exasperation coloring his tone.

“Just tell him you’re busy,” he slyly said, tracing his finger down your side.

You slapped his hand away, and he laughed.

“That’s not part of the deal,” you reminded him.

He scoffed, and you sat up. You and Steve never brought up your separate lives in conversation. While that was hardly a possibility before, seeing as he never talked to you, in a week, you and he will have been married a year and 4 months, and you were seeing more of him than you were used to. Bucky had mentioned something about some shipments he was letting Tony handle, and you guessed that gave Steve more free time. You were surprised he didn’t want to fill that time with one of his many mistresses.

“Right. What is it again? Don’t ask…”

“…don’t tell,” you finished. “…and never in the house.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, resting his hand behind his head as he gazed at you, dark hair mussed.

“Are you happy?” Bucky suddenly asked you, and you paused, turning to fully face him. “I mean with him. Are you happy with him?”

You frowned, mulling over that question.

“Well,” you breathed. “There’s not really an answer for that. I’m not with him.”

Bucky sat up too, now, and you continued.

“He and I, aside from our names on a piece of paper, aren’t together. I am…a womb waiting to be used to produce an heir to satisfy his family,” you said. “So, I’m not happy or unhappy with him because I am not with him. Truthfully, I’m with you...and I’m very happy with you.”

“Then be with me.”

Bucky’s face was clouded in desperation, and you blinked at him, frowning.

“What are you saying…?”

Bucky huffed, running his hand through his hair before taking your hand.

“I’m saying ditch the other guy,” he threw at you, and you barked a disbelieving laugh.

“The other guy! You mean Steve? Your best friend? That Steve?”

Bucky heaved a sigh as he got out of bed, and you watched as he pulled his pants on.

“Look, I love Steve, but he’s an idiot. I don’t care what kind of lifestyle I was used to. If I were marrying you, I’d turn my back on it all no questions asked just to have you every night,” he said, and your face softened. “If all he needs is a baby maker, he can easily find another wife.”

“Bucky,” you sighed.

“Leave him,” he pleaded. “…and be with me.”

“You know, the last time I saw Pietro, he was demanding the exact same thing from me.”

Bucky’s lip curled at the mention of the other man that you hadn’t seen in months, and you laughed.

“How is Pietro these days, anyway?”

You fixed him with a look.

“You know that I haven’t even talked to Pietro in months. After my last refusal to run off with him, he quickly lost interest.”

Bucky smiled, face brightening as he shrugged.

“I know. I just like to hear you say it.”

You tossed a pillow at him as he laughed, moving to get dressed. He pulled you into his side as soon as you were both clothed, fingers dancing along your waist.

“I like having you all to myself,” he murmured, lips meeting your cheek.

He helped you into your coat before walking you downstairs. It was colder these days, and he tightened his hold on you as he walked you to his car. The drive to your house was quiet, but not uncomfortable, Bucky’s hand in yours as you looked out of the window. It was late at night, but the city was even livelier than it was during the day. When his driver slowly pulled into your driveway, Bucky pressed his lips to yours, reluctant to pull away.

You felt the same, and you didn’t want to admit it to yourself that his proposal was tempting. His hand tightly held yours as you stepped out of the limo, making sure you didn’t fall. Just before you turned to leave, he brought the back of your hand to his lips, blue eyes drinking you in.

“Think about it,” he murmured, and you threw him a sad smile, promising him that you would.

Your heart was heavy as you pressed your key into the door, pressing your back to it as soon as you shut it. You stood in the foyer, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh. All those months ago, when Pietro had asked you to leave your husband, it had been easy to turn him down. Bucky? Not so much. Feeling like you wanted to cry for the first time in forever, you slowly made your way into the living room.

“You’re out late.”

A startled shriek left your lips, hip bumping into the table beside you just as light flooded the room in time to watch the vase of flowers shatter against the floor. Fear forgotten, you pressed your hand to your heart, sucking your teeth at the vase Bucky had gotten you last year. He bought you fresh flowers every week to fill it with.

“Oh no,” you sighed, kneeling to grab them.

You heard Steve move behind you, footsteps growing louder as he neared. You glanced at him as you stood, shaking the water and glass off of the flowers.

“Jesus, Steve. You almost gave me a heart attack,” you complained.

“Sorry,” he evenly replied. “Was this new?”

He was referring to the vase, and you tripped over your words.

“Uh…no. N-not exactly,” you said, making your way to the kitchen.

You sat the flowers on the counter, grabbing the broom and dustpan before making your way back into the living room. You frowned at the mere presence of Steve, wondering what he was even doing home. Perhaps that was a bit unfair of you, but you had grown so used to not having him around. You preferred it. You could feel his eyes on you as you swept up the glass, even still when you returned to wipe up the water.

“We have a housekeeper for that,” he said, making you frown again.

“I’m aware,” you replied, standing. “…but what sense would it make for me to leave this here all night just so Peter can clean it up in the morning when I’m perfectly capable of doing it right now?”

Steve nodded, and you made to move towards the kitchen again when he spoke.

“You were out late.”

You paused to look at him, realizing that was what he’d said when you first came in, scaring the crap out of you. With a frown, you looked at your watch.

“It’s only 1:17,” you told him.

You were normally out much later, but Steve always came home in the early hours of the morning, if he came home at all, so of course he wouldn’t know that. He simply nodded at your response, hands on his hips. He was still dressed like he’d only recently gotten home himself, and you again wondered why he was even home, but you decided that you didn’t particularly care.

He was still standing there when you exited the kitchen, flowers left in the sink. You wouldn’t worry too much about them. It was almost time for Bucky to buy you a new bouquet anyway. You barely spared Steve a glance as you made your way to the stairs, briefly pausing when he wished you a goodnight. You threw him a small frown before wishing him the same, Bucky returning to your thoughts the minute you entered your bedroom.

You were startled again when you entered the kitchen the next morning, finding Steve already there sipping on a cup of coffee. Once again, his presence confused you, but you kept it to yourself. You don’t think you had ever woken up to find Steve still in the house, and certainly not in the kitchen. You didn’t greet him as you made your way to the fridge, grabbing some lemon to put in your water.

Silence filled the room as you went about cutting a few slices, preparing your drink. It seemed a little tense, but you were determined to ignore it. You were meeting Bucky in an hour and it would take half that just to figure out what to wear. You were pulled from your thoughts by Steve’s voice.

“You never did say where you were last night.”

You glanced up at him, a slight frown on your face before you released a light chuckle. You heard him set his mug down, and when you looked up again, his eyes were on you. He was casually dressed today, a first for him. He still had on the usual black slacks, but he’d traded the button down for a simple white tee.

“Something funny?”

His voice was low, a tone he used on his subordinates you were sure, but you merely nodded your head.

“Yes. You.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to frown, eyes narrowed just a bit.

“How so?”

“You’ve never been curious about my whereabouts before,” you told him.

“Well, that was before I knew you weren’t coming home,” he said.

You sighed, setting the knife down as realization hit you.

“We were supposed to attend a gala last night, and I came home the other day to tell you, but you weren’t here. You never even came through the door, and that was concerning,” he explained. “If you hadn’t walked through the door last night, I was going to send a search party.”

“I have a phone.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, pulling said phone out of his pocket before placing it on the counter.

“A phone that you left here.”

You grimaced, sheepishly taking it. You could get so caught up with Bucky sometimes that you were positive you’d lose your head if it weren’t attached to you. Your eyes met Steve’s, apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better about keeping it with me,” you promised.

He heaved a sigh, taking another sip, eyes never leaving yours. You rolled your eyes, realizing what he wanted, before dropping your knife into the sink.

“I was with a friend,” you told him. “…but as you can see, I’m safe and sound. There’s no reason to worry.”

You slipped out of the kitchen before he could respond, determined to hurry up and get dressed. This wasn’t the first time that you’d forgotten your phone at home, it was just the first time you’d done so, and Steve happened to need you.

He wasn’t in the kitchen when you came back down, dressed and ready to go, but you could hear him upstairs. Practically itching to get out of this house and away from his cold stare, you hurriedly made your way outside. In the car, you took your time to check your phone, grimacing at the 3 missed calls from Steve. However, a smile found its way onto your face at the message from Bucky. He’d sent it last night after he dropped you off, telling you to think about it.

It was the first thing he brought up as soon as you met him at the restaurant too.

“Steve won’t even miss you. Hell, he doesn’t miss you, but I do. I miss you all the time,” he said.

“Funny, you miss me all the time when I feel like I’m with you all the time,” you commented, picking at your appetizer.

Bucky tilted his head, pretending to think.

“I’d say you’re with me about 90% of the time-.”

“90%, you don’t say,” you mocked.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “90%, and that other 10%, I’m practically dying.”

You rolled your eyes.

“How do you manage…”

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he continued, taking your hand. “Leave him. There are a million women who could easily take your place, women who want to be in your place. He gets one of them, you get me, and we’re all happy.”

You smirked at him, attention falling to your food again.

“Why Mr. Barnes, I do believe you’re trying to wreck my marriage,” you teased.

“Hardly. I’m simply trying to start a new one.”

Your eyes snapped to his, that teasing smile falling from your lips as you registered his words. Your heart skipped a beat, and your lips parted as he eyed you, his tongue darting out to wet his own.

“…what?”

“Doll…what did you think when I said be with me?”

You shook your head, shrugging.

“I…I don’t know, but I didn’t think you meant marriage. You want to marry me?”

He took your hand in both of his, pressing his lips to the skin, a brown strand kissing his forehead.

“Of course, I do. More than anything. Wouldn’t you like that?”

You thought about it, chewing on your lip.

“…waking up to each other every morning, falling asleep to each other every night. I’d bring you breakfast in bed and we’d…work on our little family…”

Your gaze met his again, and you found that you loved the sound of that.

“Are you…proposing to me…?”

The idea was absurd, especially considering you already had a ring on your finger. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not really. I just wanted you to know my full intentions, that I’m not just fooling around here.”

You stewed over what he said while he continued.

“I’m not going to pressure you anymore, but you know how serious I am now, and I want you to think about it,” he softly told you.

You slowly nodded, still in shock.

“I will,” you quietly replied.

His grin widened, and he sat back in his seat.

“After we leave here, we can go pick out a nice bouquet, yeah?”

You suddenly blinked as you remembered last night, a smile on your face.

“Yes, please, and…a vase too?” you guiltily asked.

He frowned, tilting his head before nodding.

“Of course. What happened to your vase?”

You huffed a sigh.

“I broke it. I bumped into the table, courtesy of Steve,” you complained, shaking your head.

“Steve? What do you mean?” he demanded, voice dropping.

“It was nothing. He was waiting for me when I got home last night, in the dark like a creep, and he practically gave me a heart attack,” you explained.

Bucky didn’t respond for a while, simply humming. He picked at his food, lips pursed as he eyed you.

“Why was he waiting for you?”

“Apparently there was some gala last night? He’d been planning to tell me I had to be in attendance with him but someone…,” you threw him a pointed look “…prevented me from going home the other night. Add in that I had left my phone at home, I guess Steve convinced himself that I had been kidnapped or something.”

Bucky simply hummed in response, and you both finished your lunch. Your days spent with Bucky always went by fast, and you were always sad to wish him goodbye. His proposal was taking up more and more residence in your mind, especially as you watched him drive off. You stood at your door, staring after his car with your coat wrapped around you, wondering what it would be like to go home to him every night.

With a sigh, you turned and made your way inside. You were greeted by the sight of Steve, voice low as he pressed his phone to his ear. You sent him a small polite smile before making your way to the kitchen to fill up your new vase, fresh flowers in your left hand. You were just cutting them when he joined you, and you turned to curiously look at him.

“I need you to accompany me to an event tomorrow,” he told you to which you nodded, wondering if Bucky was going to be there.

“Okay.”

You didn’t hear him leave as you turned back around, dropping the flowers into the water, satisfied. Your suspicions turned out to be correct when you turned around only to find him still standing there.

“I could’ve replaced the vase if I’d known it was that important,” he said with a small frown.

You shook your head, moving past him.

“It’s fine,” you honestly told him.

His eyes were still on you as you sat it down, adjusting it to a position that you liked. You tightened your coat around you as you passed him, ascending the stairs with a small ‘goodnight’ thrown over your shoulder.

You woke up the next morning feeling positively ill. Every inhale had your stomach churning, and you cursed yourself, trying to remember everything you ate the day before. You had planned to at least see Bucky for a little bit before this shindig tonight, but the summersaults going on in your stomach had you canceling on him. The silver lining was that he apparently was going to be in attendance tonight, and that made you feel better.

Again, Steve was home all day, but you didn’t see him until it was time to go. You had remained in bed all day, drifting in and out of sleep, fighting off every wave of nausea that came at you. You though that you did a good job of hiding your discomfort, but Steve had asked you if you were alright the minute you came downstairs. You told him that you were fine, a whopper of a lie, but your attendance was mandatory so what else could you do?

Like all of your car rides together, this one was silent, but you could feel Steve’s eyes on you every now and then. You couldn’t be bothered to question him on it, too preoccupied with keeping your food down. Your nausea only got worse the minute the two of you stepped into the building. The smell of food was heavy in the air, and there was no doubt that you were starting to look as sick as you felt.

Your eyes fell on a group of familiar faces, one more familiar than the rest. You threw them all strained smiles as you approached, head feeling a bit light. You couldn’t even be bothered to care that Steve’s hand was on the small of your back, more important things to worry about other than his unusual behavior.

You had just reached your friends and acquaintances when a server came by with a tray of food. The smell that hit your nose had your stomach clenching, and you barely had enough time to swipe a napkin before your food was coming up.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Nat cried, hurrying towards you with a bowl.

There was some slight commotion as her husband, Bruce, and Sam hurried to flag down some help for the mess. Nat’s hand was on your shoulder, helping you towards a seat, and you could feel Steve’s hand still on your lower back.

“Y/N?”

He sounded worried, and you only figured out why when your legs crumbled. You hadn’t realized that your lashes had begun to flutter as your steps started to slow.

“Woah,” he said, catching you as you fought to straighten your vision.

He sat you down, and you could feel several people fanning you. Steve was wiping your hands clean when Bucky finally neared, brows furrowed in concern, looking as handsome as ever. Too bad you couldn’t truly appreciate it.

“I’m okay,” you told him before he could even start. “Just ate the wrong thing, I think.”

Bucky didn’t look convinced, and he sat down beside you, pressing his hand to your forehead.

“You don’t feel warm,” he murmured, and you shook your head at him.

“It was just some bad food,” you whispered, trying to ease his worries.

Again, he didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway. He stood with a sigh.

“I’m going to go get your coat,” he said, and you thanked him.

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but when you looked at him, you couldn’t make out his expression. His hand was still on your lower back, and you finally breathed better when he pulled away, standing.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to the valet, make sure the car is ready so we can go.”

Your face fell, feeling like you ruined his night.

“I’m sorry, Steve-.”

“What for? You’re clearly sick. I wish you had said something.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded upset that you didn’t tell him, but it was more likely he was upset that you had in fact ruined his night. With a soft squeeze to your shoulder, he was gone.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” T’Challa asked you, and you nodded.

His wife, Nakia, came hurrying over with a glass of water, and you gratefully took it. You were even more grateful that you could keep it down, and you sent her a small smile as you handed the empty glass back to her.

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” she said, shaking her head. “You must be feeling awful. I’m grateful that I don’t get sick often because the only time I have ever vomited is when…well, when I was pregnant.”

She chuckled, and you froze.

“…and I love my children dearly, but I do not want to go through that again.”

You joined her, a nervous laugh escaping you just as Bucky returned with your coat. You jumped, having been surprised to feel the fur draped over you, but you allowed him to help you up. He rubbed your arms through the fabric, voice low.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Nakia’s words had your mind racing, and your lips parted because honestly? You didn’t know. You didn’t want to scare Bucky over nothing, but you also wanted to voice your sudden fears that you had never even considered before. All too soon, the two of you were meeting Steve at the door, and Steve’s grip was firm as he took you from Bucky’s hold, eyes hard.

“I got it from here, Buck. Thanks.”

His voice was clipped, and you frowned at him, but Bucky simply nodded, bidding you both goodnight before reluctantly making his way back inside. You wanted to tell Steve that he didn’t have to be rude to Bucky just because you ruined his evening, but another wave of nausea hit you.

Your head leaned against the window as soon as Steve deposited you into the car. The fresh air was ebbing your nausea a bit, the low rumble of the car helping. You hadn’t taken the limo, and you were starting to regret that because you really wanted to lie down, but fatigue still found a way to slowly creep up on you.

If only Steve had allowed it to do so.

“I really wish you had told me you weren’t feeling well. We would have stayed home,” he said.

You sighed.

“I was hoping it would go away. Our attendance was mandatory, Steve,” you whispered.

“Not at the expense of your health,” he sneered.

You rolled your eyes, realizing the root of his annoyance.

“I promise you, I’ll be in good enough health to give you your heir. It was just some bad food…”

Steve heaved a sigh, and you felt his eyes on you.

“This isn’t about a baby. This is about you. Watching you drop to the floor like that was…scary,” he admitted.

“I’m fine,” you said, feeling like a broken record.

“Well, you don’t look fine. You look sickly. Are you taking care of yourself like you should?”

You scoffed, wondering where this was coming from. The man who barely talked to you in almost 2 years was suddenly acting like your father, and you didn’t like it.

“Of course, I am.”

He exhaled.

“I just know that the house can be…lonely. It can get to you if you’re not careful.”

You rested your head on your hand, breathing through your mouth.

“I’m far from lonely, Steve, so really. There’s no need to worry…”

You could feel his eyes on you again, a soft ‘oh’ reaching your ears.

“I’m glad to hear it. Maybe you should go and see a doctor,” he proposed, quickly changing the subject.

You swallowed another sigh, not wanting to talk about this another minute.

“I told you, it was just some bad food.”

That was what you told yourself, but Nakia’s words almost made you want to hurl again. It only recently occurred to you that you hadn’t gotten your period in a while, but you didn’t think too much of it because you had never been regular. Still, you and Bucky weren’t always safe, but that was what birth control was for. What were the odds of your birth control failing you during one of the few times you didn’t use a condom?

However, the next day, as you stood in the bathroom, looking down at the positive pregnancy test in horror, you realized that the odds were great.

tags: @mcudarklibrary @sherrybaby14 @harryspet @xoxabs88xox @darkficreposter @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @patzammit @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy

#dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Dark Fic #marvel fanfiction #mafia steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #mafia au

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starlightstevie · 3 years

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fics rec / january 2021

And I’m back with another fic rec! There’s some absolute goodies in this month’s rec - I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! Happy reading x

(* is smut)

*tale as old as time (series) by @spacelabrathor Beast!Thor x reader: Thor is a beast, prowling the halls of an empty castle alone, living a life of cold, barren solitude. Villagers visit once yearly to bring him gifts he does not seek, piling valueless trinkets at his gate they feel will keep him appeased. They hate Thor and Thor knows, someday, that they will breach his gates and come for his head. He wonders to himself, often, if he will try to stop them when they do. This year, though, the offering has changed. Thor finds not trinkets at his front gate, but a girl, and then everything begins to change.

COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR by @inthorantine While not officially out yet, I am putting this here because everyone needs to read this! Kait has outdone herself and no, I will not stop talking about this for the next 500 years. Here’s some h/c to keep you going until it comes out! One | Two

*if I love you was a promise by @blueberrythor Thor x reader: Thor doesn’t consider himself a jealous man–there aren’t many who could compare to him, especially among mortals. He hasn’t had much reason to acquaint himself with the feeling. But watching you with Steve, even he isn’t immune to the sharp sting of jealousy.

*The Watching by @opheliadawnwalker3 Thor x reader (some Loki x reader): Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

*Desperate Measures by @lancsnerd Thor x reader: When an agent is affected by sex pollen and needs assistance, just how helpful will Thor be?

*passionate & burning by @peachyteabuck Thor x reader: You’re busy with working from home, but Thor has other plans for the day.

*my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by @spacelabrathor Frontier!Thor x reader: Thor makes a home and a life for his family out on the rugged frontier of the Old West. The winters are unforgiving but he keeps them safe and warm. At night, their cabin glows with firelight and the warmth of their company. A small slice of their life together.

*survive the summer and its sequel *hungry for me by @peachyteabuck (Dubcon) Thor x reader: A stranger approaches you on a warm summers day.

*the fluffer (series) by @punani Masterlist 70′s pornstar!Chris Evans x black!reader: It’s the 70′s and the erotic videos industry is experiencing another boom after the risen popularity in the previous decade. The studio’s are hot, Gemini Flanagan is a brand, and you’re a newly hired assistant at Shaggin’ Studios. Chris takes a liking to you, altering your job description so that you get to work more closely with him. Is this all just physical, or is there something more?

*old flannel by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: an innocent night of lounging in his old flannel leads to not to innocent touches.

*sunday football by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Chris sits you on his lap as he teaches you all about football.

*grocery run by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Innocently wearing Chris’ shirt leads to you finding out just how much he can’t resist you.

*Captain by @chrissquares Nomad!Steve x reader: You call Steve a name that drives him wild.

*A Birthday Gift by @the-iceni-bitch Nomad!Steve x reader: The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

*let me come home to you (series) by @evansweaters Masterlist Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader: After years at a dead-end job shouldering everyone’s expectations for you but your own, you’re finally free to be whoever you want, go wherever you want. That is, until a series of unfortunate events strand you in amber’s end, where the sheriff – and notoriously unmated pack alpha – decides to take you in.

*mountainside by @honeysucklesteve Nomad!Steve x reader: Steve needs something to give him a release and you do just that.

*steve needs to relax, good thing you’re here by @honeysucklesteve

*Such a Shame by @angrythingstarlight Steve x reader: You owe him for saving your life, the price is more than you were willing to pay, such a shame you have to force his hand.

*Captain Jealousy by @nony-bear Steve x reader: You and Steve have been keeping your relationship a secret to avoid public backlash for your age difference. However, after watching Steve flirt with a new agent at one of Tony Stark’s famous parties, your jealousy and frustration come to a head.

*A Christmas Compromise by @stargazingfangirl18 Ransom x reader: Even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, all you wanted for Christmas was Ransom.

*a man of god by @punani Priest!Ransom x reader: You’ve always been a good girl– attending mass regularly, never been touched by yourself or another, and the way that you dress? a naive innocence radiates off of you. even a man of god can’t help himself, not that he puts any effort into refraining from forbidden fruit.

*Naughty or Nice by @sweeterthanthis Ransom x reader: Getting caught nibbling on forbidden holiday treats.

*her cherry lips on his whiskey flavoured kiss by @cloudystevie Ransom x reader: The moment he met you, he knew.

Not My Style by @chrissquares Ransom x reader: With cold weather comes dry lips..

*In Good Hands by @ozarkthedog (Dark) Doctor!Andy Barber x reader: Your usual OBGYN Doctor got called away leaving Dr. Barber to administer your pap exam.

*Drowning by @savior-adriana Andy x reader: You love working as Jacob’s tutor in German. Not necessarily because you love the language or the teen’s attitude, but because it means you get to spend time alone with a certain Andy Barber once a week.

*Something Old, Something New by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: To this day you couldn’t work out why he’d chosen your mother. They were total opposites, a mismatched couple if ever you saw one. Yet, you watched it play out – thinking, hoping, that he’d never go through with it.

*Beg for Daddy by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: The thought of your mother passed out next door, the other side of your bedroom wall, did nothing to quell the intense hunger you felt for him.

*it’s the right time to roll to me (series) by @blueberrythor Masterlist Bucky x married!reader: Stuck in an unhappy marriage, you find solace in Bucky.

*about last week by @xbuchananbarnes Bucky x reader: You’ve been avoiding Bucky.

*need by @cloudystevie Bucky x reader: You’re horni for Bonky’s metal hand

Season of the Witch by @msmarvelwrites Bucky x reader: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much.

*The Bet (series) by @no-droids Part One | Part Two Poe x reader: There are 3 rules to the bet between you and your x-wing commander: No sex, No touching yourself, No orgasms.

*the shakes by @whistlingwillows Poe x reader: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.

Mornings with Modern!Poe by @okay-hotshot Modern!Poe x reader: You and Poe try to have some alone time while you wait for your morning coffee and tea to brew, only to have your child interrupt you and run away yowling.

frigid by @whirlybirbs Mando x reader: Din doesn’t like the ocean. You’re soaked.

Getting vulnerable with Mando by @cptnbvcks

*men of the bau: kinks by @luciilferss

open road by @gayprentiss Emily Prentiss x JJ Jareau: After retiring from the BAU, JJ and Emily decide to forgo an apartment in favor of an old sprinter van.

*Teacher’s Pet by @imagining-in-the-margins Professor!Reid x reader: There are only a few reasons to sign up for Criminal Psychology. You could be like the reasonable students and join the class because you are genuinely interested in the material, or you could be like the rest of us. That is, you could enroll in the class because the professor is a fine piece of ass fresh out of prison.

*Spencer taking you in the library by @spenciebabie

*of terrible coffee and late-night rides by @venusbarnes Hotch x reader: A collection of moments throughout your relationship with one Aaron Hotchner.

*fragrance by @whistlingwillows College!Hotch x reader: Plato said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it's almost impossible to stamp out.”

*bitter end (series) by @whistlingwillows Masterlist Hotch x reader: Author Sarah Dessen wrote, “Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.”

*Beard Kink by @reidsexualwriting Hotch x reader: Hotch with a beard has you feeling all types of ways.

*Lunch break by @arganfics Hotch x reader: You help Hotch relax after a tough day.

*Early Mornings by @mrvltwimagines Hotch x reader: The very rare mornings where you wake up and your boyfriend was still home and in bed were definitely cherished by you.

*Do you like that? Being in control? by @writefasttalkevenfaster Hotch x reader: You decide that Hotch needs a break from being in charge.

*Waking up Hotch with a blowjob by @writefasttalkevenfaster

Taking a day off with Hotch by @ssahoodrathotchner

*eat until your blood sings by @peachyteabuck Tony Stark x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Clint Barton x Thor Odinson x reader: Gangbang with the Avengers.

*Anakin Skywalker has a big dick by @anakinswhore

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otp-holic · 3 years

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The one place (where something happened) (A03)

“In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, where something happened, and then there are all the other places.” Alice Munro. (or the one where they receive a letter from a familiar name and we go into 4Ks of fluff around a lost afternoon in France)

4K. Lamely explicit at one point. Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Trigger for FLUFF as the main plot. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3)

This was supposed to be a manip with 200 words of bantering and it's now 4Ks of fluff with a few pictures. I've decided to leave them inside the cut because I feel they work better with its context there. I'm sorry for the hassle, but I really hope you give this a chance... unless you have cavities, only like fics with amazing plots or are allergic to shameless fluff.

Please do not repost the pictures, I know this is futile, but… I try :)

DAGUERROTYPE, France 1944 Private Collection.

Steve is cooling down from his very early run, enjoying the feeling of the pink sunrise looming over the awakening Brooklyn streets as he walks the last couple of blocks on the way home, when his phone beeps.

“Check your actual mailbox, we dropped something for you there. I think you should appreciate us making it old-fashioned just for you, grandpas!”

Steve smiles at Sam’s text and as soon as he arrives at their building he snaps a picture of the very common and flat envelope with “Barnes&Rogers” scribbled on top of a Stark Logo, to send along his response.

“Nice try, but this is inaccurate. A letter would have never made its way to us without an address or stamp. We’ll send you a proper thank you card to show you how it’s done.”

He can’t help but chuckle at his own joke rereading the text while he opens the door, and when he looks up from his phone and into the kitchen, he is received by a sleepy Bucky looking at the coffee machine like he looks at Steve during their most soft and embarrassingly cheesy moments.

“You love that thing more than you love me, confess it.”

“In the mornings? Yes. I don’t even like you in the mornings most of the time,” he answers matter of factly. “Want some?”

Steve playfully wiggles an eyebrow.

“No way. Your sweaty self is tempting, but coffee smells better. I might join you in the shower later.” Bucky offers him one of the two cups he has poured and he notices the envelope Steve is holding. “What is that?”

“We’ve got mail!” He hands it to Bucky. “I have no idea what's on it, but Sam texted me to say they had something delivered to our mailbox and there it was. Open it.”

Bucky leaves the cup on the counter, face sparked with a curiosity that makes him look twenty-one (and Steve weak on the knees), and goes for it.

The content is a bit underwhelming at first glance: Another envelope, white, no Stark logo, but topped with a bright green post-it with a note on Pepper’s script.

“This got to me via PR. We analyzed it and checked with the source (no peeking, I swear) and it seems legit. With that return address, it’s likely to arouse your interest. Love, P.”

Bucky tears off the post-it and the letter is revealed to be addressed to Steve Rogers at the Stark Tower, but it is when they turn it around when everything goes still for a second.

The return address is some street in Marseille, but what has Steve’s mouth dry and Bucky’s hand trembling just a bit is the combination of the place and the name written on top: Emmanuelle Jaques Dernier.

“Boom?”, Bucky says, trying to cut through their heavy hearts and taking Steve’s hand. It’s a terrible terrible joke, but Dernier would have loved it and he grins.

“That’s a terrible terrible joke,” Steve verbalizes, “but I think at least we’ve reached the same conclusion.”

“Elementary, my dear Steve,” Bucky answers as he opens the second envelope, only to reveal a folded letter and yet another envelope. “It’s a fucking vault of paper!”

Steve takes the letter from him, unfolds it, and quickly scans it (normal office paper, printed, hand-signed) before he starts reading it out loud to Bucky’s undivided attention.

“Dear Mr. Rogers,

My name is Emmanuelle Dernier and I am the great-grandson of Jaques Dernier of the Howling Commandos.

First, let me tell you that we all in our family grew up with amazing stories and praise for you, Sergeant Barnes, and the rest of the team. I never got to meet my great-grandfather or any of them (you), but I’ve always felt like I did.

In fact, that’s the ultimate reason behind this letter: I ached to honor him and I’ve been putting in order all his remaining letters, pictures, and memories so they don’t get lost forever, and there are many things I’m discovering through this journey. So many pictures and tiny details… and amongst them, you and the rest of the Commandos appear at the most random and memorable moments. Nothing that’s going to make it into history books, more like the stories my grandpa used to share with us over and over again, those important tidbits that make him more human.

Anyway, I was going through the pictures he kept when I came across some war photos that didn’t seem to match the 40s timeframe. Typical daguerreotypes from the 20s in a very bad state, probably taken with a camera from the era in 1944 and developed on a later date by somebody who clearly didn’t master the technique.

They were in a very bad state and hidden inside an envelope that said “Terribly drunk soldiers in France making idiots of ourselves in unique and creative ways. Fun evening, horrible hangover. About 20 miles west of the Maginot Line. Autumn ‘44”. I’m attaching a photocopy of that, I hope you can understand my decision to keep the original.

After restoring the daguerreotypes with some experts, all I got were five very bad pictures with silhouettes of people apparently having fun…. but there was one that got a lot better in the cleaning process that feels important somehow. I’m sending the original, as well as the restored version I got.

I, of course, don’t have the whole context, but I hope it brings back a good memory. My great-grandpa might be in the picture, but I don’t think this one belongs to my family or to a museum.

Thank you for your service, I really hope this letter finds its way to you.

E.Dernier.”

“I can’t believe… Steve, most days I’m convinced that day and that place are a figment of my imagination,” Bucky smiles, remembering. “When I think of a moment of pure joy during the war, I think about that afternoon in France, and it always feels unreal. A bubble of air and laughter while we were so surrounded by death.”

Steve nods, reminiscing about that warm and humid September morning when they arrived at yet another abandoned and destroyed little village, this one about twenty miles west of the Maginot Line. They had orders to lie low and wait for twenty-four hours before they started the maneuver to wipe another Hydra base off the map, and that little town was perfect for that.

Among bomb debris and fallen walls, they found one small building miraculously standing next to the remains of the church, so they decided to set camp under a roof for a change since the weather was being a little flickery with the rain, and they had the rare luxury of time.

The inside of the tiny house was as unusual as the outside: nothing was destroyed beyond being dusty and worn by time, and everything they found (furniture, kitchenware, and even fabrics) belonged more to Steve and Bucky’s early childhoods than to 1944, a living museum frozen in time.

Only it was not a museum, but the parish house left untouched and non-raided: old-fashioned clothes, outdated church books, yellowing clergy collars, and, of course, the wine cellar. Oh, that wine cellar… the havoc it unleashed.

“I remember the absolute excitement when Falsworth found all those bottles of old unscathed mass wine from the parish,” Steve brings his memory to words, looking at Bucky, “I’m still a little convinced that we are going to hell for drinking them.”

“Not for that, probably, but it was a wonder nobody died on the spot of wine poisoning, it tasted like sweet vinegar, ugh.”

“But it did his part, right? Took our minds off things; got us drunk, bold and silly.” Steve answers.

“Apparently not all of us,” Bucky says very seriously, looking at Steve.

“Technicalities… I got drunk by proxy. Seeing you all so happy made me giddy and tipsy, too.”

“I came and went… I remember being a little surprised at the clarity of my thoughts at some moments there when some of the guys were basically drooling on the floor. Now I understand, of course.”

Steve squeezes his hand, not much to be said there.

They were already way too drunk by the early afternoon, drinking to the sound of a sudden rainstorm pouring outside. All of them scattered across the small dusty living room and its adjoining kitchen while they went through all the bottles of wine they had been able to find. Cheering for the foregone priest every time somebody raised a glass, and laughing as if there were no ruins or war on the other side; just silly men (boys, really) laughing their hearts out.

“Earth to Steve… I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to see what the hell that envelope is hiding. Especially now that we know about its time stamp.”

“I’m sorry, me too! Gabe drunkenly handling that old camera and those glass plaques the way he did? I’m honestly impressed that he was able to take any pictures at all,” he muses. “Shit, is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“I’m gonna save us the bantering because I’m nervous, too,” Bucky answers in all sincerity. “Truth is, Steve, I remember everything about that day.”

It’s a new admission, a newly opened door for them because for some reason, they have never talked about that peaceful surreal afternoon, and Steve nods in recognition as he silently goes for the envelope one-handed, not wanting to let go of Bucky’s hand because his surface is way cooler than his wrenching insides. Maybe the picture is an overexposed french wall but maybe…

The photo he extracts from the envelope is clearly the original and damaged one Emmanuelle specified in his letter. Anybody else looking at it would see nothing beyond Dernier’s blurry profile, but since Steve and Bucky were there when this was taken, they know exactly what moment Steve is holding in his hand.

“Buck,…” is all Steve can say, struck by the blurry keepsake.

Later in the afternoon when they had already consumed most of the wine and there was not a single coherent thought left in the room, one of the guys took the parish books and besottedly announced that there was a wedding set for today… thirty years ago. Alcohol fueled a goofy idea that escalated at the speed of light, with Morita saying they were going to a wedding because they deserved a celebration, Dernier confessing that he had once considered becoming a priest, and Dum-dum bringing out all the old fashioned clothes from the wardrobe and deciding they were getting nice and clean for the festivities.

“That’s clearly Dernier in the picture killing it in his priest role, right?” Bucky says, half smiling and interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “You know, I went all-in with that fake wedding party. I was laughing to tears when I saw you put on that ridiculously long and ill-fitting jacket from the 10s, feeling weightless and silly for the first time since sailing off, and God knows we all deserved that. And it was all safe and light-hearted until fucking Morita decided you had to be the groom, and...”

“Were you jealous because I won the dashing groom competition?”

Steve’s attempt at a joke is weak, but there’s truth behind it: Morita chose Steve as the groom (“Cap, you are the most dashing and the least drunk”) to a chorus of excited voices cheering for him. Somebody else, most likely Dum-Dum, chose the rest of the roles (Sarge, best man duty; Jones, camera; Morita, keep the wine flowing; the rest of you, misbehave!) and in the blink of an eye, they were all going outside laughing under a light rain, and about to celebrate Steve’s fictional wedding to nobody.

“How could I be jealous?” Bucky cuts in. “Do you remember all you said to me that afternoon? During World War II and in front of a battalion of men?”

“I was drunk.”

“Fuck you!” Bucky disentangles his hand from Steve’s to use both of them to hold Steve’s face and kiss him with violence. “Tell me. Do you remember what you said?”

As if he could ever forget. He can recall every step he took from the house to the makeshift wedding spot amidst the trees where his best man (looking dapper even in that ludicrous jacket) was laughing along Dernier. He can still smell the petrichor, can still sense the blush coloring his cheeks while hoping nobody noticed and can still hear the beating of his heart when Bucky handed him a battered umbrella (“You don’t deserve to get rained on your wedding day, punk”) and a fucking ring made out his shoelaces (“You’ll have to buy something a little more permanent.”). And then…

“Dernier started the ceremony and he wanted to know if I had somebody in mind and I said ‘of course’.” He replays, his voice barely a whisper. “I said I’d had my eyes on a brown-haired Brooklynite since before I could remember. I said that I was pretty sure those blue eyes were set on mine too and that hopefully those eyes would be set enough to want to marry me even if I had never dared to ask.”

He’s been holding Bucky’s gaze the whole time, and he’s far from over yet, but he needs to fucking breathe before he goes on. Neither of them has moved a muscle for the past minute.

“Then he asked me to repeat the wedding vows after him and…”

“And you said Buck, right?”, Bucky interrupts, voice winded. “You fucking whispered I take you, Buck, as my lawful wedded husband till the end of the line. I heard, Steve. Even if the rest of the world didn’t, I did. But you never said anything, so I always deemed it impossible, a product of the corniest nook of my mind trying to outweigh all those bad things, because not even you could be as bold, reckless, and mushy as to do that,…it’s my fucking fault, I should have known better!”

“Not completely reckless, pal. I was scared shitless as I said those words, but what else could I do? You were right by my side about to put a ring on my finger as my “best man”, everyone, including you, supposedly drunk past recollection, and everybody else too far away to hear my whispers. It was such an easy choice in the end because truth should always win over fear. And those vows were. The truth.”

“You have always been too honest for your own good, Rogers,” Bucky is breathless and exasperated and goes for his mouth again, bringing in all he (they) couldn’t in 1944. “You destroyed me, Steve. My knees were as weak as a teenager’s in front of his first crush. I wanted to kiss you so badly when I heard you say all that there in the open… and I couldn’t even acknowledge it.”

“I know. And for what it's worth, I really thought you didn’t remember.”

It is too much. Is it normal to feel this much? Steve would blame it on the serum enhancements, but he was already overwhelmed at 16, so that’s clearly not the answer.

He craves, no, he needs touching, grounding, closer. Bucky. There’s too much space between them even if they are back to kissing like they would have that day in 44, and at any other time if their own lives wouldn’t have stolen those moments from them.

“It happened.” Bucky whimpers, biting on Steve’s lip who abandons his own stool to straddle him, both of them gasping in sync at the feeling of their cocks, hard against each other’s through their soft pants.

Bucky soon ups the stakes by carding his metal hand through Steve’s hair pulling his head backwards to help himself into that spot on his neck.

“Same two moles as when you were tiny, as when we were at that war... Your cute vampire bite. Favorite spot.” He licks on them with the tip of his tongue. Steve growls on cue and Bucky giggles. “Favorite chain reaction.”

“Buck, you cheater, you know what that does to me!” Steve cries out followed by Bucky’s evil chuckle.”Bed, couch, countertop,…I don’t care, but naked. Now. Stained pants due to heavy petting are too much of a trip down memory lane for me. Let me keep a bit of my dignity.”

Steve stands up liberating Bucky from his grip but aching at the loss of contact.

They are naked and making out in the middle of the kitchen in no time; Bucky steadily pushing him against the refrigerator while fiercely grinding against his crotch.

“Hey, ‘teve,” Bucky pants. “The way this is going, it’s my dignity now that's at risk. I don’t think I can make it further than the floor before I come.”

Steve groans into his mouth just at the thought and they start sliding to the floor the best they can until he’s a human blanket moving over Bucky. With no lube at hand, and no time, that’s their best option.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, his hands not leaving Bucky’s sweaty hair. Bucky’s hands on his ass, forcing their groins closer with one while he (almost absently) plays around his hole with the other, driving Steve crazy in the process. Dicks left to do their own thing through pressure and friction. Everything is working. And fast.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky exclaims “Can you promise me all this stuff with the letter was real and not a long-con plan to assure your fragile masculinity that I love you more than I love that espresso machine?”

That. That silly unfunny excuse of a joke that screams Bucky all over is what pushes Steve all the way over the edge. He fucking laughs as he comes making absolutely embarrassing sounds, pressing their foreheads and noses together until it hurts, and shaking from head to toe without stoping his pressure on the stupid and smug man under him. His lover. His partner. His unofficial husband. His best friend.

His Buck.

“There’s still too much blood in your brain if you can play that dirty,” Steve states, placing one hand between them grabbing Bucky’s hard cock. “Let’s see if I can do anything about it.”

“Your hand, usually so helpful, but I was already following you after that sound you make when you come and laugh at the same time, shit, it always goes straight to my dick, I’m,…” he keeps talking with difficulty between breaths and moans until he leaves his speech unfinished coming all over Steve’s fist.

They kiss on the lips breathing into each other before Steve rolls over. They are sticky and panting in silence, spread on their kitchen’s floor, Steve’s shoulders crushed between Bucky’s and the dishwasher. Domestic bliss at its most literal.

One lavish fuck and two showers later they reemerge into the kitchen in search of something to eat: Bucky is in charge of the food today, while Steve cleans the mess they left a couple of hours ago.

He’s decluttering the counter when their damaged picture laying there puts a smile on his face but also reminds him of the restored version presumably still waiting inside the disregarded letter, so he grabs the envelope to retrieve its contents: one photocopy (from Dernier’s original writing), and the promised photo.

And it is restored. Everything is clear where it was blurry before: Dernier (so deep into his priest impersonation that he’s not even looking at them), the trees, the battered umbrella, the ridiculous jackets… and them.

“You had the nerve to call me reckless and mushy, Buck?” Steve laughs as he stares at the picture where a very young Bucky is about to put a ring on his finger with the least subtle lovestruck expression he’s ever seen (“and it’s for you”, his brain proudly reminds him) “Wow, you might as well be kissing me there, anything would be more subtle than this!”

“Don’t shame me, you punk, especially not when you were the one responsible for breaking my brain back then!” Bucky answers coming from behind and stealing the picture from his hands to scrutinize it. Goofy grin and raging blush quickly taking over his face. “But you’re one to talk, Cap. You are gazing at that shoelace’s ring as if I were handing you a diamond tiara!”

Steve laughs softly at that and moves his right hand to his pocket, feeling the weight of the little compass he had retrieved earlier from one of his drawers. He used to carry it with him everywhere for comfort, but he has a better option now.

“Didn't you know that shoelaces are forever?” He asks, taking the compass out of his pocket and holding it in both hands as he opens it, nudging Bucky with his elbow to get his attention.

Bucky is confused for an instant while he looks at his young face staring at them from inside the little box. Of course he knew that (he made fun of Steve for days and days) but Steve detects the change in his expression when he notices the other thing.

“Wow, you gigantic sap,” Bucky says, taking the compass out of his hands to double-check he is seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. “You saved my shoelace.”

He had. While they were all celebrating his wedding under the rain dancing to no music, he quietly slipped the little string off his finger and tied it to the most secure place he had back then.

“It’s not a shoelace, you jerk, it’s a symbol. A declaration.” He laughs, stealing the compass back to safely pocket it again.

“You are delusional,” Bucky snorts, kissing the top of his head. But he’s widely smiling and lost in thought as he goes back to their sandwiches.

Steve stays on the spot enjoying the peace in their silent companionship, his focus on the latest news showing up on his phone, the text he’s writing to Sam and the comforting sounds of Bucky moving around the kitchen.

“You might have married me, but I never actually married you.” Bucky blurts out of the blue a bit later, sitting by his side as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and some grilled greens on it. “Do you want mayo with that?”

“Uh?” Steve forgets all about the news and the text and looks at Bucky in confusion.

“Mayo, do you want some?” Bucky repeats nonchalantly.

“No mayo, thank you; but I was actually more interested in the other part, you know, that thing about marriage?”

Bucky looks him in the eye: earnest, blushing and with the same look of smug adoration he had on the picture.

“Oh, that part.” He jokes. “You apparently married me in 1944, but I never married you back. And I would like to.”

“Marry me?” Steve asks and Bucky visibly nods.

“I’m sorry for throwing the idea at you like this, books tell me I'm supposed to have candles, music, and a ring, but you showed me that restored picture and I couldn't stop thinking about it, about proof,” Bucky speaks uncharacteristically slow and very softly, voice trembling here and there while he claps his hand with Steve’s finger by finger for reassurance and as a distraction. “A single photo had the power to transform a moment that existed just as a made-up happy place inside my mind into something tangible and real. Something that would be tangible and real for anybody getting a hold on it and looking at our stupid faces.”

“So stealthy,” Steve says, and they both laugh together.

“Proof, Steve. I was slicing tomatoes and thinking how there’s so much evidence, thousands of files! out there proving that all the stuff that fuels my nightmares were real, but nothing solid about this. Us.” Bucky stops for a moment collecting his thoughts, still smiling even with the heavy subject he just dropped into the mix. “Sorry, I believe I put more time into these sandwiches than into thinking this all the way through so I’m…”

“Take your time, we’ve gone from mayo to marriage to nightmares in five minutes so don’t worry, you have me hooked here.”

Steve makes Bucky laugh again as he intended, and he feels their calloused laced fingers immediately squeezing closer.

“It’s stupid because it doesn’t change anything for us but,.. I don’t fucking know, Steve, I think that picture has messed up with my mind! I instantly found comfort in the idea of people finding facts beyond the nightmares now or in the future. An easy to understand, universal and oversimplified proof of how much I loved you and how much I was loved in return.” Bucky takes a breath and stares at him sporting a million-watt smile. “Marrying you,… I would really love that. And for real this time.”

“Ok, Buck.” Steve instantly replies, eagerness winning over thoughtful and heartfelt declarations. He tightens the grip on their joined hands to drive them to his lips and seals the easiest answer he’s ever had to give.

And it's done!Sorry for the cavities, for going on with the fic when it should have ended and for ending it where it might have had to keep going. It was painful and fun. I'm free!

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