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

jamneuromain · 9 months

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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

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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.”

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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

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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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the-iceni-bitch · 2 years

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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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onsunnyside · 3 years

Text

𝙎.𝙍. – Misc. [gems♕]

ft. greaser, firefighter, librarian, lumberjack, priest, rockstar,...

Read the warnings for each fic.

Organized by trope.

← 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵

Bartender!Steve:

@chanelfaerie - sazerac

Drummer!Steve:

@trillian-anders - the howlers

Firefighter!Steve:

@rodrikstark - [we can let it burn] [candlelight]

@stargazingfangirl18 - Firefighter!Steve

Famous AU:

@kinanabinks - and the oscar goes to... - actor!steve, actress!reader

Greaser!Steve Rogers:

@optimistic-dinosaur-nacho - The One I Want - pink lady!reader

Librarian!Steve:

@fallinforevans - first meeting

Lumberjack!Steve:

@angrythingstarlight -

beefy lumberjack Steve x reader

Come Here and Show Me

@cloudystevie - spitting w/ lumberjack! steve

@donutloverxo - Alone together

Mechanic!Steve:

@boxofbonesfic - Spark Plugs - A/B/O

Movie AUs:

@kleohoneyao3 - of the earth - corpse bride au

@rodrikstark - lend me your hand (we’ll conquer them all) - pacific rim au

Personal Trainer!Steve:

@angrythingstarlight - Stretching All Of You

@imamotherfuckingstar-lord - Imagine meeting Steve at the grocery store

Priest!Steve:

@balenciagabucky - forgive me father, for i have sinned

@gotnofucks - At His Alter

Rockstar AU:

@angrythingstarlight - A Private After Party - bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers

@luxeavenger - Backstage Pass - bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers

@syntheticavenger -

Press Record - steve rogers x reader, bucky barnes x reader

Quench My Desire - soft dark!rocker steve x journalist!reader

Trucker AU:

@syntheticavenger - Good Girl

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 3 years

Text

Lovers Leave | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by anon // Summary: Everyone you’ve ever loved leaves you with a broken heart. Was it something to do with you? Will you ever find true love?

A/N: anon, thank you for requesting! I changed the request up a little, so it’s not exact to what you requested but I hope you enjoy and I hope I broke your heart lol. xx

***TRIGGER WARNING: possible trigger warning; anxiety/panic attack, mentions of dying, depression and starvation; ****

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

Bucky sits across from you at the table and all you want to do right now is reach across the table and shake him. He’s just dropped a bomb of bad news; he wanted to break up but due to working together and having mutual friends, he’d like to remain friends with you and be civil about this break up.

“You want to be friends?” You ask in disbelief. You’d given a whole year to the man sitting across from you. Not to mention the year before that when he was only a crush.

“Yeah..” He sits up a little straighter and clears his throat, “I don’t want this to end on bad terms, y/n.” He reaches for your hand, “I still love you.. I always will. But this isn’t working for me right now.”

You pull your hand from his and stand, “This isn’t working for you right now?” You repeat back, venom laced in your voice, “This isn’t working for you right now?! What the hell Bucky! What kind of sick excuse is that! I’ll always love you, but oh it’s not working for me right now!”

He lets his shoulders slump from the words of your outburst, “y/n please..” He follows your movements and stands, “I don’t know what I want right now.”

“you haven’t known what you wanted for years. You left me wondering the past two years. Wondering if I was good enough. Wondering if today would be the day you’d leave me.” You laugh with a shake of your head, “And look here you are leaving me.”

Bucky reaches for you but you pull away from his grasp, “Y/n please.”

You hold your hand up, signaling him to stop talking, “Just.. just leave me alone, Bucky.” You rush out of the room and make it to yours just before you bursted into heartbreaking sobs.

It had only been a week later when you saw Bucky sneaking a girl out of the compound in the middle of the night. You’d been in the kitchen getting a glass of water when you heard their whispering and peeked around the corner to see him guiding her toward the door; her shoes in her hands. You knew living here in the compound being around Bucky wasn’t going to work.

You wondered if he’d been lying when he said he still loved you and always would. How could you mean that and only a week later of breaking things off be in bed with another woman? It only made the heartbreak hurt worse, if that was even possible.

“You’re leaving?”

You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of his voice in the doorway, “Yes.” You let your suitcase slam shut, “I can’t be here while you bring your new whores around.”

He had hoped you didn’t know about the numerous girls he’d brought home. He knew it’d been a bad idea; using random women to help him move on. It was stupid of him and he didn’t know why he was doing it. You were perfect for him, everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, yet there was a piece of him that knew deep down he wasn’t good enough for you.

Being the winter soldier broke him in ways you could never imagine and he wondered if that had something to do with his doubt of being good enough for you.

“Where will you go?” He steps into the room as you tug your suitcase off the bed and onto the floor with a thump.

“Somewhere far away from you.” You finally pull yourself to look at him, “One week. That’s how long it took for you to let another woman into your bed. All that I still love you and always will..” you take a step toward him, eyes narrowing, “ You can shove it up your ass, Bucky Barnes.”

**possible trigger warning ahead: panic attack/anxiety, talk of starvation, depression **

It had been a year since you’d left the compound. You found yourself a new start in a nice town where you’d met a wonderful man who’d you’d be marrying in only a few moments from now. Nat held your bouquet as you made your way into the venue. There at the entrance was Steve and Tony who quickly stopped talking as you entered. You could tell on their faces something was wrong.

“What’s wrong with you two?” you let out a nervous laugh and fixed your dress.

They exchanged a look.

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on.”

“He.. he’s not here.” Steve says softly.

“What do you mean he’s not here?” you glanced at Nat and then back at Steve and Tony, “We’re 45 minutes late.. What do you mean he isn’t here?”

Tony who’d took over as your mentor, put his hands on your arms in a calming matter, “He’s not coming..”

Your bottom lip trembled as you stared up at Tony. You wondered for a moment if this was life’s joke on you. Maybe Tony was messing around. He had to be messing around, right? “Tony..” You whimpered, “Please tell me..”

“He sent his brother and told us he wasn’t coming.. He didn’t want to do this with you anymore.” He wiped a tear off your cheek, “I’m so sorry..”

You let out a sob and the bouquet fell to your feet. He wasn’t coming. After months of planning this wedding, numerous I love you’s and forever promises, he sent his brother to tell someone that he wasn’t coming. He didn’t have the nerve to come to you directly and talk to you. It was the Bucky Barnes heart break all over again as you let the flood gates open. This couldn’t be happening again.

“I-I can’t breath.” You sob, pulling at the front of the dress. It felt like a box closing in on you, like you had no where to go. You’d lost Bucky. You recovered, found someone knew. Fell in love and now you’d lost another. What made it even worse was he’d left you at the alter on your wedding day and had been such a coward that he couldn’t tell you himself.

There were voices all around you and you felt overwhelmed; You tried to decipher who’s voice was who’s.

“Breath.. just breath..” Tony’s voice.

“You’re okay.” Nat’s voice.

“I’ll tell the guests.” Steve’s voice.

You stumbled back, “I.. I can’t..” You tried to focus on your breathing and get it back to a normal pace. You don’t know why, but Bucky crossed your mind and all you wanted was Bucky to be the one holding you, calming you down. How could you want someone who did you so wrong? Your mind was in overdrive and you couldn’t calm the multiple thoughts running through your mind.

You stumbled back again, but this time you fell to the ground as everything around you went black.

“She won’t eat.. she won’t drink. She won’t even talk to us.”

“We didn’t know what else to do. We’ve tried everything but she’s.. she’s just. She’s checked out.”

You could hear Nat and Tony speaking amongst each other at the door. You were curled in bed and had been for days. You couldn’t find the energy to eat or even talk. All you could do was sleep.

“She’s going to kill herself.” Tony whispered quietly, “If she doesn’t get something in her system soon.”

You were laying on your side facing the wall when a body appeared in front of you, moving a chair to sit in front of you. It wasn’t Tony or Nat. “Bucky.” You whispered softly, your voice cracking as tears pooled your eyes.

He gave a small smile and caressed your cheek with his knuckle, “Hi, Doll.”

Bucky sat at the edge of the bed and held the spoonful toward you, “Y/n, you need to eat a little something.”

“Why do you care?” You force yourself to sit up in bed.

“Because I care about if you die of starvation or not.” He pushes the spoon toward you again and you finally oblige.

“Hey there you go.” He chuckles softly, “See, it’s good right?”

Tony and Nat didn’t know what else to do and their mind drifted to Bucky. They wondered and hoped seeing him would spark any kind of reaction. A reaction to pull you from the slump you’d been feeling. And after they called him, he’d shown up within the hour.

You watch as Bucky fixes another spoonful and whisper quietly, “Am I really that unlovable?”

Bucky’s eyes snap up to yours, “What?”

Tears prick your eyes, “Am I really that horrible that no one loves me? You left me, he left me at the altar. Everyone leaves me.”

Bucky’s heart broke at your words and he let his shoulders slightly slump, “You are not unlovable.” He sets the spoon back down on the plate, “It’s quite the opposite and has nothing to do with you and who you are.”

Your bottom lip trembled as he stared at you with soft eyes, “Then why? Why does everyone I love leave me?”

He cups your cheeks with his hands making you look directly at him, “Because no one is worthy of receiving everything you have to offer them. They aren’t worthy of all the love you can give them. Boys are stupid. I should know, I’m one of them.” He wipes a stray tear, “You deserve someone who is going to love you like you will love them.”

Bucky watched with a sad heart as you stood by the man who was more than worthy enough for your love. He’d never seen you as happy as you were in this moment. It was a smile he would never be able to give you and a smile he’d never seen when he was yours.

“Do you, y/n take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“yes, I do.” You smile, gently squeezing his hands.

“And do you, Steve Rogers, take y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Steve’s heart leaps at the words. Wife. “I do.”

Bucky watched the two of you exchange those sappy and tearful vows. At one point, Steve reached over and wiped a tear from your cheek and you’d thought everyone would die at how touching the moment was. Bucky on the other hand had to look away.

“I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Steve Rogers.” The priest smiles, “Steve, you may now kiss your bride.”

“Finally!” Steve cheers with a grin which earns a laugh from you and the guests.

Bucky stood as everyone else did, clapping for the happy couple. You were happy and that is all that mattered to him. Even if it meant he wasn’t the reason for your happiness anymore.

All my works tag list: @blossomreed , @mggstyles , @simonsbluee , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafejjwhore , @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen , @reniescarlett

Marvel tag list: @hommoturttle , @iheartsebastianstan , @5jacobm5 , @lovely-geek , @fangirl-swagg , @1-800-thanos , @jessyballet

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

(updated 26 October 2021)

MARVEL

+++++

Steve Rogers

One-Shots

Choose : Steve realizes he can’t let you go when you’re stuck in a safe house with him (dark!steve x reader)

Ball's In Your Court : Steve and Y/n have been playing games for years. But now that Rogers is acting like a little bitch, Y/n throws him a curve ball that will either make them or break them.

Pot of Gold : You went broke and bet your pussy.

Special Training : Steve takes special interest in your training (dark!Steve x Reader)

Nectar: Steve's waited a long time to have you again after the birth of your daughter. (soft!dark King Steve x Reader)

Their Poison : A billionaire, a sorcerer and a soldier walk into a bar. Their only poison of choice is you. (Dark!Steve x dark!Tony x dark!Stephen x reader)

The Airport Cliché : You make sure your love story has the necessary cliché to make it legit.

No One's Bitch: If Steve thought you'll bend to his will, he was dead wrong. This kitty has some claws (dark!Steve x Reader)

Bartered: You were his, despite wearing another man's ring on your hand. (Dark!Steve x Reader)

Renewing Vows: Steve reminds you of your promises as his wife. (Dark!Steve x Reader)

Colour Me Red: Your boss is chasing you like the proverbial hound of hell, and one vibrant shade of red is going to be his undoing, and yours.

Midnight Adventures: He thinks you’re trying to escape him, even though he’d made it clear who you belong to. Though the truth is far more innocuous than that. (soft!dark Steve x Reader)

Lover's Quarrel: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win.

The Journey to Daddy: Five times you call Steve 'daddy', and one time he asks you to.

In Mind and Heart : When your former supersoldier lover shows up at your door a year later, the last thing you expect him to do is ask for another fuck. You let in him because of friendship, and he refused to let you go because of love. This was not how it was supposed to go. (Soft!dark Steve x Reader)

Murder at the Whorehouse : When Sergeant Barnes assigns you a murder case at the brothel, you didn’t know you’d cross paths with Steve Rogers who was a bigger mystery than the case itself. (Ft. Stucky x Reader)

Series

At His Alter: You fall in love with a man already belonging to someone else. (Priest!Steve)

Condemned To Him: It’s hard to love someone you were meant to hate. But Steve doesn’t care, and he will have your love no matter how much you deny it. (soft!dark!Steve x Reader)

Happily Ever After : Steve won't take no for an answer (dark!Steve x Reader)

Happily Ever After-2 : You are welcomed in your new life, as the bride of Steve Rogers (dark!Steve x Reader)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Post Traumatic Fuck Fest (Steve Rogers)

Please Hurt me (Mob!Steve Rogers)

Peeping Tom (Steve Rogers)

+++++

Bucky Barnes

One-Shots

Madness, Thy name is Barnes: You and Bucky put on a show for the team

Night Ritual : You and Bucky have a night time ritual

Lovely Shade of Green : Jealousy is a very good look on your boyfriend

Fallen Together : Bucky and you spend a winter morning in each other's arms

Hide-And-Eat : Nothing stops Bucky when he's hungry for you.

Gluttony is a Sin : You and Bucky put a little something extra in your food and Sam learns Gluttony is a sin for a reason

Promised to Him : You return back to your town after years, hoping to start anew. But faces of the past reappear, set to fulfill promises you had made years ago. (dark!Biker!Bucky x Reader)

To the beat of sin : In the heat of music, you do something that makes Bucky mad. He reminds you of who you belong you, but you have a lesson for him too. (rockstar!Bucky x rockstar!reader)

The Second Coming: You were about to marry the love of your life. You were ready to be happy and determined to be a good wife. But then he returned. Your past came into your life to remind you that he would never let you go, and there is little you could do to stop him. (Royal AU) (dark!Bucky x Reader, ft. Peter Parker)

A Sack of Skin: You had thought burying him would have rid you of him. But he came back to haunt you in the worst way possible. (Dark! Ghost!Bucky x Reader, Possessed!Steve x Reader)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

A love there is no cure for (WS Bucky)

+++++

Steve x Reader x Bucky

One-Shots

Going Against Nature : Steve and Bucky would change the laws of nature if that’s what would take to make you theirs. or: Steve and Bucky don’t like it when you smell like Peter Parker. (dark!alpha!Steve x reader, dark!alpha!Bucky x reader) A/B/O

Meet the Parents : You're daddies little girl and Peter wants to take you out (featuring Peter Parker)

Murder at the Whorehouse : When Sergeant Barnes assigns you a murder case at the brothel, you didn’t know you’d cross paths with Steve Rogers who was a bigger mystery than the case itself.

Series

•Master of His Own Fate: As far as Bucky knew, fate would not decide who you belong to. Very twisted dark soulmate AU. (dark!Bucky x Reader, dark!Steve x Reader)

Master of His Own Fate-2

•Their Surrogate : When Steve and Bucky ask you to be the surrogate mother for their child, you couldn’t say no. (dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader)

Their Surrogate - 2 Their Surrogate-3 (completed)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Bound and Blindfolded (Stucky x Reader)

+++++

Stephen Strange

Congruence : Stephen and Loki want you. You are confused. Wong is an angsty person. (featuring Loki)

Their Poison : A billionaire, a sorcerer and a soldier walk into a bar. Their only poison of choice is you. (Dark!Steve x dark!Tony x dark!Stephen x reader)

+++++

Loki

Congruence : Stephen and Loki want you. You are confused. Wong is an angsty person. (featuring Stephen Strange)

+++++

Tony Stark

Series

•My Little Girl: Prince Tony hunts you on the royal hunting trip (dark!Tony Stark x reader)

My Little Girl - 2: Prince Tony has taken you, but keeping you proves more difficult that he imagined. (dark!Tony Stark x reader, slight dark!Steve x reader)

My Little Girl-3

One-Shots

Their Poison : A billionaire, a sorcerer and a soldier walk into a bar. Their only poison of choice is you. (Dark!Steve x dark!Tony x dark!Stephen x reader)

+++++

Peter Parker

Protected : How were you to know who's a monster, who's a savior when they all hide behind a mask (dark!Peter x reader)

Meet the Parents : You're daddies little girl and Peter wants to take you out (featuring Stucky)

+++++

SamBucky

Parts of Whole: Steve would see his OTP's ship sail, even from across the grave (ft. Steve Rogers)

Sam Wilson

To Sin in Love: You're forced to choose between the man who owns your heart and the one who owns your soul. (Ft. Lucifer)

RANSOM DRYSDALE

One-Shots

One Day : Ransom meets sub!reader but she won’t kneel for him

Thirty One Days : Ransom and you are on a month-long challenge. Who will win and what are the stakes?

The Unreformed Rake: Ransom Drysdale is a notorious rake, but he seems to have taken a shine to you. When he plans to make you his, nothing would stand in his way. No is not a word he understands. (Soft!dark Ransom x Reader)

The Fated Mate: Ransom always knew he’d be your alpha. Despite you not presenting yet, he just knew you were meant to be his. No matter how much you ran, you always found him waiting for you at the end of the line. They said it was fated, and sometimes fate was a bitch. (A/B/O)

Sleeping Beauty: He waits for sleep to claim you, so that he can do the same later (dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) Kinktober Day 1

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Breeding Kink + Housewife Kink w/Ransom

ANDY BARBER

One-Shots

Golden Cage : You asked Andy to take your case and he asked for you to give yourself to him as payment. (soft!dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

Trespassing : You trespass on forbidden land, catching the eye of the creature that dwells within. (dark!demon!Andy Barber x Reader)

No Judgements: An Omega in heat is never fit to make a fair judgement, especially not when her delicious meat of an Alpha is concerned. (A/B/O)

His Responsibility : When you're pregnant and scared, Andy decides he will take the responsibility, whether you want it or not. (dark!Andy x reader)

A Man's World: To advance in a man’s world, you must allow one to own you. He promises you success, as long as you give yourself to him. (soft!dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

LEE BODECKER

One-Shots

Sweet Tooth : Sheriff, you and his sweet tooth

The Claiming of the Sheriff: You wanted him, he wanted you. But he was too honourable and you were too greedy. So you made the choice for both of you. (dadsbestfriend!Lee x soft!dark Reader)

Series

•Sell My Soul : You cut a deal with the Sheriff to save your brother (dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Sell My Soul -2 : Your husbands finds a secret you’ve been keeping and he is not happy. (dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Sell My Soul - 3 : Last part to the series (soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Drabbles Masterlist

SHERLOCK HOLMES

One-Shots

What's Your Escape : Sherlock could never resist a mystery, especially not one as deliciously wrapped as you (dark!Sherlock Holmes x reader)

Death by Pleasure : Death by Pleasure isn't a thing. Is it? (Dark!Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

A worthy throne (Sherlock Holmes)

CHRIS EVANS

One-Shots

Loving Dodger : Your journey of overcoming your fear of dogs to loving Dodger.

Muse Music : Chris plays for you

Chemical Romance: Chris won't have you running away from him. You're his. He owns your heart, and now he'll own all of you.

AUGUST WALKER

One-Shots

Compromise: Your surrender to him would ensure the safety of the world (dark!August Walker x Reader)

Prometheus: You disappoint August and must make up for it

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Pluto is not a Planet (Hades! August Walker)

LUCIFER

To Sin in Love: You're forced to choose between the man who owns your heart and the one who owns your soul. (Ft. Sam Wilson)

JAKE JENSEN

At the Dinner Table: Request: How about Jake Jensen meeting the reader's parents for the first time and since he's an adorkable idiot, chaos ensues?

Drabbles/Headcanons/Blurbs (Miscellaneous/Multi-characters and fandoms)

When you feel ugly and the boys won't have it (BB, SR, LB, TS, RD, LL, SH)

When Reader is tall and slim and not curvy (SR, BB, RD, LB, AB)

Dick Fingers (very weird ask)

Detention (Severus Snape hc)

Remedial Potions (dark! Severus Snape)

Does your mother know (Hook)

When Reader has anorexia and body image issues (BB, LB, LL)

BODY POSITIVITY CHALLENGE

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cheeseburgersstuff · 4 years

Text

Some Other World

King Steve Rogers x Reader

(Medieval AU)

Warnings: language, (shitty writing...)

Master-list

Chapter 12

Tony was looking at Pepper, who was walking down the aisle with her brother. Everyone was standing looking in awe at the princess. Steve let go of her hand and gave her to Tony, nodding towards him.

No matter how much she tried to not look at him and ignore him, she couldn’t help but notice his wet eyes, he was being emotional at his sister’s wedding. y/n smiled, finding it cute, if the real Steve had a little sister, he would’ve also looked like this one. Walking her down the aisle to her new life, leaving her hand, watching her go with wet eyes.

He went back and stood with everyone else, Catherine went towards him and held his hand. That made y/n roll her eyes. It wasn’t considered good for women to show affection to a man, except for her husband at that time. Watching her medieval self throwing herself on Steve was making her cringe. He always seemed uncomfortable around her but she wasn’t the one to get a hint.

Steve looked towards Catherine and politely took his hand from her. That made y/n smile but she tried to suppress it. The priest’s voice brought her back

“Do you take Petrona as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

“I do,” Tony said without controlling his smile, everyone could see how happy he was. There, she saw the tony she knew. He would also be this happy at his wedding one day.

“Do you take Anthony as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

“I do”

After announcing them as husband and wife, they kissed. It was indeed a shy kiss. It was weird for her, seeing the playboy giving his wife a little shy peck on the lips. After the wedding everyone started to leave the hall, preparing themselves for the night.

y/n also went to her room, seeing Steve coming towards her. What would he want with her now?

After reaching her room, she saw another dress and sighed. When would she get rid of dressing up? She was never the one to dress up. Always roaming around in those big sized shirts covering her tights.

She undressed and laid on the bed in her underclothes. What would happen if she wore those here? They would faint seeing a girl like that. She chuckled thinking about that.

There was still some time until the reception started. She decided to sleep, this was the only way to get rid of her thoughts after a drink, which she doubted she would get here.

A knock on her door made her wake up. She groaned in annoyance, no matter what the world is, real or alternate one, everyone was disturbing her sleep. She opened the door, yawing. Sharon was there with a big smile on her face but seeing her with an open mouth and in her underwear, Sharon gasped making her realize she wasn’t wearing anything. Sharon pushed her inside the room and closed the door. She turned towards her, covering her eyes. “Why aren’t you wearing anything, my lady?” Sharon whispered. “What? you've seen me naked, open your eyes Sharon” y/n chuckled. “No, I have not”. y/n came near her “hmm..what about when you gave me a bath. When I stripped my clothes off my body. You didn’t see me?” y/n whispered in her eyes, making her red with embarrassment. “N..no I have n..not” she managed to say.

y/n smirked looking at an embarrassed Sharon closing her eyes.

She chuckled, “okay, now open your eyes, I know you have seen me. Don’t lie or I’ll make you see me then.” Sharon opened her eyes. She wasn’t looking at her. “I have not seen anything like that. This thing you are wearing is different. A..and if anyone else would see you in this? You..shouldn’t have opened your door in these?” she said, stuttering.

“Oh C'mon now don’t be shy, tell me how am I looking in these? Though they aren’t the sexy ones. I have a lot sexier than these?” y/n didn't realize what she said until Sharon looked at her “you have more? Where?” y/n got quiet, she fucked up again. But it was Sharon, she could handle it. “Umm… I guess. I mean I could have more, in my home. Which I don’t remember.” she murmured

“Anyway, can I wear the earlier ones. Why change every time.” y/n said picking the same one she wore. Sharon took that from her and gave her the fancier one. That dress was indeed beautiful but it looked uncomfortable. The more pretty dress it would be, the more uncomfortable it would be. “You would look pretty. Maybe you could find someone.” Sharon said, with the tone she used earlier to tease her. y/n raised her eyebrow and looked at her. “Well, first, I’m not a royal brat like everyone else here and second, I don't want to get dressed so someone could like me. If they want me, they have to accept me without any dolled up getup.” y/n said making her chuckled. “They would surely like the way you are. But you can’t go like that.” Sharon said pointing towards her naked body. They both started to laugh loudly.

After getting ready again, she turned towards Sharon. “Don’t tell me I look good because I’m not feeling good. How can I even walk in this thing.” y/n complained. Sharon came near her and stretched her lips into a smile, “now, you look perfect. And do not worry about the dress. You’ll feel used to it after some time. I think you should go, everyone would be waiting.”

“Why would anyone wait for me? No one would be waiting.” y/n said. “Um… his majesty, was asking for you?” Sharon hesitantly told her, making her stiff. “Why would he ask for me from you?” “Maybe he wanted to talk to you and he knows I’m your handmaiden that’s why he asked me,” Sharon said with a smile. y/n gulped and started to leave. “You really look beautiful.”

She turned around “thank you,” she said with a smile.

The people there were a lot more than at the wedding. Catherine was talking with Nat and bucky. Tony and pepper, the couple, sitting on the front, receiving everyone’s congratulations. y/n smiled seeing them happy, it was as if they were the real tony and pepper.

She went towards them. Tony looked at her and smiled “look, who is here. The feisty one.” she rolled her eyes playfully. She bowed towards them, making him chuckle. “I am here to give the king and his queen my congratulations.” she tried to say in their accent. Both Tony and pepper laughed, making her laugh too. “Don’t laugh, at least I tried.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said. She didn’t spend time with pepper, considering she was a princess and was busy in her wedding preparations.

She smiled at both of them before leaving. She was looking around when she saw Loki and thor. They came towards her and greeted her “look, my lady. My brother Lukas, my brother which I told you about.`` His voice was loud and energetic. y/n smiled at Loki. He smiled shyly towards her. He was the same but still, there was something in his eyes. An innocence in his eyes which she didn’t see when he was attacking new york.

Thor excused himself to bring something to drink. So it was just Loki and y/n. He was looking everywhere but her. She chuckled “so, tell me about yourself. Lukus. Can I call you Loki? If you don’t mind.” she asked. “Y..yes” he cleared his throat. “I heard you lost your memory my lady,” Loki asked. “Umm.. just call me y/n. And...yes, I'm having some issues with my memory chip” she said laughing. He didn’t understand why she was laughing but he forced a laugh anyway.

Thor came with wine in his hands. “I thought you could have some?” he said, giving her the glass. She never thought she would be this happy by seeing wine.

She instantly took the glass and took a sip. All her excitement went away on the first sip. That was shit. She spilled it without even realizing. “What the fuck is that?” She looked at thor. Both the brothers were laughing at her expressions. “It’s wine.” they manage to say. “That’s shit. I was really hoping to get wasted but no, I’m better off without it,” she said. Another thing added to her most missing things list. Nothing, not a single thing here, she liked except for Steve’s beard.

Thank god she wasn't born in this era.

“You haven’t drunk wine before.” thor asked with amusement. She wanted to scream, for calling that shit wine. She wasn’t a fan of wine but her world’s was much better than this one. “I guess, nothing like this one.” “I also didn’t like it, the first time I drank it,” Loki said with a smile. It was weird seeing him smile.

They were talking when y/n felt someone was looking at her. She looked around but she didn’t see anyone. After a few minutes, Steve came into the hall, and Katherine was with him. A big smile on her face. y/n was looking in their way when steve caught her eyes.

She instantly excused herself and went outside, to breathe in the fresh air. She really needed to control herself. He was a King from another reality, not Steve. Why was she being such a loser? He didn’t give her any look, it was just her imagination. That’s what she was telling her when someone came behind her. First, she thought it was Steve but the voice forced her to turn around. “Ah! Look what we have here.”....

@champagnesugamama

@smilexcaptainx

@ashwarren32

#chris evans #captain america #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #marvel #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #ransom drysdale #captain america x reader #hugh ransom drysdale #king steve rogers #ransom drysdale x reader #medieval au #medieval #time travel #some other world

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until-we-fall-in-love · 5 years

Text

(remember me, love,) when i’m reborn: chapter four

-Read Chapter Three-

(remember me, love,) when i’m reborn Masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanov x Reader if you squint

Summary: You're thrown back into the field as Sparrow as the hunt for Captain America continues. Maria Hill reveals a secret and you devise a plan.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of violence, Bucky’s torture and abuse

If you are under 18 you should not be reading this!

A/N: hello!! first of all, i’d just like to thank everyone who has expressed their interest and excitement for this story, it means so much to me!! i’d also like to thank everyone liking and reblogging and leaving comments!! i apologize for the somewhat long wait for this chapter, i had a little trouble with it as it’s pretty eventful! thank you again for reading and being supportive! please let me know what you think of this chapter :)

Read on Ao3

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2013

Pierce has given you the day off; October 12th, 2013.

Two years ago, on October 12th, 2011, your sister had died in action on a mission in Ukraine. Her body had been recovered; Pierce had told you it was so you could bury her properly, but you knew it was for HYDRA, so no one else could replicate the serum in her blood. Regardless, you were thankful to have her back in any capacity, despite the bitterness that you had to swallow down each time you looked at Pierce.

Sometimes you couldn’t even look at him.

You’d buried her body alone, in a lonely grave, solitary and lost among all the others in a cemetery in Washington D.C. on a foggy, hazy autumn day. There had been no ceremony, no funeral, just you and the newly unearthed ground, the smell of petrichor thick and damp, and a small crane that had gently set her in. No priest, no religion, no God to pray to.

You’d sunk to you knees beside the hole in the ground; you wished you’d known what her favorite flowers had been, if she’d liked them at all, wished the pale lilies you tossed atop the casket meant anything more than tradition; only an even number of flowers. Sticks atop it to confuse the spirits, vague Russian traditions you know but have never practiced until now.

HYDRA had never given her the chance to be anything but a weapon. You knew her better than anyone, she was so intricately woven with you, tethered by blood and tendon and something human and miraculous. Tied to you by experience and memory.

And yet, you couldn’t name her favorite color. Or if she preferred the rain to the sun.

Did she have any one else the way you had Bucky?

Was there anyone else you could’ve grieved with?

You hadn’t known then and any way of knowing, was buried deeply in the ground two years ago.

You stare at her grave now, her name etched prettily onto simple stone. Her real name, the one that you only spoke in stifling darkness, in the depths of HYDRA, when you were alone and together.

In your hands is a simple, black case. You’ve come to bury it behind her gravestone for hiding.

It burns your fingertips with the knowledge of its contents; a brilliant answer to all the contempt and vitriol hatred eating away at you since her death.

The solution, the salvation, the way you’ll destroy all of Pierce’s hard work. The way you’ll at least stun and traumatize HYDRA enough for you to leave with Bucky and never look back.

Finally free.

You inhale, find your sister’s grave once more and wish nothing more than to be able to take her with you.

But now she rests here. Without you. You without her. Tears burn your eyes momentarily and you can almost hear her voice;

“Tears for me?” She’d tousle your hair, push your head to the side. Always roughly loving. “I don’t need your tears.” But she’d give you the barest hint of a smile, all that she could ever give you.

You swallow, reach for your shovel you’d brought, too, and begin your work. You are overly careful beside her grave, as if you’ll disturb her in some way. The ground is soft and yields beneath the spade of it, easy, you sift through the dirt until there is a deep enough hole.

And then you place the black case reverently inside where it will go undisturbed until Project Insight is nearly complete.

You bury it like seeds, pat the earth and beg it to keep your secrets safe, and hope for flowers to bloom.

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2015, Present Day

You have not put on the snug, darkly maroon catsuit in years. It grips you still, hugs the length of your body and forces your shoulders back. You haven’t been in the field for as long; traded pistols for fountain-tip pens and tactical gear for prim skirts and heels. It fits still, though, it’s still yours. The glock at your waist, the knife strapped to your thigh are all still familiar; old friends that you fall into step with despite the time that’s passed.

You glance upwards at Rumlow’s strike team, impassively watching as they strap weapon after weapon to their bodies. Pierce has demanded you all go out and search for Natasha and Steve; he’s given the order to kill on sight, if they aren’t already dead.

They’d sent a missile straight into the old bunker that Natasha and Steve had been in. You’d ran to the bathroom and dry heaved the moment Pierce had announced in all his smug calmness that it’d been a direct hit. Your mind had swam, images of Steve and Natasha, pulled apart; human and flesh and blood. Mortal, despite it all. Dead, despite it all. Pierce had ordered a search for them, though, which meant there was hope.

There had to be.

You take a breath through your nose now, suck in air, forcing yourself into an eerie calm. You tilt your chin up, sizing up the rest of the team, Rumlow. You’re faster, stronger, superior to them. You only have to find Natasha and Steve first, stall, hide them, lie for them.

Your jaw ticks, fingers curling into your palms.

Rumlow picks his head up to survey you, eyes too probing, sweeping over your body in a way that makes you bristle. The knife strapped to you becomes suddenly appealing, tempting to use.

“Well, well, well,” He hums appreciatively, “I should’ve known Pierce’s personal assistant wasn’t only a pretty face.”

You draw in a breath, offer a smile of secrets, coy and small, eyes hooded as you gaze back. Perhaps you can hold his attention, distract him a little. Any time for Natasha and Steve is good time.

“It’s been awhile but,” You bite your lip, lashes fluttering up to him, “I’m excited to get back into the field.”

He smiles, rolls his shoulders back, preening with the attention you’ve flattered him with, that broad gun across his chest puffing out like some absurdly arrogant bird.

“I hope my men can keep up with you,” He says, but his eyes keep straying to your body, so the comment feels disingenuous; a line he uses to butter you up to him. Falsehood, with his wretched smile and prying eyes.

He doesn’t see all of you. He never will.

You pretend to glow beneath his praise, part your lips to respond when someone barks out a quick, “Rumlow!” And his attention of you is severed, head swiveling like that of a dog whose heard it’s name, too eager, over obedient.

They call him over, and he gives you a parting glance, telling you smoothly, “Duty calls,” And wanders over to press forward with commands of the mission at hand. You try to keep an eye roll from overcoming your features, but you do finally let your face fall, shoulders tensing.

You stalk off, boarding one of the helicarriers that will bring you directly to the sight, trying to keep your heart in your chest, refusing to think of anything but Natasha and Steve making it out alive and well.

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Nimble and quick, you ease your way through the rubble of the site, heart sinking with the sight that surrounds you. A piece of you, insidious and vile, hisses that there’s no way they survived this. But the greater, more feral and desperate part of you growls back that they have to have survived. You cannot imagine anything else, cannot even summon the emotions of grief, caught somewhere in disbelief. Maybe disillusion.

Regardless, you press onward, searching with keen eyes for any sign of where they could’ve taken cover, found shelter and survived. You look for crevices, places where they could’ve hidden. You use all your senses, enhanced and pulsing from the serum in your veins; even smell, trying to pick out the tart cherry of Natasha and the linen clean of Steve’s scents. The tang of blood, even, burned flesh or, or--

You catch a movement far in the distance, scramble quick, darting and disappearing from any other HYDRA agents sifting through the destruction they’ve created. You catch the flash of blond, a slip of red, red hair and then you spot them. Steve, stumbling out into the open, with Natasha lolled against his chest, out cold. Your heart drops but you rush over, climbing and darting over stones of cement and beams of steal from the ruined building. You hear the distant whir of a helicarrier, push yourself faster, harder, until you collide with Steve and Natasha with a surprising amount of strength, forcing him down with all your weight. You push him into hiding nearly beneath a large slab of cement, watching as the planes with their burning, spotlights sweep over you, noticing nothing.

Steve looks up at you from his knees, Natasha still in his arms, cradled there.

“Are you okay?” You hiss, dropping to your knees in front of him.

He stares at you a moment as if he can’t quite believe you’re real, blue eyes searching and wide and--

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay.” He gets out, voice strained, his breathing still ragged.

Your eyes dart down to Natasha, hand suddenly hovering, as if you might reach out and touch her, brush a strand of her hair from her face. “Is she?” You press.

“Yes,” Steve assures, “Just unconscious.” His eyes dart over you, falling to the catsuit, eyebrows inching upwards, “What are you--”

You shake your head to silence him, you don’t have the time, can feel the precious seconds that slip from you. “HYDRA is after you now. Kill order. You need to--”

“SHIELD fired the bogey, though.” Steve interjects suddenly, confused, eyes swimming and desperate as he searches for answers in your own eyes. You can’t give them.

Natasha stirs in his arms, but doesn’t wake.

In the distance, you hear footsteps, undetectable to anyone without enhanced hearing, faint against the gravel.

“Someone’s coming.” You both say at the same time and Steve’s face crumples in confusion.

“How did you hear that?” He snaps at you, baring teeth and hunching closer; secrets unraveling beneath his very eyes and he can’t keep up, already drowning in everything else, swallowed deep by the rough waves of mystery that have given him no reprieve. His blue eyes burn and simmer hot, azule and frantic. His brows are pulled together, not just in anger but anguish and distress.

On his knees, he looks like a faithless man, digging for the answers that cruel gods won’t give him.

“Listen to me,” You snap back in a low hiss, little viper that you are, suddenly lunging, fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket rough and scratching, reaching over Natasha to shake him. To force him into hearing you.

He’s taken back, blinking hard.

“Remember when I asked if you had someone outside of SHIELD you could trust?” You press, digging harder into his chest.

“Yes.”

“Go to them. Tell no one else.” You order, “Keep your feet off the dirt; stay on debris and cement so they can’t track you.” You continue, knowing what they’ll look for, knowing Steve isn’t a spy, but a soldier. He isn’t used to being hunted; feral, hungry hounds to a fox with bloodied feet. “Now go!” You snap, shoving at his chest.

Steve stands, shaky, rising through ash.

“Sam Wilson. He works at the VA.” Steve tells you then, unprompted, “Find us if you can.”

A lifeline, an outstretched hand, is what he offers you.

You swallow, keenly aware that you don’t deserve his trust after all of the secrets that you have kept from him, all of the darkness that you were born from and shrouded in.

But you nod, “I will.” You promise, truthful and bare in front of him for once, standing as Sparrow in the ruins of a HYDRA building, on top of the secrets you plan to burn.

He takes a final look at you, before turning and going, hoisting Natasha closer, footsteps careful and seeking cement.

You wait, watch his figure leave, watch as he keeps low and near cover and darkness. He’s learning, transforming in front of your very eyes, as all men do when faced with the decimation of their faith.

And when he’s out of reach, you roll your shoulders back, pretend to discover a footprint in the dirt.

“Rumlow!” You shout and he turns, hound that he is, head cocked. He comes to you, heels beside you. Fetch, you think cruelly, and throw the stick in the other direction.

He looks down at the footprint, lets out a slow breath. He then brings his walkie to his mouth and it crackles to life;

“Bring in the Asset.”

The blood in your veins turns glacier ice and black water.

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Sam Wilson, like Steve, is golden-hearted and full of a burning sort of hope in the good of people. In doing the right thing. He welcomes you into his house as if he has known you for years, offers you food and water as if you are kin.

You decline him but the sentiment settles deep inside of you.

His smile is open, like the sun parting from the clouds, the first warmth after winter when the air is sweet with spring. He tries to lighten the mood; you think in a better situation, you would really adore Sam. But, as it stands, anxiety and pressure have built to a buzzing, awful cacophony inside of you. It festers and you force it down, keep it in.

You only hope to see that better situation some day.

Natasha is showering, washing away the dirt and the grime of the explosion. Sam is in the kitchen. Steve is in a spare bedroom, sitting at the edge of the bed, head in his dirtied hands. In this moment of stillness, you can see the stress that has settled upon him, heavy and unbearable; Atlas and his broad shoulders, now so weary and tired.

You approach quietly and he only notices when you stand directly in front of him, your boots at the edge of his vision. He lifts his eyes to you, finds your face, and holds your gaze with a raw honesty that you almost try to hide from. You force yourself to hold his eyes, even if you can feel your heart collapse inward slowly, weakening and softening for the man beneath you.

He lets out a slow breath, easing his bent back straight, rolling his shoulders back. He still looks up at you.

“This is a new look for you,” He manages to say, voice soft and rough, a touch of resentment in the undertones, perhaps. Your heart squeezes painfully inside of your chest.

Don’t hate me, you plead.

You tilt your head, worry your bottom lip, and let out a slowly gathered breath before admitting, “It’s actually very old.”

“Is it?” Steve says too lightly, a hint of bitterness, his eyes flashing, “I suppose I would never know, would I?”

“Steve,” You warn, breaking his gaze, turning your face from his scrutiny. You shift to cross your arms across your chest, close yourself off and hide from him but he reaches out, snags your wrist with a roughness you aren’t prepared for. He forces you open with his strength.

Your eyes cut back to him, simmering, meeting his fiery blue; like the too-hot, too-bright part of a flame.

“Why have you always forced me away?” He hisses, squeezing, pulling you closer.

“Let go,” You bite back, giving a half-hearted tug of your wrist.

“No,” He snaps back, teeth bared and a little vicious, “Answer me.”

“Because I had to!”

Your breathing comes in quick now, labored and making your heart clench hard.

And now you tug again at your wrist, leaning into the enhanced strength you have not used in years, and break free of him with a force he didn’t know you possessed.

“For your safety! For my safety! For--”

For Bucky’s safety.

The words get caught in your throat, lodged deep and you almost choke, gut wrenching horribly and for a sick flash, you believe you might throw up. All of those secrets will have poisoned you, you think, made you ill and toxic and nuclear.

Your face crumples, eyes guttering, suddenly filling with bitter, frustrated tears that you have held down for far too long. As if they’ve been unearthed from the depths of your soul, suddenly springing forth, they fall down your cheeks, cutting tracks down that drip onto your chin and onto your chest.

Immediately, Steve softens; he wanted in, desperately wanted to split you open and see what laid beneath and here, here he’s finally gotten it. You want to be angry with him, but you also know you’ve lied through your teeth, hidden yourself when all he has ever wanted was to unfurl you, soften the edges, take care of you.

He has only ever tried to give you peace.

His hands reach for your waist, grasp around you and pull you forward, into his lap. You fall easily, down, down into broad, warm arms that are safe and secure.

“Let it out,” He murmurs, crushing you to his chest, tucking you close and bundling you in his arms. He cradles you, your hands squabbling in his shirt, on his shoulders. Your face presses to his neck, legs dangling over his thighs as you finally break beneath all of the pressure.

“I wanted to tell you--” You cry, your knuckles tightening on him, “So badly.” You get out, half choking. “But it’s me versus an empire and I can’t--”

“I would’ve helped you,” Steve insists, “We could’ve helped you.”

But he doesn’t understand and he won’t until he sees the full, brutal picture of it all. Until he understands where you were unmade and what brought you here, to this very moment. He won’t understand until he knows about your sister, about the way in which you met Bucky, all that you’d lost or never had. All those that had tried to sink their hands into you, mold you, make you, control you. It had been all you’d known for so long, until your world had been rocked, shaken so thoroughly by the death of your sister and the emergence of your new life with Pierce. By the way in which Bucky had settled himself into your heart as if he’d belonged there all along.

The way Steve had slipped into your heart, as gently as the falling snow had been the night you’d met him.

You shake your head, jerky movement, damp cheek pressed to the skin of his neck. “You don’t understand,” You tremble, voice shaking, “There’s so much more, Steve.”

“Then tell me,” He insists, as he always has, squeezing you, hand cradling your skull, fingers tangling in your hair. “Tell me, sweetheart, please.”

You pull away from him slightly, look into his face, so deeply concerned and vulnerable. Your fingers touch his cheek, trace the line of his face as you look up at him hopelessly. “I don’t have time now.” You whisper, tears still slipping from your eyes. “After all of this,” Your fingers drifts to the line of his jaw, “I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Steve’s eyes flicker over your face, searching and seeking for something in your expression. When he finds whatever he is looking for in the depth of your eyes, his face softens, “Okay.” He agrees softly, pressing his forehead to yours, “Okay.”

“Just,” You swallow, choke back another quiet sob, body tensing as you swallow it down and hold it back, “Just don’t hate me, when you find out.” And you shut your eyes to his gaze, another gush of warm tears cutting down your cheeks.

His fingers flex in your hair, tightening a fraction, “I could never,” He says so quietly that you fear you have misheard him, the warm, soft press of his lips suddenly at the corner of your mouth. “I could never hate you.” He murmurs and you haven’t opened your eyes to him, to the gentleness and care you will no doubt find in his face if you do. But his lips pass over yours, reverent, and you should push him away but you’re boneless, pliant in his arms as his lips slant over yours.

It’s a delicate kiss, but open-mouthed and yielding. You shouldn’t, but you allow yourself a moment to be kissed by him. To kiss him back and feel the slight brush of his tongue to yours, the pass of his lips against you. You shouldn’t, but you arch up, press closer, kiss back. A broken, desperate noise comes from Steve, his hands still cradling you, holding you close.

Faintly, you hear the shower turn off, the sudden quietness that fills and swallows up the room. It’s all you need to find the strength to pull away from him, to suddenly twist and squirm away, shifting to stand back up onto shaking legs. You turn away from him, from the bathroom door, and there is a question on his lips before he hears the creak of the door.

You wipe your tears, swipe at your lips, and when you turn back around to face Natasha and Steve, your mask is solidly back in place.

Steve marvels at you a moment, at the jarring transition. Moments ago you were in his arms, tear stained and fragmented. Now you are seemingly whole again, but your eyes are still red-rimmed, lips kiss stung but your face is neutral and impassive.

Natasha is changed, toweling off her damp hair. She flicks her eyes over you, over the catsuit, “I haven’t seen you like this in awhile.” Her head tilts slightly, “Little Vorobey.” She half purrs, forcing you to squirm under her gaze.

Steve’s eyes shift between you two, before settling onto you curiously. He asks, “What does it mean?”

“It was what they called her.” Natasha says before you can answer, “And they called her sister the Stervyatnik.”

Your eyes burn into Natasha, unused to speaking so openly about such a removed and distant part of your life, feeling suddenly exposed. She seems unaffected by your gaze.

You swallow, “It means Sparrow,” You tell Steve quietly, “And my sister was Vulture.”

“You have a sister?” Steve asks, gently probing, the beginnings to a long, long conversation.

Your head pulses with a dull ache.

“Had.” You say quietly, “I had a sister.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, shrugging his sympathy off and rolling your shoulders back. You tuck the memory of your sister back, deep into the burrows of your mind. Lock her tight to your chest. Perhaps another day you will tell Steve all about her but now is not the time.

“I need to be leaving soon.” You announce, eyes flickering between the pair, “I’m glad you’re both okay.” You say with earnest, suddenly reaching out and snagging Natasha by the arm.

“You’re getting soft,” Natasha says with a curl of her lips, cat-like and sly, and you surprise her by pulling her into a hug.

She is still and unmoving for a moment, before tightening her arms around you, too, tucking her face into the crook of your neck and exhaling.

And it reminds you of another time, another flicker of your life, being tangled limbs and lipstick stains with her against satin sheets in foreign countries. Or bloodied hands and pistols against hips, knives tucked on the inside of smooth thighs. You’d both been so cold then, so distant and strange and hard. Sleepwalking girls, puppets on strings, digging fingers into each other’s skin in an attempt to find something they couldn’t control of you both.

“One of us has to, Tasha.” You mumble and you can feel her smile against your neck, despite her seemingly neutral expression when you both pull away from one another.

You let out a slow breath, just as Steve stands, and you move to him, too. You rise up onto your toes, hand balancing on his chest, and press your lips to his cheek. His eyes soften, dip into a half-lidded position.

You glance up to him, a breath caught between the two of you, a flood of unsaid words that hides, trapped, and pressurized behind a dam. For now, you hold it there, for now you push against the tide. For a heartbeat, you fear he may kiss you again, so you step away.

“Jasper Sitwell is having a meeting with Secretary Stern later today, around three in the afternoon.” You inform both of them, and they cock their heads, narrow their eyes, but take the intel silently and gratefully. They aren’t quite sure why you’ve said it yet, but you trust them to figure it out.

“Stay safe. I’ll see you as soon as I can again.” You promise.

“You, too.” Steve murmurs, taking a longing, last glance at you, as if he’s committing you to memory, before he retreats into the bathroom now. He leaves you and Natasha to each other and the quietness of the room.

The moment you hear the water of the sink, you find Natasha’s light eyes, a renewed urgency to you as you hiss, “They’re sending him after you all.”

She doesn’t pretend to play dumb. You watch as she straightens, seizes into tenseness, face suddenly paling. She knows you mean the Winter Soldier. She swallows, opens her mouth, but then closes it.

“I’m going to try and force Pierce to take you all captive; he won’t execute Captain America with the public watching. The moment they give him the command, I’m going to call in news sources to broadcast it. Just stay alive.” Then you inhale shakily, “And, try-- try not to kill him, either.”

Natasha’s eyes dart to you, scrutinizing. Your eyes turn pleading and you can’t find it in yourself to care; not when it comes to Bucky and his life. You’d beg, right down on your hands and knees, if it was what she wanted. When she doesn’t respond, you press, “Please, Natasha,” Voice wavering, “For me?”

She finally softens slightly, her own stuttering exhale, “I don’t think I could if I tried.”

Faintly, you recall their own shared, distant history. You aren’t sure if she means physically, or emotionally and you don’t care. It’s enough.

You nod, a slight dip of your chin, “Thank you.” You whisper and turn to leave.

When you catch Sam in the kitchen, he turns to you. “It was good to meet you,” You tell him despite it all; another piece of you is infinitely grateful for the largeness of his heart and loyalty. You wish you could express this to him, thank him for keeping two of the most important people in your life safe, without faltering, without question. You marvel at the quickness to which you now want to include him in that circle, too. Perhaps in time.

And he gives you the warmest smile, as if you are an old friend, “You, too.” He leans against the kitchen counter smoothly, eyes glittering in the morning light, “I just wish it was under different circumstances.”

You nod, “Well,” And you find his eyes with your own shimmering eyes, “Hopefully I’ll meet you again under better times.”

“I hope so, too.” He tells you sincerely before you duck out his front door and into the peach and pink of dawn. The chill of morning clears your head, touches your newly dried cheeks, and for a moment, you feel the freshness after a thorough crying, the newness of your heart.

You set your jaw. You have to find Maria Hill.

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Thankfully, she’s been trying to find you, too, and the moment you step into SHIELD headquarters again, she is snagging you with a pinching grip to your elbow. She falls into step beside you casually, as if there is still a rouse and there is, in some way.

Not everyone is aware it is HYDRA in control. But you are certain she knows now.

“Come with me,” She tells you, quietly, out of the corner of her mouth. Before then saying casually and more loudly, “I need clarification on some of the papers Pierce sent over.”

You nod and follow her lead. When she’s certain eyes are not on you, when you’re blended in with others, in the blind spot of cameras, she leads you out to a parking garage and you follow her into her own sleek, black, stealth vehicle without another word.

You don’t ask where she is taking you until the city bleeds out and you are surrounded by towering trees and forest life.

“A secure facility with only those we can trust.” She responds simply and again, you are struck by this we. You eye her, but keep quiet for the rest of your journey, certain she will only beginning speaking of plans and schemes once safely inside.

Once there, she leads you in and deep into the belly of this grand place, down into darkness, past absurd amounts of security and locks that you aren’t even sure are at the SHIELD headquarters.

But what the final door finally reveals is a ghost, lying prone in a hospital bed.

Nick Fury stares back at you.

You are almost surprised.

More shockingly, though, your lips curl into a wide smile, and you find you’ve never been happier to see him than now. Leave it to Nick, you think wryly, to cheat death, get out of the grips of Pierce and stow away.

His lips lift up into the slightest of smiles, too. “Thank you for the warning.” He says genuinely.

You bow your head slightly, a little marveled and humbled by him, “Of course.” You tell him, suddenly wish it’d been him who’d found you, the way he’d found Natasha. It could’ve been him who’d taken you and given you a purpose of security and the protection of people. But instead, you received the other side of the coin. The fates had not been so kind.

But you’re trying to change that now, you assure yourself, pushing and fighting against whatever destiny had been originally given to you.

“We need your help.” Fury says then, trying to ease himself up slightly, but he’s too battered, too broken to move that far. Maria goes to his side, but he waves her off. “What are your plans? Since I know you have them.”

You blink, unused to someone being aware of your capabilities in such a way. You have always been hidden behind Pierce and an unassuming smile, behind all of your secrets. But Fury looks straight through you now, with his single, burning eye.

“Pierce has sent the Winter Soldier after Steve and by default, Natasha, and now Sam Wilson, I’m afraid.” You respond, “The moment the order is given, I am going to call in news sources in hopes of gaining mass public attention. Pierce will not give a kill order to Captain America while the country watches.” You let out a breath, “I hope for their arrest. I’ve already warned Natasha of this.”

“From there?” Maria presses, scrutinizing you.

“Eventually, free them, before they are killed.”

“We want them here.” Fury responds, “So we can form a plan to stop Project Insight. You have a plan for that?”

You suck your teeth for a moment, a pause, “I do.”

Fury’s brows hitch up, expecting, awaiting.

“When the helicarriers were being built, I studied their mechanics to find a way to destroy it. As you know, they have a targeting chip that they will use to pin and lock onto targets. I crafted three, separate targeting chips that would instead target the helicarriers themselves, destroying them, once I swapped them out before they took to the skies.”

Maria’s lips fall open slightly, perhaps in awe.

Fury’s eye crinkles, almost in amusement, or pride, or the barest hint of wonder.

“Where are these chips?” He asks.

“Buried behind my sister’s gravestone since 2013.”

And this time Fury’s face splits into a grin and he whistles lowly. “You’ve been at this since 2013?”

“2011, actually. The moment the files of Project Insight were placed in front of me.” You answer honestly, freely, feeling lighter, as if you are letting go of baggage. Slowly, you are shaking off secrets, like brushing snow away as spring begins to warm the earth. Change is around the bend, so close you can almost taste it.

“Can you get Rogers, Romanoff, and Wilson here?” Fury then presses, “So we can get them to swap out the targeting chips?”

You wrack your brain for a plan that would allow that without Pierce’s suspicion, while also keeping Bucky safe. “I don’t--”

“Can you get me a uniform that one of the STRIKE teams will use when they arrest them?” Maria suddenly speaks up, turning to look at you.

You tilt your head, as if you can see her own plan forming and shaping in her mind. It’s clever, a little risky, but it might just work--

“I can do that.” You assure her, forcing yourself to be able to. You don’t know how yet, but you’ll make sure she does if it will guarantee their safety.

“Then I’ll take care of the rest.” She returns, holding your eyes, simple and straightforward, honest for you to see her intentions.

You think you like Maria Hill.

“Give us the location of the targeting chips, and we’ll take care of those, too, while you keep Pierce distracted and unaware.” Fury then says, “How soon can you rendezvous with us again?”

“I’m not sure.” You answer truthfully, “With the sudden move in the date of the launch of these helicarriers, Pierce will want me by his side.” You tilt your chin up, “But I will go with whatever plans end up enfolding, so long as the people I care about are safe and the helicarriers end up destroyed.”

Fury’s eye pins you for a moment, studying you, assessing you once more. “You know we’re really trusting you with this.” He says slowly.

“With all due respect, Director Fury, but I’m also really trusting you, too.” You respond and watch as his face shifts slightly, easing, accepting your answer.

And with that, you tell him the location of your sister’s grave; a place only you have known since she was buried.

You allow them to unearth all that you have concealed for the last several years and hope it sets you free, in some way.

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

Another secret unravels the same way a stitch can when pulled correctly.

Steve knows that Bucky is the Winter Soldier.

You’d been with Pierce when the fight had taken place, carefully having tipped the news broadcasters to the fight until the circled with helicopters and too-bold photographers, forcing Pierce’s hand.

“Take them alive if there’s people watching.” He’d growled at Rumlow, dragging an irritated hand through his hair, “We’ll deal with them in private.”

And Rumlow had scampered off to finish this fight, to take them into custody.

You’d gotten Maria Hill the uniform she’d requested, viciously hoped that she pulled off her own plan of smuggling them out. The moment they had Steve, Natasha, and Sam in handcuffs, Pierce was ordering you to come with him.

“You know the Asset better than I do.” Pierce begins as you follow after him, knowing he is leading you to where they hold Bucky. “Are you concerned at all with his connection to Rogers and the use of his name?”

You’re almost taken back; perhaps by the acknowledgement that you know Bucky better, or perhaps for his concern that his brainwashing has not fully sank into Bucky. In fact, you worry deeply about this; you have since the moment Rumlow had called him in. You knew it was inevitable, in some ways, but now you worry for Bucky’s safety in the hands of men like Pierce.

“I’ve never experienced any severe lapse in him that his trigger words have not taken care of.” You lie, precious pearled truth hidden behind your teeth like a treasure.

Pierce grunts in responds, descending down with you, into the pits of this jail, of this hell that makes you ill to walk into. Rumlow catches up and trails behind you, giving you a half smirk upon seeing you. You force back a frown.

You keep pace with Pierce’s brisk walk, even in your heels that you’d changed into, back to the pretty assistant with a pale blue blouse.

You’re both greeted with a man at the door, “Sir, h-he’s unstable. Erratic.” He tries to get out and immediately, your heart drops fast and hard. You try to keep your breathing even. Pierce bulls through the door though, not even glancing at the man.

You swallow as you see all the guns pointed at Bucky, where he sits, lifeless and bleary, bare and with his arm gleaming beneath the lights that are too harsh on him.

You suddenly wish to shield him, stand in front of him and growl at the others to get away. But you force yourself to still, to try to remain neutral as Pierce lifts his hands and signals for them to all put their guns down. He stands in front of him.

“Mission report.” Pierce commands. Bucky doesn’t even flinch and you wish he’d just comply, just comply and spare himself. “Mission report now.” Pierce barks, his nerves fraying.

Bucky stares, lifeless and lost, with watery eyes.

Please, you silently beg him, please speak.

Pierce inches closer, studying Bucky’s face too closely and you want to shove him away, tear into him, bristling at the way Pierce looks at him.

The slap is sudden and jarring and you gasp as if he’s struck you. Bucky’s head whips to the side and without thinking, you stutter a step forward, as if you’d go to him and you want to-- you want to.

You think about killing Pierce, think about taking the knife strapped to your thigh and slitting the vulnerable artery of his neck. Then cupping Bucky’s stung cheek with bloodied hands, promising freedom from this wretched place and these monsters.

“There was a man on the bridge,” Bucky finally speaks and you have to keep your face from crumpling at the sound of his voice, so lost and foreign and gravely. “Who was he?”

You could cry because you know already, he has made a severe mistake by revealing the truth of his surfacing. You wish he would play dumb, spew a mission report but his poor, helpless brain is so fucking scrambled and you’re not sure if you’ve made it worse or better over the years by trying to get him to remember--

“You met him earlier this week on another assignment.” Pierce responds.

Bucky shifts, his eyes suddenly darting out, finding you, pinning you like a butterfly to a board. “I knew him.” He tells you and you force a breath in and out slowly because you think yes, you do know him. And I know him. You loved him once and I love him now--

Your chest cleaves with the look in Pierce’s eyes, the way he glances to you, then back to Bucky before slowly taking a seat in front of him, so they are eye level. Bucky bows slightly, shoulders collapsing inwards as he looks away.

“Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time.” Pierce presses, assuring him of his goodness, tricking him because you think Bucky was probably too good, as golden as Steve, so they had to tell him he was doing something valiant and good.

You feel like you’re going to be sick, stomach suddenly jolting horribly.

“Society’s at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we’re going to give it a push. But if you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine. And HYDRA can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.” Pierce tells him, unnervingly calm.

Bucky’s face shifts, brows pulling together and he looks so fucking hopeless, adrift and trying to hold onto anything tangible and constant. So he looks at you when he says;

“But I knew him.”

It is your undoing.

The simple, clear ache, the knife in the chest. And you’re an open, frayed nerve, heart spasming painfully and head swimming with the recent reminders of your dead, dead sister and the pain of the serum they’d forced in you and every time you’ve watched them torture and strip Bucky bare and raw. The broken look in Steve’s eyes when he’d realized nothing was what it seemed, and Natasha’s split mask revealing her own turmoil before she’d hugged you too tightly over Nick Fury’s battered body.

You are a series of anguished moments, seeped in darkness and dismal, nothing outlooks that had forced your sister into a ghost. Forced you into submission. Forced Bucky into a weapon.

“Prep him.”

Pierce’s voice cuts through the room and you whip your head to him. He doesn’t even glance at you.

You swallow down your scream.

“He’s been out of cryo freeze for too long.” A man shakily warns.

“Then wipe him and start over.” Pierce says and your face goes slack, mouth parting before you can stop it.

It is not the first time you have seen this but for some reason, it feels like the worst with the way Bucky’s face crumples, eyes seeking you as if you could stop it. As if you could help him. You want to turn away, but know that he needs you now more than ever so you give him your eyes.

Be strong, you plead to him and his gaze hold yours until they can’t any more.

They force him back in the chair, slipping the mouth guard in and he is too obedient. The cuffs lock around his arms to hold him down and he seizes up, chest suddenly heaving because he knows what’s coming and you know what’s coming.

Rumlow is watching with a morbid curiosity and you think of clawing his eyes out with bare hands, fingernails digging deep until he cries--

The machine whirs to life and you watch in horror as it stutters to settle around his head, heating up into an electric current. Bucky exhales a whimper, just before it clamps down tight onto him and he jolts as the sound of sizzling and sparking zips around the room.

He screams. And screams. And screams.

You watch because you have to. Pierce leaves and you don’t follow. Rumlow leaves and you don’t follow. You wait until it is just you and the scientists that have tortured him for too long and Bucky is slack and blank faced in the chair.

“Leave,” You snap at them and when they don’t move fast enough, you grip the knife from your thigh holster and fling it across the room, letting it slice against the cheek of one and he startles, yelping. “Now.” You snarl and they stare in awe for a moment and you wish you could’ve sunken it into his skull. They scamper out quickly, until you are left with Bucky and the cold metal of the room.

You go to him and release his cuffs, his body suddenly slumping forward so you catch him, easing him so that his head lays against your chest, cradle him there beside your heart.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, so no one but him can hear but you don’t even think he can hear you, either. “I’m sorry.” You whimper, carding your hands through his hair and keeping him tight to you. “This is the last time,” You cry, tears dripping down onto the crown of his head. “I promise,” You sob, rocking him slow and soft. “I promise.”

You wail, howling quietly into the cavernous jaws of metal that surround you. For you and your losses. For him and his. You don’t care who hears you. You don’t care who sees you as you take care of him as if he is the only thing precious in this world.

Because by tomorrow morning, you will disappear with him; far, far from wretched monsters who have done this to him.

“We’re so close,” You tell him, lifting his face to yours but there is nothing there, blue eyes dim and pale and gone. He is a shell. Your lip wobbles, tears spilling down your cheeks and dripping onto his.

“It’s almost the end.” You murmur brokenly, fingers digging into the skin of his jaw desperately.

“It’s almost the end.” You vow, begging for that hopeful ending, those better circumstances that you have fought so awfully for since October 12th, 2011.

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