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myfictionaldreams · 6 months

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Day 24: Role Reversal - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe, so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome (f/m/m), protective, arguing, dom/sub, switch, praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), restraints, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, creampie, rough sex

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It was a highly anticipated meeting. Tension was so thick in the office that all weapons were in hands, shoulders rolled back, and eyes glared in all directions, monitoring every little movement.

This had been happening for hours, and you were split between falling asleep or losing your patience and leaving. It wasn’t like you to be in these kinds of moods either. Usually, at the start of the meeting, you’d be a trembling, anxious mess and wish to leave because the tension was too much, knowing it would end in violence or shouting. However, today, you were not in the mood for an entirely different reason; knowing who was coming to the meeting already had your blood boiling.

A gentle nudge of your foot drew your attention to the man sitting opposite you. Bucky smiled from across the table, nodding slightly to check in and make sure you were okay, which you gave him a reassuring nod and smile in return. Steve sat between you both at the head of the table, where he naturally deserved to sit, considering he was the gang's leader. Your eyes flicked to the blonde, admiring the natural look of authority that he held, his eyes staring daggers at the man opposite him, and the muscles of his shoulders bulging in the white shirt that was decorated with various harnesses to display the weapons that he knew how to use expertly, intimidating the guest.

Even though he looked dangerous, the hand holding yours on his lap was so soothing and tender that it almost made you break the facade and smile. Steve had prioritised holding your hand, hoping the touch would calm your nerves, which it did. His fingers were rough from his training and littered with various scars from his years of dangerous work, but it was familiar to you as you mixed between playing with his fingers and his reassuringly squeezing your palm. He’d even refused to shake the other man’s hand when he entered the meeting to continue to hold yours, even though it further infuriated the man who commented how unprofessional it was not to shake an opponent's hand.

Baron Strucker was as boisterous and aggravated as they come. Hot-headed and preferred to shout rather than talk as he demanded his shares of the Rogers mafia, claiming that some of the equipment he’d bought was now being sold on the black market by Steve’s gang without the financial profit being shared. The two guards that had arrived with Baron were just as aggressive, weapons out, standing tall and looking ready to fight the numerous people in the room.

As angry as Steve was beneath the skin, he remained calm, choosing not to lose his level-headed thinking and stay in control of the situation, proving his superiority as a leader over Baron. Bucky, his right-hand man, was similar with his calmness, but with the muscle ticking in his jaw, you knew he was struggling to remain in his seat, especially the tone that was being used towards his boss, boyfriend and best friend Steve, he was slowly losing his patience.

During these moments with the gang, you were truly reminded of just how dangerous they both were and the line of work they both were involved in and now, so were you. It was hard to compare the men you’d woken up to this morning, adoring and making your life wholly fulfilled with love and affection, were the same that were probably contemplating murdering the man across the table.

You were squeezing Steve’s hand as you reminisced about the morning, using the moment to distract from the shouting in the room that you were now blankly staring at. Steve returned the affection but dragged the pad of his thumb against the back of your hand, which helped to settle the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Someone shifting their weight behind you also caught your attention, reminding you that Sam Wilson, your best friend and bodyguard, was standing behind your chair. You were surrounded by protection as to your right sat Natasha, her eyes unblinking as she stared viciously at the enemy, her fingers twitching in her lap to throw the knife strapped to her leg.

“We had a deal. I’ve held my end of it, give you everything I have, and I’ve had nothing from you! How the fuck is that fair? That’s not what I signed up for”. Baron’s shout rang in your ears, causing you to close your eyes to try not to flinch from the piercing sound.

Steve leaned forward in his chair, calm yet authoritative as ever, as the room watched him closely. With a lot of restraint, he began to list all the ways in which the Rogers mafia has provided Stucker with their ends of the deal with financial benefits, customers and more.

You pondered over everything Steve was stating, but he failed to mention one thing that you had contemplated and something that Baron had just so happened not to talk about either. Your eyes flicked between Bucky and Steve to see if they might have remembered it, possibly hinting that you had something to say without cutting off Steve, but neither looked in your direction for once. You thought about speaking up, but everyone's attention on you had your insides twisting with sickness.

They were hyper-focused on the pacing man at the other end of the table, who was more furious with each passing second. The longer Baron Strucker ranted, not taking any accountability and blaming everything on Steve, the more your blood began to boil. Your face and chest warmed, eyebrows furrowing as your jaw clenched with as much fiercness as Bucky’s. You wanted to scream in his face, shake him for missing out on the crucial detail that he seemed to be dancing around, and you couldn’t take it anymore, the anger giving you the confidence and anger to intervene in his shouts finally.

“You’re thieves! A scam of a gang. I don’t understand how you’ve managed to reach the level of fame that you have here in Brooklyn. You’re all going down the drain. No one is going to trust you again because as soon as I get out of this office, I’m going to tell everyone what a bunch of shit you all are-”

“What about your container of goods by the coast?” Your voice was firm and louder than you’d expected it to be. You were so riled up that you’d removed your hand from Steve’s, needing to clench your fists in your lap as you stared at the man without fear, even though you could feel everyone’s eyes now on you.

“What?” Strucker snaps his head towards you like he had forgotten you were in the room. His beady little eyes devoured your body as if he was sizing you up. Still, with a simple scoff, you knew he deemed you no threat. The look had Steve and Bucky adjusting in their seats and the other gang members in the room who prepared their stances to match those of their leader, Steve and his second-in-command.

For once, you were braced, not letting his scoff throw your confidence. “The shipment by the coast? You’ve not mentioned it, and wasn’t that the whole reason for this deal in the first place? Why haven’t you discussed it today? What happened to the goods you were supposed to provide us with?”

Baron stopped midstep, swallowing thickly, giving himself a second to adjust his frame before the aggression came back, directing it towards you instead as he pointed his meaty finger in your direction. “I see your little game, trying to change the subject from your mistakes. I’m not falling for it, and you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. This good-for-nothing gang-”

“No!” you once more cut off his rambling, “I think it’s you who is changing the subject. Answer me now: where are the goods?” Your eyes were burning with how hard you were staring at him, with all your spite and anger, a slight tremor settling in your body as you struggled to keep your emotions to a minimum.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that!”

It was your turn to scoff at the atrocities coming out of Baron’s mouth as you began to calm your voice so that you weren’t shouting and instead reigned in the power of authority. “Yes, I do. I am as high up in this gang as Bucky. You’re in my building with my gang. I can speak to you however the fuck I like. Now, answer my question or get the fuck out. Where is this shipment?”

His silence was your answer enough, so you decided to put the final nail in his coffin. “So you’ve sold them to someone else, and you think you can come here and threaten us? You’re lucky you aren’t dead right now, so here’s what will happen. You’ll collect your dirt shit friends here, turn around and walk out of this building. And you know what? I’ll throw you a bone, we won’t say a word about your failed partnership, but if we hear even a whisper that you’ve talked shit about my gang, there will be nowhere you can hide on this planet that’ll stop us from getting to you and everyone you love. Now get the fuck out!”

You don’t look away from him, you don’t back down, you continue to hold his gaze and watch as he opens his mouth repeatedly like a fish, and when he looks like he’s found his words, they’re swiftly cut off as the woman next to you was out of her seat in a blink of an eye, holding her knife to his neck. “You heard the boss; it’s time for you to go”, Natasha instructs with her silky voice.

His mouth shuts as he backs away, still glaring but not having the guts to say what he wants as the other crew members follow him out. A few of the Rogers mafia escorted them out of the property.

Sam speaks first as he rests his hands on your shoulders, still taunted with tension. “Please mind my language when I say, holy fucking shit. I didn’t think you had it in you, Boss Lady; that was badass!”

Finally releasing the pent-up energy, you shout in rage, rubbing your hands down your face before pushing the chair back, thankful that Sam quickly stepped out of your way as you began to do your pacing. “He’s such an asshole! I don’t even know why we agreed to do any sort of work with him in the first place!” Your red stiletto heels click against the floor dramatically as you try to shake your hands to dispel the anger still raging inside your body.

From the corner of your eye, you saw that Steve silently nodded his head towards the door, indicating for everyone else to leave, which they did without hesitation, leaving you, Steve and Bucky alone.

The brunette was the first to stand, the clip of his expensive shoes just as loud on the ceramic flooring as Bucky unbuttons his suit jacket. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, Hot Mama”.

You stop walking abruptly, turning to him with a quizzical look, but your eyes are drawn to the evidence of his obvious arousal, the thick outline of his erection down his left pant leg. Your body is warming for a different reason now; as you state, “I have so much energy right now, I feel like I could run a marathon. I understand why you both fuck so hard when you’re in a mood”.

Bucky’s knowing smirk captures your attention now, the heat spiking in your core with a noticeable throb. Steve stands, his chair scrapping along the floor with his sudden movement.

Steve’s looking at you the same way Bucky is. As if they knew you were thinking something you weren’t entirely sure what, as the only thing on your mind right now was getting rid of the pent-up energy you held whilst also trying not to slip into the submissive ways that you always did, especially seeing how turned on both your boyfriends were from seeing you in this dominant, headstrong persona.

Steve stands tall, his hands lazily in his pockets as he admires you slowly up and down with his crystal blue eyes. “We tell you all the time to use us, so use us. Get that energy out. Tell us what you want us to do. If it’s going for a run, we can do that. If you want a hard fuck, you know we can do that too.”

No amount of money would make you pick going for a run right now as you stared between Steve and Bucky. Two powerful men, ready to do whatever you wished so you rolled your shoulders back, straightened your posture and demanded, “Strip. Take off your clothes”.

Bucky bites his lips seductively as he prepares to slowly remove his clothes, beginning with his jacket and the endless weapons attached to himself. Steve, on the other hand, started by removing his black tie, which you promptly held your hand out for, deciding you could use this later.

Watching them both doing exactly as you’d instructed was exhilarating, even if it was a simple act. Only moments ago, the room was full of influential people, a fight potentially about to begin, and now you’re watching each beautiful body part of two of the most dangerous men in Brooklyn strip naked.

You were hardly breathing by the time they stood before you, their impressive bodies on display as they waited for their next instructions with their hands behind their backs and cocks proudly hard. You couldn’t help yourself as you touched the tip of Steve’s and admired how it throbbed as his abs flexed and he tensed.

“Did it really make you that turned on to see me like that?” you asked, needing to hear him say it.

Steve’s eyes admired you with a tantalizingly slow look up and down, “You have no fucking idea”.

Even though your insides seemed to somersault with excitement, you tried to remain in control of the situation. Holding up the black tie in front of Bucky, you asked him, “Tie up Steve’s hands behind his back and make sure that he can’t get out”.

Bucky did as instructed without questioning and worked his magic, ensuring the knot was secure enough that Steve wouldn’t be able to easily wriggle out of the restraint unless he ripped the material in half. Seeing Steve standing there, with his arms behind his back and both following instructions to perfection, made you feel powerful.

Your eyes observed Bucky, who had stood next to Steve, waiting patiently for whatever you had to say. “Can I trust you to keep your hands behind your back?” Bucky grins, showing his straight teeth as he nods his head in answer, moving his hands behind his back and circling the metal fingers around his flesh wrist, keeping it locked in place.

“Good boy”, you say without thinking and wishing to praise him in some way and to your delight, his cock visibly throbbed as the Adam’s apple of his throat bobbed with his moan. The corner of your lip tilted upwards with excitement at this fact as you stepped towards him, stroking the tips of your fingers down his firm chest. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

“I think I do”, he responds with an edge of gruffness to his voice, like the arousal coursing through him had affected him so much already.

There were so many things that you could do with both of them right now. The first that came to mind was dropping to your knees and servicing them both, but you were enjoying the power too much and seeing the lust in their eyes; you were ready to use this to your advantage.

Taking a step away from them both, you crept over to the seat at the head of the table, trying to use the confidence to glide through your body still and maintain the dominant persona, at least for as long as you could. You eyed up Steve’s seat, easing it away from the table before sitting in it and spreading your legs so the dress hiked up your thighs until they both had a view of naked cunt, for once thankful you’d gone without any underwear today. “Well, why don’t you both be good boys and come and eat me out?”.

With impressive speed, Steve and Bucky were dropping to their knees in front of the seat, the colour of their eyes impressively darkened with hunger, tongues wetting their lips in anticipation. Gripping the back of your thighs, your legs spread wider for them, trying to make room for both of their faces.

It was difficult with the lack of space and their hulking shoulders shoving against each other so they could both have their feast. This only made you feel more powerful, to see them quietly arguing with each other to try and pleasure you, which only made their licks and sucks more enthusiastic. They were sloppy, saliva and pussy juice coating their faces and your thighs as they each tried to push their tongues into your cunt. Everything was warm, wet and pleasurable, especially as Steve lapped at your clit as Bucky tongued your hole.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off them, hungry for both of them, knowing that you could ask for possibly anything and they would be willing to do it, even in the middle of the office. Having both of them on you simultaneously was also very overstimulating, as they seemed to be touching you everywhere at the same time. You were clenching and withering beneath them before you could even think to moan either of Steve or Bucky’s names, the orgasm stealing your breath away.

Steve sucked as Bucky licked through your orgasm until you had to release the bruising grip on your thigh so that you could close your legs, pushing them back. Trying to catch your breath, you stared between them. Both their handsome faces were flushed, chins and cheeks drenched and glistening, eyes glazed with hunger and arousal, still sitting on their knees with hands behind their backs.

You were surprised they’d not yet freed their restrained hands and taken over. The two of them were dominant down to their very bones, so for them to not switch things around and bend you over the table and fuck you until you’d orgasmed multiple times, it was a surprise they were still going along with you being in control.

“Bucky”, standing from your chair, you cupped the chin of the boyfriend you’re addressing, “sit in this chair”. He does as instructed as you walk behind him and the chair, your fingers massaging his shoulders and chest as you dip to kiss the column of his neck. Looking over your body, you admired the thick cock that was begging to be touched, and then there was Steve, who also was admiring Bucky’s dick.

“You’ve both been so good for me, following my instructions. Here’s what is going to happen. I want Stevie to suck Bucky off until I tell him to stop. Does that sound good with you, Buckaroo?”

The face you were kissing nodded quickly and enthusiastically. Bucky’s eyes were wide with anticipation and awe as he watched his boss and superior, especially in the workplace, on his knees and ready to pleasure him.

Bucky sucks in a deep breath through his nose as Steve begins to lick up his shaft, holding intense eye contact before taking him fully into his mouth.

You walk around the two of them, making sure your heels are unnecessarily loud with the steps so they are aware of where you are at all times; even when Bucky’s eyes are closed, his head turns ever so slightly with your actions, like he was monitoring where you were.

Every so often, you’d run your fingers over their shoulders or through their hair. The touches caused shivers to run through their beefy bodies, and you tried not to grin at the little reactions you could easily pull from them.

“Doing so good, Steve, I can tell Bucky’s getting close. Keep going. I don’t think I’m ready for you to stop just yet”.

“Ah, fuck!” Bucky grunted, hips thrusting up as his head tipped back, falling into the depths of his pleasure and the skills of Steve’s beautiful mouth.

Only when you could see Bucky’s breaths coming fast, his mouth dropping open with no restraints for his moans, did you decide to intervene, knowing he was close to cumming. Scraping your nails through Steve’s hair, you grabbed a hand full and tugged, forcing Steve’s mouth off the cock.

Bucky whimpered from the loss of the tongue and sucking. “Now, now, Bucky. You’ve had your share, don’t be so selfish.” Lowering your mouth to Steve’s ear, you whispered, “Sit back, Steve”.

With an easy roll, Steve is sitting on his arse on the cold floor, and you are instantly on him, straddling over his thick thighs, hands cupping his cheeks and kissing him hungrily. You moaned at the taste of Bucky’s cock on his lips and the noise of Steve’s tie straining from where Steve was pulling on it but stopping himself from ripping it apart.

You still had so much energy you needed to get out, and Steve had been so good for you that he deserved a reward. Rolling your hips, your cunt pulsed with desire as his cock slipped between your folds and nudged your clit. Slipping a hand between your bodies and lifting onto your knees, you lined Steve up and slowly sat down his length.

“You always fill me up so good”, you praise him, returning to cupping his cheeks as you kiss him passionately, rolling your hips and down with heavy slaps. He was so deep and stretched your walls to perfection.

Your knees were aching, and maybe you were used to being the one without the control, but this position was hard to fuck with the full potential. You wanted to hold control but didn’t want to do any of the work, so with a sly smile and biting Steve’s bottom lip, you decided to switch it up.

“If I undo your hands, I’m still in control. Only for today, do you understand?” you asked, mind grinding your hips.

Steve moaned and desperately nodded his head, “Yes! Fuck yes, you’re in charge, baby”.

“Good. I want you to pick me up and fuck me on the desk”. Whilst still trying to fuck him, you reached around him and pulled on the end of the tie, thankful that Bucky had managed to tie it in such a way that it was easy to undo. The material loosened around Steve’s wrists, and within a blink of an eye, his strong arms were under your hips as he lifted the two of you from the floor.

The table’s cool surface made you gasp, but then he was fucking you, his face hiding in your neck as your hands gripped his back for support, nails digging in and leaving crescent-shaped indents.

“Ah! Yes!” you shouted as Steve fucked with nothing holding him back, and even though he was the one on top of you, you could still feel the powerful of telling him what to do, knowing that if you asked him to sit on the floor and wait, he would do precisely that.

Every stroke of his cock, pounded into your cunt with a wet gush of your fluids, helping to soften the sensation. He felt so intense you were sure if you put your hand on your lower belly, you’d be able to feel the tip of his cock prodding deep within.

You were already sensitive from their mouths so you came after only a couple of minutes, the fire burning and pulsing so thoroughly throughout your body that you were sure everyone in the building could hear your pleasured screams.

Steve didn’t stop because you hadn’t ordered him to do anything other than fuck you. “That’s it, keep going, don’t stop!” You were being selfish, but you didn’t care one little bit.

Turning your head away from Steve, you looked at Bucky, who looked like he would combust on the spot. A thick dribble of precum was stringing from his thigh to his tip, and the veins in his temple were bulging as he kept himself sitting on the brink of an orgasm whilst still sitting in the chair.

“Bucky, as soon as Steve finishes, I want you to come over and fuck me”.

Hearing the next instruction, Steve’s hands held onto your thighs for more leverage and fucked you hard until cumming with an ultimate groan that vibrated deep through his chest. You sighed at the warmth soaking your hole, but you didn’t have time to process this as Bucky pushed away Steve, and your other boyfriend was filling you.

Bucky’s hands were on you, one on your hip and the other on your chest, holding you down as he fucked into you relentlessly. You didn’t have the energy to tell him off or order him to do anything different. Not when he was fucking you so hard that you were thankful for the table being drilled to the floor so you were sure it would have toppled over by now.

“That’s it, Bucky, you’ve been so good for me, just like that”. The praise seemed to trigger something in him as he goes crazy. Your body was trembling and aching with the efforts of keeping up with his thrusts. You came again, gushing and moaning as all you could do was hold onto his shoulders.

“Doll- I’m gonna cum- so deep-!” Bucky cried out as he smacked his cock in as deep as it would go, his body shaking as his cock emptied his cum, making in with the remaining of Steve’s. Bucky collapsed onto your chest, both trying to catch your breath.

Your eyes were closed as Steve began to speak next to your head. He’d walked around the table, so he was looking down at you and Bucky from above as he caressed the side of your cheek. “Could you do me a favour? Firstly, please can you shout at assholes more often. And two, please tell us what to do because I could have come just from you telling me to take my clothes off”.

With all the energy drained from your body, you quickly slipped into the submissive state you were usually in, wishing to hide your face into Bucky’s neck but keeping a mental note as to how you could use this to your advantage in the future.

#mafia!stucky #mafia au #stucky smut #stucky x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mine*

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 month

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Cuddle bug

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | ~ 900 words

SUMMARY | Steve comes home from a long mission, and all he wants is to be cuddled up in bed with his favorite person. However, your shared secret threatens to be spilled when your good friend walks in the door and finds the two of you in bed together.

RATING | Teen (T)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established (secret) relationship, use of nickname (Doll).

A/N | This little drabble is written based on a request I received from a sweet Anon! As soon as I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist writing a little something, so I hope you will all enjoy it! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm forever grateful. I love you 🩷

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Steve has been away on an extended mission—three and a half weeks and counting—and you're missing him more than ever. The two of you started dating only a few months ago, though it mainly takes place behind closed doors. You cannot get enough of one another whenever you are alone. Still, when other people are around, it is strictly professional—apart from the occasional reassuring smile you give one another.

Within the Avengers, there is no opposition to team members dating. Still, Steve has specifically asked to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to explore the connection between you two. It is the perfect way to get to know each other personally, and the last few months have been amazing because of that.

Now, you find yourself in your bedroom, curled up in your comfiest armchair with a good book and Alpine beside you. Since Bucky is on the same mission as Steve, you have taken over her care, and she's purring away in her sleep on the windowsill, enjoying the warm spring sun.

Just as you're about to finish your chapter, you hear a knock on your door, and you look up, expecting Natasha or maybe Tony to come by, but when you see who walks in the door, you smile brightly. Steve is back from his mission.

"Hi, Doll. I missed you," he tells you as he walks into the room, and your book lies abandoned in your chair. He's still wearing his suit and the shield on his back, letting you know he came to visit you right away, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

"Steve, you're back already! I thought you would be gone for another few days!" Your arms are wrapped around his waist as you plaster yourself against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against your cheek as he gives you soft kisses on the top of your head. His hands rub soothingly over your back as he inhales your sweet scent.

"Mission got wrapped up early, so I figured I'd come home to my girl as soon as possible," Steve says. You lift your head to meet his gaze, warmth spreading through your cheeks as he calls you his girl.

"I love it when you call me your girl; it makes me feel special," you say shyly, and Steve can't help but chuckle.

"I'm glad because I cannot stop calling you that," he tells you before kissing you in a sweet, soft kiss. You two take your time to bask in one another's familiarity, but he pulls away when he can feel a shiver run down your spine.

"I think it's time we had some cuddles, Doll. You're shivering," he whispers, and you nod.

"That sounds good. You know I can't warm up properly with you there," you tell him, and he smiles knowingly. Before you know it, Steve has put down the shield, and his suit is folded neatly on top. As he bends down to put his boots away as well, you happen to glance over, and you're met with the glorious sight of Steve's butt being wrapped perfectly by his light blue boxer briefs, highlighting it beautifully.

"Hmm, so that is America's ass," you say jokingly. You have seen it clothed and bare countless times, but you still can't help saying it. The bright red flush covering Steve's cheeks has you smiling wide, and you can't get enough of the sight.

You have also taken your clothes off, being left in your underwear as you crawl under the covers with Steve. Due to the super soldier serum, his body temperature is always warmer than a regular person's, so he makes a perfect cuddle companion during the nights and colder months.

"Welcome back, Steve. I missed you and your warmth so much," you whisper when you're lying in his arms, your leg thrown over his, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. The comforter is pulled up to your chin, and you're just about to fall asleep when you hear a few knocks on your door.

"Y/N? I'm here to pick up Alpine!" you hear Bucky's voice carry through the door before he swings it open, and you immediately sit upright in the bed, clutching the comforter to your chest, leaving Steve exposed in the bed in the process.

"B-Bucky, hi!" you say as embarrassment floods your body that you're caught in bed with your boyfriend. Bucky's face turns bright red as he looks at the two of you, his mouth opening and closing without words as he tries to understand what's happening. Without saying another word, he turns around and closes the door behind him, leaving you two to wonder what just happened.

"I should go talk to him, Doll," Steve says as he leans in for a kiss, which you happily give him.

"Okay, but only if you promise to come back soon. I can't miss you for too long again!" you tell him, and he nods with a smile before jumping into his pants. The rest of his suit and his shield are left behind as he runs after Bucky to explain what is going on between you two.

While you were embarrassed at first, you're also a little relieved that you can finally share the love between you two with someone. This is going to be the first step to telling everyone about your relationship, too. It won't be long before you don't have to carry this secret around anymore, and you're looking forward to that day finally being here.

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ichorai · 5 months

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airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there.

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too.

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old.

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight.

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay.

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.”

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words.

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car.

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead.

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again.

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward.

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills.

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs.

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next.

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often.

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you.

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut.

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead.

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come.

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question.

Or was it?

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests.

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again.

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music.

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy.

“Sandy?”

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?”

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.”

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip.

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve.

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric.

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything.

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut.

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on.

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears.

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother.

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief.

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone.

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head.

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it.

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe.

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers ff #steve rogers x you

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krirebr · 8 months

Text

What You Can Do for Your Country

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1916

Summary: Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, face slapping, no smut but heavily implied future noncon, general meaness, explicit language, governmental malfeasance. It's dark, you've been warned. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

A/N: I'm not fully sure what happened here. I've been wanting to test out the waters of posting writing here for awhile, but I'd sort of had it in my head that I'd wait for a challenge that spoke to me. This is an idea I've had floating around for awhile and when it finally coalesced into something writable, I thought 'fuck it, why not?' So here we are. I'm kind of terrified that I'm just tossing this into the void, so if you read it and have a sec, please let me know what you think!

You wake up slowly. There's no sound or light, so it takes you a moment to fully realize that you’re even awake. You can't see anything, but you can feel that you're slumped in a corner and that the surface beneath you is hard. You’re definitely not in your room. Where the fuck are you? You try to move into a more comfortable position, and that's when you hear the soft jingle of metal clinking against itself and feel a slight tug on your leg. Your hands immediately go to your ankle, and you find a leather cuff around it, with a chain connected to the wall. You're fully awake now, breaths coming out in short, uneven bursts. Don't panic don’t panic, you try to tell yourself, but that mantra seems to only be making things worse. There's so much to panic about. You reassure yourself that you're still dressed. Things could be worse. The thought strikes you as unbelievably bleak.

You take a deep breath and try to focus. What's the last thing you remember? You were leaving work. The sun was setting, but it wasn’t completely dark yet. A car came up behind you? Or maybe a van? Everything's fuzzy and disjointed when you try to remember anything beyond walking out the door of the coffee shop.

A door suddenly opens into the room, closer than you expected. The space is smaller than you thought. Light floods in from the hallway, blinding you painfully and obscuring the figure stood in the doorway. They flick on a light in the room and the pain in your eyes becomes worse. You cover your face with your hands, trying to lessen the glare and help your eyes adjust. You hear a chuckle from the doorway and slowly look up at the man you can now clearly see.

It takes a moment to recognize him out of context. But only a moment. It's Captain America. Steve Rogers. You know him. Sort of. He comes into the coffee shop sometimes, since it's right by Avengers Tower. Tall whole milk latte with a sprinkle of nutmeg. He's usually with one of the others. He's nice, tips well, friendly. As friendly as he is with anyone he comes across. It's kind of his whole thing. Of course he's nice to everyone, he's Captain America. Big smile, patriotism, and apple pie. All that jazz. What is going on?

At first, your desperate heart thinks that he must be there to rescue you. But then you actually take him in. He's not in his uniform, but dressed casually, in a white t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, his arms crossed over his massive chest, leaning on the door frame.

And he's smirking at you.

"Good, you're awake," Steve says, voice calm and even, but there's a hardness in the way he looks at you that has you trying to cower further into the corner as he approaches. There's nowhere to go and it only takes a few strides for him to get to you. Now that you can see your surroundings, you seem to be in some sort of cleared out walk-in closet. There are bare shelves on the walls and two empty hanging rods line the longer sides of the room. He crouches down in front of you. "I wasn't sure how long you'd be out."

You want to scream at him to let you go, ask what the fuck is going on, something but instead what comes out is a pathetic "Please don’t hurt me!"

His face completely softens and he coos "Oh sweetheart," as he brushes away a tear you hadn’t realized you'd shed. Maybe you got this wrong. Maybe he is here to help you. Maybe it's going to be al– "What else do you think you're for?"

And then, before you've even had time to process what he's said, he slaps you across the face. Hard enough to make you slump back into the wall, uselessly cradling your cheek, tears streaming down your face freely now. You've seen enough clips on TV to know he didn't put his full strength into it and that, more than anything else that's happened so far, has you so terrified you can barely breathe.

Steve tips his head back and briefly closes his eyes, growling out an elongated "Fuuck." He touches the hot spot where he hit you and gives a satisfied smile when you flinch and whimper. "I was right," he mutters to himself. "This is exactly what I needed."

You’ve never really felt like an especially small person, but even crouched like this, he dwarfs you. Up close you’re able to really appreciate how gigantic he is and it makes any fight left in you completely disappear. What are you supposed to do, up against a super soldier?

But you also can’t just completely give in yet, so when his hand starts to wander from your cheek down your neck and to your chest, you do your best to bat it away and put as much strength as you can into your “Don’t touch me!”

When that same hand comes up to roughly grab your chin, you try to avoid him, but you’re shown once more that there’s really nothing you can do. Steve squeezes cruelly as he says “You are going to figure out very quickly that ‘don’t’ is a word you're not allowed to use with me. Along with no, stop, and wait. You’re mine now and I can do whatever I want with you.”

He lets go of you with a slight push and the back of your head hits the wall. You let out a whimper and he chuckles again. You finally give into your confusion and let out a quiet “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he says, and this time you recognize how that word drips with condescension. “This must be so hard for a stupid little thing like you.” He brushes your hair off your forehead with an exaggerated pout, and you don’t get how this could be the same man that always made a point to ask how your day was going whenever he ordered from you.

He stands up so that he’s truly towering over you now. “You have no idea how hard it is to be Captain America,” he says, “to always be expected to do the right thing, to be good and kind and wholesome,” he snarls the last word. “It’s impossible to keep up without losing your goddamn mind. I can’t just be a symbol of all things patriotic and virtuous all the time. I’m a real person, not a fucking bald eagle. It's becoming a problem.” He looks down at you and smiles the most terrifying smile you’ve ever seen. “That’s where you come in. There are some days when I just need to hurt something. So now, every bad mood, impure thought or filthy desire I have, I’ll just take it out on you. And then I’ll be able to go back into the world and be the Captain America they need me to be.”

You just stare at him, wondering how you’ve never noticed it before. This man is insane. An actual sociopath. What kind of plan is this? This isn’t– no! “You can’t just do that!” You argue. “I’m a person, too! I have a family, a job, a life! People will notice I’m gone. They’ll come looking for me.”

Steve laughs outright this time, and it’s startling in how cruel it is. There’s really nothing of the man you thought you knew in the one standing in front of you. He crouches down again and gets so close to you that you can feel his breath. “Oh baby, you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you?” He turns his head slightly to whisper right in your ear, “Everyone already knows what’s happened to you.” He leans back so that he can see the horror on your face. How is that possible? It can’t be.

“You really think I just grabbed you off the street, all by myself? Oh no honey. I went through official channels for this. I requisitioned you. I meant it when I said it was becoming a problem. I’ve been… slipping, lately. And when I slip, it doesn’t just affect me or my team, but the entire country. It affects the fate of the entire free world. So when the president himself came to me and asked what I needed to get my head on straight, I told him what I’ve told you. A pretty little thing to hurt and I gave him your name. And so you were delivered to me today by a fleet of government vehicles. Your family’s been well compensated. They’ll never have to pay taxes again, for a start. And you, I’ve given you an incredible purpose. A chance to serve your country, a chance to help all of humanity. Everytime I’m able to go out and save the world, it’ll be because you’re here, serving me. You should take pride in that.”

You can’t help starting to cry again. This can’t be true. It just can’t be. Your family can’t have– No. Steve’s lying or they didn’t have a choice or– “Why me?” is all you’re able to eke out from the jumble in your head.

“Because every time I went into that coffee shop and you looked up at me with those big eyes and that sweet smile, all I could think about was how badly you needed to be ruined. Broken. And how I wanted to be the one to do it.”

You let out a sob at that. You always thought that when it came down to it, fight was your fear response. But now you understand, you’d never been truly afraid before. In the face of real, hopeless terror, all you can do is freeze. There’s nothing else to do. You can’t fight him. You can’t run. No one is looking for you. You’ve never felt so powerless in your life. You’re pathetic and weak. That’s what Steve saw in you, isn’t it? That’s why you’re here.

“Those tears are so pretty, baby. Got me so fucking hard.” He stands up with a slap to his thighs. “Alright, enough talk. I’ve waited too fucking long for this.” He walks to the opposite wall and gestures to you. “Get up, take off your clothes. I’ve been dreaming about what’s under that uniform.” You cry out and huddle further into the wall, but he clucks his tongue at you. “Trust me when I say that you don’t want me to have to tell you twice.”

You nod needlessly and get up, your legs shaking underneath you. You throw off your shirt just to get it over with and push down your pants until they get stuck on the chain. You pause at your underwear, but a growled out, “Keep going,” has you robotically removing them as well.

You try to cover yourself, but know that it’s useless. He paces in front of you and groans. “Fuck, you’re so soft. You’re gonna break so good, baby.” He takes off his shirt and throws it on top of your own, his muscles rippling with the movement. You can’t help the whimper that comes out and Steve grins at you as he approaches, hands beginning to unbuckle his belt. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll teach you exactly how to be the perfect little toy for me.”

#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #captain america #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #mcu #dark mcu #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #dark fic #kris wrote something #dark!fic

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cthulhu-calling · 5 months

Text

New Perspective

dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: What happens when you wake up in a bed that isn’t yours, next to a man who was supposed to have gone back to the past?

Warnings: dark fic, dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, smut, rape/non-con, l-bombs, friends with benefits

Author's Note: This is a dark Steve Rogers x f!Reader story. Sit this one out if it isn't for you. Please consider the tags before proceeding, this is your final warning, I am not responsible for the content you consume.

Word Count: 2,216

ao3 link

Steve Rogers Masterlsit

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

He looked down at his feet, not able to meet your gaze. Slowly nodding his head, still not looking up, he reaches out to hold you in his massive, trunk-like arms and you let him.

You and Steve had always been close, even if he was quite cold and standoffish when you first met. What had started off as a simple and pure friendship had developed into something more dark and dirty.

In the day, he was your close friend and Captain but at night, he was your refuge. Nights spent with hot, sweaty, limbs tangled in each other, rough fingers tugging at your hair as you drew pleasure from each other’s bodies.

Your arrangement was unconventional, sure, but it’s how you both liked it. No strings attached, just sex. You both had far too much going on to even consider an actual relationship with someone, so you helped each other out during lonely nights.

To say you would miss him was a massive understatement but you knew he deserved to be happy. Happy with the love of his life, Peggy Carter.

Pulling away, you gently cupped his cheek before brushing your lips lightly against his. “You deserve happiness Steve. I won’t hold this against you, but don’t you dare forget about me.” you whispered as you playfully narrowed your eyes at him, poking a finger at his chest.

He huffed out a laugh at your poor attempt at jest before pulling you close to him, searching your eyes for something more.

“Steve, I am happy for you. After all that you’ve done for the world, you deserve a chance at being truly happy,” you said, offering him a genuine and what you hope was a reassuring smile.

Looking lost, he gently nodded his head before pulling you towards the bed. One last time , you thought to yourself as you gave in to him.

One last time, or so you thought.

Steve hadn’t meant to fall in love.

What started out as a simple arrangement of friendly banter and arguments by day and animalistic fucking by night ended up becoming the most passionate affair of his lifetime, and that in itself was saying a lot.

You were the one for him. He knew it and he believed it was high time you realised it too.

But you? You were as clueless as they came. It was getting a little infuriating at this point, if Steve was being completely honest with himself.

It was cute at first. How you would act as if you didn’t realise that he loved you. He bought right into the whole faux innocence act and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him achingly hard and desperate for you. To have you on top of him, your tight little dripping hole stretching to accommodate his thick length as you moan and mewl wantonly.

But even after months, when you failed to acknowledge how in love with you he was, it started to anger him. How you would have a flirty back and forth with Sam, or brush a perfectly manicured finger against a random stranger’s arm at the pub, bending over slightly while pushing your elbows together to give them an eyeful of your cleavage. All of it made his blood boil.

So he decided, he had to have you. No matter what.

He wouldn’t find a more perfect opportunity than this. Under the guise of going to return the stones, he had you believe that he wasn’t coming back, that he was going back to Peggy. Surely, that would make you insecure and you’d beg him to come back, beg him to not leave you. It was foolproof, he was sure of it.

But when he told you he was leaving, your reaction shocked him. You weren’t desperate for him to come back, begging him to stay back and vowing to do anything to please him. Instead, you were happy for him.

At first, he couldn’t believe his ears. Surely, you can’t be serious. Did you really not love him?

He was quick to dispose off that thought though. He was the love of your life and you were his. You belonged with him. To him. He figured that it was all an act, to hide how you truly felt. It was then that he decided to take matters into his own hands.

That’s how you found yourself in this predicament; groggy and confused, still half asleep in a bed that isn’t yours. Once you realise the bed isn’t actually yours, the bedding a baby pink as averse to the bright yellow of your own with every square inch covered by one too many pillows, you’re alert immediately. Where are you?

You push the covers off of yourself and just as you’re about to set your feet on the floor, the door at the left corner of the roughly rectangular room swings open, a smiling Steve stepping inside before shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Morning sleepy head. You’ve been out for quite a while now, almost had me worried there.” he sighed the last part, the eerily hopeful smile still glued to his face.

You looked around yourself, taking in your surroundings before looking back up at Steve. You were in a room with clean white walls, a huge bed in the centre of the room with two twin nightstands on either side of it. There were no windows, only the door through which he had entered and that too on closer inspection seemed to be made of thick metal, too heavy for anyone without superhuman strength to even try to budge.

“Where am I Steve? How are you still here?” you asked, you throat scratchy.

“C’mon honey, sit up straight,” he said as he moved closer to you, holding a tall glass of water to your lips.

Gulping down the water, you cleared your throat before asking again, “Where are we? How are you still here? I saw you leaving Steve,” you thought out loud, pushing the thick covers off of your body, suddenly feeling their presence suffocating, only to look down and find yourself in a ratty and oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts, both you were sure you’d seen on Steve at some point in time.

Steve took in your form hungrily, loving how you looked in his clothes.

“You need to relax honey. I’ll answer all your questions, but not right now,” he said as he gently pushed you back on the bed, tucking you in.

“No, I need you to tell me right now. What the fuck’s going on here exactly?” you said, throwing back the covers to move out of the bed but before you can blink, you’re pinned down by Steve’s body.

“I will not tolerate such language from you. You’re mine and you’re going to do exactly as I say, is that clear honey?” he said almost sweetly but you knew it was all an act to hide how angry he truly was. You saw right through his facade.

“Yours? Steve, the fuc-“ you cut yourself off on seeing his glare, “I- I uh, don’t get it. What are you on about?” you breathed out.

“No point in pretending anymore my love, I’m only doing what you were too scared to do. I know you love me, I just had to get you to admit it. What better way then a romantic little getaway. No phones, no one but the two of us,” he said in a sort of dazed voice while you just sat there, slack jawed and wide eyed.

“You-you, uh, you’ve lost it! You’ve gone absolutely mental! I don’t love you, and I’m sorry if I made you believe that I did but you need to let me go,” you said while pushing him back and quickly getting out of the bed.

He grabbed you by your hips, spinning you around and pulling you close so you were right against his chest.

“Stop acting coy, I know you want me just as much as I want you. Can’t you see? We’re supposed to be together, together forever. And while I won’t tolerate how you spoke to me just now, I’ll let it pass just this once.

“I know you’re stressed love, but you’ve got to accept it. You’re the love of my life. You belong to me. ” He whispered the last part slowly as his hands travelled down to the small of your back, grabbing your ass and squeezing it, making you gasp.

His lips attacked yours, swallowing all your protests as he slowly guided you back to the bed, pushing you down on it.

“Give me a chance to prove it to you, make you see how right we feel, together,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses down you neck and chest, occasionally sucking a dark mark, laying his claim on you.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he kept mumbling as his hand reached to tug down your shorts, deft fingers prodding at your entrance.

He rubbed his thumb in figure-8’s around your clit, drawing a strangled moan from you. Arms and legs giving up their struggle as you fisted the sheets, pleasure shooting up your spine.

“Please, Steve,” you moaned breathily and you knew not if you begged for him to stop or for more.

The cheeky bastard had the audacity to act innocent as he slowed his movements, “Please what, my love?” he asked and you could hear the smug smirk on his face.

“Let me go, please!” you yelled, struggling against his hold with renewed vigour.

Smack!

“Wrong answer honey,” he growled as he landed another smack on your bare pussy, making you yelp.

Easily pinning you down, he ran his fingers through your folds before collecting the wetness there, bringing his dripping fingers to your lips.

“Suck.” he ordered.

When you didn’t move to open your mouth, he pushed his fingers into the back of your throat, effectively choking you.

“Bad girls don’t deserve to be prepared beforehand, do they?” he asked condescendingly before he plunged his thick cock into your unprepared channel.

Immediately setting a punishing pace as his free hand grabbed hold of both your wrists, pinning them above your head. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the squelching of your drenched pussy only spurring him on.

“Look at you, dripping for me. You’re enjoying this just as much as me, aren’t you? And yet, yet you deny me of something that can only be right. We belong together, can’t you see?” he said with a low growl.

You moaned around his fingers, the shame of being close to your climax while he forced himself on you bringing tears to your eyes.

Letting go of your wrists, he brushed away your tears, driving himself harshly into your dripping cunt, “Don’t cry my love, don’t cry for something you can’t change. We belong together, and I’ll make sure you see it.”

Making true of his promise, he started pounding into you, deeper and harder, hitting the spot that made your mind go blank, not being able to focus on anything but the pleasure that only his cock could give, that only he could give .

You let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob as you came undone, clenching down hard on his cock, milking him.

Grunting as he emptied himself inside of you, he slowly removed his fingers from your mouth, bringing his lips to yours for a rather chaste kiss considering he’d been balls deep in you just seconds ago.

“I deserve to be happy. You said it yourself, my love. After all that I’ve done for this world, it’s the least I deserve. And we’re going to be so happy,” he mumbled into your ear, more for himself than you as he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, keeping you close to his body as your eyelids started to droop.

Oh, whatever were you going to do now?

#dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dead dove do not eat #smut #love bombing #stalking #cnc kidnapping

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eloquentreverie · 7 months

Note

Hiiiii, can I request fem reader losing her virginity to protective, Nomad or End Game Steve please??? tysm!

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve rogers x girlfriend! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a few months of dating, Steve's return home and newfound stability have created the perfect opportunity for you to consider taking your relationship with him to the next level.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, loss of virginity, little use of y/n, p in v sex, unprotected sex, established relationship. vaginal fingering (fem rec), oral sex (fem rec)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫❜𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I couldn't really make mind. So technically this is nomad!steve without the beard. I hope you like this anon. Haven't written this trope in awhile!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

“I miss your beard,” she whispered against his lips, straddling his lap as she played with his longer hair, letting her hands run through the soft strands. “I know you had to grow it out when you were on the run but, I don’t know. I think you should grow it back, for me.” She pulled away slightly, pouting as she looked up at him.

Steve’s hands rested at her sides, rubbing soft little circles on her hips as he listened to her talk, a small smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.

“You like the beard, huh?” His smirk grew into a mischievous grin. “Why? Think it would feel good between your thighs?”

He caught her in another kiss before she had the chance to reply. His question made her stomach churn with butterflies as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She whimpered against his mouth as one hand traveled upward from her hip and stopped right on top of her left breast.

Steve grinned as he gently massaged her breast through the thin fabric of her t-shirt and the cotton of her bra. With his other hand, he gripped her hip again and firmly brought her closer to his lap, pressing himself flush against her warmth.

He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and moaned low when she parted her lips so that their tongues could swirl together. They didn’t get many nights like this alone, being the only two in her apartment since James had been called away by Natasha on some super-secret mission, but when they did finally have each other all to themselves, it was always mind-blowing.

Steve slowly began rocking his hips forward as they continued to kiss, making them both moan into each other’s mouths as friction built up between them.

He kissed across her jaw until he reached the base of her neck and sucked gently. She moaned softly before pulling away to look down at him. “Steve, I think I’m ready.”

When Steve looked up, the glazed lust had been replaced by sudden apprehension in her boyfriend’s baby blues. “Ready?”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Mmmhmm. All the way this time.” She leaned down to nip at his lips before kissing him deeply.

Steve returned the kiss slowly, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her body even closer to his. His other hand left her breast and slid underneath the hem of her t-shirt. It traced soft patterns on her back before working its way higher, fingers skimming along the strap of her bra.

Steve pulled away again, his hand cupping the side of her cheek. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? I don’t want to pressure you.”

She nodded with a small smile, leaning forward to kiss him briefly. “I’m ready,” she reassured him, her hand gripping at the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

Steve hummed into the next kiss, and then he stood suddenly, picking her up with him. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, feeling dizzy from the change of position and from his kisses. He kept a strong hold of her and carried her through her bedroom door.

As soon as they entered, Steve sat on the bed with her in his lap, not parting their kiss for a single moment. She grinned against his mouth, loving when he displayed his super soldier strength and just picked her up without effort.

She rocked her hips, rubbing her heat over the front of his pants, causing them both to groan loudly. He smiled against her lips before pulling away. “I love how eager you are. But before we go any further, tell me what you like?”

Y/N stared at him blankly. Steve pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.

“What do you like? What do you want me to do to you?” He kissed her nose as her expression softened. “What kind of touch do you like? Do you like soft or rough? Gentle or hard?” A soft chuckle escaped his throat. “Tell me how you want it, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you however you like.”

Her cheeks burned, knowing there was no option but to be honest with Steve. Her boyfriend wasn’t known for backing down until he had gotten the most information possible on a subject; she had always appreciated his dedication to preparation and research when they were in situations where it could cost them their lives.

But having sex with Steve Rogers was on another level of anxiety-inducing. “I, um... I like it hard,” she mumbled bashfully, looking away.

Steve kissed the side of her head tenderly before reaching up to tangle his fingers into her hair and bring her gaze back to meet his. “Hard?” he asked, an amused grin lighting up his face. “That can mean lots of things. Tell me more.”

Her cheeks heated even more, creeping down onto her neck and chest, and Steve kissed her sweetly once again, nibbling on her lower lip before pulling away. “Well, I’m not sure since this is my first time...” she replied awkwardly, letting the sentence hang in the air.

“So, I’ll show you,” he murmured in her ear, sending shivers down her spine as she clung tighter to him, her hands gripping his shirt. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, you know. We’ll figure out what you like. Alright?”

She nodded, relaxing slightly as she looked at him.

Steve’s gaze seemed darker than usual as he leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. “If you’re nervous, we can start slow. I’ll keep going, okay?” His voice was soft and reassuring. She felt butterflies stir once more as she thought about him continuing whatever he had in store.

She wanted so badly to let herself just let go and enjoy his attention, to give all of her to him without any barriers between them. Her entire body was quivering in anticipation and the desire for release, and she didn’t want to waste any more time. She trusted him so much that she felt like she was on cloud nine. “Okay,” she finally said.

His lips grazed against her jawline again. “Then relax,” he breathed against the sensitive skin there before nibbling lightly on the flesh, drawing out an involuntary gasp.

“You’ve already loosened up so nicely. Just feel.”

And then Steve began his ministrations, his mouth traveling slowly down her neck before leaving open-mouthed kisses along her collarbones and chest, alternating between light sucks and gentle bites as he worked his way from one shoulder to the other. He leaned back slightly, taking off her shirt as his eyes met hers.

When he did, she swore she saw sparks dancing in his gaze as they scanned her body. She tried to stay calm while watching his movements closely, though she couldn’t help shivering under the intensity of his stare.

He gradually slipped out of the rest of his clothes until the two of them were just in their underwear. “Let’s begin.” His voice sounded smooth and controlled, but he was smiling devilishly up at her. She whimpered at the loss of contact and buried her face into his chest.

“Trust me.”

He gently pushed her back on the bed as he hovered above her, his lips trailing kisses down her neck once more. As if he was trying to memorize every dip, curve, or mark on her skin. His hands stroked up and down her sides and over her hips as his kisses continued down her chest, past her breasts and towards her navel.

He paused when he reached the line of her panties before dipping lower to pepper kisses at the tops of her thighs, using his teeth to scrape over her soft skin lightly, which made her legs twitch slightly. He smirked against her skin and repeated the action a few times until her leg trembled involuntarily again. “Steve,” she breathed.

Steve chuckled softly as his hand brushed across her clit. “I like the way you say my name, sweetheart,” he mumbled, before continuing to leave burning kisses on her skin. “Say it again.” His hand slid beneath the material of her panties, and his fingers spread to cup her completely, holding her heat right there.

She couldn’t stop a soft gasp from escaping as his middle finger slipped between the folds, rubbing slow circles around the sensitive bud.

“Stevie!” she moaned softly, arching her back up slightly against the touch of his hand, and his breath fanned over her hot, slick center. He dipped his tongue between her folds, licking broadly at her clit.

Her hands gripped tightly at the blankets underneath her as she gasped. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, and completely unlike anything she had ever felt. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself, so she stayed perfectly still.

The sensation continued to build as he licked and sucked her sensitive flesh into his mouth, sucking her clit between his lips, applying the slightest amount of pressure against the bundle of nerves.

He curled his finger inside of her, stroking over her g-spot before adding a second finger. She bucked her hips upwards against his face.

“Oh god... oh god, Stevie! I’m... oh god I think I’m gonna c—” Her words cut off in a loud cry as a wave of ecstasy swept through her body, sending goosebumps along her limbs.

He smiled against her soaked heat as he licked up and down her slit, tasting her wetness before pressing a kiss to her swollen clit. “That’s it, baby. Give me all of it,” he encouraged with a sly smirk before lowering his face between her thighs again and lapping eagerly at her soaked entrance.

After she came down from her high and her body relaxed, his lips pressed another kiss to her sex before pulling away. “Do you want to continue?” He crawled up the bed until he hovered over her.

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her neck. “Yes. I want you inside me,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip. Steve gazed at her for a long moment, his eyes dark and predatory as he looked her up and down, seeming to decide whether he should deny her wish or give her everything she wanted. She hoped he would give in because she definitely needed him at this point. “Please,” she begged. “I need you.”

Steve gave her a soft smile, reaching out to trace his finger down her nose gently. “Okay.”

She sighed contently and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers together, letting her thumb stroke the side of his palm. “I promise to go slow. Let me know if I’m hurting you, alright?”

She nodded again as she stared up at him, taking note of how beautiful he was in this lighting as the soft yellow light of the sunset washed over his skin and shone in his bright blue eyes. The shadows danced along his face, accentuating his jaw and cheekbones. She reached her free hand up, cupping his cheek. “Thank you for this.”

He turned his head to press a kiss to her palm, his eyes locked on hers as he smiled. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Her heart thudded excitedly, and she tugged on his hand, pulling him closer to her until their bodies lined up together and her bare breasts brushed against his chest.

Their mouths met again, kissing slowly, exploring every inch of the other person’s mouth. When they finally broke apart, they were panting heavily as their eyes met, gazing hungrily at each other.

“I want you, Stevie. Please.”

Steve nodded once, leaning down to brush his nose against hers. “My pleasure,” he murmured softly.

Y/N shifted slightly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he aligned his length against her dripping core and sank his cock inside of her slowly, inch by delicious inch. She squeezed around him, desperate for friction, as he buried his face into her neck and groaned.

His thrusts started off shallow, keeping the pace slow and steady. She clung tight to his body, nails digging into his skin, wanting so badly to make him move faster. “Fuck. Oh fuck. Faster please, I wanna feel you.”

Steve grunted as he lifted his head up from her shoulder. “Patience, baby. I got you.” He kissed her again and quickened the pace of his thrusts. His tongue stroked lazily over hers and she couldn’t help but whimper against his mouth at the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her wet heat.

Her toes curled. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of her as she met each thrust with her own hips. His breaths were heavy and hot on her neck and cheek, making her shiver at the feeling.

His rhythmic movement and the constant stimulation had her walls pulsing around his hardness, clenching down on him like a vice. The feeling was almost overwhelming, almost painful, but unbelievably incredible all at once.

She moaned, throwing her head back as she dug her heels into his lower back, pressing him forward, urging him to go even harder. He obliged with ease, slamming into her repeatedly, his hips moving with a fluid motion. She felt another orgasm building fast within her as he kept pounding against her G-spot. She cried out, gasping as she clung desperately to his shoulders.

They both moaned as they climaxed together, bodies writhing and shuddering together while waves of bliss crashed over them. Steve rested his forehead against hers as he panted, peppering sweet kisses across her face.

Once they caught their breath, Steve pulled out of her and rolled off of her, lying next to her on his side. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer so she could now feel his body heat against her skin. “How do you feel, honey?” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple.

“Happy,” she replied immediately, snuggling into his embrace. Her chest felt like it was full of helium and about to float away. It was such a satisfying feeling; this contentment, this relief at finally having done something she’d been wanting to do for months. Finally, being intimate with her boyfriend after all this time. A satisfied smile spread across her lips. “I love you.”

Steve placed a hand under her chin, lifting her head up to meet his gaze. They locked eyes, their breathing heavy and ragged as they stared deep into each other’s souls. “You’re amazing,” he sighed. “Beautiful. Perfect in every way.” He captured her bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking on the swollen flesh. “And I love you too.”

As their eyes closed, his arms wrapped around her, cradling her body tightly against his, holding her protectively and securely as he whispered sweet praises to her. “Perfect, sweetheart, perfect... absolutely magnificent.”

He ran his hands down her sides, gripping her hips tightly before bringing one of them to cup her ass possessively. Her eyes shot open as she gasped in surprise at the sudden gesture, his words only further exciting her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, laughing softly.

Steve didn’t reply. Instead, he simply stared deeply into her eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust. His gaze flicked between her face and her chest, seemingly torn between which part of her he wanted to look at more intensely.

His nostrils flared slightly, a small hint of pink coloring his cheeks as he watched her intently. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, furiously blinking away whatever thoughts crossed his mind, struggling to regain control.

As he watched her carefully, his jaw clenched as if fighting a primal urge to take her once again. She squirmed in place, feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze, wishing he would stop staring so fiercely at her.

Slowly, he inched closer to her until his forehead touched against hers. His eyes fell closed, his breathing steady as he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her perfume, her sweat, her musk. Her fingers found themselves threading through his golden locks, tracing delicate patterns through them as his warm breath tickled her nose and cheeks.

“I’m glad you’re my first,” she mumbled, voice husky with sleep, breaking their silence. Steve chuckled lowly, raising a hand to caress the side of her face.

He pressed a tender kiss to her lips before laying his head back down on his pillow. “Me too, sweetheart. Go to sleep. We can talk in the morning about what just happened here.”

She giggled tiredly before burying herself into the crook of his neck. “Just promise me one thing, okay? Promise you’ll consider growing back the beard? I miss it.” He laughed.

Steve held her close, running his fingers through her hair soothingly. As the minutes ticked by, Y/N found her eyes growing heavier and heavier until they eventually fluttered closed.

And as she drifted off to dreamland, she swore she heard Steve whisper something softly in her ear before slipping into unconsciousness. “Anything for my darling.”

#steve rogers #chris evans #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #smut and fluff #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #captain america #mywriting #requests.

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biteofcherry · 7 months

Text

His harlot starlet

Cherry Masterlist

enforcer!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: x-plicit; no plot just holes 🤭; consensual; mild power imbalance; a tiny bit of degradation; spitting; unprotected;

Author's note: This is a short little sprinkling of filth, because I couldn't get the image out of my head. It sets after at least a few dates between Steve and Cherry, so they're quite established, but Cherry is still very new to all the dirty things Steve does to her.

Minors DNI; this work is only 18+

Your thighs shake. The strain in your muscles is a novelty you never expected to experience, since you considered yourself in moderate shape with all the bike rides you liked to take on weekends.

It seemed riding a bike, or even running after your energetic nephew, had little in common with surviving sex with Steve.

Or maybe it was the position you weren't used to maintain for so long.

On your knees, your upper body bent forward and pressed into the mattress as Steve ruined you.

Your fingers clenched on the sheets, your breathy whimpers and spots of saliva forming a stain on the fabric. He kept you in that position in what felt like hours, feasting on your pussy from behind.

Big hands held you in place, Steve's calloused fingers digging into your soft flesh. He licked you in reverence, sucking one orgasm after another, until you were quivering and begging.

You didn't think it was the pleading that made Steve stop. He was always very attentive to your reactions, but despite his soft cooing he rarely showed mercy. And you secretly loved that he pushed you further, beyond any limits you imagined you had.

So when he relented, you knew it wasn't because you were oversensitive, but rather because his own desire to sink his cock inside your fluttering, sopping cunt was too high for him to ignore.

A strangled cry fell from your lips when Steve tapped the head of his cock against your swollen clit, then dragged it between your slick folds to your opening.

The head barely caught in and you let out a desperate moan.

It was astonishing, the types of sounds Steve could draw from you. Never before him had you made more than some soft, little moans when you had sex, or played with yourself. With Steve, however, you couldn't help the cries, the whimpers and wailing, the stretched-out groans and mewling.

Each new sensation, each new wicked debauchery, elicited a new kind of sound.

So it shouldn't be a surprise to hear yourself make a strange, pitiful squeak, when Steve took your wrists and placed your hands on your ass as he ordered you:

"Spread yourself for me."

You felt a wave of scorching embarrassment wash over you; your forehead pressing into the sheets to hide your shame as you complied.

Fingers slightly trembling, you pulled your buttcheeks apart, trying hard not to imagine how it had too look for Steve from his point of view.

Your naked body presented for him so lewdly; no resistance from you, no matter what dirty, degrading things Steve asked of you.

"You look so fucking hot, Cherry," Steve praised, running one of his hands along your back and over the globe of your ass.

He squeezed your fingers in short reassurance, before splaying his fingers over your ass, thumb rubbing along the crease.

"Always looking beautiful and sexy, my good girl." He rewarded you sinking a few inches further into you, humming at your breathy moan as his girth stretched you.

"You are my good girl, aren't you?" You couldn't help the shudder that rocked your whole body when Steve's thumb circled your anus.

"Yes, Steve," though he didn't ask it of you, the praise and reminder of being his, made you even more eager to please Steve.

You tried arching your back more, pressing your face into the crumpled sheets, your fingers strained as you held yourself spread wider apart.

"Always want to be your good girl." It was a need as desperate as your need to come, maybe even stronger.

There was that calm hum again, as if Steve was considering something as he pushed the rest of his dick in. Filling you to the brim.

His thumb ran over your tight hole again, then stopped above it. A short pause in any movement, filled with the hammering of your heartbeat echoing in your head.

Then a small, wet splash landed on your puckered hole.

Your toes curled and your grip on the sheets tightened as a ragged gasp bubbled on your lips.

Steve spat on your asshole.

Shock and shame, and unrecognizable dirty arousal filled your body.

Your walls clenched around Steve's cock and he moaned a quiet curse.

"You liked that, Cherry," he didn't ask, he stated; thumb smearing his saliva around your rim.

"My sweet little Cherry," still teasing your hole, Steve started fucking you in slow, deep strokes, "spreading herself for me like a needy slut. Getting turned on when I spit on her tight asshole."

"My harlot starlet."

His words were like a hot jolt, stiffening your nipples and zinging to your clit. Bordering on degrading, but Steve spoke them so sweetly, with no malice, that they felt like a caress of a poetic compliment.

"You want more, baby?" His hips slapped against your backside, jolting you forward as his thrusts gained in force.

"Please, Steve," you weren't sure what you begged for, too overwhelmed with the coil that tightened in your belly.

Another dollop of saliva landed on your asshole and your pussy reacted with the same excited flutter.

Then Steve's thumb was gathering that wetness and pushing it inside, his digit stretching your yet unused hole.

A softened, broken shriek of your climax filled the bedroom, transforming into a string of tiny, sharp cries as Steve's thrust continued to spear you.

His cock was relentlessly abusing your walls, despite the strangling tightness; as he kept his thumb lodged in your ass.

"I've got you, Cherry," Steve's voice turned strained, his grunts matching your moans. "That's it, just take it. Take it like the good little slut you are."

His other hand moved from its bruising grip on your hip to clench on your shoulder. Steve leaned forward, draping more of his weight over you as he kept fucking you in a rough, fast pace.

With this angle the head of his cock repeatedly nudged a particularly sensitive spot in your channel, that had you rapidly reaching another peak.

The thumb in your ass rotated, sensation of it making you shudder and gasp. It teased you with the image of your hole being stretched wider. With more fingers. Maybe with Steve's cock.

Hot breath fanned your year when Steve pressed his cheek to the side of your head; his scruff scratching the overheated skin of your cheek.

"Maybe next time, I'll spit in your mouth."

Your eyes opened wide then fluttered close and your lips parted on a pitiful moan as another orgasm cinched your muscles.

"Fuck!" Steve cursed when you leaked around him.

"Cherry, baby," he kept blabbering, his face nestled in the crook of your neck as Steve chased his own release in jerky thrusts.

Consciousness swimming in the clouds and body completely pliant beneath Steve, you didn't wonder why the idea of Steve spitting made you come so hard. Nor why the sweetly voiced degradation made you melt for him.

As you didn't think why, once again, you forgot about the condom.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #enforcer!steve rogers #enforcer!Steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve fic: cherry

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acciopietro · 2 years

Note

Ok so I just read your “Bad Idea” smut and it was amazing! Can you do one where the roles are reversed? Like y/n has the sex pollen infect her?

combining with request #2: Hey 🧍🏻‍♀️ this is my first time ever requesting smut so- I feel super awkward 😅, I was wondering if you could write Pietro maximoff eating (fem?) reader out on a couch (or gn reader, anything you want :)

a week’s isolation - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x fem! reader

summary: the strange plant thor brought to earth from asgard is housed in the lab on the upmost floor of the compound, it’s pollen safely contained; your room, however, is right below it. too bad they forgot to seal the vents.

word count: 3,878

tw: smut smut smut. oral (f receiving). apologizing in advance. both parties are 18+ and consenting adults!!!!

a/n: takes place in between the age of ultron/civil war era. pietro and wanda are adults but still young! i haven’t written smut in such a long time so forgive me for the long time it took to get this posted. i get embarrassed when writing shit like this so it takes me twice as long since after every word i have to close my computer and take a lap around my room. hope u enjoy :)

“DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?” FINISHED BANNER as he stood before the team, his face flushed and his eyes wide. Pietro had been half-listening for the first portion of the man’s speech, but at the sound of the words “highly dangerous” and “do not go near it”, his interest had been inevitably piqued.

Pietro fiddled with the string bracelet on his wrist, eyes drifting across the long, meeting table. You were sat next to the head of the table, hair daintily curved along the edges of your face, hands folded on the edge of the table, lips pressed together in thought. He blinked before he could get too lost in you; it had happened before and he didn’t feel like getting caught staring again.

A chorus of yes’s and head nods washed over the team, followed by a short moment of awkward silence as they individually considered the strangeness of the situation that was now in their midst. Pietro sent a tired glance to Wanda, who rolled her eyes and mouthed Pay attention!

“I need you all to seriously recognize the dangers this plant might cause,” Banner went on after the group gave their half-assed acknowledgements of their understanding. “Thor brought this here on accident, and it is only he and other Asgardians that are immune to it. We’re only trying to find a proper, safe way of disposing it, maybe even using a way to harness it’s pollen without... well, killing ourselves.”

“Why can’t Thor just bring it back up to Asgard?” Barton asked, scratching his chin. Shifting in his chair, he said, “I feel like that should be discussed.”

“The issue with that, Barton, is that it’s pollen has already begun to cling onto other things. Our plants, here on Earth, need some kind of vector to move their pollen from place to place, like insects or wind. On Asgard, or at least with this plant, it’s very different,” Banner explained. “The pollen acts almost like a virus, one that clings onto surfaces and grows. We don’t know how to kill this virus, so it’s harder to manage than normal pollen.”

Pietro watched you raise your hand; always so quiet, so polite, you were. It was endearing, he thought, watching you always behave so accordingly. The only time he ever saw you lose yourself was in the heat of a fight, when fists would fly and guns were drawn. It was a treat to see you in such a state, a rarity.

“Y/N? You have a question?”

“The pollen isn’t spreading into the compound, is it?” you asked carefully, something in your voice telling Pietro you were nervous. “Should I be worried?”

“No, we’ve done our very best to contain it,” Banner reassured you; Pietro watched your shoulders deflate. “As long as you all stay away from the lab, you’ll be just fine. And anyone who enters the lab will need to wear facial coverings. I’d even go as far as to say we should invest in more hazmat suits.”

“It’s not that extreme, is it?” Steve Rogers asked in disbelief. “I mean, hazmat suits? C’mon, Banner, what’s the big fuss?”

“The big fuss?” Banner gave a dry scoff. “The big fuss, Cap, is that if you’re exposed to the pollen, it’ll make your mind go into such a sex-driven frenzy that you’ll lose touch with goddamn reality! Do you want that? Because I seriously doubt you want that!”

A wave of silence washed over the room. Steve pressed his lips in a thin line, his nose dusted pink, and said nothing in response, only slowly shaking his head.

“We get it,” Natasha Romanoff spoke up after everyone spent a moment of clearing their throats and adjusting their chairs. “Stay away from big, scary plant.”

Bruce opened his mouth to keep going, but Tony Stark placed a hand on his shoulder.

“They get it,” Stark said. “We’ll change the password to the lab, anyways. J.A.R.V.I.S. will make sure no one goes in.”

All the members fizzled off, going their separate ways. Banner, Stark, and Thor ventured up towards the lab, the latter the only one not donned in a white hazmat suit. Wanda scooted her chair closer to yours, nudging your shoulder.

“Interesting, huh?” she commented. “Wonder what they do with them in Asgard.”

“S’probably like a drug,” Pietro chimed in, dragging his chair towards the two girls’ and sitting backwards on it, legs spread, hands dangling on the back of the chair. You crossed your legs, one folded gingerly over the other, the glossy black toe of your Mary Janes brushing his knee. “No doubt they get a shit ton of that pollen stuff and sell it.”

“I thought Asgardians were immune to it?” you said. Pietro paused.

“Well, maybe if they take a lot of it, it’s like that weird stuff you Americans have. Viagra. Helps it stay up, you know,” Pietro joked, to which Wanda whacked him on the shoulder. “What? Just a hypothesis.”

“Don’t be so crude,” Wanda chastised him. You giggled, the apples of your cheeks rose dusted. Pietro’s lips curled up at your reaction; you glanced over at him, matching his smile, before glancing back down at your lap. “Let’s just stay away from the lab for next few weeks or so. Play it safe.”

“I wanna see it,” Pietro ran a hand through the icy blonde tips of his hair. Your eyes widened a bit. “I’m curious now, y’know? I mean, what’s a sex plant supposed to even look like?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Pietro,” you told him carefully, the sound of his name rolling so easily off your tongue that he almost felt goosebumps trail up his forearms. He smirked, cocking his head to the side.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” he finished the quote for you, raising an eyebrow. Your lips twitched, shaking your head a bit and looking away from him. Wanda rolled her eyes, patting you twice on the knee before standing up, strawberry-blonde hair tucked behind her ears.

“I’m going to find Vis,” she announced, the leather of her red jacket swishing against her waist. “I’m tired of this plant talk.”

“Your loss,” Pietro called after her as she walked off. She turned around and stuck her tongue out childishly before lifting a single hand; with a swirl of red light, the door slammed shut behind her. Glancing back at you, Pietro grinned. “You can’t tell me you’re not just the tiniest bit curious.”

“Of course I’m curious,” you told him, leaning forward a bit in excitement as you shifted around; the scoop neck of your black tee sat low on your chest as you moved, and he fought to keep his sights on your eyes. “But, it’s not worth the risk. Not in my opinion, at least.”

“Yeah, well,” Pietro shrugged. “Maybe I’ll grab ahold of one of those hazmat suits and head in there myself. Just to take a look.”

You sent him a look and sighed, “Just don’t be stupid.”

Pietro gave a toothy grin. “Oh, Y/N. When have I ever been stupid?”

---

THE NEXT MORNING, PIETRO WAS bewildered to see you absent from the kitchen. Typically, you’d wake up way before he did, and he’d find you sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea or coffee and a book, silently reading. Vision sometimes would join you, or on certain days when Peter Parker would come round, Pietro would find you chatting away with him at the table. This specific morning, however, you were not there. Vision was sitting on his own, a copy of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden in front of him; a cold cup of coffee was sat in front of the empty chair.

“Buna dimineata,” Vision greeted in Sokovian, not looking up from his book. Pietro rubbed the sleep from his pale eyes and glanced at Y/N’s empty chair. “I presume you are curious as to where Y/N is.”

“Where is she?” Pietro asked, retying the white strings of his plaid blue and silver pajama pants. Vision glanced up at the cold cup of coffee, staring at it until it lifted into the air and carried itself towards the sink, dumping itself out and sitting on the chrome interior of the sink.

“I poured that for her, but she had yet to arrive,” Vision explained. Pietro furrowed his brows, crossing his arms over his chest where the white tank top he wore to sleep was wrinkled up. “I sought for Captain Rogers and he revealed to me that she’s been quarantined to her room.”

“Quarantined?” Pietro repeated, the word sounding uncomfortable on his tongue. He cursed under his breath before tentatively asking, “What for?”

Vision closed Walden and set it down on the table, letting out a simple breath and shifting his eyes to meet Pietro’s.

“It seems that the laboratory and Y/N’s room share an air vent,” he said. Pietro said nothing, not following. Vision stood up, tucking the chair back under the table and holding Walden with one hand. “They sealed off that mysterious plant, however they seem to have forgotten the air vent underneath the desk it’s planted on. That air vent just so happened to empty into Y/N’s room.”

“The pollen,” Pietro pinched the bridge of his nose. “O, la naiba...”

“So it’s just wise, according to Banner, that she is confined to her room,” Vision gave Pietro look, bowing his head forward as though he knew something he wasn’t supposed to. “Which means you must leave her alone until she has recovered.”

Pietro let out a sigh before moving his eyes away from version, clenching his jaw and thinking; maybe there was a way he could get into your room without getting infected by the pollen himself, even if it was just to talk with you. The idea of you being all cooped up there by yourself made his heart clench, but he also couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the effects the pollen was having on you.

“Pietro,” Vision said, and Pietro met his eyes. “Do not try and see her. We don’t know how much pollen is still in that room.”

Pietro rolled his eyes and left the room, not letting Vision interrupt his brainstorming. Banner had been extreme in his warnings about the effects, but how sexually-frustrated could the damn thing make a person? Besides, you were tough. He was sure it wasn’t too bad.

And it wasn’t. But after a week, he started getting anxious. Your room was entirely off limits, the only people going in out being Banner, to asses the situation, and Steve Rogers, to talk to you. You had always been close with Rogers, however, Pietro wished Banner could lend him one of those masks so he could see you.

One evening, Pietro couldn’t sleep. The more he laid in bed, pale eyes staring blankly at the white ceiling, the more he thought about you, cooped up in your room and probably in an unimaginable amount of pain. It had been a week and change already, and this isolation was sure to be driving you mad. He swung his legs around so he was now sitting on the edge of his bed, and he paused.

Maybe this is a bad idea, he thought to himself as his legs carried him towards his door, Like, a really bad idea. He hand was still clasping over the doorknob and twisting, despite that little voice in the back of his head asking if this idea of his could potentially end badly.... or, he could end up helping you out. He couldn’t imagine being isolated for so long.

By the time he reached the outside of your bedroom, he paused, his knuckles hovering over the wood, hesitating to knock. He could hear you from outside, moaning and groaning in pain. His heart ached and he knocked.

The moaning stopped and Pietro gulped. “Hey, dragă...”

“Pietro?” you asked from inside. “You shouldn’t...” you paused, and he heard the sound of your bedsheets rustling. “You shouldn’t be near here...”

“I know,” he said. “But I wanted to see you.”

“Banner says it might be contagious,” you replied sadly. He could hear you frown. “I don’t want you to catch it.”

“It’s been over a week,” Pietro rolled his eyes. “I doubt it’s still airborne. Most viruses don’t last in the air for that long.”

“I guess,” you fell silent. More rustling. Pietro sighed and put his hand over the door knob. Taking a deep breath, he twisting and opened it.

You were a sight to see, that’s for sure. Half your body was covered by the white comforter, and the parts of you that weren’t were clad in a small tank top and small pajama shorts. The ceiling fan was on top speed, and there were two other fans propped up in the room, each pointing towards the bed.

Your face was a bright red, same with your chest, and your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail to keep it out of your face. But your eyes, that had previously been half-lidded, widened considerably when you saw Pietro open the door before you threw the entire blanket over yourself.

“You can’t be in here!” you shrilled. “You’ll catch it!”

You felt a hand grasp onto the blanket, slowly pulling it down and off of you. Pietro, his hair tousled by his hand and his lips curved into a gentle smile, let out a small laugh.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m, like, superhuman. I think I’ll be okay. Let’s go get some water.”

You hesitated, letting him slide the blanket off you. You clenched your jaw, cheeks flushing scarlet as your eyes raked him up and down; he was clad in a thin white tank top that was maybe a size too small, and white-and-blue pajama pants that hung low on his waist. Taking a deep breath, you swung your legs over the bed and got to your feet.

You walked behind him, scared to get too close. Pietro could see your hesitation to the leave the room, as well as your hesitation to touch anything.

“C’mon, dragă,” Pietro laughed at you. “It’s okay. I feel fine. You’re not going to get me sick.”

“We don’t know that,” you took another heavy breath, keeping your eyes off of him. The flushing of your face made it hard to breathe and the twisting in your lower abdomen was making your head whirl. The muscles of his back flexing every five seconds as he reached up in the cabinets for a cup was not helping. You gulped. “I need to sit down...”

“All right,” Pietro glanced back at you, holding the two cups of ice water. “You okay?”

“None of the medicines work,” you mumbled, hesitantly taking the from him. He sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, staring at you. You felt your neck get hotter and glancing down at your lap. “I just gets worse.”

“What does?” Pietro asked curiously. “What’s the issue? Nauseous? Headache?”

“Erm,” you took a shaky breath and squeezed your legs together. “Hard to explain. The plant, the one from Asgard that did this... it’s... it’s kind of odd...”

Pietro raised a brow. You had a death grip on both your cup and the couch cushion. Face beet red, you took a sip from your trembling hand, avoiding his inquisitive stare.

“How so?” Pietro asked.

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled. “Banner said it’s got these, like... coitus pheromones? I don’t really know what that word means, but he refuses to elaborate.”

It was Pietro’s turn to feel his cheeks grow hot. The word was the same in Sokovian, and he knew it was a fancy term for sex, but he was shocked that you didn’t know. You were supposed to be the smart one.

“Y/N... you don’t remember what it means?” he asked carefully. You shook your head.

“Do you?” you asked, finally meeting his eyes for the first time in a few minutes. Pietro bit the inside of his cheek. No wonder you were gripping the couch like a lifeline. This whole time, he had assumed you were moaning and groaning because of pain. His chest felt hot. “What’s it mean?”

“It means sex, Y/N,” he told you slowly. “If Banner says it’s got “coitus pheromones”, that means it’s like... it really is like alien viagra. Like I had joked about before…��

He saw your eyes grow wide, your chest beginning to rise and fall with greater speed. You averted your eyes away from him in almost an instant, pressing your lips together in a thin line and shrinking back as though to pretend he were not there.

“Great,” you mumbled. Pietro shrugged.

“S’not like you didn’t know what it did,” he said honestly. “You’ve been feeling like this for more than a week, you’ve had to have some idea. Probably driving you up a wall, huh?”

You gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah.”

Pietro stared at you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. “I could help you. If you wanted me to.”

You gave him a very odd look, brows furrowing just a bit. The air felt warmer, as though someone had turned off the A/C. “What?”

“You heard me,” Pietro muttered, and now it was his turn to shrink back, his back hunching. “Only if you want...”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you mumbled. Pietro pursed his lips.

“You’re not,” Pietro said simply. “I’m asking you if you want me to help you.”

“I...” you bit the inside of your cheek, and he watched you take a deep, steady breath. “Of course I want you to.”

“Well...” Pietro trailed off, staring at you, awaiting your word. His knees were practically touching yours, the head radiating off of him making you grip the couch tighter.

“Well, what?” you asked. His hand left where it had previously rested on his lap and latched onto your knee, sliding upwards at a snail’s pace.

“Can I?” he asked softly. “Help you?”

You glanced down at where his hand rested on your thigh. Back up at his eyes. Jesus christ.

“Yes.”

You could’ve sworn you saw his lips twitch upwards, a half-smirk half-smile fighting to curl onto his face. You didn’t bother dwelling on it, though, considering you were too focused on the fact that his other hand was on your other thigh, his hands sliding up and down your leg leisurely before coming back down onto your knees.

He pushed your knees apart, his calloused fingers digging into your bare skin, pale blue eyes never leaving yours. You took another shaky breath, swallowing anxiously. He lowered himself off of the coffee table he had been sitting on, kneeling in between your knees. His fingers crawled up to the fabric of your pajama shorts, tugging on the hem.

“Y’know these gotta go, right?” he asked rhetorically.

“Mmhm,” you gulped and did nothing for a second, but as he continued to tug on them, you took the top elastic and pulled it down until it reached his hands. He did the rest of the work, discarding them beside where he knelt.

Your underwear was a light blue, which just so happened to be Pietro’s favorite color (this was a coincidence, you swear). He hummed in approval and spread your knees apart wider. His eyes darted down, spotting the darkened patch of fabric right over her sex. He gave a smirk and snapped his eyes back up to yours again.

Saying nothing, he brought his hand closer to you, running his index finger up and down the darkened fabric. You shuddered. He was barely putting pressure on you, but it seemed the pollen was making even the slightest touch feel a million times more intense than it was.

“These also have to go. As much as I like ‘em,” he said, tugging on the azure fabric of your panties. You felt yourself smile a bit.

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, but grabbed the hem and pulled down down. Pietro grabbed them off of your ankles, and lifted them up in front of his eyes.

“Can I keep these?” he asked. You kicked him with your foot.

“Creep,” you said. He chuckled and put them on top fo your discarded pajama shorts. “Can you please just...”

“Just do what?”

You huffed and mumbled something unintelligible. He pressed his thumb to your clit rather harshly, moving in small, quick circles.

“What was that?” He asked as you gasped, hands grappling at the edge of the sofa. “What do you want?”

“Everything,” you breathed, your stomach fluttering. Pietro hummed.

“Well, I don’t have time to give you everything, but I can give you a... what do you call it? A taste?"

And then, before she could say anything more, he dove forward and pressed a kiss to your clit, eliciting another gasp from you. He skillfully traced his tongue up and down the length of your slit before returning to your clit, where he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You slithered a hand down to tangle in his hair, grasping at the white-blonde locks.

“Christ, Piet,” you breathed. You felt him smile before he lifted his mouth up for a second, licking his lips. Locking eyes with you, he brought himself back down to trace circles around your entrance with his tongue. Without a second to waste, he brought his hand up and plunged his index finger inside, pulling it out to only shove it back in over and over again.

Your head fell back onto the cushion of the couch, back arching, one hand grappling at the back of its foundations while the other grasped onto Pietro’s hair. Pietro’s eyes flickered back and forth between your half-lidded eyes and the finger that was moving in and out of you, and with a rush of adrenaline, he shoved his middle finger inside, too.

Curling his fingers, he brought his mouth to your clit. “Close, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” was all you could find words for, the combination between his fingers and his mouth making your vision go blurry and your mind go blank. “Uh-huh.”

“C’mon, dragă,” he coaxed, his words slightly muffled by his lips being pressed to your clit. “Give it to me.”

Back arching, the coil inside of your lower abdomen finally began to unravel at high speed, body spasming over his long fingers as pretty moans slipped from between your lips. Pietro was grinning as he sucked at your cunt, feeling your velvet walls tighten around his fingers as you orgasmed.

When the noises from you ceased, and your breathing began to slow, he pulled his fingers out and sat upright. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and just as they locked, he put his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. You shivered.

“Feel better?” he asked casually. You paused.

“Yeah,” you said in shock. “I actually do.”

“Told you,” he smirked. You smiled at him.

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” he replied, getting off his knees and sitting beside you, handing you your underwear and shorts. “Would’ve done it even without the pollen, y’know.”

“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow. He gave a firm nod. “I’ll have to take you up on that, then.”

translation:

“Buna dimineata.” - Good morning

“O, la naiba.” - Oh, damn it.

“Dragă.” - Darling, Sweetheart, Love

taglist:

@childishnewt @mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @niallhoransupremacy @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777

a/n: this is painfully unedited im sorry.

4K notes · View notes

imyourbratzdoll · 9 months

Note

Hiya love! My request is for Steve Rogers. Reader and Steve a fairly new relationship. They are having a fight about something and Steve gets loud and gesticulates, Reader flinches (physical abuse in a past relationship, Steve doesnt know about it yet). He notices... How would He react to that?

hello, I decided to turn this into a headcanon, and I hope you enjoy what I wrote.

warning - slight mention of a past abusive relationship.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

HEADCANON OF STEVE REACTING TO YOU FLINCHING DURING A FIGHT

You and Steve had only been dating for a little while, about five months now. You had met during one of Tony Stark’s parties. Steve had seen you in the corner, staying away from everyone as your nerves caught up.

Everything had been okay for a while, you got along so well, and it felt like a fairytale. You two hadn’t fought yet, which made you think it was too good to be true.

Maybe you should’ve thought otherwise because now you were fighting big time over something so small.

You knew he had specific rules for certain things. Like how you weren’t supposed to come to the compound when he was working, the public wasn’t supposed to know of your relationship because he had enemies, and Steve didn’t want you to get hurt.

But he had forgotten his phone and wallet, and you thought he might need them. Being the kind girlfriend you were, you also decided to get him some lunch seeing as you had to go there anyway to drop his things off. What could be so harmful?

Apparently, you were wrong. Steve was furious when you showed up. His ears and face turned red from anger, and he walked around you, slamming the door shut, causing you to jump slightly.

“What did I tell you about coming here?! How can you be so stupid?!” He raised his voice, and you watched him raise his hand. You didn’t think Steve would actually hit you, but you flinched anyway. Your eyes immediately closed, and you began to close in on yourself.

You never told Steve about your previous relationship, one because he never asked, and two, it was too early in the relationship to disclose. You didn’t want to be seen as weak in front of THE Captain America.

Steve caught it straight away. His anger immediately disappears and is replaced with pains in his chest. He quickly steps back, making himself smaller than you because he can see you shivering from his height. “Doll, It’s okay…” It felt like he had been shot, watching you curl into yourself. “I’m here… I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay.” Steve whispers, keeping his hands to himself, waiting for you to come to him instead.

You shiver, slowly opening your eyes and noticing Steve staring at you worriedly. “I–I’m sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Doll. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the jerk. It’s okay.” He reassures you, smiling softly when you slowly approach him and immediately sink into his arms. “Now, do you want to tell me why you reacted that way, Doll?”

“J–just an ex…” You swallow, not wanting to relive those memories, and Steve doesn’t expect you to. He squeezes you tightly against him, his face growing red with anger again, but not toward you.

For once, Steve was happy with the privileges that come with being an Avenger because once you fall asleep. He’ll have Tony find this man so he can pay him a little visit.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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jamneuromain · 9 months

Note

Divorce with either Steve/Andy I'm feeling angsty.

Whether happy/sad ending is up to you :)

Hi bestie <3 I'm sorry it has taken more time than I thought but my drabble turns into a one-shot before I can even realize skjksjskjskjksj

hope you'll enjoy this <3

Lie, Lie, Lie

Steve Rogers x You (Mutant!Reader)

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Divorce, (also asshole-ish Avengers?)

W/C: 5.4 K

Summary: A small leak will sink a great ship. -- Benjamin Franklin

A/N: My first entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.

It starts with a minor, insignificant detail.

Just some static in the phone, really.

A snippet of sound that common people would interpret as bad signals, considering that Steve is phoning you from thousands of miles away, while you are using the landline.

For holy Mary’s sake, who the hell still uses landlines today?

Apparently, the academic conferences you attend do.

Steve notices the small static buzzing the call you are having, after which you grumble in frustration, “Stupid signals, can’t even function properly.”

He smiles, knowing that you can’t see the expression on his face. You are cute even when you are complaining.

You sigh deeply on the other end of the phone, your voice slightly distorted from the electronic, or wireless, transmission, “I miss you, Stevie. Can’t wait to come home.”

“It’ll only be two more days,” Steve reassures you with his soothing timbre, “I’ll be waiting for you at the airport, alright? First thing you’ll see after getting off that plane.”

“Okay.” You know he can hear you pouting, but you pout anyway, “Gotta have some sleep now. I’m going to the keynote tomorrow morning.”

“Take care of yourself.” Steve holding on to his phone, wincing again as the static buzzes again, but it appears only on his end, as you seem unaffected by it, “Take care of my favorite scientist and my favorite girl for me, okay?”

“I am your favorite girl. And you know I have my powers.” You try your best to stifle a large yawn, but Steve senses your tiredness right away.

“Sleep tight, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Steve blows a kiss, hoping that it would travel across oceans and lands via the phone, and reach your forehead.

“Night, Steve.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

You are about to hang up when the static tortures his ear again.

You hang up.

Static isn’t a problem for most people, who, unlike Steve, don’t have super hearing and super memory.

Steve could think that the static is a minor interference, however, static that appears during phone calls are hardly inconsistent. And if he has learned a thing or two during the time that landlines are still fairly popular – 40s, by the way – is that static doesn’t go on and off, nor does it blur on different pronunciations since static should naturally have a pattern.

Since Stark phones issued by the friendly billionaire is certainly off the question, he suspects that someone might be tapping into your landline.

Something is off. His intuition is telling him. So, he called Tony and asked for a favor.

After some analysis that Steve couldn’t fully understand, Tony presses his index finger to his lips tightly, humming to himself.

“Anything?” Steve watched as Tony chugged down the fifth cup of coffee ten minutes ago, and now Tony has been unusually quiet.

Tony spins his chair around, looking thoughtful. He waves his fountain pen in midair, pointing at his screen in general, “This isn’t some sort of prank Bruce asked you to play, is it?”

“Prank? Tony, this is my wife we’re talking about.” Steve is about to lose his patience. He crosses his arm, dead serious, “What is … this? Am I being paranoid or …”

He wouldn’t dare to think about you in actual danger and he’s sitting cozily in Avengers Compound. He could’ve been risking your precious rescue time. Or warn you, somehow.

Even knowing that you have your special powers.

Your mutant powers.

Still, there are hundreds of ways for you to be defenseless.

A collar could suppress all your powers. A shot of the new dose of Mutant Serum could make you lose your X-gene once and for all. And all those terrible things that could happen to you.

Tony scratches his goatee, his expression is puzzled, to say the least, “this static that you provided, looks like the interface Bruce and I were cooking up for a Friday-upgrade.”

“English, please, Tony.”

Tony magnifies the example of static extracted from the recording that is automatically stored on Stark servers, and pulls out a random MRI brain scan from Steve’s health exam last year, “See what I mean?”

Steve watches the two waves on the screen closely, almost stuttering from what he is summarizing, “They look … similar.”

“Exactly.” Tony throws the MRI scan off the screen and points to the static, “This? This isn’t sound. This is human thinking. Hell, thinking, I’m not even sure it’s human. And it has a purpose. The reason you are hearing the ‘static’ – I’ll name that thing later, is that it serves as a relay, that patches you through its – thinking, whatever, and directs your call to Y/N.”

“It isn’t Friday?” Steve blurts out the only AI he could think of.

“If it is Friday, the Nobel committee is handing me the award right this moment.” Tony snorts, but he turns serious as soon as he notices Steve’s worrying look, “but with this fragment, I can locate Y/N,” and with a few taps on the keyboard, a global map appears in front of them.

Tony mutters to himself, “Can’t track the relay itself, but I can … ”

Another few keystrokes and a red dot blip.

“… in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.” Tony isn’t even sure about what the blipping dot shows, “Now this can’t be right-” Tony looks back at Steve, whose eyebrows are tying up like knots, “Where did you say she’s having this academic conference?”

“Leipzig, Germany.” Steve answers without a second thought, “Quantum 2023.”

Tony looks awe-struck.

“I’m sending a team to get her.” Steve stands up from his seat abruptly, heading to the doorway, but Tony’s words make him stop.

“Quantum 2023 is next week, Steve. And it isn’t held in Leipzig.”

“But that’s impossible,” Steve turns on his heels, glaring at Tony, “She told me that she came into contact with some Professor, who invited her to this conference because she was doing so well with her panel back in January.”

“And what’s that panel?”

“CPS Quantum Computer-”

“CPSQ was never held this year.” Tony shakes his head, “The conference was cancelled because a main member of the CPSQ committee passed away last December. What else has she told you?”

“I can’t tell you.” You dare not read his face. Your gaze lands on the marble counter that you and Steve agreed on two years ago, instead of him. You lied. And you know you lied. And the fact that you know that you can tell him nothing, makes you even more scared and frightened, as you are well aware the last things Steve would tolerate are betrayal and infidelity.

Your shared home, once a sanctuary for you and the love of your life, now withering and shaken, cold and gloomy. It no longer is a safe haven for you.

“Did anyone blackmail you with anything?” Steve asks calmly.

He’s prepared for the worst things to come.

He spent the whole night with Tony trying to figure out the so-called “academic conferences” you were supposed to be a part of, and there were eight of them during the last three years.

Some calls were too old to trace, but Tony has figured out it with the recent three conferences, you weren’t doing Keynotes or presenting your results to academia, but in the same spot in the Pacific doing God knows what.

It was undocumented waters. Tony could only gather so much info that the islands in the vicinity were bought by a mysterious wealthy man who paid through his Kaymen Island account.

And you were visiting it almost every four months. Like clockwork.

There were a few heat signatures on the island, but with no visible vehicle, neither ferry nor helicopter in sight, Tony would have to guess that you would need someone who can transport you from where you were to the island.

“No.” You have no excuse. No reasons. No idea what you should say.

But you weren’t blackmailed. You went there voluntarily.

His gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. From the corner of your eyes, you can see he’s looking at you intensely. Trying to figure out whether you are still lying to him.

“Are you cheating?”

The other possible explanation he has thought of. Frightening, if an answer of certainty comes out of your mouth, but it would explain your lies. Steve curls his hand into a fist, the veins on his hand popping briefly onto his skin.

The hands that caressed your hair and your jaw, cradling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. All the gentle moves. Treating you as a soft and delicate being. Now a hard fist on the table.

He didn’t touch you on your way back to your home. Nor did he accept your hugs and kisses at the airport.

He was very disappointed.

“No.” You answer, with your head low.

How could he doubt your relationship? How could he doubt your love for him? Waiting for him to return after every battle, taking care of his wounds, having-

How could he think all of those were lies too?

“Then what are you hiding?”

Steve maintains his best manners not to crush the table under his fist into bits and pieces. He wants you to answer. Something. Tell him why he has been kept in the dark.

Anything.

You open your mouth, but no word comes out.

“I can’t tell you.” You whisper, your resolve of keeping the secret faltering under his piercing gaze. But you can’t tell him.

There’s turmoil in your stomach, wreaking havoc in your guts. You want to throw up when thinking about the truth, but cannot say it. Not with your teeth and tongue. Not with pen and paper. You cannot. You physically cannot.

Nothing remorseful or any expression similar appears on your face, as Steve observes your reaction closely.

“Please, Steve. I promise I’ll tell you, but now is not the time. It was – is an important … deed, to do.”

Steve stands up from his chair slowly.

Not even looking at you anymore, he sounds emotionless. Cold.

“I thought for a moment you were kidnapped. Tortured. Lured into a trap.”

“Steve-”

“I was this close,” he pinches his index finger and thumb together, “sending a full-blown rescue tactical team, to get you out.”

“Steve, please, just listen-”

“And are you talking, Y/N? Are you telling me what I need to hear?” He stands with his back to you, shaking with uncontrollable anger. “The truth, that’s all I want.”

“I can’t-”

“I can’t, either.” He interrupts you. For the entire time you can remember, from his cute and sweet attempts to ask you out on a date, from his chivalry of taking you out and asking you to be his wife, from the start of your happy marriage, he hasn’t once interrupted you when you were talking.

Tears roll down your eyes as you are tongue-tied, unable to utter a sound.

But Steve didn’t see those tears. If he did, he would have some idea that you are truly sorry for what you have done.

Steve stands with his back to you.

“I’ll save us the trouble and ask Tony to wipe our marriage from the system.”

Almost a shriek, your hands and feet are placed in the bottom of the ice pit, “You can’t-! I- You can’t!”

Your sobbing fills the room that was occupied by a dreadful silence. From your husband.

You would never imagine that a lie would go this far.

“Watch me.”

He can’t, not when you are-

Not when you are working on-

Not when you are trying to-

He can’t.

Realization dawns on you that even if you did tell him one thing that you can say to make him stay, he would consider it a lie.

Or an effort you make, trying to be bound to him.

That your trust is broken forever.

With that realization hitting you, he leaves the room.

Five years later, somewhere near Hawaii.

“This is really nice, what you got over here,” Tony comments in honesty, taking a step back to observe the rippling portal gate, “How long has it been put into use?”

Jean, the woman with flaming red hair and a scarf around her shoulders, has an impeccable smile on her face, leading the way as Natasha and Steve boarded the small vehicle up ahead, “Four. We used to transport to and from all over the world with the help of mutants who can create a portal. But as larger machines and construction materials were needed on Krakoa, the very land that you are standing on, our top scientists decided to benefit us all by inventing an instant portal device- Devices, should I say.”

As there are three large portals, each the size of a house, standing next to each other on the founding stones.

“Why are we even here?” Steve murmurs to Natasha, sounding confused, “I thought bargaining was Tony’s specialty…?”

“Smile, Rogers.” Natasha murmurs back, her eyes scanning the tropical island for any anomaly, “It’s a diplomatic event, not a business one.”

“Like a photo Op?”

“Like a peace offering.” Nat lowers her voice as she notices a mutant with bright green hair start the engine of their car, and take the position as their driver, “Krakoa now has the most efficient cancer eradication solution, and if we all behave and act like adults, the world would accept the possibility of the first mutant country. The UN is considering whether to add Krakoa as a new member country as we speak.”

“And if we blew it, WW3?”

“Worse. We will be hanged before we could say ‘assemble’.” Natasha sits straighter when Tony and Jean, the woman with red hair approaches the vehicle, and asks with a louder voice, “Would you mind telling us about the three-day trip planned on Krakoa?”

“Certainly.” With a look from Jean, the green-hair starts the car and drives away from the beach, heading towards a road that leads to the Krakoa city center. “We don’t have anything planned for this evening, so Lorna – our temporary driver - and I will show you around this place in general and escort you to your residence, where you will have dinner with our high council tonight. Tomorrow you’ll visit our university facilities and our most advanced laboratory, with our head scientist Hank. If you would like to visit any place else, feel free to tell us and we’ll try our best to satisfy your demands…”

Their residence is a small building near the city square. After a brief tour of the area, Jean tells them that normally they wouldn’t expect many visitors, so the building, though more well-equipped than most hotels, only resides the three of them, plus Jean for now.

Natasha strides across the room as Tony takes voice notes on his phone.

“… Their technology is at least two decades, if not three, more advanced than our top scientist.” With that as a summary, Tony stuffs his phone in his pocket.

And the room is filled with deafening silence.

“Do you think they cleared this place out when they are expecting us?” Steve sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Tony and Natasha.

“They are afraid of us, as we are afraid of them.” Natasha says slowly. Not really answering Steve’s question, but hinting at the opinion that she has in mind. Her striding comes to a halt, “The looks we had on our way here? Not all friendly.”

“Too bad we don’t have a mutant as a middleman.” Tony clicks his tongue, moving around his jaw like he has a toothache.

“Tony-” Starts Natasha warningly.

They all know one mutant who helped around in the Avengers a few years ago. They know one mutant was exceptionally close to Steve. Hell, they were even there to witness the wedding of-

“I’m gonna go get some air.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long exhale, before walking out of the room.

Of Steve and you.

You were not a powerful mutant. But you would be helpful, under a circumstance like this.

But Steve divorced you a few years back.

No one knows why. No one knows any information regarding the terrible divorce that made Steve leave you, leave the States for months.

Except that you were “missing” from time to time.

Natasha sits on the other armchair in the room, looking closely at Tony, and his greying beard. She chooses her words very carefully, “Was she…” Were you cheating back then? On Steve?

Tony shakes his head, “He never told me.”

“But is it possible that…”

“I wanted to believe the other way.” Tony nibbling at his bottom lip. In the end, he looks back at Natasha, the former Russian spy, “But the incident right after she left…”

A breach that erased all of your data, along with the data of three staff within the Avengers Compound, happened a few months after you left the Compound and disappeared. Not only the records of your information, but also calls and texts, almost every trace of your presence was erased completely from both Avengers Compound and the government system as well.

The three staff later identified as mutants. They fled from the compound on the same day of the incident.

No one knew where you were. No CCTV or surveillance camera has recorded your prescence ever since.

It's a shame to admit, but no one bothered to look either.

After all, there were no demands or ransoms asked. And they were too busy saving the world to care for such trivia.

Nothing else was missing.

A few printed photos that Steve kept in his office survived. Printed photos of you and him together. That he had kept in the bottom of his drawer ever since your divorce.

A week later, Krakoa was established, announcing itself as a country and providing shelters for all mutants.

Steve suspected that the two events might be connected somehow, but Krakoa banned anyone who isn’t a mutant from entering the territory and has been moving on the map ever since, refusing any prying eyes.

Steve wanders into the patch of green a few hundred inches away from the hotel, heading towards the beach.

He was painfully reminded of you.

Of your happy times together.

And the determination you showed when you refused to tell him about your affair.

Yes, your affair. Even though you denied it. Steve believes that you were lying to him. About your location, about your everything.

About your lover.

“… come on down little monkey!” A familiar voice ghosting his ears.

A little girl screams at the top of her lungs, before giggling and sitting at the far end of a branch on a tree a few meters away, “But it’s out of power-Hi, Uncle Hank!”

The girl has blonde curly hair, bouncing as she jumps on the thin branch that could snap at any second. Steve is about to sprint to rescue when he hears you.

Your familiar voice.

“Come on, Mommy will catch you.” You clap your hand, your back facing Steve, who is hiding in the bushes. Your arms stretched wide open, urging the little girl to come down.

Urging your daughter to come down from the tree? From a branch seven feet in the air? How are you even encouraging the little girl while she could break her neck is unfathomable to Steve. This is stupid. Reckless. Irresponsible. A total -

“Come on, little monkey.” You clap your hand again, “It won’t be half as fun if I have to come up and get you.”

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know that the rocket boots will die so soon,” begins a man on your side, apologizing. A thin man with glasses in his 40s. “The battery is supposed to last five hours when I put them on- Oh.”

“Yes.” Steve hears your grumpiness, “Batteries. Hank. My expertise.”

Steve knows your expertise.

Although you studied quantum physics and its application, your interest in Physics derived from your ability to absorb power and power transformation. However, you were not particularly interested in fighting bad guys, that’s why you weren’t on missions as often as he thought you would.

Batteries. You would absorb electricity from it in an instant, even when you are not intentionally doing so.

“Exhibiting her abilities so soon?” Hank gasps in disbelief, raising his head to look at your daughter jumping on that twig, “Normally it would be until their teen years.”

You chuckle, “Missing out on the latest Bio lab, aren’t you? They just published a paper about how mutant parents would cause a higher rate of mutant children, and as a result, their abilities tend to show earlier. Even so,” you kick the sand under your feet, your voice less exciting, “Hers is showing earlier than I did.”

“You showed your ability when you were five, right?”

“Two months till five. But yeah, pretty early. She made the light in our room flick on and off, starting from a month ago.” You make one last attempt at your daughter, who is having her fun with those thick rocket boots on her feet, “Be a sweetheart and come down, alright? Mommy is getting tired and we haven’t had dinner yet.” You plead softly.

“Alright, Mommy.” The little girl answers.

As Steve watches from afar, worrying sick that your daughter would fall from the tree, she spreads her arms and falls from the tree. But like a piece of paper, descending slowly into your arms.

Absorbing gravity to cancel it out. One of your typical moves too. Steve thinks bitterly. No doubt the little girl is your daughter.

Hank offers something as you three walk further from Steve and the bush he’s hiding. Steve didn’t quite catch what he said, but he hears you reply with a certain “Yes”.

Your voice trails away, “But it’ll be fine. Won’t we, little monkey?”

The little girl giggles again.

“Do you want Daddy back, Mommy?” Your daughter Maddie asks abruptly as you take out the storybook before bed.

“I-” It would be a lie, to say that you do not want Steve. But years have gone by and you’ve built your life around Maddie and Krakoa. While you were desperate, wanting him back when you found yourself pregnant with Maddie, the night when he left your house, you knew that the only reason Steve would stick around, which is knowing that you are pregnant. Despite the responsibility he would be burdened with, he would also doubt whether he’s raising some other people’s child, since he already suspects that you were cheating, and your life would be miserable with his indifference.

You remember your panicking and fearing his leave.

Thinking that he can’t leave you, not when you are pregnant, not when you are working on a home and a shelter for your future children, trying to create a safe haven for you and your family.

But he left.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You tuck a strand of her blonde curls behind her ears, gazing into her beautiful cerulean eyes, “I hurt your father really bad when I made the big mistake that we talked about. And he hurt me too. Not that he wanted to, but he left me alone in this world.” You kiss her short chubby hand, placing her hand on your cheek, “We won’t be happy ever again. Because I lied to him. And he will always remember it.”

“Oh.” Maddie sounds disappointed, scrunching her little face together, “But Daddy knows you are doing the right thing, right? Building Kra-Kra-Krakoa and our home?”

She tried a few times to pronounce the word “Krakoa”, making you smile.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You explain to her with more patience than you can ever imagine, “I have never seen your father ever since.”

“He should!” Your daughter curls herself up into a ball in your arms, nuzzling your soft pyjamas, “He should be proud of you. And what you did. You help build the island, Mommy. Daddy should know. And he will forget your lying.”

Kids. Always thinking everything in the world is so simple. A small grin creeps up your lips.

But in your heart, the bitterness swirls into a dark pit.

Everyone else understood. Other mutants who had a family, who told their partners they will be gone for a while, who lied to their partners that they were needed for a job.

Their partners did. Their partners understood the cruelty of separation and the pain that those mutants cannot utter a word about their whereabouts, or the details of the job. The worst you’ve heard of, aside from yourself as an example, was a huge fight between Lorna and her boyfriend, but in the end, she forgave him after a week, having enough trust for both of them to continue their relationship and got married two years ago.

But no. Not Steve.

Steve, who quickly jumped to the conclusion that there was no need to continue this marriage.

Steve, after leaving word of divorcing you, left. To some shit-eating place in South Africa, for two whole months.

Two months. Two months of prying eyes and prodding questions from the Avengers, which you knew they were being kind and helpful, but you couldn’t stay there. Not when it brought pain and scars to your chest every time you’d see some possession that belonged to him, and cry your eyes out, nearly losing Maddie as a result. Not when they were also suspecting that you cheated on Steve and scolding you lightly, telling you to “speak to Steve and ask for his forgiveness”.

They were his family. Not really yours.

Yours is here.

You kiss her forehead, tucking her in, “I sure hope so. Good night, sweetheart.”

Your smile fades as your mind drifts to the human delegation that is alleged to arrive today.

You asked to be kept out of the loop and out of the trails that the delegation is visiting. You even confirmed with Hank today that you would take these three days off from the lab.

You blocked all relevant information regarding those visitors.

You were raised by this mutant family, by mutants such as Jean and Hank and befriended them, and you had your heart broken in the human world. You don’t want anywhere near humans ever again.

“These are some state-of-the-art devices. I have to say, I’m very impressed.” Tony tilts his head to the side, reading the metrics recorded on the screen in the up-state Bio lab, “This is not quite my expertise though, the project you are operating here.”

Hank magnifies the part Tony is observing onto the huge screen behind them, “We are trying to incorporate human thoughts into robots, but in a wireless form. With a thought-” Hank, the man in glasses, places two stickers onto his head, and a robotic arm on the far end of the lab begins writing “Welcome”, stopping dead when it comes to “O”. Hank shrugs, not even bothered by the failure of the demonstration, “We have a talented specialist that helps with coding, but there are always some interferences with the transmission.”

Natasha clears her throat to gain their attention, “I’m also very impressed with the construction of the island as a whole. A construction this large should take … what, five years and a couple hundred workers?”

“Two and a half, to be precise.” Hank gestures for them to move forward onto the Physics lab, peeling the stickers off his temple, “About three dozen mutants involved. It would be sooner if it weren’t…” As if he suddenly was reminded of something, Hank let out a short “Ah”, and a brief pause, “if it weren’t some … unintentional held-up with one of our finest mutants.” His eyes land on sulking Steve, only for a few seconds.

Hank said it with a proud smile on his face. It didn’t take Steve forever to recognize the man from the beach last night, who gave your daughter, very irresponsibly, Steve might add, rocket boots.

Your daughter’s father is very irresponsible too. Not even showing up when your daughter is in danger. He thinks, clenching his jaw, praying for strength that he would punch that guy in the face if he ever meets him.

Natasha and Tony exchange a glance behind Hank, failing to notice Steve and his stern expressions.

“But it must have been a huge effort, even with three dozen, to keep them silent?” Natasha jokes light-heartedly, “There’s hardly any secret in the Avengers Compound without the full staff knowing it in three days.”

Hank nods politely, holding the door for them to come through, “Well, yes. But as you are well aware, a few of our best mutants are telepathic, meaning they could plant a gag order in our heads,” Hank taps his temple with his knuckle, “We couldn’t speak to anyone else about Krakoa for three years until it’s established. Our mind forbade us to speak of it because of the gag order.”

“Masochists, and they are proud of it,” Natasha whispers to Tony in a rush.

“It is troubling. Misunderstandings and arguments have aroused based on the gag order and its implementation.” Hank walks them through the long hallway from one building to another, “But we agreed it’s for the best at that moment.”

Tony makes a face that isn’t as obvious, but Steve and Natasha could tell that’s his disapproving face.

As Hank opens another door for them, the first thing they see is a little girl playing with her toy car on a tall chair. She slides the car down from a colorful track, and the track would deliver the toy car back to her hands.

“Maddison!” Hank rushes to her side, looking up and down to see whether the girl got hurt, “What are you doing here?”

“Mommy needs to pick up something.” Maddie points at you, cheering, “Look! Mommy Mommy!” She drops her toy car to the ground, and jumps off the tall chair, running to you and hugging your thigh.

Steve stops breathing. Seeing you, well and alive in front of him, with your daughter, in a rosy-pink dress that you bought while dating him a few years back.

You look … the same.

“Get behind me, Maddie.” You tug the little girl on her arm, to have her shielded fully behind your legs. An undetectable shakiness in your voice.

Maddie peeks from behind you. She doesn’t understand where this tension is coming from, but she understands one thing: “Mommy, is that Daddy?” She raises her head and asks.

You hate to lie to your daughter. But you are not going to let her be exposed to Natasha and Tony, and most importantly, Steve.

“Christ. It’s Y/N.” Tony mutters.

“Mommy, he looks exactly like the photo you showed me.” Maddie asks in confusion, pointing towards Steve, “He looks exactly like Daddy?”

“Maddison, not now.” It takes all your willpower not to push them all out of the lab at once, “Hank, would you mind?” You glance icily at Hank, urging him to solve the problem at hand.

“Yes, of course.” Hank starts to head the other way, “I’m sorry, but we’re behind schedule. If you would come with me-”

“No one is coming anywhere until we deal with this,” Tony announces, one hand already on his wristwatch, which you know contains a small plasma canon if he activates it.

“Is she…?” Steve knows the answer to his question before he asks. The hair and the eyes are similar to his, and the nose and lips resemble yours-

“Boys,” Natasha raises her voice, “Let’s be civil, shall we?”

“How old is she?” Steve feels a lump down his throat, “is she-”

“Civil?” You let out a dry laugh, the exact opposite of amused, “Tony Fucking Stark is ready to attack when he pulls out that wristwatch. And Natasha, long time no see, the same goes for your widow bites too. Yeah, I saw the glowing blue under your sleeves. You are trying to take my child away from me in a heartbeat and call yourself civil?”

“Tony, Nat.” Steve speaks.

Two words that bring the two of them away from their weapons.

You pick Maddie up from the ground, having your back to the Avengers, protecting your daughter from their grasp, “Let’s go, Maddie. I am apparently not welcomed here.”

“Y/N!” Steve calls to your back, “Y/N, please!”

Natasha is tempted to step forward and ask you to stay and talk this out, being blocked by Hank.

“I assume it is best that you stay right where you are,” Hank says politely, though his thin body has no intention of moving.

Maddie hugs your neck, laying her head on your shoulders. Her blue eyes focusing on Steve while you walk away.

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gummydummy19 · 4 months

Text

A White Christmas

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Male Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend Steve have the tower to yourself this Christmas :))

Content Warnings: Smut (handjob, use of toys, cum eating, anal, top M reader, bottom Steve Rogers, slight degradation, daddy kink...), fluff, horrible Christmas puns :))

A/N: @sozombiearcade thank you so much for this lovely Christmas request and for being so patient with me <3, I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas everyone!!xxx

Word Count: 1860+

The streets of New York were packed. People desperately scattered around trying to find a last-minute Christmas present. It was absolutely freezing, or at least that's what it looked like. You were nice and warm up in Stark Tower, with a book on your lap.

You smiled to yourself as you glanced over to the big, beautiful Christmas tree, the neatly wrapped present you bought your boyfriend immediately catching your eye.

The Tower is quiet, aside from your Christmas playlist you have on repeat. Thor and Loki went back to Asgard, Nat and Bruce went over to Clint and his family during the Holidays, Sam invited Bucky to join him and his sister for Christmas dinner and Tony took Pepper skiing in Aspen. Leaving you and your boyfriend Steve alone in the Tower, which you had decorated excessively.

The smell of gingerbread slowly invades your senses and you hear Steve hum along with "Jingle Bells" from the kitchen. Sadly, his happy humming stops and gets replaced by an upset whine and a naughty word or two.

'Language!', you yell with a grin, but when you don't hear a reply, you decide to put your book aside and make your way to the kitchen.

'Stevie, everything okay?' you ask as you stick your head through the doorframe. Steve is looking down at his tray of freshly baked cookies with a defeated look.

"What's wrong, honey? They look great!" you ask as you walk closer.

"I forgot to buy icing." The look on his face breaks your heart, but admittedly the little pout on his face is quite adorable. Truth be told, he has been looking insanely good all day.

Steve is not only an attractive man, he also cares a lot about hygiene. Back in the 40s he didn't have all the luxuries he has today, and when he goes on missions he sometimes can't shower or shave for weeks. So when he's home, he showers and shaves every single morning after his run. He hates body hair, so he was always perfectly sleek...everywhere.

"Oh Stevie, that's okay...they still look good without the icing," you reassure him, looking down at the gingerbread men.

"They look naked." he points out with a frown on his face.

You grin, pulling Steve closer and pressing a sweet kiss on his neck. "I do love my men naked..." you mumble as you nibble on his ear, hoping to cheer him up a little.

Unfortunately, the defeated look on Steve's face didn't go away that easily. "Aw, Stevie..." you cooed, wrapping your arms around him, "you know I hate to see you sad," your lips found his neck again while your arms squeezed him tighter to your chest.

Steve's breath hitched when you found his sweet spot, nibbling on it while your hands gently grabbed his hips, pulling his ass flush against your hardening cock. His hands grabbed the counter for balance as he whined, feeling your bulge grind against his ass.

"I'm sure we can figure something out...let me turn that frown upside down, baby, hmm?"

"Yes, daddy", Steve moaned obediently.

"Wanna touch daddy's cock? Hmm? Would that make you happy? Wanna jerk me off, baby?", you teased.

"Yes, daddy..." he whined.

"Ask daddy nicely, baby,"

"Please, daddy, please," he bucked his hips forward.

"Please, what?" you taunted.

"Please can I touch you, daddy, can I jerk you off, please..." he begged.

"Good boy...of course baby, c'mere," you packed up a little, allowing Steve to turn around. He immediately dropped to his knees and pulled down your sweats, noticing that you were already rock-hard.

"What a slutty boy..." you groaned, spitting in your hand before reaching down to stroke your hard cock.

You groaned at the feeling, letting your eyes fall shut for a second until you heard Steve whine impatiently.

You looked down at him, "Touch daddy's cock, Stevie", you commanded and he immediately did as he was told, squeezing your dick tightly as he stroked it up and down before twisting his first over your tip.

As you felt yourself creep closer to the edge, the tray of cookies caught your eye. You reached over, pulling it closer while Steve sped up his movements around your throbbing cock.

"That's it, baby...be a good boy and make daddy cum."

It only took a couple more strokes until you fell over the edge with a loud groan. Your body shook a little as you tried your best to aim for the platter, covering the gingerbread men with your sticky, white cum.

"Fuck, Steve...", you couldn't help but groan, "good fucking boy..."

You pulled him up against you, fumbling to pull your sweatpants up in the meantime. You let him drop his head on your shoulder as you did the same. Your mouth found the pulse point on his neck, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your lips.

You looked at the counter, observing the wonderful mess you had made. "Look at that, Stevie...your gingerbread men aren't so naked anymore", you grinned, picking up one of the cookies that was covered in cum and bringing it to his mouth. He took a large bite, savoring your familiar taste.

"Delicious...", he hummed, looking at you in adoration. You couldn't help but pull him in for a passionate kiss, tasting the sweetness of his cookies and the saltiness of your...icing.

"I think you deserve to open one of your Christmas presents early, what do you think?"

"Yeah?", he blushed and you nodded, taking his hand and pulling him to the living room.

"Say, Stevie, have you been naughty or nice this year?" you smirked and you pushed your boyfriend back on the couch.

"Is that a trick question?" he grinned, making you smile.

"Hmm," you couldn't help but kiss him again before getting up and grabbing a neatly wrapped box from under the tree.

"Naughty and/or nice, you've definitely been my good boy this year", you praised.

Steve gently ripped open the packaging, his cheeks tinting red again as he saw what you had gifted him. It was a navy blue, vibrating stroker.

"Do you like it?", you asked, grinning when Steve nodded franticly.

"Wanna try it?", you asked, trying to contain the twinkle in your eyes.

He nodded again, this time a bit more shy.

"You want uh...do you wanna...or...you want me to...uhm...", he stuttered, making you chuckle before leaning in closer.

"I wanna use it on you, Stevie, if that's okay?"

"Y-yeah, yes, absolutely."

His enthusiasm alone made your cock stir again.

"That's my good boy," you mumbled against his lips, "take off your pants and play with yourself while I go get the lube,"

Steve's pants hit the floor before you even made it out of the living room. When you got back, merely a couple seconds later, you found him panting on the couch with his cock in his hand.

"Merry Christmas indeed," you stated, dropping down next to him. Your hand quickly took over from his, pumping him a couple times until he was a moaning mess.

"Turn around", you commanded and he obeyed immediately, giving you a clear view of his shaven asshole.

"Fuck, you know, I hate it when they call this America's ass. This is my ass, all mine," you grumbled, giving his cheek a good squeeze followed by a light smack.

"Ah...yes, daddy, all yours, please touch me, daddy", he pleaded.

"Yeah? Want me to touch you? Want daddy to fill your stocking, hm?"

Steve couldn't help but giggle a little at your awful pun, earning him another spank.

"Shut up," you chuckled, before reaching to grab the lube and applying a good amount on his bare hole and your fingers.

Steve moaned loudly as you slid a finger inside, prepping him for your hardening cock. You slowly worked him open, adding another finger while your other hand gently traced his skin.

"Ready for my cock, Stevie?" you questioned after a couple minutes, noticing he was getting harder and more desperate.

"Yes, please...please"

You used some more lube to cover your cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it to Steve's hole. Slowly but steadily you slid inside him. Both of you let out a string of whines and groans, your hands holding onto his hips as you fucked him slowly from behind.

You gave him some time to adjust before you grabbed the toy, adding a little bit of lube to that as well.

"C'mere, Stevie, lean up a bit...like this", you gently grabbed his shoulder, making him lean his back against your chest so you had easier access to his smoothly-shaven cock. The toy slid over him with ease.

"Oh shit, daddy!" he moaned when you turned up the vibrations, stroking the toy while starting to fuck into him again.

"Fuck, baby, doing so good, my good boy", you praised as you picked up the pace, positively destroying his asshole.

Your free hand roamed over his strong, hairless chest, pinching his nipple in the process.

"Ah, f-fuck..." he stuttered, his head lulling back against your shoulder.

you chuckled, "You like it when I play with your nipples, hmm? Such a desperate little slut...look at you, I've only just started and your cock is already leaking", you taunted, feeling the sticky drops land on your fingers.

"Please, daddy...fuck, that feels so good..."

That was your cue to turn up the vibrations, making Steve keen in pleasure. His hands for your arms, trying to keep himself grounded.

You angled your hips up a little, hitting his spot perfectly.

"Fuuucckk, daddy, right there! Please please please can I cum? Can I cum please m'so close...", he begged, tears welling in his eyes.

"Cum for me you fucking slut, cum for me while I fuck your ass."

And he did. Hard.

Steve's cum shot out of his dick in thick ropes, covering his own stomach and chest.

You fucked him roughly through his high, before discarding the toy and pulling out of him.

"Turn around!" you roared, as you jerked yourself off at a fast pace, ready to tumble over the edge.

Steve clumsily dropped to his knees, just in time to catch the hot spurts of cum all over his face.

You yelled out his name, screwing your eyes shut as pleasure consumed you.

"Fucking hell..." you huffed out. Your eyes fluttered open and you were met with an absolutely ruined Steve, leaning exhausted against the couch, covered in both your and his own cum.

You dropped down beside him, pulling him close. "You did so good for me, you're so hot, so perfect...", you mumbled, trying to bring him back down to earth with sweet words and gentle kisses.

"You okay?", you asked, taking in his fucked out look.

"Hmm", was all he could muster, looking at you with a dopey grin plastered all over his face.

"Looks like you got a white Christmas this year, huh?", you grinned.

"Oh, shut up", he chuckled, playfully hitting your shoulder.

The two of you cuddled for a while after that, before taking a nice hot shower together. Though in hindsight, that might have been a bit pointless, since Steve still had to give you his gift too....

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior

#steve rogers x male reader #steve rogers smut #captain america smut #captain america #steve rogers #smut #fluff #Christmas

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