Captain America: Infinity Comic #1 (2021)
written by Jay Edidin
art by Nico Leon & Dono Sanchez-Almara
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So even though “What If...?” is non-canon to the regular MCU, the episodes do give us some interesting insight on the characters in the main universe:
1) Peggy Carter liked Steve Rogers before the Super-Soldier serum.
(EDIT: Since people keep misinterpreting my point here, we get canon confirmation about this point in What If whereas it’s only heavily implied in the MCU)
2) T’Challa wants to change the world for the better. When he was raised as a king, he approached world issues through more diplomatic means. When he was raised as a ravager, he took on a more direct approach. Regardless, T’Challa is a good dude who wants to help people.
3) Hank Pym has an inner darkness that he struggles with. We saw that in the “Ant-Man” movie when he told Darren Cross that he saw too much of himself in him. Then, we saw his darkness in full display in “What If...?” when he took out the Avengers.
4) Doctor Strange is extremely obsessive, to the point of being borderline reckless. We saw that with his determination to fix his hands, as well as his attempts to reverse Christine Palmer’s death.
5) Vision is just as madly in love with Wanda as she is with him. Wanda trapped a whole town in her made-up world just so she can settle down with Vision, whereas Vision fed people to zombie Wanda because he couldn’t bring himself to put her down.
6) Erik Killmonger is straight up a cruel human being. “Black Panther” actually portrayed him in a more sympathetic light by showing how horrible his childhood was and having him die peacefully. But in “What If...?”, you see the full extent of his cruelty.
7) Thor and Loki are dumbasses who just want to have a good time. Thor’s always been a himbo, but as we see in “What If...?”, he would’ve been far worse if he didn’t have people guiding him. And as for Loki, we already knew he was a party animal based on “Thor Ragnarok” and his own show. “What If...?” essentially said that he’d be an even bigger party animal had he been raised properly.
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WHAT IF… Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, and Steve Rogers Retired Together ✨
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[ sam and bucky are sitting on a bench ]
steve: why do you guys look so sad?
sam: sit down and we'll tell you
steve: *sits down*
bucky: the bench is freshly painted
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I mean, Steve used to do a lot of shows too…
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Natasha: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?
Y/N: Yeah watch your fucking language Natasha.
Yelena: OKAY WHO TAUGHT Y/N THE FUCK WORD?
Tony: 'The fuck word'.
Wanda: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time.
Y/N: Oh my god she censored it.
Tony: Say fuck, Wanda.
Y/N: Do it, Wanda. Say fuck.
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Undying (especially of an emotion) lasting forever.
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Steve: I have really high standards, I only fall in love with graceful-
Bucky :* stumbles into the room, knocking over a vase, startling two cats and landing flat on his face*
Steve:I want that one
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Captain America: Infinity Comic #1 (2021)
written by Jay Edidin
art by Nico Leon & Dono Sanchez-Almara
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“Now give me cuddles, bitch.”
pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
summary: natasha’s been too caught up in work lately but you’re in need of your girlfriend’s attention, any kind of attention.
warnings: cussing, suggestive content 😛, kissing, groping, hickeys, and fluffz
a/n: this is my first everrrr story here on tumblr and imma be real with y’all… i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing 😗 i have no idea how this shit works so bear with me while i try to figure this shit out lmao, also this story has been in my drafts for a veryyyy long time now and i edited it a little sooo i might be pretty rusty with all this writing stuff but i thought might as well post it on here so enjoy!
ALSO pls lmk what you guys think!!!
I sat on the bed, patiently waiting and staring at Natasha while she sat in front of her computer and wrote on her paper.
“Baby, baby, baby,”
“Babe!” Still no response. Is this girl deaf or something?
“Babyyyyy,” I whined as she continued to stare intensely at the paper she was holding and sloppily scribbled down notes on them.
At this point I was getting impatient. I was in need for attention but I can’t exactly have that when my girlfriend of almost 10 months is too busy writing on some piece of paper ignoring the most amazing thing that’s ever happened in her life.
I sighed dramatically before plopping down the bed with a gentle thud and tried to get her attention once more.
“My little cutie patootie”
But still nothing. Not even a quick glance or change of expression, nothing. She was too focused on her writing to even notice I was in the same room as her. I glared at the side of her face, who does she think she is not paying attention to me. I sat up and huffed letting my moodiness take over before saying,
And just like that, Natasha’s head snapped up, slowly turning to look at me, her pretty green eyes narrowing as a small frown formed on her lips.
“What did you just say to me?”
I stared at her blankly giving her a “really?” look before rolling my eyes. “Oh so now you wanna listen.”
“You just called me a bitch.” Her lips turning into a small pout as she stared back at me with a slightly confused look on her face.
“I also called you the love of my life, my wife, my world and darling about, I don’t know, a hundred times? so don’t give me that face, Romanoff.”
I crossed my arms and glared at her trying to be grumpy while staring directly at her stupid pretty face.
She’s been too busy writing down reports from previous missions and catching up with some other tasks ever since she woke up this morning, something she’s been doing for the past few days.
I haven’t even gotten a single proper kiss today except for a quick forehead kiss once she got up earlier this morning before doing her work. What is this? is this a joke to her? am I a joke to her? Since when did a piece of paper become more important than me.
It’s me for Gods sake.
But I knew as much as I wanted to stay grumpy at Natasha, I couldn’t blame her. Fury has been up on her ass trying to make her catch up with all these paper works ever since she came back from her last mission a week ago. I could tell how stressed she has been because of it, she hasn’t taken a proper break, she was tired and it showed whenever she paused for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose before going back to work again or every time she let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed her eyes, trying to keep them open.
I knew her work was important for her to finish right away so I’ve been giving her some space and time for the past few days to let her focus, except when I would come in and out of her room every now and then to give her coffee and to make sure she hasn’t overworked herself yet.
But today, I just felt needy. I needed attention, any type of attention at this point. I just wanted Natasha for even just a second plus she needed to relax too.
I could tell how exhausted she was by the way her eyes were starting to droop down and her brows furrowing in frustration when she couldn’t think of anything.
“I’m sorry baby I just have to get this last page done then I’m all yours okay?” She sighed, her face turning into a soft expression when she saw the grumpy look I had on. She knew what I wanted.
“But babyyy, I need your attention now.” I pouted back at her before standing up and walking towards her desk, plopping myself down on her lap and wrapping my arms tightly around her neck so her face was now squished between my chest.
She chuckled at my actions and tightly wrapped her arms around my waist as she pulled me closer, letting me sit on her lap comfortably.
“I miss you so much Natty,” I muttered, my head moving to lean on top of hers. “I know you’ve been busy but I swear to God, I’m going to die real soon if I don’t get any attention woman.”
Her chest vibrated as she laughed at my words. It was nice hearing her laugh, I haven’t heard it in a little while with all the stress she’s had lately.
She let out another soft sigh before hooking her finger under my chin and making me look at her.“Alright sweet girl, I’ll give you all the attention you need but-“
I opened my mouth to start protesting but before I could even start arguing, she covered my mouth with her hand and shushed me.
I stared back at her, furrowing my eyebrows as she looked at me with amusement on her face before she removed her hand. “Let me finish detka, but just give me ten more minutes and I promise, I’ll give you all the kisses and cuddles in the world, how does that sound?”
I hummed, pretending to think about it while tapping my finger on my chin making her roll her eyes playfully at me.
“Hmm okay deal!” A huge smile now plastered my face, I get her attention and she gets to take a break too, it was a win win situation. “But I’m staying on your lap.”
Natasha let out a small laugh before nodding and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, “Not a problem, darling.”
She picked up her pen before going back to work and quickly writing down notes as I sat on her lap patiently and watched her fill out different forms. Every now and then, I would turn my head and press small kisses on her cheek, her face turning into a shade of pink and her lips twitching upward every time I do so.
After a few minutes passed, I was running my hands through her hair and my head was laid comfortably on her shoulder, she lets out a big sigh of relief before dropping her pen on the desk and wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me making me giggle out loud.
Natasha stuffed her face on my neck giving me gentle kisses that lead up to my jawline to my cheek, my forehead and soon my lips. She smiled through the kiss before leaning back, a blush covering my face when I realized she was staring back at me with a dreamy look and a soft smile on her face.
She leaned in again, her green eyes staring down at my lips before giving me a more passionate kiss this time, she kissed me a little longer as her tongue licked my bottom lip teasingly before pulling back with a pop.
“Ten minutes is up.” She whispered, wiggling her eyebrows playfully making both of us laugh.
“Now give me cuddles, bitch.” I playfully demanded, a faux serious tone in my voice making Natasha laugh again as I quickly got up from her lap, pulling her up and grabbing her hand then dragging her to our bed hurriedly, tripping on the air on the way as she continued to giggle at my eagerness.
I squealed when I finally reached the bed, laying down on the soft mattress pulling Natasha down with me. She happily joined me, making herself comfortable before pulling the covers over us and wrapping me in a tight hug.
I felt Natasha put her legs on top of mine, a habit she had whenever we were on bed together. Her hand running up and down my arm slowly while the other played with my hair.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been giving you much attention for the past week darling,” She shifted slightly and turned to look at me. “Since I finished the papers already, you have me all to yourself for the next week or two, alright?”
I stared up at her through my lashes and removed myself from her arms before sitting on her lap and cupped her face with my hands and ran my thumb across her cheek.
“I know Natty, I understood you were busy baby don’t worry,” I reassured her as she turned a little and kissed my palm. “I’m just glad you can get a break now oh and that means I get to have the kisses I was promised too.”
Natasha’s smile widened, a mischievous look quickly flashing through her eyes as she let out a hum and the next thing I know, her lips were on mine. She pecked my lips a few times, her hands wrapping around my waist as she started to place wet kisses towards my neck.
She bit on my neck lightly, her tongue quickly licking and soothing down the spot making me let out a small groan.
She switched from sucking and biting, there was no doubt Natasha was going to leave marks everywhere, she was going to make sure to give me a hard time covering these up the next day.
She moved up a little and sucked softly on my sweet spot making me let out a mix of a gasp and a moan, my breathing getting heavier the more she continued. I felt her smirk when I tugged at her hair, trying to pull her as close as I can.
“God I missed you sweetheart.” She whispered on my skin, I sighed in content before I let out a quick and breathy “Missed you too Natty.” Her warm breath hit my skin making me shiver lightly as she continued placing hot open mouthed kisses going towards my chest.
“Baby…” I whimpered, desperately tugging at her hair when her hands found my ass and squeezed it. She pulled me closer and roughly moved my hips towards her while her other hand grabbed my hair, yanking it back and exposing more of my neck and chest as she left hickeys all over me.
Once she felt like she was done and left enough marks, she pulled back and gave me a peck on my lips, she grinned widely at me when she saw me sat on her lap, staring back at her through hooded eyes with red flustered cheeks while soft pants left my lips.
Her smile slowly turned into a smirk as her eyes trailed further down, eyeing the work she left on me.
She let out a deep chuckle as she moved her hand up and traced the dark marks that covered me. Her green eyes looked back up at me, the tiredness from her face gone and now replaced with an all too familiar look.
And I’m sure we all know what it meant.
A warm feeling ran through my body and straight to my core making me shift on her lap. I let out a small moan when her hands slowly moved down to my chest squeezing my breasts on the way as she bit her lip and kept eye contact with me. Her finger hooked around the hem of my shirt and slightly pulled it up before her cold hands touched my bare skin, a shiver going through my body, her hands teasingly running up and down my hips before gripping it tightly.
She gave me one last smirk before her hand slowly started moving once again, further and further down making me close my eyes from the wetness pooling in between my legs.
“Since I haven’t been giving you much attention,” She whispered before placing a wet kiss behind my ear. “Let me make it up to you and give you and your body all my attention tonight baby.”
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hopefully this hasn't been done before....
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Close to Midnight - Preview
Vampire! Stripper Steve Rogers x Detective Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Sure, it's just a preview but if people like it, it'll be a full fic with some dark elements so I'm warning now. Language and world building in this little preview.
Summary | After a few disappearances of a few nightclub patrons, a detective on the case doesn't believe in supernatural beings, even if she's caught the attention of one.
There had to be another reason for the disappearances. Three so far with the rumblings of more to come. It wasn’t like you had better things to do than to chase down a rumored serial killer with a penchant for blood. Captain Romanoff wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when she twitched her lips into a smirk.
“I’m with you,” she told you as you headed to your unmarked car. “But we still have a commitment to investigate when we get leads on a case.”
“Vampires don’t exist,” you had muttered, a chill going through your body at the freezing temperature while you pulled your coat closer to your body. “You know that as well as I do.”
“Maybe it’s some freak who likes blood. Either way, that doesn’t excuse the three women who went missing from that club.”
“A strip club,” you’d reminded her. “It’s plausible they ended up going home with some maniac who disguised themselves as good guy.”
“Doesn’t fit the pattern,” Romanoff had waved you off. “You’re the best we have. You’ll get to the bottom of it.”
That was hours ago.
Now you find yourself at a former church, the steeples painted silver and gray while you stare at it. It became public property years ago, you’d thought. There’s definitely something sacrilegious about a former church being turned into a strip club. The irony makes you shake your head. It won’t open for hours but you’re transfixed on the fancy black 1967 Camaro that sits alone in the parking lot.
You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched, turning around to look at the closed doors that are painted a glossy red.
“I’m losing my mind,” you mutter with a shake of your head. “Religious guilt is a hell of a thing.”
By the time you reach the doors, you’re transfixed on the small square on one of the doors, no doubt a space for people to see who is at the door. Goosebumps appear on your skin as the wind howls, biting into your light jacket as you rub your arms. You don’t have a search warrant, something that Romanoff didn’t take seriously and now you’re standing outside of this place like an idiot, trying to convince yourself that the little square on the door won’t open and you’ll be faced with some creepy being.
“So fuckin’ stupid,” you murmur when you turn back around, shivering again before you tell yourself it’s just nerves.
It’s quiet still, the only sound you can hear is your boots crunching on the concrete and fallen leaves on the steps.
You’ll come back with a search warrant. Or even better, you’ll just case this place when it opens fully. It’s an excuse for a drink and lord knows that you’ve needed one, especially with Romanoff’s demands as you’re her favorite detective.
But this? This is something different.
You don’t get paid enough for this.
Turning on your heels, you head back to your car, unaware that the little square had opened after all, red eyes watching you while you pull your jacket around you again, zipping it up.
That tingly feeling goes down your back again, causing you to whip around to look at the doors one more time.
Just like you had told yourself.
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all the love through the scar
Pairing: Rick Flag x F!Reader, Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Warnings: smut. violence. trauma. mentions of drug use. ooc steve probs
Summary: How could he not know? How could he not know? This is like Bucky all over again. This is insane.
A/N: title from starcadian. i got a request for steve rogers and rick flag crossover and i got hit hard with the inspo - this is the same reader as the one from all manner of devotion - you absolutely don't have to read that since i touch on her abilities in this. this is more steve heavy and probably needs a second part - but LEMME know your thoughts please please
It shouldn’t surprise Steve. Not really.
At this point, he should be used to finding out that his childhood friends have become something wrong - dragged into some immortal existence and used. Cut open and worked on.
Stitched back together.
He could laugh. He really could. Steve had lost his good-nature at some point along the way. He still hoped - he still believed in justice.
But - this?
Another firm realization that life was truly fucking cruel.
“You’re alive?” he whispers as he tries to get his brain to catch up with his tongue. Your eyes are wide - spooked. The Belle Reve jumpsuit turning your skin sallow and gaunt and shadowed by a thousand other black marks. He remembers you from before - bunched skirts and linen sleeves and a dahlia behind your ear. Red lipstick that smeared like candle wax on his chin. He says your name and it makes you jerk. The sun is beating down on Steve’s head and he can’t quite find stability. He feels sick.
“Steve,” you say slowly - experimentally - rolling it slick behind your teeth as your gaze wanders - stretches across his probably horrified face. “Rogers.”
“What did they do to you?” It comes out so harsh - so utterly split into pieces that he instantly feels bad. It’s too accusatory - too pointed at you.
You shrug. “You tell me.”
“She doesn’t remember.” The voice cleaves through the tension. Amanda Waller dead-eyed as a shark before the kill steps next to him. “She doesn’t remember you or what was done to her.”
“She said my name.”
Waller chuckles - dry and eerie. “You’re world-famous, Rogers. Everyone knows who you are.”
“Come with me, Captain. I’ll fill you in.”
Steve hates it. It’s like some circus title - some artificial cover. “That’s not her name,” he growls as fury begins to gallop through his veins. He grips the edge of the meeting table - the metal bending with his rage - his anger.
How could he not know? How could he not know? This is like Bucky all over again. This is insane.
Just like you - your abilities cause chaos - delusions - terror.
Impossible. He doesn’t believe it. He watches you and only sees what you were to him. He’d carved your name in a tree.
This is not you. That’s not you. You were just a girl. He remembers the shock on your face when he had changed - his head high above you - his shoulders too broad for you to hug. He remembers your fingers twinning around his wrist before he left for Europe.
“Be careful, Rogers.”
“You’re right.” Another voice. Steve turns to find Colonel Flag - the man who’d contacted him - told him that he’d “done some digging on a prisoner at Belle Reve - that he thought Steve might know her - that he might be able to help -”
“You’re right,” he repeats - gaze unflinchingly brutal as it focuses on Waller. “That’s not her name.”
“Christ, Flag,” Waller snaps. “You really are a fucking knight sometimes.”
“How’d you know to call me?” Steve’s muscles tense as he crosses his arms over his chest. He feels shot - blown open. It had been just like with Bucky - to see that face - those snow-blue eyes sparking with recognition. He still recalls his knees hitting the ground - his wrists wrenched back and cuffed as Rumlow snarled. Steve could see nothing, but the dead breathing fine on solid ground.
There are files - papers - black and white pictures scattered in piles and mess. Stacks of notes with scratched handwriting.
Steve stares at Flag - studying him - keenly aware of the way Flag’s eyes soften when they trace your mug shot that lies proud on the table. “She didn’t remember much of her past. She remembered feelings - feelings toward her mother - the fact that she had one who treated her like shit. She remembered flashes of a life - of a childhood in a city. She just didn’t realize that that childhood took place before fuckin’ World War Two.”
“How’d you know we knew each other?”
Flag smirks before he files through some papers - pulling a photo out and handing it to him. “Totally by chance. There are hundreds of biographies written about you, Cap.” Steve has enough sense to duck his head. They had only continued since he’d retired. Nonstop requests for interviews. Millions of dollars. He’d refused all of them. Flag continues, “She reads a lot - kept saying how Brooklyn felt familiar - wanting to visit. I start doing my own digging and come across that.”
Steve stares at the picture. It’s photocopied, but he knows it. He even remembers it being taken. It’s him without the serum next to Bucky and some other neighborhood kids. Then - slightly behind him - is you. It’s not that clear - the edges are blurred and fuzzy. The vibrant colors of you are defused by all that grey and sepia.
“Shit,” he breathes as he looks closer. “How’d you even catch that?”
Rick shrugs. “I’d know her anywhere.”
“You said that you wanted me to help her.”
“She’s struggling,” Rick says - expression bleak. “She’s been through a lot. Really lost. I think knowing someone from her past might help her.”
Steve narrows his eyes.
“There’s something else.”
Rick sighs. “Whatever they used on her is beginning to cause problems. She’s been getting sick. She depends on a bunch of pills because they literally hooked her on that shit when they experimented on her. It’s her only way of dealing with the pain she’s in. She’s been shoving out all sorts of bad memories.”
Steve shakes his head - something like guilt is twisting low in his gut. “You want me to give her good ones? Fuck - I - I don’t even know why she got taken. I didn’t even know she was alive not thirty minutes ago.”
“That’s what I’d like to figure out. We don’t know who did this to her or why. We don’t know what she was doing or if she was doing anything for the decades between the forties and now. She remembers the last five years and that’s about it.”
Steve rubs a hand over his chest - the cotton of his shirt soft and warm from his too-hot skin. He has memories with you. He remembers with stark clarity the way you felt beneath him - felt around him - the tender, broken sounds you made as you clung to his arms and repeated his name until it lost all sense.
Rick steps closer to him - lowering his voice. “I didn’t just call you because you knew her. I called you because you have enough clout to overrule everyone here - even Waller.”
Steve gives him a sideways glance - understanding. “You mean away from here?”
Rick nods. “I’ve made deals with Waller before. I’ve gotten her out between missions - even pulled the blackmail card. She always finds a way to undermine me - always gets her back in for some unknown slight. It’s a manipulation tactic - it’s a game.” Rick’s lips twitch as he claps Steve on the shoulder. “No way in hell she can say no to Captain America.”
He’s not Cap anymore. Not at all.
But - hell - Steve would use every weapon in his arsenal.
It would be a lie to say that you don’t entirely remember Rogers. His face forces something inside you to twitch - a very sharp snap of deja vu.
He comes to your cell to speak to you - dropping down so he can meet your gaze. He says your name again, which sounds alarmingly familiar coming from those pillowy rose-pink lips. His blue eyes too much as they trace your features with knowing. You swallow. He’s movie-star good-looking, far more attractive than the cardboard cut-outs you’d see of him on street corners or billboards. He had always had his helmet on.
“Flag says we know each other,” you declare because his stare is beginning to unnerve you.
He grins and it burns all the way to your toes. “We do.”
He sticks you in his apartment in Brooklyn. Flag says he’ll visit you as soon as he can. He’s been locked into another mission and you don’t know how to feel about that - nervous at the possibility of him being in danger - nervous that you can’t be near him to watch his back.
“Harley will be there, darlin,” he murmurs into the phone - his voice soft and lilting and caressed with that handsome Southern drawl. “I want you to focus on yourself right now. Rogers is a good guy. He’s gonna give you answers - at least help you out.”
You understand what Flag is getting at - you understand that he’s worried about you. You’ve been sick - your body turning against you - phantom pains and the strongest desire to numb it with whatever is on hand. Some nights you puked until the sky bled pink. Others, you could barely lift your head. Then there were just months of nothing. You were fine. It was whiplash and had left you so unsettled because you didn’t know when your body was going to betray you.
We need to figure out how you got these powers in the first place - who experimented on you - then we can try and find a solution.
I know it’s scary - it can be -
I said okay.
“Do you remember Mrs. Harrison?” Steve asks - sitting across from you in a very expensive-looking leather seat. His entire apartment is that: blues and browns and leather. It reminds you of cigars or the inside of a whiskey bottle. A Rembrandt painting.
Steve scrapes his hand over his jaw. “She was our teacher - you stole her cat once and everyone - you know what never mind.”
You tap your foot against his hardwood floor - leaning back farther into the couch. It smells clean and buttery. Your toe pokes under the pretty rug - the rich colors blending into a pattern of afternoon shades. You have the strongest desire to get up and leave. You want to go on a run - want that lactic-acid burn in your legs. You want to heave for every breath - find your second wind.
You want to struggle and then break through - zipping down, down, all the way down into the heart of this city you’ve never been to.
Though - you now know - that’s not entirely true.
“Want to go on a walk?” Steve asks one morning. He’s hovering at your shoulder as you watch television. It’s some awful Lifetime movie that goes down as good as fruit loops. Sugary and familiar.
Steve’s been trying his damnedest and it’s honestly fun to watch. He’s totally focused - totally frantic to get you to remember. He brings you books and old photographs. You wonder if he ransacked the Smithsonian because the pieces are yellowing with age, but smell like cleaning liquid.
Sometimes you catch his face when he thinks you’re not paying attention. He gets this mournful, pitying look like you’re already gone. He cannot reach you. Damaged goods.
You regard him now. His expression is open - thoughtful - the smidge etch of desperation. You’re not exactly the easiest person to try and puncture.
“Sure,” you reply.
“So you really don’t remember me?” He steps beside you through the streets of Brooklyn. There’s a sherbet sunset - the decline of summer swirling into the fiery song of autumn. Humidity still clinging to the air - the promise of rain for those cracked concrete sidewalks.
“Um,” you offer. “Not really”
“But you remember your mother?”
“Yes,” you reply - the hairs on your neck rising - the tiny fracture of fear that trips up your pace. “She was a monster.”
Steve slows before he turns to you - his hands warm on your shoulders as he fixes you with an extremely honest - extremely tender - expression. “I don’t think who you remember as your mother was your mother.”
You don’t pull away or shout. You’re too in tune for that - too used to your own constant shock that it just stumbles through you now rather than slams with the ferocity of a car accident. “What do you mean?” Your voice tight.
“Your mother was kind,” he states. “So kind that she let me stay at your place for months after my mom died. I spent so much time at your house - I would have known.” He leans closer. “I promise you I would have known because if that had been the case I would have stopped it.”
You blink at him - at a loss for words. The only thing that comes out is: “How? Weren’t you like 5 feet?”
He gapes at you - brows rising in surprise. “No,” he says - sounding offended despite the fact that his lips twitch up. “I was 5’5.”
“Oh,” you smile. “My bad.”
His eyes are unreadable, but they start to search your own gaze, exploring as kids cheer and laugh and cars rush by and fire truck alarms spout. His fingers flit across your jaw before he snatches his hand away. “You believe me then?”
“Rogers,” you murmur. “I don’t know anything. I don’t remember shit. If you say my mom was nice then she probably was -”
“And the woman you remember - the woman you thought was her?”
“Probably the person who did what they did to me?”
He nods - serious. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
It makes you laugh - the look on his face - as if he’s finally found the lead in some impossible mystery. You suppose it is a mystery - a case of sorts. You find yourself outside of it - unsure how to handle it or how to react. This is your life and you feel like you’re staring down at both Steve and Rick as they swoop in and try and put the shambles of it back together.
Feels like a dream - feels far away.
“What?” he asks - rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly - glancing down at his shirt to see if he’d dirtied it. You hadn’t realized you were staring.
“Nothing, Sherlock,” you tease before continuing to walk.
It hits you out of nowhere a couple weeks later. It’s during something entirely mundane: Steve buying you an ice cream cone. The streets are packed - the sky is red-purple with the incoming night. There’s a chill in the air and you let Steve put his jacket on you. It smells like soap and clover. The faintest trace of tobacco.
He’s tasting his strawberry ice cream cone, which you find totally lame.
That’s such a generic flavor, Rogers.
You’re deeply uncool.
I don’t care.
He’s licking it and his lips are glazed in pink cream and when his eyes meet yours, it crashes into you. A memory so solid and real that it punches you in the throat. The other years slip by in a wash - a flood of color and paint brush strokes of events - blurring and colliding until it forms something else.
“Is there ice cream on my face?” he asks - brows wrinkling.
Your heart shudders between your ribs as the images overwhelm you. The feel of him - the weight and mass and sun-touched skin.
“Am I hurting you?” he murmurs as he bears his new body above you - his forearm framing your head - caging you in and keeping you close. “Tell me if I am.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as he rolls his hips forward. The first press is difficult - the pressure shocking. The head of his cock snagging at your entrance before he sinks inside your slick cunt inch by careful inch. You stretch around him - opening up - unfurling like petals or leaves or anything really -
“Steve,” you gasp - arching into him. He’s so warm - enormous now. Sweat is turning his golden hair dark - the strands sticking to his forehead as he fucks you slow and deliberate. You think every stroke of his cock is hitting something critical inside your core - snapping against your pleasure as your lower muscles clench and twitch. “Oh - oh Jesus -”
He picks up the pace - thrusting into your soaked heat again and again - each hit punctuated by his own grunt or labored breath. He draws his hips back just enough for his cock to leave you before he plunges back in - knocking a whimper from your lungs. He hitches your knees higher over his waist - his length barely leaving you now as he makes love to you with sharp, frantic desire.
“I’m not gonna leave you,” he swears before he captures your lips in a hungry kiss that almost stings with the force of it. “I’m not,” he repeats against the tangle of tongues - your panting breaths. “I can’t...”
His voice cracks. You both know it’s a lie. You know that he will be gone by morning - ship out into the new world where there is only blood and smoke. He’ll follow Bucky as he always has.
He buries his face into the space between your shoulder and throat. His mouth is wet and warm on your skin - his teeth nipping at the vein. “You feel so good,” he mumbles as he angles his hips downward. You can see between you - the shadowed, magnificent length of him - glistening with your own juice as he drives it into your sex repeatedly.
The bed squeaks and cries and you pray that no one has come back yet - your mother or father or anyone because you can’t explain this - this unyielding need to have Steve inside you before he left - before he went off into the ice-black deep of Europe where men didn’t return from - at least not fully - not themselves. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him so much that it hurts and maybe you could find him again - follow him - be a nurse - pretend pretend pretend or -
“Are you okay?” Steve asks - his knuckle dragging over your cheek - his expression wrinkled with concern.
Your mouth parts - your tongue thick and swollen and in need of water. Your ice cream is melting in your hand - sticky liquid lukewarm as it slips over your fingers. You can’t find your words - your ability to speak.
Steve says your name again as he steps closer. He is emanating memories - tearing your head open - the smells of him like that rickety wood and dust from his unclean house and how he had split ice cream cones with you on Coney Island and it had always been strawberry - and then the ghost-ache of him in your cunt and his seed sticky all over your thighs as he licked it off with his tongue and you’d been fully scandalized by the act - body burning up from the lewdness, but oh how delicious it had felt and then he had moved that tongue up and center -
“What was I to you?” you finally choke. “Did - were we together?”
Steve winces - his handsome face twisting into something terribly pained. There’s something else there though - light and unhindered behind his eyes...relief.
AYOO lemme know if you want another part. It’s obviously in need of many more answers.
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nothing to see here, just two grandpas enjoying wakanda
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hello, friend! i was just coming in today with the blessed thought of steve only wearing huge puffy marshmallow jackets in winter. you know, these ones:
and bucky thinks he looks absolutely ridiculous, but it's also the most adorable thing he's ever seen so he never says anything and just kisses steve's red nose:)
you come to my house and attack me with fluff 😭 @turtle-steverogers
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James Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x female reader
Summary: Steve has no idea kinks exist so his best friend Bucky has to step in and help him with his new girlfriend.
Warnings: voyeurism, edging, threesome (?), sex lesson, innocent Steve & experienced Bucky
Notes: idk head empty, just horny thoughts. Read it on ao3
„You should just come hang out in my quarters, doll.“
“And why would i do that?”
“i dunno, for fun?”
It was a typical conversation between you and your boyfriend’s best friend, everytime you were alone for even a second in the avengers tower, whether it be the short walk to the bathroom or you moving around the kitchen to make something for the both of you to eat.
If you were alone, Bucky was there.
He wasn’t a terrible friend, well, not after you got used to him. And actually it was worse at first, him coming in and accusing you of using his best friend for the fame, saying that there’s no way you’re actually dating him because you like him.
But that, according to Steve, was his way of calling you hot. And once he got more comfortable, his compliments, if they can even be called that, became a lot more blunt.
Anything from inviting you into his room to asking what kind of underwear you wear for Steve and if he could see.
Bucky was open about his attraction to you, despite the fact that you were only even there because you were in a relationship with his best friend.
You know there’s been a few times that he’s heard you moaning while Steve fucked you into his sheets for hours on in, with his room being right next door, there’s no way he would have not heard it. Though that is one thing he doesn’t bring up, surprisingly enough. You still wish he would, so you could tell him just how big his friends dick is and how satisfied it makes you- that you have no interest in anyone else’s.
„You’ll give in eventually.” He leans back against the island behind you, small, stupid smirk on his face as he watches you finish rinsing the bowl of fruit you’re readying to take back to Steves room.
„Will i?”, you say back half heartedly. You really don’t even have to say anything when he starts talking, but the times you’ve tried that, his comments dared on the edge of creepy as if to force a reaction out of you.
„You will“, he reassures, „they all do.”
You merely nod, setting the bowl down to find a bottle of water.
„Well, good for you.”
“It’ll be good for you too, doll.“
You can feel his eyes burn down your back side as you turn away from him again.
„Just good, huh?”, you say as monotone as you can manage, grabbing the cold plastic before closing the fridge back. „Well, it’s great with Steve. I think i’ll just stick with him.”
He lets out a deep laugh that catches you off guard, making you snap your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed at his genuine amusement.
„No it’s not“, he shakes his head, smirk daring to twitch into a full smile.
„Yes it is“, you snap back, as if this was an argument he could possibly win. As if he knew how good your boyfriend was in bed.
„No“, he chuckles between his words, „it’s not.”
„Yes it is.” you snap back again, eyes widening in bewilderment that he was so set on arguing about it. Though it is your fault for thinking Bucky, of all people, would let you win against him with a one liner. „Your friend is very good at what he does-”
„Don’t lie to me.” The brunette haired man’s smile drops, tone much more serious as he pushes himself away from the counter, long legs helping him get to you before you think to move away.
„Stevie can’t even get you off, can he?”
The embarrassment washes over your face and you nearly drop the bottle from your hand. It was something that the two of you obviously hadn’t told anyone else, trying again and again to make things work, to help get you.. there. But, it just hasn’t happened yet.
You’d met Steve only shortly after S.H.I.E.L.D got his hands on him and he became an avenger, Bucky following a few year after and a few month later you and Steve came together. You’ve taken Steves virginity, so really both of you were still learning about what the other liked. But even on the laziest of days, there wasn’t a time that your boyfriend didn’t reach his climax. But you just couldn’t blame him. He never had the chance to practice with girls before, never went on any dates, never even kissed a girl before you.
But Bucky, well, according to Steve he always had no issues with the ladies. He’s always been handsome and popular among women, so before Hydra turned him into the Winter Soldier and put him into a freezer he had enough time to practice.
“I could, though.”
You can feel the heat from his hand as it reaches up to brush down your neck, corners of his lips tugging up crookedly once again. „Easily.”
You flinch from his touch as it starts to drift lower, scrambling to grab the bowl you’d abandoned and shuffling your way back to the cool comfort of Steves quarters.
The night goes on like normal, sharing the snack you made with your boyfriend, laying on his broad chest and watching whatever movie it is that the two of you landed on tonight. Your hand wanders like it always does, feeling the soft of his chest and tracing down to his abdomen, fingers dipping into every indentation of his skin before playing with the strings on his sweatpants. God, he looked so good in his grey sweatpants.
You don’t think he notices the way you hesitate before moving under the waistband, but he does. He also notices how you don’t turn up to kiss him when you first rub at his cock through his boxers like you always do.
„What’s wrong, princess?” he mumbles, trying to nudge your head up with his chin. „You know we don’t have to if you don’t want-”
„I want to“, you mumble back, pushing yourself off the bed to straddle his thighs. Blue eyes stare back at you as you work his pants down, exposing him for you to freely touch. You watch as his face relaxes, as you drop a glob of spit down to the tip of him, using your hands to slather down the length of him.
Can’t even get you off, can he?
The words have seared their way into your brain, heating you from the inside out with irritation. You could guess that that was Buckys intention, to keep you thinking about him and more about the unintentional edging your boyfriend has been doing to you for months now.
Steve‘s fully hard by the time you snap out of your thoughts, prompting you to remove your own bottoms. You know he’s staring at you with pinched eyebrows, face twisted up in confusion. But you just can’t find anything to say, can’t find a way to explain to him how badly you want to finally cum on his cock, to get off and it be by his hand.
„Stop.“ Large hands grip your hips, halting your movement as you try to climb back on top of him. „What are you doing?”
Finally, you look back at his face, and it’s just as screwed up as you thought it would be, blue eyes searching yours.
„I just want to fuck, Steve.” You blink back at him. You think about all the times you’ve gone back from his quarters to your own, how many times you’ve had to pull out your toys and use the ridiculous amount of slick you still had clinging to you to get yourself off. How each time all you could think about is how much better it would feel if you weren’t having to do all of the work.
„Right“, he nods, pausing when you try again to move back to where you were previously sitting, to no avail as his hands don’t let you budge. „And why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
You move your mouth to speak, but no excuse comes to mind fast enough.
„You’re never like this, even when you are needy“, he laughs, maneuvering you to sit back on his comforter.
You groan, throwing yourself back into his pillows, arms falling over your face as you stall off on telling him what was actually on your mind. He’s never cared about what Bucky said to you before, mainly because neither did you. Nothing he’s said has ever carried weight before, but that one sentence feels like a bag of boulders sitting atop your chest.
„How does Bucky know you haven’t made me cum before?”
If the situation wasn’t what it is, you’d laugh at how comically fast Steve sits up and turns to face you.
You peek from behind your arms, and sigh before explaining to him the conversation that was weighing on you.
„I didn’t tell him.” Steve lays himself back down next to you, blinking up at the ceiling in thought.
„Do you think he was bluffing?”
You twist your lips, throwing your now cold legs over your boyfriend for warmth.
„He’s only a dick about things he knows are true“, he replies, hands rubbing up your calves to your thighs and back down again. „Can’t be intimidating when you look stupid“, he laughs, quoting his friend.
„So what then?”, you slide back into his side, a hand palming down to his already softening cock to tug it back to life.
„No idea,” he hums at the feeling, „but you know i’ll keep trying until i do.”
It’s just as you start to get into a rhythm with your wrist, making his breathing a bit heavier when you feel Steves phone vibrate somewhere on the bed. You don’t stop even as he moves the arm holding you into him to unlock his screen.
There’s no real reason to be so hung up on those stupid words. Not when Steve was right here, easy to give as always.
You take the chance to straddle one of his thighs while you can, leaning over his body you press kisses down his chest. Mind fully focused on him you start to feel the familiar pool of warmth settle in your stomach and start to leak out between your thighs.
You only get a twitch of your hips across his thigh before he stops you again. Before you can get a word out to question it, he shows you the message pulled from his notification screen.
»u both have to know that i can hear everyfuckingthing in ur room«
»including how she whines every time that u cum before she does«
»Your 80 years old Cap, u should know how to fuck better«
„So…,” you pull his face down to you so he can hear you whisper. “i guess we have to start being quiet.”
He doesn’t reply at first, instead he leans further down to put his lips to your throat, sucking at the sensitive parts of it. You have to bite your lips to fight back the sounds you make.
„No way,” he says into your skin, kissing up the side of your neck as his weight shifts onto one arm. The other slides between your bodies, a finger sliding up your slit just as he grazes the shell of your ear with his teeth.
„He’s been listening all this time, who cares if he listens some more.”
Steve‘s thick finger slides past your entrance, pulling a small whine from you as he pulls it back before pushing it back in. The stretch he gives you as he adds another feels good, but it’s not nearly enough.
„Just got to make you cum this time, don’t i, baby?” His words vibrate against you, making your hips twitch down on his fingers, greedy for him to make good on his word.
“More Steve, please-“
and he obliges, pressing a third finger into your poor little cunt, stretching your walls in the way that sends your eyes rolling back and hips rolling up.
„Well you won’t be able to do it like that“, a voice comes from the doorway. A figure, that you’re unable to see because of the chest blocking your sight, approaches the bed and you know, before you see the dark brown hair leaning over, that it’s of course Bucky.
„Buck“, your boyfriend shifts to try and cover you more, which results in him pushing his fingers even deeper inside you and pulling a high whine from your lips. „Get out.”
„What?” the bed dips next to the two of you. „You said i can listen, it’s basically the same thing as watching.”
A different set of fingers graze up your side, stopping at where Steve’s body covers your own.
„Plus, i could teach you some shit while i’m here”, he chuckles, pushing his friend out of the way to reveal more of your skin. „Since you clearly don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”
There’s a brief silence in the room when your boyfriend finally looks back down at you, raising an eyebrow as if asking you for an answer, like he’s already settled on his own.
Your mouth drops to speak but a moan slips out instead of a whine when cold metal fingers twist at one of your nipples causing a flood of heat to rush down to the pit of your stomach from the new sensation. The obnoxious deep chuckle rings from beside you at your reaction and your answer has been decided for you.
The room is quiet for a few minutes, only ambience is the sound of Bucky pushing Steve off his own bed and shifting you around to sit in his lap, legs spread and your knees hooked on his own.
Bucky says something about this being the best demonstrative position and you have to bite back the remark about that being such a big word for him because the feeling of one warm hand and a cold metal one against the soft skin of your thigh is too tempting to risk losing.
„Don’t look at me while i do this.” His words rumble against your neck as he pulls you further back into his chest.
„Like i would.”
„‘course you would, doll.”
„You know where her clit is, right?”, he asks over your shoulder, a single finger sliding through your folds, catching on the hood of your clit with each movement.
„Do you know how to use her clit?”, the pad of his finger presses against the sensitive nub, circling slowly and sending hot static down your thighs.
Your boyfriend trails off, or maybe he doesn’t, maybe he’s talking and you’ve tuned him out, to focus on how good it feels… to feel good at the hands of someone else.
„So, that’s a no.” The voice from behind you pulls you from your pleasured state and you realize that you’ve completely relaxed into him with a hand wrapping around the bicep of the arm that leads down between your legs.
„What about her g-spot?”, Bucky mumbles, sounding completely uninterested in getting an actual answer.
„She said fingers can’t reach it.”
And there he goes laughing again.
To prove his point, Bucky brings his metal hand down to your entrance, keeping a steady pace on your clit as he slides a finger into your dripping cunt with ease.
„You just gotta-“
He curls the finger up against your soft wall, sending a crash of pleasure into you, one you’ve only ever been able to give to yourself. You let out a sound so loud as he adds another and starts to pump and curl them into you, that it startles even you.
Your body can’t even move to hump down into his hands, limp and burning with pleasure as you let him do as he pleases. It takes only seconds for the heat in your stomach to become a knot wearing thin, you can feel your legs start to shake, trying to twitch closed around his hands and only being stopped by Bucky‘s own knees.
His wrists move faster as your nails begin to dig crescent shapes into his arm, your walls spasm around his fingers, trying to push them out as you reach your high and cream all down his wrist.
„Easy“, Bucky smirks into your ear as you blink away the white stars from your vision.
Once you can see clearly enough you look up at your boyfriend who’s dressed only in his boxers, cock fully hard just underneath them. You go to push yourself towards him but are stopped by sticky hands at your wrists.
„I’m not done.”
„But this was just-“, you start, until your words are caught in your throat when you see the tip of Buckys cock peek out from his sweats.
„What’d i say, doll?”, he tugs you back towards him, pressing his lips to your neck with no regard for Steve who only sits a few inches away.
„I’m teaching my best friend some stuff, you just gotta lay down and take it, understand?“
You’re instructed to get on your hands and knees, after failed attempts to get your boyfriend to object- to say anything, you comply. Face burning hot as you press it into the mattress in front of where he stands, ass propped high where Bucky kneels behind you.
„It’s the same thing with your dick.”
Your legs involuntarily twitch as his tip pats against your still sensitive clit.
„Just gotta know where to press against.”
You’re so embarrassed, being used like this, so embarrassed by the fact that you’re enjoying it so much. So embarrassed that your boyfriend, that Steve, is watching his best friend sink his cock into you and he’s not saying a word. So embarrassed at the sounds you’re making into the sheets at the feeling of a new stretch.
You’re so embarrassed until Buckys hand grips the back of your neck and pulls you up on your knees, your back against his chest. Your eyes meet with Steve’s for a split second before they’re rolling back once again when Bucky thrusts into you, the tip of him perfectly pressing against that same doughy spot inside of you.
„S-Steve“, you moan out breathily, the pace he sets is brutal, abusing your g-spot and making you hot all over.
A sting rises on your cheek as Bucky uses his metal hand to smack you lightly.
„Wrong name, doll“, he warns, but you can’t help the way it rolls off your tongue again at the overwhelming pleasure.
There’s another smack and then his cold metal fingers dig into your jaw, his hips slowing down as he speaks.
„Who’s fucking you right now?”
Buckys hips circulate, grinding up into you, pressing the head of him impossibly deep into your g-spot.
„Who is it that just made you cum?”
You’re whining pathetically and grinding back into him so desperately each time he pulls slightly back.
„Who’s name should you be saying right now?” The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and you nearly cave in on yourself. You squeeze your eyes shut, the burn of embarrassment resurfacing on your face for the umpteenth time, surely if Steve had a problem he would’ve said something by now.
„Bucky, fuck, B-Bucky!“, you moan.
You know it’s impossible, you swear you can hear the smirk in his hum when you finally reply.
„Now look at him and say it.”
He moves your head to where you have no choice but to stare into the cloudy eyes that look back at you so eagerly. You try to bite your lip, tears threatening to flood your eyes, but none make it to fruition once Bucky starts his brutal pace once more.
If not for the arm holding you against the brunette men, you would’ve collapsed in on yourself from the wash of pleasure that shoots through you.
„Bucky!”, you moan again, a little short on words as if he had fucked you stupid already.
You think for a split second maybe Steve wants to go back on this, that he just wants you to be the one to speak up. But that split second is ended when Buckys fingers come back to your clit, drawing small shapes.
„I-i’m gonna-”, you feel the heat tightening in your stomach, a knot grasping together by only a few strings as white starts to seep into the edges of your vision. „I‘m-“
Just as fast it comes, it fades once Bucky pulls out completely, leaving your poor cunt desperately squeezing around nothing as that all too familiar whine leaves your lips. The one you’ve done for months more each time your boyfriend has done this same exact thing.
You try to turn your head, to see why he’d stopped, but the metal hand gripping your face just turns you back to the man in front of you. And you see it. Steves panting heavily and hand covered in his own cum just from seeing you meet another ruined end.
„Who would’ve thought mean old Stevie liked edging his pretty little girlfriend.” You hear Bucky chuckle into your ear before throwing you back into the pillows, hands making quick work of pushing your thighs up for him to slide in between.
You can still see your boyfriend starring back at you with lustful eyes.
„Hey“, another light slap is done against your cheek as Bucky lines himself up with your entrance. „Eyes on me, doll.”
He starts to sheathe himself in once again, slowly. You can feel the outline of his head, the throbbing thickness as it drags along your sticky walls.
„You’re lucky i’m not into that shit too“, he says, more to himself it seems when his eyes aren’t even on your face anymore but instead looking down at how your greedy cunt sucks him in.
„I like hearing how good you feel, so wet for me…“
Bucky drops down to your ear, your knees hooked over his strong arms as he presses his hips into yours.
he repeats the grinding he did earlier, barely pulling his hips back just to roll them back into you, the hairs at the base off him scratching against your aching clit perfectly.
“tell me how good my cock feels, princess.”
He mocks the name Steve uses for you and it only sends a shiver down your spine, and apparently makes you clamp down on him by the way he curses low in your ear. He starts a new pace, one that’s slow and deep, something surprisingly sensual to be coming from Bucky. He‘s easily remembered where that spot is inside of you, that sends you curling up off the mattress, whining and shooting your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.
„Tell me how fucking deep i am.“
You can’t do anything but moan out, your jaw dropping embarrassingly wide as you’re unable to do anything but just let your body feel. So overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re not sure you could answer him even if you really wanted to.
„That’s it, good girl, let me hear you.”
And you do, not that you wouldn’t have anyway. You let yourself get washed away in the tide of white hot that shoots through you when Bucky brings a thumb to your clit, picking up his pace slightly to fuck into your gspot perfectly and drag out your orgasm as long as he can.
Spitting out strings of curses and digging nail marks into your skin in the process.
When you finally start falling down from your high, you open your eyes to find Bucky leaned back on his haunches, stupid smirk still plastered across his face.
„Feels good to finally cum on a cock, huh?”
You think you might’ve actually answered that question, if you didn’t notice Steve now sitting at the side of the bed in some chair he picked from god knows where with his cock in his hand, pink tongue sliding across his lips as he looks back at you.
You want nothing more than to have him on top of you again, even if he was doing things intentionally befo- wait a second…
He did this… intentionally??
„Steve-“ you start to lean up but to no avail when Buckys hand pushes back at your chest.
“aht aht,” his hand slides up to the back of your neck, pressing you up into a kiss, his words full of fake offense as he speaks. „It’s unfair to leave me half finished, isn’t it?”
„Plus”, you feel his still hard cock stir inside you as he presses his hips flush against yours and grinds against you. His hands fall on either side of your head as he ducks down to nip at your collarbone, the top of his head nudging you to face your boyfriend once again.
„I think we need Stevie to listen to you scream my name a few more times before he’s really motivated to make you cum, right doll?“
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steve rogers x m!stark!reader
request: tony's adopted son who is rather calm and reserved artist type having a secret relationship w steve (reader is in his 20s)
word count: 1.9k
(gif from @chrisevansedits)
- Steve smiled and tilted his head.
- His hands rested flat in his pockets as he watched you. He was used to the way you looked when you were deeply concentrated, but it never got old. He always felt the same glow.
- He got impatient, though, and kissed your cheek from behind.
- Your shoulders jumped, and you pulled one of your earbuds out. Your face relaxed when you looked over your shoulder and saw Steve’s face close to yours. His eyelashes fluttered over his bright blue irises.
- “Hey baby,” he murmured, one of his dimples showing.
- You turned your music off and gave him a short kiss. “There you are.”
- “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting for too long.”
- “I managed, somehow.” You shrugged playfully. “But you did waste precious time. My dad’s coming over for dinner in a bit.”
- He leaned his head back and sighed. “Today of all days. The day I decide to come over.”
- “You could decide to come over any day, you know.”
- He pursed his lips and his eyes flitted down. “I’ve been busy, I…”
- “I know, I’m… I know. I was joking. Don’t feel bad.” You stood up and took both of his hands in yours. “I’m glad whenever I get to see you.” You passed your hand over his cheek, and he blushed under your admirable gaze. “It never gets old.”
- “What? Me? We already know that.”
- “Seeing you!” You grinned up at him. That small, pensive grin that made him feel naked and frozen in time. “I love you.”
- “I love you too.” That didn’t even begin to cover it. He needed you. Needed you to breathe. Sometimes the realization of how much he loved you made his chest clench, and made him feel like he was floating.
- You bit down a smile. “Do you love me enough to not be scared of ole Tony Stark?”
- Steve scoffed, but he didn’t say anything.
- He had always been wary of you, of making any advances on you
- Just as Stark had been wary of anyone you let into your life. Not only were you his son, but his foster son - his son that he had chosen, that he loved more than life itself.
- Tony didn’t have to worry about much when it came to you, though.
- You were rather reserved and down to earth.
- You were an artist; one that would rather sit in for the night and draw instead of partying and getting shitfaced. You weren’t like that to please anyone or to act unique - a lot of people referred to you as an old soul, though, which is probably why you were such a perfect match with Steve.
- You were in your twenties, anyway. Your brain had fully developed, and you were completely capable of making your own decisions. Tony knew this. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t loudly voice his opinions.
- Steve was wary when he met you, because he knew there was something that drew him towards you, and he knew a relationship with you wouldn’t be the most conventional thing.
- But after his first conversation with you, his chest felt like it had been plunged into ice cold water. His whole being had been jump started.
- You were it. It was you, or it was nothing.
- You spent the afternoon with Steve, but he left before Tony arrived
- Because of their differences, there would be hell to pay if Tony found out
- He already made passing comments (bitchy complaints) about yours and Steve’s “friendship”
- You thought you were pretty subtle, but ofc someone found out eventually
- When Sam saw you and Steve reuniting a little too excitedly after a mission in a place you thought no one would walk into, you had to scold him into not saying anything about it
- He was laughing his ass off
- You were usually reserved and quiet, so it was weird for Sam to see you kissing someone (and Steve of all people), and it was really weird for him to be nearly yelled at by you
- Tbh Steve was impressed and a little turned on lol
- Sam’s a good friend though so he didn’t say anything. No matter how bad he wanted to gossip to Bucky
- Sometimes it was awkward when you hung around the tower
- Like when you, Tony, and Steve were near each other, and you had to pretend Steve didn’t just break your headboard because he was fucking your brains out last night.
- The secret came out because Tony was being nosy
- He could tell you were distracted, acting weird
- You were at the tower, just sketching and hanging out, but Peter had stolen you away to show you how many backflips he could do in a row
- And you had left your sketchbook
- Tony couldn’t help but open it. It was like a visual diary, and he didn’t know if there would be anything interesting in there
- Some of the contents were just normal drawings, but at a certain point, a lot of the pages contained the same man… the same blond… muscly…
- Oh my God. You had been drawing Steve.
- Tony thought you had an unrequited crush on Steve
- So he would give you knowing glances when you were around Steve and you were like ????????
- Eventually you and Steve decided to talk to him about it, because you thought the glances were because he somehow knew about your relationship
- You invited him to your apartment. He was under the illusion that you were going to watch crappy reality TV and get drunk together, so he was a little shell-shocked when he saw Steve sitting on your couch with you.
- Steve was running his hands up and down his thighs, breathing deeply, and you were squeezing his shoulder. Your smile was small and loving.
- You greeted Tony, who was regarding you with a tilted head and narrowed eyebrows. He was invited to sit on the chair across from the couch.
- The coffee table separated you and Steve from him, and the space was jarring. He felt like a child whose parents were sitting him down for a serious chat.
- “Dad, you probably already know why you’re here,” you started, “seeing as you keep glancing judgmentally at us.”
- Tony crossed his arms. “I always glance judgmentally. What’s different now?”
- You inclined your head. “...I think you know.”
- Tony’s eyes flitted to look at Steve, whose face was hard and not focused on anything in particular. “Why does he look like he’s gonna pass out? And why is he at your apartment? Do you know how old he is? You shouldn't have old men in your apartment, no matter how many people are snagging up sugar daddies these days.”
- “Dad, he’s not my sugar daddy, he’s my boyfriend!” you blurted.
- Yeah. You soon found in a very loud outburst from Tony that he did not know this information.
- It was his instinct to argue about anything he didn’t like, and he really didn’t like this
- But you were more passive and didn’t like arguing, and Tony shut down your retorts with “the adult is talking” (bitch you’re in your twenties), and you couldn’t really get a word in
- And eventually you started crying. You hadn’t expected Tony to be this mad. You wanted him to see how happy you were, how much joy Steve brought into your life and vice versa. How good you were together. And this reaction was just really overwhelming
- Steve told Tony to ease up, and he rubbed your back. “I think you should leave Tony,” he said, “before you make your own son have a panic attack.”
- “I just don’t think my child should be dating someone who knew my father as a young man.”
- Okay fair but like… don’t be a cockblock.
- The tension was realllll at the tower between Steve and Tony. It was so fucking bad
- At this point everyone knew what it was about (you and Steve had decided to tell them shortly after)
- There was a period of time where Tony didn’t really talk to you and Steve because he’s a stubborn asshole
- Until Steve pulled him aside one day, his face grave. “You don’t have to like me, or approve of me. The fact is, I love your son so much that it hurts. So in all honesty, Tony, I don’t really care what you think. But (y/n) does. A lot. He feels like shit.”
- “Language,” Tony said dryly.
- Steve pursed his lips. The indent between his eyebrows made an appearance. “Please, Tony. Treat me however you want - give me the silent treatment, hold this against me for the rest of your life - whatever you want. Just don’t treat him like this. You know he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’s careful. He’s put a lot of thought and stress into this relationship and how it would affect people - affect you. Give him more credit. He’s not a dumb kid. But you’re acting like one.”
- Boom mic drop
- Tony disgruntledly knew Steve was right.
- Tony’s not good at apologizing, but he is good at buying things. So, he randomly started talking to you again like nothing happened, and asked if you needed anything
- And you meekly said, “...a new headboard?”
- His blood was fucking boiling, but he shoved it down and nodded stiffly.
- Within the week there was a new headboard set up in your bedroom
- New art supplies if you so much as broke a pencil
- Buying you food if he ever heard your stomach grumble in the slightest
- You knew what he was doing
- You told him, “As much as I appreciate the, uh, gifts, dad… All I want is for you to be nice to Steve. Or at least tolerate him and me being together. You know I’m not the happiest person… all the time… but Steve changes that. I feel complete now. Yeah, maybe he’s technically old, and maybe I wouldn’t date him if he looked his wrinkly, wrinkly, sun-spotted age… but he doesn’t. He’s really hot, actually,” you mumbled, making Tony laugh under his breath.
- “And I love him, and you can’t change that.”
- Tony sighed. He knew he couldn’t change you. You were reserved, quiet, shy, but you were a damn force to reckon with when things were serious. You weren’t the yelling type, but when you wanted something, it was like your feet were cemented to the ground.
- Things were okay after that. You guys didn’t do PDA around Tony bc he might have an aneurism 💀
- But Tony could definitely see how happy you guys made each other
- Especially how happy Steve made you
- I mean, Tony fights aliens and shit for a living. He’s seen stranger things than his son dating an old guy who also was technically not that old who he kind of hated but also worked with
- After a while, you and Steve being together were a normal part of everyone’s lives. The whole team loved how happy you made each other
- And Tony just,,, got used to it eventually. He’d rather that than lose you
- It was sort of unconventional, but it made you unbelievably happy, and that was all that mattered to him
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