#steve rogers x black!reader
Please do not read this fic if this is not your cup of tea. You have been warned, by clicking on Keep Reading means you have understood the warning. I am not responsible for your content consumption.
Warnings - 18+ Dark Steve Rogers
You moved to the suburbs to get away from hustle and bustle of the city but when Steve Rogers moves into your neighborhood he sets his eyes on you.
You were Steve Rogers’ neighbor, Captain America was your neighbor and you didn’t care. You lived in your own little bubble. You rarely interacted with the guy, he was usually surrounded by other neighbors in any meeting, party, or any other gathering that was there in your neighborhood.
Steve’s eyes fell on you walking towards Jake’s yard with cake in your hand for the potluck, he forgot how to breathe for a moment. You looked stunning in the Burgundy lace dress, you looked like heaven and hell combined. And you were the only person who didn’t put him on the mantle, you never acted like a groupie meanwhile even married women gave him bedroom eyes when their husbands didn’t look. You were an exception.
You felt eyes on you when you looked up, you saw the infamous Steve Rogers – Captain America, a man out of his time. You looked smiled tightly, trying to keep it from faltering, trying to shrug off the leering. You were talking to Selena and Nina, both of them were gushing how handsome and muscular Steve looked. You just didn’t see any appeal, he just wasn’t your type, you liked geek guys, someone like you.
You mingled for an hour and then your social batteries ran out therefore you decided to go back to your home. You finally had been living in suburbs after hectic years of having a city apartment. Suburbs were calm, something you deeply appreciated. Most of your neighbors were astonished to learn that you were single since most of the people who move to suburbs are families and couples. When Steve Rogers moved in next door, all the attention shifted on him, frequent Avengers visit only added to the spotlight, which you were thankful, because your other neighbors relentlessly tried to set you up with their colleagues, friends, or relatives.
Everyone around you wanted to befriend Captain America and his colleagues but not you. You could sense the danger in them, they were not mere mortals, they were super-soldiers, gods, spies, and all that jazz. They had deep reach within the government sector and private sector.
Steve wanted you and he had made you his mission, he started following you around. He knew more about you than you even you knew about yourself. He had to thank Tony Stark for that. You became his obsession. He just needed leverage over you, if he couldn’t find one, he would surely create one for you.
Let me know if you like it :)
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idk is Steve is more an edging guy or an overstim guy... thoughts? 😏
If you’ve been a good little girl for the Captain, Steve is willing to overstimulate you, give you all the orgasms you can ask for.
It could from riding his thigh, riding his fingers, riding his mouth, or riding his dick. But you are going to cum for him and cum for him often.
Now if you’ve been a bad brat, Steve’s edging you
Just nothing but straight denial no matter how much you beg
But the worst is when he uses your rose and gets you sofuckingclose but still denied.
“Are you going to be good for me?”
Then you finally get to cum, squirting all over Steve
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oh i wanna give him a ride so bad 🤤
But can we talk about how Steve loves to see you ride him
Word count: drabble
Warnings: kinda NSFW thots below. Soooo mild. Also smut, begging kink, crying kink, overstimulation kink, marking kink and creampie kink. Hint o’ cockwarming. Mild ya’ll. No minors. 18+only.
A/N: Super early sinday drabble. Written on my phone, unbeta’d. As always don't copy, translate or repost my work. I love comments, likes and reblogs!!!
The feel of your snug pussy wrapped around him so damn tight makes his eyes wanna roll back in his head. That thought has distracted him all damn day because he can only think about how warm and slick and tight you are for him, always so fucking tight, and all he wants to do is bury his cock deep inside you and stay there.
Feel you clench and throb around him until you cum. Hear those breathy little moans in his ear, his name strangled on your tongue when you shatter.
You’re fucking distracting him, and you’re not even home yet. So when you finally stroll in the house looking so pretty and sweet, he strips you naked before your bag hits the floor. Steve knows he won’t make it to the bedroom, he barely makes it to the dining room, blindly grabbing a chair as he kisses you. Your sweet taste exploding on his tongue as he deepens the kiss. He pushes down his sweatpants as his lips slot over yours.
You straddle his thick hair covered thighs, grab his shoulders. An air of needy desperation passes between you. He has one large hand on your waist and the other gripping his cock and he’s saying a silent prayer that he doesn’t bust the second he slides into your warm wet pussy.
He glances down and fuck sweetheart, you’re dripping all over him, your slick coating the inside of your soft thighs, yeah he makes another silent prayer that you cum quick because he’s not going to last long.
He’ll tease you, tapping his cock on your clit until you’re crying, needing real friction on your bundle of nerves, but it’s only to hide how fucking desperate he is for you.
Hoping you don’t hear the tremble in his voice when he asks if you’re earned it, if you’ve been good enough because only good girls get his cock.
And the way you nod has his heart racing and his cock throbbing against his palms as he watches the tears streak down your pretty face, your glossy eyes focused on his lips as you beg him.
Cries of please Steve, please, you’ve been so good for him, please Sir is enough to set him off, unleashing his possessive nature. Because fuck you are his good girl, his-all his. You belong to him. It may be possessive and only fashioned, but he doesn’t care, he’ll mark every inch of your body because you belong to him and everyone needs to know it.
He takes his cock and pushes it through your silky folds until he finds your slit and fuck he can feel the way you’re pulsating and clenching down, your pussy needs to be stretched and filled by him.
His fingers dig into your waist, a bruising grip that’ll leave marks tomorrow, and he thrusts up, up, up into your tight wet heat. You both gasp as he pushes into your cunt, that first stretch always makes your stomach tighten, your walls fluttering around his swollen tip.
Any other time he would ease into you inch by inch, letting you adjust but Steve has to be inside you now, right fucking now he growls subconsciously as he pulls you down over his thick, long cock, he twitches in you, precum spilling out over your velvety walls as another gasp, so breathy, gravelly, and loud it’s almost a moan, rushes past his lips and you keen at the sound of him moaning because of you.
And damn, this is just what he needed.
He grabs your waist, his thumbs pressing into your belly and he cants his back, his hooded eyes drinking in you. “Show me how bad you want it, sweetheart.”
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, fighting the urge to rail you senseless when you circle your hips, your tight walls sliding over his cock as you find your rhythm. Fuck, fuck, sweetheart mumbled under his breath, that’s my girl.
You clutch his broad shoulders and you snap your hips down, taking him deep in you, pleasure bursting in you, intense sultry heat building as you grind down, taking each veiny thick ridge inside you. It feels so incredible your mouth falls open in a wordless scream, you can’t take it but you can’t stop, you can’t, not with you getting closer to the edge of bliss, just a little more, you need a little more. Your hands slip over his sweat-slicked shoulder as you bounce on him, your nails rake down his muscular back.
Steve keeps his grip on your waist, telling you the filthiest things he’s going to do to your body if you come before he says you can. You don’t know how badly he wants you to disobey because he just needs a reason to ruin your tight little holes. Go on sweetheart, I dare you.
Before you can open your mouth to beg him to let you cum, his thumb is rolling over your clit, back and forth, over and over and you clench down so hard he can't pull out, your Please can I ends on a choked wail as you jerk in his hold, your orgasm slamming into you, powerful and abrupt, your toes curl and a searing white heat floods your body as you cum.
Steve grits his teeth, holding back his climax, he thought he wanted you to shatter quickly so he could fill you with his cum but with your pussy milking his cock and you chanting his name, he’s changed his mind.
He wants you to cum again.
He needs to feel your walls spasm around his cock as he splits you in two. He needs more than he needs his own release. And you're such a good girl that you're going to give him what he needs.
Before you can take a breath, he’s holding you in place and fucking up into your sensitive cunt. Oh god, oh god, you can’t but Steve assures you can and you will, his breathless laughter in your ear as he shifts his hips back. “You will, sweetheart.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sob into his shoulder as he hits something in you that has your back arching and you snap, a dull roar ringing in your ears as pleasure curls through your veins until you bite down on his salt-tinged skin with a broken cry.
Steve doesn’t stop even when you go limp, your hoarse grunts in response to his “just one more, there you go sweetheart, give me one more” as he fucks your swollen cunt driving him on until you can only whimper, your head lolling on his chest with each deep thrust.
Now, this, you cockdrunk and fucked senseless, this is what he needed. He grabs your ass grinding so deep his pelvis brushes over your clit and his ego implodes when he feels you spasm again."Thatta girl," kissed on your swollen lip.
The chair bowing and creaking under the force of his thrusts, his balls tightening as he finally lets himself go, ropes of hot cum filling your sore cunt, warmth spreading in your belly.
“Good girl,” groaned in your ears as frantic his pace slows to languid thrusts. “Did so good for me, ‘m so proud of you, sweetheart.”
He chuckles at your incoherent response, your eyes fluttering shut. Steve kisses your forehead, standing up, carrying you as if you weigh nothing, and walks into the living room, settling on the couch, adjusting your body over his, a possessive hand tapping your ass lightly as you sleep.
Steve smiles up at the ceiling, his mind finally at ease now that he has you where you belong.
And he contemplates your ‘punishment’ for coming without his permission.
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—lay me in the tall-grown grass in a shallow grave; steve rogers & bucky barnes
pairing: steve rogers x black!reader x bucky barnes
word count: 14175
warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, threesome, throat fucking, anal sex, butt stuff, face slapping, hand jobs, blow jobs, male masturbation, size kink, degradation, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, cum play, double penetration
squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo C5: bucky/steve ; @steverogersbingo B1: the serum enhances his senses beyond measure ; @star-spangled-bingo G1: "well, home is home, you know"
request: "there's no way anyone is that innocent" + breeding kink + praise kink
author note: so, this is a month overdue but this is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 2 years of darkness challenge! this kicked my ass, but it finally came together thanks to some porn (please familiarize yourselves with owen grey and small hands) and @tropicalcap beautiful imagination. please enjoy :)
line divider by @whimsicalrogers ; title inspired by lord huron long lost
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Steve tosses the two slices of wood towards the rest of the pile and places a new log on the tree stump in front of him. The sun beats down on his bare back, sweat dripping from his brow, down his nose, slipping right off the tip and splatting on the wood underneath him. He shakes his head slightly and then wipes at his forehead out of irritation with the back of his hand to get the long blonde strands of hair out of his face.
Hot air pushes out of his mouth before he heaves the axe back into the air, his right hand sliding down the handle as the blade slices through the air. Thwack. The wood splinters in two, throwing small, broken pieces into the air as the halves fall to the ground. He bends to pick them up, tosses them into the pile and starts all over again with a new log.
There’s movement in the corner of his eye— an ornery Bucky Barnes moving past, pulling a tattered old shirt over his head as he heads towards the stream. He had a long night. Nightmares filled with old ghosts. The countless faces and screams of his victims. A rather harrowing fight with Steve after Bucky shot up out of his bed, unfamiliar with his surroundings. Unfamiliar with Steve. Now they have a broken kitchen table, two chairs— each with a random amount of legs— four busted doors, and now he’s got to figure out how to board up the windows.
Bucky seems better this morning, quiet, but that’s not unusual— even apologized over his bowl of corn flakes for slipping the night before. Not that it’s his fault, and Steve would never blame him, but getting rid of the seventy year HYDRA influence is proving to be harder than what he thought.
“I thought you wanted to cut your hair?” Steve calls, cutting his eyes towards the rotting tree stump as Bucky sheds out of his pants.
Steve tosses his eyes back in time to catch Bucky shrug before he steps into the cool water, hissing soft at the abrupt temperature change, “I’m not rushing,” Steve answers quick, “It’s just… we can’t go around looking like Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes anymore.”
“America’s golden boy and his unstable, untrustworthy, can’t be rehabilitated, murder buddy, you mean?”
Steve places a hand on his hip, eyes furrowing as he watches Bucky float aimlessly in the water, blinking slow towards the sky, “That’s not who you are, Buck.”
“That’s exactly who I am,” Bucky bites back, cutting his eyes back to Steve, “No matter how bad you want to, you can’t—” Bucky’s words stick in his throat when Steve turns away abruptly, then holds up his hand to silence him, “What is it?”
Steve turns his head slightly, listening. Bucky stands, pushing the water off of his head as he runs his hands over his hair, “What is it?”
Steve takes a breath, something sweet— perfume— filling his nose, “Someone’s here.”
“Just one,” Steve mumbles, his breaths getting deeper as the smell intensifies, “But it’s not—”
“A couple of miles, maybe three or four,” he reaches out, catching Bucky by the arm as he rushes by, “Buck, wait.”
“I can take one guy, Steve. I just don’t want to do it naked.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s not someone from the Government.”
Bucky huffs, clenching his jaw as he stares at Steve, “HYDRA then?”
All Steve can do is shake his head, “HYDRA doesn’t wear perfume.”
You squint as you drive slow, pinching the handwritten directions between your fingers and the steering wheel. The paperweight you call an iphone lost its wifi connection hours ago, and then actually died several miles back, so it’s just you, a sheet of paper with half ass instructions scribbled on it, and your car venturing down a gravel, overgrown road. You’ve lost count how many times you’ve literally prayed to every God you know that you don’t get a flat— because, you know, that happens to stupid girls like you that just take off without telling a soul you’re leaving.
The radio fades in and out as you go, more static than music. Quick eyes dart around from side to side, finding nothing more than the lush of trees and grass and a few pops of color from random wildflowers. A frazzled mind screams at you. This is crazy, you’re crazy… but you dull the voice and just grip the wheel harder. You blink, cutting your eyes to the passenger seat, the deed to your new home staring back at you.
You tear your eyes away, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you press numb fingers into your temple and rest your elbow on the door. Funerals always made you queasy, no matter whose it was. This one happened to be for a long lost aunt, who you knew nothing about but she somehow knew a lot about you. Her love for you, a child she never laid eyes on physically, shown through every word she wrote in her will.
To my beloved niece. I leave the oldest, most precious heirloom in our history. The very house where our lineage began some two hundred years ago. Take care of it, thrive in it, let it inspire you. For you are more than you’ll ever know. Aunt Bea.
For you are more than you’ll ever know
Tears sting the backs of your eyes just having the words flit around in your brain again. With the backs of your fingers, you rub your lips trying to fight the urge to cry. The gravel road and trees in front of you go blurry as you tighten your hand on the wheel. You just need to get there. Maybe fix it up a bit, make it yours, start a garden. Become one with nature… because you honestly can’t handle having life run you over anymore and you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired all the time.
If you ever needed a reset button, it’s now and this house is it.
There’s a slight turn in the road. You take it slowly and then, just like it was dropped out of the sky, there it is. Home.
Long, green vines slither up the sides, the grass and wildflowers probably as high as your hip. An old, weathered rocking chair sits in the corner of the porch, a small flower pot with a long dead plant right next to the door. The roof a little lopsided, weighed down underneath an overgrown tree, and two of the three steps leading to the porch look to be rotted, but a smile covers your face anyway as you stare out of the windshield.
There’s a bond between you and this old house already. A strength is here, a warmth— the air even smells sweeter as you exit your little Volvo. Generation after generation of your family have walked in this grass, worked this land, and now it’s all yours. Even though you don’t know these people, a need to make them proud fills your chest.
You grab your suitcase and move to the front porch, barely navigating the rotten steps before your high heel gets stuck in a hole in one of the boards. Who needs four inch heels out in the woods anyway. The boards on the porch creek and squeak as you move towards the front door, more of them needing to be replaced than not.
One, two, three jams of your hip against the door later, and you’re finally inside. Stagnant dust fills the air from all of the new movement, but you breathe a sigh of relief. The inside is definitely in better shape than the outside. White sheets cover the furniture, and beneath a layer of dust is brand new wood flooring. The kitchen has a new sink, and a relatively in shape refrigerator. A toaster still in the box sits atop the granite countertop.
Great uncle Ernest was busy when this was all his.
You run your fingers over the countertop as you move towards the back door just off to the right of the refrigerator. As you pull it open, the top hinge gives, separating from the rotting door frame, sending rusted nails and the hinge itself to the floor. A loud thud sounds through the house when the bottom of the door slams against the floor, leaving you to jump back and shout, clutching your chest all the while.
Alright, so great uncle Earnest didn’t get as far in with the renovations as he’d planned. Nothing you can’t handle.
You push through the screen door (where most of the screen is missing) and find yourself on an uneven, boards missing back porch. With a hop, skip, and a jump for fear of falling straight through, you’re standing in the backyard, pulling off your pumps so you can feel the dirt and grass. You blink slow, hands on your hips, staring back at your fixer upper, the reality of it all starting to swirl.
It’s gonna take a lot— money, time, effort— to get this place livable after sitting vacant for almost five years. You’re also no handyman. How the fuck do you replace a door? Where do you get a door? Does Amazon even deliver this far out?
Heavy hands fall to your sides as you let out a huff. Don’t start, you chide yourself, you wanted a sign and you got one. Take that shit and quit complaining.
Plus, it’s Amazon. They deliver everywhere.
The rush of water starts to fill your ears, fading in as you start to pay attention to the chirps of birds and buzzes of little insects. Bare, manicured feet start stepping through the wild, tall grass, black French tipped fingers brushing it off to the side as you pass through.
Low hanging branches scrape along your head, old apples from a ripening, unattended apple tree litter the ground as you step into damp dirt. Whatever thoughts you had mere moments before, fuck off back into the depths of your brain as your eyes settle on the rushing stream just a few feet away. The water is clear, rippling and burbling, little green and blue fish swimming along.
The earth fills your nose, the grass, the dirt, the water— you’ll learn how to fish. You’ll learn how to install a door, and how to rip up old slats, and replace broken windows.
Because you’re supposed to be here.
Two sets of blue eyes peer through leaves and broken branches, Bucky standing behind Steve as they gaze.
“You seen her out here before?”
Steve shakes his head soft, eyes trailing down your frame as you stand at the water's edge, “No. I didn’t even know there was a house down this far,” He blinks again, “It’s hidden,” the words hesitate, “By um, by all the trees.”
Bucky slides his eyes to the back of Steve’s head before moving up beside him. He inhales deep, pulling in the sweet rose scent of your perfume, the soft undertones of vanilla and… strawberry? Maybe a concoction of body wash and body butter. It’s enticing, sending him right back to 1943. Dorothy… Dolores… Dot… smelled just like you. Hell, he can still hear that cute little giggle, feel those soft tits pressed right up against his chest as his big hands hugged those hips while she danced.
He knows Steve smells it too— if not more of you. Steve can probably hear your heart beating. Maybe smell the lingering traces of a man; cologne, aftershave, or just the musk of him.
Bucky cuts his eyes towards Steve again and just knows Steve can smell your pretty, sweet little cunt. Smell your slick— can practically taste it on the tip of his tongue. Smell the smallest bit of perspiration on your skin as the sun beats down on you out here. Hear you swallow behind those plump, mauve colored lips.
It’s moments like these that make Bucky jealous. He’d take Steve’s perfected serum over his clipped poison any day.
Then his mind really goes, but that’s nothing new for Bucky. Once a flirt, always a flirt— no matter how much HYDRA is in him. The soft, thick meat of your hips in his calloused hands. Pathetic whimpers stuffing his ears. Nipples hard and piqued as he prods at them. That mouth, God that pretty mouth stretched wide around his cock, tears leaking down your cheeks as you slurp him up.
“Don’t start,” a quick clap on the back brings Bucky back, “Come on, Buck.”
Bucky watches Steve turn and take a few steps before he glances back across the stream, blinking at you as you swish your hand back and forth in the water. Knees drawn into your chest, head lolled just to the side, eyes sad and lost.
His cock twitches in his pants.
Steve’s hushed voice breaks through the rushing water and the rustling leaves again, and Bucky tears his eyes away, turning on his heel, “I’m comin, alright? Stow the mom voice.”
“We have to stay to ourselves if this is gonna work.”
“Did I say anything?” Bucky answers quick.
Steve chuckles, pushing a wild branch out of his way as they walk side by side, “You didn’t have to. I saw how you were looking at her.”
“Yeah well,” Bucky starts, eyes darting back and forth as his mind moves back to you, “She’s gonna need help fixing that place up,” he shrugs a few seconds later, feeling Steve’s eyes on the side of his face, “She is, you saw the roof— that back porch.”
“I know she smelled good, Steve. What I could get was incredible, so I know you got every last little sublime detail.”
Steve’s eyes drift, the greens of the grass and leaves, the blue of the sky, the white of the sun rays all blur together as Bucky’s words fade. You’re sweet. Delicate. Soft and ripe— ready for anything, anyone to just take you away. Mark you. Own you.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, scoffing as a smirk lingers on his lips, “You never did like to share, asshole.”
“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It’s been a long time for Steve. Too many days to count, which turned into months, turned to years. He was good at ignoring it at first. Took him years to not let all the sounds, the smells, the visuals overwhelm him— going from barely able to see his own hand in front of his face to correctly identifying a semi-familiar face three hundred feet away in a crowd was… a lot. But he dealt with it over time. The sights, the sounds…
Every now and again though, a smell will get him. Make him weak in the knees. Keep him up at night— and he’ll probably be doing a lot of that tonight. Staying up, that is. Trying not to jerk his cock to the lingering smell of you. To smooth brown skin and plump lips. Long, manicured fingers. Gentle, round eyes. Steve licks his dry lips and tastes the salt on your skin— the little bead of sweat that slipped down your neck and into your cleavage.
“She looks young,” Steve murmurs, clearing his throat.
Bucky rolls his eyes, lips curling into a knowing smile, “Uh huh.”
“She does,” Steve counters quick, “She probably doesn’t even know who we are,” Bucky opens his mouth but Steve cuts him off, “Like, not old enough to remember us.”
Bucky drops his head back, widening his eyes, “Are you stupid? Or are you dumb? You broke me out of a federal prison six months ago, you’d have to be living under a rock to not—”
Steve whips around suddenly, eyes scanning the brush as he gets a whiff of roses and strawberries. Bucky follows suit, perking up as water splashes, leaves crunching with hurried footsteps. Out of habit, he clenches his fists, rolling his shoulders as the silver metal plates on his arm shift.
There’s muffled cursing, a quick squeal and then within the blink of an eye, you’re stumbling out in front of them, wiping at your forehead roughly as you try to find your footing.
“Oh,” you gasp, stopping short when you find two pairs of eyes trained stiffly on you, “Oh, uh, hi,” you smile bright, but quick, the gesture leaving your face as the two men shift their eyes towards each other before returning their gazes to you, “Um, sorry, I heard voices. I, uh,”
“Hi,” Bucky pipes up, offering a soft smile, “I’m Bucky, this is Steve.”
Steve rolls his eyes, his lips parting before they purse as he stares over at the Winter idiot. It’s amazing, really. Six hours ago, Bucky was hurling knives at Steve’s face and reminding him that he is his mission. Put a pretty girl in front of him, he’s a goddamn teddy bear.
You push out a breath, the smile returning to your face, “Hi Bucky, Steve. This is probably really strange,” you laugh, “But um, do you think you could help me? Really quick?” you turn slightly, pointing your thumb over your shoulder, “My backdoor kind of, uh, fell off. Could one of you help me lift it back into place?”
Steve’s mouth opens, fully intent on having words come out of it but all he can do is blink— and then snap his lips closed again. Bucky cuts his eyes towards him. Seventy years and two hundred pounds of FDA approved American meat later, and he still can’t talk to women.
“Sure thing,” a smile nearly splits Bucky’s face in two, “Lead the way.”
You keep your hands wrangled within one another, right thumb pressed into your left palm, rubbing gently as you walk ahead of these two strange men. If your mother could only see you now— inviting two strangers right to your back door. Two strange men that you found walking randomly in the woods. They make slasher films that start out just like this. Dumbass.
But it’s too late now, as you’ve begun to cross the stream— in your heels, cuz, you know, you completely thought this through— and your modest shithole of a cabin in view. You step cautiously into the water, placing one foot slowly in front of the other, hands held out to your sides to balance yourself, but of course—
You stumble, life flashing before your eyes as you start to fall sideways. Before you have a chance to hit the water, there’s a silver hand on your hip, and then another wrapped around your right bicep, keeping you upright and dry.
“I gotcha, I gotcha,” Bucky says, holding you still for a second, “Y’okay, sweetheart?”
With a quick glance over your shoulder and a nervous smile, you nod, “Yeah, th-thanks. This probably wasn’t the best choice of shoes.”
“No… probably not,” he chuckles, “Let me help you across.”
That big hand stays on your hip, the other sliding down your arm before it too lands a little higher up of your waist. You have to clear your throat and blink multiple times to try and focus on getting across the water and not on his firm, yet incredibly gentle grip. His metal fingers flex just a little, tightening, digging just a bit into your skin and hip, before they relax. When you get to the bank, his flesh hand caresses your elbow, holding it gently as he extends his arm to help you up into the grass.
A warmth spreads through your arm and down your body as you walk through the grass. On top of quitting your job and breaking your lease on a whim, you also have not been touched by a man in… let’s not get into that, okay? you gripe at yourself, we’ll work on that later.
“So, umm, yeah,” laughing nervously, you point towards the door, which has now completely fallen off the second and third hinges and laying flat on the floor, “Fuck, it wasn’t like that when I came out here. It was… fuck.”
Steve steps past you and moves just inside the door, eyes on the frame. He reaches up and runs his hand down the rotted wood, his red plaid button down lifting with the motion— exposing a sliver of skin. You instantly take a breath, a slow, deep one before dragging your bottom lip between your teeth. Eager eyes find a smattering of hair, just under his belly button as he reaches higher, shirt creeping up even further as he murmurs more to himself than anyone else.
“Wood’s rotted, so it won’t stay for long, but we can put it up for you for the night at least,” he says after a few moments, his eyes still moving up and down the side jamb, “If you don’t mind us ripping up your back porch, that is.”
You snap your eyes up to his, your brain playing catch up with the words, “Oh, um, why… exactly do you have to rip up the porch?”
“We can take a plank or two from the deck,” Bucky starts, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little, testing the old wood as he eyes it, “and nail ‘em into the rotted piece. Then screw the door into that until you can replace the whole thing.”
You nod, smiling again, “Sure, thanks. I’m planning on redoing the deck anyway. Do you need—” before you can get the words out, Bucky bends, grabbing the end of a random plank with his metal arm. With one swift yank, nails are flying, plopping in the grass as he rips it up and hands it to Steve, “ — a hammer?”
He winks at you, and your stupid stomach flutters, “I got it, honey.”
It’s been too long. The mere sentiments honey and sweetheart have you shaking. Touch starved and praise deprived. What a combo.
“I could use the hammer though,” Steve says, offering a smile, “Or a drill.”
“Right, yeah,” mumbling as you turn on your heel, “One sec.”
After rifling through a few drawers and a supply closet, you find a dead drill but also a pack of batteries, so you hand them over and lean against the fridge to watch. Fingertips prod at your bottom lip slowly as the two men get to work, Bucky deciding to rip a chunk of the rotted wood of the door jamb with his flesh hand this time. The sight makes you take another breath. It’s just so… yeah.
The two of them bicker, playfully, each thinking they know something more about installing a door than the other. Bucky makes another trip to the deck to rip up another board, breaking the damn thing over his knee like it’s a spaghetti noodle to get it to the size Steve needs. Your eyes start to drift again, finding more sun tanned skin as they reach and stretch and bend. Bucky’s tank top leaves little to the imagination— his deltoids and biceps flexing with each little movement.
Veins in Steve’s mammoth hands push up hard against his skin as he drills a repurposed board into the door frame. The arm of his shirt rides up, exposing a forearm covered in dark blonde hair. There you find another vein, prodding against his skin, creeping up his arm.
He’s flushed a little, Steve, his skin fairer than Bucky’s. You can see the red blooming across the top of his chest, across his collar bones, moving up his neck where it disappears into the thick beard on his chin and cheeks— it looks so soft. His beard. Your fingers start to itch, just wanting to feel it.
Bucky’s is lighter. More than stubble, but not a full grown creature just yet. It highlights his sharp jawline and chin; his lips. A little chapped, but pink and full for a man.
“Okay,” Steve huffs, the puff of air pushing his long hair out of his face, “That should do it. It’ll hold until you can get the whole jamb replaced.”
You push away from the fridge, hands and fingers intertwined because their mere presence makes you stupid, “Thank you so much. I wish I had something to offer you, like food or… something, for your help.”
“Oh no, that’s okay,” Steve smiles, running his hand through his hair, “Well, we better—”
“Are you out here all by yourself?” Bucky cuts in, glancing around the kitchen before taking a few more steps inside.
“Yes. I just inherited this place from my great aunt.”
“She passed?” you nod, “Sorry to hear that,” the soft in Bucky’s voice sends a ripple up your spine, “So, you’re gonna renovate this place by yourself? That’s a lot of work by the looks of it.”
You laugh, “Don’t remind me. But, uh, yeah, I’m gonna tackle it all by myself, unless Amazon can deliver a handyman and an electrician.”
“I don’t know about all that,” he chuckles, “but Steve and I can help— if you want, that is. We’re not doing much these days.”
Both you and Steve stare at him like he’s suddenly sprouted another head, “Oh no, no, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that. There’s so much to do and I’m sure you two have more important things to do than help me.”
With a shrug and a smirk, Bucky answers simply, “We don’t,” he turns his head, smiles wide at Steve, “Right bud?”
Bud. Steve could fucking kill him, “Right. It’d be our pleasure.”
“If it makes you feel better,” Bucky says, reaching out as he passes by you, letting his fingertips lightly brush along your forearm, “You can make us dinner when we’re finished.”
Bucky winks at you again and it takes every ounce of strength to stay on your feet. You open your mouth to speak, but kinda like Steve when you stumbled out in front of them, you can’t seem to find any words.
“We’ll be by tomorrow, okay? We’ll take you into town, get some supplies. But if you need us before then, we’re just a couple miles down the road— just follow the bend,” they both step out onto the back porch with you stopping just at the door, “Or you and those heels of yours can venture across the stream again. It’s a straight shot from there.”
You offer a weak smile and lift your hand as they move across the backyard, “Thank you.”
Bucky tosses another smile over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow, sugar.”
God, you’re in trouble.
Steve rolls over hard, slams his head back into the pillow as he pushes out a hot breath. Tired eyes blink slow up at the ceiling, focusing on nothing at all as his mind wanders. The air is still, the heat still suffocating even in the dead of night. The fan spins slow. The wispy, old curtains covering his open window shift with a random, soft breeze. Crickets chirp. Water ripples in the distance, an animal moves through the sun dried leaves.
He blinks again and there you are, right in front of his eyes. You’ve got to be the sweetest little thing to cross his path in what feels like forever. The shampoo and body butter weren’t enough to drown out the smell of you. Heady. Thick. So feminine. His eyelids get heavy, slip closed as he lifts his hips from the mattress, adjusting a bit, having to take a deep breath.
Steve licks his lips again as thoughts of his hands grazing over your naked thighs, squeezing gently as your teeth dig into your bottom lip fill his head. The pads of his fingers find that little wet spot on your silk panties, tease your slit and folds through the material. You spread those legs for him with a little more coaxing from him, your back pressed against his chest, head lolling on his shoulder as his lips skip along your exposed neck.
A moan chokes in Steve’s throat when he palms himself, already rigid from the fleeting thoughts. Thick fingers wrap around his girth, squeeze the base before he tugs upward, real slow, all the way to the tip as he imagines how soft your cunt is. How wet. Warm. How he’d push two fingers in, stopping as you tense— squeal. Tits jiggling when you jump and gasp when he adds a third.
“Shit,” he huffs, the innate urge to scold himself pausing his hand.
But it’s too late for all that now, cock standing tall, a blush of red creeping across his thighs and up his neck. Stomach going tight as his flesh warms at his touch.
He wishes it were yours— the touch.
He’d finger fuck you real slow, right there on that back porch of yours. One of your small hands wrapped around the back of his neck, the other holding his forearm, nails digging into his skin as your hips roll into his fingers and cock.
Blue eyes pop back open as he rolls to the side, pushing his hand between the mattress and box spring to pull out a small bottle of lube. Bucky can’t mind his fucking business nowadays… he also never puts shit back where he found it and doesn’t understand the saying a dollop will do ya, so, this bottle of water based lube will stay hidden between the mattress and box spring.
They’ve been on the run for almost six months, Steve’ll be damned if a trip to a sex store gets them caught now.
A soft click breaks the silence, but Steve hesitates anyway. Bucky’s serum may not have enhanced his senses to the same hypersensitive degree as Steve’s, but the fucker can still hear a pin drop on a carpeted floor while a radio plays in the background.
The room temperature gel squirts easy in his hand, starts to warm as soon as Steve closes his mammoth palm around his hot cock, sending another ripple right down his spine. Hips start to rock as he finds a rhythm. Up, down, up, down. Fingertips sweeping over his wet tip before dragging back down to his stomach. He ruts up into his palm, stomach and balls tight as he pushes out a heavy breath.
Steve, you rasp, heady and thick, Steve, please baby. Fuck me, Steve.
A thick breath hitches in his throat as he imagines the words tripping off your tongue; so desperate and needy. A quick spurt of silk wets his cock head, dribbles down before his palm catches it. A tight, slow tug smearing it along his length as he fucks up into the canal of his hand again.
Free fingers slip down his side, find his strung up balls, heavy and swollen. He rolls them between his fingers, squeezes, imagines you grinding that perfect ass against his hard cock before reaching back to grab him. Begging him.
Steve. Fill me up. Stuff me full, baby. Please.
And he would— stuff you full. He’d ruck that black skirt right up over your hips, rip that thong in two. Teeth would find your earlobe, eager hands in your top, squeezing those perky, round, full tits as his cock head drags through wet folds— teases your slit.
Would he slam into you right away? Just as desperate as you are for it. Wanting to feel soft, hot muscles clamp around him. Or, would he sink in? Slow and steady, making you take him inch by inch. Squeaking and groaning all the while, fingernails dug into his thighs, clipped, broken, breathy words falling from wet lips and floating away with the breeze.
He’d grab a fistful of your wild hair, real tight. Yank your head back when you’ve taken every bit of his cock, ass flat against his stomach. Call you his favorite little dumb baby. Tell you how greedy your cunt is, how only he can satisfy that slutty hole. Kiss you hard and sloppy as you nod quick, murmuring and burbling— totally agreeable to each and every whim of his.
Yeah. That’s how he’d do it. Push in real slow, make you whine for it and tell him how much you need him. Then he’d slam into you. Not waiting for you to catch your breath. Not allowing you to adjust. He’d keep his grip tight on your hair, craning your neck back until he can almost see your eyes rolled up in the back of your head.
Steve’s chest is tight, his heartbeat in his throat, the rush of blood in his ears as he pumps his cock faster. The curl of his palm constricts to mimic the feel of you— wet, tense muscles enveloping him. He breathes in deep and the rose and strawberry is back in his nostrils. The faint hint of vanilla, a tinge of sweat. The sound of your skin slapping against his. The feel of your hips, your soft sides, thick nipples in his hands.
He wants them between his teeth, those pretty brown nipples. Wants to tease them with the tip of his tongue, while a lazy, long leg of yours is thrown over his hip— in the kitchen, up against the fridge.
Fuck. Maybe you’re a sensitive little thing. Maybe just him sucking your tits can make you come. His big hand shoved down the front of your open jean shorts, the pads of his fingers just barely brushing over your clit. Your hips rocking hard, trying to catch a feel against his hard thigh between your legs. Head thrown back, fingers in his hair. His name falling off your pretty lips, all flustered and stupid drunk off lust.
His hips flex once more and he’s tipped over the edge, long, hot strings of thick silk spurting. Teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to stifle his groans as he comes, wave after wave rolling through. It splatters on his stomach, rolls down the side of his cock and over his fingers as they continue their strokes, up and down, up and down, up and down. Squeezing, pads teasing a sensitive tip.
He pulls on his balls, hips rolling up into his hand as he groans a little louder, each one punctuated with another spurt. Quick flashes of broken images— your sweet mouth, naked tits, full, meaty hips, ass bouncing— dance before his eyes as he drains himself. He tips his head back, pushes the top of his head into the pillow as his mouth hangs. Cock now overly sensitive, each sweep making him shiver but he doesn’t want to stop. It’s too good— you’re too good and sweet.
The body is always weaker than the mind and Steve knows a thing or two about a weak body. It gives out before his visions of you, slamming him back down to the mattress, hips and hands slowing until they both stop. Breath heavy and labored, head rolled to the side, a hand slapping into the middle of his chest. He’s a mess, sticky and wet, but the relaxation that washes through him is unmatched.
A knock on the wall sounds seconds later, “Hey pervert, you finished?”
“No dummy, I’m trying to fuck me. Gimme the lube.”
It’s hot, and in more ways than one, but that’s not the only reason you’re having trouble concentrating on getting these hydrangeas in the dirt. It’s been two days of watching two men basically build you a new home. T shirts have come off, pants have sagged embarrassingly (for you) low. All the hammering and screwing, the light little curses that fall their lips making your brain go all… well, dumb.
And they’re both impossibly nice. Bucky with his sure thing, sugar. I got it honey, no problem. Steve and his yes ma’am. Here, let me get this outta the way. Need anything else? Sure, it may seem like just having simple manners to some, but to you, who’s been a welcome mat for any and every asshole that’s looked in your direction, it’s all about to make you combust.
You’ve purposefully kept your distance. Try to keep your eyes to yourself, put at least six feet between your body and their bodies when moving around them, but it’s really no use. Just having them here, in your space— the natural smell of man lingering in the air even after they’ve left, and God has it been a long time since you’ve been immersed in that smell— has cast a spell. A spell that forces your hand down your pants more often than not. Prunes. Your fingers are prunes.
Against your better judgement, you blink up from the flower bed, searching for a certain blonde eye candy. Steve is on the opposite end of the front porch, ripping up a rotted, but still two inch or more thick board with nothing else but his hands. Snaps it in half like a twig, like it’s nothing, and tosses the pieces into a pile behind him. He takes a second before grabbing one of the new boards and throws his head back, runs his fingers through his hair, shaking it gently back and forth.
A bead of sweat rolls down his chest, right between those two beautiful, sculpted tits of his and travels down his abs, absorbing into the tuft of dark blonde hair just below his belly button. There’s more veins. So, so many veins, pumping hot blood throughout his six foot something, two hundred plus pounds.
Steve then pushes a hand around the back of his neck, rubbing gently as he tilts his head towards the sky. Lips parted, long, dark eyelashes spread out over rosy cheeks. Then you’re thinking about teeth, your teeth, sinking into that thick neck. Sucking that hot blood to the surface, marking him up. Hips rolling into his, cunt stuffed with cock, his fingers prodding at your asshole. Your hands look small holding onto his broad shoulders, squeezing as hard as you can but he barely feels it, if at all— the cut of your nails in his skin.
One of those hands, wide and warm, holds your neck, squeezes, and you for damn sure feel it. Wet lips find the shell of your ear, teeth grab the lobe. Soft words, so soft that you almost miss them, all tied up and slurred and stupid with lust. You’re such a pretty girl. Hmm? Ain’tcha? There you go, honey. Just like that. Oh, that’s perfect.
His mouth finds your neck as you roll your head back, hips still rolling. Lips swollen and red snagging on your skin as he drags them lazily, down, down, down to your collarbone. Teeth nibble at the bone before he slides his tongue across it, all while one hand slithers up your back, grabs and holds onto your shoulder.
You squeak when he fucks up into you real hard, just once, so he knows you feel him. You like that, honey? You want it like that? Okay, sweet girl, lemme give you what you want...
It’s time for some goddamn lunch.
You’re on your feet in a flash, head down as Steve twists left and right, because of course now that your panties are stuck to your skin, it’s the perfect time for him to work out a kink in his back.
“You okay?” he asks, eyes trailing you as you practically run towards the front door.
“Yep,” you don’t even look at him— you can’t. Heat prickling across your skin as embarrassment follows quickly behind, “Just getting kinda hungry… chicken salad sandwiches okay?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Buck and I can head home—”
“My treat,” you cut him off, twisting the doorknob.
All thanks to Bucky, a blast of cool air hits you in the face as soon as you push through the front door with ease (Steve is to thank for the door). You wipe at your forehead and move into the kitchen, washing your hands before plucking random ingredients from the fridge, freezer and pantry. Eyeing the small mountain of lemons in the crisper drawer, a pitcher of lemonade would round out your impromptu lunch (and help cool down your libido).
After the chicken is boiling on the stove, you busy yourself slicing up the tart, yellow fruit, popping the halves into your new lemon press. You’ve liquified three or four halves before movement catches your eye, drawing them towards the square window right over the sink.
Bucky tosses a hammer into the grass, hands on his hips while he rolls his shoulders. Cranes his neck back and forth. Soon he’s pulling at his shirt, one hand bunching it between his shoulder blades before pulling it clean over his head. Tosses it into the grass too as he starts to move towards the stream, fumbling with the button and zipper of his loose jeans.
Your heartbeat grows heavy, breath kinda shallow as he shrugs out of the denim just at the stream's edge. Then his fingers are in the waistband of his boxer briefs. Pulling. You blink away, sending your eyes towards the floor as heat, from both excitement and embarrassment creeps up into your face. What a creep— you’re a creep!
But you’re blinking again. Blinking right back out the window as the muffled sounds of water sloshing about fills the space. Naked thighs, burly and tanned and hairy. Swinging between his legs as he moves deeper into the water.
Just like that, your mind is off into it’s little tangents and tributaries. On your knees, in front of him. A hand cupping your chin, a smile on his face as he pushes hair away from your forehead. He’s leaning down, pressing hot, chapped lips to yours real soft. Your hands, so small when gripping his hips, nails raking down hairy thighs. Wet against your eager lips, warm, wet cock head rubbing soft, back and forth, back and forth to coax your mouth open.
A hum, one of content and sheer happiness sounds in your throat when you’re full of him. Velvet tongue tracing the thick vein that runs the length of his cock, then flattening— molding itself around him. He’s heavy and hot in your mouth, pinning your tongue down, gently stroking the soft at the back of your throat.
Bucky sounds heavenly. Soft groans. Sweet and sugary— and he doesn’t care. He’s a man, comfortable and secure. Oh honey, he’d purr, you’re so good to me. So, s’good. So warm.
Little hands around his cock, stroking, twisting, wet and sloppy from where your mouth just was. There’s a salt sweet in the back on the tip of your tongue, and you hum again. Silky. A bloom of warmth as you press the tip of your tongue against the tip of his cock. Pumping, pumping, pumping with your hands.
Breath against your ear suddenly, more sweet words tripping off a tongue as a chest is pushed into your back. A mammoth hand slipping down your stomach and between your legs, fingers teasing a throbbing clit and swollen, sticky folds. You take him so good, baby, Steve praises, pushing one, two, three fingers into your achy cunt, filling you up as you suck Bucky right back into your mouth. Such a good girl.
A loud thunk sounds from outside, jolting you right out of your little fantasy. You gasp and jump, slam your eyes closed as you grab onto the sink— Steve’s muffled but sweet sorry permeating through the walls. You cover your face with your hands, laughing gently into them before groaning loudly and pushing out a huff.
You grab another halved lemon, shove it into the press, and squeeze the fuck out of that bitch.
Within the hour, you’re stepping out onto your seemingly finished back porch. It doesn’t creak when you walk across it. There aren’t any rusted, jagged nails sticking out, no more missing or uneven boards. Your heart— and pussy— flutter with joy.
Ice cubes clink against the glass of the cups in your hands, traipsing towards the stream as Bucky floats lazily, arms pushing through the water slow as he stares up into the sky. You thank God for the heavy breeze today, whipping the water a bit, ripples and burbles stirring it up so you can’t see all of Bucky as he floats. Just the droplets of water glimmering on his chest, neck, and face. His hair spreading out and swaying with the steady current.
Two blue eyes soon find you, head turning slow, a lopsided smile on his handsome face as you stop just at the edge. You clear your throat nervously, a smile of your own spreading as you glance away.
“No heels today?”
You laugh, closing your eyes as embarrassment washed through you, “Nope, not today. I uh, I made some lemonade, if you… want some.”
The water sloshes again, falls off of his shoulders and arms and slaps back into the main source. Bucky runs his hands over his head, pushing more water off before taking a few steps towards your outstretched hand. His fingers linger over yours when he takes the round glass, for a second too long before he pulls back, eyes on you as he takes a slow sip.
You sit in the grass, sending your gaze up the stream as you lift your glass.
“Damn girl,” he says after a slow moment, “This is good, not too sweet. Just how I like it.”
Pride swells in your chest, “Thanks, I don’t like mine super sweet either,” you take a breath, settle your eyes on your feet as you wiggle your toes, “It’s the least I could do for you guys. I also made some chicken salad in the house, I can make you a sandwich whenever you’re hungry.”
“That’s real sweet, doll,” he purrs, smiling again, “Thank you, but really, you don’t have to worry about it. We were going stir crazy out here with nothing to do.”
You nod slow, blinking back at him before averting your eyes again, back down the stream, thinking for a tick or two, “Have you guys… been out here the whole time?”
Bucky has a way of looking at you. Like he’s trying to pry into you, see the innermost working parts of your brain and heart. It makes you nervous, but the good kind of nervous where you don’t ever want to not have those eyes on you.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on,” you smile, tucking your knees into your chest.
A slow smile creeps onto his face, eyes dancing all over you, “Come on what?”
“I,” you hesitate, pushing out a hard breath as embarrassment flushes through you, “I know who you are,” your voice is hushed and you don’t know why… there’s no one out here but you and him. Oh yeah, cuz you’re dumb.
“Yeah?” Bucky teases, smile growing larger, “Who are we?”
You squeeze your legs together, brain going fuzzy and warm as he teases you. God. “Your faces have been all over the news for months. You haven’t even cut your hair for god sake.”
“You know,” Bucky starts, pointing a finger at you as he closes his left eye, “I’ve been meaning to get around to that,” laughter bubbles up and spills out of your mouth for the first genuine time in a long time. The sound makes Bucky smile harder, “I’m pretty sure most of the town knows it’s us too.”
“Maybe not,” you shrug, “From the looks of it, the average age around here is a cool seventy five. I don’t think they care.”
“That’s true,” he laughs, “Even though they’re all old enough to remember us first hand,” silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the wind in the trees and the soft rush of the water, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
You look away from him, unable to take the constant stare from him any longer. You take a slow breath and shrug, “Everybody should have the chance to start over if they want, whenever and however they choose, so,” you swallow hard, dropping your head, “Plus, I think you two have been through enough, you don’t need me muckin’ it up.”
He blinks at you, eyes dropping just a bit, a seriousness settling in and on his features, “Thanks,” he answers simply.
A nod and half smile is all you can offer without that sadness you’ve been feeling lately creeping up in your throat, “Isn’t it lonely out here?” you ask, blinking at him over the rim of your glass.
He nods, shutting one eye as he tilts his head towards the sky, thinking over his answer, “Not really lonely, just kinda isolating, you know? If you can’t tell, I’m the social butterfly of the two of us.”
You laugh, nodding with him as you pick up on the sarcasm but appreciating his quiet way of picking up on your shifts and changing the subject, “Oh yeah, it totally oozes off of you.”
“I know it does, thank you for noticing,” he winks, “We don’t get into town much and usually Steve is the one that goes cuz, ya know,” he taps his temple, “Can’t really trust this thing yet, but it beats being rotting away in federal prison.”
A few beats pass as you play with a strand of grass, “I went to the Smithsonian a couple of years ago, saw that installation they put up for Steve— all the accolades and medals and shit… and he just walked away from it all, for you, for… what he believes in. That’s incredible— you’re incredible for enduring everything you have and still finding all this shit worth it. You two are just,” you can’t even find the words, “You must really love each other.”
“Well, home is home, you know,” he shrugs matter-of-factly, “He’s my brother— he’s never given up on me after all this time. I’d do it for him if I had too.”
“Boy,” you laugh a little, “They certainly don’t make men like you guys anymore. I can’t get somebody to buy me fuckin’ cup of coffee without expecting something in return. You two are lucky.”
Your words trail off, brown eyes blinking away from him again as the wheels turn in your brain. Bucky picks up on it immediately, tilts his head and smiles a little, “What?”
You shake your head, laughing again before taking a drink, “It’s nothing, just me overthinking.”
“About?” he prods after a second or two.
“I just,” you glance down the stream again, voice dropping low again, “I don’t think Steve likes me.”
He laughs. Like, really laughs. A throws his head back and claps his hands once or twice kinda laugh, “Oh hun,” he says after catching his breath, “Where’d you get an idea like that?”
“He’s just, I dunno, he’s short with me, barely looks at me most of the time,” you shrug, “But I mean, you two are fugitives from the goddamn United States government, I’d be suspicious of everything and everyone too,” Bucky’s laughter only grows, making you smile a little, “My social anxiety amuses you, huh?”
“No, no. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but, it’s just—” his eyes go wide with some sort of hidden knowledge as his smirk grows, “— he likes you. Believe me.”
“Well excuse me if I don’t because I sure can’t tell. He barely seems to like you most days.”
That tickles Bucky too, his laugh filling the air, “Him liking me isn’t certain from day to day, that’s for sure, but listen, he still thinks of himself as a hundred pound, socially awkward nerd. He hasn’t learned a damn thing in a hundred years — pretty girls made him nervous in 1940 and they make him nervous now,” you drop your head, trying to hide the smile growing on your face, “What do they say nowadays? It’s not you, it’s him.”
A laugh trickles out from behind your lips.
“Feel better?” Bucky asks.
You shrug, but nod, letting out a breath, “I suppose, yeah.”
He winks at you, smiling again, “Good.”
Then you two just kinda look at each other. Not saying anything, just looking— all over. Minds wandering and racing, then just stilling as the wind whips around you. Bucky tilts his head, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he looks you over slowly, another quirk of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Hey,” he says after a beat, taking another gulp or two of your lemonade, “You know what really gives me away?” He lifts his metal hand and wiggles his fingers, making you laugh.
“You certainly don’t try very hard to hide it.”
“Not around you anyway.”
You snap your eyes towards him as the words leave his mouth. Bucky’s head is tilted, wet hair pushed back, fat drops of water still dripping from the ends. He starts moving inward, towards you, each step exposing more and more of his chest and stomach— the dark, wet hair plastered underneath his belly button.
Bucky Barnes is not a shy man, and if you had any shame at all, you’d look away. But you don’t, have any shame that is, so you don’t. You let your eyes wander his lean, but incredibly toned body. There’s muscles on top of muscles, but there’s also scars. Littered across his torso and stomach, down his thighs and calves. Some silvery and old, others still dark and jagged— raised on his skin. Others are just ghosts of scars, barely there anymore and only visible when the sun and the water hit him just right.
He sits his empty glass in the grass beside you, the ice cubes clinking again. Grabs your glass from your hands and takes a sip. He pushes your knees open with his flesh hand, the bottom of the glass skimming over the right bend. Then he sits, his knees pressing into that little nook where your ass meets your thighs. Bucky places the rim of the glass to your lips and waits.
You blink up at him but let your head tilt back with instinct. Part your lips as Bucky tips the glass back and allows the lemonade to spill slow into your awaiting mouth.
“Finished? Or more?”
His voice is soft, eyes on slits as he peers down at you through full lashes. You lick your lips and place both hands in the grass, palms flat, “More please.”
It’s needy the way you said it, light and full all at the same time. Another sound that pleases him. He tips the glass again, and again you accept the tart liquid, licking your lips when he pulls away.
“Let me ask you something, doll.”
Metal digits creep around your neck, the tips of his fingers pushing into your hair. He cradles your face and you can’t help but roll into his warm palm as his thumb sweeps just underneath your bottom lip. The other hand is around your neck now too, just kind of holding it, fingers scratching at the nape of your neck.
He tilts your head back, pushing the tips of his thumbs underneath your chin and your eyes flutter. A whir trembling in your throat.
“Who in their right mind let a sweet little needy thing like you wander around all alone out here?”
Warm lips are on yours before you can answer— if you were even supposed to. Bucky grabs your top lip between both of his, that pink tongue sneaking out, massaging the roof of your mouth before disconnecting with a smack. The tip of his nose sweeps over yours as he adjusts, kissing you again, harder this time. Pulls you into him with his hands, his thumbs pressing into your cheeks.
You’re staring at him— both surprised and unsure— when he finally pulls away, the smack of your lips like thunder in a confused brain. Bucky’s hands are still on your face, cradling your cheeks and chin, lopsided grin painted on his face as he blinks down at you.
“What is it,” he asks soft, “Cat got your tongue?”
All you can do is blink. Mind empty as your breath shallows. He leans in again, sweeps the tip of his nose over yours as he nuzzles in— kisses your top lip quick and soft, “You just don’t know, do you?”
A hum vibrates in the back of your throat as you push out a labored breath. Lips suddenly eager, heartbeat ticking up as his metal hand collars around your throat, “Mmph— know what?”
The words are thin. Nervous and trembling but his mouth eats them right up. Hot and confident as he kisses you, tongue running along the roof of your mouth as his thumb slowly passes back and forth over your throat.
“Just how sweet you are.”
Your reach for him after seconds pass, hands and nails finding wet hips as you moan into his mouth. He sits up on his knees but never breaks the kiss, now deep and a little desperate. Bucky sounds as he starts to prod at the button of your jean shorts, popping it quick before pulling on the zipper, “We can smell how bad you need it, girl— how bad you want it.”
Instinctively you lift your hips, allowing Bucky to pull your shorts down your legs. You curl them around his thighs, place your feet on the insides of his calves, fingers finding his skin again, raking up and down his thighs.
“Thought you were gonna Steve a goddamn heart attack,” he chuckles, grabbing at the hem of your shirt, rucking it up over your chest, “‘m surprised he can form a sentence when you’re around.”
Your tits soon fall free, soft skin bouncing and jiggling as he jostles you around a bit— gets you just right and close so he can peer down at you through those long, dark lashes. Fingers curled underneath your chin, thumb dragging over your lips.
“You just looked so lonely, sitting all by yourself that day. So sweet and sad, like you were—” a breath chokes in his throat as you push your fingers through the thick hair underneath his belly button, “— waitin’ for us. Fuck, baby,” he inhales sharp, a hiss like a snake slithering out of him, “I thought, there’s no way anyone is that innocent, but you are, aren’t you sweet girl? We’ve found the prettiest, sweetest, loneliest little thing in the world— ah,”
One long stroke of your tongue along his cock brings his words to a halt. You send your eyes up to his and take him slow, stretching your mouth wide as your tongue glides along the length. Bucky rolls his shoulders and lets out a focused breath, real calm and slow through his teeth and parted lips. The tips of his fingers prod at your nipples, tweaking them gently before palming your tits.
You wrap a hand around his hip, skip the other up his stomach to flatten your palm against his chest— give his nipple a little turn and pinch. His heavy cock jumps in your mouth and your eyes light up in pure joy.
“Oh,” he purrs, pumping his hips slow, holding steady when he feels the back of your throat, “You like that, sugar? You like makin’ a mess of me? Got me stumblin’ all over my words— shit, oh honey, this mouth is something special, ain’t it? Fuck,”
His words are clipped again by a groan, throaty and gritty as you pull back, your lips wrapped around his cock head. Your tongue swirls around, tickles that little spot on the underside. The same spot that makes all men tremble. His thighs tense as he inhales sharp.
Without a word, he slips out of your mouth. Pushes you back flat against the grass and falls over you, metal hand by your head, holding his weight, flesh hand around his cock, pushing the tip through your folds.
He teases you like that for a beat too long— pushing at your slit, barely poking inside before pulling out to rub against your clit. You whine, leaning up, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pressing your forehead to his all while wiggling your hips. Trying to coax him in.
“What’s the magic word?” he taunts, tutting at you before pressing his lips to yours quick, pulling back with a smack, “Use your manners.”
“Please,” it’s huffy. Impatient and greedy, “Please, Bucky.”
“What do you want? Huh? Tell me what you want?”
“I wan’ you to—“
One quick stroke. Before you can even finish the sentence. He’s pushed in, all the way in— every last inch shoved inside. The sound you make is ungodly. Your fingers clamp around the back of his neck, grip tight as your mouth falls open. You have trouble catching your breath, panting like some animal left out in the heat too long. The fullness is just—
“Look at you,” Bucky purrs, pulling back before pushing in slow, “Oh honey,” quick kisses wash over your face— forehead, eyes, nose, chin, “You fit me just perfect, don’t you?”
You feel yourself nodding, dazed, so wholly consumed by the feel of him over you— inside you— that whatever words were jumbling around in your brain just a few seconds ago fizzle out into static.
Bucky is... he's— big. All over. Broad shoulders and thick thighs, muscle upon muscle stacked in a stocky frame that shouldn't lend itself to the agility you've seen him conduct himself with, but it does and it works. He's lethal, from the stories you've heard, yes— but he's also devastatingly gentle in the way he makes you fall apart with his touch, nestled safely between the grass beneath your back and the cradle of his lap.
"You're—" your words fall short, nothing more than a squeak and a sharp intake of breath spilling from your lips when he hits the spot that makes your tongue turn to lead, "— big.”
Bucky leans further into you, as if it's even possible, biting kisses stealing whatever breath is left in your lungs. He laughs into the kiss, soothes over the hurt on your bottom lip with his tongue. "I know, baby. Feel me in there?"
He punctuates the question with a hand to your abdomen and a sharp thrust that borders on the thin edge between pain and pleasure. Bucky shushes your answering moan, whispers into your mouth to— look at what I do to you, honey.
It's to your own demise that you follow through with the command, eyes rolling to the back of your head after only a quick look. It’s obscene how much fits inside of you. The thickness of him presses against your walls, thrusts deep and unrelenting, every movement outlined beneath the thick skin of your abdomen.
“That’s right, sweet girl,” he continues, palming your tits as they move with his thrusts, “Feels good, huh?”
You can only nod, the words strangled in your throat, nothing but squeaks and garbled moans pushing through. He fucks you slow, metal digits slipping down to your clit— light, teasing little strokes sending fire through your veins.
That metal hand comes back up, fingers and palm flat to your skin, sliding up your belly, through your tits only to wrap around your throat, applying a gentle pressure if only for a second. Then his hand is moving again. Up over your chin, thumb outlining your lips and flattening against your mouth before pushing the tip inside.
You welcome it, his thumb; the metal hot from absorbing the sun. You grab his wrist and open wider, inviting the entire length of his thumb inside. Moan deep as your tongue and lips wrap around it. Start to suck.
“You’re just the best girl,” he purrs, eyes fluttering, pecs flexing as he fucks into you with patience, “Just a precious little needy girl.”
I don’t think Steve likes me.
Steve stops mid-hammering. Eyes squinting as he adjusts the nails between his teeth, just hanging off his lip.
Oh hun, where’d you get an idea like that?
He’s just, I dunno, he’s short with me, barely looks at me most of the time.
He cringes thinking about what could possibly come out of Bucky’s mouth next, but when the crude words he just knew were about to fly don’t come, Steve lets out a breath. The last thing he needs you to know is how he’s jerked off to thoughts of you wrapped around his cock in a variety of ways every night since he’s met you.
He hasn’t meant for it to be obvious. Embarrassment and a little shame floods through him as he stands on the ladder, head hung low as he listens to your conversation. But the truth is, you make him dizzy. Everything about you is just so strong— it’s taken everything in him to focus on this porch and not your ass or down your low hanging collar as you’ve hovered over the flower beds all day.
Your heartbeat in his ears, the mix of your shampoo and lotion— your cunt— all mixed up in his nose. Filling his lungs and choking his brain. It’s too much and not enough for him all in the same breath. So he’s tried to keep his distance, work out his frustrations by pounding nails into wood when in reality, the only thing he’s been wanting to pound is you.
Sarah Rogers would be rolling over in her grave, and he knows it. She did not raise a rude son. Steve sighs heavily, blinking at the grass as he starts to work out his apology in his head.Plucking a nail from his mouth, he huffs out a breath and rests the sharp tip against the board, snapping his head quick to throw his long hair out of his face. Just as he’s about to bring the hammer down against the flat head, a familiar scent fills his nose.
It’s you, but heavier. Thicker. So consuming it could knock him over— makes the hair on the back of his neck stand right on end. With every breath he takes there’s just more and more… until his feet are carrying him around the side of the house. The hammer falling with a thump into the grass. Nails tumbling from his lips.
You like that, sugar? You like makin’ a mess of me? Got me stumblin’ all over my words— shit, oh honey, this mouth is something special, ain’t it? Fuck
Steve stops dead in his tracks as the words stuff his ears, eyes wide, breath caught in his throat as he blinks slow. Your naked back, slender and curved. Two long legs cocooning Bucky’s hips— head bobbing. Bucky groans deep, head lolling back, mouth falling open slightly as you suck him off.
Steve’s stomach tightens as heat creeps across his flesh. Stuck to the ground right where he stands, he watches Bucky push you back into the grass. Watches your full tits, nipples thick and piqued, jiggle as you writhe and whine like a petulant child before pulling yourself up by his neck.
Please, he hears you beg, please, Bucky.
His mouth goes dry. The heavy thumps of his own heartbeat in his ears, your carnal scent swirling, as his cock pushes against the denim of his jeans. He has to grab himself, give his cock and balls a little squeeze as your breath shudders while you adjust to the sheer size of Bucky— and a shiver ripples down his spine.
I know, baby. Feel me in there?
Steve’s knees buckle when you squeak at Bucky’s first thrust— has to reach out and catch himself with the help of a tree trunk. A fog clouds his brain as the smell of you and Bucky’s sex fills the air, the soft little sputters and whines that fall from your lips suffocating him as Bucky fucks you slow. This is the closest he’s felt to being sick in eighty years. Stomach churning, his head light as air chokes in his throat.
“Don’t be shy, buddy,” the words aren’t clear at first, kinda murky and distant before Bucky’s voice centers. Steve blinks, swallowing hard as he stares back at two blue eyes, “Look baby,” he purrs down at you, leaning down to lick your mouth before cutting his eyes back towards Steve, “And you thought he didn’t like you— the fucker can’t even breathe seeing you all stuffed full like this,”
Bucky kisses you hard but slow, humming real low as he sucks your tongue, “What are you waiting for, Cap?” he asks after breaking away from you, “Get your ass over here.”
Steve’s never been one to not follow an order.
You’re a trembling mess. Chest heaving, wimpy little sounds rushing from your mouth, fingernails dug into the meat of Bucky’s sides. Your head’s turned to the side, mouth hanging as you strain to watch Steve move towards you. Bucky fucks into you hard— hand pressed against your belly so you can feel it— sending a sharp pang of pain and pleasure. You squeal, eyes slamming shut as your hands fall to the grass, nothing but jelly.
Bucky slips out of you, flips you over onto your stomach before propping you up on your hands and knees all pretty like. His fingers push through your folds, rubbing soft circles, teasing your slit as he grabs your hair and yanks your head up to help keep your eyes on Steve, who falls to his knees in front of you.
“See what you do to him?” Bucky hums, his thumb sneaking up through your ass cheeks, pressing against your tight hole, “He’s been like this all week, all blushy and tense, head in the clouds just to try and focus on anything but you.”
Your eyes flutter again, teeth digging down into your bottom lip as Bucky’s thumb sinks into you, your greedy hole quick to swallow it up. He pumps it slow, the rest of his long fingers and warm palm cupping your swollen, wet cunt. You let out a breath, a gasp cutting it off as his fingers start to move, rubbing slow little circles against your clit again. Your hair still bunched in his hand, keeping your head up.
There’s fingers on your face, palms against your cheeks and thumbs on your lips as Steve tilts your head up a little higher, “Is she sweet, Buck?”
“Oh yeah,” Bucky answers with a quick chuckle, clipping it with a grunt as he stuffs you back full with his cock, “She’s as sweet as honey, Cap. That mouth— whew.”
You swallow hard, mouth falling open as Steve unzips his jeans and pushes his hand inside. He inches closer to you, knees dug into the grass and dirt as you start to lunge forward with Bucky’s soft thrusts, mewling as he continues to finger your asshole. Another deep surge of air fills your lungs as Steve pulls himself from his jeans.
“Je-sus,” you falter, voice shaking with Bucky’s thrusts as his hips pick up pace.
Steve works himself out of his jeans quick, hand pumping his cock all the while— the tip red and wet. Back on his knees in front of you, he continues to fuck himself, hand twisting slow up his shaft, the other pulling on his heavy sac as you bounce off of Bucky’s stomach.
Eyes half closed, long hair falling over his face, pink tongue sneaking out over his bottom lip as he watches you. Your eyes fall to his hands, blinking fast so you don’t miss a moment.
You fall to your left elbow, reach out with your right hand, skimming your nails up his thigh before wrapping your fingers around him. Following with your lips and tongue, you suck him in, caress the vein protruding against his tight, thin skin with your tongue. Stretch wide again as you take Steve’s length into your mouth— down your throat. You moan as you release him with a pop, keeping his cockhead pressed against your lips as you stroke him with your hand.
You take just the tip, swirling your tongue, tickling his little slit as he leans back, fucks up into your mouth with a sharp thrust, “Shit, girl,” he mumbles, “‘m sorry, I—”
“Don’t apologize to her,” Bucky sounds, “She can take it, can’t you sugar? It’s been a long time for ol’ Stevie boy,” he runs his metal hand up your spine, grabs the back of your neck as he levels a quick slap against your ass, “Be a good girl and let him fuck your throat.”
Almost on queue, Steve fucks up into your mouth again, tears prickling in your eyes as he opens your throat. His hand finds your head, sweeps over the crown before he squeezes gently, hips pumping upward. The squelch of your throat, the slap of Bucky’s skin on yours drowns out everything else— makes it all go fuzzy and hazy.
You’re just a toy. A thing for them to use until they’ve had their fill and hopefully, that won’t come any time soon.
Steve thrusts into your mouth again but this time stills, pushing your head down on to him. You grunt loud, nose in the thick, wiry hair smattered at the base of his stomach, tears rolling down your face. He pulses his hips— real slow— wiggling gently to push deeper and deeper down your throat— his mouth hanging, chest heaving as you take him all.
Bucky slams into you hard, holds his hips there for a beat before snapping his hips again, thrusting you forward— making you whimper even louder. Steve pulls out quick, leaving you panting and grunting, dragging in ragged breaths as strings of spit and cum hang from your bottom lip. He pushes back in before you can think straight, sends his cock down your throat again, holds his hips in place as his thighs flex and strain, just to pull out roughly again seconds later.
Steve wraps a hand around your throat, pushes your chin up as he squeezes your cheeks to pucker your mouth, “You like that, huh?” he kisses you hard, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, “You’re a good little girl— you like feeling me in there?”
When you don’t answer fast enough, he slaps your cheek, mostly all fingers but hard enough to make you gasp. He grabs your face again, kisses you again— quick and hard before craning your neck to make you face him, “Good girls answer when the Captain speaks.”
Bucky pinches the inside of your thigh, a loud yelp bursting from your lips before you grunt, overwhelmed and consumed by the pain and the pleasure. You nod frantically, swallowing hard, strangled groans vibrating in your throat, “I’m— I lik-like,” you stutter, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Aww baby,” Steve chuckles, caressing your face and wiping at your wet cheeks. He kisses you, once, twice, three times as Bucky pulls out of your cunt, thumb leaving your asshole,”Goodness, she can’t even talk, Buck.”
Steve picks you up, right up off the ground like you're waistless and settles you in his lap, cocooning you in his arms and warmth. Kisses your forehead and rubs your back as you nuzzle into him. Another pair of warm lips are on your shoulder blade, curling up over your shoulder, lips snagging on your skin as they move. Hands, both flesh and metal sweeping up and down your sides.
“You’re such a pretty girl,” Bucky mumbles into your skin, bunching your hair in his hand again to nibble on your neck.
Steve turns you in his arms, rests your back against his chest, your head on his shoulder. Warm palms find your tits, massage them gently as Bucky spreads your legs, bending them at the knees and placing your feet flat on the ground. Running his metal hand through his hair, he sticks his flesh fingers into his mouth, runs the pads over his tongue before he reaches out and touches you. Guides wet fingers through your sticky folds, not to excite or tease, but really just to feel you— soothe your hot, swollen cunt.
He thumbs your clit lazily before he cups your sex, smiling and growling with pride, “They didn’t make pussy like this back in the fourties,” he gives your cunt a quick slap, stroking his cock slow, “Steve wouldn’t know about that though, he wasn’t getting any.”
“Fuck you,” Steve fires back, his low rumble of laughter vibrating through you as he pinches and prods at your nipples.
He releases your tits to grab his cock, guides his cockhead towards your aching slit as Bucky spreads you open for him. His hips drive upward, the tip of his cock teasing your hole once, twice before finally breaking the threshold, popping inside. You both gasp as you sink down on him, pushing and wiggling your hips into his to get him all in.
“God,” you murmur, head falling back oh his shoulder, eyes rolling as he takes up every inch your have to offer, “Fuck, you’re so— big,”
“Deja vu,” Bucky hums, playing with your clit.
“But you can take it, can’t you,” Steve whispers against the shell of your ear, fucking up into you, “You can take all this cock, can’t you girl?”
“Mmhmm,” you huff between gritted teeth, “Mm fuck, yeah I can— fuck,”
Steve doesn’t waste a lot of time. Leans back on his elbows and hooks his hands in the bends of your legs, lifting them up so your feet are bouncing with each shove of his hips. Bucky rubs your clit with one hand, grabs your wrist and pulls you up a little straighter to wrap your hand around his cock with the other. You pump him fast, drops of precum dripping down your thigh.
Lips and teeth press into the meat of your left thigh, making you gasp. Bucky sucks more flesh into his mouth, sucks so hard it hurts as Steve fucks you senseless. You push upward, eyes falling to your stomach and between your legs, watching the bulge of Steve’s cock pushing along your skin. Your eyes then find Bucky’s, piercing and focused as he slithers his wet tongue along your skin, outlines your puffy cunt, then flicks at your clit as Steve fucks away. Pushes his metal hand down on your stomach as he sucks your nub into his mouth.
You’re a shuddering heap. Unable to move, legs and arms, neck and head going limp. You just bounce with the force of Steve’s hips, random shivers ripple through every burning, strained muscle. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes— you can’t even hear yourself crying. Teetering on the edge, swamped between too much and not enough all over again.
Steve snarls in your ear, teeth nibbling quick before he moans real sweet, “Shit, you’re gonna make me come— that cunt squeezing me all tight.”
“Mmm, that’s what this filthy little hole wants, isn’t it?” Bucky mutters, mouth still full of your clit and pussy lips, “Huh baby? This greedy slit just wants some cum.”
“I should fill her up, huh? Give this cockwhore what she wants?”
Bucky laughs when your hips jut forward, body jerking involuntarily, “Oh yeah,” he smirks, leveling three quick, hard slaps to your clit, “Give her what she wants, she’s been good.”
Steve fucks into you harder— faster, his clipped nails digging into your skin. Bucky sucks on your clit, fingers tickling the backs of your thighs. You’re nothing but liquid, melting into Steve’s hard body as heat pools in your belly before it spills over. Toes curl, face splintering as your octave rises but trembles with the impending bloom of release.
It snaps, somewhere deep inside. A piece that’s never broken before. You’re shaking, muscles tensing so hard it’s painful. Desperate, sharp, rough grunts shake through the trees and into the nothingness that surrounds your little cabin. Steve uses your clenching cunt to his advantage— shoves his cock in as deep as he can and holds it there for a beat before snapping his hips again, letting the pressure of your tight, convulsing muscles around the base of his cock start to milk him.
You can feel his spurts, thick and hot, coating messy, sticky walls. Soft hums from Bucky vibrate against your jumping clit as he sucks, pulling away with a loud smack before he slaps it again and again and again, praising you all the while, “That’s right, pretty girl. Look at you taking all that cock— such a good little cockslut you are.”
Steve is loud in your ear, biting on your earlobe as he spills into you. Wraps his colossal hand around your throat as he snaps his hips quick again, pushing deep, deep, deep.
He slips out of you without a moment's notice, not even waiting for your orgasm to quell. Bucky pushes your legs open wider, to watch the burst of white silk bubble from your hole and spill to your taint and asshole. He sweeps it up with his metal fingers, pushes it all— both cum and fingers— into your hot cunt, curling them as he massages your walls.
“Ah! Wait, I—” still trembly, weak and warm all over, fuzzy and oversensitive, “—mmm, Bucky, please.”
There is no rest for the wicked. Steve shoves his cock, wet with your slick, into your ass, Bucky pressing his fat cockhead at your entrance. You’re white hot as they both fuck into you, bodies pushing and pulling. One of Bucky’s hands around the back of your neck, squeezing hard as the other holds your cheek and chin in his palm. Steve wraps a long arm around your stomach, holds you to him tight as Bucky leans forward, throwing your leg over his shoulder. Fucks you fast— his heavy sac slapping against your taint. He stares at you, you him, the connection deep as Steve mutters in your ear, cursing the days and months and years it took them to find you. Their perfect baby girl.
You’re shuddering, howling and shrieking like a banshee as you start to come a second time. Bucky thrusts into you with every ounce of weight he has, fingers thrashing over your clit before he grunts just once. Low and gritty. Then he’s filling you up, cock spitting his warm seed, jumping inside of you with each spurt as he shoves deep.
Your orgasm is sharp, strikes a little deeper, hurts a little more. Limbs simply don’t work— won’t work. Can’t work. Eyes flutter as your body jerks with the involuntary aftershocks. You collapse back onto Steve’s chest as you huff and puff, almost gasping for air. You’re soon cocooned between two heavy, hot bodies, nothing but dense muscles and skin. Hands everywhere. Soothing. Caressing. Massaging. Words of encouragement and admiration washing over you.
Lazy words and wet, hot lips on your skin— you can feel the smiles on their faces pressing into you.
“You know what, doll?” Bucky mumbles, drawing circles over your tits with the tip of his index finger.
“Those chicken salad sandwiches sound pretty good right about now.”
You laugh, loud and carefree, covering your face with your hands as someone grabs your tit and gives it a little honk before showering your face in wet kisses. They jostle you around again as they stand, leaving you to stretch out in the grass, skin warming underneath the sun, a soft breeze tickling.
A heavy, content sigh pushes out of your lips, “Okay,” you answer simply— happy, stupid, and fuzzy.
Steve hoists you up into his arms, throws you over his shoulder with a couple of slaps against your ass. Bucky bites the little soft spot where your ass cheek meets your thigh and grabs a handful of skin as you squeal, falling into a fit of giggles again as the three of you start to move back towards the house.
“Well shit, girl. We got some laundry you can do too since you’re being all agreeable.” Bucky quips, taking another handful of your flesh to squeeze.
More giggles bubble in your chest as you bounce against Steve’s shoulder with each of his steps. You reach out lazily, brushing Bucky’s cheek and chin with your fingers. He grabs them quick, presses kisses against them and your palm.
“Looks like we gotta build you a new bed too,” Steve says, plopping you on your feet as soon as you cross the threshold into the kitchen.
You don’t even have to ask why.
You know it’s not sturdy enough to handle four hundred pounds of super soldier every night.
Good thing you are, though.
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Pairing: Mafia!Steve x Black Reader
Summary: When a snake a friend makes her spring break go wrong, the reader has some very intoxicating company
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut (Hair pulling, oral f, spanking, daddy kink, creampie, facial, squirting).
A/N: I have been with Mafia!Steve since the first time reading it and I really want to thank @angrythingstarlight for that lol. I wanted to be railed by this man and not even ashamed about it. I want to thank @lafayette103 for picking how Mafia!Steve would look cause she is as much of a hoe for him as I am. Thank you @olyvoyl for talking me out of not scrapping it. I started getting real self-conscious at it being so long but I’m happy with the outcome. With that being said, I hope you all enjoy this story, and if you do. Like, reblog, and comment! I adore hearing from everyone ♥ Dividers by @firefly-graphics
I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P
The double doors stood way over your height as you rang the bell. You were going to spend the spring break with your friend, Bella. She promised that you would all have the time of your life and that you didn’t have to lift a finger while you were under her roof. What she didn’t tell you was that she was loaded. Bella never let on how well off she was and by looking at the house as you pulled up, she was very rich. You two met sophomore year, assigned as roommates for the entire year. She seemed cool and unlike the other girls on campus so you and her hit it off pretty well.
That was until the current day…
You rang the bell once more hoping that someone would answer, it was scorching hot and one thing you loathed was being in the hot sun for a long period of time. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you dialed her number waiting for her to pick up. After the third ring, you were sent to voicemail.
Did this bitch just send me to voicemail?
Calling her the second time with the same result, you rang the bell one more time. The door opened wide as a lady almost your height greeted you with a wide smile, “Welcome to the Roger’s residence! Bella said that you would be coming by. I can take your bag for you,” she inched to grab the bag but you stopped her in her tracks.
“Oh no that’s okay! You really don’t have to do that,” you didn’t know how comfortable you felt about ordering someone around and she had already been so welcoming in the short time that you had known her.
The lady, who, you assumed is the maid smiled brightly as she slowly grabbed your bag anyway, “It would be no problem, we treat all our guests like royalty. Please step inside it must be so humid out here,” she pointed out, draping the bag strap over her shoulder. You nodded in agreement as you stepped past her, hearing the door close..
“so...,” looking at her not even knowing her name. She walked past you, stopping as your voice died. She could see the confusion on your face, “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your name. Didn’t mean to be rude.”
Her eyes lit up as she held your bag with one hand, “It’s Paola ma’am and you aren’t rude at all. Actually, you have been nicer to me in 2 minutes than the rest of Bella’s friends,” she said as a small smile met her lips. Okay, so the rest of her friends are assholes… figures.
Walking around the large mansion, you noticed the very high floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the backyard, laced with a fully decorated patio and large pool. There looked to be a smaller house outside, more than likely a guest house of some sort. Paola began to give you a full tour of the house, showing you the kitchen and letting you know that you could have whatever you wanted. Then taking you to the living area that held a luxurious sectional that looked comfortable enough to sleep on. There were various paintings and plants on either side of an elegant fireplace with a very wide flat screen tv high above it.
You couldn’t help but noticed that Bella was still not here and she said that she would be. She never called you back and you were starting to worry, “Um.. Paola? Is Bella even here?” you questioned as she set your bag down into the room that you would be staying in. you looked around the large living area, seeing that it was twice the size of your own dorm room. In the middle sat a California king bed adorned with rose gold satin sheets and a large screen tv mounted directly in front of it. The en-suite was on the right and you had your very own walk-in closet.
Even though you would only be staying here for a week, you knew that you would miss it as soon as you left. This room was fit for a princess and who were you to deny the hospitality. Paola looked up at the gold clock in your room, scrunching up her face, “Well I haven’t seen her since this morning. She did call and say that you would be stopping by”
You shook your head at Paola, just as confused as her, “That’s odd, she said that she would be here when I got here,” you said genuinely. Surely she wouldn’t leave you in a house all by yourself. Would she? Paola left you to get situated in the room, letting you know that dinner would be ready in three hours. You unpacked your bag, setting the clothes in the different drawers as you took some out to get yourself a shower before eating.
The hours went by and no sign of Bella, getting more worried, you dialed her number again as you got the voicemail one more time, “Bella! Are you okay? I’m at your house which is huge by the way. Gimme a call whore,” you say as you hang up the phone. You opted to wear a snug pair of shorts and a t-shirt, making it out of your room and into the kitchen. The smells of tomato and basil called to you as you saw Paola mixing a medium pot of sauce and pasta.
She looked up at you beaming as she seasoned the sauce at the same time, “Happy you got comfortable, any word from Miss Bella?” she asked as she walked over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water for you. She sat it in front of you, going back to the stove to check on the garlic rolls.
Taking a large sip, you shook your head as the smell of garlic made you salivate, “Still getting the voicemail. Everything smells so good in here,” you compliment, scrolling through your phone as you open up Instagram. As you are scrolling, you hear the door open. You look in the direction of the front room, hopping off the stool as you made your way to the front room, “It’s about time you made it! I was starting to get…” the person in front of you was not Bella, “worried…” you said slowly.
There stood a man, way taller than you, broad shoulders, and a tailored suit that fit him just right. He did have the matching blue eyes that Bella had as his brown locks were neatly slicked to the back. He donned a neatly trimmed beard and you were just close enough to smell his intoxicating cologne. He looked down at you in a tell-tale smirk, “Worried about me huh? I would be flattered if I knew who you were, pippi (Lovely girl in Italian).” His voice sounded just like velvet and him looking like a Greek God made it no better.
You placed your hands behind your back, staring up at the tall figure of a man. Giving him your name you start fidgeting with your fingers, “I’m a friend of Bella’s. She told me she would be here but I haven’t seen her yet,” chewing on the inside of your cheek as you never break eye contact. His brow furrows at you, pulling his cufflinks loose from his jacket.
He pulls it off of him, giving you a better look at his figure. His arms were thick, not too muscular but enough to know that the gym never missed him. His shoulders were more defined as he cracked his neck from left to right. Bringing his sight back to you as he gave you a small smile, “Seems like my bambina (child in Italian) lied. I dropped her and the rest of her friends at the airport this morning. They should be in Cancun by now,” he informed you.
That little bitch!
The heat rose to your face as the look of embarrassment washed over your facial features. You brought your eyes to the shiny tiled floor, not wanting to let the man see your hurt. You straightened your shoulders, holding your head up, “Oh… she didn’t tell me that. Who might you be, my manners are so bad,” you say as you try your best not to let your emotions show. You honestly wanted to take a flight and throw her in the damn ocean.
He walked closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. The closer he gets the taller he seems, “I’m Bella’s father, a shame I’ve never seen you before. Name is Mr. Rogers but you can call me Steve, pippi,” he says apologetically. He wasn’t too happy that Bella lied to you but he couldn’t help but be captivated at how beautiful you were. Your anger could be felt from a mile away and something in him didn’t want to see a pretty thing like you hurt.
Your eyes widen at the man standing over you. He is her father?! This man was definitely the epitome of a total DILF. No. Bad thoughts. You can’t think that way of her dad! But he was so sexy… You could see some features of her in him and just knew that he indeed was telling the truth, “I’m so sorry Mr. Rogers. Had I known I wouldn’t have even come. I’ll… go get my stuff and just head back to the dorms.”
The last thing he wanted you to was to leave. After all, it was Bella who lied to you and he was going to have a good talk with her when she got back, “No worries pippi! How long were you staying?” he asked still resting his hand on your shoulder. His grip tightened slightly at the thought of you having to leave.
Looking up at up through your lashes, you gave a small smile, “well it was supposed to be the entire week, for spring break and all. I don’t want to intrude, Mr. Rogers,” he tutted at you walking past you to take a seat at the island. He patted at the stool next to him motioning for you to sit. Letting out a deep sigh, you took a seat next to him. He gave you small smile before looking over at Paola and back at you.
He called her over to stand in front of you two as she turned to look at the both of you, “Make sure that she has the best care this week. She won’t lift a finger unless she wants to. I’ll deal with my little bambina when she gets back,” he instructed as Paola gladly nodded and went about finishing up the last touches of dinner.
You began to protest, not wanting to cause any trouble, “Please Mr. Roger’s its really no tr-”
He cut you off before you could finish, placing his finger under your chin bringing your sight up to him. Your doe eyes were going to be the death of him and he couldn’t just let you leave without getting to know you, “Steve… and I won’t hear another thing about it. You deserve a break from the campus too. I’m not always around but when I am, I don’t mind keeping you company. How’s that sound pippi? Want me to keep you entertained?” he smirked as you melted under his touch.
This man was intoxicating and you didn’t know how you were going to survive the entire week. He did say that he wouldn’t be around that much so maybe you would get a break from ogling at him the entire time. You gulp suddenly, never breaking your gaze from him, “Yes, Sir. I mean, Yes Steve, thank you for having me,” a bulge was forming in Steve’s pants the minute you said “Sir”. He was definitely going to have fun with you this week.
He clapped his hands together beaming at you, “Then it settles it! Anything you want, just ask and it’s yours. I’m going to head up and finish some work before dinner. Make yourself at home pippi,” he says patting you on the back as he leaves making his way down the hall. You look over at Paola her smile never wavering from yours. She leaves the kitchen, heading to the dining room as you hear the familiar clinking of silverware.
Getting up from your seat, you enter into the room occupied by a grand table, covered with a black and gold runner in the middle. You watch as she takes the silverware from the designated drawer, “Need any help? I really don’t mind,” she looks at you appreciatively, taking out the right about of forks and knives.
Before she could decline, Steve pops his head into the opening of the room, “Not a finger pippi or do I have to spank you already,” he playfully warns as a smile creeps on his face. He looks over at Paola who gives him a small tsk before bringing his sight back to you. You couldn’t help the sudden rush of heat meeting between your thighs at the thought of his large hands connecting to your ass cheeks.
The thought alone made you stammer as you answer, “No Si-, Steve. I’ll just wait in the front room,” you say, scurrying past him to sit on the plush sectional.
You took your phone, wanting to contact Bella again just to say how fucked up she was. But she knew what she did and didn’t even care. There was no point in even talking to her anymore at this point. You would have left, had Steve not insisted on you staying. There was honestly no use in trying to gain any forgiveness from his daughter because she turned out to be a snake. It hurt because you really trusted her and in turn, she treated you as if you were a toy. You kind of regretted even telling her some secrets or even getting close to her because this is how it all turned out.
Dinner was nothing short of delicious, you never really had real Italian food and you could tell it was so much different than the Americanized version. Steve didn’t come out and it didn’t really bother you at all. You really didn’t know him and you were sure whatever work he was doing was really important. You asked Paola if it would be okay to bring him a plate and she graciously made it for you, giving you a small glass of wine to top it off.
Tiptoeing quietly down the hall, you stopped in front of the door, standing still as you heard his booming voice talking to someone. When it sounded like he took a break, you soundly knocked on the door, hoping he would answer, “Come in,” he said from behind the door. As soon as he saw you poke your head through the door, the hard exterior of his face softening, pulling a smile at the corners of his lips. He beckoned you to come closer with his hand, “Hi there pippi, everything okay?”
Opening the door fully, he could see the plate of food and drink in your hands. Raising both slightly you spoke in a small voice, “Just didn’t want you to be hungry is all,” you say as you closed the door, walking over to him. He straightened up in his seat, rolling his sleeves up as you could now see the light covering of hair over his arms. His eyes danced over every curve of your body as you walked over to him placing both plate and wine on the desk.
He captured the apex of your chin between his thumbs before you straightened back up, bringing his cerulean eyes to yours, “Thank you pippi, you didn’t have to. Unless you just wanted to see me?” he gave a small smirk looking over you before letting you go. This man had to know what he was doing, right? Was he really flirting with you right now?
The latter was definitely correct, you did want to see more of him. He was that fine and you wanted to be in his presence as much as he would let you. Giving him a small smile, “It’s just… just didn’t see it for dinner sir… thought you could use some food while you worked. From the sounds of it… you’re working pretty hard,” you say looking down at the carpet.
Steve remembers the previous call a minute ago.
One of his men slipped up and let a target get away. But the matter was being handled as usual. He leaned back against his chair placing his hands behind his head, “So you heard that huh, pippi? Nothing to worry that pretty head of yours,” he cooed as you looked back up at him in his relaxed state. He looked good like this. His shirt halfway opened so you could take a glimpse at the peeking tattoos, sleeves rolled up to show off his muscular arms, and his shoes lying on the side of his chair.
Whatever he did was not your business and you were just happy to keep your eyes on him. You sat in the office with him talking about school and what you wanted to do afterward. He gained respect for you because he could see that you were more than just a beautiful girl and wanted nothing more than to get to know you and maybe even keep you if you were up for it.
The weekend went by fairly quickly as you spent most of your time either in your room or in the living area as you kept Paola company. Steve was gone for most of the day until you heard him shuffling to his room late at night. You wondered just what kind of work he did but it was best that you didn’t. There were different visitors who looked like they didn’t do normal work and honestly looked a little dangerous.
You were well into the middle of the week as you felt like having a night dip in the pool. Slipping on your bikini and flip-flops, you grabbed a towel as you made it out into the hallway. A door opened as steam rolled out, thinking that it was just Paola. What met your eyes was a very naked Steve with an ass to die for. You stopped in your tracks as he smoothed the towel over his face, turning around.
The universe had to be playing a sick trick on you because there was no way every part of him was perfect. His dick swung perfectly between his legs, a vein running up the underside. It glistened in the light as you observed his length and how thick he was. With every movement, it bobbed in the air and you let out a low moan that was loud enough for Steve to hear. He turned around to see you frozen looking over him.
“You okay there pippi?” As if he didn’t just catch you staring at his dick! He had to admit that little sound you made, had him wanting you to make it again. He wrapped the towel around his waist, water still falling down his chest. Your head popped up from where it was, looking at him with wide eyes.
Clutching your towel, you knew you were found out, “Sorry Steve! I didn’t mean… I… You’re home early,” you blurted out as you took a minute to catch your breath. He really was a work of damn art.
He gave a small chuckle, running his fingers through his hair, “Work was easy today sweetheart, thought I’d actually enjoy my home for once,” he joked, not even fully paying attention to the small bikini hugging your curves. Now it was his time to stare, “Going for a swim?” he nodded over at you. His eyes dragged over each every part of you causing the heat to rush to your face.
Wrapping your fingers around the soft cotton of the towel, eyes still downcasted, “Ye-ah, kinda didn’t want to spend my night in the room. If that’s okay?” you say, looking up at him. He walked over to you, lifting your chin to meet his face.
Looking over your frame once more, his voice lowered, “anything you want sweetheart,” catching his bottom lip between his teeth, “might come join you and keep you company. Would you like that?” lacing his around your waist to bring you closer. He was all muscle and you wanted to touch every part of him. This is was wrong right? You couldn’t be this close to Bella’s dad like this...
Your eyes darkened with desire, as you gave Steve a knowing smirk, “Whatever you want Steve,” pressing your lips to his cheek as your pull from his grasp, walking away as you swayed your hips all the way down the hall. If he wanted to keep you company, you couldn’t deny the man in his own house. Steve watched as you paced down the hall, grabbing at his hard cock through the towel. Chuckling lightly as he shook his head as he headed into his room to change into some swimming trunks.
The water felt just right on the warm night. The night illuminated by the stars and full moon, you had to take a look at the beautiful sight. Being distracted by the sky, you never knew that Steve came into the water. Not until you felt a pair of thick arms wrapped around you, “Hi sweetheart,” dipping his head down to press his lips to your cheek, “couldn’t pass up the chance to be alone with you.” Stiffening in his grasp, his chest shook from light laughter, “Relax pippi, you’re safe.”
That turned you on more than it should, “Just scared me is all,” you say still staring out at the sky. A hum radiated in his throat as he brought his hands up sliding over your belly. You look down to see fresh bruises on his knuckles, placing your fingertips over them, “rough day?” laying your head against his solid chest. You still didn’t know what he did but something in you felt safe either way.
Steve took a slow inhale through his nose, letting it out slowly, “maybe for the other guy sweetheart. Like being here so far?” he asks, placing his nose in the sea of your thick curls. He basked in the sweet scent of your hair rubbing his fingers over your smooth skin. The act causing your body to react. Fuck, you wanted him to touch you in other places. It was evident he wanted to. You could feel his hardness slotted right between your cheeks and he was trying so hard not to push against you.
You nodded as you leaned your head slightly, dipping your fingers in his brown locks. Pulling lightly a low growl passing from his lips. You let your tongue pass over your plump lips, rolling your hips against his. His grip tightening around you, ghosting a hand over your neck, “You don’t know what you’re asking for sweetheart,” groaning as he pushes his covered dick against your ass.
Letting out a breathy moan, you double your efforts, pushing your hand between the dancing bodies, gripping his dick in your hands, “Whatever you want Steve…” you didn’t have to tell him twice before you were free from your bikini top, one hand pulling and tweaking your nipples with the other pressing lightly against your throat.
Steve swirled his tongue at your sweet spots, making you mewl from the contact. His tongue was soft and warm, making you soak your panties all at the same time. You turn your head towards him as he dipped down to slot his lips over yours, sliding his tongue over yours drinking in your essence hungrily.
Steve pulled and twisted one nipple to hardness before lightly smacking it, you arching your back at the contact. Doing the same to the other, he began swallowing the noises you made not taking his mouth from yours. He released his hand from your throat, pushing it past the band of your panties to dip his fingers in your drench folds. Pulling his lips from yours, groaning against your mouth, “Fuck sweetheart, you’re soaked. Need to taste you,” he says turning you to face him as he lifts you out the water and onto the ledge.
He tore your bottoms in half, throwing them in whatever direction as he pulled your legs over his shoulders, pulling you to his face. His eyes stared up at yours as he dipped down licking his flat tongue up and down your folds, collecting all your juices on his tongue. Moaning loudly from your taste he attached his lips to yours sucking like a starved man, grabbing your hands to place them on his head
Wrapping his arms around your thighs holding you in place, he sucks your clit into his mouth, running the tip of his tongue across the sensitive nerves. You brace yourself with one hand, pulling his hair with the other, “Ste-ve!” you gasp out as he brings shock after shock of pleasure between your legs. Your legs begin to shake as you clench your thighs around his head, pulling away.
He yanks you back, eliciting another growl as he smacks the inside of your thigh, “Don’t run from me pippi, let me make you feel good,” spreading your thighs as he pushes two fingers in your throbbing hole, attaching his lips back on your clit before pumping in and out of you. You grip his hair once more rolling your hips against his face.
“Oooh fuck Steve! Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you scream out as he shakes his head from side to side bringing to the brink. You feel a pressure building in your core, at the curl of his fingers hitting a spot you never knew you had. Bucking your hips violently, he holds you in place pushing down on your pelvis. The cocky fucker knew what was about to happen, smirking in between your legs.
Pulling his fingers out, you whine at the loss as you hear his voice, “look at me sweetheart. Need to see you come apart,” pushing his fingers back in your leaky hole. You keep your eyes on his deep blues as he hits that spot again, sucking noisily. The shiver in your spine was the first indicator, the pressure building as he bumped against your spot over and again. With a flick of his wrist, you came undone, singing his name over and over. The dam broke, making steve dip lower as you squirted in his mouth. He pressed his thumb to your clit strumming as he rode the high with you.
Your legs shook at his shoulders as another orgasm rocked your body, Steve pulling you close to drink up every drop, “Steve! Yesyesyesyes!” you held onto his hair, releasing your grip as your high came down. You laid flat down as steve lightly kissed at your inner thighs, carefully pulling you back in the water to wrap your legs around his waist.
Grasping his face in your hands, you pressed your lips to his, lightly kissing the edges and down his jaw. He gripped your ass softly walking to the stairs, taking careful steps out of the water. Walking over to the large table, he places you on the edge, ridding himself of his trunks, his dick slapping against his stomach. The tip red and wet with dripping pre-cum. You reach out wrapping your fingers around the girth stroking him as he groans at your touch, “You keep doing that and I won’t last sweetheart.”
You gripped his hair in the other hand, bringing him closer between your legs and your hand dropped from his length. He brought the swollen tip to your entrance, pushing in slowly. The stretch was a delicious burn and you wanted more. Bucking your hips impatiently, warranted another pop to your skin. You whine as he withdrew, thrusting back in as he punched the air out of you.
“Shit, pippi. Tightest pussy I’ve ever been in,” he grunts, sliding in out at a steady pace, bottoming out each time. You dig your nails into his biceps, his hands keeping both legs open. Steve dips lower capturing your nipples in his mouth, alternating between the pair causing you to throw your head back as he continues to slam his hips between your legs. Feeling his lips crawl up to the crook of your neck, you wrap your arms around his neck holding as he continues dragging his dick in and out, making you feel every inch.
Steve sucks bruise after bruise on your neck, growling between each one, “Pussy’s incredible sweetheart, molding to my dick like she was made for me,” groaning against the shell of your ear as his breath falters. You clench around his dick, coating his dick with your creamy juices, “Shit, pippi grip me just like that, fuck.”
He lifts you from the table, body in the air as he slams you down forcefully, your body shaking in his arms, “Oh shit! Steve. You’re gonna make me come!” you scream out as he brings your hips down hard against his thighs as he balls slap against your ass, your eyes rolling back as he hits your spot over and over again.
Widening his stance, he hits your spot in a different angle, making you drag your nails down your back, “Yes daddy! fuck!, “ whimpering from the overstimulation. Steve still suddenly, looking into your eyes.
Lifting you up slightly, “Say it again pippi…” He slams you down again
Slams you down once more. “Again!”
“Daddy!” you squeak out.
He cracks his hand against your ass before slamming you back down repeatedly cause spurt after spurt of your juice hit his abs, “Oh pippi I think you’re close. Can feel the pretty pussy crying for me,” bringing you back down to the table as he keeps his thrusts steady. He presses two fingers to your clit rubbing in circles, thrusting upwards at your g-spot.
You drag your nails down his back, feeling your core tightened rapidly, gripping onto him tightly. His thrust getting sloppy as he crashes his lips to yours swiping his tongue over yours before pulling away, “Come for me sweetheart, milk Daddy’s dick. Fuckin do it,” he coaxes you rubbing faster as your arch your back, feeling the gush cover your lips, table and down Steve’s dick, “That’s my good girl! Oh fuck!,” Steve shouts painting your walls with rope after rope of his thick load.
He snaps his hips harder pumping more into you as another orgasm crashes over you, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Steve presses his lips to the column of your neck basking in the high you two created, “My good girl,” pressing his lips to yours, “did so good for me,” he says pressing a kiss to your forehead. You open your eyes looking up at him as he gives you a tired smile, “there she is,” he says as he places a small kiss to your nose.
The rest of the week was spent in his bed, the kitchen, the bathroom… damn near any surface Steve could get you on.
“That’s it pippi make Daddy’s dick creamy,” he cracks a hand over the globes of your ass, “such a beautiful little slut you are.”
Gripping your hair as he takes you over the couch, slamming into your repeatedly. He had successfully pulled four orgasms from you already and working on the fifth before you squeaked out.
“Oh! Too much Daddy I can’t,” He slapped you on your ass again, snaking a hand down as he rubbed your clit in fast circles, causing you to squirt down the back of the leather couch and floor.
He chuckled down at you keeping his same pace, “What’s the matter pippi? Thought daddy’s pussy couldn’t come anymore?”
That caused for him to pull out 2 more orgasms before coating your ass with his cum.
It was the day for Bella to come back and Steve sent someone to go pick her up. He would have done it himself but he was too busy balls deep in you over his desk.
By the time she made in the house, she could hear your screams throughout the house, making it up to his office. She made it just in time to see her father painting your face with his cum. Rope after rope covered your lips and tongue dripping down to your chest as you looked up at him, his hand at the back of your neck.
“Papà!! What the hell?!” the look on her face was priceless.
He looks away from your face to his daughter’s, “Welcome home bambina! I got real acquainted with your friend here. Might be your stepmom if she keeps this up,” he smirked over at her.
Her face was as red as a tomato, folding her arms as she looked over at you. You gave her a small smile, “Hi Bella! Your dad kept me occupied since, ya know, you left me here,” pushing some of his come in your mouth. Steve let out a low moan at the nasty act.
He looked over at Bella his smile falling, “Do we lie in this house bambina?”
“No papà,” she said rolling her eyes.
He did a fake tsk at her attitude, “That’s right. So since you decided to treat your only friend like she was trash, I had to rectify that. Isn’t that right my precious pippi?” he coos over at you, pushing more come in your mouth with his thumb as you swirl your tongue over the thick digit.
You nod happily and say, “Yes daddy,” with his thumb still in your mouth.
He looks back at Bella, giving her a hard stare, “Now bambina, I think an apology is needed don’t you think?” The look he gave her made her know he wasn’t playing, “But, 'I’m sorry’ won’t work cause you won’t mean it. Gonna send you back to your dorm and you can pack her stuff and bring it here.”
Bella began to protest as you looked up at him with wide eyes, “papà!! That’s not fai-”
His voice boomed through the room, “Fair? What isn’t fair is being a liar bambina. Get it done and get out of my office. Need to give my sweetheart some more loving,” he pulls you up smoothing your skirt down, “come on pippi. Need to clean you up so I can get you dirty again…”
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Sweet, St. Catherine
Summary: You love the chain around his neck more than you care to admit.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: NSFW smut, porn w/ minimal plot, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, cursing, choking (brief), daddy kink (very brief), sex w/o a condom (please use protection guys)
a/n: not my best work, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!!
“You alright, dear?”
Ms. Lisa’s smile is warm, and her hand on your arm grabs all of your attention in that moment. You’re thankful for the distraction from your boyfriend, but you also have to will yourself to not let your eyes dart back over to Chris at the same time. So, you hold onto the stem of your wine glass a little tighter and engage in the prompted conversation.
“Yeah, just think I’m feeling a little tired,” You express, even offering a small but soft smile to really sell it. Unveiling the truth about you staring off into space would be highly inappropriate, and you were not equipped to handle whatever unknown response you could potentially receive from Ms. Lisa if you didn’t hold your tongue.
The conversation between the two of you lulls for a moment, but it’s only because your mind wanders elsewhere once again.
“It’s good to have him back home, hmm?” She asks and you’re letting out a content response, because yes it is nice to have Chris back home, back in your arms in the flesh. The problem about him being back home in this instance is the fact that he’s so close and too far; had it not been for socially acceptable norms, a part of you genuinely believe that you would’ve climbed him like a tree in the middle of this room while proceeding to let him blow your back out across the walnut stained coffee table.
“You have no idea,” You hum in response, and that’s when Ms. Lisa wraps an arm around your shoulders in a loving manner. She’s always been that way with you: comforting, motherly, and forever warm. So, that’s why you find yourself leaning into her touch, watching as her children loudly talk and catch up with one another.
You loved Chris’s family and they loved you in return, wholeheartedly, but dammit you want to kill Chris for this.
His chain peaks out just underneath the collar of his shirt, as if mocking you right where you stood. He’s got his arm slung on he back of the couch, legs spread as he lounges on his mother’s sofa and seems to zone in on whatever the hell Scott is talking about at that point. To be honest, you tuned nearly everything out the moment your eyes caught sight of the chain– the one that’s pretty much attached to him the minute he gets back home; you wonder if he wears it so often after you accidentally let it slip that its effect on you never fails to make your body hot in more ways than one. Just like that, all over again from the start– you’re ready to go home.
“You alright, you’ve been kinda quiet tonight, honey,” About an hour has passed, and you have found your rightful place next to Chris on the couch. You’re leaned up against his side, his arm slung around you as the deep sound of his voice whispering into your ear calls for your attention.
“Yeah,” As you shift to look at him, your voice remains unconvincing– Chris automatically picking up on something lying beneath your tone. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but you move to get even closer to him– crossing one leg over the other and even going as far as to rub the outer ball of your heel against his jean covered shin; the corner of his lip twitches.
“Just tired then?” From the sound of his voice, you can tell that he knows which gears are turning in that pretty little head of yours.
“Only if you’re ready to go home, baby,” You purr softly, but truthfully? You never want to cut Chris’s quality time with his family short. You know how close all them are, and how sometimes, being away due to filming really grew hard on Chris. You’re being honest with yourself in that aspect, but you’re also being honest in not wanting to hide that every passing minute seeing him in such casual clothing with that damn chain just increases your libido for him.
Your eyes shift from his face to said chain, focusing on the silver that gently rests against his faintly tanned skin. Without even thinking, you’re raising your fingers to slightly play with the metal– grazing the warmth of his chest in the process.
As you do this, Chris remains quiet, but you don’t miss the feeling of his heart skipping a small beat. The silence between the two of you only lasts for a moment.
“Yeah, I–“ He quietly clears his throat, shifting his body even closer to you...to the point where if you lifted up your thigh– you could practically be sitting on his lap in the middle of his mother’s family room.
Thank the Lords that the rest of the Evans crew was too caught up with another round of pictionary to notice the suggestive nature between you two.
“I think I’m ready to go home too, honey,” There’s a rasp in his voice, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear before subtly taking your lobe between his teeth.
You’re biting back a moan, slightly shivering underneath his touch as he takes his hand and rubs your shoulder as if in a comforting manner.
To anyone else, it looks like Chris is simply about to kiss your temple and whisper a sweet nothing to you, but in reality? He’s actually telling you that he can’t wait to have your legs shaking like the good girl he knows you to be.
The goodbyes are quick after that, and the ride back to Boston home is even quicker; the fact that Chris wasn’t pulled over is both impressive and a miracle in your eyes.
“Need some help there?” Chris playfully mocks you, pressing his chest up against your back as you struggle to get your keys into the lock of the front door. It wasn’t very convenient that you kept on fumbling with the keys, but it wasn’t helpful that Chris kept on dipping his head to press faint kisses to your exposed neck.
You’re letting out a sigh of relief when the two of you nearly stumble through the threshold. Met with a silent house, it’s easy to deduce that Dodger’s gone to bed thanks to you and Chris leaving food and water out for him before leaving for dinner.
“Chris, I–“ Your breathless giggle is swallowed by Chris as he kisses you, moving to press his body up against the nearby wall after the two of you clumsily kick your shoes off by the door.
His hair is soft between your fingers, the tufts weaving against your digits as you tug him closer to you to deepen the kiss. Groaning in return, Chris’s hand slams against the wall next to your head, his body pressing up against yours as his other hand moves to grip your thigh and successfully hike your leg on his hip.
He feels so good against you– feels like home and a dream all wrapped into one and you can’t get enough. In fact, you find yourself dipping one of your hands beneath the collar of his shirt, your fingernails finding the smoothness of his skin before digging in just enough to elicit a grunt from him as his tongue continues to collide with yours in an increasingly heated kiss.
It’s as if the two of you are reverted back to the days of being horny teenagers in high school, cling onto one another as if no touch would ever be enough. That is how your shallow dry humping against the wall turned into Chris hoisting you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist with ease as your fingers card through his dark roots, and he’s maneuvering the two of you up the steps as if he’s done it thousands of times before.
You wouldn’t be surprised if that estimation were true.
Chris’s lips never leave yours. The taste of him floods your mouth like a cool river, and you vaguely hear the sound of the master bedroom door being kicked shut– just before you’re being firmly set down on top of the expanse of your vanity.
A few things topple off of the counter, but you two are too wrapped up in one another to genuinely care about cleaning it.
Chris’s hands are all over you: pushing your skirt up even further so it bunches up around your waist, peeling your shirt off of your body to throw it behind him on the floor, and soon enough he’s letting his fingertips run against the hem of your underwear.
“Wonder how wet you are for me, honey,” He muses smugly, already having an inkling from how you’re desperately trying to rut yourself against the growing bulge behind the zipper of his jeans.
You mewl at the feeling of him running two fingers against your clothed slit, craving for more than he was willing to give you at that point. Though he doesn’t give you what you want immediately, he does dip his head down to place open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat and eventually across your exposed collarbones. Chris keeps on going till he’s mouthing at the swell of your breasts, his left hand moving to pull the cups of your bra down so he could give some well deserved attention to your hardening nipples.
All you can do is lightly throw your head back into the mirror behind you, your hands cradling his head to your chest as your back arches to feel more of him against you.
“F-Fuck, that feels– oh!” It catches you off guard– the feeling of Chris snapping your panties off of you, shoving them in his back pocket as he lightly runs his teeth against your peeked nipple while palming the other one.
Before you can say anything, the words vanish from your mind because his pointer and middle finger press against your clit; naturally, your hips jut out against him and he’s moving to find your lips once again, smirking into the kiss as you react to his touch so easily.
“What’s got you so worked up, hmm?” Chris asks, a small smile gracing his lips when he catches you trying to chase his lips into another kiss. He denies you of course, but he’s quick to slip one finger inside you, teasing you while waiting for your pending response to his question.
“Baby, please,” You jut your bottom lip in a slight pout, wanting more– needing more.
“Believe I asked you a question, sweetheart,” He states before pushing another finger into your tight heat. You know that he wants you to use your words, he wants to hear you ask, perhaps even beg, for what you want from him. However, though he wants to hear those pretty little words escape your mouth, Chris also relishes in making the task harder for you.
“You’ve been giving me these eyes all night, honey...why is that?” Even in the dimness of the room, you can still see the glint in his eyes. He speaks to as if he’s not plunging two fingers into your quivering hole, as if you’re not leaking between your thighs to a point where you’re sure you’re making mess on your vanity.
Chris curls his fingers within you, the pads dragging against that soft, spongey part that has you keening– your thighs jump as you choke on words that immediately die on your tongue; to make matters worse (or perhaps better), the ball of his palm presses against your clit, granting you that extra boost of stimulation that tightens in the coil in the pit of your stomach.
Your hands are on his shoulders, your nails digging into him as you try to ground yourself. However, your eyes move from his face to the spark that started this whole flame: the chain around his neck. Your body acts before your brain can process it.
Chris is about to say something else, but you’re quick in grabbing at the chain from underneath his shirt to pull your man towards you in a searing kiss.
His free hand finds the back of your neck, fingers wrapping around enough to feel your pulse race underneath the pressure of his digits. It was all so intense: his hand around your neck, his fingers opening you up for him, his lips against yours, his chain in-between your fingers– you can’t even warm him that you’re cumming.
The dam within you breaks, your thighs trying to squeeze together to help calm yourself from the sudden burst of pleasure coursing through your veins.
“Sh-Shit,” You squeak out, failing to calm down your breathing as Chris continues to finger you through your orgasm while tilting your head back to lick a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe.
Even with the slight darkness the two of you are in, you can still see Chris’s eyes capturing your attention when he finally decides to remove his fingers from your slick channel– he even makes a small show of licking your essence off of him, moaning as he does so.
“Always taste so good, but you still didn’t answer my question,” There’s a rasp in his voice, and as if you couldn’t get any wetter– you’re wrapping your legs around him to pull his frame closer to yours.
Immediately, you can feel the hardness of him against your exposed core, and a piece of you wants to feel the weight of him on your tongue...but another piece of you– a larger piece of you wants to have him on-top of you right in that instant.
It’s a flurry of rushed movements– moving from the vanity to the king sized bed. In the few seconds, you’re able to peel Chris’s shirt off and get his jeans unbuckled, and as soon as he’s placing you on the bed, he’s tugging your bunched up skirt off of you in a quick motion.
It makes you feel vulnerable in the best way– being completely bare in front of him while he still has some clothing on his body.
“You look so pretty like this...always makes me want to take my time with you,” You can’t tell if Chris is talking to you or himself in that moment, but there’s no denying the way goosebumps arise wherever he drags his knuckles against your skin. You whine in response, looking up at hime with wide, glossy eyes that tell him everything need needs to know. Well..mostly everything.
“I need you, baby, please,” You breathe the words out as if it took too much energy out of you, reaching out to mess with the button and zipper of his jeans as he finds his rightful place between your spread thighs.
“Yeah? What do you need, princess?” He sports a lopsided grin, seemingly amused at the way you try to push his jeans and boxers off of him. Truth be told, he needs you just as bad, but this was also part of the fun for him– watching you almost struggle to find the words and replace them with frenzied actions instead. It was cute really, endearing.
“I need to feel you inside me,” You start, shifting your eyes to look up at him as you reach past the barrier of his boxers and hold him in your warm palm. Chris’s breath hitches when you drag your thumb over the slit, smearing his precum over his bulbous tip before slowly stroking him. Your other hand reaches up to pull his head down just enough so that your lips could be right by his ear. “I want to feel you fill me up, daddy.”
Just how he knew your weaknesses, you knew his as well. That word never failed to switch something off inside of him, and just like that? He’s pushing your hand off of him so he could kick off the rest of his clothing, and he’s quick to hover over you once again.
His chain hangs in your face, the glimmer of the patron saint flickering before your eyes. It’s such a constast– the sight of something holy being the root of your heightened libido, staring you in the face as if telling you that there might just be a sweet place of damnation waiting for you after you take your last breath.
In that moment though, you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of Chris dragging his cock through your slick pussy, bumping his tip against the bundle of nerves that has you grasping at his bicep.
The burn is delicious when he finally slips himself into you, a guttural moan coming from the back of his throat at the feeling of your warm walls englufing him like a true welcome home.
“F-Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” It’s a whisper, as if he’s afraid someone else in the world might hear him other than you. However, you’re inhaling deeply when his hips are finally flush against yours– filling you up to a point where the line of pleasure and pain blurs and you’re digging your nails into his skin as he thrusts into you.
His pace is deliberate, reaching parts of you that has your toes curling and pitiful moans falling past your lips.
“Ugh...Yes..Ri-Right there, baby,” You gasp out, and Chris is quick to dip his head down and capture your lips in another kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, and you can still taste the reminence of yourself on him. He feels so damn good, but you’re hungry for more still.
When he pulls away from you, you’re trained on his chain swinging back and forth in front of your face, right in time with his thrusts.
You’re wrapping your legs around his waist, your heels pressing into the flesh of his ass so that he stays flush against you and as deep as possible. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix and you’re gasping for air while Chris chokes back on a moan at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him nicely.
“Baby– holy shit,” He cuts himself off into a whisper, eyes widening when he notices you’re taking his chain in between your teeth as he grinds against you.
Your lashes flutter and you buck your hips, and Chris swears that he feels his balls tighten exponentially at the sight of you. You look so wanton, so desperate, so needy for all of him, and seeing his chain between your teeth as your eyes water and your lashes flutter? That has him wrapping a constrained hand around your throat and delivering some harsh thrusts into you despite the slight restriction of your legs wrapped around him.
“That’s what you wanted, princess? Such a dirty girl,” He muses, and you know that you’re not going to last any longer.
Releasing the chain from your mouth, you throw your head back into the pillows, back arching as your second orgasm of the night washes over you. Chris has got you, his hand finding your back to pull you flush against him as he chases his own release.
Fucking you through your orgasm, you feel him shudder against you, a warmth blossoming in the deepest parts of you as he finishes and proceeds to give you a lazy, sloppy kiss as the two of you try to come down from the blissful high recently experienced.
You don’t know how much time passes, your mind settling into a relaxed haze as Chris pulls a blanket over the two of you; your head finds his chest in subtle muscle memory, and his arms wrap around your body in a comforting manner.
“So...the chain does it for you, huh?” His voice breaks the silence of your dark room, and though he can’t see your face– you’re certain he can feel you smile against the planes of his chest.
“You have no idea.”
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Summary: Walking in on Bucky in a familiar suit gives you ideas…then the actual owner joins in…
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x black!reader x Steve Rogers
Warnings: threesome, pure smut, oral (male rec), sharing/swapping, graphic language, unprotected sex, fem/male masturbation, exchange of bodily fluids, it’s nasty okay? 18+
A/N: this was supposed to be a Bucky fic. But due to some people *cough cough* it became a Stucky fic. All inspired off this edit I found on Pinterest.
It’s quiet on the compound. A little too quiet…you know Bucky’s around here somewhere and if he’s this quiet, he’s definitely up to something. Creeping up on his door you poke your head in to see him in a familiar suit that doesn’t belong to him. But it sure fit him just right. Propping yourself against the entry, you cross your arms checking out Bucky checking himself out in the mirror, looking down at his body with a dangerous grin. Cute, even he knows he looks good as fuck in Steve’s stealth suit.
“Knew you were up to something.” Bucky jerks alert spotting you smirking in the reflection of his mirror. “Way too quiet…way too suspicious.”
“Steve let me borrow it.” He spills oddly fast with big scared eyes but you roll yours with a nonchalant scoff.
“Bucky I’m not gonna tell.” You shrug walking into the room, your happy eyes giving him another look over, saying, “besides I think you look so fuckin hot.”
Hearing that Bucky relaxes with a devious grin, running his hands down the arms as he turns to face you silently humming checkin out his ass. “Yeah I figured it would. Just had to find out.”
Mm for him to be feeling himself in the suit made him even hotter to you. His silent but deadly confidence exuding off his skin. You really couldn’t take your eyes off him, sitting on the foot of his bed and leaning back on your hands. Oh you’re getting some ideas watching his big hands brush down his fit pecs, over that perfectly stitched star and the stripes covering his rock hard abs, grabbing the utility belt as he proudly stands in front of you. Like good ol Cap. Your core tingles, locking your playful gaze with his smoldering smoky blue stare. Spreading your legs wider with your growing grin. The corner of Bucky’s lips reaching beyond his left ear exhaling a hard sigh through his nostrils.
“So…what…you the new Cap?” Your brow twitches in intrigue as your teeth pinch your stretched bottom lip, lifting your chin at the soldier in cosplay. Bucky cocks his head to the side, assessing the scene before him. Checkin you all laid out on his bed like that has got him thinking maybe he should play along.
“Mmm if you want me to be…” His cool metal fingers run through his long soft hair with that charming smile that really makes you swoon. You could have some fun with this.
Story with you and Bucky is…sometimes y’all like to fuck around, more so when no one’s around and either of you are a little bored and a little horny. And since the place is usually empty, the romps are fun, chaotic and noisy. That’s why you came round, nothing else to do so let’s do Buck. The treat is busting him like this is…and it’s turning you on so much.
Softly lifting your barefoot off the floor you tease, “you’re too…bad to be the sweetie Steve Rogers, Buck…” and rest your toes directly on his stiff dick he proudly displays just for you. “Too…sly to be goodie two shoes Cap…”
Sinisterly chuckling to himself he slowly rolls his shoulders, sighing away a moan when you start to stroke him with the ball of your foot. Seeing him getting all worked up works you up, parting your lips to take a refreshing breath. Bucky so hot against the rough material behind your toes. He licks his pink lips and takes a menacing step towards you, bending your knee a bit.
“Is that a challenge? Don’t think I can be a good ol boy like Steve?” He works to steady his paced pants; the arch of your foot pressing harder as you rub up and down his length. Another careful step takes an enticed groan from your anxious body. Your knee bending more but you don’t stop feeling up on him, huffing a chuckle when his lids flutter close. Your weighted breaths match his, your slit so warm and fuckin excited.
“Mm I know you can be a good boy…” you gasp when his dick throbs, “but be like Steve…?” Trailing off you deliberately shake your head, moaning a little louder as he closes in on you, grabbing your ankle and tossing it off him.
“Hmm,” his deep timbre echoes lowly in his broad chest dipping down between your wide open legs, “I don’t know…I’m feeling very,” distracting you with a small kiss on the bridge of your nose Bucky pulls your damp cotton shorts to the side to tease your lips with his middle finger, “…noble and righteous. Can’t do that disgraceful thing you love so much.” He purrs barely grazing your needy lips with his scruffy ones, pushing harder at your entrance just to hear you whine,
“But Bucky…” lapping at his disgraceful lips, wishing he’d kiss you already if he’s going to be teasing your pussy like this.
“No, no sweetheart,” the tip of his nose nuzzles yours as he shakes his head pinching your clit, “it’s Captain to you. And that’s how you’ll address me in this suit, understand?”
Groaning and squirming beneath him Bucky pinches you harder, waiting for you to correct yourself with a small sadistic laugh. Still millimeters away from your noisy mouth, tongue moistening your dry lips, and he still won’t taste you.
You loudly gasp out, “Yes Captain!” His fingers go back to gentler touch, finally kissing you so tenderly you strain your neck to push harder but he inches away. That’s not his thing. His metal fingers stroke and play in your hair, getting a kick out of you silently begging for more.
“Oh—oh baby.” You fret with a pout still patting for his curly lips. “Harder…” A small whimper parts from your sad lips and Bucky just laughs at you growing wetter the more he plays between your pounding walls. His crotch so hot you can feel it beating down on your thigh. You wish he’d rest it near your folds; you just want him to be close.
“Your Cap is a gentleman, remember?” Another sweet kiss releases an infatuated sigh, slithering over his bed. His fluid touch along with the faint fragrance of Steve winds you the fuck up, “Tell Captain what you want sweetheart.”
“Oooh Cap. I want…aw shit,” you gulp and choke on nothing, “I want you to fuck the shit out of me.”
Bucky snatches his hand away from your dripping folds and shoves those pussy ridden fingers deep over your tongue.
“Such a foul mouth. You know Cap doesn’t like bad language.” Bucky grunts into the back his hand that’s being roughly sucked clean of your wetness, his mouth watering along with yours. “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t know how to act.”
“Mmmmmsorry Captain.” The words vibrate around his pruning skin, your folds throbbing around nothing. She’s enthusiastic to suck his fat ass cock deep inside. It’s been a while she really missed him.
Bucky grumbles gracing your aching jaw, “Gonna have to keep my fingers down your throat since you don’t know how to act.”
His cool hand against your blazing skin gives you the chills as it soothes down your body, going for the buckle of the pants and taking his sweet time unsheathing himself just to torture you some more. Bucking your hips, huffing and whining behind his thick fingers fixed securely between your jaws, you call out to “him,” trying to get a peek of his meaty cock tumbling out but your view is distorted by his big chest.
“Oh. Oh Buck!—I mean—Captain! Captain…” Drool starts to fall from the corners of your lips and down your chin your docile pleas all jumbled up behind his capable fingers. Bucky just about rips your shorts off so ready to knock it out. You’re so much fun…always coming up with scandalous shit on the fly…your smile damn near sinister when you saw him. It’s been too long since he’s realigned your spine. Stretched you out. Basked in your warmth. Tightening his grip on your lower jaw, he positions to ram his cock through your sensitive textured walls, slowly stroking and cupping the mushroom tip with little growls, relishing in your breathless mewls beating his intoxicated grin. Bucky’s eager breaths sound so good you gush, arching your back up with a muted gasp the moment you feel his head pushing through your folds.
“Mmm…missed her…” His jaw goes slack, eyes lazily closing, moaning an aww budging his way in, “Missed you…” He murmurs next straightening his dropped expression with a thirsty smile, knees weakening as he snakes his way deeper and deeper.
“Ooooh fuuuuck…” Fisting the covers you wail with glee, focusing on the sweet burn of Bucky stretching you out. It’s your favorite part.
“Such a dirty girl.” A stern yank is your punishment as he picks up the pace. “Fuckin filthy mouth.” He’s gunning straight for your spot, fucking into you with that sick Bucky smirk you absolutely love. “Obey your Captain or be punished.”
Fucking you so hard you’re bouncing off his thrusting hips. But will he punish you like Bucky or…
“Uugghh fuck!” You can’t help it; he feels so insanely good inside you, all you can scream is, “Fuuuuck Captain!”
“You rang?” Steve’s velvety crooning voice enters the room but you’re so in tune with Bucky’s punishing strokes you barely react. “I actually don’t mind cursing in the bedroom. If anything, a woman screaming fuck is like…a round of applause.”
His muted steps head for you guys entwined on the bed. Cutting your eyes away from the dark ones you’ve been gazing into you meet his radiant baby blues staring at you getting pummeled by his buddy. Also in one of his suits, Steve takes a seat.
“Well good afternoon Steve.” Bucky greets him in between grunts and clapping skin, licking at his drooling bottom lip.
“Buck.” He clips soothing a comforting hand over your sweaty forehead. “This what you needed the suit for today?”
Usually such a stark contrast between these two, in this moment you can’t tell who looks more dire: Bucky, who is tearing your pussy up or Steve, who is getting more and more enthralled with each desperate sigh Bucky smacks out of your heaving breast. Steve pushes the hem of your t-shirt up over your braless tits, sighing an innocent grin as he starts to fiddle with your nipples a little.
“Perhaps.” Bucky huffs a chuckle, adjusting his grip on your tongue. “Really, I just got lucky.”
Steve brushes away a tear forming on your lashes. “Hmm when you told me you’d been fucking YN, I definitely didn’t picture it being like this.” You yelp from a mighty pound as Bucky stills, grinding his hips round in a circle. Steve’s gaze scans down your shaky body. “Do you think I can be so lucky?”
Removing his sticky salty fingers from your tired open mouth Bucky stands and says, “only one way to find out. Just ask her.” He winks, resting his hands on your bent knees to push them back towards you and the bed. Nervous eyes darting between the two men in Captain America uniforms. An angel and a devil. Mildly whining and gasping, you never thought you’d ever be shared between homies. Besides, you have a good thing with Bucky so Steve was on your “not even if you’re wasted” list. But now he’s here, preparing to ask with such real intentions,
“What do you think, YN? Hmm?” His timid fingers inch over your dry lips with his charming smirk, “need a break from mean ol Bucky?”
Your breath audibly catches once he kisses you, carefully slipping a fragile tongue over your lips to moisten them. A kiss so soft and pleasant you sink into the mattress with a delighted moan. That’s the only yes he needs.
Bucky frowns. “Hey. I was pretending to be you.”
Steve releases you breathless but mockingly laughs at Buck, standing off the bed. “Oh Buck…you could never be me…not even on an off day. Now…” Steve slightly nudges him away, “move to the side pal.”
You necessarily didn’t want Bucky to go. He’s too damn good. Familiar. But then there’s Steve staring at you like he’s going to eat you alive but kindly…like with manners. You practically sob when Buck relieves your channel of his weight, a hand going for his thinking he’s leaving but Bucky’s backing away to get out the suit entirely. Steve stripping as well. Christ you’d never seen such a beautiful sight, rippling muscles and mischievous smirks and glances as they shed themselves.
“Aww don’t worry baby. We’ll get back to you in just a moment…but in the meantime…” Bucky snaps a couple times at you and with a compliant exhale, you slip two fingers over your clit. Steve marvels at your reaction time, so turned on by the sight of your palpitating entrance oozing your wetness he has to touch himself.
“A fuckin vision.” Seeing his big hand firmly gripping and pumping his thick ass dick really has you reeling, pumping your hole faster which in return makes Steve stroke faster rolling his head back with an airy sigh. Bucky aggressively snaps again, warning you to slow down, snatching Steve’s attention back to your pussy. Looking over to him you bite back sensitive whimper as you slow down your movements, squirming your hips side to side. Steve throbs at your silent interaction, at your folds getting even wetter under Bucky’s punishing glare.
“May I?” Asks Steve, so hard it started to hurt he’s dying to fuck that sopping wet hole.
“Go ahead.” He slightly shrugs walking over to you still rubbing circles round your fat clit. “I want her throat anyway…” He muses climbing up on the bed, his sneaky smile never breaking, taking your hand and enclosing it around his dick still wet. As soon as you grip him, you start jerking him off but Steve steals your attention with his fat fingers playing in your essence. Shutting his eyes a shaky sigh sounds with a long lopsided grin.
“Mmm…soaked,” his lids flutter back open, “just how I like it.”
Slamming his hands on your knees, Steve simultaneously pushes your legs back, spreading you wider so he can shove his dick between your hungry, drooling pussy lips. You two shout together but yours is cut short by Bucky’s dick filling your agape mouth. Your fingers squeeze the base of his dick out of shock but he loves that, growling out to the ceiling. Steve’s so deep his whole beefy body shudders with a low moan, throbbing against your wildly convulsing walls.
“Oooh-hooo my god…fuck…” he chokes and gasps, waiting a moment before he slowly drags himself out. “Fuck it’s too much.” But his hips move anyway, sinking further with a struggled groan, pausing for another moment. “Too tight,” another sigh, another timid but deep stroke, “too wet, fuck.”
“She’s fuckin magical…” Bucky moans in reply allowing you to take control since he’s taught you so damn well. “Isn’t that right baby?” His thumb traces over your swollen bottom lip as you willingly nod slurping at his fat dickhead. Your tongue hanging out as he fucks your gagging throat, keeping your eyes locked on that crooked smirk. Always admires how hard you work to get him off he hums back his longing groans. “So damn pretty with my cock in your mouth baby.”
“Fuckin beautiful,” chimes in Steve with a pleasant moan, rolling his hips with precise strokes like he knew exactly where your spot is. Mesmerized with the way your pussy constantly spurts around his girth. All your aroused sounds stuck behind Bucky’s leaky dick. A hand still fisting the bedding that you swore you’re ripping apart. Completely stuffed by two incredibly strong but weaken noisy men using your body to get them off. Use me…that’s the only thought in your fucked out brain. Every inch of you entirely numb, nerves buzzing, so sopping wet maybe you’ve cum once or twice already you can’t tell anymore. Bucky feels so damn good. Fuck Steve even being inside you blows your damn mind he feels so good your walls bond to him, milking him, and the pressure stutters his motions with a low grunt.
“Ugh god you’re gonna make me cum beautiful.” Which forever reason motivates Bucky to strum your clit for his best friend sending you both into hysterics. Your spine snapping up you damn near choke on a scream and on Bucky. Steve almost collapsing, losing his grip with a shout. Bucky just chuckles and throbs on the verge of coating your esophagus. “You’re an asshole.” Steve breathes trying to regain focus because he can feel what Bucky’s announcing.
“She’s about to cum…,” his voice breaks, chest drastically rising and falling climbing higher and higher still pushing you to break, “in three…two…Steve wraps both thick arms around your thighs and pounds into your slit harder. Bucky releases you to feverishly pump his dick and just to hear you holler,
“Holy shit! Oh my god! Oh Steve!” Cumming so hard, your legs lock and cramp, walls flutter so much they push him out but Steve’s determined, fucking into even as you dissipate until he pulls out and finishes on your stomach and thighs with hard breaths, blinking to regain his sight. Bucky loves the way you moan his friend’s name so much he paints your quivering breasts with a bitten smile, huffing and panting curse words to himself.
“Such a good girl.” He purrs down to you dragging a few fingertips in his cum for you to lick off. “Pretty girl…so good for me aren’t you.”
Nodding with wide loving eyes, you whisper with a modest grin, “yes Bucky.” You nuzzle his palm, showing your appreciation.
“Steve?” He calls out to him never taking his eyes off your sweet exhausted face but doesn’t wait for him to answer. “Tell YN thank you.” It’s his turn to have you all to himself which is well communicated in his lust blown gaze.
Laughing breathlessly Steve runs his hands over his face and ruffles his fluffy hair catching the hint.
“Thank you beautiful. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”
But you guys don’t hear him, too caught up in each other as he gathers his shit to leave. Bucky caresses your cheek and softly kisses your forehead. The switch is flipped. As much as you love your beast you surely can’t get enough of your teddy bear.
“You tired baby?” A hefty tired sigh is your only response which makes him snicker. “Come on.” His pretty lips mumble over you damp skin, gathering you up in his big arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up…” Cradled he carries you to his bathroom and grumbles in your ear, “Then you’re gonna cockwarm me for several hours to remind that pussy who you belong to.”
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Hello and welcome to my masterlist!
Please note that the majority of my works are 18+. Navigate with caution and DO NOT ENGAGE with my work if you are not of legal age. I will block if there is no age listed and if you are under 18.
I no longer have a tag list. Please follow @synths-library and turn on notifications. I’ll be reblogging my new content there.
My header is by @imissyourbattlecries.
Please read this before you send me an ask on my fics.
Most of what I write is Marvel but honestly, anything goes as long as I feel the challenge to try 😘. The majority of my fics are dark. I have a soft spot for Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and Sebastian Stan’s characters - I know, not a shocker, ha. Requests/asks are CLOSED at the moment. As a reminder, I don’t write RPF. You’ll see one listed that was a challenge entry.
I also strive to be inclusive with readers and body types unless specifically noted. The majority of my fics are written for black women because, well, I write what I am 🥰 but I like people to insert themselves into the stories so my tags will be noted as such if I am making a particular piece a love letter to my melanin readers. Please read and respect them.
As a reminder, I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted anywhere (even if you give credit) BUT I more than welcome re-blogs and comments. I’d like to get more recs, so please help me out so that I can be introduced to more fantastic writers! I have been completely bowled over by what I have been reading. Everyone is so talented!
Thank you for reading my lil fics and I hope you have a fantastic day!
If no one has complimented you today, I will.
[ U P D A T E D 2/8/2021] • I like my fics in alphabetical order so I’m in the process of moving things around. If you would like to be added to any of the tag lists for the fics below, please let me know and thank you for reading!
divider by @firefly-graphics.
[as of 5/10/21 my masterlist is under construction while I try to streamline my content. please excuse the mess!]
You can find my mini-masterlists here:
STEVE ROGERS / BUCKY BARNES
• You Go To My Head • A stranger at a diner with a violent past hitchhikes his way to Los Angeles in the 1960′s, intent on passing through until a small act of kindness from a waitress catches his eye and his heart.
[Anyone can read at the moment. Arvin Russell x Black Reader. There is fluff, some angst, mentions of time period racism.]
One, Two, Chapter Three is in the works
* Easy On The Soul • To the world, he’s the Falcon. To you, he’s Sam Wilson.
[Sam Wilson x Black Female Reader - anyone can read]
• And Then There Were Three • Being Tony Stark’s surrogate starts off fine until he pays you a visit.
[Dark! Tony Stark x Pregnant Reader, no warnings needed]
Savage and an Angel
Fire in the Lungs
[18+ August Walker x Black Reader, smut, one-shot]
• The Pleasure is Mine • You’re back home from being on set, where you worked behind the scenes. You and Henry had embarked on a flirtation that finally comes to fruition when he answers a text from you after not hearing from you in a while.
[18+ Part of a challenge. Currently I am not not doing anymore RPF.]
Dark! Geralt of Rivia [Requested, 18+]
Bound in Time - Dark! Doctor Strange [Made Up Fic Title, anyone can read]
dark! geralt of rivia [ask]
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guys like me
Title: Guys like me
Pairing: Soft Dark Skinny!Steve x Reader
Warnings: Dark!Steve, a very light sprinkling of era appropriate misogyny, noncon, breeding kink, unprotected sex, overstimulation, squirting
A/N: i literally saw a Skinny!Steve photoset and this came out of me. please let me know if i’ve missed any warnings! a little dark smut to get your weekend started off right 😂 what can i say? i just… really wanted some Dark!Skinny!Steve, and apparently my muse wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. kind of like steve in this fic.This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! Minors, DNI!
anyway, enjoy! 😘
Girls like you don’t look twice at guys like him. That’s why Steve just gapes at you as you offer him your hand. You’re so beautiful and he’s so nervous he can’t even speak, so he just…stares.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bowl you over,” your voice is apologetic, and you smooth an errant curl out of your face. He’s never seen hair like yours—not up close, anyway. It wouldn’t be proper. But this is one of those secret-type jazz clubs, and he knows the social rules don’t apply here, so he gingerly takes your hand and you help him to his feet.
“Thank you.” His face is beet red, he knows because his cheeks are flaming hot, and his breath is coming in short pants. “I, um—” Bucky slings an arm around his shoulder.
“Easy tiger,” he jokes, giving Steve’s shoulder a playful punch. He can hear the grin in Bucky’s voice, and when he looks over at his friend, he hates the way his eyes slide appreciatively over your pretty pink sundress, the tops of your shoulders just exposed. He hates even more the way you smile bashfully and look away.
Always guys like him.
He loves Bucky, he’s more than a brother—Steve pointedly tries not to think about the stolen kisses in alleyways, the feel of Bucky’s hand in his—but it would be nice if for once, pretty girls like you paid attention to guys like Steve. He knows he’s short and skinny and weak, but he could be a good man if someone would let him.
He wants you to let him.
He tries to stand a little taller, and you smile softly at him. “Well, y’all have fun.” he hears your friends tittering as they lead you away, and you cast one last look at them over your shoulder before turning away. Buck gives Steve another little cuff on the chin.
“Aiming high tonight, huh?” he chuckles. “You want a drink?” Steve nods, his eyes still following you through the crowd as you begin to dance. It’s hot and crowded, and bodies mash together with no sense of propriety, so with liquid courage burning in his gut, he asks you to dance. You wipe sweat from your forehead and nod, grinning.
It’s like you’re the only two people in the whole club. He never wants this moment to end—but of course it does when Bucky butts in, sweeping you away with his charm and good looks, and for the first time, Steve hates him for it.
But even that can’t erase the feel of your hand in his, the warmth of you underneath that pretty dress, the smell of your skin.
It’s worth the tightness in his lungs when he lays down to sleep that night, reefer smoke staining his clothes and alcohol on his breath.
Every Saturday. He sees you every Saturday. It’s worth the long train ride up to Harlem, worth the line he waits in outside just to see you. Bucky tries to get him to go to different clubs, but this is the only one Steve will agree to—
It’s the only one you go to.
And when he finds you in the crowd again, a little piece of him shatters when you light up at the sight of Bucky—before your eyes slide kindly over to him. “Hey guys.” Steve wants to pound his best friend’s face in as he grins cheekily at you.
“Hey doll. How’s about a dance?”
Worst of all, he knows Bucky doesn’t care. Doesn’t want you like Steve does, won’t take care of you.
Not like Steve can.
He broods and broods all night, getting progressively drunker as he watches you dance tirelessly. He almost drops his glass when Bucky brushes his lips along your cheek—can’t wait any longer—and he stands abruptly. He can’t wait any longer, can’t wait for you to see how good he is—
He’ll just have to make you see.
He waits until Bucky slips outside for a smoke, and he approaches you. “Hey, um, you wanna dance?” He can barely keep up with you, but you’re sweet and you slow down for him so he can match your moves. In return, Steve buys you a drink. And then another. And another, until you’re swaying in his arms.
“I-I feel dizzy.”
“Let's go out for some air,” he suggests, knowing he has no intention of bringing you back in. He hasn’t seen Bucky, which is good because he doesn’t want to have to explain himself. You’re leaning against the brick wall outside, catching your breath. It’s January, but you don’t feel the cold—you’re sweaty and overheated from the dancing and the drinks, and Steve can’t help but stare at your flushed face.
“I should find James…” Steve scowls.
“No, stay here. W-with me.” he says softly, catching your hand as you wobble. “He’s… I mean, Buck’s my friend, but… between you and me, he’s not exactly on the straight and narrow.” The vitriol slips out of him before he really knows what he’s doing, but the venom on his tongue won’t let him stop.
“What?” you say in a small voice.
“I mean… I saw him leave with someone else. You deserve better than that.” you sniffle. “Let me take you home, at least.”
He holds your hand the whole walk home, and when you reach the building where you rent a room, he helps you up the stairs, your knees weak and wobbly. He locks the door behind him as you kick off your shoes.
“Thank you, Steve.” you give him a tired smile as though you expect him to leave, confusion growing in your eyes when he doesn’t. “Steve?”
“Why do you like him?” he asks, and you scrunch your face at the question.
“What? Steve, I-I think you should go—”
“He doesn’t give a damn about you, so why? Why him?” Why not me? He hates the little fearful look that flits across your pretty features, and he immediately apologizes, putting his hands on your shoulders and rubbing soothing circles onto your flesh through the fabric. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I just… I like you so much, and Buck, he… he’ll just use you!” you whimpered at his harsh tone.
“Steve, you’re scaring me.” your plump lower lip trembles, and tears are gathering in your beautiful eyes.
“I’m sorry sweet. I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you. I want to make you happy. Will you let me?” He pulls at the straps of your dress, and your hand comes up to push him away, but you’re drunk and sloppy and uncoordinated, and Steve catches it easily with his own. He presses his mouth to yours and he tastes the gin, but underneath it is you, soft and sweet like he knew you would be.
He can’t believe he’s finally kissing you and you let out a frustrated little mumble as your hands fist in his shirt. For once he’s the bigger one, he’s the stronger one, and it sends a rush to his head as he pushes you backwards onto the bed.
“No! I don’t want to wait anymore. Why? So you can run back to James?” he spits his friend’s name out like a curse. He’s working feverishly at the buttons of your dress, and you push at his hands. Anger fuels his movements, and a button pops off, rolling under the bed. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? If I was James, you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” he says accusingly, and you shake your head quickly, tears spilling out of your wide eyes.
“N-no. I like you, Steve.” he knows you’re just trying to placate him, but it works, and his features soften. “I—I don’t want you to hurt me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you sweetheart.” He wipes your tears away with the pad of his thumb. “I’m going to make you feel good. You’d like that, right? Dames like it when guys make ‘em feel good.” He pulls aside the two halves of your dress, and he groans at the sight of your lacy black bra and garters, and God your fucking stockings. He thumbs at your nipples through the fabric, pleased when they stiffen under his touch.
Steve tugs the cups down and goes hot at the sight of your breasts, buoyed by the lace. “You’re so pretty, doll.” he breathes, running his fingers down your trembling stomach to stroke the curve of your vulva through your panties. “First time I saw you, thought I was gonna die, you were so pretty.” He drops his face to the space between your breasts, rubbing his nose along your skin before turning to suck a pert nipple into his mouth. You moan reluctantly and the sound is small, but it echoes in the quiet room.
Steve releases your nipple with a pop, watching with satisfaction as it pebbles in the cool evening air. He repeats the action on your other breast, all while rubbing his fingers against the dampening crotch of your panties. He smiles triumphantly, before he kisses his way down your belly, feeling the muscles jump and flex under his touch.
He hooks his fingers underneath your panties, and the fight seems to come back to you, and you try to squeeze your thighs shut around him. He sinks his teeth into your thigh in response, hard enough to draw blood. You cry out, sobbing.
“See, doll? I don’t want to hurt you. Shh, don’t cry.” Steve reaches up to stroke the side of your face. “Let me make you feel good.” he repeats, laving the sluggishly bleeding bite on your thigh with his tongue. Your legs fall open after that—defeated. He’s never done this before, but he knows he can make you feel good if he tries hard enough. He’s good enough for Buck, isn’t he?
He peels the damp fabric of your panties down your thighs, and groans at the sight of you. Your thighs twitch with the urge to close again, but Steve settles you with a stern look. He drags one finger up your slit, collecting your juices before wrapping his tongue around it, moaning. “Taste so sweet, doll.” he follows the same path with his tongue, and your hips arc up off of the bed. Steve grins against you. “Told you I would make you feel good.”
He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. He doesn’t care that your walls are thin, that the neighbors can certainly hear what he’s doing to you as you cry desperately underneath him. He licks down to your tight hole, and groans at the thought of his cock in you, squeezing him so good. “Buck ever make you feel like this doll?” he slides a finger into your tight center and marvels at how soft and tight you are, every slick sound like music in his ears.
“Good.” he suckles your clit as he curls his finger inside of you, and you wail, your thighs trembling as you soak his chin with your release. Steve’s so hard it almost hurts, and all the nights he’s spent fucking into his own hand aren’t preparation enough for this. “Oh God, doll, you don’t know what you d-do to me,” he mutters, fumbling his pants down just enough for the weight of his cock to spring free, bouncing against his stomach. It’s red and angry, veins throbbing hotly on the underside as precum gathers at his tip. “I can put it in, r-right sweetheart?” he asks, though he isn’t really asking.
“Wait, Steve, I don’t—”
“It’s okay, doll,” Steve mumbles feverishly, his eyes rolling to half mast as he slides against your slick folds with a squelch. “Shhh. If you get knocked up, that’s okay, right?” he’s not even really talking to you, the mumbled words falling from his lips before he can process them. He pushes against your entrance, and it only takes a little force for the head of his cock to pop inside and he hisses. “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart…”
He tries to remember what Buck’s taught him about this, about how to make it good for her too, and he pushes in slow as your heels dig hard against his thighs. There are tears on your cheeks even as your pretty pussy welcomes him inside. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he pants, and he has to force himself to stop.
“You’re… bigger. Than I’m used to.” It’s funny how those words fill him with rage and pride all at once. He can’t keep still anymore, not with your cunt sucking at him and throbbing all around him, and the knowledge that his cock is stretching you so much—“Oh, oh, God, Steve—”
He looks down at the place you’re both connected, watching mesmerized as the length of his cock disappears into you over and over, glistening with your wetness. You’re so tight, he can see you stretching around him as he fucks you open. It’s so perfect—he can see why Bucky’s sweet on you now, more than the others. Pathetic. Never even licked her out, he thinks angrily, reaching up to cup your breast and tweak your nipple. You squeeze around him and he gasps, choking for air.
“So fucking good, doll, so fucking good, so—” he can’t stop. Steve knows he’s like a broken record, but his brain is on autopilot. All he can do is try to get as deep inside of your soft, pliant body as he can—and he’s trying to. He forces your thighs down to your chest, and slams his hips down into yours. That’s all it takes before you’re cumming again, and Steve doesn’t know how he stands it; the clenching wetness and warmth gushing around him as you keen and claw the sheets below you. He powers through it, his cock sinking into you as you come crashing down.
“Steve—Steve please,” you wail, your hands pushing at his shoulders as the words come through your sobbing moans. “I can’t, I can’t again—”
“Shh, yes you can baby.” He cups your face as he continues rutting into you, chasing his own end. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay—” you’re crying again, tears leaking down your cheeks and he kisses them away before resting his forehead against yours. He wants you to forget the feel of anyone else inside you, wants you to only remember his face, his cock.
“Oh shit, doll,” he’s breathless and his chest is burning from the exertion of holding you down, of fucking you so hard, but he has to—how else will he make sure you’re his otherwise? “Gonna fill you up. You want that, right? You want to be my girl, right? Fuck, gonna make you my girl. Gonna—” It’s better than it’s ever been, and as he comes apart so do you, clenching and squeezing around him. It’s like you’re fucking milking his cock with your velvety walls, and he’s never going to get enough of this feeling.
He rests on top of you for a moment, catching his breath. It takes a while for his chest to expand properly, and he knows he’ll pay for these exertions later, but as he pulls out slowly, the sight of his cum spilling out of your well fucked cunt makes it worth it. Steve lays down next to you in your bed, and frowns when you stiffen.
“I—” you glance nervously at him. “I w—what if I get pregnant?”
“P-people won’t… it won’t be accepted. We’re not even married!” your panicked voice makes his heart clench.
“Then we’ll get married.”
Six years. You’re free for six glorious years. Calvin likes it in Queens, and your aunt doesn’t mind you staying with her as long as you pay your share of the rent on time. No one says anything about you being a single mother—there are plenty of women whose husbands are gone in the war, and plenty more whose husbands aren’t coming back at all.
You hope you’re the latter.
You work as a receptionist downtown, and while it’s not much, it’s more than enough to provide for Calvin. You love him, in spite of everything, even though sometimes when you look at him, all you can see is Steve. The name sends shivers down your spine, and you clutch the handrail tighter as the train wobbles.
It’s when you’re halfway up the block from the train station that the distinct feeling of wrongness hits you, spreading through your chest. Calvin is usually outside playing under your Aunt’s watchful eye, but today your son is nowhere to be seen. You rush into the house, your throat tight.
“Cal? Cal where are you—”
“Mama! Daddy’s home!” your son crashes into your legs, barreling in from the kitchen and cold dread dawns on you as you parse out his words. In the sitting room, you see a man. Tall, leaned against the wall by the fireplace. He’s holding one of the pictures of you and Calvin, studying it. Your breath unhitches. This can’t be Steve.
“Sir?” you ask tentatively, and he stiffens and turns and—oh God.
“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me, sweetheart.” he smiles at you softly, and you force yourself to smile back, even though you’re shattering into a thousand thousand pieces. He pulls you into his arms, and you raise your own to rest stiffly on his shoulders as he buries his face in your hair. He’s so big now, taller than he’s ever been—the size of him is claustrophobic, weighing down on you. “God I missed you. Thought about you every day. Did you think about me?”
“Yes.” you answer honestly. “I did.” he leans back to trace your lips with a soft finger.
“And you missed me, right?”
“I missed you so much.”
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Misunderstood Choices Chapter 10
Nothing could have prepared Steve for what he had just witnessed. The last time Steve saw Y/N was at the restaurant, usually he would see you in passing, either see you cooking or refilling the pantry in his house, you tried to exchange pleasantries, something he had no interest in doing. He hated the clinginess you displayed, trying to talk to him, engage him in your life, whenever you were in the same room.
He had not expected you to be working in a software company, he had certainly not seen you this confident, you were always meek and mousy around him and the very many socialities you interacted with, in the parties that Arthur made you attend. You were easy prey to those predators. But this confident Y/N was another person, he also noticed that you didn’t use either of the powerful last name associated with you by birth and by marriage. You were a Vincent and still, you used ‘Y/L/N’, he really should have done some research before marrying you.
Steve had so many thoughts running in his mind during the meeting, he had forgotten to listen to the conversation, Sam and Bucky seemed stunned to see you as well. He was pretty sure the only person paying attention to the conversation was Randall, the only conclusion he reached was Randall was impressed, and Randall was not an easy man to impress. He noticed that you were avoiding meeting his eyes. You were purposefully engaging in conversation with Randall, Sam, and Bucky. And as soon as the meeting was over you left quickly. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks, but it almost looked like you were avoiding him.
Later that day……
“Did you know she was working as a Data Engineer?” Bucky asked Steve.
“Scratch that, do you even know anything about her?” Sam interjected.
“No, I had no idea, I mean she is an heiress, she has millions of dollars at her disposal, why would she be having a job? If anything I thought she’d be out socializing” Steve replied.
“He can get to know her once we strike a deal with Beyond Technologies” Bucky told Sam. Sam nodded.
“When did that get decided?” Steve asked.
“I think you forgot about an hour-long discussion we had while comparing software efficacies and market value, Randall will be drafting the contract by next week and we will be able to integrate it into our system by next quarter fully” Sam threw the projections paperwork in Steve’s direction.
“Look, Steve, we understand, you are under a lot of pressure, hell we all are, you need to get your act together, you are overworking, overthinking, and overanalyzing everything.” Bucky consoled.
“In other words, you are paranoid as fuck, get some sleep man, I know paying back Arthur Vincent is important, but you have to pump the breaks,” Sam added, while he signed some necessary paperwork.
“I am not paranoid” Steve retorted. Sam looked up, frustrated by Steve’s attitude.
“You are obsessed with work, you stay late just to avoid Y/N, you clearly have issues with her because you were forced to marry her, but that’s not true, you signed the contract, you could have walked away, she clearly is just living her own life and you have been nothing but shitty to her,” Sam replied, offering an eagle-eye view on the situation.
“Just take a deep breath and relax, go home early, I know you are dying to ask Y/N about the job,” Bucky summarised.
“Fine..fine if you want me to leave early I will, and you are right, I want to ask Y/N about her job, come on why would a billionaire’s heir be working in a software company?”
“She must be bored at home and clearly has better things to do unlike you who tries to dissect anything and everything related to her” Bucky answered.
Steve reached his penthouse a little early in hopes of talking to you. He wanted to get to know you. He waited for five hours in the living room hoping you’ll be home but when you didn’t come after 2 A.M. he decided to retire for the night. He mentally kicked himself for not asking you for your number after all you were husband and wife on paper.
Please leave your suggestions at -
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SOMEBODY WRITE THIS RIGHT NOW!!!! pls🥺
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I've been thinking about a priest trying to "save" the reader from demon Bucky, only to fail miserably and gets forced to watch Bucky fuck the reader in his own church
Pairing: Demon Bucky x reader
Warnings: Smut, kinda public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism Minors DNI.
Word count: less than 1.5 k (?)
A/N: Written on my phone while at work. Will edit later. Do not copy,rewrite, translate or repost my drabbles.
You're sitting in Father Roger's office wearing a demure white lace dress. The matching stockings go up to your thighs, held in place by a pair of wine red garters. Buckys favorites. He loves how innocent you appear when you dress like this.
Your eyes hover over the bookshelf to your left, it's filled with religious literature. Even more books are stacked on his desk. Various pens and crosses are scattered across the uneven piles of paperwork. The overhead light catches specks of dust that dance in the still air. The faint scent of damp wood seeps into your nose.
You eye a particularly pretty cross, your hand drawn to it. Touching the tapered edge, you giggle when you feel a spark sting your fingertips. Withdrawing your hand, you continue to study the room while you wait.
You hum under your breath, perking up when you hear footsteps approaching. Straightening up, you smooth down the front of your dress.
Father Rogers closes the door behind him with a heavy sigh. "I'm so glad you could make it today."
He steps into your line of vision. You give him an alluring grin, widening your eyes ever so slightly. "Of course Father," you say, keeping your voice soft.
Folding your hands on your lap, you blink up at him. Steve watches you closely as he takes his seat, his eyes hardening when he sees the finger shaped bruises decorating your neck.
"There have been rumors that you were seen at the old church and that you may have been engaging in--," he huffs, removing his glasses, he pinches the bridge of his nose. In all his years, he never thought he would be having this conversation.
You lean forward, placing your palms on his desk. "Yes Father."
"Excuse me." He says, his brows furrowing.
You get out of the chair, keeping your hands on the smooth wooden surface. "I did go to the church. I did call for Bucky. And those activities they're whispering about are all true." You smile proudly.
Steve exhales sharply. He tosses his glasses down and grabs your hands. "Child, do you know what you have done? It's not too late, I can help you. We can rid you of this demonic presence."
His impassioned rant fades when you tilt your head to the side. Your eyes drifting over his shoulder. You grin, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. "You hear that baby. He can rid me of your demonic presence."
Steve gawks at you, carefully withdrawing his hands. The sweet scent of lilacs and vanilla fill the musty air. The lights flicker changing from the dull yellow glow to an unnatural red.
Steve turns his head, startling in his chair. He curses under his breath, his heart hammering painfully in his chest as Bucky emerges from the shadows.
"Mmm language Father," Bucky purrs, gliding across the room.
He stands behind you, pressing down on your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. "Tell me, Father, just how do you plan on getting rid of me."
Goosebumps prickles across your skin as his large hands push your dress up your thighs to your waist. He plucks the garter, the band snapping on your tender skin. You hiss, loving the delicious sting. Bucky palms your ass. You hear shifting and rustling behind you.
Steve raises his hand, starting to form a cross. Bucky laughs a beautiful musical tone that makes you shiver. You're still not used to that mesmerizing sound.
Steve flinches, clutching his ears. He gasps when his hands are pulled down. His seat moving across the floor, the wheels squeaking and rattling as he's pushed to the desk.
Bucky licks up the side of your neck. He grips your hips and pushes into your slick walls with one firm thrust. Pleasure blooms from your core as he stretches you. Fuck, you never feel a burn with him, just pure bliss. You drop to your elbow, moaning as you blatantly stare at an aghast Steve.
Bucky grunts, snapping his hips into yours. "I'm so deep in her. She's so fucking tight." He lifts your hips and you cry out his name.
"You hear that Father," Bucky asks, a smirk forming as Steve struggles against his invisible bonds. Bucky pulls you flush against his chest, each stroke of his cock pushing you to your tiptoes.
He places his hand over your mouth, muffling your moans. The salacious wet sloshing of your cunt echoing in the small room is vulgar and filthy and it makes you even wetter, your slick dripping around his cock.
"Sounds like she doesn't want to let me go." Bucky taunts, lifting your dress, exposing your swollen pussy. Steves's eyes darken, a hoarse grunt caught in his throat.
"Her sweet cunt keeps sucking me back in." He groans, fucking into you harder and faster. You're not listening, too focused on the pleasure burning through your veins.
His tail wraps around your belly, keeping you still. Buckys mouth drops to your ear. "You know, I bet the good father is hard right now, bet his cock is aching to feel your tight pussy wrapped around him."
He flicks his wrist, lifting Steve out of the chair. Your grin hidden by Bucky's rough palm, he's right. Steve can't hide his lust-blown pupils, he definitely can't hide his cock straining the thin fabric of his pants.
You can help the moan ripping through your chest. Buckys large body surrounding you, Steve's piercing eyes on you. It's so debauched but you love every second of it.
"Aw look at that," he darkly chuckles. Bucky pulls your dress down exposing your tits, his thumb teasing your pebbled nipple while his long dexterous fingers circle your clit. "He wants you, little one, but you belong to me."
"Yes, yes I'm yours, all yours Bucky," you pant.
He nips at your bruised throat, his hips slapping into you so fast you're getting dizzy. It's too much, you're so close, so fucking close.
"All mine. Let's show him how pretty you look when you cum."
Steve crashes to the floor, his head tilted back as the desk flies across the room. His gaze locked on your pussy. "Cum for him, little one, let him see why your pussy is better than salvation. " He says, his fingers spreading your folds so Steve can see his large, thick cock pushing into your sopping core.
You clench down with a cry. It's a visceral reaction, the knot unraveling in your cunt, your body tensing as you fall apart.
"Good girl." Bucky groans, his deep voice rumbling across your skin. " Don't you agree, Steve?"
A sly grin cuts across his face, his blue eyes flickering to a deep black. "She's a very good girl."
He stands, shedding his cloak. "Now it's my turn to ruin her sweet cunt."
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—with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers; steve rogers
pairing: husband!steve rogers x black!wife!reader
word count: 4420
warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, face sitting, choking kink, daddy kink, oral sex (female receiving), female masturbation, slight pain kink, crying kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, overstimulation, finger sucking/fingers in mouth
squares filled: @star-spangled-bingo G2: “it always ends in a fight” ; @steverogersbingo D4: established relationship
request: steve rogers + face sitting + “don’t come yet”
author note: it’s been so long since i’ve written some steeb. i’ve missed him. anyway, as always these 5k fics will be tagged 5k...holy god, and prompts are in bold. enjoy :)
title inspired by lord huron what do it mean ; line divider by @whimsicalrogers
He tries his best to keep quiet but Steve’s as clumsy as a bull in a China shop. After all these years, he’s still not used to his size— a lazy shoulder thumping into door frames, a mammoth hand (you prefer to refer to them as paws because, come on, they’re fuckin’ huge) knocking over the various bottles of perfume, hairspray, and face creams that line the bathroom counter top. So, when you didn’t hear him come in last night, there’s only one of two reasons why. The last few weeks of wrangling a job, a dog, and a brand new chunky baby is catching up with you— or one hundred year old Steve Rogers is finally coming into his massive body.
It’s the first thing, in case anyone is wondering.
Friends often ask how you can stand being married to him. Your sister still actively tries to get you to join a dating app. It’s not fair that he leaves you without a minute's notice to run off and punch people, sis. Not only is it dangerous, it’s selfish. It’s simple, you tell her— all of them. You love the idiot. Sure, he disappears for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Fucks off to only God knows where to fight only God knows what for the sake of “humanity”, leaving you to man the fort; aka the dog he wanted, and the baby he begged for. But it’s worth it— he’s worth it.
Especially on mornings like this one.
The sun crept into the room at an alarming rate after you closed your eyes last night, which, well, now that you think about it might be because you’re more tired than what you realize. The light covered your face, made it hard to keep the dark behind your eyes, so you shifted a little and that’s when you felt it— him— as you surrendered to the day.
Just a mass of man. Muscle and skin draped over you like another blanket. A long arm is slung over your chest, bent at the elbow, fingers gripping your opposite shoulder. An equally long leg is sprawled over both of yours, helping to pin you down to the mattress. Warm breath tickles the side of your neck and shoulder as his face is crammed right up against your arm. His lips slightly parted as they press gently on your bicep.
Blonde, disheveled hair is matted to his forehead— he sweats a lot, Steve Rogers. That thick flesh of his keeps him a good five or ten degrees warmer than the regular human. Nights are the worst for him because you, in fact, run cold. So, the fan stays off, the windows stay shut, and you cocoon yourself under a pile of blankets.
The two of you have argued extensively over this. It’s plenty simple, you argue, just sleep on top of the covers! He scoffs and rolls his eyes, pushes out a deep breath through his nose every single time you bring it up, and then just crawls underneath the enormous duvet, two velvet quilts, and your thousand thread count top sheet and patiently waits for you to join him.
Steve, you always sigh, but a smile paints your lips the whole while. He never says anything, just holds out his hand and wiggles his fingertips until you take them and let him guide you into that big bed of yours. Let him wrap you up into his chest and arms and legs, lips dragging over your forehead as he smooths your hair back and away with those big, wide palms.
I like feeling you when I sleep, he always says.
A soft, sleepy smile covers your face when you realize he’s home. Blink slow at the ceiling as your fingertips graze up and down the arm slung over your chest. You always forget how good just having him here makes you feel. So each and every time, you just lay there for a while. Soak it in. His warmth. His weight. The calm of his breath. You say a little prayer to whoever is out there listening and give thanks that your man is home in one, well, one-semi piece.
He shifts, just barely, but it allows you to see more of that handsome face. It’s bruised, per the usual, but the blacks and blues and purples are fading fast. They’ll be green and yellow within a half hour, and then completely gone by time the clock strikes 8.
It always ends in a fight, babe, he always says while batting your hands away from a fresh cut or bruise, no need to fuss over it.
So, you don’t anymore. Fuss. You just reach out and caress that smooth cheek, brush your thumb real soft over his lip that you suspect was split when he first climbed into the bed. Watch him sleep as his weight crushes you to the mattress.
Yeah, it’s mornings like this that make it all worth it.
It takes a few minutes, but you regretfully untangle yourself from underneath the hunk of man spread out on top of you. You figure you have about exactly forty five minutes to an hour before the sharp scream of your chubby baby boy rings through the house and Steve’s up making a mess when he honestly doesn’t mean to, so you traipse into the bathroom and start the shower. Strip out of the t-shirt that Steve took from Bucky, which probably belonged to Sam in the first place, and pin your hair up before covering it with a shower cap.
The shower part of your routine is always the quickest, in and out within ten minutes which is honestly the truest testament to being an adult if there ever was one. It’s this part, where you get to sit at your vanity, the one Steve built with his bare hands a little more than a year earlier when the world finally decided to give him a little peace, that you enjoy most.
You’re in your robe, the silk loosely wrapped around your naked body, as you rub cocoa butter into your brown skin. There’s slow thoughts, but they don’t mean much as you dip the pads of your fingers into the little brown jar and rub your hands together absentmindedly as you glance towards the window. You just listen really. Steve’s deep, rhythmic breaths. The silence of the house— the dog hasn’t even wandered in yet, musing for his breakfast and the few stray pieces of bacon Steve tosses his way. The muted chirp of birds and wind as it blows up against the brick.
The world is small in this little hour you get to yourself. You can quantify it and that’s nice to do every now and again when you have a job, a dog, a baby, and a husband who punches things for a living. It’s nice to expect nothing after expecting everything and anything all at the same time, most of the time.
A little shift in the corner of your eye draws your gaze from the window to the bed. There he is. Two hundred and something pounds propped up on an elbow, his big head resting in an equally big palm. Just looking at you. Lips quirked up in a soft smile.
There’s a light laugh that bubbles up in your chest, eyes drop to your legs as you continue to moisturize, shy under his constant gaze still after all of this time but that doesn’t last long. You like looking at him too much.
So you just kinda look at each other for a beat or two, eyes dancing around skin and limbs and chests and everything else you both can manage to see.
Steve gets his fill faster than you do this morning, and tosses the mountain of blankets away from his body before he stands and stretches out like a cat. Heavy footsteps sound as he pulls himself into the bathroom— knocking his shoulder into the door jam as he goes.
“No good morning?” you call, keen eyes watching that perfectly sculpted, naked ass as it flexes with his movements, “What would your mama think, Rogers?”
The rush of water sounds. A light ‘fuck’ as the clink and clang of your perfume bottles fall against the marble sink. Those big ass hands of his.
“I’m not sure how you manage to knock those over every day.”
“You keep movin’ em.” he counters.
“I do not.”
“You keep puttin’ em,” the whir of an electric toothbrush, back and shoulder muscles tensing and flexing, “On my side of the sink.”
“There’s more natural light on that side.”
“Then take this side and I’ll use,” spit, “The other side.”
You glance back towards the window, rubbing your hands slowly within one another and shrug, “I like my sink. Drains faster.”
He chuckles and you smile, “Well then I guess you’re gonna have to get used to me knocking your shit over everyday.”
“Already am, dear.”
There’s a few more minutes of water, soft pats of his wet hands against his face as he washes away the sleep. Damp fingers through his disheveled blonde before he’s back in the room with you, pulling you to your feet.
Minty lips are pressed against yours, once, twice, three times before your top lip is sucked between both of his. Your heart flutters a little, seemingly skipping a beat as you just kinda melt into him— still not sure how an innocent little peck on the mouth can turn into this. Consuming. Soft and warm and wet. Kinda wistful? Like he’s wishing his days were filled with this and only this; you, his son, your dog. No secret missions or black eyes or blood staining his knuckles and suit. Just this.
Steve is too good at this. Grabs your hands with his and pushes his thumbs into your palms, grinding soft little circles into them. Thick fingers then slide between yours, curls around them when you’re palm to palm. That imperfect nose nestled right up against yours.
You could definitely just disappear. Curl up into his mouth and body— be no more. Just be a piece of him, and you’d be a-ok with that.
Another giggle sneaks up into your throat as there’s a new pressure pushing into your thigh. A quick glance downward and you’re gasping, eyes going wide as you disconnect from the warmth of his hands to toss two jelly arms around his shoulders and neck.
“Well that took all of five seconds. Good morning to you, sir.”
Steve tilts your head up and away, let’s his fingers linger underneath your chin as teeth and lips push along your neck, “He likes it when you call him sir.”
“I’m sure he does,” you laugh, eyelids trying all their might to stay open, “Steve,” you stress after a beat—or two— ok, three, eager fingers gripping firm shoulders, “Come on, babe. We don’t have time for this.”
“Why,” a hot tongue slips along your jawline, curls up just behind your ear, “Not?”
“Mmm… cuz um, uh… Joseph, he— he’ll be up any m-minute.”
Steve pulls away, glances back at the video baby monitor placed on your nightstand. He listens for a tick, blinking slow as that super soldier hearing zeros in. Only after he’s satisfied with whatever he heard, or didn’t hear, are you lifted from your feet, the silk robe that was barely clinging to your body as it was, slipping off to the floor in a heap.
Hands grasped firm around your ass (coping more of a feel than anything else), Steve falls back against the mattress, pinning your lower half to his.
“Come take a seat.”
“That’s incredible, you know.” you start, splaying your hands out on his chest.
“How you know when he’s about to wake up.”
Steve shrugs, “His breathing changes. Goes from deep to kinda shallow— get up here.”
You draw little patterns into his skin, trace the old silvery stretch marks that litter the almost golden perma-tanned canvas, “You can hear that? All the way down the hall?”
“Stop stallin’” he grunts, lifting you off his lap and placing you on his chest, “And sit that pretty pussy on my face.”
You tut, rolling your eyes playfully, but scoot closer and closer to his chin, “Say please.”
“Please come sit on my goddamn face, woman. Damn!”
Up on your knees now, Steve’s fingers skipping up your thighs and squeezing the meat of your hips. The mattress dips as your knees are on either side of his head. He threads his fingers with yours again, wants you to rest your weight into his hands as you ease down over that eager mouth.
Something chokes up in your throat. A moan? A gasp? You aren’t really sure— a mixture of the two you suppose, cuz the warmth that blooms across the inside of your thighs takes you by surprise and makes you shiver. You keep your hands in his as you wiggle some, adjusting your hips and inching forward so his lips and tongue can find that perfect little place. That sweet little nook that makes you—
“Ughhh, Steve,” yeah, that spot, “Baby.”
Fingers detangle from fingers and find their way into soft blonde hair but your hips don’t start to move quite yet. You like giving him a little time to familiarize himself with the territory— not necessarily because he needs to, but because he likes to build it up. Starts slow so he can savor it, makes it last until you’re writhing and crying. Clawing at him. Begging.
So you don’t move— not yet.
Steve let’s his hands linger, anchors one around your hip, his thumb pushing into the crease of your leg as the other skips up your stomach and between your full tits. He tongues your clit, slipping it along the length before flattening it over your slit. Slips it inside real quick as he thumbs a thick, hard nipple.
Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fingers grip his hair harder as his tongue works back over your clit, quick little flicks of the tip before sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. He releases with a smack, then presses wet lips to the inside of your thigh, kissing slow, perfect white teeth sinking into the soft flesh as those pesky fingers still prod at your tits.
It’s only a few seconds more before you give in, let your hips rock into his nose and mouth and chin. Lean forward when he hits that little spot again, sparks starting to bounce faster, harder. Steve locks eyes with you when you groan and jut your hips forward, forcing eager hips down to cop a feel. Then he smirks against your hot, sloppy wet cunt. Pushes out a breath through his nose, the rush of air stinging your clit.
His hands are on the move again, down your sides, around to your ass, flattening over the little pooch of a tummy Joseph has so lovingly left you. He gets a little louder, smacking more, moaning more as you lean back, grabbing his rigid cock to squeeze and pump it once, twice, three times in your warm palm. You find the tip wet, and can only imagine the deep red blush creeping down the length. Pushing a little further, your fingernails scratch through a rough patch of dark blonde hair before gently palming his balls, noting the heft, how drawn up and tight they are now.
Steve’s tongue stills and you’re instantly picking up the hint, pushing your knees up and out, flattening your feet to the mattress. You wrap your hands around his thighs, dig your nails in, and start to rock your hips into a velvet tongue and red, swollen lips. Head and eyes heavy, both lolling back as quick, high pitched little hums vibrate in your throat. Mouth going slack as the filthy, wet, sloppy sound of his tongue against your cunt grows louder with each buck of your hips.
He spreads your folds and slit open with that flat, wide tongue— the rough of it teasing your insides as you fuck his face hard and fast. Big, warm hands find your tits again, pinch and pull your piqued nipples. Then, one of those paws is wrapped around your throat without so much as a warning. Applying a gentle pressure, pulling out a sharp gasp and a deep, hard muscle tense.
“Don’t come yet,” Steve murmurs, “I want you to touch yourself.”
The words are rushed. Sloppy and slurred. He blows a breath against your cunt, hot and heavy airy sticking to balmy skin— sending a shiver right down your spine. You bring your knees together quick, wiggling back and forth as a long, drawn out groan slips through your teeth. When you don’t heed his warning, too busy riding the rushing high as quick flashes of a deep orgasm ripple through your body, synapses firing in rapid succession, brain going hazy, a heavy slap is leveled to your ass. The sting permeates through thick skin with force as you snap your hips forward, gasping sharp and loud.
Then he’s pinching the inside of your thigh, wanting you to feel his displeasure for your disobedience. You force your knees apart, taking deep breaths, eyes slammed closed as shaky whimpers whir in your throat, “I hear you… I’m sorry,” the words weak and pathetic— just how he likes them, “I’m sorry daddy.”
“Better be,” he mumbles into you again, “Touch yourself while you fuck my tongue, baby.”
Manicured fingers slip between your folds, immediately start to tease and massage that little nub. Steve holds onto your hips, drags his hands up and down your thighs, back up to your tits and nipples. Around your throat. Calloused fingers prodding at your lips, forcing your mouth open to push inside.
It’s not long before your panting. Drooling around his thick fingers as your hips snap hard, your own fingers thrashing against a swollen clit. Steve sucks at your cunt, his tongue dipping in and out as the sound of wet skin slapping against lips and tongue bounces off the walls.
“Steve, I can’t—” you mutter around the salty fingers still shoved in your mouth
He moans, shaking his head back and forth as he digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, holding tight. He mumbles something, but you don’t hear it— you can’t. You swirl your tongue around his digits, start to nibble on them as you slap at your clit. A molten heat bubbles in your stomach, leaks out and starts to spread through your veins. Muscles tremble— tighten up and then relax before shaking again.
This is the part Steve likes. When you’re whimpering— crying as you start to unravel. He holds tight, firm, tongue swishing back and forth, up and down, teasing that soaked, slutty slit. Fucking you with his tongue, just waiting for it to all pay off in the most beautiful, succinct, perfect way.
When that coil does snap, it lurches you forward. Your cunt spasms, clit jumping as your inner muscles convulse— and his tongue doesn’t stop. It keeps swirling, lips keep sucking as his fingers pin your tongue down to the bottom of your mouth, really making you a slobbering mess.
You have to lift off of him within seconds, sitting back on his stomach as your limbs involuntarily jerk with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You claw at his tits, digging your fingers in as your greedy cunt wants more— grinding against his abs, leaving a wet trail behind. Steve strokes your arms, from your wrists all the way up to your shoulders to help calm you. Massive hands grab your face as he showers praise as the ripples continue, thumbs pushing back into your mouth for you to suck on.
Steve sits up, pulls at the scrunchy collecting your wild, thick hair, to let it spill around your face before he lays you back onto the duvet, “Needy little thing you are, huh?”
You just moan in response, unable to formulate any real words as he moves you around. Wraps your legs around his waist, places your hands on his shoulders. A strangled grunt rises in your throat as he sinks into your sensitive, wet hole— spreads you open wide. Crushes his chest to yours, smothers you under his weight and warmth.
A hot breath washes over your face as he starts to move— quick strokes as his skin starts to slap soft against yours. He caresses your face, thumbs pushing over your cheeks and nose and lips as the tips of his fingers push into your hair,
“You’re my sweet girl, aren’t you honey?” he leans back just a bit, just to feel your nipples brush along his chest as your tits bounce with his rhythm, “Hmm? You’re my favorite girl?”
“‘m your favorite— favorite girl. Fuck! Oh, G— od.”
He kisses you, but each is brisk, not giving you enough to latch onto. Your head is then tipped back, off to the side to expose your neck so he can sink his teeth into the taut flesh— sucks on the prominent vein that protrudes. Deft fingers find a nipple again, pinches, licks and sucks on it before he grabs your lips between his teeth, pulling gently.
Your feet bounce against the small of his back with each of his thrusts. The tips of your fingers go white as they dig into thick skin and tenses muscles. Tears, hot and heavy, slip down the sides of your face.
“Oh, baby,” Steve hisses, cradling your face in his hands again, “You’re so good. So, so, pretty when you cry for me.”
And you’re coming again. Much quicker this time, but that’s what he was betting on— what he wanted. He wants you overstimulated, pushed to the brink of what you can handle and wants to push you right off the edge. So he can watch you unfold because he knows, deep down and proudly, that he’s the only man that can dismantle you.
As it should be.
Your ego is insane, you’ve laughed in the past when this very subject has come up before.
It’s why you love me, he’s argued back.
But, it often works against him. Wet muscles clamping down around him. Soft, sweet, almost helpless mewls and whimpers in his ear. The faint, filthy words that trip off your tongue. It all takes him down too. Steve Rogers may be a man’s man, but he knows when to concede victory.
He loves filling you up anyway. Filling you up until his hot, thick cum is spilling right back out of you. Loves how his fat cock takes up every inch of your cunt so his seed has absolutely nowhere to go as he drives deep and hard with each spurt. Loves the sound— the squeak of muscles and cum as he rests his forehead to yours, chokes back his grunts and growls while you eat it all up.
Your mouth hangs as you have to cover your face with your fingers, trying and failing to catch your breath. Steve pulls out, but only temporarily— he loves this part too. Pushing your legs forward to your chest to watch his cum leak out of you. It’s so warm, so silky against the delicate skin of your used sex.
He catches it, the string of his seed that escaped with his fingers and massages your folds, your clit, spreading it around before pushing those fingers right back into you. Strokes your hot muscles, curls his fingers, feels your heat and the squish of his cum and your slick as he fucks you slow. Throws his eyes back to yours when you gasp and twitch, trying to pull away.
“Stop,” you beg, pulling at his wrist, “Please, Steve.”
You’re begging because it feels so good it kinda hurts. You’re there and he knows it. To the point where you’re squirming to get away from those long fingers and the brush of his thumb over your hot, sticky clit. He shushes you as he pumps his fingers, presses his thumb against your nub to add more pressure. All because he knows you really don’t want him to stop.
Steve pulls his fingers from you when you're crying hard, lays back on top of you to wipe the hot tears away, “My pretty girl.” he coos, washing you in kisses because you need them.
Hot lips drag down your neck to your chest, suck on your smooth skin, leaving little dark marks behind to remind you of where he’s been. A thick thumb is back in your mouth as he nibbles a nipple into his mouth, flicks at it with his tongue real slow and soft. You hold onto his hand like a child, wrapping both hands around his wrist, sucking on his digit to ground yourself. Bring yourself back from the brink, back into the room, back to the bed.
“You with me, sweet girl?” there’s no real words from you, just a nod and a hum for an answer, “You gotta say it, baby.”
“Mmhuh,” you manage after a few seconds, swallowing thick before you push out a slow breath, “I’m ‘kay.”
“You sure? Tell me the truth.”
“I’m okay,” you breathe hard and heavy, “Promise.”
Steve sits up on his knees, bends your legs at the knee and pulls them open, spreading your folds and cunt open. Fingers push along your clint, squeeze it gently before he slaps it quick. As you’re gasping, his wet cockhead is pushing at your opening again, sliding easy into your used, hot hole.
“The baby, Steve. We can’t, there’s not enough time.”
“Shh, shh, shhhh,” he coos, wasting not a second before his hips are rolling, “I’ll get him if he wakes up.”
“You honestly think you’re getting away from me that easy?” the base in his voice splinters down to your core, “I’ve been gone for two weeks,” he says slow, pulling out again to roll you over onto your hands and knees, propping you up real pretty, “Gotta make up for,” he grunts, sliding his cock all the way in, until your ass is flush to his stomach, “Lost time.”
It’s probably in your best interest to start thinking of baby names again.
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Okay so I have recently discovered that I love when people like, tell me not to cuss.
Idk how to explain it. Like, when a dom tells their sub/little not to cuss, and they do it anyways and there’s consequences?
LIKE THAT’S SO HOT TO ME. I know I always rag on the “language” line from Steve but that gives me so many dirty thoughts.
Just imagine like, almost tripping or something, and saying “fuck” then you hear that low “what’d you just say?”
Like ohhh shit, it’s abt to go down.
I just feel like Steve would be the type to not like when you cussed.
“Can’t have such dirty words comin’ from a pretty mouth like this baby, can we?”
Just ugh, idk why I like that, especially when I cuss like a damn sailor
Lmaoooo I hate you!! @spikefromlr
Summary: Steve’s princess has a filthy mouth
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral (m), face fucking, belt choking, spit play, Alpine being a dick.
I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P
Steve would definitely be the one with the “no cursing” rule and he knows you can control your mouth so he doesn’t dare do strikes. If one slips out your mouth, you better hope he’s having a good day.
The last time you let a curse word taint your pretty tongue, he didn’t wash your mouth out with soap. That’s way too easy. No, he made sure to shove his cock down your throat over and over until you no longer had a voice for a week.
That was well over six months ago and you haven’t dared gotten close to cursing not once and he hasn’t been more proud of your progress. He even littered your face with kisses praising you for keeping your mouth clean of such bad words.
To him, his best girl doesn’t need to taint her lips with such foul words, and only he uses them when he’s balls deep in your tight little cunt every night. He states that it’s too perfect not to let a few curse words here and there.
Today started out like any other day, the house quiet as ever excluding the sound of Steve’s voice in his office. He had to take a quick zoom meeting with the Avengers to handle some things and then he would be all yours for the entire day. He had his door ajar as the meeting went on, listening to some of the members talking.
You were coming from the kitchen having grabbed a snack when you stepped and slipped on a toy ball laying mindlessly on the floor, “Shit! Fucking dammit Alpine!” you shrieked at the white furball. Laying on your back, you rubbed the side of your thigh as he gave soft licks to your face. So focused on the pain, you didn’t see Steve leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a stare that could have killed you
The pain was now gone but an ice coldness ran up your spine. Looking over at him with wide eyes, his face never changed as he spoke coldly, “My hearing must be going bad princess. But what’d you just say?” You lifted yourself up sitting on your bottom, downcasting your eyes. Knowing you were in trouble was sending you into a frenzy. “Ah ah ah. Eyes up here princess. What’s daddy’s rule?” he asked as you shot your eyes back up at him.
His one rule out of a few and you just broke it again. He told you that it would be worse the next time and you were doing so well. Taking a large gulp, your lips trembling as you spoke, “Daddy’s princess doesn’t curse,” you say in a defeated tone.
He let out a hum as he kept his eyes on you, “That’s funny princess. I counted 3 curse words in 2 seconds. Care to explain why?” The look in his eyes meant business and you didn’t want to make it any worse than it already was going to be.
Gripping the yellow ball in your hand and pointing to the observant cat, “It was Alpine! His ball was just on the floor. I didn’t look and I slipped and fell on it.” looking down again, you rubbed the soreness of where you fell.
Steve pushed himself from the door frame and over to you. Leaning down he gripped your thigh lightly, you wincing a little, “Shh it’s okay baby, nothing broken. Since that’s the case…” He trailed off, unbuckling his belt and placing it around your neck. Pushing the end tip through the buckle, he tightened around your neck, pulling at the strap. “Knees. Now.”
You scramble to your knees and press your palms flat to your thighs just how he likes it, your lip quivering as he stands over you. Steve sees the fear in your eyes, leaning to caress your cheek with his thumb, “Oh princess, daddy has to clean that filthy mouth of yours. You don’t want a dirty mouth do you?” he coos at you, watching as you shake your head from side to side.
Straightening up he releases his cock, the tip already leaking with clear fluid, “Good girl. Now take your cleansing and I might bathe your throat with daddy’s milk.” A whimper escapes your lips, looking up as your tongue spills from your mouth, Steve giving a hum of appreciation. He bends down releasing the slack of the belt, bringing his face level to yours. Gripping the sides of your face, spitting directly into your mouth.
He stands back up gripping his cock in one hand the belt strap in the other, shoving the tip past your full lips. Steve lets out a low groan, “Fuck princess, so perfect for such a nasty mouth,” he says leaning his head back as he rocks his hips back and forth into your mouth. He showed you mercy for a moment before wrapping the strap around his fist and plunging sharply down your throat.
Snapping his hips repeatedly, you feeling him reach farther in your throat, it clenching each time you gag and spit at the base. The noises escaping his lips each time it happens. Hollowing out your cheeks and breathing through your nose, you take his thrusts as your clench your thighs from the gush of slick coating your thighs.
Tears stream down your cheeks as the spit falling from the corners of your mouth mixes with the salty fluid. The arousal flooding your panties becoming too much and you needed a sense of release. Sliding your hand between your thighs, you cup your clothed core rocking against your palm, letting out muffled moans. Steve snapped his head down, seeing the sight before him.
He let out a sharp growl, pulling the belt tighter around your throat, “Move your fucking hand! If you think you get to cum,” he chuckles darkly, “Sadly mistaken princess,” he says before pulling the strap, making your look up at him. He pulled his cock from your lips, leaning down to spit down your throat again.
You moan from the slick fluid slide down your throat, catching your breath before it’s filled again with his cock. So enthralled with your punishment, you two didn’t hear the front door opening.
Bucky’s heavy footsteps enter in as he makes it in the house, standing still at the sight before him, “Well what did I walk in on?” he smirks as he looks over at you and Steve. He can hear the loud gags and slurps from lips and Steves grunts, his cock hardening through his jeans.
Steve grunts again, holding the leather in his hands, “mmph! Princess said a bad word. Fuck! Three to be exact,” slapping his hips faster as he balls bounce off your chin, “Had to clean her mouth is all. Wanna help buck?” He says to his friend and without being asked twice, Bucky stalked his way over.
Palming at his growing erection, he looking at your mouth being filled and smirking down at you, “Yeah punk, gotta make sure her pretty mouth is fully clean,” he says while releasing his jeans button and fishing his cock from them. Stroking it to full length your eyes widen at how thick and veiny it is.
Your throat tightens from the pressure of the belt, looking up at Steve, “Daddy’s gonna let Buck finish cleaning your mouth okay? Be good and you get double the milk,” you nod your head slowly, earning a small smile from him. He pulls his cock from your drooling mouth, handing Bucky the belt strap.
Bucky stands over you, cupping your face in his hands. He smiles down at you, pressing his lips to your forehead, “Hi princess, been a bad girl today huh?” you nod at him slowly, hearing his light laugh as he straightens back up, “‘s okay pretty girl, gonna help wash the filth from that pretty tongue.”
Steve stands to the side, wrapping his thick fingers around his length, watching Bucky slide his cock down your throat, “Shit! No wonder your daddy’s happy all the time. Fucking mouth is a dream,” he says letting out a breathy moan. You let your tongue swirl over his thickness tasting him fully. You let out a muffled moan squeezing your thighs together as Bucky thrust over and over into your mouth.
This spit and precum mix dripped from your chin to your chest, making it easier for him to abuse your aching throat. He pulled out momentarily, capturing your lips with his before spitting into your mouth. Your eyes rolled to white at the nasty act, swallowing every drop, “Been holding out on this perfect mouth punk,” he calls over to Steve.
Steve wraps his fist tighter around his cock, stroking it furiously as he watches you swallowing Bucky’s cock, “Have it whenever you want Buck. She doesn’t mind. Do you princess?”
You looking at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips, you let out a soft hoarse tone, “No daddy, I don’t mind,” you pant out, feeling the tug of the belt as Bucky invades your mouth. He wraps the strap tighter around his fist, sinking his entire length in your pulsing throat. He sinks his fingers in your tight curls holding your head in place.
Never taking his eyes off you, he pushes your head down, your nose touching his pelvis. He holds you there tightening the leather around your neck. Your throat constricts around his cock, cursings spilling from his mouth, “Fuck princess that’s how you do it. ‘m not gonna last in this pretty mouth,” he says through gritted teeth. He lets your head go pulling from your mouth. He looks over at Steve still stroking his cock, “What ya say punk, her mouth clean enough?”
Steve looks down at you, feeling pride in you. He tightens the grip on his cock, quickening his pace as he blows out shaky breaths, “Yeah… shit… fuck come here princess,” ripping you from Bucky’s fingers. He fills your mouth, gripping both sides of your face as he fucks your throat, feeling his balls draw up to his impending orgasm. He looks over to Bucky and groaning loudly, “Fuck! Get over here, Buck.”
Bucky wasted no time making it over to you both, stroking his cock in the same motion as Steve’s strokes in your mouth. You look between both super-soldiers, knowing they were close. Hearing the loud growl from Steve’s mouth, he slips out tapping your cheek, “Open up baby,” he instructs you, your mouth hanging open as you feeling ropes of Steve’s cum shoot across your tongue. “Fuck! Got damn princess,” shouts Steve as he rides his high out in your mouth.
You feel a second round of hot cum hit the back of your throat as Bucky lets out a broken groan, filling your mouth, “Shit! Take all of it, princess. Every last drop.” Obeying like a good girl, you swallow the entire load, sticking your tongue out for them to inspect.
Steve leans down, crashing his lips to yours as his tongue dives in tasting the mingled mixture of him and Bucky. You lean up to him deepening the kiss as he releases the belt from your neck. He pulls back, looking down at you as bucky leans down and sliding his tongue in your mouth as he sucks on your plump bottom lip. He gets his fill, releasing his lips from yours.
You feel Steve pulling you up and picking you up bridal style, lacing your face in kisses, “Did so good princess,” he beams, “Gonna see if you got any bruises okay?” you nodded tiredly as he looks over at Bucky, “And keep Alpine’s toys off the floor. He almost killed her,” he chuckles.
Alpine gave a low growl over at Steve, his eyes lowered. Bucky picked up the white furball, snuggling him to his chest, “He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Ain’t that right,” he coos at the cat.
Steve shook his head, laughing lightly at the exchange, “That cat is a demon Buck. They can’t be trusted.”
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steve in any mob/gang setting is ridiculously hot, i feel like he’d be super possessive and absolutely have a daddy kink
you've got me wanting to write about mob!nomad-era!steve just needing to release some stress after an account fell through because there was a mole within the family
he'd be pissed off, perhaps even a little feral when he comes home because he just had to take care of someone that he thought was trustworthy
sometimes, it would cause mob!steve to cave in on himself when something like this happened, but for the most part–it would result in how he was taking you right now
he has you bent over the foot of the bed, silk dress practically falling off of you as he ruts into you over and over again
'yeah, you gonna cum on my dick already, sweet thing?'
'tell daddy how much you like this dick'
'how's this cunt so tight, huh? didn't i jus'fuck you raw this mornin'?'
it should be shameful that you love when gets like this–uses you to get himself off and release the stress that grips his mind like a vice
your ass claps back on him, and you're letting out the most adorable (to him) whine when his fingers find your oversensitive clit once again
'oh, sweet thing, your pussy's just milking me like this' he breathes against your neck, undulating his hips so that no part of you goes untouched or undiscovered
you relish in the feeling of his cool rings against your warm neck, mind going fuzzy when he pulls you up and raps his fingers around the column
the sound of him entering you can be heard in your shared bedroom, but you don't have the time to feel shame because he only fucks into you harder and you subconsciously attempt to move away to relieve some of the pressure within your walls
'uh-uh, doll. be a good slut and let daddy ruin this pussy–just let me fuck it like i need to'
you're nodding mindlessly, chanting out daddy please when you feel another wave of release creep up on you like a wave crashing to the shore
mob!nomad-era!steve is absolutely primitive in bed bye
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Cap vs the Grey Sweats
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Characters: Steve Rogers x black!reader
Summary: The one where Steve goes out looking like a hoochie in some grey sweats
Word Count: 1k+
Warnings: language, suggestive language, steve being a little clueless, also steve being a smug menace, combo of bearded steve + grey sweats (you’re welcome, i’m suffering at the mental), implied future smut.
A/N: Inspired by a dumbass post I made about Steve going out in some grey sweats and some hilarious commentary added by @geminixevans. If there’s any errors or typos my bad, I gave it a look over before posting but I probably missed something knowing me. The dividers are by @firefly-graphics
DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.
You’re tired and groggy as you reach for the box of coffee pods only to find that you’re all out. You give a dejected groan. First you had woken up to find that Steve was nowhere to be found, now you’re out of coffee, and you really don’t feel like cooking now that you are lacking caffeine. You’re seconds away from texting Steve to see where he’s at when you hear the front door opening and closing softly. A moment later he comes creeping around the corner with coffee and breakfast from the nearby diner.
God you loved this man.
You’re so caught up in covering his face in kisses when he comes into the kitchen to set the goods down on the counter that you don’t even notice what he’s wearing until he steps away to start taking the to-go containers out of the plastic bag. You’re mid sip when you really get a good look at him. Compression shirt that showed off how built his body was, and a pair of grey sweatpants...yep and there was the print. Combine that with the full beard and you just know he had eyes on him every second he was gone. You narrowed your gaze, shaking your head in disbelief at the audacity.
Steve must have noticed, because he’s looking at you with genuine concern. Poor man doesn’t have any chance of preparing himself for what you say next though.
“So you just chose to leave here dressed like a whore?”
Steve sputters like a fish out of water for a moment before uttering a half confused, half amused “What?”
“Look I can accept the tight ass shirts, I get that. You can barely wear a normal shirt without busting out of it.” Okay now he is really amused, but still mostly confused. “But the grey sweatpants? I mean really, babe. That’s what we doin’?” You throw a hand in the air, shaking your head and grabbing your container of food before stalking off to the table to eat. Muttering the whole time about how God is clearly testing your patience.
All Steve can utter was another confused “What?” Before choosing that his best option would be to just go change into a darker pair of sweats before joining you for breakfast.
It’s two days later and while you seem to have forgotten about the incident, Steve is still trying to figure out what he’d done that morning to make you call him a whore of all things. Honestly it was usually him calling you that while he was balls deep in his choice of hole. He’s deep in thought about it as he, and Bucky wait for Sam to show up. The man appears five minutes later, and Steve can’t help the scoff that leaves his lips as he looks Sam over.
“Don’t let Y/N see you wearing those.” He commented, earning a perplexed look from Sam who glanced down at his clothes. Black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats.
“Okaaay, you gonna tell me why?” Sam questions, brow furrowed as he watches Steve shake his head with a sigh.
“I went out to get her breakfast the other day in a pair of those, and she called me a whore.”
It takes all of a second before Sam is doubled over in laughter, a hand clasped against Bucky’s shoulder as the two super soldiers look at each other in confusion. What the hell was so funny about this? It takes him a moment, but when he finally sobers up enough to speak coherent words Sam is grinning like a fool.
“Man you gotta be careful with that shit, you lucky that’s all she did.” That doesn’t clear anything up, and it’s left to Sam to explain to a couple 100 something year olds the significance of grey sweatpants. Suffice it to say, Steve is no longer confused and feeling rather smug now that he knows just what had gotten you upset.
That’s why when you come home that night he’s wearing those damn sweatpants again, this time without a shirt. You really want to be annoyed, but he looks too good and he’s wearing that damn smug expression that only ever leads to one thing. “I see you back to your hoe ways.” You greet him, hanging your purse by the door before slipping out of your heels and padding into the kitchen as you gather your twists up into a ponytail. You’re eyeing him up and down slowly for a moment before turning your attention to retrieving a glass. The intention is to pour yourself a drink and ignore whatever it is that Steve is up to.
Good luck with that.
“Don’t worry, lovely. I haven’t gone anywhere looking like a whore today.”
Your head snaps up, eyes suspiciously landing on him as he chuckles.
“Or should I say I haven’t been showing off what’s yours?” He shifts his posture slightly, shoulders rolling back slowly and with his hands in his pockets it pulls the fabric of the sweatpants tighter against his front. Oh he knows exactly what he’s doing, and as soon as your eyes flick down to the outline of his dick against his thigh you swallow thickly. It would seem that he’s figured it out, and now he’s using this knowledge against you. You tear your gaze away, forcing your eyes to his face and that’s not much better when he’s standing there with his lip caught between his teeth and gaze hooded as he gives you bedroom eyes.
“You’re the worst, you know that?” You don’t even bother with trying to play hard to get, already stripping out of your top as you make your way out of the kitchen and over to him.
“I think you mean I’m the best you’ve ever had.” He corrects, hands coming out of his pockets the moment you’re in reach so that he can press you back against the sofa. “It’s fine if you forgot, I got no problem reminding you.”
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Summary: Steve beats your ass during that silly ass Cap vs Iron Man battle and you’re pissed off and bitter about it. When Steve comes to make amends, things take an interesting turn...
Relationship: Nomad!Steve Rogers x black!superhero!reader
Warnings: graphic language, manhandling, fighting, hate sex, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, arguing/threats, NONCON/DUBCON, 18+
A/N: This. This is for you @mauvecherie. You asked very nicely and well...I couldn’t resist fulfilling this fic idea for you. It was too much fun to write for me. Hopefully this fuels your fantasy. 😈😏
“Yeah that Steve versus Tony shit...never ending...so fuckin stupid,” you rant to your sister on the phone, staring at yourself in the mirror with a pissed off glint. The damaged has been done; the bruises and scars all over your melanin a clear indicator of some silly shit. But it didn’t make you any less mad about this situation, definitely didn’t make you any less mad at that idiot Steve.
“It’s going to be okay. I mean...you kinda signed up for this...” She’s trying to be choosey with her words but you don’t want to hear it. She knows that. You’ve been talking shit about Steve since he had put on your ass. No, not just put you on your ass, he fucked you up. Bruised your ego.
“You sure you wanna go toe to toe with me?”
His words echoed in your head anytime you reflect on the moment. Sure his old ass was stronger than you, but here you two were, facing each other with menacing smirks. You had no choice.
“Let’s go grandpa.”
And grandpa fucked...you...up.
You roll your eyes at your sister on speaker. In a way, yeah sure, but you definitely didn’t sign up for some fuck shit between Cap and Iron Man. Forced to pick a side. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Okay, okay. My bad,” she grumbles as if she could hear your eye roll, “maybe he’ll apologize...”
You could laugh, snatching your phone off the counter so you can stop reminding yourself how pissed off you are with Steve just by looking in the mirror.
“I doubt it. Besides he’s M.I.A. Dunno when I’ll see him again.”
Plopping down on your bed painfully reminds you of a giant bruise that’s taking way too long to heal. It only fuels your hostility towards your current arch nemesis. Goddammit Steve. You fight back the groan that’s dying to break from your lungs.
“I’m sure he will. I mean...he’s Cap. Y’all were pretty good friends.”
Emphasis on were. Steve was one of the few you could tolerate on the compound but with the fallout, the idea of him talking to you again doesn’t seem realistic. He’d have to come dumb correct to make amends with you. Collapsing back onto your fluffy bed with a huff, you try not to think of how you used to feel about him. How you couldn’t help but smile when he greeted you. The daydreams you’d have. Ugh you really didn’t want to think about it.
“Well he fuckin burned the bridge. Anyway, I’m gonna go,” you slightly groan trying to get comfortable, “think I’m gonna take a nap.”
But it was just an excuse to get her off the phone, to stop you from complaining about him. She’s heard it all for days now. Might as well give her a break. You could deal with your spite alone. You two did get along once. You thought he was cute once. But after that fateful moment, you began to see him differently. And it’s his own fault.
A pounding on your door jolts you out of your good ass nap with a pained groan. Hastily your feet scatter across the floor when they bang again, making it sound urgent but when you swing the door open, you damn near slam it shut with a gutter growl.
“The hell are you doing here?”
Steve’s muscle bound arm rests on the door, looking down on you with egotistical grin. His hair’s grown out...everywhere. You’d never imagine him with a beard in your life. It’s distracting...but in a good way. Looking away with an eye roll, you don’t want to admit to yourself that he’s hot. Still a dick at the end of the day.
“Came to check on the big baby,” he glances down at your exposed bruised up legs. “Heard you’re still being a sore loser.” Turning away from him with a sneer, Steve ganders at your ass flouncing back and forth in your tight bicycle shorts. It’s been too long since he’s seen you, since he laid you out on the pavement. You impressed him, the way you went hit for hit, never backing down once; you really put up a fight. Made you even sexier in Steve’s eyes. But he also didn’t think you’d take it so personally so he had to come make amends. You should be over it by now. Quit being such a baby.
“Eat a dick.” You demand over your shoulder. “And go away Steve. I don’t wanna see you or talk to you...nothin...”
“Oh boohoo...” Ignoring you he enters your apartment anyway, shutting the door behind him, “how long are you gonna keep this up? You wanted to challenge me...”
You continue to walk on to your bedroom, annoyed that he’s invited himself in. You really didn’t want to talk to him about any of this or have this fight. Your body still asleep, achey. You stretch your arms over your head, trying to ignore Steve’s eyes. “No I didn’t want part in that shit. What choice did I have Rogers?”
“You could have just walked away. Or taken Natasha or something. She’s more in your league.” He’s already smiling when the insult comes to him. Every movement frozen as you hear the words. What did...? Did this motherfucker...try to compare you to her?! Clenching your jaw, you slowly drop your arms and turn, holding your breath so pissed. God you wish you had Janis on you. That pretty smug face deserves a bloody gash.
“Really? You really wanna do this Rogers?” You cross your arms tightly over your chest. You might be a little sore but you could fuck him up. Steve knows you could fuck him up. You have fucked Natasha up, the fuck. You snort at his insult but it got the job done. Steve’s got you all riled up he can’t hold back his smile.
“Just saying...you could have saved that pretty face and body some damage.” His warm eyes flicker over your startled frame. What? “Natasha would have sparred you but not me...” Steve bites at his lip. Your heart rate quickens. Why is he looking at you like that?!
“Fuck you Steve.” Your shoulders shift uncomfortably, fighting back your confused feelings. “You know I almost had you several times during that fight. And you know I would beat the bricks off Natasha! Don’t start shit you can’t fuckin finish!” You stalk over to him, finger rigid in his face. Steve slaps your hand away then shoves you back.
“Almost doesn’t count sweetheart,” he muses gradually approaching you now, eyes all narrow and sexy you gulp, “get over yourself. I’ll put another fat bruise on that other ass cheek. Wanna find out?”
You and Steve stand mere millimeters apart, fuming into each other. This old fuck doesn’t scare you. Never has, never will. There’s no backing down. Both of you burning, staring intensely into each other’s eyes. Steve’s lips so close he could damn near taste you. You ball your fists, ready to swing.
“You ain’t shit old man Rogers.” You lift your chin, raise an eyebrow. “You might slip a disk or some shit.”
Steve hates when you start cracking old man jokes. His chest expands as he takes a deep breath, slightly shaking his head. “YN.” He warns with a soft growl.
“Aw what‘s wrong Gramps?” You mock with a pout. “Blood sugar low? Need an Ensure before we get into it?” A crooked smirk inches across your face when you see a spark of anger deep in his eyes. “Butterscotch candy? I think I have some...” you pretend to go but Steve snatches your elbow and throws you down on your bed. Sitting up on your hands, your chest heaves but your pussy is on fire. Steve towering over you with his stupid heroic stance. Chin held high, shoulders squared and proud. It’s so annoying but he can’t fuckin help it. Chaos wracks your brain; all this anger and hostility brewing with this outrageous lust has you light headed. You don’t know if he’s about to fuck you or rip you apart. Or both.
“You must need to be reminded...” he sighs hard smoothing back his hair then his thick beard, “nothing old about me.”
Oh God. For whatever reason, that pisses you off so badly you throw a kick at Steve’s stomach but he catches your foot and tosses it to the side with an absurd laugh. Tossing your legs wide open. You shrill a startled gasp then glare, fisting the covers.
“See? I already know your every move.” His knee sinks into the mattress between your legs. “You’re no match for me.” His brawny hand runs up your tender sore leg. You swallow a quivering sigh.
“Steve.” You grunt, withdrawing as Steve drops the other knee, crawling up between your legs still spread. Why are you inviting him in like this? “Fuck off.”
You try to swat and slap his hand off your thigh but grabs ahold, really sinking his fingers into your bruised muscle. The searing pain only pisses you off more, gripping his wrist with a soft groan.
“You doubt me.” Steve dips down closer, his beard brushes your cheek. His dick raging hot through his jeans sits right over the crotch of your cotton shorts. You choke on a throated groan, squeezing his wrist so hard he winces a bit. Always trying to throw his weight around. Always thinking he’s the boss but he’s not the boss of you.
“Of course.” Abruptly you kick his knee out from underneath him, jerking him down and around onto his back. Pinning his wrist over his head you straddle him flustered. “It’s so fuckin easy.”
Without really noticing your reaching for the button of his jeans, unfastening it with your nimble fingers. “Because you’re so fuckin naive.”
His zipper loudly comes undone as you two wickedly smile at each other. Steve gradually rocking his hips, grinding his dick directly up and down your slit. Are you guys really about to do this? Fuck he’s so big beneath you. Steve’s swollen pecks rising and falling as you keep ahold of him. His free hand runs up your back, pulling your shirt up over your spine. God he wanted you so bad. Before the fight, when you guys were just becoming chummy with each other but even more so after that fight.
“You’re such a fuckin baby.” Steve sighs, brushing his fingertips up your bare back. He can’t wait to fuck you like how he fucked you up. Can’t wait to own you in the bedroom too.
“And you’re fuckin geriatric.” What are you even doing? Helping Steve get his pants and underwear off as he pulls down on your shorts over your ass. You don’t know in a way you’ve always wanted Steve but you’ve been so blind by bitter rage. Guess you almost forgot. “Hope this pussy doesn’t put you into cardiac arrest.”
Legs squirm so pants and shorts can hit the floor as you relinquish your punishing grip so you can help him out of his shirt. Steve rolls his eyes as he pulls yours over your head. They go flying across the room. Invading your space he places his lips nears yours and teases,
“I’m gonna fuck you into this mattress like I slammed you into ground. Trust.”
“Ugh! Shutup!” Clamping down on his monstrous shoulders you shove him back down with all your might, sitting up on your knees to angle your dripping wet pussy over his pre-cum soaked head. Nails piercing his skin as you moan out so loud, forcing his fat cock inside your pulsating walls. Steve’s arching off the bed, overwhelmed by wet and hot your pussy feels he moans along with. You feel so damn good he immediately eagerly rolls into you, not giving a fuck about you adjusting to his girth. You inhale sharply resisting the urge to run away. Don’t back down.
“You shutup. Talk so fuckin much. Such a shitty ass attitude.” Steve talks his shit, bottoming out with each stroke. Holding your breath, holding on for dear life until your walls mold onto the shape of him. Your oh’d mouth shifting to a devious awe’d smile as you start to take over, pressing down his shoulders for leverage. But it only pleases him, a shit eating grin stretching up his perfect bearded cheeks. Your ass bouncing off his lap he’s enraptured by the round of applause of your skin making impact with his reddening thighs. You can’t stand to see him so happy so you big face him with an eye roll. He doesn’t run shit.
“God I fuckin can’t stand looking at you, goddamn America’s pretty boy. Fuckin annoy the shit out of me...”
Steve huffs an annoyed chuckle, allowing you to shove his face in the pillow since you’re grinding so well into his rolling hips. God you felt so fuckin good taking over, Steve wrenches his eyes closed, refusing to bust yet. Focused on you, on how you drench his cock, on how you weakly moan out...makes Steve wanna cum damn so hard.
“Oh please,” his words muffled, “you can’t get enough of me.” You apply more weight into his jaw, his soft beard tickling the palm of your hand. Both of you huffing and hissing curse words. Shit Steve’s got you fuckin so wet it doesn’t make any sense.
“Whatever Yankee doodle trash boy.” A needy cry crawls from your dry throat as he grabs ahold of your hips to harshly slam your weeping pussy down on the hilt of his throbbing cock. Tired of you overpowering him, Steve slaps your arm away and before you could recover, one of his large ass hands is at your throat as you moan-gasp. Sitting up on his elbow, he shoots you a wide charming smile as he roughly fucks into you.
“You’re just mad that I’m stronger than you.” Slowly licking his parted lips, he tightens his grasp. “That I scarred up that pretty face of yours hm?”
Although you’re struggling for air, you glare down at him choking on your fragile mewls. You’re burning up, fuckin squirting down his fat cock effortlessly penetrating your bruising folds.
“Just fuckin wait til I scar up yours, goddamn blonde haired, blue eyed goody two shoes.”
“Is that a threat?” Steve groans with a raised brow.
Two hands around his wrist, you growl as your legs shudder continuing to ride his perfect physique, “it’s a fuckin promise.” Damn you wish Janis was within reach so you could hold her sharp blade against his veiny neck. Or maybe slide her down the center of his pretty pink lips, piercing that bottom lip enough to see a trickle of blood fall from the edge of his pout. The image alone has your arms trembling with a chill. His broad fingers still firmly hugging your throat. Effortlessly sliding in and out of you. Every inch of you felt numb, tingling as you drench Steve. You didn’t expect Steve to feel so goddamn good. All of this animosity and jealously fueling the sexual energy between you guys. But just because he’s fuckin your brains out right now doesn’t mean you forgave him. Definitely still pissed off with him and his annoyingly handsome ass face the fucker. Gah Steve’s really giving it to you, hardly even tired, just smiling so snarky you could slap it off his fuckin face.
“Oh fuck! Who knew a hundred year old virgin could fuck so well shit!” You whimper under his crushing hold, eyes rolling into the back of your head, tongue falling out of your mouth as you softly moan out.
As much as he loved to watch you lose your fuckin mind, he was just about tired of hearing your smart ass mouth.
“Come here smart ass.” Steve growls yanking you down into your pillows, aggressively repositioning himself on his knees behind you. Your startled shouts hit your thick pillows. Fixing his strong hand on the back of your neck, Steve holds you steady, knocking your knees further apart with his. Bending over you splayed wide open, he seethes behind clenched teeth. “So tired of hearing your voice.”
Smack! A howl rips through your chest. Biting down on your pillow you can’t believe Steve just spanked you. Over the bruise he gave you. Your pussy drips. Oh fuck Captain America is going to town on your sore ass, a wet spot growing on your covers from Steve torturing you with his dainty fingers brushing your folds. Interchanging between teasing and punishing.
“Tired of you disrespecting me.” Steve complains, playing around with your pussy for a bit before he pops you again. “Address your Captain like he deserves.” Another smack, another yelp of utter pleasure. He eases on his hold to allow you to turn your head out of the cotton pillow.
Chuckling lightly and whimpering, you huff, “you hit like a little bitch, Captain.”
Kicking his head back Steve’s thunderous laugh fills your room. Shaking his head to himself, rubbing his cock still covered with your wetness against your blue and purple skin. You just love to be difficult.
“You never learn do you.” His laughter goes quiet and transforms into little pants of breath as his dick separates your folds. “Stubborn little shit.” Out of nowhere Steve spears his dick inside with one effortless swoop. You holler into the pillow; a shudder echoes down your body. He’s way too deep in this position, carries way too power steering your hips sturdy into his hips. Placing a foot down on the bed. He can’t help but laugh at your cries. Your legs wobbly. Once you find your breath again, you swallow and sigh with a sick smile,
“Oh you’re teaching me a lesson old man?” Your walls throb against his dick throbbing into them. Nah you definitely never learn. Steve’s drunk off your rebellious behavior.
“Mmm...sweetheart,” he soothes a loving touch over your hair, gathering it all into his left hand. Tsking quietly Steve shakes his head again with a crooked smirk, eyes roaming down your arched back rapidly rising and falling. “I’m really not sorry for what I’m about to do to you.”
Which you thought would be nothing too crazy when Steve takes his time drawing his hips back. Left hand drawing your head up by your hair, his right perched on the small of your back. All the way until the ring of his head rest right at your entrance, taking a moment there. Your pussy legit quivered it felt so nice...but...that was the end of anything nice. Steve fucks you, hard, using his hands to keep you perfectly arched for him. Grunting up to the ceiling, you have no choice but to take your punishment, Steve demanding you call him by his name with each powerful hit against your aching pussy lips. No matter how much you want to scream his name he’s banging you out so rough you won’t give him the satisfaction. Why? Cuz fuck him, that’s why.
“Captain Lame Ass.”
“Ugh— fuck—better fuckin say it.”
“Ohmygod! OH! Fuck...fuckin Captain...Fossil...asshole—SHIT!”
You kept that shit up until Steve couldn’t hold out anymore. Milking his cock the faster he strokes your rippling walls. Reaching your hand behind you to latch on to his flexed forearm. Your climax building more and more as delivers these steady, focused, strokes, dick on the verge of exploding the second your legs really shake. A silent scream slipping from your gaped mouth, completely drowning Steve who’s painting your walls with his hot load. Feeling his dick pulsate and hearing him groan longingly behind you prolongs your orgasm, gasping for air you can’t stop cumming. And shaking. Fucking dying. Steve’s beard brushes against your shoulders, his harsh breaths beating your clammy skin he’s collapsing, bring both your depleted bodies down to the bed, sticky and disoriented. You covers your face with both hands, trying to will your brain back to life. The back of Steve’s hand rests across his sweaty forehead, his heart hammering erratically against his beefy peck. Your thighs pleasantly sore and weak. Your ass still tender resting against his red swollen thighs. His dick still sitting inside of you. It’s finally silent between you two still in recovery mode. Both thinking the same thing: holy shit! Steve’s more than sure you’re okay but you’ve been lying so still for so long, he got a little worried. His gaze falling down your back, he slightly winces at the damage done on top of all your bruising from the fight. A shaky affectionate hand falls down your spine. Steve inspecting your body. You appreciate the gesture but you’re not there yet. Nah...Steve still had more work to do.
“Hope you didn’t throw your hip out grandpa...I’ll be ready to go again in fifteen.” Your smile is genuine but tired as you turn to look at a glaring Steve over your shoulder. “Unless you need more time.”
Draping his muscular arm over your side, he scoots close with a dastardly smirk.
“Why, I don’t even need fifteen...I can go again right now.” Your nerves are so bad that when Steve rubs the curve of your ass, you flinch. He lowly chuckles. “So where’s my bad ass of a girl at? Or do I need to wait?”
Turning your head some more, you finally kiss those lips of his and whisper with a giggle, “fuck you Gandalf the Gray.”
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off to the races | s.rogers
[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stripper!reader, ddlg, daddy!steve, abduction/kidnapping, mafia boss steve, murder/violence, a hint of peter x reader, hint of forced regression, sexy stuff, unprotected sex (wear condoms kiddos), hella angst
A/N: I do not stan lana del rey but I do stan off to the races :)
In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.
word count: 4.9k
taglist: @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes
God, do they have to play this song every night?
You tried to tune out the annoying pop song, continuing to grind your hips against the man you were giving a small lap dance. You wondered how long you could grind against his beer belly before he finally requested a private dance. Lucky for you, you felt some cash being slipped between the lace of your turquoise, panty set. You turned around, a mischievous smile on your face, as you reached out to grab his tie.
He was mesmerized by you as you expected, and you imagined that he was dying to see more of your scantily clothed body. A hundred dollars for fifteen minutes in a private room. If you could manage to get a few more private dances tonight, you’d consider yourself successful.
You brought him to one of the back rooms and got to work. You let him run his hands over your bottom but once they started to reach between your legs, you knew what to do, “Ah, ah, ah, you know the rules,” You hid your frustration behind your sultry voice. You climbed on his lap, straddling him, as you reached around to undo your top. Beneath the lacy top were your breast but decorated in shiny gemstones.
A lot of the other girls hated glitter and spending time doing stuff like applying tiny gems but you knew that it was another shiny thing for men to look at. You needed their attention. Besides, you didn’t mind the way it looked either. His eyes were wide and he gripped your bottom as you moved your breast, an inch away from his face.
When the fifteen minutes were over, you quickly collected your top and fastened it back on, “Come and see me soon, baby,” You said something of that nature, all your words blurred together by the end of the night.
You managed to get about four more private dances and as one a.m. approached, you were ready to be anywhere else but here. You headed underneath the neon exit sign, heading for the locker rooms, where it seemed a lot of girls were on their way out. You passed naked, sweaty bodies, and clouds of spray deodorant as you made your way to your locker, already slipping out of your tall heels.
The first thing you pulled out was your money bag and you were careful when you were counting each dollar bill, tucking it away nicely. You felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see Wanda, red lollipop in one hand, and a white check in the other. Your eyes widened as soon as you read the number, “I’m missing fifty bucks,” You told her.
She gave you a knowing look, “Late fee, Y/N.”
“I was a minute late! I even called and told him my train was late,” Angrily, you stuffed your money bag into your duffle bag.
“He’s not in a good mood, some suit was talking with him earlier,” Wanda shrugged, sensing she had bigger things to worry about. Like you, she made her money dancing and was trying to get by supporting herself, “I wouldn’t argue with him today.”
“Screw that, fifty dollars is the difference between me making rent. He can’t do this,” You slammed your locker closed and you were about to storm off when Wanda grabbed your arm.
“C’mon, we should go. Clint is gonna walk us to the station and he won’t wait for you.”
“I won’t be long,” You shrugged her off, making your way out of the dressing room, and toward Loki’s office. He controlled every part of the Mischief club, set the prices, chose the dancers, and even had a strict list of clientele. It wasn’t the nicest club you’d worked at but it was the closest thing to a consistent paycheck.
You didn’t bother knocking, knowing that you had a point to make and only a certain amount of time to say it, “Fifty dollars! Are you serious-” You stopped in your tracks, realizing that your boss was not alone. Not only was he not alone, but you were also in deep shit. Steve Rogers sat across from the playboy club owner and, looking at the handsome silver-fox, you thought your heart might explode out of your chest.
He’d found you.
He smiled as soon as he saw you, “Babydoll,” A name you’d usually swoon at, made you cringe inside. There he was, clad in an expensive suit and dark overcoat.
Your eyes met with those of Sam and Bucky who had made themselves comfortable by one of the tall bookcases, waiting for their boss to command them to do something. As Steve’s eyes raked over your body, you realized they’d never seen you like this.
“You know her?” Loki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, an eyebrow raised, “... sir.” He added quickly. You don’t know why you were so surprised by this, knowing that Steve was feared everywhere, and Loki, no matter how evil, wouldn’t be the one to challenge him.
“I saw you perform tonight,” Steve spoke to you and, in his mind, you imagined that you were the only one he was seeing right now, “You looked beautiful.”
You hadn’t realized that you probably looked like you’d just seen a ghost. You tried to let go of some of the tension in your body, “What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice from faltering and, considering that you were half-dressed, you tried not to let your insecurities overwhelm you.
“As of a few minutes ago, I am the sole owner of the Mischief Club,” Your heart had stopped its pounding and now it was sinking into your stomach, “If you have any grievances with your employer, you can speak to me-”
“This isn’t your side of the city,” Your lip trembled, anger bubbling within you, “Why … y-you . . . Steve, you can’t do this.”
“Every part of this city is mine, Babydoll,” He sighed, standing up from his chair, reminding you of his large, intimidating frame. Reminding you that you were nothing compared to him. You didn’t move as he crossed the room, moving until he was only standing an inch from you, slowly reaching out his hand until he was touching your cheek, “Chasing you made me realize that I should expand my influence. A club like this is a shit hole now but, in a few months, I’d make it a cash cow.”
“Once you run drugs through the place, you mean,” He tensed up for a moment and you realized you’d struck a chord. His hand was on your throat, his thumb brushing over your cheek, and a piercing gaze burning holes into your skin.
“I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head over it,” For a moment, you closed your eyes, and imagined wrapping your arms around him. He’d become your haven so quickly and you’d almost forgotten how it felt for someone to care so much for you. Love you even when you didn’t want to love yourself. When you opened them again, you realized what he meant by his words.
He wasn’t giving you a choice.
You stepped back, letting his hand fall back to his side, before you crossed your arms, “Things aren’t going back to the way they were.”
Much to your surprise, Steve nodded, “No, I made some mistakes. Letting you go being the biggest one.”
You rolled your eyes, “You’re dangerous, Steve, and I want nothing to do with it.”
“And this is safer, Y/N?” He raised his voice, “Men having their grimy hands all over you . . . I’m taking you home.”
“I can take care of myself!”
“Really?” He smirked condescendingly, and you imagined he was seeing you as a bratty child throwing a tantrum, “He-” He stepped to the side, and pointed a finger at Loki, “-was going to lay you off a week from now. The club went under a long time ago and he was going to take your hard-earned money and run, leaving you with nothing. What would you do then?”
Loki stood up, interrupting, a nervous smile on his face, “Not with nothing. I-I pay all the ladies very well and I would like to continue to do that . . . that’s why I’m so grateful for your generosity, Mr. Rogers-” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He was lying through his teeth.
“You won’t be paying them anymore, Mr. Laufeyson,” Steve spoke calmly, too calmly, and as his hands reached up to his waist belt, you suspected the worse.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Loki rushed out his words as Steve pointed his favorite silver handgun in his direction, “We had a deal!”
“Steve, don’t!” Panicked, you grabbed a hold of his strong arm. As soon as you saw him, you knew the night wouldn’t end good but death was not something you predicted. Before, he’d never show you the violent side of his world. Now, something had changed, “Steve, please don’t!”
“Come with me,” He spoke sternly, “Come home and I won’t.”
“Okay,” You said immediately, looking up at his unchanging expression. He didn’t move which only panicked you further, “I will! Steve, please don’t.”
“He’s not a good man. He’s been using you this whole time,” Steve said, finally turning to look at you. Your body was shaking, the idea of being so close to the gun was frightening you further, “You’d give yourself up for this scumbag?”
Though it made you more anxious, you moved closer to him, grabbing a hold of his free hand. With your other arm, you hugged his torso, and as he stared down at him, “I-I don’t want you to hurt anyone, Daddy,” You spoke softly, “ . . . please, Daddy?” Something softened in his features as you called him by his favorite nickname. He squeezed your smaller hand and, for a moment, you thought things might be okay.
The sound was deafening when Steve pulled the trigger. Although you couldn’t hear anything, you knew you were screaming, and that you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to open your eyes ever again. He tried to wrap his arms around you and you remembered fighting it, hitting his chest, and screaming even louder. Somewhere along the line, you gave in, he was too strong, letting him wrap his long coat over your scantily clothed figure.
You were breathing heavily and when you decided to open your eyes again, everything was blurry, “Daddy had to . . . I’m sorry . . . Babydoll,” You heard in your ear. You were moving, he was holding you . . . when had he picked you up? When did the car start driving? You wished badly that you’d listened to Wanda.
You remembered holding onto him tighter, crying into his shoulder, “Why?” He heard the pain in your voice, felt the realization that your life would never be the same.
“Because you’re mine,” He rubbed circled into your back, leaving soft kisses on your cheek, “And I needed to remind you of what your Daddy is capable of. Anyone who hurts you, anyone who even lays a hand on you, is going to meet the same fate.”
“I don’t want this,” You hiccuped. Steve didn’t believe you, not with the way you were holding him. “This . . . it’s so scary, S-Steve.”
“I’m sorry I had to scare you, baby,” It reminded him of last year when things were good between you two, and you comfortably moved in and out of little space. He could sense you were dying to go to that safe space and, selfishly, he was hoping the trauma of tonight would push you into that mindset, “Daddy’s going to take better care of you. You’ll live with me now, where you’ll be safe.”
You only closed your eyes, no fight left in you. In the world of Steve Rogers, you didn’t think safety existed.
You awoke in a pink cloud. The sheets were so soft, heavenly even, and it almost made you forget your situation. You felt something crawling on top of the sheets and you sat up quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash. Realizing it was a furry, white creature, you relaxed, “Alpine, you scared me,” The cat crawled into your embrace and you pet it gently, wondering where exactly it’s owner was.
As you looked around what you assumed was your new room, you couldn’t help but be a bit impressed. You almost forgot how well Steve knew you. Elegant white furniture, a canopy bed with white fabric falling from the sides, a huge wardrobe, a bookcase, a mountain of stuffed animals - frogs, elephants, dolphins, practically the entire animal kingdom - and the fairy lights were a nice touch.
Maybe you were more than impressed. Astounded, actually.
“Oh my . . . stars,” You climbed out of the queen-sized bed, cat in your arms, and quickly realized that your lingerie was gone and your glitter had been washed away. Did he give you a bath? While you were sleeping? You dressed in a large t-shirt and as you brought the fabric up to your nose, you realized it was his, “Why didn’t you warn me that he was this off his rocker, Alpine?”
The cat only responded with a quiet meow.
You moved over to the window and, expectedly, it didn’t budge when you tried to push it open. You looked out onto the vast landscape, perfectly manicured rolling hills of green, a garden, Olympic sized pool, beautiful white statues, and armed guards to match.
It was like you remembered though Steve didn’t bring you to his “private home” often. The two of you always met in the city and, what started as an interesting sugar arrangement, quickly blossomed into a new dynamic.
You wandered around the room, examining every detail that he had put into it. You imagined the military man had placed a lot of the objects himself, making sure everything was perfect when you saw it.
The room is also gigantic, you could do at least ten cartwheels from one wall to the other. You’d never imagined living somewhere like this, the room itself was bigger than any place you’d ever lived.
As the door creaked open, Alpine leaped from your arms, taking the opportunity to escape. You watched the creature crawl between Steve’s legs before slipping out, probably going to look for Bucky. As your eyes traveled up his figure, you assumed he’d be dressed down in his home but the businessman was clad in another suit.
You were glad not to be crying anymore but seeing him now was reminding you of the horror show that was last night, “My things, I had money in my bag,” Was the first thing you thought to say, “I want it.”
“You don’t need it,” He said what you assumed he would.
“But-” You stopped yourself, “Can you give it to Wanda, please?”
“Please and thank you?” Steve cocked his eyebrow, smirking, “I wasn’t expecting that from you today.”
You didn’t respond, only crossed your arms defiantly, “I want Wanda to have it.”
“Done,” Steve raised his hands in surrender, “Is that all you want? Can I interest you in breakfast, little one?”
He didn’t know how deeply his words cut into you. How you wanted nothing more than to forget your worries and be his little girl. How you’d probably get on your knees and kindly do anything he asked . . . if this was a perfect world. You tried to shake that feeling because this world was anything but perfect.
“I guess,” Your hunger suddenly crossing your mind.
He nodded, a smile threatening to form on his lips, “Do you want help getting ready?” You quickly shook your head and you assumed he knew that it would be your response, “Well, I picked something out for you. I left it in the bathroom.”
“So what, I’m supposed to . . . wear whatever you want and be your little trophy?”
“And if you sit still and look pretty, Daddy will buy you anything you want,” Your eyes narrowed at him and you looked away, knowing you’d probably burst into flames if you looked at the annoying smirk any longer, “I’ll come to get you in ten minutes.”
You were already walking towards the bathroom, feeling his eyes on you the entire way. The bathroom was even more immaculate than the bedroom, a big chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling, with sleek marble fixtures. You avoided the mirror when the thick makeup came off at the end of the day, so you were shocked seeing your bare face. It made you look . . . innocent. It was the opposite image the club wanted to present.
You found a new toothbrush in one of the drawers and proceeded to brush your teeth, before washing your face.
The dress he’d picked out was frilly and white, a stark but beautiful contrast to your skin. It puffed at the sleeves but grabbed your waist and then flounced out when reaching down to your knees. You did a small twirl, letting the ends of the dress softly caress the tips of your fingers. Realizing you liked it quite a lot made you frown in the mirror.
Most likely, there was no racy lingerie and tassels in that wardrobe. He said you looked beautiful last night but there was no chance he’d let you ever look like that again, especially in front of his men.
When you left the bathroom and realized Steve had not returned, you decided to slip out of the room. You wandered down the big hallway, your bare feet padding against the carpet, as you examined each piece of artwork and decoration. Steve’s taste was expensive but his style was old-fashioned, choosing elegance over flashy things.
You admired it for a second and then remembered the blood spilled, the money stolen, and the dirty things that funded it.
“I thought I said I’d come and get you.”
You turned around, noticing how his breath caught in his throat as he took you in. He was deadly, he killed a man right in front of you, yet he was like a teenager in love when he saw you.
You mentally cursed.
“Are you full?” He asked, looking at your plate of a half-eaten pancake. There was still a feast laid out in front of you which was tempting but you couldn’t help but see it as consuming more of his forbidden fruit.
You only nodded and his lips pressed into a thin line.
He was holding back, you could tell. He wanted to make sure you were fully nourished and he’d probably prefer to feed you himself.
“Eat more,” He added, “Please-”
You stood up abruptly, “I want to look for Alpine,” You made a move to leave the dining room but, as you passed his chair, he grabbed a hold of your wrist. He gripped you stronger as you tried to pull away.
“After you eat more,” He commanded.
“I’m not hungry,” Your eyes didn’t meet his eyes.
“Babydoll, can’t you see I’m trying to play nice?” He tried to hide the venom in his tone, “I could’ve bent you over my knee already for not addressing me properly. Do you want that?”
You shook your head.
“Use your words, please.”
“No, I don’t want that . . . Daddy.”
When you made a move to go back to your seat, he grabbed your arm tighter, “Sit with me,” He said but his tone was softer than before. You sat down on his knee and, instinctively, his arm wrapped around your torso, holding you in place, “Relax.”
You turned your head closer to him, the familiar feeling of being in his arms led your muscles to relax. He brought pieces of fruit to your mouth and, as you opened your mouth for him, you heard, “Good girl.”
When he first wanted to do things like this with you, he told you to imagine the things you liked when you were younger. You told him that you never had a lot of toys, never got a lot of praise, and that you were always the one taking care of others, not the other way around. What he made you feel was foreign but it satisfied a need you never knew you had.
“You haven’t been eating enough,” He commented. You shrugged and he frowned a bit, “Three meals a day from now on. And snacks. And lots of water.”
“And what if I don’t, Daddy?” You challenged, more playful than you intended.
Steve gave you a look that was much too loving for you to hold his gaze, “How about, if you do, then I’ll give you a reward . . .” His voice trailed off as he thought for a moment, “What would you like?”
“I wanna go back to the city-”
Steve smirked, “Something realistic, preferably,” It took everything in you not to roll your eyes, “A new outfit? . . . A new toy? . . . I know what you want.”
“No, you don’t,” You pouted.
“Stickers,” He answered, proud when he saw you perk up, “Sparkly, butterfly ones probably.”
He interrupted your lie, tickling your side, and you tried not to smile, “You love those little things! You’d probably prefer it over a designer bag or a trip to europe.”
“They’re not expensive and I like collecting them,” You tried to explain, your voice low.
“Then that’ll be it. A week of not skipping meals will get you a special sticker for your chart, we’ll even hang it on the fridge.”
You didn’t mind the idea . . . you could have so many stickers after a long while.
“A week,” You repeated, “How long do you expect for me to stay here?”
“There’s lots to do, you won’t get bored,” He spoke dismissively, probably frustrated by your question. You opened your mouth to respond but was interrupted when the table started shaking, Steve’s phone vibrating on top of it.
“Rogers,” Steve answered, pressing the phone to his ear, “Yes, I’m aware . . you told me that you took care of him . . . I don’t need to tell you how to do your job, you’re just supposed to do it . . . he’ll listen if it comes from me . . . i’ll handle it, okay? . . . Babydoll,” He softly patted your knee, “Why don’t you go look for Alpine?”
You took that as your cue that he was about to start cursing and didn’t want you around to hear it.
An hour later, you were wandering around the garden and Steve still hadn’t tried to find you. You guessed that he was busy with his work now but you were more focused on finding Alpine. You’d search every inch of the inside of the house and now there was only one place left. You realized that you could also start thinking about a way out of this place.
“Here kitty, kitty,” Your eyebrows raised as you heard an unfamiliar voice. You wandered further along the path, trying to look through the greenery, before stumbling upon an opening with a large fountain in the middle. Alpine was walking around the top of it, frustrating the man trying to get him down from such a tall height.
He was one of Steve’s men, you could tell by the dark clothing, though you didn’t recognize him. He was much younger, and honestly, more attractive than a lot of them. You could tell the light had gone out in a lot of the people that Steve kept around. You could already tell he wasn’t like that, “Come on, dude, now you’re just messing with me!”
The cat seemed to brush him off, continuing to walk along the edge.
“You have to be more gentle than that,” You said, knowing you would startle him. It amused you a little how he seemed to jump out of his skin. His hand held over his heart, you could tell he was a bit taken aback by your appearance. You moved toward the fountain, holding your arms out for it, “C’mere, Alpine, the scary man won’t hurt you.”
His eyes were wide as the cat easily jumped into your arms, “He obviously doesn’t like me,” He said, watching as you brushed Alpine’s ears with your fingers, “And yet Bucky always puts me on cat duty.”
“Maybe Bucky is the one that doesn’t like you,” You responded.
He frowned, “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” You walked towards you, encouraging Alpine to climb into his arms. Alpine seemed to listen, welcoming his touch, “He’s never been this nice to me. Are you some kind of animal whisperer?”
You giggled a bit, “I’m Y/N.”
Peter’s mouth formed an “o” shape like he was connecting the dots in his mind, “I-I’m Peter . . . aren’t you like . . . not supposed to be out here?”
You shrugged, “I don’t know. Am I?” He seemed to panic for a moment, “I mean, I didn’t get the brief that Steve probably gave you all.”
“Right,” He nodded nervously, “Do you . . . should I walk you back to the house?”
“Actually, can you walk me to my room? I don’t think I remember where it was,” You played dumb.
“Yeah, sure,” He agreed.
Perfect. He was perfect. If there was a way out of here, he was it.
You didn’t see Steve until later that night. He was right in the fact that you didn’t get bored, there were a million things to do even in your own room. You’d floated away, your mind now completely occupied by the coloring page you were scribbling on.
As Steve sat on the side of your bed, you felt the weight of his day come down with him. Another reason he kept your arrangement before was because you provided stress relief after a long day. He touched your hair, patting your head, and you turned your head to look at him.
“Did you have lunch?” He asked and you nodded sheepishly, “Dinner?” You nodded again.
“Maria made sure I ate.”
He leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your head, “Good girl. Wanna show me what you’re working on?”
You sat up from your position, moving the picture book into his lap, “It’s me and you,” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked down at the picture of Belle and the Beast.
“You’re funny,” Steve smiled, his eyes getting those little crinkles at the side.
“Did you end up handling your business?” You asked curiously.
“I did, actually,” He responded, failing to elaborate, “And that’s all you need to know.”
You closed your book, tossing it to the side, and standing up on the bed. You walked over to the pillows and plopped down, “Don’t you think it's a little unfair to hide things? I want to hear a story before bed. Or are your stories too scary?”
You were only teasing him but as he turned over, crawling towards you, your heart began to race, “Did I ever tell you the story about the little girl who always ran her mouth?”
You shook your head, and Steve let you stew a moment longer before he pounced. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down onto you back, as he climbed on top of you, “Well, she was always mad at her Daddy because he was . . . very protective. Her Daddy had to fix this, of course, he couldn’t have such a naughty little girl trying to boss him around. He didn’t punish her though, he just fucked her until she couldn’t speak.”
“I don’t like this one-” You were interrupted when his lips crashed down on yours.
You felt suffocated by him, trapped beneath his love, until you started to move your lips against his. You must’ve been just as crazy as he was for wanting this.
You gasped for air when he finally pulled away. You watched him hurriedly take off his already unbuttoned, button down, and undo his belt. You were sliding your dress sleeves off, trying to get your panties down your leg. When they were around your ankles, he tore them away, throwing them to the side.
Your lips were on his again, “Steve-” He grabbed your wrist roughly, pinning them above your head with one hand, and he grabbed your face with the other.
“Call me Daddy,” He demanded, sinking between your hips.
“Steve-” You felt a quick sting across your cheek and Steve watched a fire build in your eyes.
“Bad girl,” He sunk his hard member into you, causing your head to tilt back. He was anything but gentle, moving in and out of you with long and hard strokes, “You’re such a bad girl.”
“Tell me you want my cum,” He grunted, breathing hard against your skin, “Tell me.”
“I want your cum,” You rushed out, an orgasm already building as he maintained his pace. You missed this so much. If there was one thing, you missed. He was the first person to ever make you cum without oral sex. Before him, you didn’t even know your body could do this.
“Say it,” He continued, “Say it, little girl.”
He was going to slow down if you didn’t and that was the last thing you wanted, “I want your cum, Daddy,” You gasped out, your body convulsing beneath him, “I want it so bad, Daddy.”
He finished deep inside you, your body tightly wrapping around him, and sweat covering your bodies. You were coming down from the high when the panic set in. Why did you let him do that? And why did you want it?
He was holding you and, as your tears began to fall, he pulled you into him, “It’s okay,” He cooed, “I’ve got ya’. You’re going to be just fine, Babydoll.”
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The King’s Lover (part one maybe?)
This story as well as this blog is 18+ so no minors are to interact. Minors who do interact will immediately be blocked.
This work is not to be copied, translated or reposted on any other site.
Pairings; King!Steve Rogers X Black Female Reader
Note; Just want to credit @donutloverxo and @lizzygal as The series ‘A Royal Scandal’ really inspired me to write this and if you haven’t already, you should check it out. Also this is my first story so please go easy on me 😅
Pairings; King!Steve Rogers X Black Female Reader
Summary; King!Steve and y/n have been together for a while and have been going strong although they have kept it been keeping their love a secret. However, the Queen mother finds out about their relationship and decides to break them apart.
Warnings; smut, degradation, fluff, angst, unprotected intercourse (don’t forget to wrap it guys), possessive, dominant behavior, Mean Steve, swearing, I think that’s it?
You let out a yawn as you slowly arose from your slumber completely oblivious to your surroundings. Your deep e/c eyes were uncovered as your lashes fluttered. Your plump lips turned in a cute pout as your face contorted with exhaustion despite just waking up.
However, the exhaustion was pretty justified considering the many rounds you and Steve had gone through last night. Despite his cool and polite demeanor that he often demonstrated to the public, behind the scenes he was a dominant and insatiable man which he always showed between the sheets.
And last night was proof of it.
Nonetheless, regardless of his continuous chase for pleasure he never neglected to satisfy your own wanton needs as he dragged orgasm out of orgasm from you so many times that by the end of the night, you were a blubbering mess.
“ohhh f-fuck, please don’t stop” you spluttered out as Steve pushed your back down further so that your ass was up and your head lay down in the royal pillows. Your knees began to tremble as his member stroked your g spot repeatedly bringing you closer to that orgasm you were so desperately chasing.
“Angel”, he moaned deeply, “You look so perfect getting drunk off my cock”
Steve could easily say that watching you like this was one of his favorite things which is why he would often find himself balls deep your slick heat watching you slowly become undone by his relentless thrusts into you.
“Steve, I-I’m so close, ugh please!” You moaned as your heat clenched around his rigid member knowing full well that if he continued his movements you would come undone, yet again.
“Don’t you dare cum now.” He forcefully grit out. You felt so tight around him, he knew he wouldn’t last long. “Com’n baby you gotta hold it for me, be a good girl and hold it.”
You could barely register his words, gasping at how deep he was pounding into, the delicious sensation was was just too good.
“Are you a good girl? Only good girls get to cum. Do you wanna come for me?” he said as he slapped your perky ass you making you moan even more.
“Oooh, ye-yes i’m a good girl, please let me cum!”
“Huh, then you can cum my love.”
You felt yourself climbing your high as Steve leaned down and wrapped his left arm around your waist. His right hand toyed with your clit whilst he pounded into you harder than ever, making your mouth drop open in pleasure.
“Cum for me baby, yeah that’s it. Look at you cumming as I fuck you stupid.”
He was right, you couldn’t even give a coherent response as you finally let go.
Steve was still relentlessly fucking you before he came inside of you, letting his cum spill into you.
“Fuck I love you angel, always making me feel good.” he gushed with a lazy smile before turning you head to press a sweet kiss on your lips
You let out a dreamy sigh before responding with, “I love you too Stevie.”
“mmhh, good morning doll.” Steve said as he peppered multiple kisses on your face before he slowly laid his lips upon yours giving you a long, deep and loving kiss. His voice was deep and guttural from only just waking up and all you could think about was how hot he was without even trying.
You let out a little giggle in response to his antics before responding back to him with, “Good morning Stevie.”
“I still cant believe your here with me.” Steve had been trying to convince to come to his suite in the palace which you had always been against doing so. You were a student in university trying to make ends meet working as a waitress which sometimes made you feel inadequate when spending time with Steve. It wasn’t that you felt ashamed by your current occupation as you did enjoy the job for the most part and it was only temporary. You just sometimes felt out of place when you thought about your position in his life.
Steve was a king. And as much as you loved him, you would sometimes find yourself often questioning your worth when it came to him. He exuded power and confidence whilst you weren’t exactly the type that enjoyed to stand out in the crowd. It was little things like this which would sometimes make you question the validity of your relationship with him but when you would look into his deep blue eyes you could see the love and respect he had for you.
“I can’t believe it either, it’s so big.” You said with wonder as you let your eyes roam along the premise of his room. “I swear my entire apartment could fit in this suit!”
Steve let out a chuckle whilst he stared imminently at you still taking in all your features still wondering how he was so lucky to find you. He couldn’t wait for the day he could make you his queen. The day you would walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. Having the first dance with you at the wedding reception with not only friends and family watching but the entire country as well. That was what he wanted but he knew that you wanted to get your degree so he waited and tolerated having to keep the love you two shared a secret. Despite how much he hated it.
You were too good to be a secret. He wanted to share your love with the world. Show you off. Make all your wishes come true and spoil you even more. However, he knew what you wanted and had to put you and your needs first.
“What are you about thinking baby?” You softly spoke, breaking Steve out of his thoughts.
“Just thinking about all the ways I’m gonna spoil you, make you happy.”
You rolled your eyes at this. Steve loved trying to spoil you. Key word; try. You always felt bad when he would buy you designer bags, jewelry, clothes and other gifts. You didn't want you relationship to be a transnational one and you didn't want him to think that was what you wanted from him. You also knew that you could never buy him gifts of the same caliber which made you feel guilty whenever he bought you things.
“Nooo, Stevie”, You groaned as his strong arms pulled you closer to his hard chest snuggling you as he kissed your forehead.
It was moments like these that you treasured. Just being held by him. It made you feel safe and protected. Like nothing could ever hurt you. Because you had Steve.
Princess Veronica sat peacefully outside in the gardens with a glass of orange juice in one hand and freshly baked croissant in the other. This was where she would often be found early in the morning. Having breakfast whilst simultaneously getting space from the overbearing Queen Mother who also happened to be her mother.
Queen Regina, The Queen Mother had a reputation in the royal palace as a cold and frankly stuck up woman who always thought she was right and would do anything to uphold integrity in the royal household. Regina had recently discovered the little affair that her son was partaking in and was not impressed to say the least. Over the past couple of weeks since she found out, she had been slowly yet surely bubbling with rage as she seethed at her son’s decision in a so called “partner”. However that rage had and finally been put at boiling points when she over heard some maids in the corridor discussing how the king had bought a girl into his bedchambers.
She was positively seething upon hearing this news and had come to the decision that this needed to end. She had allowed this to happen for too long.
Enough was enough.
“Good morning darling!” Regina cried out as she approached the young princess, gears in her mind ticking with schemes.
“Oh.. good morning mother” replied Veronica halfheartedly. She loved her mother but she knew visits from her at times like these would typically not end well and from the little smirk on Regina’s face it was clear that this instance would be no different.
“Veronica darling, there is a matter of importance that we need to discuss that concerns your dear brother”
Veronica absolutely adored her brother Steve. He was her big brother who spent their childhood always protecting her and offering guidance even when he was crowned king if not more so. She would do anything for him and valued his happiness and safety more than everything. Regina knew this.
“Alright then, what is going on mother?”
“Oh Steve...” She sighed, “A couple of weeks ago I discovered that your brother has been seeing this girl for quite sometime and seems to be very enamored by her.”
“Really? That is great! Although I cannot believe Steve kept this from me! I need to speak to his about this.”
Just as veronica stood up about to leave to find her brother the queen mother took her arm in a vice like grip and pulled her down right away.
“Great news? Are you serious!” She cried incredulously. “Veronica let me explain and I need you to listen very carefully to what I have to say, alright?”
When the princess gave her a curt nod she continued. “This girl, y/n, she cannot be trusted, cannot be with Steve and cannot worm her way into this prestigious family. Our Dynasty.”
“Well Why not mother?”
“Once I had my people look into y/n I found out that she is still in another relationship with another man. Horrified I went to investigate myself and followed her whilst she met up with her Beau. What I heard next just broke my heart for Steve! They were making plans to extort him for money, blackmail him and get information they can sell to the media as he continues to fall in love with her.”
Veronica’s dainty hands quickly covered her mouth in shock as she took in the information that her mother had given. Her heart broke for Steve upon hearing that he was being used by someone he apparently loved.
“Wha-what can we do then. Surely we must tell Steve?”
The queen mother had to force a frown to hide the smirk that began to form upon her lips, once realizing that her daughter had fallen into her little trap.
Everything Regina had just said was entirely false. You didn’t have another relationship, you had no bad intentions and had absolutely no plans to extort money from Steve, which she knew. And that was a problem. So in order to get Veronica onside she needed to improvise.
“No, I fear that Steve is so far in that telling him would not be enough. We need to show him. In fact have a plan but it will only work if you do everything that I say..”
You let out an exhausted sigh as you practically collapse onto the couch, limbs aching as you feel your body become anchored to the plush cushions. You were so happy to finally be back home in your apartment. It was a very busy day at the cafe and you were doing the closing shift which you absolutely hated. All you wanted to do was relax and go to sleep especially since you had lectures in the morning the next day.
“Ugghhh..” you groaned as you heaved your limp form towards the door, unimpressed for being interrupted whilst trying to relax.
As you opened the door your frustration almost instantly melted way as the blue eyes you loved so much stared right into yours. “Stevie!” You cried in both joy and confusion, “What are you doing here? You didn’t call?”
“Can I come in? We need to talk y/n.”
From the solemn tone of his voice and the pissed off look on his face you could tell that something was very off indeed. As you opened the door wider and he swiftly walked in you knew instantly that this “talk” would most likely have bad repercussions for the both of you. This gave you anxiety and left a sick feeling in your stomach.
“Stevie, what’s going on? What do you want to talk abo-”
“I need to look in your bag.” He said curtly.
You recoiled back, flabbergasted by his demeanor. The way he just cut off you left you with a feeling of hurt. He was being so cold towards you and you just could not understand why.
“My bag?” you questioned incredulously, “Why do you need my bag Steven?”
His nostrils flared with irritation at both your use of his full name and the fact that you wouldn’t just give him your bag when he had just asked you to. Steve hated having to repeat himself, however, with you he didn’t care if he had to say things a million times, he loved you so much, there were always exceptions for you. However that was not the case for today.
“Y/n, you know I do not like to repeat myself. Give. Me. Your. Bag.”
“Not until you answer why you want it so badly!” You huffed as you crossed your aching arms across your chest. The way he was using your actual name was not going unnoticed by you and you knew full well he was doing it on purpose. He wanted you to know that right now you weren’t his “love”, “doll” or “angel”. You hated this.
“Do you have something to hide y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed as he stared so intently at you. “Are you lying about something? I mean you do have a history of doing so, right?”
Your eyes widened at the little dig he took towards you. You had been honest with him from the beginning of your relationship and trusted him so much that you informed him with your past. You were not proud of your past actions and always felt remorseful of them which he knew. He also knew how hard you had and continued to work on yourself to be a better person. He knew. So the fact that he was going to try and use it against you royally pissed you off.
You angrily scoffed as you went over to the side of your couch, grabbed your bag and handed it over to him. “Here, since you wanted it so badly!”
Steve gripped your bag as he began to rummage through it. He knew he had really hurt you when took that dig at you and saw the sadness in your eyes. He desperately wanted to take it back but then remembered why he was there and his anger quickly returned tenfold. He needed to make sure that his sister was wrong in her assumptions about you and that you weren’t using him. The thought that your love was not real hurt his core so much that he would feel a wave of anxiety consume him when thinking about it. He need to make sure you weren’t guilty. That he was right about you.
As he continued to search a little glimmer of hope began to rise as he started to realise that it was not there. That was until something caught his attention out the corner of his eye. His quick movements when looking in the bag halted as he walked over to the stack of drawers in the corner of the living room. Hastily he made his way over there to check it out and his heart dropped when he saw that you indeed had what he was looking for.
Meanwhile, you still stood stunned and confused by the whole ordeal. So far you had to close up the cafe and come home later than you would have liked to, your boyfriend barges in ruining your relaxation, then demands to look at your bag before berating you and then rummaging around in it like a squirrel looking for buried nuts. And now he was over by the drawers looking at some object you definitely haven’t seen before much less remember placing it there.
“Steve can you please just tell me what the fuck is going on here!”
He slowly turns his head around so you could see his face. There were tears pooling in his eyes and his face was a storm of anger and hurt.
Concerned, you walked over and placed your hand on his cheek attempting to soothe him before he roughly shoved you away from him his face now only showing rage.
“The hell- ?”
“Don’t you dare touch me ever again.” Steve lowly spat out whilst glaring at with so much hatred you wanted to curl up into a ball, still not understanding the situation.
“What did I ever do to you other than love and care for you? I would’ve done anything and everything for you. Hell, I would’ve even given up all of this, the crown, the money, my duty - everything! Just for you to use me for some cash grab, are you really that desperate for money? Are you really that pathetic?”
“No! Don’t call me that. You have no right to call me that.” He gritted out, “It is your majesty to you. Don’t you forget your position. Only worthy people can call me by. My. Name.”
At this point tears were pooling down your face as you felt your heart drop and shatter into pieces listening to the love of your life continue to berate you, digging and digging at you.
“Ha, tears?”, he sarcastically chuckled, “What’s wrong y/n, did you think I would never find out the truth. I mean how stupid could I be to fall for this. I’m supposed to be a king, I have been a king for nineteen years just for me to fall prey to some whore’s tricks. I mean when you look at it from that point of view I guess I’m the pathetic one.”
“I-i don’t understand. W-where is this c-coming from?” You shakily stuttered tumbling over your words just from how distraught you were. How did you two get to this point? To the point when you were no longer his angel but now the whore who seemingly ruined his life.
“Wow. So is this what we’re going to do now? Play dumb? Fuck this, I’m done. I hope you enjoyed this little game while it lasted, because trust me, you will never get the opportunity to treat me like a fool ever again. Goodbye y/n.” His voice was calm as he said these words yet you could feel both the anger and pain rolling off him as he threw your bag down onto the sofa before walking out your apartment.
You silently shook as you felt the devastation take over as tears uncontrollable poured down your face before falling onto the sofa completely unnerved by the events that just took place. You had never loved anyone the way you loved Steve. You trusted him with your life and would do anything for him. Correction - would have.
195 notes · View notes
Pairing: Dilf!Steve Rogers x Shy!Black!Reader
Warnings: Age gap (reader in her late 20s-early 30s, Steve in his mid 40s), references to sex work, smut -oral sex (f & m receiving), reverse cowgirl, deep throating, name calling (whore)
A/N: My own submission for the Sunshine or Sin 1k Challenge. All mistakes are my own. S/o to @olyvoyl and @geminixevans for letting me bounce ideas off them.
Inspired by ‘Whore’ by In This Moment. https://open.spotify.com/track/2tAzcTFry1OhmNERFjUR93?si=X6JX5kT2Rp2eE-_BpefZWg&dl_branch=1
Your eyes were downcast as you kept fidgeting with your fingers. Your heart had been going a million miles an hour since you left his house with a poor excuse about having to wrap up your kids laundry. It was obvious he only half believed you but you needed the excuse especially after what you saw. You could never show your face to the man again and it made you want to crawl into a hole.
How did he even know about the page?!
It hit you then— the link tree on your Instagram. That’s the only place you put the link. Maybe he clicked out of curiosity? Either way, the damage was done. All you could do now was make yourself a strong drink and pray that you never ever saw Steve Rogers again.
Of course as luck would have it, you saw him in his driveway three days later once you came back from dropping your daughter off for her field trip. Taking a deep breath, you hoped to make it from the car to your front door without being noticed. That was also a failure as Steve called your name just as you stepped out.
“Goddammit,” you muttered. Putting on your best smile and neighbor voice you waved. “Hey, Steve.”
He crossed the street to where you stood in your driveway. Why did he have to look so good today?
“You feeling okay? Haven’t seen you around since you left that night.”
“I’m fine. Just… been busy with work and stuff. Y’know.” Another lame excuse and you felt kind of bad giving it to him.
Steve wasn’t fooled this time. Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave you a concerned look. “You can talk to me if you want. Not sure how much help I’d be but I can see something is bothering you.”
You toyed with your hands as your weight shifted from one foot to another. Why did he have to be so close and nice and fucking hot in the navy polo and dark pants he was wearing? He was making it hard to think. Maybe you should just get it all out in the open? Tell him you knew about what he saw. Just thinking it made your heart speed up.
“Um… it’s really nothing I can’t handle. Honestly.”
“Okay,” Steve replied, not at all convinced.
“I’ll see you around, yeah?” You barely gave him a chance to answer before you started for your front door. Halfway there you stopped. It was now or never and you couldn’t let this hang in the air forever. Turning back, you saw Steve about to cross the street again. “Hey, Steve?”
He stopped and looked back at you, pretty blue eyes soft. “Yeah?”
“Do you… maybe wanna come in for a drink?”
The sudden change threw him off but he couldn’t deny you. Especially not when you looked like an adorable snack in your little purple sundress and Converse.
You turned back to your door and fumbled with the keys for a second, hands already shaking at the thought of what may happen. Once you’re both inside, you make a beeline for your kitchen, tossing your purse on the counter in the process. Your bottle of red never looked so good as you grabbed a glass and quickly poured, some of it dripping down your hand in the process. Immediately you handed it to Steve and made quick work of licking the liquid from your hand. Steve definitely took notice, something stirring in his belly. Pouring yourself a glass, you quickly downed it before he could even sip his.
“I know. What you saw I mean. I… I know you found…,” you trailed off. Sighing, you poured another glass and quickly drained that one as well. “I know you found my…page.”
Steve froze with his glass halfway to his lips. His eyes averted yours as he set the glass on the counter and shoved his fingers in his hair. Why did it feel like he was suddenly a teenager who got with a Playboy?
“Shit. Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. One of the guys sent it to me. I thought it was someone else until I realized it was you.”
You hid your face in your hand as a dread filled groan rumbled from your lips. Sweat beaded at your armpits from your nerves being dialed up.
“I knew better than to put that stupid link up on a public site. Especially with some of those nosy fucks at the school.” Looking up at Steve you saw he completely disregarded the wine, a look of shame on his face. “How much did you see?”
He cleared his throat as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Um… enough. I’m sorry. How did you even…?”
“When I was using your laptop that night to sign the field trip waiver. I was typing something in the search bar and the link came up. I didn’t think anyone from the school would seek me out through Instagram. That’s the only way they could’ve gotten it.”
Steve cursed himself for not clearing his browser history and made a mental note to kick Tom’s ass for sending him the link in the first place. Of course the guy who was cheating on his wife was the one seeking out the school moms. Rocking back and forth on his feet Steve searched for the right words but what exactly could he say in a situation like this?
“Do you… think I’m a bad mom?” you asked, voice so low and full of embarrassment.
Steve finally looked back at you and saw how you hung your head as if you were a kid awaiting punishment. How were you and the woman in the picture the same person?
“Why would I think that? You’re a great mom.”
“I mean I’m sure once the news goes around that I put up naked pictures of myself for money, I’ll have a bit of a reputation at the school. Especially with the last one I put up.”
He knew exactly which one you were talking about. It was the first one he saw when he clicked the link and your webpage pulled up. It was the one that had him second guessing just how quiet you actually were behind closed doors. The one that showed you completely naked with the exception of a red collar while you held a tube of red lipstick in hand, a bright red word written across your tits— whore. It was the one Steve jerked off to in the shower last night.
Stepping over to you, he placed a reassuring hand on your arm. “What you do to pay for you and your kid is your business. Fuck what those assholes think. They all put on this facade that they’re flawless but trust me, they do plenty of wrong when we can’t see. Look at their kids for God’s sake.”
You laughed, a light and airy sound that made Steve smile at you. How were you so cute in person yet a minx in front of a camera?
“Thanks, Steve. And sorry if I scarred you. I can’t imagine how you’re gonna look at me now.”
You tried to make a joke of it and Steve smiled sympathetically. It was endearing that you cared what he thought of you. His soft spot for you wouldn’t allow him to feel anything else if he tried.
“I don’t look at you any different than I did before. You’re a beautiful, bright woman. With some stellar photography skills might I add. Can I ask how well that picture did?”
Wait… was he actually taking an interesting this? Why did that make you want to laugh?
“Um… pretty well actually. Sold some prints. That’s actually how I was able to pay for Kenzie’s trip.”
“Sounds like a job well done then. Sorry I didn’t contribute.”
You hid your face as you giggled at him. “You’re the only person who’s money I couldn’t take honestly. The fact that you got this much of an eyeful is enough to keep me up at night.”
“It wasn’t that bad, Y/N. It is a side I never expected from you. Although, given how vanilla the rest of these people are, I’m glad there’s finally someone different to shake things up.”
Steve was always the one parent you had zero issues with. He put up the same act as the others but around you he was free to be himself. It’s why he flocked to you almost immediately after you moved into the neighborhood. You two always shared snide comments during the parent meetings and gossiped amongst each other about who the new fuck up of the week was. Looks like that new fuck up was you and here he was laughing it off with you to help you feel better. His hand was also still on your arm and you wondered if he could feel the goosebumps prickling up.
“I’ve always been anything but vanilla but people never expect it from me. It’s why I could get away with it for so long.”
“It’s always the quiet ones,” Steve smirked.
“I’m still pretty innocent. I think.”
“If you have to think about it, you might not be.”
Peeking up through your eyelashes you flashed a dimple filled smile that both took Steve’s breath away and made him harder than a rock. You looked every bit like a mischievous kitten as he towered over you. It felt like a privilege to get that look from you. He wanted it to be just for him.
“I guess we’ll never know,” you shrugged.
Steve’s breath quickened at your comment and he rolled his eyes in gratitude when you finally turned around to the pour another glass of wine. He couldn’t stop his eyes from scanning the length of your body. The way your dress flowed yet clung to your full hips and chest drove him crazy. Perhaps he would’ve been fine had you not shifted the garment and inadvertently flashed the wildflowers tattooed on the back of your thigh. That alone pushed him over the edge.
“Y/N,” his voice wavered. His mouth was going dry.
Turning with your new full glass in hand, you were met with two beautiful blue storm clouds staring hungrily at you. Your heart stopped. Steve never looked at you like this before. It was so… dark. Full of lust. It felt like all the oxygen was sucked out of the room and time slowed way down.
His solid chest rose and fell with visibly heavy breaths he tried so hard to contain. Just watching him barely keeping control made your thighs rub together.
“Can I…?” He trailed off.
He didn’t have to finish the question. You would’ve granted him permission regardless. Setting your glass down, you nodded your head. The next thing you knew you were being swept up in his big arms as both your lips collided in a bruising kiss. Your ass landed on the counter and Steve immediately ran his hands up your exposed thighs as he shoved your dress up around your hips. His fingers traced over the cotton boy shorts before he made quick work of ripping them from you leaving your aching center exposed. Leaning back, Steve took time to look at it. Juicy lips that looked good enough to suck on caught his eye first. His fingers spread them open so he could peek at the slick pink bud hidden between.
“Are you just gonna stare at it?” you teased.
Steve smirked at you. “Just wanted a look before I completely ruin her.”
Your mouth fell open at his brazenness. Who was this man? Dropping to his knees left him eye level with your dripping sex and he licked his lips before he dove in to leave tongue kisses along your inner thighs and along your lips. You yelped when he pulled you closer to the edge, a breathless giggle leaving you. The way he hugged his arms around your legs as they hung over his shoulders made you feel like he was ready to set up camp. That first long lick from your slit to your clit had you bracing the countertop. Steve took his time devouring you, his tongue lapping up your juices like a greedy puppy and holy shit did it feel amazing. Loud slurps filled the air along with his little groans of approval. Your hands held onto his fluffy blonde locks for dear life.
“Tell me what you want, honey,” he muffled between your thighs.
“Mmm Steve,” you whined. “Spit on it. Make a mess for me.”
The look he gave you made your stomach do flips. It should have been illegal for a man to look so good while eating pussy. He did as you told, his mouth detaching from you long enough to spit directly on your heat before diving back in, his fingers kneading your flesh.
“So fucking good.”
Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure rippling through you. Turned out there was more to the friendly single father across the street than met the eye as well. You never could have seen this coming but you were glad it was happening. It felt long overdue. Repeated licks against your clit had you gasping for air until you finally came apart, your head banging against the cupboards. If he kept it up, you were sure to leave his face soaked. Not that he would’ve cared. He could’ve gone on for hours drawing orgasm after orgasm with just his mouth and drinking down the sweet nectar you offered him. It felt right. It felt like his place.
The second orgasm came within minutes of the first and soon the third followed. The fourth was just building up and by then you were a crying heap as you pulled at Steve’s roots with frantic hands.
“Steve, baby, fuck I can’t take anymore. Too sensitive.”
His answering moan vibrated on your clit. “Just one more. You taste so fucking good I don’t wanna stop.”
Locking your legs around his head, Steve put in overtime dragging that last orgasm from you. The way you started to tremble had him chuckling as he looked up to see your pretty face twisted in pleasure, your back arching.
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck okay Steve!” You were finally able to pull him away with a laugh.
His mouth and chin were covered in your essence and he looked proud of himself as he stood up, took your face in his hands and kissed you so you could taste your sweetness.
“You’re so damn delicious, sweetheart. If it were up to me, I’d keep tasting you until you passed out.”
You traced your tongue over his lips before kissing him again. “If that’s an offer, keep it on the table for later. Right now,” you paused and glanced down at the very obvious straining bulge in his pants, “I just want you to fuck me full.”
You both wrestled with his button and fly until his cock sprang free and hit your inner thigh. Biting your lip, you took the heavy member in your hand. He was so wide it had you worried about how well you could take it. But it looked too good not to have inside you and besides, you weren’t a quitter. Steve watched you quietly, the corner of his lips twitching.
“If it’s too big for you just tell me.” There was mocking edge to his voice.
Cocking your head to the side you narrowed your eyes.
“You think I can’t handle this?” You squeezed him and felt a responding throb.
“The way you’re looking at it like it might break you makes me think so.”
This arrogant fucker. You let out a dark, sexy laugh that had Steve ready to get back on his knees. Slipping down from the counter, you kept his dick in your hand as you led him to the living room and promptly pushed him down on the couch.
“Let me prove you wrong then.”
Facing away from him, you lowered down onto his lap while guiding his length between your folds. Steve held onto your hips to keep you steady. That first stretch made you keen, your arms wobbling slightly. He was so damn thick it made no sense. Still, he was fully seated inside you in seconds and you both sighed. You tossed a look over your shoulder, a sultry smile on your plump lips, and clenched your pussy. Steve hissed at the feeling, fingers digging into your hips.
“Still wanna talk shit?”
Shaking his head, Steve reclined back into the couch. “Sorry for doubting you. Now show me how much you love feeing me inside this tight little pussy.”
You planned to show him that and more as you lifted up from his lap and slammed back down with a wet slap. It felt like every movement had you gushing around him. Holding onto his legs, you set your pace and he helped you keep it, his hands moving your hips. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of your cute ass and… was that another tattoo just above your right cheek? He smiled to himself. To think you seemed so innocent and yet here you were full of surprises. While he was lost in watching your body, you were lost in the feeling of being so full. You threw your head back with a needy moan.
“You feel so fucking good stretching me out, Steve. I love taking you so deep in my pussy.”
A whispered “shit” behind you let you know Steve was barely keeping it together. You rode him harder, so desperate to drag the most obscene noises from his mouth and it seemed like he took note, his hips bucking up to meet yours so he could chase his high. One of his hands left your hip to travel up your back where it rested against the nape of your neck, your braids falling over his arm.
“Taking me so well, honey. Trying not to pin you to this couch and fuck you stupid.” That earned him a trembling moan. “I want you to make yourself come all over this fucking cock.”
Pushing forward from the back of the couch, Steve pulled you back by your neck forcing your back to arch. It was just the angle he needed to nudge your belly.
“Oh my fuck! ‘S so deep, baby!”
“Mmhmm,” Steve groaned in your ear, his fingers slipping under your dress to touch the spot where his cock was.
Your cries bounced off the walls the way you bounced on his cock. You were so close to one of the most intense orgasms Steve had given you so far and even now you knew you wanted more. Steve grazed his lips against the shell of your ear while his hand wound up into your braids. You thought he was going to pull them, anticipated it even. But of course this man was all about the unexpected. Winding your braids around your neck and pulling tight, Steve choked you with them. It was so unexpected and so fucking sexy that it was enough to drive you to madness as your pussy squeezed him like a vice.
“Shit I’m coming for you, baby,” you whined.
“Give it to me. I know that sweet pussy wants to make a mess all over this big fucking cock. Come on, my pretty little whore.”
You don’t know what happened after your brain processed those words but your body had a visceral reaction; You let go before you could stop it and before the both of you knew it you had squirted all over Steve’s lap, your whimpering moans echoing in the living room.
“Oh my God!” you panted.
Your pussy was a quaking mess and Steve moaned low at the feeling. He would likely need a change of pants but he’d happily let you ruin another pair. Slowly raising off his lap you turned and got on your knees before him. His cock was still throbbing and soaked with your slick.
God he looked so damn delicious.
Taking him in your hands, you sucked his cock all the way into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks. Your tongue danced along the underside of his shaft and Steve felt his breath stutter.
“Jesus,” he drew out. “Wicked little mouth on you.”
You pulled back with a giggle and stroked him in your hands. “You should feel my throat.”
Never had a woman made Steve laugh during sex but here he was chuckling at your crude statement. If he wasn’t attracted to you before, he certainly was now. Before he could even formulate a reply, he was back inside your mouth and sitting in your throat.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re gonna make me come too fast.”
He gripped your hair in his fist as he unintentionally pushed you further down. You gagged around him, spit dripping down his balls. Pulling back with an audible slurp, you tilted your head.
“Maybe that’s the point. So let go for your little whore.”
You were sucking him back into your mouth again and the groan Steve let out was enough to have a new flood coating your inner thighs. That sound was the only motivation you needed to make this man see stars. You stroked him as you tongued his head, teasing the thick, angry red cap until it drove Steve to madness.
“Y/N —fuck— honey. I’m—.”
Taking him back into your throat in one gulp was enough to cut his words short as he let loose, copious and thick ribbons of come coating your throat. His heaving breaths and low grunts were music to your ears. He sounded so sexy when he let go. Pulling him from your mouth with a moan, you slowly stroked him through the last waves of his orgasm.
“Didn’t expect those noises from you.”
Steve trembled as he caught his breath, eyes landing on you. “I didn’t expect those noises from me either.”
You chuckled and kissed his softening dick before moving to sit next to him on the couch. Sated smiles were plastered to both your faces as you sat in silence for a minute.
“I’ve never felt that before.” You finally spoke up.
“All of it?” you asked more than stated. “You, what you said, what you did. Never really had anyone to indulge with before.”
“That’s just neglectful. You deserve all of that and more.”
“Kenzie’s dad was a very straightforward guy. Never liked to venture too far from the usual things. I learned to keep my fantasies to myself after a while.”
Steve dropped a hand on your leg and caressed his thumb over your skin.
“You deserve to have your desires met. Anyone who isn’t willing to do that doesn’t deserve you.”
You turned to see him watching you with affection lighting his eyes. Under his gaze you felt so…seen. Like he understood you in more ways than one. It felt good to not be ashamed to let yourself be who you were. Leaning on Steve’s shoulder, you started drawing circles on his arm.
“So, uh, this might be an odd question now but would you maybe wanna go get a drink? Maybe lunch?”
“I know a good bar that serves some pretty great beer and appetizers. You up for it?”
“That sounds really good actually. Let me get us some waters and then I can fo change.”
Steve grabbed your hand. “Wait a minute. What’s wrong with your dress?”
You looked up and down at it and then laughed at the question. “I already attracted one dad, I don’t need to attract more.”
“But it looks so good on you. Plus,” he dipped his hand between your thighs to feel your arousal sticking to your skin, “I wanna be able to do this whenever I want.”
You giggled and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Oh no, now that you’ve had a taste, you’re gonna have to work for another. So I’m gonna put on my cutest Daisy Dukes and watch you sweat for the rest of the afternoon.”
Steve smiled at you. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“One you accept?”
“Oh yeah. Let’s see how fast I can have you with your legs up in the backseat.”
“May the best one win.”
You two shook hands with the most devious grins. This was bound to be a fun day.
• • •
265 notes · View notes