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sunvmars · 7 months

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if i could give you the moon || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x afab reader

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist

word count: 5.5k (of mostly pain)

summary: your relationship with steve is nothing more than a string of lies and promises in a hearty affair, but hope lingers still.

warnings: swearing, angst, cheating, smut (degradation + appraisal, finger sucking, brief spanking, unprotected p in v, brief mention of hair pulling, use of the names ‘dove,’ ‘bunny,’ and ‘slut.')

a/n: highly recommend listening to moon song and/or midnight love while reading this :,)

‘you pushed me in and now my feet can’t touch the bottom of you’

Love is to be experienced as a delicate, never-ending symphony between two souls. Love is supposed to feel like soft sand under your feet, a perfect breeze flowing through your hair, and warm water wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

But loving Steven Grant Rogers?

It’s sharp teeth sinking into your flesh that gnaw the meat off your bones. It’s total darkness and an unrelenting dagger piercing your very core. The blade twists, somehow sinking deeper with every thrust of his hips and soft groan that falls from his lips. The warm water that’s supposed to comfort you is freezing cold as it pulls you under, water filling your lungs.

“My pretty girl.”

He says it like it’s a title meant for you, only for you.

“Don’t think I could ever get enough of you,” he sighs. His hips drive faster into “Fuck- got such a tight little cunt, dove.”

You croon, your sounds being drowned out by you shoving your face into your soft comforter. You’d wash the sheets in the morning. It’s always less painful after he goes home when there’s no trace of him left behind.

Steve delivers a hard smack to your ass before gripping the aching cheek roughly in his hand. His free hand comes to rest on your hip so he can force your hips back into his to match his thrusts. He slaps your cheek again with the same roughness, desperate to pull more whimpers and moans from you.

His pace quickens, the tip of his cock deliciously hitting your g-spot as he slides in and out of you. “Come on, sing for me, dove,” he demands.

And you obey; loud moans and gasps falling freely from you now. A deep groan emits from the man behind you as your sounds greet his ears. Large hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises that would have you avoiding mirrors until they disappear.

“Look at that,” he groans as he pulls out of you slowly.

You wince at the obscene squelching noises coming from your sopping heat. He doesn’t notice your discomfort because you don’t allow him to. If he knew about that ache you feel every second of the day that he’s not stretching you out then he’d probably end things for good. Having bits and pieces of him is better than having none of him, you’d decided.

Steve watches closely as he enters you again, speaking through gritted teeth, “So. Fucking. Perfect,” he grunts in between thrusts. “Fuck, I can feel your needy cunt gripping me, bunny.”

“Stevie,” you mewl, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets under you, “Please, please.”

You’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. More of him? For him to go deeper into you, to fuck into you so roughly that you forget he’s not yours?

His thrusts slow as his hand tangles in your hair to gently pull you up and against his chest. Your head tilts back against his shoulder, your teary eyes locking with his lustful blues. He rocks his hips at a moderate pace like he’s savoring what he can of you. There’s not much to savor though, most of you has withered away and he takes what’s left of you home with him every night. He’ll return tomorrow night anyway, in your bed, to claim what’s left of your hollowed bones.

He coos softly as his eyes scan over your blissed-out expression, “There’s my girl. Always look so pretty getting stretched out by my cock, don’t you?”

Your jaw goes slack when one of his large hands travels down and between your legs to rub circles on your sensitive clit. The fingers in your hair come to rest under your chin, his thumb being placed in your open mouth. He chuckles when you immediately start sucking on it, relishing in the fact that only he could do this to you. Only he gets the pleasure of turning you this cock-hungry and seeing you this desperate. He’d already ruined every other man’s chances with you because, well, they’re no Steve Rogers- nobody is.

If only he’d thought the same about you as you do about him.

His head tilts to the side, his thumb leaving your mouth with a ‘pop’ as his hand makes its way onto the back of your head. He pushes your head so that your lips smash against his. His soft lips move with yours feverishly in a series of sloppy kisses. He kisses you with the same amount of need he always does, but you kiss him with a desire that runs much deeper than sexual. You need him in every possible way he’ll offer you.

His tongue swipes out in between kisses, urging you to open your mouth. For the first time, you allow him entrance without teasing. His tongue explores your mouth Your tongues swirl together as he explores your mouth. The kisses he offers you always have your mind reeling in the most blissful way. You figure it’s because it’s the closest you’ll get to being filled by him completely; his tongue down your throat, his fat cock stretching you so deliciously, him being yours for the time being- even if only for a few hours.

‘you couldn’t have stuck your tongue down the throat of somebody who loves you more’

“Close, m’close, Stevie,” you breathe out against his lips.

Steve pulls his lips away from yours to tsk at you tauntingly, “Are you? You gonna come all over my dick, bunny?” he asks, the circling motions on your clit coming to a stop so he can softly slap it a few times.

The slaps send a sharp tingle through you and your hips jolt forwards slightly, his cock almost slipping out of you. A growl makes its way from his chest and out of his mouth as he slams back into you fully. You pule when he starts to rub your clit again at the same speed as before.

"Such a pretty baby when you take what I give you- squeezing me so tight, s'like you were made for me."

“Please,” you beg, “Wanna come, please let me come.”

“No, you can wait," he orders.

“Can’t, Stevie. Need to finish.”

“I know you can hold it ‘cause only bad girls come without permission- and you’re not a bad girl, are you, dove?”

He would be the death of you. And you were sure of that simple fact.

“N-no,” you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening.

He chortles as your hips move to meet his, “I know you love being bent over like this, like the dirty little slut you are, but I think I want you on top of me so I can see that pretty face when you milk me,” he says with a grin.

You find yourself unable to conjure up anything other than a low hum as he sinfully ruts into you. His movements quicken, the pressure applied onto your swollen bud increasing. Moans and soft whimpers come from between your lips, your back arching off his chest. He doesn’t let you fall though, and his hand that once was wrapped by your hair flies down to your chest to steady you.

Thick fingers dig into your breast as Steve holds you tighter against him. You mewl when he pinches your hardened nipples between his digits. Somehow you’re able to hold your building release as he rolls the peak around, tugging only slightly. His thrusts become unrelentingly fast and the tip of his lengthy cock slams into your g-spot with a force that’s bordering painful.

‘It’s like you were made for me.’

To you, you were made for him. All of him fits so perfectly with all of you, from your witty personality paired with his serious exterior down to how your walls were molded for his cock.

You wondered if he thought she was made for him too.

Warm, salty tears run down your cheeks slowly as you take the pain that he’s unaware he’s inflicting. The physical pain was being dulled by the pleasure, and some nights that used helped the mental pain too, but not anymore. He places soft kisses on your cheek to kiss away the train of tears.

“What d’ya think, sugar? That sound good to you? You wanna bounce on my cock so I can see all of you?” he questions again, his accent becoming more prominent. You don’t respond, still unable to, so he speaks again, “C’mon, dove. Color?”

You manage to breathe out a, “Gre-green,” the first half of the word getting caught in your throat.

“Good, now come sit on my cock,” he demands as he pulls his girth completely out of you.

His hands pull away from your body, giving you just enough time to steady yourself. You whine at the loss of contact as you lower yourself to your knees, trying to catch your breath. The mattress sinks when he sits next to you before pulling his legs onto the bed, careful not to kick you, and straightening them.

Patiently, he waits with his back sat against your bed frame for you to take your spot on top of him. Rarely did he rush you because he always loses track of time when he’s with you. Not that time matters anyway since the woman he truly belongs to had been picking up the night shift for the last few weeks.

You shuffle on your knees to his side and throw your leg over his to straddle him. Steve's gaze never shifts from your face except for once to look at the sight of your dripping cunt being prodded by the fat head of his length. He grunts quietly when you slowly lower yourself onto him, the tightness of your clenched walls almost pulling him all the way in.

Hands make their way up your thighs with one stopping on your hip and the other on your waist. As you continue to sink down, his thumb brushes underneath your breast as it strokes your side gently. You’ve always been able to take him fully, whether with ease, or with a lot of foreplay that he never really minded because he loves to tease you.

“There we go, little bunny. Such a pretty girl, aren’t you?” he coos, the grip on your hip tightening as he bottoms out inside of you.

The bright blue eyes you’d come to love and hate were significantly darkened now. But that wasn’t unusual during times like these, for his usual sweet gaze to blacken and gloss over with lust and desire.

Almost as soon as you’d sunken fully down, his hand moves you around, swiveling your hips in circles. His length stirs inside of you, hitting that familiar soft spot that makes you gasp. A rough hand kneads your breast as he starts to bounce you up and down on his length. The movement is painfully slow at first but builds up speed after a minute.

You moan loudly as you ride him, not bothering to muffle your noises. As much as you don’t wish pain on her, the selfish part of you wants her to walk in on the unholy scene; him plowing into you, his hungry stare glued to your bouncing tits, the lewd noises of skin against skin filling the room. Maybe if she saw you two like this then you could have him. He was amazing, truly, and you know that you’d want him all to yourself if you were her too.

You take control from him for a moment, pushing down on his chest as you move. He allows you to do so, his hips only moving in the same slow swiveling motions from earlier. His dick swirls inside of you as you ride him and it provides an extra sensation that has you whirling.

That knot in your stomach tangles itself up again as you ride him quicker. You lose control of your movements after a few seconds, your hips stuttering as you try to keep a steady pace. Per usual, as he does with everything you do, Steve takes notice of it quickly.

“You close again?” he rasps, although he’s fully aware of the answer.

He takes over again, bouncing you so that his thrusts meet yours in the middle. He’s also knowing of the fact that you probably won’t find it in you to respond, so he speaks once more.

“You can let go for me now. Been such a good girl tonight, you deserve to come,” he praises you, his voice husky due to his own climax approaching.

“Stevie,” you whimper lowly, wanting to come with him.

“I know, dove, s’alright; come for me, promise I’m right behind you.”

The verbal confirmation is all you need to let yourself release. Your body spasms, your vision blurring into a white static as your eyes shut tightly. An embarrassingly crude string of moans make their way out of your mouth and deep grunts emit from his chest as you clench around him.

Both of his hands come to sit on the back of your head and pull you down to his face. His lips press to yours so hard that both of your mouths open, your teeth clashing. The kiss doesn’t last longer than a few seconds before he’s groaning into your mouth. His lips disconnect from yours and he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

The sight of your face twisted in pleasure stuck in his mind, his thick cock still sliding in and out of you, is all it takes for him to let go too. Strings of hot, white cum paint your insides. The warmth of his seed sends a tingle down to your core that only prolongs your orgasm. His thrusts slow almost to a stop but his hips occasionally rut into you roughly as the two of you ride out your high.

The feeling is both sour and sweet because you know he’s going to leave. He’s going to clean you up, either in a quick shower together or with a warm rag, get you some water, and then hold you until you fall asleep. You’re never sure if he leaves when you’re sound asleep or when the sun starts to rise and his fiancé gets off work. All you know is that he leaves, and he’s never there when you wake up.

And that’s what hurts more than almost everything- that you’ll always be right here waiting for the man who’ll never be waiting for you.

'so i will wait for the next time you want me like a dog with a bird at your door’

“Love you, I fuckin’ love you,” Steve moans quietly against your neck, brushing your hair back softly.

Ouch.

Maybe if it hadn't been the first time he'd said the words, it wouldn't have hurt as much. Or maybe it was always going to hurt to hear them because they're always going to be whispered as a secret.

“Steve…,” you trail.

“I know,” he whispers.

He places a few chaste kisses on your neck before moving his head back up so that his forehead rests on yours. Your fingers dig into his hard biceps as you swallow the lump in your throat. Your chests are pressed together, your heartbeat in sync with his. Soft pants fill the silence that's thick in the room.

"Color?" he asks.

"Green."

Your eyes finally open to meet his gaze. His eyes are softened now, perfectly showcasing the soothing waves of baby blue in them. Tinges of regret and disappointment can be seen beneath all the longing and drowsiness in his eyes.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

You offer only a nod in agreement before pulling off of him, his semi-hard cock sliding out of you. He slides off the bed, leaning down to pick up his clothes. You come to stand beside him as he pulls his boxers up, looking up at him affectionately. He then slides his shirt onto your form with ease before helping you pull your arms through the sleeves.

The shirt smells just like him, an intoxicating musk paired with amber and sandalwood. You exchange a knowing, grateful glance with him and he returns the look with a smile. He laces his fingers with yours and leads you to the bathroom in your bedroom.

"D'ya want to take a bath with me tonight, dove? You might be sore tomorrow," he says.

You're almost starstruck by his question. A shower together wasn't uncommon if he had the time to spare, neither was him running you a bath if he was running short on time, but he'd never asked about a bath together before. You'd never thought to ask about it before either, deciding the act was too romantically intimate.

"You'll take one with me..?"

"'Course I will, bunny," he replies, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, "Is that a yes, then?"

He waits for you to hum a soft 'mhm,' before turning the water on. You sit on the closed toilet as he glances down at you. Without taking his eyes off of you, he leans down to pick up your favorite vanilla bubble bath soap. Only then does he look away from you to pour a decent amount of soap under the running water in your large tub.

Most nights, he wouldn't dare use your soap, let alone bathe in it. It was almost as if he was starting to care less and less about covering his tracks. But you knew that wasn't true and he'd probably just wash your scent off as soon he got home.

Steve sat himself on the edge of the tub next to you, one hand on your thigh and the other swirling the soap to create more bubbles. The first time he'd done this for you, you told him you liked a lot of bubbles, and he remembered that. He always remembered the things you like.

You continued to watch him while the water rose in the bathtub. When it was considerably full with the warm water and thick vanilla-scented froth, he stood and offered his hand to you. A smile graces his lips when you place your hand in his. Once you're standing, he pulls his shirt over your head and helps you lower yourself into the water. The bubbles embrace you as you scoot up to give him enough room behind you.

He joins you only a few moments later, his legs stretching out on either side of you as he pulls you into his lap. His strong arms wrap around your midsection tightly and you melt into his touch. Your eyes close in contentment, your head tilts back to rest lazily on his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles through his chest as he places a kiss on your temple. Your face nuzzles into his neck to place a soft kiss at the base of his throat.

"You comfortable, dove?"

"More than," you whisper, lost in the feeling of his embrace.

"We can stay like this for as long as you want," Steve replies as he glances down at you, "I promise."

Does he do this for her too? Touch her with such a tenderness that you can’t help but swoon at? Whisper soft, sweet nothings into her ear that would make anyone weak?

Only a few beats of silence pass before he speaks again, "M'gonna give you the world one day," he murmurs, "You're my sunshine, you know that, right?"

'and if i could give you the moon i would give you the moon'

The unusual affectionate sentiments throw you off. It wasn't odd for him to be sweet to you, but it was different for him to be expressing it so verbally. He usually preferred to show his affection towards you in more physical ways- it used to be easier that way. While the words are nice to hear, silky as they roll off his tongue, they sting a little. As far as his loving nature goes, you would never be the first to hear the loving words he spews.

Your heart clenches, but you respond nonetheless, "And you, mine," you whisper back.

Minutes pass by as Steve holds you close in the water, the fragrant bubbles surrounding you both. It's a moment of tender vulnerability that you don't get to share with him often. His whispered promises pierce you, leaving you both longing for more, and you wishing for a future where these moments with him are reserved for you. He's like broken glass slipping through the cracks between your fingers, and you're like water in his hands.

Steve began to gently wash your body, his touch gentle and filled with care as he ran the soapy loofah over your skin. He always knew how to soothe your aches from the physical exertion, but the emotional weight of being the other woman was untreatable. His hands moved in soothing circles, kisses raining down on your shoulders and neck. Occasionally he mumbles little praises like 'my pretty dove,' and 'such a cute little bunny,' in your ear.

"Gonna miss you tonight," you admit as he rinses the loofah in the water.

He pauses briefly before rinsing the bubbles off of you, "I know- I miss you every night, dove."

'Then stay,' you want to say- but you don't.

"But you know I'll always come back to you, right?" he adds, "And even though I leave, my heart always stays here with you."

You want to say more but instead hum another low 'mhm', reaching forward to pull the plug from the drain. The water, tinted slightly white from the bubbles and soap, spirals down the drain. Steve helps you stand and steps out of the tub, grabbing a towel for you and one to wrap around his waist. He cocoons you in a fluffy, plush towel, his touch lingering as he dries you off. Then he dries himself off just enough to throw his boxers back on before taking you back into your bedroom.

"What're you wearing t'night, bunny?" he inquires, leading you to sit on your bed.

He shuffles over to your dresser, awaiting your answer. When he doesn't receive a response, he cocks his brow up at you expectantly, and you shrug back at him.

"Black lace," you finally respond, "And your shirt..?"

When he doesn't answer immediately, nerves pool in your stomach as a manifestation of your worry that you've crossed a boundary. Steve glances at you and a storm of emotions swirl behind his deep blue eyes for a moment. The room feels heavy, the air being replaced with thick tension and unspoken thoughts.

"Sweetheart, I don't know if that's a good idea tonight," he sighs, his head lowering to avoid your gaze.

How silly of you to think you could keep a piece of him here. His bits and pieces you thought you got to keep were reserved for her too, now that you think of it. You merely got her scraps. But he's her fiancé, so what else could you have expected?

"It's alright, I'm sorry," you say, mumbling the added, "Don't know why I asked anyways."

A frown makes its way onto his face, "Bunny, please don't do that,” he coos as he grabs your lace panties from the drawer.

"Don't apologize to me." Steve's eyes soften as he walks over to you, his hand delicately lifting your chin to make you meet his gaze. "You can have my shirt."

"Steve, really, it's-"

"You can have it. I know it's hard not having any piece of me here, I feel the same way when I'm without you, my sunshine," he admits with a soft smile.

"Thank you," you whisper, thanking him for both the offer and the vulnerability he gives you.

His hands cup your cheeks, one thumb brushing your cheek. He presses his lips to yours without another word. The kiss is slow and chock-full of passion, a silent promise of the love he feels for you. You practically sink into the feeling of his lips on yours, cursing whatever force brought you into his life after he met her.

When he breaks the kiss with a soft sigh, forehead resting on yours, you open your eyes. You stare longingly into the familiar seas of blue, getting lost in them. You start to feel like you're drowning again, but, this time, the sinking is caused by the way he looks at you.

'you are sick, and you're married and you might be dyin' but you're holdin' me like water in your hands'

Your body shivers as your air conditioning turns on. He walks to the bathroom to grab the shirt then slides it over your shaking form.

“Better?” he asks softly.

“So much better,” you reply with a yawn, savoring the scent of him on his shirt.

Steve tilts his head in adoration, “I’ll get dressed and we’ll go to bed, okay bunny?”

You nod in agreement then push the disheveled comforter to the far side of the bed. Steve slides back into his pants that were long forgotten earlier in the night before turning to face you. He watches affectionately as you scoot backward on the bed to lie down, a smile threatening to force its way onto his face.

Once you're settled in comfortably, he takes his spot next to you and pulls you into his side. His heart starts to beat a little faster than usual when you lay your head on his chest. A strong arm wraps around your waist to hold you as close as possible, his other hand stroking your hair back in a soothing manner.

Your bedroom is enveloped in an aching silence as Steve holds you as close as possible. Time always seems to stand still whenever he holds you. The only reminder of the outside world's existence is the impending, and unavoidable, separation soon to come that weighs heavily on you. The weight is heavy on him too, but he'd never tell you just how heavy it is for him.

His chest rises and falls with each steady, slow breath he takes. You can feel and faintly hear his heart beating just beneath your ear, a bittersweet reminder that he's real and actually there- that this isn't just a dream.

The room is bathed in a soft glow from the moonlight filtering through your curtains, creating a serene ambiance. It's a serenity that doesn't feel deserved, a stark contrast to the guilt and longing that nip at your flesh.

Steve breaks the silence, "I do love you, you know," he admits in a whisper.

"I know," you reply with an equally soft tone, "and I love you."

"You're my everything," he promises.

"I wish I could be."

"You are," he says reassuringly, "Bunny, you mean everything to me. Please don't ever doubt what I feel for you."

You squeeze your eyes shut tight in an attempt to hold back the tears that long to spill over. You've heard these words before, but tonight they feel more real. Maybe they feel more real because they're only spoken in this intimate space that you and Steve created.

"But you go back to her every night," you mumble, half hoping he didn't hear and half hoping he did.

His movements still, his body tensing for a moment. He heard.

He sighs deeply, "I have to, dove, you know that. But I promise that one day, soon, we won't have to hide. You deserve more than this and I'm going to give you more. Just hang in there for me a little longer."

You want to believe him. You want so badly to believe the promises of a future he's selling you, but you can't. If you give in to all of the promises and all of the desires, what do you have left to keep you grounded? Why gamble in putting your trust in something that's nothing more than an idea?

"I won't ask you to leave her, but who do you want, Steve?"

He pauses as if thinking about his answer, "You. It's always you."

"Then why does it hurt so much?" you whisper with a trembling voice.

His hold on you tightens, "Because you're a good person. Loving you is the most beautiful but agonizing thing I've ever felt, and I can't keep hurting you. I'm going to fix this, okay?"

When you don't say anything, he speaks again, "I wouldn't promise you something I can't keep. Try to get some sleep for me, bunny. I'll be back tomorrow, just like always."

There's a quiet, unspoken understanding between the two of you. For now, you close your eyes and find comfort in his presence and warmth. The soothing feeling of his hand in your hair and arm around your waist puts you to sleep rather quickly. You always fell asleep faster when he was here, and you probably always will.

Steve stares down at your peaceful, sleeping form for about an hour after you fall asleep. His eyes trail over the face he's come to never stop thinking about. From the very moment he wakes until the time he sleeps, he's thinking about you. You never slipped his mind and it didn't seem to matter whether he was with you, her, or by himself.

Of course, he'd never pegged himself as the selfish type, but he was, and he knew it now. He knew it was selfish of him to keep you and her, but he'd be selfish even if he ended things with you earlier since he would always come back to you. Now he was in too deep and it was simply a matter of who he had to hurt; nobody could come out unscathed at this point.

"God, I love you," he murmurs, his statement falling on deaf ears.

He gently lifts your head off of him and onto your pillow before slowly getting out of your bed. After he stands, he tucks you in under your comforter. The room is quiet aside from your soft breathing as he pulls his flannel on, buttoning it up to cover his naked chest. He pulls a little box from his pants pocket and adorns you with the gift he bought for you. Steve takes a brief second to memorize your expression before he turns to leave. When he slips out of the room, he can't help but feel the guilt of the choices and promises he's made.

The door clicks shut behind him, waking you slightly. You notice that his warm figure isn't under you anymore. You'd expected it, but it hurts nonetheless. So, you drift back into an almost restless sleep, hoping to wake up from the cruel dream where the man you love isn't truly yours. A small and irrational part of you prays that when you wake up you'll be in the future; a future where your love can be more than a symphony in the night.

'when you saw the dead little bird, you started cryin' but you know the killer doesn't understand'

When you wake, thick sunlight pours through the blinds and curtains. The morning sun that you used to love waking up to is now just a brutal reminder that another night has passed, and you're still waiting. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and trying to reorient yourself. The emptiness in the room bathes you in loneliness.

As you stretch and get ready to get up, the feeling of something cold sliding around your neck makes you pause. You look down to find a delicate rose gold chain with a small pendant. Your brows furrow in confusion as you pull it up closer to your face to observe it. There, hanging from the chain, is a matching rose gold locket. The locket is heart-shaped and detailed with intricate lace patterns. It opens with a tiny latch to reveal, what you assume is, space for a small picture.

Your heart flutters as you realize it's a gift from Steve. Gently, you open the locket to find a tiny 's.g.r' engraved on the empty side and a small photograph of the two of you on the other. It's a candid shot, and your favorite picture, from a few months ago. It was taken by Bucky when the three of you went to get ice cream in the park after a four week-long mission. The photo captured a moment of genuine happiness on both of your faces, only weeks before Steve made the first move on you.

Tears spill freely from your eyes as you smile down at the locket, closing it in your hands. A knock sounds at the door, pulling you out of your thoughts. You sniffle and wipe the tears from your eyes. Your legs fling lazily over the edge of the bed and you make your way to the door.

"Coming," you call out.

You open the door to find Steve standing there. His hair is messy, his hand still running through the damp strands, and his eyes are slightly red. Your eyes widen a little at his disheveled state.

"Steve? What are you doing here so early, are you okay? I-"

"I told you I would fix it, and I did," he states, "I choose you- I want an honest life with you and I always will."

taglist:

@pigeonmama @rogersbarber

if you'd like to be to my general taglist (for steve rogers and other non-chris evans characters i write for), feel free to ask or visit my taglist form to be tagged in more specific fics :)

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firestorm-heroes · 11 months

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@steven-g-rogers

Layla charged through the door with her phone blasting an edited song clip she'd found, or possibly made, where instead of Britney, it said "it's your birthday, bitch"

"STEEEEEEVE!" She stood in the doorway, nearly bouncing on her toes with excitement of some sort. "Steve Steve Steve."

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userpeggycarter · 1 year

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how to seduce Agent Carter, according to Steven G. Rogers.

↳ for the 2022 Steggy Secret Santa. happy holidays, @pegsccarter! ❤️

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vellicore · 11 months

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Somewhere in the multiverse, attorneys Steven G. Rogers and James B. Barnes are working together to win a case.

#gif made by me #mickeyhenrys gifs #bucky barnes #steve rogers #james buchanan barnes #captain america #stucky #stevebucky #bucky barnes au #Steve rogers au #stucky au #stevebucky au

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between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place · 7 months

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A small November fill for Build a Bucky Bingo 2023 @buckybarnesevents and the prompt AU: Regency.

Ficlet under the cut!

Rating: G Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanoff no warnings (apart from wild liberties taken in regards to historical accuracy)

“I regret not having paid witness to such a memorable occasion. It shall surely be the talk of the town for at least a full day.” Rogers dipped his brush into the pan and added swift strokes of brown to the untamed landscape emerging on his canvas; he was in his shirtsleeves, his easel set up next to the always blazing fireplace. He paused, scrutinizing his marks. “And are you certain there is none among the ladies who has caught your eye?”

James bristled. “As I have told both you and my mother repeatedly, I am not looking to marry this season.”

He rose from the ottoman he’d flung himself down onto in a fit of boredom, to wander around the stuffy drawing room. Rain poured down outside, grey curtains obscuring the gardens; James was itching to get his hands on the reins or his boots on the ground. He turned his back to the windows.

His friend had not been taken aback by his sudden temper. He rested the end of the paintbrush on the pointy tip of his chin, considering James with the attentiveness he usually devoted to his paintings. There was a smudge of blue on the angled point of his jaw; he would forget to clean it off and be scolded for it at dinner.

“What about Miss Romanova?”

“Natalia?” James balked. “Have you lost your senses?”

Rogers regarded him with a crooked smile. “I was referring to the younger Miss Romanova.”

James opened his mouth and closed it again. He could hear his mother’s voice echoing the same question. Yelena Romanova was a pretty girl, from a respected family—and to his knowledge did not hold the same stance on marriage as her older sister. She was also known to be an accomplished painter. Her eyes did have nearly the same blue colour as—

He banished the thought from his head.

“No,” he said, declaring the topic of conversation over.

His friend did not heed the cue. “Then what about Miss Maximoff? I recall seeing you dance with her on more than one occasion, if I am not mistaken.”

James only grunted in response. He did not care to divulge that the main reason for his dancing with Miss Maximoff so often was that it provided his sister ample opportunity to converse with the brother, Mr Pietro Maximoff. Rogers did not need to know the extent to which his little sister had him wrapped around her finger.

He came to stand next to the easel to observe the half-finished painting, which did not seem half-anything in his eyes; the desolate northern hills were captured in such detail that James would have sworn he could feel the howling wind pulling the breath from his lungs.

“And you?” he asked, rather abruptly.

“What of me?” Steven looked up at him.

James waved his hand in the air. “Is there no lady who has charmed you with her intelligence, lively wit and …. extensive knowledge of art and poetry?”

His friend laughed. “I do not suppose any lady possessing all of those qualities would bestow her charms on one such as myself.”

James made a face his mother would have scolded him for had she been there to witness it. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about yourself that way.”

Steven offered him a rather pitying smile. “I am only stating the truth, as you well know. A man’s fortune can make up for much of his shortcomings in matters of looks or manners. As I am neither in possession of good looks nor a fortune—”

“Stop, please.” James grasped ahold of his arm and spoke with a rush of some strange emotion, “Not every match is made for money.”

He came to his senses a moment later, to discover they were all but standing chest to chest; the brush still held in Steven’s hand was threatening to stain his waistcoat. James let go of his wrist and backed away, face hot from the proximity of the fire.

“No,” his friend said slowly, eyeing him with a curious expression, “I suppose some are foolish enough to make them for love.”

“You are making my head spin,” Natalia drawled from where she was lounging on the chaise in that particular manner of hers, much like a cat ready to pounce. “Will you quit that and tell me what is the matter, or do you prefer to thread holes in our carpets?”

James stopped his pacing and spun around.

“I—” He paused and stared up at the ceiling. “How do you tell someone that you cannot fathom spending the rest of your life in anyone’s company but theirs?” he asked, rather more desperately than he’d wished.

Natalia dropped her book and pretense. “Bad poetry is a favoured choice.” Her eyes gleamed with a bright hunger. “Who is she?”

James shook his head and turned his back on her; he clenched his fists by his side. “You must forget I said anything.”

He walked over to the French windows. It was raining again, as it had been all those weeks ago. A servant scurried along the path from the stables with a basket in her arms. James stared out over the rain-damp grounds; they felt less real to him than a painting.

A slim hand grasped his elbow. “How can I help?” Natalia had never cared much for propriety when it did not benefit her—and anyone who dared to suggest anything about her character was sure to find their own reputation more affected.

“You cannot. Please,” James begged, “leave it be.”

“You do not have to tell me,” she said in a soft voice. “But I do not like to see my friend this way and I believe I know what is ailing him.”

It should not have come as a surprise that his thoughts and desires were so transparent to her. James banished the stab of fear and laid his hand on top of hers. “Then you know there is no cure,” he confessed.

“But friendship may be a balm. And if one’s friend would happen to find themselves in a similar position …”

James tried not to betray his astonishment; he had heard whispers but always disregarded them as evil, envious rumors. A small, wild thing fluttered in his chest as he turned to face her. “What are you proposing?”

She looked up at him with a matching fervour in her gaze. “Would you not say most offers of marriage are made on the grounds of a mutual advantage?”

James could scarcely breath and was not certain he’d understood her. “What would be the advantage of such a marriage?”

Natalia smiled at him and there was a deep sadness to it.

“Freedom, Mr Barnes.”

#BaBB2023 #Build a Bucky Bingo 2023 #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky fic #stevebucky #regency au #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #pining #friends to lovers

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agentnamed · 1 year

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@steven-g-rogers liked for a starter with expecting Peggy

"You feel that?" Peggy asked pressing his hand to the swell of her pregnant belly, where their baby was currently kicking and moving around.

"That's our little miracle, Steve. They started moving around like that when you started talking... I think they like the sound of their daddy's voice."

#steven-g-rogers #💋╰‘𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 › director carter #pregnancy tw

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stucky-headcanon-bot · 1 year

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😼

#steve rogers #steve #captain america tfa #captain america the winter soldier #captain america #captain america the first avenger #Captain america civil War #cacw #catws #cafta #Steven g rogers #bucky barnes

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burberrycanary · 2 months

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Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions)

Stucky, Endgame Fix-it, Road Trip Get Together

An expression crosses Bucky’s face like a shadow, tightly controlled and gone fast. But he rolls his head to the side, looking over at Steve, calm and steady, worn by life and changed so much but still here, by this small fire and lit with the unsteady golden glow, under these too many stars.

“Everywhere I go,” Bucky says, “the past is this pit. But I’ve got to keep it behind me, because if I don’t, I’ll fall in. And someday I’m not going to have the strength to crawl back out. So it’s got to stay behind me, Steve—the big nothing right at the back of my feet.”

Steve stares at his walking-around miracle brought back to him by so much carnage and wretched injustice he’ll never be able to set right, not in all his remaining days.

Because here’s the truth: he’s never once caught Bucky and every time he’s ended up following, he’s been too late to save him from all this suffering—the war, the future, and the long fall into the cold that came in between.

Honesty is all he has to give, which may just be adding to the burdens of a man doomed to carry a terrible load he can’t put down.

But maybe there’s something in the old paradox: the weight that makes you feel lighter.

Maybe that’s what loving someone is.

Read Chapter 46 on AO3

Only one more chapter to go—I'm almost done with this! Many thanks to my betas @village-skeptic, @booksandabeer and @zenaidamacrouras1 🥰

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misshoneybee · 2 years

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˖ ࣪ 𖥔 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𖥔 ࣪ ˖

— ℳ𝒾𝓈𝓈ℋ𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎ℬ𝑒𝑒'𝓈 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 —

Pairing: College!Reader x DBF!Steve Rogers Content Warnings: Age gap (Reader is early twenties, Steve is mid-forties), infidelity, bratty!reader, smut, light dom/sub, use of pet names, daddy kink, oral sex (m-rec), dirty talk, degradation, hold the moan, squirting, creampie Word Count: 4.8k A/N: Please just pretend it's the fifteenth, lmao. Anyway, I got beef with P*ggy C*rter so this one's personal. 😜 I was so happy that so many of you guys seemed to enjoy 'The Night' so I'm very excited to share the second Kinktober prompt with you! As always, my blog is 18+ so: MINORS, DNI! Anyway, enjoy!! xx. Navigation: Masterpost | Playlist | Divider Credit | Kinktober Masterpost | October Eighth | October Twenty-Second Summary: When your dad’s best friend tags along on a family vacation, there’s just something about him that you can’t stay away from. The only obstacle? You needed to get that ring off his fucking finger.

You hoped to God that you were hiding the little smirk on your lips better than it felt like you were. The way Steve was holding his jaw and the way his hand was clenched on the tablecloth made you stifle a giggle into your hand before silently pressing your finger to your lips, gesturing for him to keep silent as your parents carried on a conversation on the other side of the table.

When they’d told you that your dad’s old roommate from college was coming along for the trip to your family’s house in Boulder, you were annoyed. You already didn’t care to go on some stupid family vacation on one of your few, precious breaks from college, but you certainly didn’t care to have some middle-aged, stick-in-the-mud tag along on it.

Then again, when his sleek, little sports car had appeared at the top of the long, private driveway, and he’d gotten out, you hadn’t expected Dr. Steven G. Rogers to look like that. When you’d greeted him alongside your parents, your eyes had been wide as he took your hand to gently shake. The older man towered over your frame, his jaw covered in a lush beard with the most beautiful shade of aquamarine eyes, and fuck—he was fit.

You’d only been at the ski resort for two days before the heated glances and barely-there touches had become too much for the both of you. Maybe you’d been playing with fire, walking around the big, drafty house in tiny, thin pajamas and without a bra, but everything had caught in a blaze when he’d found you in the middle of the night, climbing on the kitchen counter to reach the expensive vodka that your parents kept on the top shelf. His hands on your hips had steadied you as you jumped, frightened at the silent touch, before lowering you to sit on the cold marble.

Within seconds, in a silent agreement to keep this just between the two of you, Steve’s lips had easily found yours as you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of his stupid, plaid pajama pants that were slung low on his hips. Your hand found his already hard cock and he’d let out a quiet hiss as your hand worked his length until he’d finally had enough, carrying you down the hall to his room and fucking you until the sun had almost risen.

Since that night, much to your parents’ obliviousness, you hadn’t spent a single night alone in your bed. When the two of you weren’t fucking, you were laying bare, tangled in the warm, rumpled sheets, and talking about anything and everything. You discussed your major in molecular biology, his stint as a captain in the military, your last breakup, and the ring you’d spotted on his finger after the first time he’d fucked you.

At first, you felt a pang of guilt but after he opened up to you, you knew all about Peggy and how strained their marriage was. You knew they hadn’t fucked in six months. And you knew that maybe you liked him a little more than you’d initially planned. There were only two more days before you needed to go back to school and you were putting off the conversation of what came next, no matter how much you wanted to know and how it was driving you crazy.

As you took a sip of the sweet red wine, Steve gave a little surprised cough that hid a groan and it almost gave everything away; how your hand was rubbing his swollen length, hidden beneath the tablecloth, how you definitely were far less innocent than your parents believed, how you were fucking their forty-something year old friend.

“They work her too hard.” Your dad mentioned to Steve over his rocks glass, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes. Your mom hadn’t shut up about how disappointed she was that Peggy hadn’t been able to join you—you couldn’t stop thanking God that she hadn’t.

“You know Peg,” Steve shrugged nonchalantly, taking a sip of his water as he white-knuckled the glass, “She wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“We know,” You mother sighed, her fork picking at the now-wilted greens on her plate as she frowned, “It’d just be nice for your wife to be able to go on vacation with us sometime.”

“You’re a cardiologist for Christ’s sake and you still find time.” Your father agreed, giving a pointed nod towards Steve. You bit your tongue as bile rose in your throat. Did they even know how unhappy Steve was? Why were they talking about her?

Steve’s chuckle was light, even though he registered the way you’d slowly taken your hand back from his lap, “She and I both knew that I came second to SHIELD when we got married.” With another shrug, he added, “I guess you can’t help who you fall in love with.”

It felt like your blood ran cold as jealousy snaked its way around your ribcage, squeezing your chest tightly. Maybe he did still love her. They’d almost been together for as long as you’d been alive. Of course, all he wanted was a fling—you were just a way to get his dick wet since his bitch of a wife was too busy with her job.

You barely registered the way your body had grown numb until your wineglass slipped from your fingers and tipped over on the table, cracking the delicate glass as the burgundy bled into the pristine fibers of the white tablecloth as a sharp gasp was pulled through your lips at the mess. Your eyes found Steve’s and you saw the slightest shift in his brow as he registered the envy in your expression.

“You okay, sweet pea?” Your dad frowned worriedly, standing, and grabbing some towels to mitigate the damage you’d done. Your mother busied herself drying it up and fussing with the linen. Being an only child meant you were constantly babied and sometimes, it worked to your advantage.

“I’m sorry,” You sighed, pressing a hand to your cheek as you forced yourself to sound more run down than annoyed, and even a little embarrassed, “I’m okay—I just feel a little sick to my stomach. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Your eyes flashed to Steve and your irritation grew as you saw a little glint of entertainment staring back at you, biting the inside of your cheek, you took a deep breath and chose to ignore him, turning your attention to your mother with a sad expression, “I think I’m going to lay down.”

Brushing some hair from your forehead, she frowned, “Are you sure? We were going to go on the gold slope—“

“I don’t know if I’ll feel up to it.” You gave a shrug, fake disappointment crossing your face as you pointedly ignored Steve, “Will you wake me up before you go? Maybe I’ll be feeling better by then.

Maybe spite wasn’t the best motivator, especially with the way your fucking orgasm was evading you after almost half an hour. After changing into a deep, green silk negligee, you’d sent a few pictures to Bucky, your on-again-off-again fuck buddy. Predictably, he’d responded with enthusiasm, showering you in compliments and praise as you sent videos back and forth. He’d sent a shaky video of himself coming more than ten minutes ago and you’d finally had to relent, faking a quick orgasm in your front facing camera before putting your phone down.

Had Steve ruined your ability to come any other way aside from with him? Your breath came quicker as you rolled your hips with the vibrator that was pressed against your clit, a quiet whine breaking through your lips as you stayed on the edge, balancing but never quite falling over.

Three muffled voices in the hall made you jump as you pressed the button on the bright pink toy, abruptly switching off the patterned vibrations as you yanked a thin blanket over top of you. A sharp knock sounded against the heavy, wooden door and your breath caught in your chest. Pretending to be asleep, you fought to even the slow breaths that were filling your lungs. After a few more knocks, your door finally creaked open and heavy footsteps found their way to your bedside.

The cologne was familiar; it had been rubbed off on to your own skin several times now. It was clean and fresh, reminding you of sun on your skin and sand between your toes rather than the blankets of snow that were falling outside the windows. Steve’s heavy hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a gentle shake as he murmured your name, “Wake up. Your parents are leaving; they wanted me to check one more time and see if you wanted to go with them.”

Remaining silent, you willed your face to stay carefully blank as his hand slowly drifted up and down your arm, causing goosebumps to pepper the surface as you suppressed a shiver despite how annoyed you were with him. It was like his touch set you on fire, gilding you like some precious thing that was just for him. Pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, you counted the seconds that seemed to last hours. The sooner he left you the fuck alone, the sooner you could try and come—without thinking of him. After a long moment and one last brush of his fingers against your cheek, he slipped back out of the room.

“She’s pretty feverish.” Steve’s voice was low as he spoke to your parents in the hall, and you willed them to leave. As they walked away, their voices quieted and you finally exhaled, resting a hand on your stomach as you fought to calm the racing beat of your heart. Any progressed you’d made had been washed away and you murmured a curse, flopping on to your back helplessly.

A few minutes later, you heard the rumble from your parents’ car in the driveway. The sound of the tires quickly faded, and it wasn’t long before the heavy footsteps were back in front of your door. Sinking into the mattress, pulling your blanket tighter around yourself, you’d only just squeezed your eyes shut when the door opened.

The side of your mattress sank, and Steve’s heavy hand landed on your waist; it was like you could feel the little smirk on his lips. Leaning down, he gently brushed some hair from your neck before placing a barely there kiss on your soft skin, murmuring into your ear, “Wake up, princess.”

You remained silent, forcing your body to remain still no matter how badly his touch made you want to beg for more. The hand drifted from your hip to your ass, giving the soft cushion of your skin a firm squeeze as his body pressed against your back, his voice was low, “I know you’re faking it.”

Illusion shattered, you hastily jerked away from him, using what little leverage you had to try and shove him away, “Fuck you, Steve.”

You were fuming and tried to smack him away, but it was futile—he was stronger than you and easily maneuvered you to straddle his lap, a careful eyebrow raised as he took both of your wrists in one of his hands, resting them against your chest, “What was that about?”

“Just leave me alone.” You fruitlessly tried to pull away, but he only pulled you closer with a heavy hand on your back, pressing your body to his. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Was my princess jealous?” He murmured.

“I’m not your princess,” You spat, “And I’m not fucking jealous.”

“And now you’re lying to me?” He tsked. The quiet, little chuckle that he let out made your face grow warm, embarrassment and irritation dancing together and licking up your spine. Steve pressed a soft kiss just beneath your jaw, “Come on, baby. Tell daddy why you’re upset.”

“You said you were separating with her.” You finally bit out, avoiding his eyes as exhaled slowly.

“I am.” He confirmed, a hand drifting to your chin, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheek.

“You didn’t tell my parents about it.” Your eyes focused on the ring that rested on the fourth finger of the hand that held yours against his chest.

Understanding crossed his face, a little smile ticking at the corner of his lips, “Is that why you’re upset?” Shaking his head, he released your hands, removed the ring and sat it on your bedside table, before taking your face in his hands instead, brushing a kiss against your forehead as your wide eyes searched his, “Silly girl. I’m moving out next week. I already got an apartment in the city.”

It was almost embarrassing, how light your heart felt at his words, “Really?”

“Yes, baby. And my lawyers are drawing up papers this month. Nothing’s been going on between me and her for a while—we’re just waiting for the right time to tell everyone. I promise.” As he slipped his arms around you, you relaxed into his touch, burying your face in his neck, brushing your lips against it as relief flooded your body. The two of you remained like that for several minutes before you felt him shift to pick up something from your bed, murmuring lowly, “Now, what’s this?”

Sitting up, you followed his sparkling eyes to what was in his hand. The bright pink silicone that rested in his palm stared back at you and you felt warmth crawl up your chest as your face caught fire. Pressing the button, it turned on and you could only let out a squeak, “Steve!”

“Is that my name, baby?” He grinned, raising an eyebrow as he clicked through the vibration patterns that seemed so loud in the otherwise silent house.

“Give it back!” Leaning out of his arms, you snatched it from his hand, fumbling to turn it off before hiding it behind your back. When you turned to face him, his attention was no longer on your face.

His bottom lip was caught in his teeth, his eyes darkening as his voice came out in a low rumble, “Oh, sweet girl. What are you wearing?”

Suddenly, you remembered yourself and the thin silk and lace that covered your body, cupping your breasts and hugging your waist. Before you could formulate any sort of response, his eyes found your phone tangled in the sheets. It was like you could see the gears click into place as he snatched the device before you could grab it, his thumb keying in your birthday and unlocking it quickly.

“Steve—” It felt like you were going to combust as the messages between you and Bucky popped up on your screen; you were silent as he scrolled through them slowly, taking in each picture and video that you’d sent.

Clicking the last one you’d sent just minutes before he’d knocked on your door, you could see the still-shot thumbnail of the video and froze as he pressed play, a smirk on his lips as your breathy moans came from the speaker of your phone. Watching him watch yourself made you feel lightheaded.

The video showed everything. You’d had your phone propped up between your spread legs, your negligee shoved up around your waist, and your puffy pussy bared to the camera as you thrust the toy into it, rocking your hips against it as you cried quietly, “Fuck—yes! God, that’s it! Use my pussy. Fuck me so good, baby…”

It felt like eons as your cries pitched higher before you faked your climax. Running his tongue over his teeth, he locked your phone and tossed it aside. His eyes were dark as they found yours, his fingers digging into your waist, “I know you didn’t send these to daddy, sweetheart, and I know you don’t have to fake it with me, so who did you send them to?”

Shaking your head, your voice wavered as you denied quietly, “I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me, princess.” A hand trailed up your thigh, slipping beneath the lace-lined edge of your slip. Steve’s fingers easily found you bare, and a low groan came from his chest as he played with your damp folds, brushing a finger up and down them slowly as he clicked his tongue, asking once again, calmly, “Who did you send them to?”

Your lip quivered, a new rush of wetness coating his fingers as he slipped them further inside your pussy as you whispered, “M—my ex-boyfriend.”

“Daddy wasn’t giving you enough attention, so you had to be a little slut and find it somewhere else, didn’t you?” Shaking his head, he withdrew his fingers and ignored your whine. Cleaning your wetness from his digits with his tongue, he gave a quiet chuckle, “Such a tease. You’re just a little whore, showing this sweet little pussy to any boy who asks, aren’t you?”

Shaking your head, your voice was small as you denied blushingly, “No—”

Removing you from his lap, he placed you to kneel on the bed, coming to stand, “Since you want to be used, I’m gonna use you.” He undid his belt, his eyes holding yours as the leather fell to the ground. Undoing his jeans, he shoved them down enough to reveal his erection, the hard tip leaking as he stroked it slowly, your eyes following his hand as he murmured, “You’re gonna show daddy you’re sorry and suck his cock, okay?” Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, unable to take your eyes from the way his thumb brushed over his slit. A hand came to rest around your neck like a necklace, forcing your gaze back up to his as he chided softly, “Use your words, princess.”

Nodding dumbly, your voice was raspy as you softly agreed, “Yes, daddy.”

At once, you dragged your hot tongue across you palm, wetting your hand before wrapping it firmly around the base of his cock, ruddy and swollen with need. He groaned, his hips giving a sharp jerk as you stroked you hand up and down his length several times. Finally, leaning forward, your tongue flicked out to lick the pearl of salty precum that had begun to leak from his slit.

“Fuck, princess,” Steve groaned, his hand holding the back of your head, guiding your mouth closer to his cock.

At his broken moan, your confidence grew as you dragged your tongue along the thick vein that ran from the base to his sensitive tip. Reaching its crown, you swirled your tongue around it before taking it in the wet heat of your mouth.

Silently, you mused that he certainly had the longest cock of any man you’d ever been with. Of course, you’d been intimidated the first time that you’d seen it, but you’d never been one to turn down a challenge. Seconds felt like hours as you took his length deeper into your mouth, inch by inch until the tip brushed against the back of your throat.

At the unfamiliar sensation, you gagged and pulled back, your lips slick and swollen as saliva dripped down your chin and you gasped for air.

His brows were drawn together in concern as his hooded eyes shot open, spotting the way yours had begun to water, “You’re doing so well, baby.”

His other hand that rested on your face brushed a thumb gently over your cheekbone as his eyes peered into yours and you nodded. Holding his eyes, you watched his body relax as you took him back between your lips, jerking off the length that you couldn’t take. His hand on your head guided you slowly up and down his length, careful not to take him the whole way into your throat as you’d done before.

The nails of your hands that rested on his hips, gently pressed into his skin as you hollowed your cheeks around him, “Fuck, yeah, that’s my good girl.” The new suction forced a grunt from his mouth and tilted his head back, letting out a broken moan, “Sucking my cock like a goddamn dream.”

He stroked your hair as you found a rhythm, swollen lips wrapped around his length as you bobbed your head, watching for each little reaction he was giving. A whimper around his length made him curse as he tugged your hair, pulling you off his cock.

Taking in a sharp breath, you looked up at him from under your lashes. His thumb tugged at your swollen bottom lip, and he groaned, “Come here, princess.”

Like you were a doll, he guided you to lay on your back before tugging his sweater over his head and shedding his jeans. Climbing on the bed between your legs, he pushed the hem of your slip up your thighs slowly, “Fuck, look at this sweet little pussy… Spread your legs a little more for me, princess.” His hands on the inside of your thighs opened you up more to his starving eyes and you shyly turned your face to the side as his eyes devoured you. “You’re such a good girl…”

Letting out a low groan, Steve’s hands climbed higher, his thumb brushing over your swollen clit with unbridled adoration.

“Please…” You breathed out, your fingers tightening in the wrinkled sheets.

“Please what?” Steve teased, covering your body with his. Dragging the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit slowly, covering himself in your slick, he murmured, “You want daddy to fuck you? Is that it, baby? You want all my cum in this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, please…” Nodding dumbly, your chest rose and fell with each heavy, needy breath as he lined himself up with your entrance, “Fuck me, daddy. Need you to make me your little slut.”

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he pressed his swollen tip to your hole, and you whimpered at the stretch, your hips shifting in discomfort as he split you slowly. A deep moan was pulled from your throat as his thumb dragged small circles around your swollen bud that begged for his attention, “Oh god, Steve…”

The slight burn from the initial stretch quickly faded into a pleasurable ache between your legs and he gave you only a moment before slowly dragging out. He couldn’t ignore your breathy moans and the way your thick lashes fluttered shut at the sensation before he pushed back in sharply. He gave a few experimental thrusts before quickly finding a rhythm as he glided easily through your wet folds into the tight heat of your cunt.

Your hips rolled up to meet each of his thrusts, the both of you working together symbiotically as he hit a spot that made you clench around him and let out a whiny groan. A devilish grin crossed his bearded face and he murmured, “That feel good, baby?”

Before you could even nod, you giggled as he suddenly rolled you over. Sitting up whilst straddling his broad hips, you tugged the silk over your head and tossed it somewhere on your floor. Sinking back down on his length, you gasped as he bottomed out inside you and he let out a quiet hiss as his hands trailed up your waist, cupping your tits as his thumbs toyed with your sensitive, pebbled nipples.

“Fuck, daddy, ’s too big—” You whined, carefully rocking your hips as the muscles in your stomach clenched.

“I know, princess, but you can take it…” He let out a groan as you languidly grinded against him, your clit brushing against the coarse thatch of trimmed hair just above his cock each time you sank down on to him. “That’s it, princess. Just like that—you’re so good for me. I love this sweet little pussy…”

Together, you easily found a frenzied pace before the harmony of your whimpers and his moans was interrupted by a shrill ringtone. You gasped as he held your body close, leaning over and grabbing his phone, pressing a confusingly chaste kiss to your lips as groaned out, “Shit—stay quiet for me, baby.”

“Steve!” You hissed his name as he accepted the call with a sly grin.

“Hello?” He waited a moment for the voice on the other end of the line to respond, “Oh, yeah. She’s doin’ okay.” He grinned as your eyes went impossibly wider, your hands resting on his shoulders as you kept yourself carefully still.

Fucking. Shit.

It was your parents. Steve’s cock was nestled deep inside your cunt as he casually conversed with your parents, and that was so wrong and so fucking hot.

Quickly muting the microphone, he cocked an eyebrow, looking down to where your bodies were still joined, “Did I say you could stop?”

With a shaky breath, you resumed the languid grind, back and forth, your teeth digging into your lip as your clit pressed firmly against his pelvis.

He winked, unmuting the phone, “I think she’s okay. She’s probably still in bed…just. sleeping. I’ll shoot you a text after I check on her again,” You couldn’t help the way your walls clenched around him as his tip pressed against that special spot deep within you. He let out a low groan before quickly trying to cover, “Fuck, ba—stubbed my toe. Sorry.”

With a hand on your lower back, he guided you back and forth slowly, only half-listening to the voice on the other end of the line, “Yeah, I’ll let you know. See you in a few hours.”

As he tossed his phone to the hardwood floor with a clatter, his hands around your waist quickly took over. All but lifting and sinking you back down on the length of his rigid cock repeatedly, Steve’s hips continued to snap up into yours and you could only babble out, “Daddy—please, let me come. Want to come on your cock so bad—fuck!”

“Christ, baby—I can feel you squeezin’ around me. Almost told your parents how good you are at riding my cock, how good you feel wrapped around me.” He hammered into you with a deep groan, adding, “You want them to know you like fucking older guys? How daddy likes to play with this pussy while they sleep right down the hall?”

“Please—” You begged helplessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling your orgasm approaching like an unstoppable wave.

“Yeah, they don’t know their innocent little girl is a fucking whore.” Steve grunted, taking in the sight of your tits bouncing and the way you’d tossed your head back, with a little smirk, “They don’t know how wet you get when I eat this precious little cunt, dripping all over my tongue and tasting like honey. They don’t know how you beg daddy to come in your sweet pussy.”

At that, the wave finally overtook you as he hammered against your g-spot, making you squirm as a little trickle of your wetness leaked out around where his cock was pressed into you before the dam broke and you gushed over his length. You let out a squeal of his name, scratching down his back, leaving red streaks on his pale skin.

Steve’s thrusts finally grew uneven, slowing as he grunted out, “That’s it, baby. I’m gonna fill this cunt up with all my cum—fuck!”

Your words were unintelligible as your eyes rolled back and he fucked you through both of your orgasms. Coming undone on top of him, you were unable to hold yourself up as he pressed deep into you, hard against your cervix as he spilled into you with a long, low moan, coating your walls with him. He sat up, staying inside of you, and opened his arms, allowing you to collapse against his hard, sweat-glistening body.

“Oh, fuck…” Your hips twitched with the aftershocks as he stayed inside, feeling your walls continuing to clench around him as you came down from the high. Looking down at where your bodies were joined, you felt your face grow warm at the wetness that was spattered over his Adonis belt and the cum that had leaked out from around the base of his cock, covering your petals and making you messy.

“That’s so much cum, daddy…” You whispered, resting your forehead against his and giggling softly.

He gave a low chuckle, his thumb caressing your cheek, “Can’t help it with you, baby.” Capturing your lips in a lazy kiss, you hummed as his tongue intertwined with yours slowly before parting, murmuring as his hand stroked up and down your bare back, “You did so good for me.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, burying your face in his neck. You could feel his chest shake as he laid back, pulling you along with him.

“You gettin’ all shy on me now, princess?” He chuckled and tugged you closer as you snuggled into him, murmuring against your temple, “Did I tell you my new place is about ten minutes from campus?”

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