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literaryavenger · 2 months

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Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related.

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training.

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch.

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity.

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do.

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked.

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down.

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing.

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo.

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days.

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely.

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life.

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it.

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates.

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me.

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear.

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with.

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?”

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!”

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again.

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

1K notes · View notes

evansbby · 9 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon, dubcon, heavy misogyny, daddy!kink, smutt in public (kind of), 18+ minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve takes his omega to her first pool party.

“Hey, baby. Look at this!”

Steve takes off into a run before canon-balling into the pool, making the water splash everywhere in the process. But he surfaces with a grin, flipping his hair off his forehead. His light blonde tufts look dark brown from the water, and the sun radiates against the droplets on his pale face, making him shimmer like a diamond. You can hear a bunch of people – including Natasha – complain because the splash from his jump has completely soaked them, but all Steve does is flip them off before shooting you a smug smile.

“Wow.” You say as you walk up to the edge of the pool. “That was really cool.”

Before Steve can answer, you see someone whizz past you from your peripheral. A moment later, there’s another gigantic splash as Ransom canon-balls in next to Steve, and you yelp as the water hits you. The brunette alpha surfaces with a grin that rivals Steve’s in smugness, with the latter looking on sourly as you clap politely at Ransom’s jump.

“That wasn’t nearly as impressive as mine.” Steve scoffs, eying you warningly. You immediately stop clapping. “And you splashed water all over my girlfriend, you fucking asshole.”

“It’s a pool party, Steve. God forbid she gets a bit of water on her.” Ransom rolls his eyes as he climbs out of the pool and flips Steve off before shooting you a smile which you don’t dare return.

The two of you are at Steve’s friend Ransom’s house. Or rather, in his backyard where a pool party is in full swing. It’s a particularly hot day and everyone’s either sunbathing or swimming or licking snow-cones made from Ransom’s “state of the art snow-cone machine.” (That was the first thing the brunette alpha had shown you and Steve when the two of you had arrived. He’d bought it especially for today).

“I mean, Ransom’s pool is alright.” Steve had told you earlier when the two of you were changing in the pool-house. “But you’d think it’s an Olympic size pool from the way he shows off about it. Baby, wait till you see the pool at my house, it’s twice the size of this one.”

You had nodded, although the idea of someone even owning a swimming pool of their very own – big or small – was so completely unfathomable to you. But everyone who was here today hadn’t even blinked an eye at all the luxuries this mansion had to offer. From the huge hallways and sparkling marble floors to the gigantic backyard which resembled more of a golf course. Not to mention the pool-house alone was twice the size of your house back home!

“This place is like a castle.” You had breathed, sliding your fingers over the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the pool-house, watching the party in full swing outside. Thor was handing out cans of beer, Natasha by his side in a pretty red bikini that made her body look incredible. Ransom and Andy were making snow-cones, and Sam and Bucky looked to be organising a game of pool volleyball. There was a net set up in the water, and it looked like they were arguing about picking teams.

You could also see a bunch of girls settled on the side of the pool, in pretty bikinis and stylish sunglasses. You recognised a few of them from campus, and that made you gulp. What if Steve left you to hang out with his friends? You pray these girls are nice and you’ll fit in.

Steve had snorted, coming up behind you with his hand on your waist, pulling you into his bare chest. “This place is not like a castle, omega. I can show you castles; you just wait till you see my house.” He had kissed down the nape of your neck, the feel of his lips making you sigh until he pulls away and frowns, tugging at your shirt. “Take this off. It’s a pool party, remember?”

He takes it off for you, licking his lips when he sees what’s underneath. He had bought the bikini for you a few days ago. It was white with baby pink strings tying the thong and also going around your neck. Steve had said it was extremely sexy and cute, but you felt vulnerable as ever and paranoid every time he’d finger the strings – like he was doing now. You’d double-tied them tightly, but all he had to do was tug at them and they’d come loose.

Steve had barely given you enough time to put your flip-flops on, as well as your cute flowery cover-up, before he’d dragged you outside to the party.

Which is where you are currently, and you can’t help but smile softly down at Steve, who looks extremely proud of the cannonball he’s just performed. He swims over to where you’re standing, reaching up to grab your ankles.

“Come in. The water’s nice and cool.”

Your heart skips a beat at how laid back he’s being. This is a different side to Steve, who was usually so stoic and strict. Either that, or he was downright devious. Sometimes though, sometimes he lets himself go and relax. Like when he’s playing video-games and gets really into it, or when the two of you are cuddling and he lets Steve Junior join in, or when the two of you study together. Or now.

“I – uh – I don’t really want to swim.” You answer awkwardly, and your alpha rolls his eyes, the grip he has on your ankles not loosening. But the thought of taking your cover-up off and being in such a revealing bikini in front of all these people has you shaking your head pleadingly at him.

“It’s a pool party, omega. That means you have to swim.” Steve tells you as if you’re a baby who doesn’t understand the concept of a pool party.

You exhale softly before sitting down by the edge of the pool and dipping your feet in, sighing at how nice the water feels. And a part of you does want to go in, but you don’t know why you feel so self-conscious here. Well, actually, you do know why. It’s because you feel so out of place, in this huge mansion of a house with all these people from college whom you probably have nothing in common with. They aren’t your friends, you don’t have any friends. And they certainly don’t want to be your friends either, you just know it.

Steve settles between your legs, spreading them and smirking up at you. He presses a light kiss to your inner thigh, and it’s innocuous enough but you still look around in alarm. But no one is watching the two of you and so you try to relax.

“Relax, omega.” Steve commands you, and you get a whiff of his summery scent and sigh as it seems to soothe you from the inside out. You shoot your alpha a small smile, and he only smirks, continuing to kiss your thigh as his hands slips up and down your bare legs. You freeze when you feel his fingers lock around your ankles, the sudden image of him cruelly tugging you into the water crossing your mind.

But Steve only lifts your foot up, licking his lips as he watches your white nail polish gleam in the sunlight. You gulp when he presses a kiss on your toe, before a dark, lustful look clouds his eyes and you pull away.

“Not here, Steve! Please!” You whisper.

“Why not? You’re my omega and I can do whatever I want with you, so–”

“Hey, Steve! Great weather, huh?”

Jake Jensen swims up to Steve, a comically wide grin on his face. He’s got a thick layer of white sunscreen all over his face, with an especially thick blot on the tip of his nose. And yet, he’s still sunburnt and slightly pink to match the shade of his salmon-coloured swimming trunks. His eyes squint as he smiles at Steve – either because of the sun or because he’s not wearing his glasses.

Steve rolls his eyes, getting in front of you to block you from Jake’s view.

“Jensen, who the fuck invited you?”

“Uh, Ransom did? He invited the whole football team! This sure is a swell pool, huh, Steve? I’ve got one too – well, my parents do. But it’s not as big as this one.”

“I’m sure it isn’t.” Steve says drily, “Hey! Eyes on me, Jensen. Don’t even think about looking at her.”

“I wasn’t–”

“I know your angle, you fucking creep. Swimming over here and trying to act all casual so you can get a close up look at my girlfriend in her bikini.”

Jake blinks, his eyes zeroing in on you peaking over Steve’s shoulder. “I didn’t even notice her, actually, but–”

“Are you insulting my girlfriend now, Jensen? Are you fucking insinuating that she’s not noticeable?!”

“What? No–”

“Shut up, you fucking idiot. And get away from us. In fact, get out of the whole pool.” Steve points to the far corner of the backyard, where a jacuzzi bubbles away on its lonesome. “Go sit in there, Jensen. I’m banning your creepy ass from this pool. Now go before I kick you off the football team.”

You watch as Jake hurriedly swims away, a look of dismay on his face. “Steve, you shouldn’t be so mean to him– Hey!”

You yelp as your alpha’s muscular arms encircle around you, pulling you into the pool with a gentle splash. Your arms automatically go around his neck, and your legs – unable to reach the floor of the pool – instinctively wrap around his waist until you’re clinging to him like a koala.

“There. Now none of these creeps can stare at your body.” Steve’s hand slips down to squeeze your ass underwater and you jump in surprise, inadvertently rubbing your front against his crotch. His eyes darken and he clutches you closer, till you can feel his hard dick through his trunks rub against your mound which is barely concealed by your bikini. You fight yourself in order not to moan, shooting Steve a pleading look only to find that his eyes are too busy staring at your cleavage, which is ample and wet and pressed up against his chest.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, omega.” Steve says, leaning forward to kiss you roughly. He bites at your bottom lip, almost drawing blood as his hands continue to fondle you. You feel your walls clench but you have to remind yourself that you’re in a pool with a bunch of other people. Meanwhile, underwater, Steve’s hand slips under your bikini bottoms, cupping your bare ass cheek and jiggling it lewdly.

“Fuck, why’d you have to wear such a tiny, slutty bikini, huh?” Steve whispers, licking the shell of your ear sensually and sending thrills up and down your spine. “You think you can look this sexy and cute and I won’t fuck you in the middle of this pool right now?”

“B-But, Steve! You chose this bikini!”

“Don’t lie, baby omega.” He pinches your ass again before his fingers tug threateningly at the flimsy string holding your bikini bottoms to your body. “Now everyone’s staring at your hot, tight little body because they all want to fuck you. But they can’t, because that’s my job.”

“Please don’t take my bikini off!” You plead softly, as he continues to play with the strings of your bikini-bottoms. You try to swim away from him, but he holds on tightly to you, shooting you a warning look before his eyes grow distracted by your breasts again, and his hands cup them both.

“Who told you to tease me like this, huh?” He kisses up your neck, squeezing and fondling your breasts like an animal pawing at his prey, “Who told you to wear such a tight, sexy bikini and push your tits up so they look all sexy? God, you’re killing me, baby. And I know you’re doing it on purpose, just like you always do.”

You know Steve well enough at this point to realise that when he’s riled up and horny, he tends to accuse you of baseless things like leading him on purposely. But all you’re trying to do at this very moment is make sure he doesn’t slip his dick inside you at this pool party in front of everyone. Because Steve could really be a menace when he wanted to, and his libido knew no bounds. He would definitely fuck you in front of an audience, no questions asked. In fact, he’d happily do it.

“Who’s that?” You blurt out in a desperate bid to distract him. You look toward the gates where Ransom is greeting a pretty brunette girl who you’ve never seen before. Steve follows your gaze and snorts.

“That’s Marta, Ransom’s new girlfriend.”

“Oh. She’s very pretty.” You comment, taking note of how Ransom looks genuinely happy to see her. He picks her up and swings her around, and she laughs and bats him with her purse before they kiss.

“She’s a gold-digging slut.” Steve says darkly.

“What?”

“You heard me. She has a reputation for being the biggest gold-digger in New York and everyone knows it.” Steve holds you close, as if physically shielding you from getting influenced by Marta, who isn’t even looking at either of you. “Instead of getting a degree like the rest of us, she’s been steadily seducing half the male population in the city, and getting them to buy her whatever she wants.”

“But I thought you preferred it when omegas didn’t get degrees?”

You don’t know where the quip comes from, but you regret it as soon as the words leave your mouth. Steve shoots you a warning look and you quickly bow your head submissively, “I’m sorry.”

“You better be. One more slip-up like that and I’ll spank you in front of everyone,” Steve threatens before continuing, “Omegas have no business getting degrees, but they also have no business acting like gold-digging sluts. Anyways, all of us tried to warn Ransom but he’s a fucking idiot, clearly.”

You look towards the couple once again; Ransom is making Marta a personalised snow-cone, drawing a sloppily-drawn heart out of strawberry syrup on top of the shaved ice. Marta claps excitedly, giving Ransom a kiss on the cheek. They look pretty happy and genuine to you, but Steve probably knows better?

You mull over all this new information, “B-But Steve, you buy me tons of expensive stuff all the time. Do people think I’m a gold-digger?”

Steve presses a bunch of kisses on your neck, holding you tightly against him as if he’s afraid you’ll float away. “No, baby. No one would dare make that assumption about you, because I would kill them. And anyways, you’re too cute and innocent and humble to be a gold-digger. Not like Marta, who is a whore.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Steve, please don’t say that…”

“She is, though. She made Ransom buy her a Birkin bag when he’d only known her two weeks.”

You’re wondering why Steve seems so incensed over a simple bag when suddenly–

“You sure do love to gossip, don’t you, Steve?”

Natasha walks over to the corner of the swimming pool where you and Steve are. She’s wrapped a silky black sarong around her hips, and it looks good with her deep red bikini.

“And you sure do love to eavesdrop, don’t you?” Steve fires back, his grip on you tightening possessively.

Natasha rolls her eyes and looks from Steve to you, “Don’t listen to Steve. Marta’s a great girl, we used to go to the same yoga class a few years ago.”

“Of course, you think she’s great.” Steve remarks, sneering at Nat as if she’s a disease, but the redhead remains unperturbed, shooting him a sweet smile before looking back to you.

“Let’s hang out soon. I can fill you in on all the real gossip, and –”

“She doesn’t want to hang out with you.” Steve answers on your behalf. You wince, because it’s not true at all! You’d love to hang out with Natasha, and she’s always inviting you out, either to shop or grab brunch. But Steve never gives you permission to go, because he claims Natasha is a bad influence. You wish you were brave enough to stand up to Steve but you’re not, so instead you just shoot Natasha an apologetic look, and the redhead smiles understandingly back at you.

“Steve! Come on, we’re playing volleyball and you’re on my team!” Sam calls out from the other side of the pool.

Steve makes a face before shouting back, “I’m busy with my girlfriend!”

“She can play too.” Bucky walks up with the volleyball under his arm, “She can be on my team, we could use an extra player since we got stuck with Jensen.” He gives you a meaningful stare, his cold blue eyes raking you up and down, making you shrink back into Steve. But the brunette alpha smoothly looks away as soon as Steve glances at him.

“Haha, very funny. Omegas don’t play sports.” Steve gives you a kiss on the cheek and a condescending pat on your bum which you’re happy is underwater so no one sees. His lips brush against your ear, “I’m gonna go play for a while, okay, baby?”

You nod, “That’s alright, Steve. I’ll just stay here.”

Steve looks at you, then at Natasha, then back at you before narrowing his eyes, “Don’t talk to her. Just watch me play, okay?”

“Okay.” You cross your fingers behind your back, hoping he won’t see.

He kisses you some more, claiming it’s a good luck kiss but it quickly turns into a good luck make-out before Bucky drags him away.

You climb out of the pool, regretting it instantly because you feel all wet and exposed. But Natasha hands you a big, fluffy towel, and you gratefully wrap it around yourself before she tugs you over to a couple of deck chairs.

“Steve is so bossy,” Natasha giggles, and you follow her gaze to the other side of the pool. There’s a net set up and Steve is already busy explaining strategies to his team members, before telling them exactly where to stand and what to do.

“Yeah.” You agree softly.

“I bet the only one he really listens to is you, am I right?”

Your eyes widen, “Oh no, Steve doesn’t really… I, uh, I could never tell him what to do.”

Natasha stretches and lays down on her deck chair, “I mean, I tell Thor to load the dishwasher or empty the drier, that kind of stuff.”

You look down to your lap, “Oh, well, Steve says that household chores are an omega’s job.” You pause, your eyes focused on Steve as he slams the volleyball straight at Jensen’s face. Jensen yelps, his glasses flying into the water as Steve laughs and high-fives Sam. You suddenly grow paranoid, wondering if your words will somehow get back to him. “I don’t mind doing the household chores at all, though! Actually, I find it very relaxing.” (This isn’t even a lie).

Natasha nods thoughtfully, “Yeah, I don’t mind it either. But you could definitely get Steve to help you out.”

You smile, not saying anything. You certainly doubted you could make Steve do anything.

The redhead sits up straight, “I’m serious, though! Next time you’re unloading the dishwasher, just be like ‘Oh no, these dishes…they’re so heavy!’ Trust me, watch how he’ll make you sit down and do it all himself. Alphas eat the whole ‘damsel in distress’ thing right up.”

You mull over it; maybe that would work… Steve never ever let you do any heavy-lifting around the house. You weren’t even allowed to take the trash out, and sometimes he’d even take the laundry basket out of your hands if it looked too heavy. “Baby omegas like you shouldn’t be lifting heavy things,” he’d always say.

Relaxing and sitting back, all warm in your fluffy towel, you listen as Natasha gives you more relationship advice. She tells you all the “little things” you can do to control your alpha, like dress up in sexy lingerie and withhold sex until he agrees to your demands. Or keep him on his toes by not answering his texts immediately, and ignoring him so that it drove him crazy. You knew most of these ideas would never work with Steve, but it was nice to listen to her speak anyways, plus it also gave you an interesting insight on her relationship with Thor.

Steve’s team wins the volleyball match, and he comes back to you with a smug smile on his face. Swooping you up in his arms and giving you the biggest kiss ever, till your cheeks are hot and your heart is racing.

“Did you see me?” He asks, kissing you all over your face as if Natasha isn’t a foot away from you two, “Did you see how I scored that last point?”

“Yes,” you lie, because you had dozed off for the past few minutes under the deliciously warm sun and the fluffiness of your towel, “You were really good!”

“Damn right. And did you see how bad Jensen was?”

Steve gives you a detailed play-by-play of the whole game, whilst also simultaneously carrying you off to the hot-tub in the corner of the yard. Natasha waves you goodbye before skipping over to Thor, and you watch her bat him on the shoulder before he throws her into the pool, jumping in after her.

“…and then Bucky rage quit because his team was so shit, and I think he actually left and drove home.” Steve shakes his head, “Classic Bucky. He can’t ever take a loss.”

He gently places you into the hot tub, and you sigh as you sink into the hot, steamy, bubbling water. It’s deep, almost up to your neck when you sit down. But Steve has other plans, hastily pulling you into his lap once he’s settled down as well. In fact, he places you right on top of his hard bulge, which is definitely noticeable underneath his trunks.

“So, is my baby omega gonna give me a reward for winning?” He pinches your ass, a mischievous glint in his eye. His hands settle on your hips, grinding you down against his bulge and smirking when you yelp and grab onto his chest and shoulders.

“Not here!” You gasp, earning another pinch to your ass.

“Really? Is that why you keep grinding your cute little butt on my dick?”

“I’m not!”

“Don’t lie to me, omega.” Steve draws you closer with his big hand on the back of your neck, kissing you roughly, his hands fondling every part of your body. He keeps one hand squarely on your ass, his fingers digging between your ass cheeks and prodding at your puckered hole through the thin material of your bikini. You gasp straight into his mouth, and he just smirks against your lips, not allowing you to break the kiss as his other hand slips up to squeeze your breast. His thumb brushes against your hard nipple, and he tries to pull your bikini top off before you manage to fend him away.

“Not here, Steve, please!” You beg, not knowing how far he’d go. His eyes are almost black with lust, as if he’s horny off of winning the volleyball game and impressing you. And a part of you knew this would happen, that this was inevitable the moment he made you put on this extra revealing bikini in the first place. But you’d hoped he’d have at least dragged you off somewhere private, instead of the hot-tub which was out in the open with everyone still milling around.

“Address me properly, baby omega.” Steve whispers in your ear, his tone dripping with lust. “And you shouldn’t have put on this slutty bikini if you didn’t want me to fuck you in front of everyone. All these guys have been staring at you all day. Now I have to show them all how I own you.”

His fingers play with the string that’s holding your bikini top together, his other hand now tracing shapes on the exposed skin of your butt cheek. He gives it a jiggle, smirking when you clutch him harder, your hands wrapping around his neck in an effort to calm yourself down.

“I think you should take your bikini off. Daddy wants to see your tits.”

You shake your head pleadingly, “No, Steve – I mean daddy – please, I can’t do that!”

He doesn’t even blink, his eyes focused on your cleavage which is practically spilling out of the bikini. He licks his lips, a carnality suddenly taking over his being and he grabs the flimsy cups of your bikini and pulls them downwards, exposing your breasts. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth latches on to one of your nipples, his other hand covering your other breast by squeezing it.

You bite your lip to contain your moan, but Steve moans freely around your nipple as he suckles it. His tongue licks sensually around your hardened peak, making you jolt in his lap. He holds you down firmly, digging his boner up between your ass. He sucks your nipple as if he’s starving, biting at it as if he wants to make you scream, but you stop yourself just in time.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby.” Steve tells you, “I almost lost concentration a few times during that volleyball game. All I could think about was you looking all cute and sexy, wearing this slutty bikini as if you were begging me to fuck you.”

“Daddy – ah! – can we do this at home please?” You ask, because now you can feel yourself getting turned on. Despite your embarrassment and discomfort, you can feel your pussy clench at his degrading dirty talk.

“No. And stop telling me to stop or else I’ll fuck you on that deck chair, right in the middle of everyone.” He stops suckling on your nipple for a second, pinching it instead as he looks at you thoughtfully, “Actually, no. Keep telling me to stop because I like it when you do that. Reminds me how weak and babyish you are.” He licks a stripe up the side of your face before kissing your cheek sloppily, “Beg me again, say: ‘daddy, please stop.’”

“Daddy, please stop!” You moan pitifully, your brain wanting him to stop but your body not quite agreeing as you feel your hips involuntarily jut against him. And you’re just about to lose control, just about to give in to him because he feels so good and he smells so enticing and he’s your daddy so he’s in charge and the omega inside you is purring and wanting to do exactly what he orders you to, and then–

“Mind if we join you guys?”

Ransom plops into the hot tub, with Marta hot on his heels. Your eyes widen, and Steve huffs in annoyance before pushing your bikini back up to cover your breasts. The tub is bigger than most, and big enough that Ransom and Marta are able to sit a few feet away from you and Steve. They’re too busy talking to notice anything, but Steve double-knots your bikini strings just in case, glaring daggers at the couple sitting across from you.

You try to slip off Steve’s lap after that, but he holds you in place and shoots you a warning look. So you sit there, your back against Steve’s chest and his hard dick poking angrily against your butt.

“I was just telling Marta how similar you and I are, Steve.” Ransom pipes up.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Steve asks sardonically. You can tell he’s pissed off at being interrupted, which is never a good sign. You remember once he was about to fuck you in the locker room before the coach had called him. Steve had been seething, and with all that pent-up sexual frustration, you knew you were in for it once he was done. Right now was no different.

Ransom sits back, his arm around Marta who sips coolly on a frozen strawberry daquiri. You hadn’t really paid attention to it, but there was also an open bar in the corner of the backyard, with the alphas taking turns making drinks. Thankfully, Steve hadn’t drank tonight – otherwise he’d have been ten times hornier than he was now.

“We’re both wifed up and in serious relationships.” Ransom draws Marta close, and she nuzzles her nose against his neck. “And you know what? Now I get what all the hype is about. Marta and I have been talking about marking each other up too, and –”

Ransom drones on and on, and you nod politely. Steve, on the other hand, stiffens underneath you. You can tell he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. What you didn’t count on is his dick driving up into you at that exact moment. You almost gasp out loud before covering it up by pretending to clear your throat. His hands rub up and down your thighs, and you’re so happy this is all happening under the water otherwise you’d never be able to live it down.

Marta excuses herself to get another drink, Ransom’s eyes following her as she leaves, a lovesick look on his face.

“Bro, you’re pathetic.” Steve sneers, and all the while his hands are slipping up till he cups your core through your bikini bottoms, making your breath hitch. “You’ve only been seeing her for two weeks.”

“So?”

“So, you need to chill the fuck out.”

Steve pushes your bikini bottoms to the side, exposing your bare core to the hot water. Fuck. His thick fingers probe and explore your slick folds, and you cannot believe what he’s doing because Ransom is only a few feet away from you guys. And Steve’s casually giving out advice as if he isn’t about to finger you under the water this very second!

Ransom sighs, “I know, but she isn’t just some random hookup, okay? I actually have feelings for her.”

You’re barely able to focus on the two alphas’ conversation, your face and neck heating up as you squirm on Steve’s lap. A part of you feels so degraded, sitting on your alpha’s lap as if you’re nothing more than a decorative toy for him to play with while he talks to his friend. It’s what he’s doing right now, his pointer finger circling your clit casually while he holds you close in his lap.

“If you want to be the dumbass who gets played by an omega, then suit yourself, bro.” Steve shrugs, focusing his attention back on you. Ransom looks torn, and you secretly hope he doesn’t take Steve’s advice too seriously. You don’t know much about gold-diggers or relationships in general, but Ransom and Marta look genuine from what you’ve seen. Not that you have time to dwell over their situation, because Steve chooses that exact moment to slip two fingers inside you.

“Oh, oh fu-” You cry out.

Ransom frowns, “You okay?”

“Don’t talk to my girl!” Steve warns.

“Ex-Excuse me.” You squeak, managing to get up off of Steve’s lap while he’s momentarily distracted. You step out of the hot tub before he can stop you, quickly wrapping yourself in your fluffy towel. “Bathroom.” You explain, before speed-walking over to the pool-house, inwardly praying you don’t slip and embarrass yourself in your hasty exit.

Heart drumming, you safely make it to the pool house and make a beeline for the bathroom. You’ve only just managed to catch your breath when the door opens and closes behind you. You barely have time to register what’s happening before Steve pushes you forward, bending you over the marble sink and giving you four hard slaps to the ass in quick succession.

“Bad girl.” Steve tuts, “What got into you, huh? Running away from daddy like that?”

“I’m sorry, I just… Steve it would’ve been so inappropriate to do that in front of everyone!”

“What’s inappropriate is slutty baby omegas like you wearing sexy bikinis to distract me. You forced my hand, baby.” He swiftly rips your bikini bottoms apart, squeezing your ass cheeks with both his hands, till you know his handprints will be imprinted on your skin. “Well, we’re all alone now, omega. There’s nowhere for you to run.”

He presses his hard dick against your wet folds, and you sigh involuntarily, rutting back against him. In the privacy of this bathroom, you can finally relax.

“I’m gonna fuck you on every inch of every surface inside this bathroom,” Steve promises darkly in your ear, sucking and biting at your earlobe before pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, “and then I’m gonna drag you outside and fuck you against the glass doors of this pool house. You got that, omega?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

THE END. I know i know i know that ended super abruptly, but trust me when i tell you i could’ve gone on and on and ON and this was just meant to be a small drabble!!! PLEASE tell me what you think and reblog pls!!! ily ily ily and this was really random and idek if it’s any good but please just let me know what you think! ALSO YES, steve is such a menace in this and idk if this is canon compliant but it’s a poyt drabble so here we goooo!!! LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OK BYE

#poyt #poyt drabble #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans

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samwisethewitch · 5 months

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What Non-Pagans Need to Know About Fiction Featuring Pagan Gods

In light of Marvel's Loki show dropping a second season and a new Percy Jackson series on the horizon, I want to say some things about how fandom spaces can be respectful of real-life pagan religion.

Let's get one thing out of the way: literally no one is saying you can't enjoy fiction that uses pagan gods and heroes as characters. No one is saying, "Stop writing stories about our gods." In fact, many ancient cultures wrote fiction about their gods -- look at Greek theater or the Norse Eddas. The act of writing fiction about the gods is not offensive in itself.

But please remember that this is someone's religion.

The gods are not "just archetypes." Their myths are not "just stories." Their personalities are not a matter of artistic interpretation. For many pagans, the gods are very much real in a literal sense. I don't think Thor is a metaphor or a symbol -- for me, Thor is a real, autonomous spiritual being who exists outside of human perceptions of him, and who I have chosen to build a relationship with. Even if you are a hardcore atheist, I would hope you could at least be respectful of the fact that, to many modern pagans, the gods are both very real and very important.

When authors are not respectful of this fact, they reduce the gods, these very real objects of worship, to fictional characters. And here's the thing about fictional characters: they are fundamentally tools for authors to use to draw a desired emotional response from an audience.

Dracula's personality and behavior is wildly different depending on who is writing him, because different authors use Dracula to create different reactions in their audiences. In the 1931 film starring Bela Lugosi, he's equal parts alluring and disturbing, a symbol of America's mixed desire and disdain for foreigners. In Nosferatu, he's more strictly frightening and disgusting. In Francis Ford Coppola's movie, he's a tragic, romantic figure clinging to the last scraps of his humanity. In Netflix's Castlevania, he's an incredibly powerful being who has grown bitter and apathetic in his immortality. All of this is Dracula, and all of it is fine, because Dracula is not and never has been a central figure in anyone's religion.

Let's take a look at what happens when authors give this same treatment to real gods:

In Hellenic polytheism, Apollo is one of the most beloved gods, both historically and today. Apollo loves humanity, and humanity loves him back. He is the god of sunlight and of medicine, but also of poetry and song. He is one of humanity's most consistent defenders when one of the other gods gets wrathful. And while he does have dangerous or wrathful aspects of his own (he's also the god of disease, after all), he's also kind and soft with humanity in a way other gods often aren't, at least in some historic sources.

In the Lore Olympus comic series, Apollo is a villain. He's characterized as an abuser, a manipulator, and a violent man child. LO!Apollo is downright hateful, because the author wants us to hate him. Lore Olympus is a retelling of a myth about an abduction and forced marriage. Lore Olympus is also a romance. In order to get the audience to sympathize with Hades and root for his relationship with Persephone, Rachel Smythe needed to make someone else the villain. Apollo is the most obvious and extreme character assassination in Smythe's work, but several other gods (notably Demeter) also get the asshole makeover to tell the story Smythe wants to tell.

Here's where this becomes a problem: Hellenic polytheism is a fairly small religious community, while Lore Olympus is a massively popular webtoon with 1.3 billion views as of August 2023, print books available from major retailers, a TV adaptation in the works, and a very active online fandom. Rachel Smythe currently has a MUCH bigger platform than any Hellenic polytheism practitioner. Smythe and other authors are shaping how modern culture views the Hellenic gods, and that has a very real impact on their worshipers.

This means "Apollo is an abusive asshole" is becoming a popular take online, and is even creeping into pagan communities. I've personally seen people be harassed for worshiping Apollo because of it. I've seen new pagans and pagan-curious folks who totally misunderstand the roles Apollo, Hades, and Persephone play in the Hellenic pantheon because of Lore Olympus and other modern works of fiction.

There are tons of other examples of this in modern pop culture, but I'll just rattle off a few of the ones that annoy me most: Rick Riordan depicting Ares/Mars as a brutish asshole hyped up on toxic masculinity; Rick Riordan depicting Athena as a mother goddess; Marvel depicting Thor as a dumb jock; Marvel depicting Odin as a cold, uncaring father; DC depicting Ares as purely evil; whatever the fuck the Vikings TV show was trying to do with seidr; the list goes on.

All of these are examples of religious appropriation. Religious appropriation is when sacred symbols are taken out of their original religious context by outsiders, so that the original meaning is lost or changed. It requires a power imbalance -- the person taking the symbols is usually part of a dominant religious culture. In many cases, the person doing the appropriation has a much bigger platform than anyone who has the knowledge to correct them.

When Rick Rioridan or Rachel Smythe totally mischaracterizes a Greek god to tell a story, and then actual Hellenic pagans get harassed for worshiping that god, that's religious appropriation.

Religious appropriation is a real issue. This isn't just pagans being sensitive. To use an extreme example: Richard Wagner and other German Romantic authors in the 19th century used the Norse gods and other Germanic deities as symbols in their work, which was a major influence on Nazi philosophy. Without Wagner, the Nazis would not have latched onto the Norse gods as symbols of their white supremacist agenda. To this day, there are white supremacist groups who claim to worship our gods or who use our religious imagery in their hate movement. We are still reckoning with the misinterpretation of our gods popularized by Wagner and other German Romantics almost 200 years ago.

Again, no one is saying you can't enjoy fiction based on pagan mythology. But there are a few things you can do to help prevent religious appropriation in fandom spaces:

Above all else, be mindful that while this may just be a story to you, it is someone's religion.

Recognize that enjoying fiction based on our gods does not mean you know our gods. You know fictional characters with the same names as our gods, who may or may not be accurate to real-life worship.

Do not argue with or try to correct pagans when we talk about our experience of our gods.

Don't invalidate or belittle pagan worship. Again, this mostly comes down to recognizing that our religion is totally separate from your fandom. We aren't LARPing or playing pretend. Our sacred traditions are real and valid.

If you see other people in your fandom engaging in religious appropriation, point out what they are doing and why it isn't okay.

Please tag your fandom content appropriately on social media. Always tag the show, movie, book, etc. that a post is about in addition to other relevant tags. This allows pagans to block these fandom tags if we don't want to see them and prevents fandom content showing up in religious tags.

For example, if I'm posting about Athena from the Percy Jackson books, I would tag the post #athena #athenapjo #percyjackson #pjo. You get the idea.

And if fiction sparks your interest and you want to learn more about the actual worship of the gods, you can always ask! Most pagans love talking about our gods and trading book recs.

If you are writing fiction based on real mythology, talk to people who worship those gods. Ask them what a respectful portrayal would look like. If possible, include a note in your finished work reminding audiences that it is a work of fiction and not meant to accurately portray these gods.

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anika-ann · 7 months

Text

Seven Minutes (S.R.)

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 8700

Summary: You’re not obliged to go to that party, but you go because it’s a rare occasion during which most of your fellow Avengers meet and have some fun together. Until someone suggests a stupid teenage game. Until you and Steve end up locked in a closet together and things take a turn you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

Maybe you should have. Whenever Tony or – god forbid – Loki gets involved, it’s bound to end up in a disaster. Only this time, the victim of the shenanigans might be your heart.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 1: Seven Minutes in Hell

“I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out.” ― Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived. Banner, drunk on Asgardian liquor, let out a sensible chuckle at the words and fell asleep as he was, sprawled over one of the couches in the communal area, which looked more like a war zone than an aftermath of a giant party.

It wasn’t the mess of empty bottles and glasses and cushions having been thrown around at some point. It was the skeletons. The fake blood. The few smashed pumpkins, literally beaten to a pulp. Luckily, the one single torn-off arm which some idiot had smuggled in despite the strict ban on those, based on the fact that at least half of the guests suffered some form of a PTSD, had been kicked under the bar and covered by a cloth as soon as you had found it. Tony, despite already finding himself in a drunken haze, agreed to kick the asshole who had brought it out. Steve had shot you a grateful look when you had asked Tony to do so. Bucky – thankfully – never learned about the tasteless joke ever taking place.

Unlike the space, the Avengers had an aura of comfort around them. Lying around, some chatting sleepily, chuckling every now and then, some talking animatedly with a few friendly nudges under the ribs, they lounged in the area and welcomed the 1 a.m. announcement by Friday with relative grace.

Except for Tony, who booed and proceeded to glare at every single conscious Avenger present, one by one; Natasha and Clint comfortable on one couch, Steve and you on the other, Thor filling out a huge armchair, Rhodey looking a bit small in the other in comparison, Wanda practically lying in a lounge pug with Vision hovering by her like a guard, Helen and Maria crossed legged on tiny tabourets, Sam and Bucky, having been fighting each for their space on the couch, now sitting carelessly with Bucky’s feet against Sam’s thigh. And then there was Loki, spinning slowly in his egg chair he had charmed up and kept up in the air with his magic, Pepper having reluctantly sat down in the other which Loki had graciously made for her with a snap of his fingers.

“Seriously, guys! Just… boooo! This party is dying! We need to shake things up!” he called out theatrically, standing in the middle of the Sleepy Hollow with judgement written all over his face. Then, he lowered his voice, a wicked smile twisting his lips. “Do you wanna play a game? I do.”

At least four distinct snorts sounded around the group at his poor impression.

“Really, Tones?” Natasha questioned, probably referring to both his acting skills and the suggestion.

“I do want to play a game. It’s called let’s go to bed,” Bucky groaned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his feet back to the ground, startling Sam in the process.

“The night is still young, Barnes,” Clint huffed despite his eyelids barely staying open as he kept twisting a rubber imitation of femur between his fingers. “You sound like an old man.”

“Oh? That coming from you really says something,” Sam pointed out, a good-natured smile curling his lips; at the same time, Tony hummed: “Or a kinky one.”

“I must say I agree with Stark this once,” Thor boomed, nodding thoughtfully as several voices groaned at the gleeful grin lighting Tony’s face. “There seems to be a lull to these revels and it is indeed too soon to retire to bed. The sun has not even risen yet!”

A single clap of hands and Tony was gesturing towards Thor. “See! The Asgardian agrees with me. I must be right.”

“I bet he’s already regretting his words,” Steve noted, drawing a small chuckle from you.

In all honesty, you would be inclined to agree with Bucky on this one. Going to bed sounded heavenly, but there was one huge disadvantage to bed compared to the Sleeping Beauty Castle the Halloween party had turned into: the company wasn’t nearly as good. You weren’t greedy – you wouldn’t need all the Avengers present to come cuddle you in bed. Just one would do. The one whose thigh occasionally brushed yours as you talked about anything and everything, all kind smiles and a slightly tipsy spark in his gorgeous blue eyes which were complimented by the treacherous midnight shade of his one-size-too-small shirt.

“Now, now, Captain. The other Asgardian agrees too,” Loki’s voice slowly sneaked in, something in his tone causing your heart to skip a startled and yet excited beat.

Loki was… a friend. After trying hard for redemption, he had begun to join the Avengers business on occasion, his magic always proving to be of enormous help. His humour was a little wicked and twisted, but his heart was not nearly as dark as people had believed – or even he himself had. You sensed Steve’s wariness towards him still and understood his reasons; and secretly, you revelled in the worry Steve expressed whenever you spent time with Loki, which the golden-hearted captain feared you did so with a little too much trust.

The only reason why you wouldn’t throw it back to Steve’s face that he was questioning your judgement was the fact he had admitted he did actually not do that, ever – but simply cared for your safety – and that fact that he attempted to be as respectful about it as possible. That and the heartwarming knowledge that he thought of you, one way or the other. Maybe him being the person who was giving out the gentlest hugs could have played a role as well. Or perhaps even that you had – like a silly, silly girl – fallen for him long time ago and would let him not only get away with murder at this point, but probably also ask him if he needed any help to hide the body. Because you’d either believe him it was for a good reason that he had committed the crime, his moral compass just about perfect, or simply because he deserved the most loyal friends and loved ones he could get.

The sudden heavy thud snapped you back to present, causing you to jump in your seat. Steve’s warm hand covered yours in an instant, gaze trailing to you to make sure you were alright. As he gently squeezed your hand, you glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile.

He let go as soon as your gaze returned to the source of the noise: a large closet now standing a few feet from the seating area.

“How about this?” Loki suggested, calmly beckoning to the piece of furniture having just appeared out of this air.

“Do you… want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Wanda, suddenly wide awake at the stronger present of magic, questioned.

“Why not? I was under the impression Midgardians enjoyed this game during a party.”

“What are we, thirteen?” Sam asked, eyebrows creased sceptically.

“…going on thirty? Good movie,” Clint hummed, his grin showing pride at his reference.

“Ew, no-“

“Do you even know what Seven Minutes in Heaven is about?” Natasha asked, her expression intrigued; you had no doubt her mind had already begun to race as she tried to decipher the trickster’s motivations.

“Yes. I am quite pleased by the concept. If we play, perhaps I will be lucky enough to spend some private time with lovely Lady Speedy.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your gaze found Loki’s, a provocative smirk twisting his mouth. Interesting. Maybe even intriguing. Except it was not; at least not for the reason one might think. Loki was not at all interested in you. If he had, you would have known without a shadow of doubt. He wasn’t one for subtlety; if he had had an eye on someone, he would make sure to court them, persistently so. Or perhaps he would simply take.

No, Loki had not spent time thinking of you, much like you hadn’t spent time thinking about him.

There was only one Avenger whose company and love you longed for and had for the longest time – and you wouldn’t be surprised if Loki knew. What you hoped he had no idea about was the fact that you could have had it, once.

You could have had Steve, but you had mucked it up, too shocked to yes when he had asked. It had felt too fast, too surreal to be even happening – Steve Rogers asking you out for a cup of coffee – too good to be true.

Naturally, in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he had been too polite to disrespect your decision or let it negatively impact your blooming friendship back then; he had not made a single attempt to ask you out again since. In return, you had been too embarrassed to explain yourself – to explain that you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, if not in the universe, that you would have jumped at the chance if he as much as hinted he was still interested – and in a very mature way, you never mentioned it again.

That was fine. You and Steve had become friends. Perhaps even good enough friends to mention it as an awkward memory; and only that, because you doubted that he was still carrying a torch for you. He had even briefly dated with Sharon Carter after the incident; he clearly moved on, because there was nothing to move on from. You had barely known each other back then. It wasn’t like you broke his heart or something. You just decided mess up what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Instead, you had a comfortable caring friendship. That counted as a win, yes?

And if you ended up in a closet with him for seven minutes now, you would, once again, acted like mature adults and… hug or something, yes? You would not give in into some stupid game and kiss him just because you’d have an excuse to do so. You would not be tempted to--- no. You respected Steve too much for that. You would never make anything to make him uncomfortable; if you had, you would not only not deserve to call yourself his friend, but even a decent human being.

And you were not thirteen anymore. You knew better. The awkwardness would not be worth it; the rejection would not be worth it. Losing the gift of Steve’s friendship would most definitely not be worth a few seconds of Heaven, of testing whether his lips were be as soft and gentle as you thought, if they tasted like you dreamed of. Knowing whether he would respond, whether he would kiss you, whether maybe, just maybe, there could be the faintest traces of seeing you differently than a friend and colleague.

No, the stakes were be too high.

“Hm… I think we should play,” Natasha said, earning at least five shocked stares, including yours.

“What?!”

“We should definitely not,” Steve protested, leaning forward with a very displeased frown, his eyes burning as he glared murderously at Natasha for entertaining the trickster’s whim.

“I mean… why not, after all? Two people in a closet, in cramped space? What is not to enjoy?” Bucky added, clearly changing his mind about going to bed. He was next at the receiving end of Steve’s disapproval.

“Ask a claustrophobic, I’m sure they’d come up with a reason or two,” you hummed, earning a sardonic ha ha from the dark-haired supersoldier.

“I mean… who knows. Could be magical,” Tony wiggles eyebrows.

“Are we back to 13 going to 30?”

Wanda, Pepper, Maria and Sam said NO with impressive coordination.

“I must say I am intrigued as I cannot quite see the appeal. It would be an enriching experience for me to understand. What is the worst that can happen?” Vision questioned.

“You did not just ask that,” Sam complained.

“Please tell me it’s just a closet and not some sort of a portal to Narnia?” Pepper chimed in, Loki’s smile surprisingly pleasant as he turned to her.

“It is simply a closet, my dear Lady Potts.”

“I don’t know, you guys, it still sounds like a pretty bad idea,” you chuckled nervously as you felt the air shift towards agreement to participate in this ridiculous game.

“Seconded,” Steve grunted by your side – but it was too late.

“Too bad, I’m getting an empty bottle,” Tony blurted out as he practically sprang after the nearest bottle indeed.

It was the perfect opportunity to walk away; it was the last chance to get out.

You didn’t.

Perhaps you didn’t want to look like a coward. Maybe you didn’t want to be a party pooper. You guessed you hoped they would scrape the idea after one round, because they would realize the game was lame and boring. Maybe, just maybe, a little part of you wondered if something interesting would come out of it – and you didn’t want to miss it.

Those were the things running through your head when you walked side by side with Steve, cursing the universe or some sort of physics cheat Tony had pulled or maybe Loki’s magic. Because of course it happened. Of course, the bottle pointed at you – and then on Steve.

Could have been worse, you reasoned with yourself. Could have been… yeah you didn’t know who. Bruce who might turn in to the Hulk while in there was asleep, so he never was an option.But it was too late to back out now.

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you walk in first, offering a hand, a gentle smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at your friends being children. You squeezed his hand and smiled back, grateful – and calm.

Yes, being with Steve in such tight space with the knowledge what the game was about sent a few tempting thoughts into your head – but you’d be fine. You’d just chat, privately; you had done that countless times before, late night talks and maybe even your head resting on his shoulder when you got too sleepy to sit straight. You’d be fine.

Steve climbed up after you so you stood face to face, flashing you one last comforting smile. And then Tony closed the door behind you, leaving you in utter darkness.

Your first thought was that the inside of the closet was a lot smaller than it had appeared from the outside.

Your second thought was that perhaps that was not the fault of the closet or your eyes; the sheer width of Steve’s shoulders and other proportions of his body which had starred in too many of your dirty dreams and innocent fantasies alike were to blame instead.

Your third thought was that the air was becoming a little too hot and heavy to breathe a little too fast and that you weren’t certain you could last seven full minutes in this space where it felt you might as well already be wrapped in Steve’s arms. The subtle tones of his woodsy cologne, the heat radiating off his skin, the faintest light peeking through the door reflecting in his slightly ruffled hair and in his eyes, caressing his features the very way you always wished.

Your fourth thought was, incidentally, less of a thought and more of an emotion – a red hot one at that. The flash of anger that ripped through you honestly took you by surprise, and hit you too hard to be ignored.

Because this was stupid.

This game was the stupidest thing possible that your friends could come up with. Steve was entirely stupid with his brilliance and courage and care and morality and outrageous handsomeness and most of all with giving you hope once that you could be good enough for him, that there was a glitch in the universe large enough that would somehow made the two of a potential couple. And you, oh you. You were the most stupidest of it all. To allow yourself to hope as well. To not let go of that fleeting seconds when the light of Steve Rogers was in your reach and you stood there like a dumbass without grabbing it, never speaking of it again then and yet still carrying a torch for him for two idiotic years.

Maybe if one of those things had been different – most likely of all, you – you could have been making out now. Maybe, you would feel his gentle touch in these shadows; or maybe hungry touch even. Maybe, because your friends were nosy assholes and drama queens, they would have banned you from participating in this in fear that they would have to disinfect the closet after you got full seven minutes in here.

Instead, all you had was a tentative brush of Steve’s hand to your elbow and the kind rumble of his voice, laced with worry.

“Hey, Shines. Are you okay?”

Ah yes. Another maddening thing: Steve’s sweet nickname for you. Where others called you Speedy – because of how quickly you had finished the intelligence test and made your way up in the Initiative – Steve had expressed his distaste in the nickname because just around the same time, he had learned about the modern term “speed”. Apparently, he did not like the idea of calling you something that reminded him of amphetamines. So instead, he had once admitted, he converted it in his head to the speed of light. And so Shines had been born.

The affection he sometimes spoke the single word with – the affection you longed for and mostly only imagined – was perhaps even more idiotic than your lack of reaction to his slightly shy advance two years ago.

For someone with your IQ score, you really were surrounded by stupidity and radiated it generously yourself.

The chuckle that escaped you tasted bitter on your tongue. “Why, sure. You?”

Even with the limited amount of light, you could see Steve’s searching gaze clearly. You could practically hear his mind whirling, wondering where the sudden ire had come from.

In an instant, you felt bad for snapping. Your trouble and your insecurities nor your anger at yourself were something he deserved to bear consequences for.

“I’m… fine,” he said after a while, kinder than you would have in his place. “Is there anything I can do to make the ‘sure’ better?”

Yeah, you thought. There were quite a lot of things; either put his mouth on yours – or elsewhere on your body, you weren’t picky – or maybe stop being so damn good of a person and being so damn loveable all the time when he didn’t mean anything beyond friendship by his behaviour.

You swallowed the once again bitter note and charmed a smile, your hand covering the back of his, still softly resting on your elbow.

“No. But thank you. I’m… sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he replied, eyes still searching. And soft. So annoyingly soft and caring.

You lowered your gaze and gulped, not finding it in yourself to respond. What could you even say to that?

The problem with Steve was that even if you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel him looking at you. At rare times, it felt like a punch, if he got truly angry with you – when you did something he considered stupid and dangerous as if you hadn’t been quite inspired by his own bravery – but at other times, like this, it felt like a fluffy blanket and a warm cup of tea pressed to your hands when the blues came knocking on your door.

No words were spoken for a long minute. And then, like you should have known they would, Steve’s arms carefully pulled you to his chest and wrapped you in a hug which felt just like his gaze a moment ago; except this feeling was real. He sucked up all your anger and frustration you into his chest with ease, breathed in once, then twice and unlike you, he simply let it go, allowing you to soak in his affection instead.

You could cry at the sweet gesture. Sweet, sweet Steve: deadly force, righteous passion, beautiful soul and infinite kindness locked in a body of a gentle giant.

“Thank you,” you muttered into his shirt and you could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, arms tightening just a fraction.

“Any time.”

You felt your lips curl up in a smile too, allowing yourself to bask in the goodness he was. Strong embrace, but kind. Almost too hot to touch, like a sun, but somehow still feeling like sunshine instead. Lips soft as they touched your hairline, fingers gently running through the length of your hair-

You stiffened. It felt too good; it felt like what you wanted but didn’t actually have. Steve Rogers did not kiss you; not your cheek, not your lips, not your forehead or the crown of your head.

Or at least he never had before.

“Steve?”

His smile was a little bashful as he retreated, his hand sliding down your hair, holding your chin in gentle hold you could easily escape should you want to. But you didn’t. Why would you when his thumb caressed your cheek, eyes firmly holding your gaze even as his smile was slightly shaky?

You didn’t dare to stop whatever this was; because this was what you wanted. Whether this was Steve giving into the game only or anything else, you’d take it. Because you didn’t start it, you didn’t force him into something you wanted. He initiated it; he held you as if you were something precious all on his own. If this behaviour expired in a few minutes, well. At least you would have a sweet memory to cherish, wouldn’t you?

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

Your eyes must have been wide – even ridiculously so – at the admission, your heart like a thunder in your chest and in your ears. You… certainly you must have misheard. You must have misinterpreted what he was trying to say. That was not right. Was it?

“…you have?”

His smile widened, eyes full of good-natured amusement. “I’m always thinking of you, Shines. I’m honestly surprised I’m keeping it so subtle that you are this shocked by the revelation.”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. You must have breathed in something. You had too much to drink. Tony sneaked some edibles into the refreshments – yes, that had to be it.

But then the even more rational part of your brain chimed in: you could never dream up something as detailed. And Steve would have been immune to the drugs. He hadn’t drunk too much of the Asgardian liquor from Thor’s flask either.

You were both perfectly sober at this moment – as insane and surreal as it felt. Did Steve really…? You swallowed the slightly hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up your throat.

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t make fun of this, would you?”

Steve’s eyes grew serious even as they remained kind.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he assured you, the slightest hint of offence in his tone. “You’re just… you’re everywhere. I try to focus on work, but you’re always on my mind. That smile, those pretty eyes. This… this drive and passion you have and turn it into hard and good work and kindness. Those gorgeous, gorgeous lips…”

You licked again them on instinct, not missing the fact that Steve’s gaze flickered down at the motion.

No way. No way.

You had hit your head. This was a fever dream, this… this was all you wanted and needed, it couldn’t possibly become true all of sudden. Right?

But if this was a fever dream, you might as well enjoy it. If it was reality, even the better. Because Steve Rogers was serious in matters of heart – he was most definitely not pranking you. So if he was saying he had been thinking about you, you had no reason to doubt him.

There rarely ever was a reason to doubt Steve Rogers.

“I… I think about you too,” you reluctantly admitted, his lips suddenly so, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke only one word in response.

“Good.”

The first touch to your lips was nothing but tentative; nothing but temptation and yet everything you could ever want. His hand cradled your face like precious porcelain and his kiss was like one of an artist asking his muse to allow him into her favour. Warm and soft; his lips were as soft and gentle as you had always thought they would be. The tender brush of his fingertips to your face however made your first kiss all the sweeter, as did his smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he released your lips. The giddy feeling burst inside your chest with intensity you couldn’t possibly contain.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna have to agree with good,” you whispered; and before you could feel silly, Steve’s low chuckle echoed in the limited space, his thumb tapping your lips.

“Yeah.”

That was the only warning you received before his mouth were back on yours, letting you taste that smile of his; his arms, still around your waist, pulled you closer against the hard planes of his chest, the sensation reminding you that you could in fact too do more than simply lay your hand on him. He appreciated your initiative with a content hum, the vibration against your lips sending pleasant shivers down your spine and into your belly. When he deepened the kiss, his touch on you growing firmer, angling your head to his liking, you felt like you could melt from the inside, all nerves on the most beautiful fire.

Your startled sound when your back bumped into the wall of the closet drowned in Steve’s mouth, your parted lips but an invitation for him. The sensations were quick to rise into your head like a heady wine and suddenly only seven minutes in whichever alternate reality you felt as if you had entered seemed unfairly short. Your fingers flexed in the material of Steve’s shirt, his large palm sliding to your hip and squeezing. His hips rocked ever so slightly against yours and the semi-hard bulge pressing against your core had you whimper his name just as his lips moved to your jaw.

“Love hearing my name like this from your lips, Shines,” he whispered like a secret into your skin, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh and nearly causing your knees to buckle. I’ll say it as much as you want, you wanted to say, the words stuck in your throat, only a breathy Steve coming out again, much to his apparent delight. “That’s it. Wanna hear it more… but not here.”

The flash of a rationality was brief; before it could take, his lips were back on yours and you felt yourself falling, leaning into his touch, hands wandering over his exquisite body, hips rutting forward at the beautiful, beautiful groan your touch elicited from him.

I did that. He wants me, he wants me like this. I want him. I need him.

The simple thoughts occupied your brain, a last portion of coherency you managed as his palm slid to your ass with purpose and pressed you against his hardness in a promise of what was to come. You decided that you could die a happy woman right there and that you needed his mouth on your more than you needed oxygen; you grabbed onto his face, pulling his lips back to yours, rewarded by a deep kiss and both of his hands grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a little too much vigour.

You succumbed to the pleasure of his touch, head spinning, the world passing by in a blur.

It didn’t matter how you got into his room next; it didn’t matter, not when his hands were on you again, an absurdly polite can I? as his dextrous fingers slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder, a kiss to every inch of the newly revealed skin, leaving nothing but hunger for more in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he praised as he mouthed at your skin, the new endearment causing your heart to tremble, stomach fluttering pleasantly. “The times I imagined this, imagined you… turn around, Shines.”

You’d swear that you would let Steve Rogers get away with murder; but asking you to turn away from his hot lips, that was toeing the line of insanity.

“Steve-“

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he cut of your protests, strong hands simply spinning you around.

He rewarded you for the lack of resistance by placing his hand over your stomach, skin hot even over the thin fabric, pressing you back against his chest and his more than evident arousal, lips attaching to the column of your neck, sliding the other strap of your dress down. Instinctively, you leaned your head back, exposing your throat to him, a small but sharp nip of teeth sending a fresh wave of arousal into your core.

Long fingers slid up your throat, turning your head so his lips could meet yours again, demanding and yet so giving, hand inching from your belly down your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress and causing your breath to hitch.

God, you needed him. You wanted him in every way possible, but if this was what came before he’d take you out, you had zero problem with that. You needed to feel him.

The please escaping your newly freed lips sounded almost pathetic to your ears, but Steve clearly disagreed with your assessment.

“Oh sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this… and look at you,” he rasped, nudging you to actually look ahead, only for you to realise you were now facing the tall mirror of his closet, gaze setting on your own face, dominated by the kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown up by lust. “Gorgeous… and you’ll look even more beautiful when you’re coming apart for me. First on my fingers and then…”

You shuddered when his fingers finally slid under your skirt, caressing the lace of your thigh-highs, chest vibrating against your back with an appreciative hum. Your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, only to find his eyes laser focused on your face in the mirror, flashing darkly when his fingertips found the soaked fabric of your panties and pressed.

“So wet for me, Shines. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Can’t wait to make you mine… you want that, don’t you?” he whispered, your lips parting wordlessly and at the very moment, he pushed the offending fabric to the side and dipped his index finger in your slick. He stroked a few times, coating his fingers in your essence and entered you with two with laughable ease. You pushed your hips forward on instinct, already needing more.

“Steve, oh god-“

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, free hand pressing your back to his front, hardness digging into our ass. “I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…”

Vainly wriggling against his strong hold because that was exactly what you wanted, you caught his smile in the mirror, his lips pressing softly against your temple as his fingers begun pumping in and out of your tight channel, stealing the breath from your lungs. Resigned and secretly thrilled by his dominance, you leaned against his chest, letting your head fall back against his strong shoulder, praying he’d give you more soon.

Instead, he pulled his fingers out altogether, painting your inner thighs with your slick, stepping back, leaving you cold and empty.

“St-“

His hand landed gently on your shoulder, his other hand easily sliding the zip of your dress down your back, letting it fall to the ground. Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your stockings, soaked panties and lace bra, you shuddered under Steve’s hungry gaze; but at the same time, the adoration and admiration shining from his gaze even made your stomach flip and stopped your hands from self-consciously covering yourself at least a bit.

You weren’t shy. You weren’t ashamed of your body; but goodness, Steve’s eyes trailing the length of it, taking in every inch of bare skin and appreciative of how the fabric hugged the parts still covered made you feel like a goddess. A muse.

His gaze was hypnotic as his eyes met yours in the mirror again, his smile soft before it earned a lustful edge.

“You’re a piece of art, Shines…” He stepped back to you, lips attaching back to your neck and his fingers pushed the panties down and let them slide down your legs, hand sprawling over your pubic bone and teasing your core with his fingers again. “And I’m going to appreciate that in every way I know… but you’re gonna watch. I wanna watch you as you fall apart for me, and I want you to see how beautiful you look when I make you mine. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t think. You nodded at the promise of pleasure, instantly rewarded by three fingers stretching you, one of your hands landing on his wrist to keep him inside, the other grabbing at his head behind you. You felt his smile against your neck before he sucked on your skin, setting a punishing pace, this time letting you meet his advances. The sight of his large hands over you was insanely erotic; his size and strength captured in a repetitive picture, your muscles contracting as you tried to encourage him to give your more. The pleas seamlessly blending with his name were falling from your lips as the pressure inside you built and built, the wicked curl of his fingers nearly having you reach for the stars.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Steve-“

“Watch, sweetheart,” he reminded you feverishly, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his blown pupils, dark, pleased and unabashedly on you taking his fingers one moment, on your face contorted with pleasure next, the sheer hunger in his gaze aimed at you only adding fuel to the heat in your abdomen.

You tried to keep your eyes on your pair, you truly did, just to please him, just to gain more. It earned you a whispered praise to your ear, a sucking kiss on your throat and circling motions on your clit.

That had you were done for. Your eyes fluttered close as you clenched around Steve’s fingers with a breathless cry, ecstasy exploding inside you and lighting your body on fire.

You could feel Steve’s burning gaze on your still, but he didn’t push you again, didn’t deny you just because you didn’t give him what you couldn’t at the moment, too wrapped in your bliss. Of course, he didn’t. He was still Steve; much filthier than you imagined, but still himself. Warm and safe, holding you close when his motions slowed down, prolonging your pleasure, still supporting your weight when your legs nearly gave out. Chuckling silently with an adoring soft kiss to your jaw when you breathed out a thank you, thinking about the fact he caught you, probably sounding as if you were thanking him for absolutely ruining you with his fingers only, not so subtly showing you that you might not survive when he’d turn it up a notch and actually took you.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he whispered into your hair, carefully pulling out his fingers as not to hurt you. “Even more beautiful that I imagined.”

You shuddered, unable to respond with words, turning around and chasing his lips instead. He obliged and kissed you sweetly, wrapping his arms around you close, only now having you realize he was still fully clothed himself. And that the way his had cock pressed against his slacks must have been painful at this point. For that reason alone – that he put your pleasure before his, as you knew he would – you would sink to your knees in an instant if your core wasn’t already throbbing for him.

“I want you,” you said against his mouth, revelling in his smile and the playful nip on your lower lip he graced you with upon your admission.

“Good. Because I need you. I need to see those pretty lips parted for me and unable to speak anything but my name when I fill you up so well you’ll never even think about another man again,” he said slowly, letting every heavy syllable sink into your skin and have your already racing heart nearly give out – and letting your lips loose.

“Yes. Please.”

When you suddenly found yourself in the air, held firmly in his arms and carried to the bed, you couldn’t find the shame in you to be bashful about your needs.

Because when he sunk into you and delivered on his promises, you felt like you entered another plane of existence. When his hands grabbed onto you, his body an art piece you could feast your eyes on and touch, you suddenly understood his need for a mirror, for a glimpse from every angle, the absolute beauty of your bodies together as one, of seeing him lose himself to pleasure of his own.

His chants of endearments, praise and mine echoed in your ears, your lips indeed only remembering to speak his name, whisper it and scream it. When he lifted you to your high two more times, filling you with his spent to make you his indeed, you knew that you would be his forever; you had been for a long, long time.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…”

“Yours, I am yours.”

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly realized you never knew darkness could feel so violent to your eyes. Steve’s deeply concerned gaze was firm on you, frown settled in his brows, both hands on your biceps holding you as if you were about to pass out any second.

His relieved breath brushed over your face, shoulders sagging.

“Thank god, Shines. I was starting to get worried. Are you alright? It’s like you went to a completely different place for a moment there.”

Why were you standing? You had been just lying down, the heat of Steve’s skin seeping into yours from your back and his arm wrapped around your middle as you had fallen asleep.

“What?” you rasped, feeling the ghost of the soreness in your throat as you nearly lost your voice having screamed his name. You blinked again as the image of his beautifully red parted lips trembling with your name flickered in front of you, disappearing just as fast – replaced by him growing worried by the minute.

In a closet. You were in a closet. The sound of idly chat and chuckles dimmed by the walls of the closet reached your ears. The party was still in a sleepy swing; a stupid game was still on.

The realization was like a bucket of icy water dumped on your heated body, all-consuming confusion swallowing all your thoughts.

But… how? You--- that wasn’t- you had been to Steve’s room. He had—- he had kissed you, right here, a dream coming true when he admitted he was still thinking of you and was ready to act on it, his hot soft lips, his hands, deliciously long thick fingers, wickedly dextrous as they sneaked between your legs, opened you up for his--- he had stretched you so good, in every way imaginable, his gaze so dark as he watched you both in the mirror, so sweetly and devilishly delighted at filling you up to the brim, making you his-

“Okay, that’s it, Shines. We’re out of here-”

“No!” you blurted out, horror seizing you at the mere thought of coming out to the light right now. With you face flushed; with your core painfully empty and slick even as the aftershocks of your orgasms, having felt so real, turned from echo of pleasure to mortifying all-consuming shame. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m fine. I just… I must have had too much to drink and zoned out.”

“You didn’t drink that much,” Steve opposed swiftly, his gaze so unnerving, and could he just stop, stop looking at you like he cared, so sweet and nice and so frustratingly not yours even if the affection in his gestures felt all the same as in whatever fucked-up dream experience you just had just been through. “We should-“

“Please, don’t-- they’re never gonna let us live this down if we bail,” you argued lamely, unconvincing even to your own ears, feeling tears burn in your eyes and desperately trying to stop them from showing.

“Fuck that. It’s just a stupid game.”

‘Fuck, look at you. I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…’ echoed in your ears, so crystal clear you would have sworn it had happened – but what other evidence did you need that it was just a wild creation of your mind?

Steve didn’t love you. Steve didn’t want you this way. It had never happened. You were still in this closet in the dark, blinded by the light his persona, this time annoyed since the light only hurt your eyes.

And you heart. Your stupid little foolish heart.

“…yeah. Yeah, just a stupid game. Just… so so stupid,” you muttered, no longer talking about the game – and unable to stop the tears from coming anymore.

You laughed bitterly, understanding nothing, but not caring, even more irked at the alarmed expression on Steve’s face when he noticed the few glistening drops rolling down your cheeks.

“Shines… what is it? What can I do to make it better?”

His hands, having been burning a brand onto your biceps, shifted, one caressing your arm, the other rising to your face; and you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the touch, not when it meant less than what you wanted and needed, not when his fingertips brushed your cheek as if it was something precious to him – not when you knew it wasn’t.

You stepped back out of his reach hastily, your back hitting the wall; but not without catching the flash of hurt on his face when you rejected the affection and comfort he was offering.

“I’m sor-“ The words died in your throat, the sudden almost electric shift in the air making your hair stand on end.

As fast as if you snapped your fingers, Steve was no longer looking at you.

In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Steve?”

Your whisper was tentative, but your step forward was not. Heart thundering in your chest, your eyes roamed his suddenly expressionless face. What the hell was happening?

Gulping, you reached out for his hand with yours; but as you squeezed, his hand remained limp by his side.

“Steve, can you hear me?”

Frustration and shame swiftly forgotten, your fingers slid to his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It fluttered under your touch like a hummingbird; but with how fast your own heart was beating, it might have been that you could feel your own.

You went to a completely different place for a moment there, you recalledhis words, real words, right after you found him observing you with concern rather than pulling you to his bare chest after an intense session of fucking.

Whatever had happened to you, be it blamed on alcohol or anything else, was clearly happening to him now. That or you accidentally triggered some kind of a flashback with the way you had reacted. If you had, you’d never forgive it yourself; but you’d have time to feel like an asshole later. Now, Steve needed your help. Fast.

Except you had no idea what was actually taking place in here, let alone how to solve it.

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

You were not going to stay here another second. Not when Steve, sweet kind Steve who deserved the world, was stuck in some strange trance you might have caused.

You were just about to bang on the door of the closet with all your might when a gasp for air had your head snap back to Steve so quickly you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

Your hands were on his arms to steady him before you could think about it twice. Relief flooded your body when his gaze unmistakably found yours, even if he stared at your wide-eyed, clearly rattled by whatever had just happened.

“Shines?” he rasped, blinking a few times as if to adjust his sight to the darkness again, following the lines of your arms to where you were holding onto him with confusion. You swiftly dropped your hands, his frown only deepening at that.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I--- I think so?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the suddenly unreadable emotion in his face made a lump grow in your throat.

“Yeah, the fact that this sounds more like a question than an answer really tells me you were right,” you stated, feeling small as you saw Steve had trouble finding his footing. As his friend, you had the privilege to see him vulnerable more often than the general public, but that didn’t mean the fact he seemed clueless and slightly lost now was still unsettling. “We should get out of here, right now. You were staring blank ahead for at least a minute. You really scared me, Steve.”

His eyebrows shot up as he learned that was what happened.

“I was…? That’s what-- you scared me too. You were staring into space before too... What happened to you in that time?” Steve queried, gently despite obviously being affected himself. “Do you… do you remember any of it?”

You let out a small distressed noise, heat of shame flooding your body all over again.

Yeah, no. You were not going to tell him what exactly happened, regretfully only in your head.

You rarely lied so blatantly, less so to Steve, but these were desperate times. You’d rather keep at last some of your dignity.

You licked your lips. “I… I just zoned out. And then suddenly you were here, asking if I was sure I was okay. You?”

His eyes searched your face for a moment as if he could sense your lie – or at least lack of complete honesty. Yet, he didn’t press, swallowing loudly instead and giving you a shaky smile.

“…yeah. Yeah, same. That was… strange.”

No kidding. You believed him losing consciousness the way he had was strange indeed.

Except when you zoned out, you dreamed of a world where Steve railed you into oblivion while watching you both in a mirror. Until now, you thought that shoving you against a wall and hauling you up in those enormous arms and railing you like that would be more than enough to satisfy your cravings, but apparently you were wrong. But never mind that, right? You could be flexible… flexible enough, in more ways than just one. God knew sex with a man as fit as Steve might require some stretching.

You licked your lips again, mouth feeling dry at the memory. And yet. It wasn’t all a memory. He still was so close, watching so intently. Almost as if… no.

You laughed without a trace of humour.

“Yeah, well, maybe Stark laced the walls with something when he was closing the door-“ your voice trailed off, eyes growing wide as you entertained the wild thought. “Actually, you know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Honestly, it would be a perfectly plausible explanation. In fact, you wanted that to be the explanation; it shifted the blame. You and Tony could share the blame for the inappropriate images still flashing in your mind at least.

Not to mention that theorizing was the most welcomed distraction you could get in the tiny space growing hotter by the minute, full of Steve’s masculine scent seeping into your skin and making your underwear even damper by the second.

“Hm…” Steve hummed, intrigued, his concern melting into outrage. “Loki suggested the game and made the closet. Whatever happened could be on him.”

You frowned at the implication, instinctively protective of the god of mischief; Tony was the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shenanigans using precisely the fact Loki might end up being blamed while he’d laugh his ass off.

“Tony didn’t exactly protest, maybe he just jumped at the chance.”

“Hold on a second… do you think they would team up? To deliver some sort of an advanced Halloween prank?”

Your first instinct was to say no. The thought was absurd. Loki and Tony tolerated each other at best, Tony being one of the people having the hardest time forgiving Loki for the destruction he had once caused… when it suited him. Other times… well.

“I’m…” you hesitated, “I’m not sure, actually. But I know I’m not laughing.” For sure.

Steve face was serious as he observed you, worry creeping into his expression again – you only hoped he forgot all about your earlier outburst, even as you were aware that was very unlikely.

“Can’t say I do. Once we’re out, this game is over.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you agreed instantly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

He seemed a little flushed, a little shell-shocked still. Then again, you imagined you did too. At least you hoped you did; you hoped Steve couldn’t read you like a book… and you hoped Wanda was smart enough not to enter your mind while you were in here.

Oh god, Wanda.

“Yeah… but that’s only cause it’s not a terrible imposition to be here with you of all people,” Steve said lightly, a ghost of a genuine smile curling up his lips, an unvoluntary smirk passing over yours at his choice of words.

“Well, I’m honoured not to be a terrible imposition to you, Captain,” you sassed, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest. “I suppose there are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Such a compliment,” he threw back readily, eyes twinkling. Minutely – and you would swear it – his gaze flickered to your lips.

You heart started racing. You only imagined it. There was no way. Was there? Or…?

“Shines, I… there’s something I think I should tell you,” Steve said slowly, voice turning surprisingly soft.

You blinked, the feeling of déjà-vu hitting you like a train. You had to be dreaming again. There was no way he said those words, not so tenderly, not-

The door opened so suddenly you had to squint against the flood of light; light as harsh as the truth, overtaking all of your senses.

You stumbled out of the tight space with a deep breath, the colder air sobering you up fast. Whatever Steve was about to say, it didn’t matter; it was probably your mind playing tricks on you again and if it wasn’t, it was probably just words of consolidation he came up with at the spot, an attempt to sooth whatever had bothered you before. Nothing more.

Because whatever you had fantasied about in the closet, it was just that: a fantasy. True, one you weren’t aware you had, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Steve had long moved on from asking you out two years ago. Whatever could have been, you had missed your chance then; he was just being friendly. He tried to offer comfort, because that was what he did. Even when you hurt him by your rejection of it, even when he was rattled himself by whatever he had experienced, he tried to comfort you again what could be two minutes later, because that was what good friends did.

Not a terrible imposition – that was what he said, after all. Even as you knew he probably chose the words on purpose to distract you and amuse you, it was not exactly a declaration of love. There was nothing but friendship between you, not from his side and that meant you would keep it that way unless you were ready to risk it all.

Which was going to be never.

As Steve firmly announced that the game was over, contrary to the booing from several Avengers, you wondered what it would take to rename the stupid activity to Seven Minutes in Hell.

Part 2

Steve Rogers masterlist

Complete masterlist

Thank you for reading 🥰 I hope you had fun! Leave feedback if you have the energy and time, we love interaction in this house💕

I suppose this is where you could end it, but you won't find the what the heck actually happened and how - and what will happen next 👀 I hope to post part 2 soon since it's almost done 🎃 If you enjoyed and wish to be tagged, let me know :)

Prompt: 7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

Many thanks for Jamie for hosting this challenge and stirring this sleepy fandom to life 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers lemons #steve rogers #captain america #JamiesHalloween2023 #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #seven minutes #anika ann

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rogersideup · 10 months

Text

Nice to be Kneaded

Doomsday

Series Masterlist

Previous Part: The Brewing Storm Next Part: The Snap

Word Count 6,509

My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

The aggravatingly annoying sound of your 4 am alarm rang and vibrated, causing an echo underneath Steve's pillow. As always, he reached over your peacefully sleeping form to turn it off and take the brunt of being the bearer of bad news to wake you up in a far more favorable situation than obnoxious ringing and loud buzzing.

He kept your phone right next to him knowing damn well you had another alarm set for 4:10, it made him smile every single morning when he'd wake you up and you'd ask for 10 more minutes of cuddles without fail.

Today was no different.

"Baby" Steve mumbled, rubbing your back with some pressure. Half your face was smooshed against his shoulder, your leg was thrown across his hips and your arm rested on his torso, hand gently splayed atop his chest. "Time to wake up, sweetie."

Instead of simply letting him know you were awake, you reached your hand up and covered his mouth. His beard tickled your palm and you could feel him smiling.

"Shhhhhh" You smiled at his giggles. "Don't be an asshole. You already know what I want."

"10 more minutes?" Steve asked, his big hand wrapping around your wrist to move your hand off his mouth and right over his heart.

"Eleven" You settled deeper into him, as close as you could possibly get. His hand rested on the top of your hip and squeezed you comfortably tight.

A few kisses were placed at the crown of your head, and although you were absolutely not ready to be alert and take on the day, something in you really just wanted to take in the moment and appreciate the warmth and comfort of your favorite boy in your bed. So for ten whole minutes, you laid there in a blissful embrace hoping it would never end.

But when the second alarm sounded and Steve quickly shut it off, you let out a puff in complaint. "There's no way that was 10 minutes, I want 5 more."

"We're always going to want just a few more minutes." Steve swiped the hair away from your face, and gave you another kiss on your head.

"This is so unfair." You complained, digging your whole face into his chest. "Whoever schedules me for mornings is such a bitch."

"Hey!" He gasped. "I happen to know the girl who keeps doing that to you, and I don't appreciate you talking about her that way!"

"The most tragic story ever told is the one of a girl who is so warm and so cozy in bed, snuggled up to the hottest man in the world, but she has to get up and go to work even though it's cold outside and she's still so warm and sleepy"

"In the WORLD?!" Steve exclaimed, sounding more awake now.

"Universe" You smiled, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"Wow" He marveled. "Have you ever seen Thor?"

You laughed at his question, then leaned over him to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "You're even better than Thor." You whispered, lips still grazing his.

"Now you're just lying." Steve smiled. "But thank you for trying."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Baby, and it just so happens to be you I'm looking at."

"You're too kind, Beautiful." Steve shook his head. "Are you sure you have to go to work?"

"Yeah, I'm positive." You ran your fingers through his hair.

"You just said it was a tragedy to leave this warm cozy bed when you're so, so sleepy." He recalled. "It's my job to save people from tragedy, you know that. So I think you should stay."

"I wish I could." Something in you really wanted to just call out for the day and never leave the bed. But, you chalked it up to sleepy brain manipulation. "When I get home, we're getting right back in bed."

"What time will you be back?"

"Hopefully around 2"

"Sounds like a perfect nap time to me."

One last kiss, then you were on your feet to start the day, leaving Steve at your house to do whatever Steves do when you aren't there to see it.

Work was actually alright. It was always alright. Even on the bad days you liked being there, it was comfortable, easy, and there was always good company. Each of your employees felt like they were your friends, and you had hung out with every single one of them outside of work so you definitely knew they didn't just like you because you signed their paychecks. Each one was a hard worker and a team player, you cared a lot about them.

It was pretty standard and routine quite honestly. You baked, opened the store, worked the front through morning rush then made your way to the back for decorating when the crowd had settled down.

"Oh fuck!" The screeching of Sabrina, one of your decorators filled your ears followed by the laughter of almost everyone on the kitchen. "Noooooo!!"

"Your shoes!" Danielle, a baker, barked out while laughing.

"It keeps keeps getting worse!"

You looked over at the chaos just to see Sabrina standing at the icing station with a bursted open tip-less piping bag that has splattered neon pink royal icing all over the place. It covered her apron, oozed down her hand, slowly dripped down onto her white shoes, and splatters of it were along the table and wall.

"Oh my goodness" You immediately joined in on the laughter. "How did that even happen?!"

"I don't know! I was just tying the end and all the sudden it exploded!" Sabrina explained, holding the dripping bag over the table to make for easier clean up, joining in on the laughter.

"Let me help you" You continued laughing as you grabbed paper towels and started wiping her down.

You bent down to salvage her shoes as much as you could but all of the sudden you felt a drop on your forehead, then two, then three...

"Sabs!" Danielle called out. "Her head!"

When you realized the hot pink icing had starting dripping onto your forehead it caused for even louder laughter. Everyone else laughing drove you to laugh even harder until you lost balance and fell straight onto your butt which in turn made everyone laugh so hard they couldn't even breathe.

The chaos was loud enough to cause the barista in the front to pop her head back to see what was going on before mumbling "I'm not even going to deal with this right now."

Every muscle in your stomach was sore and a tear was rolling down your cheek by the time you managed to calm yourself down, actually getting up to wipe her shoes off.

When you finished, she tried cleaning herself up the best she could in the sink before laughing once more. "You know what? I think I'm just going to go on break to deal with this"

"I think that's a great idea" You giggled, wiping down the counter and wall. "Take a 20, give me your apron I'll get you a clean one."

She took her apron off and handed it to you before disappearing into the bathroom. An occasional giggle slipped passed you and Danielle's lips as the thought of what happened replayed in your minds like a broken record.

She emerged from the bathroom about 5 minutes later, and walked up to you to wipe pink icing that you had missed off your forehead.

"Gosh- it's like pepto bismol came on your face" Sabrina commented, wiping away.

"Hmmm what a lovely thought" You giggled, deep down it made you happy that your employees felt comfortable enough around you to make comments like that.

One of your main goals of opening Nice to be Kneaded was to create an ethical and happy work environment, and so far it seemed like you were doing something right.

"Okay, you're good." Sabrina let you know, tossing the paper towel in the trash.

"Shall I mix you more color?" You questioned as she pulled her phone out and sat at the break table.

"Yes please, I need about 2 bags full of pepto bismol cu- oh my god" Her eyes went wide and filled with fear as she looked down at her phone.

"Now what?" Danielle questioned.

Sabrina's eyebrow furrowed and she mumbled to herself reading headlines for a few moments before reading one out loud.

"There's a giant space ship in New York" Sabrina looked up at the two of you. "Live streams Everywhere of this huge fight happening. Iron-Man, Doctor Strange, Spider-Man... they're fighting these weird alien looking people. Oh..OH. Bruce Banner is there too."

You physically had to clutch onto the edges of the countertop as Steve's words played in your head. The storm was no longer brewing, it was directly overhead.

"Does anyone know why?" You questioned, trying to play it cool, feeling the electricity buzz around in your joints.

"They want the time stone."

That was all you needed to know that today was doomsday, the day you and Steve had been dreading since the moment you met. You wanted to cry, but you held it together knowing there were steps you needed to take.

First, you needed to make sure everyone was safe. Second, you needed to hear it from Steve's mouth.

You didn't know what to do in order to make sure everyone was safe in the first place, but Steve would. Steve just somehow knew how to make everything better.

"I'll be right back." You stated before rushing out of the back door. As you reached for the phone in your pocket, it started ringing. You didn't even need to look at the name to know who it was.

"Baby" You started, fear taking over your whole body. "You were right. This whole time you were right."

"Sunflower, you need to send everyone home." Steve instructed. "The whole country is about to be put on a stay at home order. Close the shop and get home."

"Okay" You breathed out. "How much time do we have?"

"Sam and Natasha are on their way to me. It'll be a few hours at least" Steve explained. "But please, get home as fast as you can."

"I will, I'll close up as fast as I possibly can. Give me 20 minutes, I'll be home." You nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." You could hear the reassurance in his voice. "Just- be safe okay? We'll talk about it more when you get home."

"Okay, bye baby"

"See you soon, sweetheart."

You hung up feeling terrified, flustered, and awfully sad, but knew you needed to be brave long enough to close up shop and get home.

After making your way back into the kitchen, you walked up to the front and called all your employees to the back for a team meeting. They were all confused, but had a good idea considering they were asking questions about the donut shaped ship over New York.

You instructed them to kick all the customers out and turn off all the ovens. Throw any dirty dishes in the sink but don't wash them, take home any of the pastries in the front then toss anything that wasn't wanted, then get out as fast as they could. They all needed very little explanation to understand why this needed to be done, but they understood.

So, you helped. You boxed up a bunch of desserts to bring home to feed to a few Avengers, checked that all the equipment was turned off, assisted in shutting blinds and locking doors, then you were in your car and pulling into your driveway before you even knew it.

Steve heard your car and popped out of his front door to guide you to his house. You briskly walked over and he held the door open for you, you set the box of pastries down on the entry way table before he pulled you in for a big hug.

You didn't know what to say or do, there were no words you could think of to address the situation, you didn't know how to comfort a superhero looking into the eyes of a dangerous battle, you didn't know how to start the end of your journey together. You didn't even know if you could hold it together.

In the back of your mind, you were worried that this was going to push him over the edge into an anxious spiral. Slightly worried he would have a catastrophic panic attack over this very moment he had been dreading since the moment his feet touched Greenwood soil. But you could tell just in the way he was holding himself that this was nothing but a huge relief.

Just how you could tell he felt relief over this painful journey in his life coming to an end, he could tell you were trying really hard to be brave. But he didn't miss the way you were ever so slightly trembling, the way your arms held him so tight, or the deep inhales as your face nestled into his chest. You were trying to take in every second, you were already saying goodbye.

"I'm sorry" Steve broke the silence. "I was really hoping this would happen more peacefully."

"It's okay, not your fault" Your hands rested on his shoulder blades, the two of you slowly rocking back and forth. "Just worried about you and what this all means."

"You don't have to worry about me, baby. I'll be okay. Actually, you don't have to worry about anything, alright? We're going to make sure you stay safe." He kissed the top of your forehead.

"But what about you? What's going to happen?" Your lip trembled as you asked.

You missed the pout in his face as he heard your emotions starting to unravel, so his hands traveled up to the sides of your face to make sure you believed him. "I've done this so many times, okay? You don't have to be scared, I'll be fine."

A single tear fell down your cheek, and he gently swiped it away with his thumb. "What about the accords? What if you guys can't do what you need to do because of it?"

"It doesn't matter" Steve shook his head, still holding your face gently between his palms. "This is exactly why I didn't want them in the first place. Because what's happening right now is bigger than anything that can be governed, and we have to choose to not care just to keep everyone safe. I'll break any law over and over again if I have to."

"You said Sam and Natasha are coming here?" You asked.

"Yeah, Bruce called me from Tony's phone." Steve nodded. "Sam, Nat and I are meeting up here than we'll be going to Edinburgh to get Wanda and Vision, then bring them back to the Avengers compound in New York to protect the stone in Vision's head."

"Will I meet them?"

"Yeah" Steve chuckled at your question. "Sam will be here in about two hours, Natasha will be here later tonight. But they know all about you, I think they're excited to meet a friendly face. We aren't very used to that in recent times."

"I'm so nervous" You laughed at yourself, another tear rolling down your cheek.

Steve smiled before kissing you. "There's no need to be nervous about them. I think they already love you."

You took a big deep breath before sighing. "So, we have two hours to get all of our ducks in a line."

"Unfortunately" Steve agreed, letting go of your face and held your hands instead.

"What do you need to feel good about what you're getting yourself into? I have no idea where to even start to support you through this."

"You're so sweet" Steve smiled, little lines bunching up near his eyes. "Well I promised we'd get back in bed when you got home from work so how about we go cuddle and watch Cars 3 while I fill you in on everything you need to know?"

You nodded in agreement but before you even knew it, he had swept you off your feet earning him a shriek followed by complaints guised by giggles.

The two of you got settled, his back against the headboard and you sideways in his lap as he walked you though what you can expect now. Your slow tears continued to involuntarily fall, and every single one was gently wiped away by his hands.

He explained to you that he went ahead and payed a whole year of rent on his place so he could come back and move his stuff when he could as to not burden anyone else with the task. That alone made you smile, it was at least one promise of another time in the future where he'd have to step foot back in Greenwood again. He was leaving you with the copy of his keys you already had. You promised him you'd do a little walk through whenever you could to make sure everything inside was how it should be, but you didn't know if in the midst of heartbreak it would be a good or bad thing to be surrounded by all his stuff.

But that was a future problem for future you.

Then, he started filling you in on Captain America stuff.

"So when Sam gets here, it'll just be this... but...with Sam." Steve explained, laughing at his own means of explanation.

"Baby I don't think there's enough room on this bed for Sam." You laughed with him, trying to contain your sniffles. "Are you the middle spoon in this situation?"

"I'm always Sam and Nat's middle spoon" Steve chuckled. "But don't worry, we can move down to the couch. And when Nat gets here, she's going to land the Jet in the field, then walk over. We'll strategize for a bit then head out from there."

"...I'm sorry. The JET?" You questioned. "The field? As in...."

"Our favorite one by the park? Yeah." Steve confirmed. "We gotta get to Germany somehow"

"I guess that makes sense." You nodded.

"So Sam will be in civilian clothes when he gets here and change before we leave, but Nat will get here in her suit and likely have her batons on her." He continued explaining. "I'm just trying to prepare you because I know the suits kind've freak people out sometimes, it's-"

"Intimidating" You finished for him.

"I'll also be changing into my suit before we go."

You stopped to think about that for a second, and the thoughts must I've been evident on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, noting your furrowed eyebrows.

"I don't know, I guess I just realized you're Captain America and you have a superhero suit." You said, earning more laughs from Steve.

"Oh, well, welcome to this conversation!" He joked.

"You've had it here this whole time?" You asked.

"Yeah, it's in my closet" Steve motioned towards the closet door.

"Huh" You pondered. "You have your shield here?"

"No" He shook his head, remorse plaguing his tone. "Tony has it, I gave it back to him. His father made it for me."

"Do you miss it?" You asked.

"Not yet" His hand squeezed your arm comfortably. "Maybe that'll change after a fight or two"

You nodded in understanding, then let your head fall onto his shoulder. "I mean this in the least offensive way I possibly could, but I'm really glad I got to know you under a circumstance in which you being Captain America was the least interesting part about you."

Steve digested what you said, and thought about it for a moment. "You know what? Me too."

"Yeah? Does Cap have trouble in the dating department?" You questioned with a cheeky smile. "Cause I'd only imagine he has a long line of pretty girls and guys waiting for a moment to snatch him up."

"First of all, that long line you're talking about has always been a lot shorter than everyone makes it out to be." He corrected, wagging his finger around. "And secondly, considering my public reputation has quite literally never been this awful, it's just been really nice to have you by my side through all of it. I've never really had to question if you were in it for the right reasons considering there wasn't much going on for me in the first place."

"If I knew right off the bat I would've been way too nervous to talk to you" You admitted.

"You? Too shy? No way." Steve denied your statement.

"Shit, if you weren't a customer and I just saw you out and about I would've been too shy to talk to you" You blushed at your confession. "You're just so handsome."

"You're too pretty to be intimidated by handsome guys" Steve complemented, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Well it doesn't matter anymore because you're the only one I want" You sniffled, lip wobbling again and another tear spilling over the edge. "I don't want you to go."

Steve squeezed you tight and placed kisses all over your forehead. "I wish I didn't have to, baby. But this isn't the last time we'll see each other, okay? I'll do everything I can to make it back here the second I can. But first I just need to make sure everything is okay and everyone is safe, and I need to make sure you aren't going to get in trouble for this."

"I know we haven't put any labels on this to make this moment easier, but just know that you are the best whatever this is I've ever had." You used the back of your hand to wipe more rogue tears. "Thank you for being such an amazing guy, and sorry I'm crying. I tried for a long time to be really brave about this but it's just not working."

"It's okay to cry, you're very brave. The bravest girl I know." Steve reassured you. With two fingers below your jaw, he lifted your face and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "You know I love you?"

You couldn't help but to giggle at his question, before placing your lips against his once more. "It's painfully obvious, Stevie."

"I thought so" He narrowed his eyes and nodded his head, smile poking through his lips formed in a tight line.

"I think it's painfully obvious that I love you too." You couldn't wipe the smile off of your face regardless of never having experienced something so bitter sweet before.

"Yeah" Steve agreed. "I already knew that."

"Great, glad we're on the same page." You settled deeply into him, as if crawling into his skin still wouldn't be close enough.

The two of you stayed cuddled up as close as you physically could until the very second the universe told you that your time alone together was over. Eventually your tears dried and the two of you enjoyed the moment the best you could and for exactly what it was. Decelerations of love, and more than comfortable silence through rapid fire thoughts in each of your brain all felt the same.

Static in your joints, grey clouds rolling in. Each moment they rolled in closer and closer to shower the two of you in heartbreak and worry.

The lightning touched down in the form of a text from Sam saying he was five minutes out, and the thunder roared loudly as a knock at the door four minutes later.

It was weird for Steve to be trapped in the middle of undeniable sadness, yet relief and absolute joy over being reconnected with his best friend under such a stressful circumstance. He opened the door with a big smile on his face, you nervously hiding behind his large frame like a shy child at a birthday party. But after a reunion in the entryway and an introduction in the living room, everything Steve predicted about the interaction proved to be true.

Sam was excited to meet his precious Sunflower, and you quickly came out of your shell not too long after meeting him. He was a charismatic guy, and you were so lovable and easy to get along with. Steve knew there was practically zero margin for error in this equation.

At some point while waiting for Natasha's arrival, Steve stepped away from the living room for a few minutes to take a phone call from her, and when he got back, you and Sam were laughing up a whole different storm.

And when Natasha arrived, it was the same result. If it weren't for the upcoming battle and separation dangling over their heads, Steve would've felt happily and wholly complete.

As they sat and strategized, it was nearing midnight. Words you couldn't even comprehend were flying out of their mouths about situations you couldn't even begin to imagine being in the center of. It was rapidly approaching the 24 hour mark since you've been awake, and although your brain was fighting so hard to get you to sleep, there was so much worry happening in it. Worry and exhaustion fought for dominance as you slowly let your head fall onto Steve's shoulder while trying your hardest to absorb all the information they were spewing.

It was really none of your business, and frankly, it didn't effect you one bit, but hearing their strategies, and just knowing they had a solid plan with lots of alternative choices eased up the frantic energy in your mind.

You missed the glances exchanged around the room when Steve's arm found it's way around your shoulders as he spoke. No matter how exhausted you were, you managed to stay awake until the words you dreaded hearing slipped off of Nat's tongue.

"Alright, boys. Suit up." She told them, getting up off the couch. "I'll go do one last supply pass of the Jet."

And just like that, she was out of the door and Sam was headed towards his bag in the entryway.

Steve kissed your forehead, but it felt like an apology as he unwrapped his arm from around you and stood up. Then, he kissed your lips before jogging up the stairs to his bedroom to change. Sam had also run off somewhere, leaving you alone on the couch for the emotions to flood once more.

Waiting on the couch felt an awful lot like a glimpse into the near future, just sitting by your lonesome, sad, worried, waiting for your love to return. Your heart thunked with pressure and stamina knowing when he came back down, he would be in the iconic suit you grew up learning about in grade school.

He would no longer be your little slice of sweetness, your secret fling with the boy next door. No longer your fugitive to hide away and love secretly between four walls.

Heavy footsteps came back down those stairs and out came Captain America. The superhero, the great, classic icon shared by the whole country.

It was a lot to take in at first, you didn't know how to process the harsh reality right in front of you. Especially since the entire time you've known Steve, the idea of Captain America just felt like the same daydream at an arms length away as it had felt like to you your entire life.

And now, he was right in front of you. Uniform tattered and torn in some places, evident of the hard time Steve had endured during his time in hiding, but the star was still proudly displayed across his chest, and tiny hints of red white and blue persisted through the grey that stained the uniform.

Steve could see how busy your mind was, and the tears welling back up in your eyes. So he walked up to you hand held out his gloved hands for you to take, and when you placed them in his, he pulled you up off the couch.

Once you were standing, your hands made it up to his chest, then dragged down out of curiosity for the suit. Feeling it beneath your fingers was a whole new level of surreal.

"You look damn good in that uniform, Honey" You complemented.

He wrapped you up in a hug, and held you tight with his head on top of yours, desperately trying not to cry. "I wish you would've never had to see me in it"

"The world needs you now." You reminded him. "I'm sad to see you go, but I'm also very proud of you for making it through this, and I'm really happy that you get a chance to prove the accords wrong."

"I couldn't have done any of this without you" He admitted. "Thank you for everything"

Just as your tears started falling again, a flashing light and the sound of a shutter made both of your heads snap to the source of the sound only to find Sam, standing with his phone pointed at the two of you.

"Sam" Steve warned, not amused by the interruption.

"Sorry, it's just too cute" He gushed. "I had to take a picture so it would last longer."

"Sam..." Steve warned again.

"Okay, okay, I'll go." He slipped passed the two of you and headed towards the door. "It was nice meeting you, sugar cookie."

You laughed at the nickname he called you, but you didn't have to see Steve's face to know he was rolling his eyes. "Good luck out there, stay safe."

"Will do. Steve, wheels up in five." Sam reminded him before walking out of the house for the last time.

"I can't cry because I'm on duty now" Steve giggled at himself. "So don't make me cry."

"Well I'm certainly not trying to" You smiled.

Steve let go of the hug and wiped the tears of your face as you sniffled and pulled something out of your back pocket.

Lifting your hand up, a crisp $20 was folded up between your fingers. Then, you slipped it into the first pocket of his suit that looked empty to you. "That's your good luck charm."

"You're so stubborn" Steve blinked back the tears welling in his eyes.

"I told you, I was always going to win this argument." You shook your head, hand resting over the star on his chest. "And whenever you find yourself back in Greenwood, you better leave all your money at home when you stop by the bakery."

Steve gently moved your hand off of the Star on his chest, then he looked down at it, and ripped it clean off his uniform. "My star, my heart, is always yours, my love."

He placed it in your hand, and your tears fell harder. "You can just do that? You don't need it?"

"Yes, and no." Steve told you. "I don't work for anyone anymore, if they want me in red white and blue with a star on my chest, they better love me as much as you do."

"I love you so much" you cried.

"I know you do" Steve grinned. "I love you too, so so much."

Both his hands gently cupped your cheeks, and you two shared a long kiss worth every single word the two of you didn't have time to share.

"Do you want to stay here or can I walk you home?" Steve questioned sympathetically.

"It's okay, I'll stay and lock up- gotta make sure everything is good to be left alone for a while." You reassured him.

"Is that code for you're going to take some of my stuff?" Steve asked, smiling despite his sadness.

"All of your jackets and cute shirts are mine now" You whispered.

"You deserve them" Steve laughed. "They're all yours."

You sighed and looked up into his pretty, sad blue eyes. "You should probably get out of here."

"I know" he agreed with a nod. "I've spent the last almost two years of my life wishing and hoping for the moment I could step out to hiding and live my life again, but now I wish we had more time and that I'd never have to leave ."

"We're always going to wish we had a few more minutes" You repeated the same words he had spoken to you not even a full day ago. "Please stay safe, and if you can when all is said and done can you find a way to reach out just to let me know you're okay?"

"Of course" Sadness and sincerity pinching his brows together, "You stay safe too, okay? Stay out of trouble. I don't want to hear about anymore fugitives in the bakery."

"Don't worry, honey. You're the only fugitive I know, and I plan on keeping it that way."

"Well, you just met Sam and Natasha, didn't you?" He joked. "Hopefully the next time I see you I won't be a fugitive anymore."

"I hope so too." You smiled, tears falling down your cheeks.

"I guess this is it" Steve sighed.

"I guess so" You agreed. "Did you get the quiet and simple stay you were hoping for in Greenwood?"

"You know what? This town turned out to be a whole lot more beautiful and exciting than I could've ever hoped it would be." He admitted.

"I'm glad" You cried. "Now go save the world, Captain."

"You got it, Sunflower."

"I love you"

"I love you too"

One last kiss, then he was gone in a blink.

The second you were positive he couldn't hear, your emotions became unraveled and you broke down into an uncontrollable sob. It wasn't for the tear ripping deeper and deeper into your heart the further away he got from you, but for him.

You felt that same sense of doom he explained to you many nights ago, and you had this feeling it wasn't all going to go to plan.

Your feet carried you outside to the front porch, where you clutched his star to your chest and sobbed while watching the jet fly overhead. Unfortunately the loud engine alerted the whole neighborhood of its presence, and most of your neighbors ended up on their porches as well.

They all looked up into the sky as it reached elevation and took off to Germany. The chattering voices of the familiar faces meant nothing to you, you weren't interested in their speculation, and the thought of the news stories to come about this whole debacle made you feel sick to your stomach.

You could already hear the rumors such a technologically advanced aircraft over Greenwood in the middle of the night would spark. Aliens, Avengers, foreign spies, Avengers fighting aliens and foreign spies.

One particular voice seemed to stand out more than the rest, especially as it got louder and called out the pet name you hadn't heard from it in a while.

"Sweet cheeks?"

Looking across the street, Georgia and Michael standing on their porch. But instead of looking up at the sky, now only full of twinkling stars, they were looking at you sobbing in front of Steve's house.

You couldn't face her. You didn't want to deal with her ill intentions, or her bad words towards Steve, you didn't want to come up with a story as to what he did to make you cry or why he was gone. You didn't want to explain the futuristic looking jet, you didn't want to let go of the star in your hand, you didn't even want to go back into Steve's house to see everything you had just lost.

"Baby, what's wrong?" She called out to you again, now walking down the steps of her porch to approach you.

Physically and mentally exhausted, you were truly incapable of dealing with any added layer of emotion to this already painful experience, so you closed Steve's door and locked it with your key. Then, as fast as you could, you walked across the driveway to yours.

"I'm sorry about what happened between us, but please, Sugar, just tell me what's wrong?" She pleaded but you continued to ignore it. "I'm worried about you. Did that boy hurt you?"

Your heart raced as you unlocked your front door while she quickly approached. You could feel the whole neighborhood's eyes on you now, so you made it inside before she could get to you and slammed the door a lot harder than you intended before locking it.

As if you were on autopilot, your feet carried you upstairs and into your bedroom where you put Steve's star on your bedside table. You ripped your clothes off as if it was urgent and dove into bed, grabbing onto and snuggling Steve's hoodie that he had left in your bed this morning.

With your whole body hidden under your blankets and Steve's hoodie acting as a teddy bear, you buried your face in it and cried to drown out the knocking coming from your front door downstairs.

Today was bad, and with this battle happening in real time, tomorrow was definitely uncertain. But you had been through a lot of heartbreak in your life, and you knew you'd wake up feeling a little better tomorrow, and every day after that. But just for now, you allowed yourself to cry over a tough goodbye.

Meanwhile, Steve boarded the jet without a single word to either of his friends as he made his way to the front to pilot. There was nothing but the sounds of humming from the engines and the clinks of the seat harnesses as they got safely strapped in.

Sam and Natasha were unsure of how to comfort him, they knew from experience and the tears he was blinking away from pooling in his big blue eyes that a quiet Steve was an upset Steve.

"She's great, Rogers. I really, really like her." Natasha gave him the approval he definitely wasn't seeking.

He gave one single nod in response as to not ignore her.

"Sugar cookie? She's sweeter than a slice of cake." Sam agreed.

"Pretty too" Nat wiggled her eyebrows at Sam.

"And the baking?! That's a package deal right there." Sam continued.

Steve was still silent, starting to rip at the seams but desperately trying to hold it together.

"Don't forget smart. A business owner- a successful business owner at that." Nat brought up. "She's set for good, holding it down nicely."

"Really level head on her shoulders, that's a wife, Steve." Sam reached forward to pat the top of Steve's arm with the back of his hand.

Nothing. He kept his face forward and eyes on the controls in front of him as they prepared for takeoff.

Sam and Nat exchanged worried glances before Nat who sat behind him, placed both her hands on his shoulders and gave them a nice squeeze.

"You doing okay, Steve?" She asked delicately.

"Let's just focus on the mission at hand."

Next Part: The Snap

Tag List: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic

Have any asks, or headcannons you want to see come to life about Nomad Steve and Baker Reader? Drop them in my inbox and I’ll write it! Check out extra Nice to be Kneaded more fun stuff bonus chapters here!

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celluloidbroomcloset · 3 months

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I'm kind of annoyed that I only realised what a genuinely good actor Taika is after everyone started hating him. He's so genuinely great in OFMD and Boy and even Jojo Rabbit, he could be great in something with a good script and director but no one would take it seriously at this point and it's really annoying

TBH, I think the noise of the hate is disproportionate to the actual hate. There are some critics who are just assholes, but the critical establishment has been falling apart and there's very little trust in certain publications anymore (ScreenRant in particular is just a disaster now). The people online who spend all their time hating him are a pretty small slice of the world, and so far he's been quite smart about not engaging directly with them. He still has a lot of clout and a lot of space to flex. (TBH, I think some of the hate is an offshoot of MCU fans getting pissy that he said he took the Thor films for money—because of course he did. That's why a lot of directors take work on big franchises. Then he pissed off critics with his Casablanca comments, despite the fact that he's actually right. What he was doing was coming at the Cult of the Director in a way that a lot of contemporary critics cannot stand.)

He's a good actor. Dude deserves to get the space to be more of one. He may not get it in a big Hollywood franchise film, but that's also be a good thing. Too many good actors have been trapped in over-budgeted studio films to the point they don't get to do anything else (Robert Downey Jr., for instance). I hope at some point Taika goes back to New Zealand and makes another film for himself.

#reply #ofmd #taika waititi

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weyirn · 2 years

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◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ!!!! If you don't mind can you do a avenger boys x male reader. The m!r is small compared to the boys and one day m!r was doing something and he couldn't reach something that he needed. What would be their reaction and would they help out. (Sorry this was my first request lol I apologize if it's bad 😭)

Lastly, stay hydrated and have a wonderful day! 🤍

Wassup, anon! And don't worry, this isn't a bad request at all! Also hope yall are having a good day, and thanks for the stayin' hydrated reminder! 😁

Marvel Men x Male!Reader

Marvel Preferences: You Need Help Reaching Something

☆Steve looks a little troubled seeing you struggle, since it kind of reminds him of how small and short he used to be. He helps you without you even asking. For the future, Steve makes sure things aren't so high up so you don't have trouble reaching them.

❄️Bucky teases you a little on your height, but he gladly helps you when things are out of your reach. He thinks it's a little cute, but he doesn't tell that...

⌲Sam laughs and (jokingly) encourages you by telling you to jump higher, probably earning a hard stare from you. He'd be like "okay, okay, relax. Step aside," and he'll help you while smiling to himself.

🐜Scott would feel confident that you need to ask him for help, only to have trouble reaching high things himself...He would probably get a stool in order to get whatever you need.

💲(He's an asshole lol) Tony would say something like, "looks like someone's too short," and then stare back at you when you would glare at him. When you would tell him to stop and help you, he sighs and does what he's told to do, while mumbling under his breathe about how short you are.

🕸One small problem...Peter probably can't reach tall places either (lmao). But he just climbs up and gets whatever you want, and gets confused when you would look at him funny.

⚡️Thor chuckles and pats your head, telling you not to worry. He gets whatever you want with ease, but other times, he would lift you up for fun so you can get it yourself.

🐍Loki thinks it's kind of cute when he watches you struggle get things that are out of your reach. Sometimes, he'll just stand by and watch you until you call him out and demand him to help you. He'll hold it over your head for a bit, before finally giving whatever you want to it because he thinks it's amusing.

💚When Bruce sees you trying to reach whatever you want, he kind off feels sorry for you. He gets whatever you want for you, but next time he makes sure to have a stool near by so you don't have to ask for help.

🖤Eddie chuckles and gets whatever you need, just that simple. Venom on the other hand teases you for being shorter than him and calls you 'pipsqueak' for being so short...It's not guaranteed that he will always get the things you want that are out of your reach ,though (because he's an asshole).

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ladyantiheroine · 6 months

Text

You Taste Like Stars

Summary: Natasha sneaks Steve off during a New Years Eve party at Avengers Tower.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff

Requested by @exhausted-electron

Tags: Pegging, femdom, cunnilingus, lingerie, oral sex (fem receiving), Steve being a himbo.

Author's Note: I'm not actually a big Marvel fan, I wrote this for a friend. If I get some stuff wrong, please don't be mean to me, Marvel fans.

————————————————————————— Natasha had been eyeing the clock on the wall for what felt like hours. She wasn’t sure how long one had to stay at a party before it was no longer considered rude to lead. The tall champagne glass in her hand was down to a few drops and in the time it took her to finish it, she hadn’t gotten less bored.

From the windows atop Avengers Tower, she could get a beautiful view of the city below. Billions of glittering, golden lights that made you feel like a god looking down on the heavens. No doubt the kind of feeling that a guy like Tony was going for.

Tony was hosting the event, a New Year's Eve charity gala featuring the city’s elite at the very top floor of the former Stark Tower. He’d invited the whole crew over and Natasha felt obligated to go, even though hanging out with a bunch of rich assholes wasn’t her idea of a fun evening.

Hence, she found herself on a Saturday, standing on the edges of a party of formerly dressed socialites laughing over overpriced booze. She turned her back to the main room and stared out into the cityscape. Her reflection in the window stared back at her. Her red hair was neatly curled at her shoulder, and a new dress for the event. Long black velvet, off-shoulder with a slit up the skirt, and pearl necklace and earring to top it off.

Empty glass in hand, she turned and her gaze trailed across the room. Tony was in the center of the room, life of the party as always, spreading his arms wide as he explained to some investors about some of Stark’s newest projects. His audience of rich pricks stood in rapt attention.

As for the others…Thor was pounding back drinks at the refreshments table while the server licked her eyes up and down his body. Bruce was already drunk and stumbling around and Clint was holding him up. Nick Fury was in the corner, speaking to three men in black suits who were clearly uninterested in champagne or chatting or watching Tony listen to the sound of his own voice.

And then, there was Steve.

Steve was standing with an unzipped glass of champagne in hand in front of two women who were clearly chatting him up. At least, clearly to Natasha. The two women stood close to Steve, asking him questions and touching him in small ways that were just subtle enough to be socially proper but communicated something flirtatious. They were smiling and giggling at Steve’s lackluster jokes.

Steve, of course, was oblivious. As far as his words and body language suggested, these two girls were just very friendly and very interested in his new tux. Natasha had been watching him on and off all evening. A part of her was amused by it. Poor Captain had no idea those girls were flirting with him because he was too sweet to think that such nice girls could have ulterior motives. But there was another part of her, one that curled darkly in her stomach, that she couldn’t quite explain or suppress with alcohol.

Finally, the two girls got tired of Steve’s unresponsiveness to their flirting tactics and they turned their attention to the circle surrounding Tony. Steve was left alone, looking slightly confused. Then, he turned and saw Natasha staring at him.

Natasha’s breath hitched and she averted her gaze. Steve sauntered over to him, a friendly smile on his handsome face.

“Never pegged you as the wallflower type, Miss Romanoff,” he said.

Natasha smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Not much else to do while Tony commands the room,” she said.

“Yeah, the guy’s not a sharer, is he?”

Steve stood by Natasha and crossed his arms as he watched Tony dazzle the crowd with more drivel about tech and numbers. Natasha pretended to watch but flicked her eyes over to Steve. She had to admit, he cleaned up nice. His blonde hair was neatly combed back and he was dressed in an impeccable black tuxedo.

“Think someone should remind Tony this is a charity benefit?” Steve asked. “And therefore, not everything is about him?”

“Sure,” Natasha said. “And then we can explain calculus to a fifth-grader.”

Steve chuckled, a pleasantly deep sound in his throat.

“He’s the only one of his us having any fun,” Natasha continued. “Well, except you at least.” She paused for a second before that feeling curled in her stomach again. “I saw those two girls talking to you.”

“Nancy and Barbara?” Steve said. “Oh yeah, they’re super nice. Nancy’s dad is one of Stark’s investors and Barbara is a sorority friend of hers.” Steve pulled at his sleeves. “They kept asking me about my new suit and where I bought it. They must be fashionistas or something because they kept touching my blazer. Tony got me this for tonight, so I told them I had no idea who the designer was.”

Oh, sweetheart, Natasha thought.

“Did they ask anything else from you?” she asked. “Like for your phone number?”

Steve gave Natasha a funny look.

“Why would they need my number?” he asked. He chuckled. “I mean, I’m not sure what a sorority house would want from me.”

Natasha stared at Steve for a full minute. Steve Rogers was never the…brightest member of the team. Maybe he was always like this, maybe it was that experiment back in the forties that took a few of his brain cells. Regardless, Natasha looked at that man in his puppy-dog blue eyes and was suddenly hit with the urge to kiss him.

“Nat?” he said. “You okay?”

Natasha realized she was staring and shook her head.

“Sorry,” she said. “Champagne.”

“I can take the glass for you,” Steve said. “I don’t like drinking much. Makes me feel dizzy.”

Natasha let Steve take the tall glass from her hand and take it to the refreshments table. The server took the glasses from him. Thor saw Steve’s untouched glass, plucked it from the server’s glass, and slammed the whole thing back.

Natasha watched Steve the whole time. Her face was hot and her lips still buzzed since that image of kissing him crossed her mind. Her eyes lingered on him as he stood with his back to her. Those broad shoulders fitted under the black coat, those muscle round under the sleeves, those pants fitting very well over his nicely shaped ass.

She always knew that Steve Rogers was attractive. Anyone with a working vision could see that. The man was a blonde, All-American Ken doll with the strength of a G.I. Joe. He was all sparkling white smiles and kind blue eyes and sweet as apple pie. To someone used to being cold and hardened like Natasha, he was like a warm sunbeam on a winter day.

And she felt hot just looking at him.

Steve returned to Natasha and as soon as he was standing close to her Natasha’s lips began to buzz again. She kept staring at his mouth while Steve, oblivious, kept talking.

“That poor waitress,” Steve said. “Thor is giving her hell over there. I guess that don’t have champagne in Asgard.” He chuckled. “Maybe he’s trying to see how much he can take until the bell drops.”

The bell drop. Natasha had completely forgotten about that. When the clock struck midnight, couples all over the world would be locking lips to welcome in the new year. The image in her head did nothing.

“Alright, everyone!” Tony called. “One minute until midnight, get your glasses ready!”

Everyone in the room moved to the wall with a giant gold clock on the wall. Even Thor paused his chugging to follow everyone. Bruce, Clint, and even Nick all joined the crowd for the New Year's countdown.

Steve took Natasha's arm and urged her towards the clock.

“C’mon, Nat!” he said. “Midnight time.”

Natasha followed Steve and the two of them stood at the back of the crowd. The bronze hands of the clock ticked towards midnight. The servers popped more bottles of champagne the the room filled with foamy fizz.

Ten seconds. The crowd began to count.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Natasha flicked her eyes over to Steve. His smile was beaming and he chanted with the rest of the crowd.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

Her face flushed red and she bit down on her lips. She couldn’t. They were teammates. This could fuck up their friendship. This could be a point of no return.

“Four! Three! Two!”

But it was her only chance, and she was so done resiting.

“ONE!”

A burst of sound filled the world. The crowd cheered, more bottles popped, fireworks illuminated the sky outside the windows. And Natasha took Steve’s face in her hand and pulled his mouth to hers.

Steve made a startled, muffled sound as Natasha suddenly pressed her lips to his. His heart ricochet in his ribcage. Natasha’s mouth still tasted like champagne, cold and sparkling like a mouthful of stars. His eyes fluttered shut and he sunk into the kiss.

Time seemed to melt away into golden candle wax. The cheers, the fireworks, the popping bottle, and the sizzling champagne pour turned to a distant buzz. When their lips came apart, Steven and Natasha stared at each other. Steve was hot in the face and breathless. Natasha felt electric and her heart raced in her chest.

“Nat…” Steve said. “I…”

Natasha couldn’t stand it anymore. Fuck it.

She grabbed Steve by his tie and dragged him away from the crowd of attendees. There was a door in the far corner that led to a staff closet. Natasha pulled Steve inside and shut the door before anyone could see them.

“Natasha,” Steve said. “What’re you—”

Natasha shut him up by pressing her lips to his again. Steve immediately melted into her touch and let her push him up against the opposite wall. Her leg slipped through the slit in her dress and pinned between his legs on the door. Some valve had opened inside her and now every intimate thought Natasha ever had about Steve came out through her hands and mouth. Her hands groped him all over, tracing his muscular body under the fabric of his suit.

Natasha kissed Steve from his mouth down his jaw and along his muscular neck. Steve tipped his head back and released a shuddered sigh.

“Fuck…” he sighed. “Nat, please…”

His voice sent a hot flash through Natasha and the blood in her body surged. While she planted pink lipstick stains on his neck and face, she pulled his tie from his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Nat…” Steve breathed. “What if they hear us?”

Natasha pressed a hand to Steve’s mouth. She leaned close to him and whispered between the spaces between her fingers.

“Then we better keep quiet,” she said.

Steve looked at her with those big blue eyes and didn’t resist as she moved her hand from his mouth to his head, grabbing a handful of that golden hair. Steve winced in pain as Natasha pulled him backward with her. She moved her back against the closet door, thumping against the wood in a way that no doubt anyone on the other side could hear.

Maybe Natasha didn’t want to stay quiet.

Maybe she wanted to hear everyone in Stark Tower fuck their precious captain’s skull in.

“On your knees,” Natasha said, her voice a breathless wisp.

Steve, ever the obedient soldier, dropped down to the floor. Natasha lifted the black velvet of her skirt and bunched it at her waist, while Steve pulled her underwear down her long, muscular legs. He let out a luscious sigh.

“God…” he said, drooling at the sight of her naked pussy. “You’re so incredible…”

Natasha threaded her fingers through Steve’s hair, tightening her grip.

“Don’t tell me,” she said. She moved his face between her thighs. “Show me.”

Steve kissed up Natasha’s inner thigh, making her shiver and her hair stand on end. Natasha moaned and tipped her head back against the door. Her eyes fluttered shut as Steve slipped his tongue between her folds.

“Fuck…” Natasha sighed. She gripped both hands in Steve’s hair. “Right there, baby…just like that…”

Steve smoothed his hands up her legs to grip the side of her thighs. She tasted divine, hot, and dripping wet down his throat. Steve had imagined Natasha fucking him so many times he lost count, but he never thought it would actually happen. They were teammates. There was too much at stake. But at that moment all he wanted to do was lick every drop of her.

Natasha jerked her hips and pulled Steve’s head harder against her. Her thighs spread to make room for his head and she moaned as he swirled his tongue right over her clit. She wasn’t sure how experienced Steve was, but his tongue was long and velvety and knew right where to taste her.

Steve grunted deep his his throat. He gripped his white-knuckled hands against her thighs as she fucked his face. He didn’t want anyone to hear them, to catch them, but the sound of Natasha’s pleasurable moans was music to his ears.

“Steve…” Natasha’s voice pitched. Her nails dug into his head. “Fuck…”

She was getting close. Steve could feel it in the way her thighs tightened around his head, the desperate tone of her voice, the exquisite pain her hands nailed in his head. He growled and began eating her like a starving man. He licked and sucked and didn’t let a single drop of her go to waste. Natasha arched her back against the door and tipped her face up to the ceiling.

“Steve,” she moaned. “Fuck…right there…just like that…keep going…”

Natasha’s body was shiny with sweat, a bead of perspiration dripping down the front of her dress. She was hot and glowing and didn’t care if the party could hear them because all she could think of was cumming on Steve Rogers’s tongue.

When she came, it was like a glass bottle shattered against a wall. She bucked her hips into his mouth, fucking his wide mouth until every hot drop was trickling down Steve’s throat. Her breaths came out in heavy pants and Steve grunted and moaned into her pussy.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Natasha’s body simmered to a stop. She was sweaty and warm and she pressed against the door to stay standing. She dropped her head down to Steve, who was looking up at her with the big blue eyes and his lips dripping with her cum.

Steve spoke first.

“Did…” he said. “Did that feel good?”

Natasha’s heart swelled in her chest and wanted to push him against the wall again and smother him in kisses. Instead, she put a hand on his cheek. Steve nuzzled into her touch like a puppy.

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re good at that, Rogers.”

A small smile bloomed on Steve’s face. Just then, someone knocked on the closet door and Natasha jumped at the sound.

“Steve? Nat?” Tony called from the other side of the door. “Everyone’s leaving. You two in there?”

Natasha and Steve looked at each other. Neither of them knew if they wanted the rest of the team to know about this, whatever this meant.

“Yeah,” Natasha said. “Steve’s feeling sick. Must have eaten something.”

“Yeah, I’m really sick,” Steve called.

Natasha gave him a look that said “Hush.”

“I’m helping him, don’t worry,” she said.

That must have satisfied Tony because his footsteps disappeared from the door. Natasha turned her gaze back down to Steve. He was still flustered and cum-wet, but her eyes focused on the bulge at the front of his pants. Outside the door, everyone was making their way towards the elevators to leave. Natasha didn’t have time to deal with Steve here.

So, she’d have to take him somewhere else.

“Meet me at the compound in an hour,” she said. “I’ll return the favor. Okay?”

Steve’s brain was soup. All he could do was look at Natasha in her beautiful face and say, “Yes, ma’am.”

Before Steve could ask any further questions, Natasha straightened her dress and hair, then disappeared out the closet door, leaving him alone with a humiliating boner and a face as red as apples.

Steve mets Natasha exactly where she told him. He arrived at the Avengers Compound an hour later. It was long past midnight but Steve was too restless to be tired. He’d been fighting the aching erection in his pants the whole ride over and the memory of Nastaha touching him did nothing to help.

Natasha was not the kind of woman to waste time. On the front door of the compound was a note written in Natasha’s scrawl: SECOND FLOOR. MASTER BEDROOM.

Steve made his way upstairs. When he reached the bedroom, he rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Natasha?” he said.

“It’s unlocked.”

Steve opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. The room was dimly lit, only a single golden light from the lamp on the end table. But the light was just enough to catch the outline of Nastaha seated on the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Her dress was gone, replaced with black lingerie complete with thigh-highs and garters.

Steve had often been called a “golden retriever” as a joke. But he was moments from collapsing to his hands and knees and barking like a dog.

Natasha's eyes assessed him up and down.

“I can’t fuck you with that suit on,” she said.

Steve composed himself long enough to respond.

“You did back at Stark Tower,” he said.

Natasha smirked and twirled her finger at him.

“Strip for me, soldier,” she said.

Steve’s face burned bright red and he wondered if Natasha could see his blush. He reached his hand up to his throat and slowly pulled his tie off. Then, he stripped his coat off his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt, letting everything fall to the carpet at his feet.

Natasha watched him as he undressed. Captain American, a pinnacle of strength and power, was completely at her mercy. The power sent a rush through her like she could start glowing in the dark. She licked and bit her bottom lip as Steve stepped out of his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and let his trousers fall to his ankles.

Steve stood before her in the dim, golden light, completely naked down to his boxers. He looked like a statue come to life, the kind of striking beauty that was almost hard to believe in a human.

But Steve Rogers was very human. And therefore, he was entirely breakable.

Natasha rose from the bed and approached her. Steve stood still before her, watching her with an anticipating look in his eyes. He could practically feel her gaze on him, as physical as a wet tongue licking along his body.

Natasha placed her hands on Steve’s shoulders. She smoothed them up to his neck and then pulled him down into a kiss. Steve surrendered to her touch, moaning as she bit hard on his lip and caressed her hands along his body. His cock was aching in his boxers and he whimpered when Natasha brushed her hands against his boxers.

Steve froze as Natasha circled around him, trailing a hand along him, looking at him like she were a dealer appraising a work of art. She stood behind him and placed her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s this?” she whispered in his ear.

Steve gasped as Natasha's hand slithered down the front of his body and curled her fingers down his bulge. His body went stiff as a board and all of a sudden he couldn’t feel anything except Natasha’s hand on his bulge. She teased and played with his cock through the thin grey fabric on his boxers.

“I…urg…ahhh…” Steve couldn’t speak. Natasha pressed her body against his back and he thought he could cum from that alone.

“I did leave you hanging, didn’t I?” Natasha whispered, her sultry voice made the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand. “I should fix it, shouldn’t I? After all…”

She moved her hand down under the seam of his underwear and Steve whimpered when he felt her fingers wrap around his cock.

“…this is mine, isn’t it?” she whispered in his ear.

Steve gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s yours.”

“What are you willing to do to get it?”

Steve was trembling. He worried his legs would buckle and he would collapse to the floor in a puddle of cum.

“Anything,” he whimpered. “Please…Nat…I need it so bad…I need you so bad…”

His words were enticing. Natasha watched him whimper and tremble as she stroked him slowly, agonizingly slow. She had an idea of what to do with him. Something she wanted to do with him ever since the first time she ever watched him bend over to pick something up. The first time she got a look at that muscular back of his.

But first, she needed him needy and desperate. She began stroking him a little faster, and his whimpers turned to little cries. Without an audience behind a door, Steve’s inhibitions melted away.

“You’ll let me do anything to you?” she said, so softly in his ear. “Anything to get you off?”

“Yes,” Steve moaned. “Yes, anything you want.”

“Would you let me ride you on this bed?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me handcuff you to a chair and suck you off?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me just stroke you here and make you lick the mess off the floor?”

“Yes.”

Steve’s hips were twitching into her hand. Any second now, he was going to cum between her fingers. Natasha decided to go for the kill.

“Would you let me fuck you from behind?” she asked.

Steve paused before answering. Either because he wasn’t sure or because he was too close to an orgasm to muster any words.

“Will you?” Natasha asked again, colder this time. She pulled her hand out from Steve’s boxers and he whimpered in agony.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, you can do whatever you want to me, use me, make your plaything, I don’t care just please Natasha….”

Steve was hard to the point of pain. The poor man was even tearing up a little. It was time to put him out of his misery. She brought her lips right to his ear.

“Then bend over for me,” she whispered.

She pressed a hand between Steve’s shoulder blade and bent him over the edge of the bed. Steve’s face hit the mattress and he moaned as Natasha smacked him on the ass.

“Lay still,” she said.

Natasha sauntered to the end table. She brought the supplies with her just in case. Inside the drawer, she pulled out a black leather harness with silver buckles and a thick blue dildo attached.

Steve turned his head in the bed to face Natasha. He watched her step into the harness and adjust the girthy cock at her crotch.

“Do you know what this is?” Natasha asked.

Steve stared at it for a moment and then shook his head.

“This goes inside you from behind,” Natasha explained, running a fingernail down her considerable length. “I’ll lube it up so it can slide in easily.”

“Does it hurt?”

Natasha shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Not if you use it right. The lube will help. Besides, you’ve endured worse.”

To Natasha’s surprise, Steve seemed disappointed. She snickered and walked closer to the bed. She grabbed his chin and made him look up at her.

“Or I can fuck you so hard that you squeal like a pig,” she said.

Steve looked at her with those shimmery blue eyes and nodded. With that affirmation, Natasha grabbed the bottle of lube and began lathering the dildo. Steve watched, drooling at the corner of his mouth while Natasha’s fingers slicked the cock wet.

Natasha walked behind Steve and grabbed the hem of the boxers. She dropped the whole thing to his ankles and then pumped some lube onto her hands. She ran her non-sticky hand down Steve’s back.

“Spread your legs,” she said. “Relax for him.”

Steve did as she said. He spread his legs apart, perking his rear up. Natasha slid a moist finger inside and Steve shuddered.

“Does that hurt?” Natasha asked.

It did, a little. But Steve loved it and he didn’t want Natasha to stop. He never thought pain could feel so good when it came from the right person.

“No,” he said. “Keep going.”

Natasha nodded and slid a second finger inside. She used her free hand to stroke Steve’s back.

“Open up for me, baby,” she said. “I can’t get it in if you don’t open up.”

Steve pressed his red face into the mattress. Once Natasha got him nice and open, she readied her shiny cock at his hole.

“Hold still for me,” she said. She pressed a hand down on his lower back. Her voice softened. “Trust me, Steve. This’ll feel good.”

With that, Natasha shoved herself inside Steve and immediately began swerving her hips. Steve let out a croak of pain and melted onto the bed.

“Nat…” he whimpered. “…fuck…”

The mattress springs sang beneath them as Natasha fucked him into the mattress. Natasha watched Steve whimper and writhe, his muscular back twisting and contorting, pushing his rear harder onto her cock.

“That’s it, Rogers,” Natasha purred. She smoothed her hand up his back before grabbing his hair. “Take all of it for me.”

Steve arched his back and moaned. Natasha started viciously pounding into his ass, thrusting her hips until Steve started crying out. His head filled with exquisite pain as he pulled him back by his hair.

“Natasha please,” he blubbered.

“Shut it,” Natasha hissed. She clasped a hand on his mouth and ducked him harder. “You don’t talk until I make you cum first.”

Steve whimpered against her hand. His tortured cock was burning red and he could feel Natasha fucking an orgasm into him.

“Look at you,” Natasha purred in his ear. “The sluttiest soldier in the U.S. army.”

Those words pushed him over the edge. Steve cried out and Natasha shushed him by shoving his face into the duvet. She fucked him harder and harder, Steve’s hips humping into the bed, until with a cry he finally spilled onto the mattress.

“Fuck...fuck…fuck..” Steve panted.

Natasha slowly pulled her cock out. She looked down at Steve as she stepped out of the harness. The poor boy was sweaty and trembling like a puppy. She traced her fingertips down his back.

“You okay, Steve?” she asked. All her sadistic bravado faded away and her voice cooed over him.

Steve rolled onto his back, grimacing leaving a sticky mess on the mattress when he came. He looked at Natasha, the way the light haloed her red hair, her eyes that made him feel so open and naked. He gently took Natasha by the wrist and pulled her down on top of him. She yelped, then giggled as she nuzzled into his neck.

“That was…” Steve struggled for words. “That was...

He couldn’t articulate how he felt. He felt like a different man. He felt like he wanted to bend over and let Natasha destroy him again and again. But he was too spent to say, so he held Natasha close and covered her in kisses.

Natasha grinned and held Steve’s face in her hands.

“You should probably clean the sheets,” she said. “Someone might come in tomorrow and see your mess.”

Steve smiled and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Yes, ma’am.”

#fanfic #marvel #romanogers #stevenat #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #captain america #black widow

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uniiiquehecrt · 25 days

Text

The definition of a himbo (according to urban dictionary) is as follows:

"Himbo - A dumb or naive man, who, despite looking like an asshole Chad, is actually sweet, respectful, and kind. Typically large, beefy, and relatively handsome, but friendly. Gentle giants, if you will. Perhaps the best example of a himbo is Kronk, from The Emperor;s New Groove. He is large, strong, and stupid, but extremely kind and respectful to everyone. He is also incredibly innocent and unaware of many events happening around him, as most himbos are."

The key words here being the following:

dumb or naive; stupid.

Other definitions also include:

An attractive man, often very buff or fit, that is not particularly smart or bright but often tries to be respectful, particularly to women.

A man who generally is stupid, but tries hard to be a respectful man.

Thor

NOT

HIMBO

and

has never been.

by any definition EXCEPT when approved by Taika Waititi.

But, thank you for seeing that he is, in fact, respectful, kind, and very hot.

We can at least agree on that much.

#anti taika waititi #anti thor ragnarok #&&. thor.#&&. | marvel. |#salt to taste #(nobody asked for this but boy am i about to throw some hands.)#(I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH CONSTANTLY.)

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sineala · 10 months

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Hi!! I used to be big into superhusbands till about the whole international iron man by bendis (i abandoned there..Tony was too different)... I was wondering, do you recommend current marvel comics? Are they still ridiculously interrupted by crossing over and events?

I am actually really, really enjoying current Marvel comics! I also think now is a pretty good time to hop on board.

If you want specific recs, I have lots of them.

Current comics:

We just got a brand-new Avengers run -- issue #2 just came out this week -- and although Steve isn't on the team (Sam is), Tony is there, and Carol is the team chair. Many of us, myself included, have been really looking forward to this run, because it's being written by Jed MacKay, who is a relatively new writer to Marvel who in my opinion writes comics with very well-characterized characters and a lot of love for the source material. (He is also currently writing what has now become my favorite Doctor Strange run.)

MacKay especially writes a very good Tony; he did an Iron Man annual and an Avengers annual back in 2021 (part of the "Infinite Destinies" series of annuals. The Iron Man one had some very good Tony characterization, and the Avengers annual instantly became everyone's favorite because about half of it is Steve and Tony hanging out at home together, and the other half is Steve and Tony punching robots.

So there's not really a whole lot to say about the new Avengers run yet, but I am excited for it.

(Jason Aaron recently ended a five-year Avengers run. I would recommend skipping it, except for the issue where Steve, Tony, and Thor all go skinny-dipping together in a hot tub. It is the highlight of the run.)

We are seven issues into a new Iron Man run, being written by Gerry Duggan (whom you may remember from 1872), and I swear this is the best Iron Man ongoing comic that has come out since I have been in this fandom. Every issue is actually good, and he's absolutely nailing the Tony characterization, and he's clearly done all the reading. And also Tony is getting whumped hard. I really love it. Every time we get a new issue I am excited to read it because I know it's gonna be good.

(You have missed a couple of Iron Man runs. The Dan Slott run was not all that great, but it had some very sweet canon Tony/Jan and also very pretty art by Valerio Schiti. Then we got Christopher Cantwell's Iron Man run, which was the worst Iron Man run I have ever read in my entire life and featured Tony being a privileged and out-of-touch billionaire asshole who then got addicted to morphine, acquired the Power Cosmic, murdered most of his friends (and, I mean, brought them back, at least), and then decided that he should maybe go to rehab so that he could learn humility which apparently he did not have? My least favorite moment was the bit where Patsy Walker tells him he has no idea what it's like to be suicidal and Tony -- a person who has had at least two on-panel suicide attempts -- agrees that, no, he has no idea what that's like. Anyway. You should skip that.)

I have been kind of meh about the current Cap run (other than the fact that it appears to have given us canon Steve/Emma femdom) because a whole lot of it is basically "CATWS but what if 616" and also they killed off one of my minor-character faves and I am very bitter. There is one more issue left in this run, so you might as well just wait a couple more months and start with the next run, which will be written by J. Michael Straczynski. I know a lot of people have strong feelings about JMS' comics work but I have been a Babylon 5 fan since it started airing and I am excited that JMS, the guy who gave us the "no, you move" speech, is going to be writing Steve. (JMS also wrote Bullet Points, if you liked the Steve in that one.)

(Cap runs you have missed include Ta-Nehisi Coates -- it was fine but for the most part Steve was wildly OOC -- as well as a very short run by Mark Waid whose first arc you should check out because it was absolutely amazing and had great Samnee art. I think you've also missed Nick Spencer's run, which. Uh. I don't even know where to begin with discussing that.)

Recent events:

Comics are still going to be comics, so, yeah, there are always events. Some of them are pretty good, though. If you haven't been here for a few years, you've probably missed AXE Judgment Day, Heroes Reborn, Empyre, and War of the Realms. Possibly also Secret Empire, Civil War II, and Standoff.

Of all of these, I would have to say that AXE Judgment Day (written by Kieron Gillen) was my favorite; it featured the Avengers, X-Men, and Eternals all coming together to save the world from a Celestial that was trying to judge all of humanity and then destroy the planet. You know, the usual. I thought it was pretty well done and had a lot for Steve and Tony to do. They got to be on the same side, for once. Steve got a whole bunch of speeches and everyone got a massive amount of angst; there was actually an entire issue devoted to the Celestial's judgment of Tony. So yeah, it didn't have a whole lot of Steve & Tony together but they both definitely had starring roles for the event.

Heroes Reborn (yes, it would kill Marvel to think up a new name) was an event where Phil Coulson sold his soul to the devil to make the Squadron Supreme have always been the best superhero team on Earth. Coulson has been wedged into the comics from the MCU but Jason Aaron clearly committed hard to making him the most evil person possible.

Empyre -- by Slott and Ewing, art by Schiti -- was probably my second-favorite recent event. It once again featured heroes fighting villains, as is right and proper. Steve and Tony weren't the stars of the event or anything but they did, you know, get to help out a bit. It was a bunch of Kree-Skrull stuff and everyone fought some tree people whose names I am blanking on and it also ended in Billy and Teddy's Big Gay Jewish Space Wedding, so obviously you have to appreciate that.

I remember very little about War of the Realms. It was one of those Asgard things.

You probably missed Secret Empire? And possibly the lead-ins to it, Avengers Standoff and Civil War II. This was infamously the event where Steve was replaced by an evil Hydra version of himself who decided to make America into his own personal fascist state. (Standoff was the event where he was secretly replaced although we did not know this at the time; he spent all of Civil War II -- a Carol vs. Tony event, this time with Tony ending up in a coma at the end -- gaslighting all the heroes pretty hard.) Public reaction to Secret Empire was, as you can imagine, very very bad (they decided to promote this as "this is the real Steve and he has been evil forever" rather than, like, "hey we're doing a villain AU for the next six months") and they ended up concluding the whole thing much faster than they had originally planned to, presumably because the sales tanked hard. They basically did a very, very bad job with this one.

Secret Empire has mostly provided a lot of source material for fandom to pick apart and improve upon -- especially the people who like villain AUs -- and its major highlight is a lead-in one-shot, Civil War II: The Oath, which is a villain remix of The Confession in which Hydra Steve addresses Tony's comatose body and, among other things, tells him that the real Steve loved him, and that he always loved him, even when they fought. So, you know. We all enjoyed that page.

Other fun things you might have missed:

There have been a bunch of fun relatively-recent miniseries!

The thing you will probably be most interested is Captain America/Iron Man, which is a five-issue miniseries by Derek Landy of Steve and Tony teaming up to take down a villain (who is, of course, one of Tony's exes). It has some lovely character moments. The collected edition of this is called "The Armor and the Shield."

Jed MacKay -- yes, the guy writing Avengers -- also previously wrote a run of Black Cat that had a lot of Tony cameos, and then decided to write an Iron Cat miniseries in which Felicia & Tony team up to defeat both of their ex-girlfriends who have decided to try to murder them because apparently, yes, they both have terrible luck with relationships. (In Tony's case, this is Sunset Bain.)

We're also currently getting an Ayodele & Akande miniseries, I Am Iron Man, which is set at various points in Tony's history and I have to admit that I have literally no idea what's going on here but at least it's clear that they really like Tony, and it's sweet.

In what I can only assume was an attempt at some kind of MCU synergy, we just finished getting a second Secret Invasion miniseries (written by Ryan North of Squirrel Girl fame) which was an extremely clever series in which basically nothing was as it seemed, and also Tony was one of the major characters. I really, really liked this one.

If you like weird AUs, we also recently got a (Tom Taylor, I think?) miniseries called Dark Ages, in an alternate future where electricity has stopped working. It did have Steve and Tony.

It is not specifically Steve & Tony related but we just got a Wasp miniseries by Al Ewing, which is Jan's first solo book ever. Yes, ever.

And it has nothing to do with Steve and Tony at all, but I feel like people who don't ordinarily read Guardians of the Galaxy might really enjoy Ewing's run on that, because it is incredibly queer. Phyla-Vell and Moondragon are main characters, Billy and Teddy come guest-star for a lot of it, Avril Kincaid (the new Quasar, who is also gay) is there for a bit, and also the overarching relationship plot is "Peter, Gamora, and Rich decide they all love each other and are all going to be in a relationship." This is extremely heavily implied. There are multiple love confessions and the run ends with them embracing. So yeah, Pete/Rich is canon now. It's great.

That's all I can think of for right now.

#replies #lucrezianoin

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fandomesticity · 5 months

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Chaotic, Controversial and Generally Cursed Baldur’s Gate Fancast

Part 2: Extended Party

Lea Michele as Minthara

CONTROVERSIAL She’s known for being kind of an asshole, which, if she could read, would probably hurt her feelings.

Brad Pitt as Halsin

CONTROVERSIAL Looks are passable, but the vibes are off. There’s a reason his kids are no longer in contact with him.

Also, he and Gwyneth Paltrow were an “it” couple in the ‘90s - looking forward for some ex tension that culminates in Halsin and Jaheira eventually rocking the same haircut.

Gwyneth Paltrow as Jaheira

CURSED I find her absolutely insufferable. Unlike Jaheira, I could totally see her using the scroll of immortality.

Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson as Minsc and Taika Waititi as Boo

CHAOTIC (NEUTRAL) The Rock plays The Rock in every role he’s ever done. And Taika Waititi is a delightfully chaotic soul who will steal the show as Boo a la Korg in the cinematic masterpiece, Thor: Ragnarok.

I’ve thought about this way too much.

Part 1 | Part 3

#fancast #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #cursed image #minthara #halsin #jaheira #minsc and boo

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marveloustimestwo · 1 year

Note

Hi love! About the Avengers who you think it would be the most understanding (and the ones who don't) with this situation? I don't like to be held when i'm sleeping, it's nothing against the person who i'm sleeping with, it's just that I hate to be touched while i'm sleeping

Warnings: Yandere themes, talk of them crossing your boundaries

I think Natasha would be the most understanding in this situation.

While she likes physical touch, she's also not one to disregard your want for space and privacy unless you give her a good reason not to.

After all, considering the environment she grew up in with Dreykov, Natasha understands not wanting to be touched sometimes, so she's not going to force you to cuddle in bed if you don't want to.

For kind of the same reason, I think Bruce would be right behind her. Growing up in an abusive home also helps him understand not wanting to be touched in certain situations, so if you explicitly state not wanting to be touched while sleeping, he's going to respect it.

Clint is also pretty good at seeing and respecting your boundaries when it comes to touch.

I think Clint would be the best yandere to have in general to have out of them solely because he's really not that intense compared to the rest of them.

He can be obsessive and protective, but he's willing to work with you on a lot of stuff so long as you're not needlessly putting yourself in danger.

So you not wanting to be touched while sleeping isn't that big of a deal for him. Just be upfront about it and everything will be fine from there.

Now, this is where we start to get into the least understanding out of the bunch.

I think Tony would be next. For him, it's a toss-up as to whether or not your boundaries are respected.

He'll understand when you explain it to him, and he'll try his best to respect you not wanting to be touched while sleeping, but sometimes he can't help it.

More often than not, Tony's having nightmares and will wake up in the dead of night terrified. Sometimes he remembers not to touch you, but mostly he's going to grab onto you, the haze of fear making him forget and instead just need to hold you.

As for Steve, he fully understands what your boundaries are, it's just that he chooses to ignore them 75% of the time, which is why I think he's worse than Tony.

He can't blame him cuddling you at night on nightmares. It's just him being an asshole and blaming it on you being stubborn.

Sometimes he'll give you a bit of leeway when you give him a bit of leeway. If you're a willing participant or at least act like it, it'll be easier for you when you're sleeping.

And as for the worst of them, Thor would come out on top.

There's not really any point where you aren't being cuddled at night, and you sometimes wonder if Thor either doesn't understand or doesn't care.

You could explain it to him, complain, or pull away as many times as you want, but it never stops him from pulling you back into a bear hug at night.

In the beginning, Thor didn't really understand. Cuddling is so nice, so why wouldn't you want to do it? If you explain it to him, he still struggles to grasp why, so it never really stops.

#yandere #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #yandere mcu #yandere tony stark #yandere iron man #yandere steve rogers #yandere captain america #yandere bruce banner #yandere clint barton #yandere natasha romanoff #yandere thor

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mochie85 · 2 years

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To Have and To Hold - Chapter 2

Series Masterlist | My Complete Masterlist

Summary: You and Loki spend time apart, but your reunion is not exactly how either of you planned. A/N: Thanks to @lokisgoodgirl for the help on this chapter. I would have been stuck at writer's block and you guys would not have had a chapter 2. Pairing: Loki x OFC/Reader Word Count: Over 3.4k (It's a long one, folks) Tags/Warnings: Lots of angst. I mean...LOTS. Gunshot - nothing too graphic. Possibly some bad decisions made by our girl...who knows...I don't know. 🤷‍♀️ Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Loki stayed in your room all night, hoping you would return so you could talk about what happened. He knew he said some awful things. He accused you of being manipulative and deceitful. All of which he never believed. Not once. So why did I say those things to her?

He was shocked. It was just like the fates to pull a stunt like this. He wanted, so bad, to be a part of your world, and you in his. He didn’t want to hide your relationship anymore. He got his wish. Sometimes he thought the fates were more wily and mischievous than he was.

Talking to his brother calmed him, surprisingly. He couldn’t remember the last time they had a heart-to-heart talk over imbued spirits. Thor, of course, was surprised about the secret relationship you two had. Or at least, he was kind enough to act surprised. Neither of you really tried to keep it under wraps.

By the end of the session, Thor looked…elated at being an uncle. Loki could only imagine what was going through his head. Sigh. He’d rather know what’s going on in your head.

A sudden burst of the door startled him out of his thoughts. He looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, leaning onto the foot of your bed.

You barged into your room, in a hurry. Running in as if you needed to get something. You stopped when you found Loki waiting for you on the floor. He looked tired, holding on to the nearly empty bottle of gin. His eyes were bloodshot and his shirt looked wrinkled.

“Where have you been?” Loki asked relieved.

“Get out.” You commanded.

“Darling, we n…”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me. Get out. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Well, when do you wanna see me?”

“Never.”

“Violet! We need to talk about this.”

“I don’t need to talk to you about shit! What I need to do is get ready for this urgent mission and you need to leave me the fuck alone.” You headed for your closet, grabbing your duffel bag.

“Listen…”

“No! You listen. Since last night, you made me feel like it was my fault! My issue! So I’m claiming it and making it my issue. And mine alone. I come in here and the first thing you ask me is where I’ve been?” you screamed at him.

The nerve! The audacity! Not even an apology?! “Were you sitting here, wondering if I’ve been fucking the whole compound? Looking to see who my next baby daddy is? So I can entrap them too?” you mocked him. You grabbed your small toiletries from the bathroom and noted how the grocery bag was on the counter. All the tests were still inside. He must’ve picked them up sometime last night and stashed them here.

“I never thought of you that way.”

“Oh, and what way is that? A gold digger, only after your money? Or your title? You know, not that it’s any of your business, but I spent the entire night at the lab. Just to answer your question. Bruce sure is mighty fine company,” you sneered. God, I need to stop talking. Don’t bring Brucey into this.

“All right, that’s enough!” Loki raised his voice.

“I’m leaving for this mission. So help you, God, if I come back and you’re not on your knees begging for my forgiveness you can kiss this relationship goodbye!”

So there’s still a chance! Loki thought. “Vee…”

“No! the first words I better hear from you are an apology. Or I don’t want to hear it. I shouldn’t have to fucking tell you! You should know already you narcissistic asshole!” And with that, you slammed the door on his face yet again and made your way to the hangar.

Loki slammed the door open and followed you. He was about to say his mind. Give you his peace, but you quickly stopped in the middle of the hallway, dropping your bag. One hand was holding on to the wall, the other clutching your stomach. You winced in pain only momentarily before you schooled your expression, picked up your duffel, and continued walking.

“Darling…what was that? Are you ok?” He asked. All his anger forgotten.

“I’m fine, Loki. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” You said not turning towards him.

“Weeks!” Loki screamed out. “What about the…what about the baby?” he finished in a whisper.

“You didn’t seem interested in it last night?”

“Darling, please.”

“Please…what, Loki? You keep pleading with me but I don’t even know what you want from me. Last night you said you wanted me in your life and for the whole world to know! Then as soon as you find out about the tests, you turned on me like I was a disgusting piece of manipulative trash. So until you figure that out, don’t bother pleading with me for anything.” You stormed off, trying to hide the fact that you were clutching your stomach.

Days went by. And although you did speak to Loki over the phone, it was always very short and brief. You couldn’t believe you left the way you did. Without so much as a ‘goodbye’ said between the two of you. It hurt you to hear his voice. Both of you were on guard. Never really saying what needed to be said. Polite conversations about the mission or info that needed to be passed along.

At least on your part, you could use the excuse that there were other people around. The others that were with you still didn’t know about your involvement with each other, besides Thor. You wanted to keep it that way for the time being.

Thor had spoken to you about it one night. The others had gone to bed and you and Thor had stayed awake, taking turns on patrol.

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that you and my brother had found love, milady.”

“Thank you, Thor. Even now? With the…you know?” you gestured to your stomach.

“I think, it’s wonderful news. I know my mother will be thrilled to witness Loki finally find his happiness.”

“Happiness? Ya, right. He practically kicked me out like a used trollop.”

“Forgive him, milady. He is very guarded. We’ve both been taught to be careful because of our stations and positions.” He appealed to you. You raised your eyebrow at him and gave him a cynical look. “That is not to say that if we find love we cannot express it. But rather to be mindful…of our actions.” Thor clarified.

“He accused me of doing this on purpose. To trap him into a relationship with me. Like I was a scheming social climber.”

“You have to understand milady, you hold within you the next generation of our royal lineage.”

“But don’t your future children take precedence?” You asked confused.

“Our customs don’t work that way. We are both kings, my dear sister. And we both have equal claim to the throne of Asgard if we chose to go back and do so. Loki more than me because of his Jotunn blood. He’s actually in line for two thrones.” Thor laughed.

Jotunn. You hadn’t even thought about that. Loki’s DNA. His genetic makeup. Are they even compatible with yours? You stuffed the notion into the back pocket of your mind to ask Bruce later when you get home. Right now, you were still reeling over the fact that you have a prince or princess growing inside of you.

“Father would be glad to know that there is someone to carry on the lineage. They would start the lessons and training right away.” Thor’s eyes glittered with excitement. “I would have loved to personally handle their battle training.”

“What do you mean?” You asked confused.

“The little one would be taken to Asgard, sister, to be cared for under our father and mother while we stay here on Midgard. They’ll learn about our culture and history. They’ll learn to defend themselves as true Asgardian Warriors.”

“What do you mean, right away? Wh-Where are Loki and I in all this? Did he know this was going to happen?” You asked almost hyperventilating. So many questions ran through your mind. Thor’s statement about taking the child away from you raised even more. You weren’t even sure you wanted to keep the baby yet. And here they were planning for its future.

“Loki and I talked briefly about it the night before we left for this mission. Loki didn’t think you wanted to leave your life here on Midgard so soon. There is duty and honor to be upheld, milady. Surely you will understand.” Thor watched you with uncertainty. He saw your eyes water and your breathing quicken. He was not sure of what to make of your reaction.

“Unless…you’d like to be there with the babe. You and Loki should be there of course. We would never wish to part you from your child.” He said looking at you patronizingly. “You will be whisked to Asgard as soon as you two make it official. You’ll be the princess to the people. And If Loki decides, and wins, his claim to the throne, a Queen someday.” Thor patted you on the back with a warm smile on his face.

Queen?! What the hell?!

All you did was fall in love. You never thought it would lead to a baby right away. And now, the future queen?!

“All I ever wanted was a quiet life back home, close to my family. I just wanted my knight in shining armor to grow old with. Not the Prince to make me his princess.”

“Have you spoken to Loki about this?” Thor asked.

“I didn’t give him a chance. I was just so angry and I left.” Tears started to trickle down your cheek. “I – I didn’t realize what this would mean. No wonder he was so shocked! He probably would be glad to get rid of it. Then get rid of me. It’s so much more complicated than I thought.” Tears fell down your face. You bit your lip trying to stop the wail that was about to come out of your mouth.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, milady. Before we left, he practically threatened to disembowel me if I let anything happen to you or the…” Thor said pointing to your belly. “He loves you. That is for certain. He would never throw away his chance at true happiness. He might fumble it a bit. But never doubt his love for you, dear sister.”

Does he love me? He said so much himself before he found out about the baby. Loki wanted to take the relationship public. “Thank you, Thor,” you said as a sniper’s bullet shot through you making you fall to the ground.

Loki was pacing back and forth in his room. You were due back next week and he wanted to practice his speech. He’s written it down on a napkin from the coffee shop down the street. The one you two frequented in secret. He would go there while you were away to think about you.

You were right. You were always right. He should’ve apologized. That was the first thing he should’ve done. The napkin in his hand had been crumpled and nearly see-through with all the handling and folding Loki has done to it. He placed it as the bookmark to one of the many books he bought about human pregnancy and what to expect.

He made his way down to the lab to ask Bruce questions regarding human anatomy and Jotunn biology. In a span of a week and a half, Bruce and Loki had formed a special trust with one another. Mainly because Bruce was the only other person besides Thor that knows of your involvement with each other.

Loki came to Bruce at first angry and beside himself. He was jealous at the fact that Bruce was the one you ran to when he himself pushed you away. But Loki couldn’t stay mad for long under Bruce’s gentle demeanor and The Hulk, shadowing his every move, not too far off.

Now, he’s thankful that you had Bruce to run to. His friendship proved invaluable and his wealth of knowledge insurmountable.

“As far as I know, Loki, she and the baby will be fine. You’ve brought over many past records and instances of Jotunns and other races mingling. There were only a few casualties. And it wasn’t because of the difference in genes but rather poor health conditions of the mother or lack of medical treatment,” Bruce reassured Loki for the millionth time. Loki took a big sigh. He knew he was bothering Bruce with the same incessant questions. But he was nervous and scared that something would happen to you.

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder, “She’ll be fine,” he said. “Have you talked about it, though, since you found out?”

“No. Our conversations have been brief and usually about the mission that she’s on.” Loki sighed.

“Have you…have you considered that maybe she doesn’t want to keep the fetus.”

“I have,” Loki said looking up. Bruce just nodded his head. He didn’t want to pry any further. But Loki had become a good friend. Bruce remembered how distraught you were the night you found out and how he tried to help you. You talked about multiple scenarios and solutions until Fury came in asking for you to go on an urgent mission.

Watching the god before him crumble at the thought of losing you was a real eye-opener. Bruce saw a new side to him. One that he was glad to call a friend. Because of their budding friendship, he wanted to make sure that Loki has thought about all the other multiple scenarios and solutions as well.

“It will be her choice. Always her choice. I would love her no matter what.” Loki said, looking down at his bookmark napkin, the one with his love written all over it.

“All medical personnel please be on hand,” FRIDAY announced through the speakers. “All medical personnel please be on hand. Airstrip Alpha. One injured. Bullet wound through the chest. Female.”

It was late Sunday night. The team wasn’t supposed to be back for another four days. The announcement alarmed Loki. The description of the injured describes you. Although, it could be any of the agents that went with you.

Please not her. Please not her. He ran alongside Bruce to Airstrip Alpha. His long legs got him there much quicker than any of the other medical staff. He saw the quinjet’s back door open midair before it ever had time to land. Thor had jumped down from such a great height carrying someone in his arms.

When he landed, he and Loki immediately locked eyes, and he knew.

“NOOOOOOO!!!” Loki screamed out. He ran towards Thor reaching for your body. He pushed Thor away as he cradled you. Thor stood back, his face a portrait of pain and remorse.

“Loki?” you whispered.

“I’m here darling. I’m here.” Loki said wiping the hairs off your face. He looked up and saw the medical staff running towards them, Stephen Strange behind them. Loki cradled you close and ran towards them. Strange summoned a portal to the medical wing's operating room. Everyone stepped through and Loki placed you on the gurney.

There was chaos erupting everywhere. Hands and voices toppling over each other, trying to open your suit. Trying to pry your wound. Trying to save your life.

And the life of your child.

“Loki! Loki! Look at me.” Bruce tried to get his attention. “She’s alive. She’s alive! And we’re gonna do all we can but I need you to step outside. Ok.”

“I – I can help. I have seidr. I can locate the bullet…or, or…stop the blood…or…” Norns there was so much blood.

“No. You’re too close. Too emotional. Stephen is here. He has powers too.

“But what about the…” Loki tried to argue.

“I will handle it,” Bruce said.

“Come brother,” Thor said as he placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“Don’t you dare touch me! You were supposed to keep her safe!” Loki smacked Thor’s hand away from his shoulder. “Disemboweling you now would be a great mercy. Would you like to know why? Because there are healers here that can probably save your life!” a dagger materialized in Loki’s hand, pointing it directly at Thor.

A portal opened up to the hallway outside and in a flash, it traveled over both the brothers putting them away from the emergency that was happening to you.

“Goodbye,” Strange said as he closed the portal on both of them.

“I was with her the whole time, Loki. I never left her side.” Thor screamed.

“So why is there a bullet in her and not you?!”

“Loki. I swear to you. That attack came out of nowhere. Natasha and Barnes are still there, hunting down whoever attacked her.” Thor said with the blade pressed up against his throat.

Loki was overwhelmed with grief. He pushed off of Thor and began to pace the halls. “For the sake of this realm and everyone in it. She better live.” Loki seethed. His anger and misery ebbing out of him like steam.

Not long after. The operation concluded with the medical staff drained and exhausted. They all congratulated each other on a job well done, and successful surgery.

“Bruce. St-Stephen.” You croaked out.

“Hey…you should be sleeping. None of this heroic stuff. You just got shot.” Bruce said.

“I’ll be fine. Is…” you looked over at Stephen. Then your eyes wandered over to the rest of the staff that was putting things away and cleaning up the room.

“The baby is fine. Still growing.” Strange answered your question. Great! Your secret was just now made public.

“I ask for one thing. And one thing only.” You said aloud so that everyone in the room could hear you. “If anyone asks, and I mean ANYONE from outside of this room asks, tell them I lost the baby.” You looked down, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. You had your reasons. No one was entitled to them but yourself. “Please. I will only say, that it’s for my safety and the safety of the child that I ask…that no one says anything about it.”

“But what about Loki?” Bruce asked.

“Especially, Loki. I’m doing this for Loki. Please, Bruce. Stephen. He can’t know.” You looked up. Pleading with both of them. Stephen circled his fingers and a bright round sigil formed on top of each of the staff’s heads.

“I have altered their memories, slightly. They will remember seeing you were pregnant, but that the baby was lost.” When he finished, the staff’s mood turn more somber and pained. They refused to look up at you, sorry for your supposed loss.

You started crying. An emotion befitting a mother who had just lost her child. You were overwhelmed with the events that just happened. You were scared of the plan that you had just implemented. But for you to keep your baby. For your child to have a happy, normal life, no one can know that they exist. Especially Odin.

Loki sat on one of the chairs in the lounge. His leg - restless, as it jittered up and down waiting for news of either your recovery or of your untimely departure.

When Bruce walked in, Loki all but accosted him for the update. “Good news. She is alive and well.” Loki was overpowered by relief that he hugged Bruce. “She’s resting right now. Recovering. You can probably see her.” Bruce patted Loki on the back, sighing. The next bit of news he was about to give would leave a bad taste in his mouth for as long as he lived. “The bad news is…”

Loki let go of Bruce to look into his eyes. There was bad news! There was always bad news. He should’ve known. Fate would never be so kind to him as to just give him a happy ending.

“…the baby didn’t...” Bruce tried looking down. “The baby didn’t…I’m sorry Loki.” Bruce said.

Loki’s heart broke twice that day. Shattered into indistinct pieces. He had no idea how to move forward. How to talk to you. How to help you. “I think you should talk to her, Loki. Be honest about your feelings. You two need to have a real, candid conversation.” Bruce said looking deeply into his eyes as if he was trying to convey something.

Loki nodded his head, thinking that he understood what Bruce meant. He walked over down the hall up to your door and knocked.

“Come in.” You said weakly.

“Darling,” Loki said as he opened the door and walked in.

⬅️Chapter 1 | Chapter 3➡️

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#writing ideas #fic prompt #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki angst #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki fandom #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki x you #loki x reader #anonymous request #unplanned pregnancy #marvel fanfic #loki series

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hazelhearts · 1 year

Text

We'll Be Alright

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

summary: love takes time, especially when the person you love hurts you in the worst way possible

content/warnings: suicidal thoughts, depressive thoughts, miscommunication trope, wandavision, heartbreak

note/request: ahh my first wanda fic! it's been a long time coming. i put so much of myself into this one so I hope you guys love it as much as I do. warning, it hurts bad.

word count: 2.1k words

masterlist

Staying behind on missions had been a pretty normal thing for you over the past couple of weeks. You could listen to the dumb reasons Tony talked about for hours and hours every day, but the simpler thought is that he's an ass.

Usually Wanda would insist on staying back with you, but she didn't say a word this time. You assumed it was because of Vision. Things have gotten pretty tense between them the past couple of days, and sadly it wasn't the bad kind of tense.

Anyone with eyes could see that Wanda was gorgeous. But beyond that she was kind, compassionate, independent, and knew what she wanted. Not many people could say that these days. Especially not the clump of metal that's been trying to win her over.

Loving Wanda was honestly one of the worst things you could have ever done for yourself. She's been an emotional rock since Pietro, barely letting anyone in. You had only recently broken down some of the barriers, able to convince her to hang out with you. Most of the time it was just sitting silently in each others presence, but that was enough for you.

As the thoughts continued to run through your head, your phone suddenly rang. It took a couple of rings to really gain your attention, but the caller ID made you pick up so fast that it didn't really matter.

"Wanda?"

"Hey Y/N, um Tony wanted me to tell you to make sure that you washed the dishes. Something about how you kept skipping your assigned days?" The joy of talking to Wanda was always dulled by the mention of stick up his ass Stark. Sure you'd skipped a couple of days, but Thor loved doing them! He said that they didn't have to do it in Asgard and that it was one of his favorite mortal pastimes.

"Yeah, tell the asshole that they'll be done. But not because he wants me to, because I wanna eat dinner at some point tonight and the man doesn't touch a dirty dish." Wanda's laugh made the annoying remark worth it, the image of her smile making you grin like an idiot.

"Okay well that's all. See you later." She hung up before you could get out another word. Damn, so much for trying to be smooth Y/N.

----------

The team returned about two hours later, minimal injuries across the board. Wanda seemed to be the worse off. If you looked really closely, you could see a slight limp.

"Wanda-"

"C'mon, let's patch you up." If you weren't in front of the entire team, you'd crush that tin man into a cube and ship him to the nearest manufacturing facility.

Wanda and Vision walked into her room, practically staring into each other's souls. You were disgusted by the pda, that's all. Right?

"Stark, what's on the menu tonight?" Steve received a glare that was probably supposed to be intimidating but ended up making him look constipated.

"Whatever I put on the table. Now scram, or no one gets fed." You had never seen so many full-grown adults run out of a room at the same time.

You stopped in front of Wanda's room hoping the asshole of a robot was gone. For once, your wish was granted.

"Wands?" You lightly knocked on the door frame to keep from startling her. She nodded her head at you, as distant as ever.

"Wanna watch a movie? I picked out a few I thought you'd like." You knew there was too much hope in your voice but you couldn't help it. Since the titanium twat waffle showed up, you barely ever had a moment alone with Wanda.

"I'm sorry Y/N. Vision and I were actually going to do something tonight. Maybe some other time?" You forced the smile to stay on your face, refusing to show her any negative emotions.

"Oh yeah, sure. Another time." You walked out without another word, debating on asking Tony to deactivate the thorn in your side before you did it yourself.

----------

You began to feel immune to the passing of days as you and Wands drifted further and further apart. Every second she wasn't on a mission was spent with Vision. Your heart broke more every day, if that was even possible.

The rest of the team had started to notice your absence. Even when you were with them physically, you were somewhere else. They knew that asking Wanda to read your mind was out of the question. You had clarified that the first time the idea was spoken. Since then, they've all worried in silence. Even shithead Stark was starting to worry about you.

The team (minus you, Wanda, and Vision) got together and put it to a vote. Who would be the one to check on you? None of them really wanted to since emotions were not their strong suit, but it had to be done. The vote ended in a tie between Nat and Steve. Steve, being the only one brave enough to actually do it, knocked on your door a few minutes later.

"Y/N? It's Steve. Can I come in?" No response.

"Y/N, give me some sign that you're alive." Nothing, yet again.

"Alright, I'm coming in." Steve opened the door and there you were, staring out the window.

There were dark bags under your eyes, dried tears splattered across your face, and a haze over your eyes that Steve hadn't ever seen before. Your clothes looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks, as they probably hadn't. Your room was surprisingly clean, seeming as if no one had lived in it for quite a long time. It was true, since what you were doing wasn't really living.

"Y/N..." He knelt down next to the chair you were in, looking out the window. He knew you probably didn't want to talk, but you had to. No one had heard a single word come out of your mouth in months. Not even Wanda.

"Y/N/N, talk to me kid. I'm worried, Nat's worried, we're all worried. You haven't said a word in months, you barely eat, and you barely ever leave this room. I need you to talk to me." Your head turned towards Steve, absent look still present behind your eyes.

"Do you ever feel like the universe is plotting against you? Like, every time you find happiness, it comes in and squashes it?" Your voice was completely monotone apart from the scratch that showed just how unused it was.

"Kid, I should have been dead ages ago. I lost the woman I loved, the life I was living, and my best friend in what felt like a month to me. So yeah, I understand." Your head turned back to the window, but your eyes slowly focused more on the area around you.

"I'm just tired, Steve. I'm so damn tired. I'm tired of hurting, I'm tired of thinking, and honestly I think I'm even tired of living. Everything hurts." Steve's hand came up to rub your back, giving you the slightest bit of comfort.

"Well, let's wake you up. I know that there's no automatic remedy, but we can try can't we? How about you start with a nice shower, brushing your teeth, and changing out of these nasty clothes?" Your hand found Steve's on the armrest of the chair, giving it a light squeeze.

"Are you saying I stink Rogers?" You both let out a laugh, his much stronger than yours, but still a laugh. The first laugh you'd had in months. It felt good.

"God yes. You smell like a sewer. Now, go." Steve laughed as he left the room, and you got out of the chair.

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"Y/N/N! We missed you!" Thor practically ran to you and scooped you up into a hug, cutting off all of your oxygen.

"Can't- breathe. Thor, o-oxygen!"

"Shit! Sorry tiny." He finally let you go, your face slowly gaining back color. You smiled, really smiled.

"I might be tiny but that doesn't mean I can't beat the shit out of you blondie!" Everyone laughed, happy to have a bit of the old Y/N back, no matter how little.

"I made breakfast!" Tony came around in his signature Kiss the Cook apron, a huge plate on pancakes holding on for dear life.

"God, you read my mind." You and the rest of the team rushed to the table, excited as ever to scarf down every bit of food within reach.

One thing you did happen to notice was Wanda. She sat next to you, as far away from Vision as possible. You dismissed it, trying not to get your hopes up as it didn't work out well at all last time.

You practically inhaled the food, finishing three plates in record time. You even beat Thor's personal record, pissing him off more than ever.

You saw Wanda approach you out of the corner of your eye, keeping your head facing down towards the sink. You were sure that these dishes had never been as thoroughly scrubbed as they were right then.

"Y/N? Can we talk?" You risked looking up at her, seeing only sadness behind those beautiful emerald eyes you loved. The sight made you want to throw up.

"Yeah sure, we can go to my room." You put the final dish away, leading Wanda towards your room and shutting the door behind you.

"Okay, what's up?" Before you could even fully turn around, Wanda collapsed into your arms. You grabbed onto her as tightly as you could, holding her as close to you as you could manage.

"I missed you. God, I missed you so much. I read your thoughts, I know you asked me not to, but I had to! You were never around and I was worried! I saw everything, everything about me." You were definitely going to puke.

"Oh god Wanda. You were never supposed to see that." You averted your eyes, unable to look at the woman you loved. You couldn't face her rejection when you were just starting to pick yourself back up.

"Y/N, look at me, please." She put her finger under your chin, raising your head enough to look into her eyes.

"I love you, I should have said it sooner. I just- I thought you could never feel the same way. You were always so fun and amazing, I never thought you'd want me. So, I went to Vision, trying to get over you. But it didn't work! I can't stop thinking about you, and I think you can't stop thinking about me either." The words you always wanted to hear were finally spoken to you, and all you felt was dread.

"Wanda, of course I still think about you. I can't help it. But I'm not in the place for a relationship right now. I just started trying to get myself back together. I just started recovering from the first time you broke me. I can't put myself through that again yet. No matter how much I love you, I need to love me for a while." Wanda slowly nodded her head, averting her eyes this time.

"It's not a no, it's a give me time. I don't wanna make you wait, but I can't do it. I love you Wanda, so much, and knowing you feel the same way about me? I'm over the moon. But I need time, time to gather all these thoughts I'm having and pull myself together." You grabbed Wanda's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I understand. I'm happy you're taking care of yourself." She smiled at you. You could tell it was forced, but you appreciated the effort.

"Do you think we can be friends, y'know, until you're ready?" You smiled right back at Wanda, yours much more sincere than hers.

"I would want nothing more. But, I do have one request."

"What might that be?" Wanda smirked, making you even more confident in what you were about to do.

"This." You kissed her. You poured every bit of love and care you had for her into the kiss, expressing all the words you couldn't say with the movements of your tongue and lips. Wanda kissed back just as passionately, love nearly drowning you.

You both knew that it would take time. You needed to heal, and Wanda did too. You'd both been through a lot, emotionally and mentally. But, until you got your happy ending, you could have her by your side supporting you in the same way she used to. That would be enough, for now.

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