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ronearoundblindly · 3 days

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Day Eighty-Three (1)

CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader

10 A.M., an It Had To Be You tale (see previous or series)

Summary: A joint meeting between AmCaps and the heads of four other major companies goes about as horribly as possible...or is it exactly as you expected? Either way, Steve messes up big time.

Warnings for (hi, I'm Ro) arguments, the absolute shittiness of misogyny, degrading use of petnames, language, social idjit!Steve (he honest-to-god tried his best but whoops). MINORS DNI. If this is not to your taste, please feel free to search lighter stories here. WC 2571

Sadly, the whole thing would have gone better if Tony Stark showed up.

Stark doesn’t do meetings like this though, and you may never bother with one again. You may have no need.

Clammy hands grip the leather spine of your monogrammed portfolio, comfortingly thick with the employee files you’ve brought as ammunition. This is a battle, no doubt in your mind, but Steve acts as if it’s any other day. To him, it probably is.

This is Steve’s fourteenth quarterly get-together of entities using the stabilizing, hydrostatic, insulated, electro-neutral, lead-dense (aka S.H.I.E.L.D) modules which American Capsules supplies. You’ve worked here for twelve of those but never been in the room.

The room feels as big as a concert hall with you an ant in the back pew.

Since the meeting is on your turf, you and Steve wait till the others arrive, your boyfriend highly aware of your nerves but without a clue as to why.

You’ve been preparing for this far longer than the not-quite three months you’ve held the title of co-CEO. It’s important to understand what is really happening between these companies and who exactly is to blame. It was also important to tell Steve nothing until you knew all the facts, and you didn’t until the phone call you just got off three minutes ago.

That’s not enough time. He’ll have to enjoy the show like everyone else,

Steve loosens his skinny black tie and repeats that you shouldn’t worry. He can take the lead. All the stats are printed in the binders laid in front of six chairs around the oblong table. He touches you, reassuringly he believes, at exactly the wrong moment.

Justin Hammer saunters through the door, clocking the intimate hand on your arm when Steve leans forward to whisper, “what’s wrong?” The outrageously pompous pumpkin sucks his teeth, winking at you, and spins to moonwalk closer. Hammer even goes so far as to cup your other elbow with an over-tanned palm.

“Peach, you’re gorgeous. Don’t ever change,” he flirts, damn well knowing that you aren’t the assistant anymore but are dating the man right beside him. “Hey, pal, how’s it going? Lookin’ sharp.”

Justin wheels the nearest chair away from the conference table and plunks down, lounging against the high-backed seat, swinging his feet up onto the adjacent chair. He may as well be at the beach.

He snaps, hand landing in a finger gun pointed at you—or your backside, more accurately, where he’s also staring.

“I like mine sweet and dark. Thanks. ‘Preciate you.”

There’s no elaboration. You’re just the coffee bitch to him.

What’s wrong, you want to tell Steve, what’s wrong is that asshole is only twenty-five percent of the shit I have to deal with this morning!

Before you or Steve can respond, however, the other three arrive in quick succession.

Darren Cross of Pym Technologies might actually be the least offensive of the bunch. His smile is polite and jovial, he greets Steve simply and shakes your hand, and he smacks Hammer’s calf hard enough to make a sound as he passes by.

He, unlike Justin, brought a briefcase, keeping up the illusion that he participates in the company he’s here to represent. Cross probably does still participate, considering he was only promoted recently after Hank Pym retired.

Aldrich Killian is undoubtedly (one of) the brains behind his think tank, AIM, and Brock Rumlow is undoubtedly smug, being a lowly former associate at Stark Industries, now an executive for the Roxxon Energy Corporation.

Each of them has skin in each other’s game; throughout the history of American Capsules’ products, innovations have been shared between them to either create suitable shipping containers or to have their products shipped via those containers. They’ve quite literally shielded their collective work.

It’s a symbiotic relationship.

It’s a circle jerk.

Killian and Rumlow do not bother to walk around and say hello. They fake niceties and unbutton their suit jackets to sit on the other side of the table.

Noticeably, none of them chose either ‘head’ of the table. No one was willing to take a position of power equal to Steve in his own house. Your boyfriend seems to interpret this as acquiescence of some sort—proof that they’ll blindly respect what and who Steve himself respects,—and then Steve wrongly decides to gently run his hand the rest of the way down your arm, his fingers curling to lift your limb until the very last second.

He made it look like you were reaching out for him, like you were a scared child in need of support. You are, in a sense, but he didn’t have to fucking advertise it to these men.

Steve doesn’t make mistakes. He did that on purpose. Maybe he meant to establish some sort of claim to you? To stop them objectifying you? Whatever they do now is solely out of respect or fear of him though, not you.

You’re frozen in place—in anger, truth be told—until Justin drops his feet to the floor dramatically.

“Indulge me, sweetcheeks.” He winks again. “I’m thirsty.”

Doing your very best Vanna White impression, you step back and sweep an arm out toward the drinks on the side server. “Help yourself,” you say with a smile.

It’s only because Justin is an idiot that he misses the dig.

Open to the page he wants, Steve tosses his binder to the wood surface, the slap of lamination to varnish attracting the attention of all the men, and takes his seat at the end.

You waltz to the other side, a clear and distinct separation between you and Steve, equals in life and work but opposites today.

“Shall we wait for Stark,” Rumlow growls in his low voice.

“Not necessary,” Steve allows. “If he shows, he shows. Let’s get to it.”

Steve begins, pointing out a few key concerns. Since you already know all of this, he doesn’t look to you while speaking, but neither do the other men when they respond.

They talk over you as if you’re not there, being blowhards and patting each other on the back for ’surviving in this economy.’ You let them go on. Steve gets nowhere. He gets excuses. He gets parroted promises.

Justin dismisses insufficient specs by saying he’s just a pretty face. He leaves all the numbers to nerds. He laughs about how he’ll have to check with his people about the nitty-gritty details, but he’s sure it’ll work out.

He stands to get his own black coffee, plopping three cubes of sugar in the chrome mug.

Rumlow barks out that shoddy Hammer tech nearly sank a Roxxon oil rig.

Justin feigns ignorance of the incident.

Killian uselessly offers a fix for that, at a price.

Darren argues that Pym has followed their agreement with AmCaps to the letter.

Everybody is fucking lying to themselves.

The shouting continues, escalating until it looks like Killian and Rumlow are close to throwing punches, though you’ve missed why those two are at odds.

Finally, Steve rises, stretching his hands out in peace.

“Everyone, calm down! Take a breath. Have some water. Sit.”

He’s stressed, clearly, defaulting to conditioned behavior which means Steve then looks right at you with a pleading expression.

Wrong again.

Darren lets out a huff and nods at you. “Yes, I think that would be nice.”

“I’ll take a glass,” Rumlow adds with a tap of the table in your direction.

Killian sighs an unmistakable ‘loser’ to Rumlow, and suddenly, the fight is back on.

Time to lock and load.

You cough and stand, flipping open the portfolio in front of you, adjusting your hips in your pencil skirt with a tug but only for affect. You know exactly what draws the attention of these men.

The room goes mostly quiet.

“Water. For the table,” you deadpan command Steve.

Picking up your copy of the report set, you clear your throat.

“I’m afraid Rogers has given you all the impression this is a negotiation. It’s not.” You slide the binder to the center. “It’s a courtesy. A courtesy which none of you deserve.”

“What the hell is she talking about?” Rumlow gruffly asks Steve.

“I’m talking about unpaid balances and unfulfilled orders. I’m talking about product tampering and verified illegal activity that hereby voids your contracts, effective immediately.”

Darren shoots out of his seat. “You can’t do that!” He turns to Steve. “She can’t do that, right?”

Steve, however, is blanched with shock. “Wait, I—“

“Each of your agreements with us—“ you barrel over his protest “—contains a morality clause which was broken by Hammer Tech when they conspired to produce a subpar protective lining and pad Roxxon gas sales in the region, unwittingly causing unsafe storage at a Stark factory in Galmira because the entire operation no longer followed American Capsules specifications—your specifications for transporting your own products.

“Pym,” you continue with force, “failed to produce compact enough items for the containers they ordered and instead chose to resell the regulated lining materials for a premium.” You toss a packet of papers down to Darren. “In your infinite wisdom, this also means you violated multiple Customs laws by forging shipping weights and ignoring safety guidelines.”

Killian puts a bejeweled hand over his vested heart. “Cross, you didn’t?”

“Which brings me to fucking AIM,” you grit.

“Precious,” Steve breaths with a warning tone, but you can’t stop. You’ve waited too long for this moment.

“Because who the hell do you think created the new formula for a light-weight, lower-cost, shitty lining?” You take such pleasure in stabbing a finger in his direction then flinging stapled proof across the table. “Evidence. Evidence of all of this provided by multiple sources. And you were warned…”

Now comes the really fun part.

You spread out eight folders.

“…warned by Roxxon’s own Betty Ross, Wanda Maximoff, and Kamala Khan. By Hammer’s Monica Rambeau and Kate Bishop. AIM’s doctors, Christine Palmer and Helen Cho, and finally, Pym Tech’s Mary Jane Watson—none of whom, I’m excited to say, work for you anymore.”

There’s a stunned heft to the frigidly controlled air in the large room. The florescent lights overhead buzz harshly.

“Are you fucking serious?” Killian rasps.

“Put your bitch back on her leash,” Rumlow bites to Steve.

“Don’t speak to her like—“

“Wait a minute,” Justin snorts, “I’m confused.”

“Your nerds will explain it to you once you crawl back into your hole.”

“Prec—” Steve snips in alarm but catches himself. He looks panicked and blind-sided, which he would be. You kept their complicity from him until you had everything you needed to invoke the morality clause.

You turn to the junior CEO for Pym Tech. “Expect a call from Hope Van Dyne. She has a few thoughts on Cross Technologies.”

Called out for his as-yet-unannounced rebranding of the company, Darren breaks, and he breaks viciously, vaulting the three chairs between you.

“Fucking cunt,” he screams through bared teeth.

Steve launches past the skittering seats and makes it to Cross milliseconds before he can intercept you.

“I didn’t make you lie, cheat, and steal,” you screech. “You screwed yourselves!”

Killian straightens his lapels and smooths his shirt nervously. “Surely, we can come to some arrangement.”

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Hammer adds.

Rumlow simply walks out with a shout of “you’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”

Steve slams Cross into the window, an ominous rattle shaking the frame, the cheek of the struggling man whining as it smears along the glass. When Darren still tries to hiss something else at you, Steve pins him against the wall instead, a forearm choking off any other choice words the bald man might offer.

“This meeting is over,” Steve grunts, pushing at Cross until the man settles.

“Right,” you sigh, keeping your voice as level as you can. “Gentlemen, I’d say get your houses in order, but I’m afraid the furniture is about to be repoed.”

Killian runs his hand through his styled hair. “Think I’ll leave you to talk some sense into your precious partner. Good day.”

You’ll never forgive Steve for blurting your private nickname out in front of the worst possible people to know it, but this is how you chose to play the meeting. You knew there’d be…pushback.

The AIM founder takes a lazy sip. “Thanks for the water, Rogers.” He taps his pinky ring several times on the glass, a hollow, high ting lingering after each strike, and then Aldrich heads for the door.

Steve releases Darren despite the wild look in his eyes, but Cross would be a fool to make any move except to leave. He gathers his things and slips through the exit before it fully closes.

The only one remaining is Justin Hammer, and he tosses out his arms with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Kitten, come on. This is crazy. Isn’t this crazy? We’re all friends here. Let’s just chill, relax, and work this out. How ‘bout a drink?” More snaps. More finger guns. “You want coffee? Alright, perfect. Love ya. We’ll have coffee.” The man fidgets, sweat visible on his lip and forehead when he turns in the window’s light and approaches the drink cart.

“Sure thing, Justin. I take my coffee like I take my women—“ you smile “—from you.”

Okay, that part just felt good.

“That—” Hammer’s brow raises and he wipes down his jaw with one hand “—now that was uncalled for.”

Steve cuts in, a solid dismissal in the form of “I said ‘the meeting’s over.’”

“Oh, boy. You—well, you better watch…This ain’t over.” Hammer makes a fuss of buttoning his jacket again, puffing out his chest, then walking off even more empty-handed than he arrived.

The enormous, heavy door shuts slowly on buzzing, bright silence.

After a pause, Steve heaves out a breath.

“That went well.”

Sarcasm is not one of his strengths.

You’re not sure what you expected. You stand as a block of granite decor in the corner you retreated to once shit hit the fan.

It was the right decision. This was the right thing to do, the moral thing. It’s in the goddamn contract.

Though physically he shows no signs of duress—Steve used very little of his actual muscle to subdue Darren,—he hangs his head, stepping to your spot at the table to look at what you brought in. After a pause, Steve rubs his temple like it aches.

“I…I have no words,” he mutters, tone inscrutable.

You don’t care if he has words or not. You only have to wait until they’re out of the building.

“I don’t understand. What just happened?”

The door opens to reveal a bored-looking Topaz.

“Boss, Stark sent a catered lunch over. Where should they set up? It’s shawarma.”

“I don’t care,” Steve bursts. “Just take it down to R&D or something!”

That’s your cue to leave.

You shut your mostly-empty portfolio and tuck it to your chest.

A hand wraps around your wrist, unyielding.

Steve’s stormy blue eyes are felt more than seen, his hold tightening, trying to inch you closer, but you rip away.

“I’ll send you a memo,” you tell Steve without looking directly at him. “Keep those. I have copies.”

Fast as you can in heels and a skirt, you hurry after Topaz and past the food, fleeing first to your office and then to your own home.

[Day 83: 6pm]

[tender first aid drabble; Big Girls Don't Cry]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Ahhhhh! Next up is how Steve makes it up to you...or at least starts to...😱😵‍💫🥴

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@bigtreefest @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

@fallinallinmendes @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses

#it had to be you series #ceo!steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #ceo!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #assistant!reader

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huffelpuff210 · 2 days

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Ours Soft Dark Stucky x Omega Reader

Soft Dark Alpha Stucky x Omega Reader

Warning: Stalking, kidnapping, drugging, confinement, dark themes, Non Con, man handling, threats, mentions of past abuse,

Summary: Day by Day Both Bucky and Steve feel like something is missing in their lives that is until they meet you.

You work as a RN at the nearby hospital, you were just leaving an agonizing fourteen hour shift, dead tired,

You were walking past a store, where there were TV’s you could watch from outside of the window,

The news was on,

“This is Becky reporting from Stark tower where in a few minutes Alpha Tony Stark is going to make his big announcement.” The news lady says,

You stand there with your arms crossed, a lot of people on the street were crowding around as well,

The Alpha’s in Stark tower are a big deal to everyone so when they make an announcement it’s normally a big uproar

Tony walks out to the stage,

“Good afternoon everyone, as everyone may have been aware, the decrease in Omega’s in the past decade have declined drastically.” He says

It was no secret that Omega’s appear less and less each year, in fact you read in the paper that there is 1 out of 5% that anyone would come across one, You were in fact one, but you take suppressants and wear a special perfume to mask the smell,

“So as of today, I have signed a bill passing that if you are an Omega you must register, due to the decrease in our species this law is in effect as of today.” Tony says

You eyes widen,

“We also have a stations in each clinic to ensure you can find a place to register.” He says

This made your blood boil, You didn’t like Alpha’s to begin with, Your father and brother’s made sure of that, always talking down to you like you were nothing compared to them, abusing you any chance they got, telling you, that you were nothing but a tool a mutt that your only purpose in life was to breed,

And here is another example of how much you hate and yet fear alpha’s they think they can control Omega’s,

“If any Omega’s fail to comply we will have no choice but to place you in a special program.” Tony says

“That will be all thank you.” He says walking off stage,

You shake your head and make your way to your apartment, but you couldn’t help this feeling that someone was watching you, You stop in your tracks, to look around listening, smelling, but there were too many scents, you brush it off as fatigue and paranoia.

You finally enter your apartment, it wasn’t much given the salary to make, barely scraping by, but it was the only way, the only way to avoid detection not just from Alpha’s but your family that has been on the hunt for you since you ran away when you were sixteen, you are now twenty one, but they still continue to hunt you like an animal,

All because you are an Omega,

After taking your suppressant and showering, you are laying in bed when a smell catches your attention, It smelled like pine, and cinnamon, you sit up quickly, it wasn’t your father or brother’s but you don’t notice the smell which causes you to panic,

You peek through the curtains not seeing a single person, you make sure everything is locked,

You peek out the peep hole at your door, no one,

You feel your heart rate slow down hoping you were just imagining it,

Bucky just couldn’t believe his luck, he was on his way to the tower, when a smell caught his attention, sure it was very faint but his sense of smell is stronger than most Alpha’s it smelled like vanilla with a hint of cedar

“Omega...” He whispers

He finds a small petite woman, with long dark hair and green eyes, she was beautiful, but by the smell she’s definitely on something she shouldn’t be on,

He opens his phone to call Steve as he follows her from a distance,

“Steve, Your not going to believe what I found.” He says with a smirk on his lips,

You didn’t go to work for a few days, you were getting paranoid, the smell kept getting stronger as if someone was in your apartment or on the fire escape at the window,

But your boss called you today, telling you if you didn’t come in today you were fired,

So you cautiously leave your apartment, just as you were locking the door an arm wrapped around your neck, with a hand covering your mouth,

You elbow the attacker causing him to grunt, but he didn’t loosen his grip,

“Shhh, sweetheart, we’re here now.” You hear a man’s voice whisper in your ear,

suddenly there was a jab of a needle in your upper arm, you watch as the liquid is injected in your arm,

“Everything will be alright.” Another voice says

you feel your limbs give way, and your vision blur slowly slipping into darkness,

Bucky catches you as you fall, picking you up bridal style, your head against his chest,

Steve moves your dark hair out of your face,

“She’s beautiful.” Steve says

“Told you.” Bucky says

“She’s light though.” Bucky says again,

“It’s alright she has us now.” Steve says placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder,

Bucky nods, as they both smile down at you

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buckymorelikefuckme · 3 days

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i’ve been watching those videos on youtube where those guys mow and clean up overgrown lawns and stuff (bc it’s calming and satisfying and my brain needs that so bad rn)

but it’s got me thinking…

you’ve just bought an adorable fixer-upper cottage, and the front yard and backyard are becoming miniature forests, so you call a few local lawn care services to see if anyone would be willing to take it on. you’re disappointed but not surprised when they all say no bc of how much work it’ll be. but then, the last place you call says sure, they’ll do it, and you’re so relieved and say thank you a million times. and then the guys show up to do the work, and…

i’m picturing ari, and steve, and maybe throw in my baby jake, and hell, might as well include curtis.

so you’re obviously like holy shit i’ve hit the jackpot??? and you’re quickly finding any and every excuse to be outside while they work. you offer to help, even though you don’t actually want to, and you’re half relieved half bummed when they politely decline. and then you bring out some ice cold water since they’re working in the blazing sun for hours on end. you ask them if they brought lunch, you could make something for them, it wouldn’t be a bother at all, please let me!

and tbh i don’t really know where i wanted this to go but just…. IMAGINE with me 😍🤤😵‍💫

#ari probably takes his shirt off at some point bc of course #and sweaty hairy chest is all you can think about for DAYS #and jakey’s cut off sleeves that show off his beefy biceps??? hoo boy #steve’s general rugged manliness is its own panty dropper #and curtis is quietly focused on the work #furrowed brows and a stern set to his jaw and mouth #but he gives you a killer small smile of thanks for the water #yeah…#somebody should write about this #(not it!!!)#poppy speaks #steve rogers fic #jake jensen fic #ari levinson fic #curtis everett fic #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

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witchywithwhiskey · 30 days

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the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were.

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved.

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him.

The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.

When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside.

On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.

Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart.

As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.

That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.

That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.

But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.

That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.

He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door.

Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume.

So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent.

Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.

Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit.

But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life.

Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help.

But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.

“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.

One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up.

That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.

Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you.

Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup.

He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come.

He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.

A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged.

Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.

Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing.

The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him.

But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.

Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.

Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.

Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat.

His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.

When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.

You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.

A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve.

The alpha next door was just so…sweet.

It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor.

And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.

Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?

It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet.

It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together.

You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard.

Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous.

Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun.

You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.

It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…

Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.

Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body.

Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.

The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically.

You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.

The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…

You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve.

“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due.

You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.

“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you.

The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it.

“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock.

You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.

It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!”

So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more.

It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun.

Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway.

Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.

Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve.

“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength.

Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together.

In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.

“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes.

Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.

Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.

Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.

He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands.

Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges.

Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.

Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.

You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.

At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…

God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you.

Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.

That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his.

You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy.

It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped.

“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you.

As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.

By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound.

But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.

“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole.

The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body.

Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.

“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.

He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.

With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy.

Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.

“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?”

As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot.

Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach.

“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.

“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in.

Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?”

Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.

“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.”

Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot.

You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.

You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it.

Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door.

The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible.

Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment.

Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.

“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words.

You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.

“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed.

“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”

You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt.

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!”

“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.”

“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast.

Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.

As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.

For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver.

Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet.

But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.

You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips.

“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer.

Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.

“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot.

It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.

“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.

When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr.

“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him.

“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness.

You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him.

“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.

The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.

Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.”

You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.”

Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate.

But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.

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navybrat817 · 2 months

Note

Steve + 9. "Don't even think about getting out of the car."

Oh, Eva. 🫠

Direct Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve doesn't like that you ignored his direct order.

Word Count: Almost 900

Warnings: Arguing, slight angst, stubbornness, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another overprotective prompt ficlet. Thanks, Eva! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The night air was cool and refreshing as you rolled the window down, but it went back up before you could appreciate the breeze against your skin. You shot Steve a glare who didn't acknowledge you as he drove. You didn't like uncomfortable silence, but you didn't attempt to fill the time with small talk. Not since he decided to rip you a new one in front of the team an hour ago.

You just wanted to go home.

“You have nothing to say?” Steve asked, his voice low. “Must be killing you to go this long without talking.”

You fought the urge to kick the dashboard since the car didn't do anything to you and smacking him could cause an accident. “And it must be killing you that I didn't fall in line today like a perfect little soldier,” you said with a sardonic smile. “Or would you prefer I act like a doll?”

“You ignored my direct order,” he growled as he gripped the steering wheel. For a moment you thought he’d bend or rip it away. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You sneered before facing forward. “Jesus Christ, give it a rest. You berated me enough on the quinjet and I don't need to hear it again.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough for you to see the anger brewing. “Damn right I berated you because you never listen to me.”

The tension thickened. You didn't typically argue with Steve. You went against him once and now he was saying you never listened to him? Where the hell did he get off?

“Don’t you dare lecture me about not listening to you when you’re the one who never listens to anyone,” you argued, feeling a hint of satisfaction when he clenched his jaw. “And I made the right call. I stand by that.”

The mission was a success because of your decision.

“You don't make the calls. That isn't your job,” he snapped, the tires squealing as he made a rough turn. “You could've been hurt or worse. Don't you get that?! You can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“But I wasn't hurt! And me being stubborn? Pot meet fucking kettle, Rogers!”

“Captain,” he said through his perfect teeth.

“Captain,” you scoffed, your blood boiling. “You are not my Captain right now. You're just some guy who wormed his way into driving me home after running his mouth.”

You shrieked when he slammed on the brakes, bracing yourself on the dash when he ran a hand through his blonde hair and bitterly chuckled. It was a foreign sound coming from him. One that made you shut your mouth. “Some guy? Now I’m just some guy?”

Concern flickered across your face. Yeah, you were mad, but you didn't have to push. “Steve. I mean, Captain, I-”

“I’m not just some guy and I’m not just your Captain,” he cut you off, stopping you when you reached for the door handle. “Don't even think about getting out of the car. We’re not done yet.”

“Why should I stay? So you can snap at me some more?” You mumbled. “Would you treat Bucky or Sam or anyone else like this?”

It wasn't fair to try and make him feel bad. He was your leader for a reason and he gave you an order. You didn't follow it. He had every right to be pissed off. By all means he had the right to bench you, too.

But why was he taking it personally?

All the anger fell from Steve’s face as he leaned across the seat more. “I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softened, too. “Why are you sorry?”

“For snapping the way I did,” he said with a shake of his head. “You just scared me today. I get scared every time you go into the field, but that was the first time you…”

“Didn’t listen,” you finished for him, your heart pounding when you realized just how close he was. If he leaned in any closer, his lips would be against yours.

“And you are right. I have a hard time listening to others myself,” he said, smiling when you snorted. “But I don't give you orders for you to act like a perfect soldier or doll. Just like I don't give Bucky or Sam or anyone else orders just to have things done my way. I do it to keep you as safe as possible. It would break my heart if something happened to you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes went wide. “Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” You asked, your stomach doing a funny flip.

He chuckled, the sound much warmer than before. “So, you do listen.”

“Most of the time,” you teased, staring into his eyes. You could see how much he cared. No wonder he took this mission to heart.

“Arguing aside, you did well,” he praised, which sent heat to your cheeks.

“Thank you, Captain. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’ll forgive you for ignoring my orders if you let me walk you to your door.”

“And I'll forgive you for snapping at me in front of the team if you come inside and have a drink,” you countered.

You didn't expect him to move his mouth to your ear. “I’ll only come inside if you say ‘please’,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. “And that's a direct order.”

Yes, sir. ❤️‍🔥 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans x reader #nomad!steve rogers #captain america

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buckys-wintersoldier · 1 month

Text

Heated training | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You’re training with Steve but when he is distracted and you push him down once again things become heated.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2.364

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, semi public sex, tiny bit angst, fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hiiii! Could you write a Steve x reader where they’re training and she’s like having to tackle him and straddle him and he gets a boner and things get heated and ya know some smut and maybe the reader is Tony’s daughter and somehow word gets out that something happened and there’s some angst in there. Hope you’re okay writing this, thank you !!❤️ @myersmaniac

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and hope you like what I made with it.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

It’s nothing new that the tall and muscular super soldier has a huge crush on you. He always takes care that his hair looks good and that he is shaved, loving the moments you look at him with a smile on your lips. The way you talk to him, when you need to look up because you’re so small compared to him. It’s at least nothing new to him that he is in love with you; he can’t even remember for how long he has already been in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you or anybody else something about it. Not only because you’re Tony Stark's daughter, but also because he doesn’t want to ruin things the two of you have — the wonderful friendship he appreciates.

Steve loves to work with you, spend time with you, or just be close to you. Also, when he can’t touch you in the way he would like to do it, even when he can’t feel your lips all over his body or just cuddle with you in the way he would like, he still enjoys when the two of you laugh and spend time together. Whenever you look at him with those shining eyes and the most adorable and sweet smile on your lips, he loves to hear you laugh, especially when he is the reason for it. He could look at you for hours, admiring you.

“Rogers! Concentration! Otherwise, she tackles you down immediately, again.”

He rolls his eyes over Nat’s comment, even though she is right. You have tackled him down in just a short time since he seems too deep in his thoughts today. He doesn’t really train; it’s more staring at you, trying to grip your wrists before you throw him down, but he often fails to grip your wrists and lands on the ground in no time. Steve’s cheeks are red, and sweat runs all over his face and along his neck. His broad chest and defined abs are covered in sweat as well, his skin softly glistening in the light of the training room.

“Yeah- yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes before he grips your fist and tries to push you down.

But Steve gets distracted by your lips — your beautiful plumb lips, which are slightly parted — and your eyes, which shine like the stars at night. He gets lost in your eyes, and a moment later he feels the mattress underneath his back. You’re sitting on top of him with a big smirk on your lips. You don’t miss the way he looks at you — the way his eyes are focused on your lips and his eyes are slightly darkened. You feel a tingle on your skin when he touches you, but you try not to focus on it during training; otherwise, you both would just stare at one another.

“Sorry guys, Clint is calling. You both don’t mind me picking up?” Natasha asks, already walking out of the door.

Steve, and you look after her. When the door shuts, Steve tries to wiggle you off of him, trying to turn the two of you around, but you grip his fists and press them above his head into the mattress. Moving a bit on top of him to have a better position to hold him in place.

“What stole your concentration today, huh?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“N—nothing,” he replies breathlessly, trying to free his hand out of your tight grasp.

You narrow even more and cause your nose to slightly scrunch. Steve chuckles, using the moment of your confusion to free his hands, and tries once again to turn the two of you around. Steve thrusts his hips up, his hands finding their way to your hips. His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants, holding it tightly before he lifts you up. But he hasn’t thought you would jump and let yourself fall down back on him, landing perfectly on his growing bulge in his pants and causing both of you to moan.

Steve's eyes widen immediately, and thoughts run through his mind to find an excuse why his dick is hard. When you look into his wide eyes, you’re just as big as his, gasping about the sudden feeling between your thighs.

“F— Sorry,” he mumbles, blushing slightly.

“Why do you have your phone? No, your keys are in your pocket?” You ask, confused, why he thought of putting it out of his pocket before you two started the training.

“I— That’s not my phone nor my key,” he admits quietly.

You narrow, tilting your head slightly to the side, until you realize what’s pressing against your soaked pussy. It doesn’t feel bad at all, but you didn’t know he felt that way for you, or at least he wouldn’t get a hard on during training. But you straddle him for a few minutes already, so it’s understandable that he gets hard when he is attracted to you and when you move in his cock.

You slowly move your hips, feeling his length rubbing against you. Maybe you should get off of him, but it feels too good to do so, so you’re moving slowly, looking deep into his eyes while you wait for Steve to stop you from grinding against him when he doesn’t like it. But he gasps and digs his finger more into your covered skin, helping you grind on his cock.

“Princess, we—we can’t.”

“Why not? Don’t you like it?” You ask, pouting while you stop your movements on his growing dick.

“I love it— I—I love you, but—“

His eyes widen even more when he realizes what he just said. His cheeks heat up, and he opens his mouth to form an apology, but there is nothing he has in mind to say. He’s adorable when he is shy and slightly embarrassed — not that you like seeing him embarrassed around you, just that his lips are slightly parted, his blue eyes look so lovely but at the same time unsure, and his red cheeks — just hot and cute at the same time. First he got hard while training, and now he told you he loves you; he would face palm himself when his hands wouldn’t be clued to your waist, not wanting to let go of you because you could move away from his cock.

Your smirk grows when you lean closer, your lips just an inch away from his, and you can feel his warm breath on your sweaty skin. Steve closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he lifts his head and breaks the distance between your lips. His soft, pink lips move perfectly against yours, and he licks over your lips to ask for access. You’re parting your lips, and you're deepening the kiss until both of you need to pull away to breathe deeply.

“I love you too. Please— I need you, Stevie,” you mumble, moving your hips harder on his covered cock.

Steve groans, throwing his head back and giving you more space to kiss and bite into the soft skin of his neck. You lick a strap along his neck, chasing him to close his eyes and thrust his hips up. His bulge presses more against your covered pussy, and you moan softly.

“Everyone could see us!” He breathes heavily, looking through his lashes at you.

You sit up and smirk when your hands slide over his broad chest, and you start moving your hips at a fast but steady pace over his dick. He is panting underneath you; with his hands, he helps you to move on top of him, pushing you further down to cause more friction.

“S—Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper.

The tip of his cock is hitting your clit with every thrust, and you push both of you closer to your edge. He didn’t know it could feel that good without being inside of you, but it does, and he is just as close as you.

“Tell me we’re going to get in your room and do it again; tell me you’re mine,” Steve says, slowing your hips down.

Pre-cum is soaking his pants, and he just wants to push you more on his cock and guide you over it to make both of you come, but he wants to hear that you’re his.

“So possessive, huh?” You ask, teasingly.”

His answer is just a harsh movement of his hips. You moan and throw your head back, trying to move faster, but he stops you with his grasp.

“S— Stevie. We can do it as often as you want; I’m yours— I’m all yours, but please let me come,” you whine.

Steve grins, moving your hips faster on his dick and bringing you closer to the edge. It doesn’t take long for the two of you until you’re coming, clenching around nothing while Steve is soaking his pants with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily and calming down from your high when you hear someone coming back into the room.

“G— What are you two doing, sitting like that and doing nothing?” Tony asks, narrowing.

Steve chuckles, nodding his head. Tony just wants to inform you that you are going to have a meeting, but seeing you on top of Steve, straddling him, wasn’t something he expected to see when he came into the training room. Actually, the two of you are always trying to tackle one another.

“Oke—“ he pauses, nodding his head and inhaling. “Meeting.”

With that, he leaves the room, and you laugh. Your brother’s expression was just too funny. You lean down, capture Steve’s lips, and kiss him softly.

“After the meeting, I’m all yours.”

“You’re already mine, but then we repeat that here without clothes.”

You then get off of Steve. The blond-haired man looks at the wet spot on his pants and smirks when he sees you staring at his covered cock. You both take a shower because you get ready for the meeting Tony told you about — next mission, which isn’t really interesting for you since you only have your eyes on one another.

Steve and you have been secretly dating for a few weeks now. You often spend time together, which isn’t new to see for the others. Even when you smile in another way, your gazes are different — happier — but no one really asks about it. They are just happy that Steve and you are happy — still thinking you’re best friends.

When Tony asks you to come into his office because he wants to talk with you, you have a huge smile on your face. When you knock at the door and swing it open, you freeze immediately. Steve is sitting there in front of your father, who looks angry, and you swallow hard. The smile fades away, and you look slightly confused.

“Come in and close the door.”

You do as you’re told; you close the door behind you and walk toward the men, letting yourself fall down next to Steve on a chair. Tony looks at you before he moves to face Steve; he then points at the monitor on the desk in front of you.

When your father turns on the video, you gasp, your eyes widen, and your hands get sweaty. You hear Steve inhaling deeply next to you. He swallows hard and slides down in his chair. The video that Tony is showing of the two of you shows Steve and you making out on the floor before you pull him with you into your room.

You know Tony isn’t a friend of the men around you; he is protective and doesn’t want someone to hurt you. He already made your ex-boyfriend run away because he was afraid of Tony’s Iron Man suit walking without him inside the suit.

“D—Dad, I would say i—it’s not what it looks like what Steve and I did, but it is. B—“

“Rogers!” Tony says, his jaw clenching when he looks at your boyfriend.

“Tony, I—I don’t want to hurt her. I—I love her,” Steve says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, afraid of what your father could say.

Steve sighs, looking down and inhaling deeply. He rubs his hands over his pants and sighs once again before he continues to speak.

“I would never do anything she didn’t want to. Tony, I love her.”

You smile softly, but your body is still tensed, and you don’t dare look at Steve. Tony nods, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk.

“Do you love him?” He asks, looking at you, and you nod, then he turns his face back to Steve. “When you hurt her, I will cut your balls off!”

Steve doesn’t know if he wants to smile or swallow hard, but he smiles, nodding and turning toward you. He places his hand in front of you, waiting until you place yours in his big one before he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your soft skin. Tony rolls playfully with his eyes, watching the two of you when you lean in to press your lips against Steve’s, soft and sweet.

"First, the gentleman an— Get a room!” Tony shouts, and you burst out laughing about the way he raises his eyebrows and grasps the surface of the table.

“We will,” you tell him, smirking when you get up and pull Steve with you.

With a wink at Tony, you make your way to the door of his office, leaving it. Before you can walk further through the floor, Steve pushes you against the wall behind you, attacking your lips with his.

“I love you so much, princess.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

With that, he lifts you up and carries you into your bedroom, continuing what you have seen in the video Tony shows the two of you. And you’re glad he accepts what you have with Steve, because it’s special, and you’re happier than you ever have been since you've been with Steve. He treats you like a princess, like his perfect and sweet princess.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77@bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @pono-pura-vida @princesscore-angel

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 months

Note

Breeding Kink Steve/Bucky eventho you already have a couple of kids 🫣

hi baby! I'm so sorry for taking so long, I hope you like what I wrote.

summary - breeding kink gone wild, your husbands take it to the next level by forever wanting you to carry their child.

warning - smut, breeding kink, sorta dubcon but not really, mentions of pregnancy, creampie, threesome.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“C’mon, Doll. Let us pump you full, want you to have our babies.” Bucky groans in your ear, pressed against your back where you can feel his bulge. You whine, letting out a breathy whimper as Steve grips your hips, pressing soft kisses to your neck, occasionally marking it as well.

“What do you say, Sweetheart? Wanna be full of our cum?”

You squirm, vision becoming hazy as lust clouds your mind. “B–but, we already have two…” Your head falls back, moaning loudly as their cocks slide inside of you without much warning. You didn’t even see them take their cocks out. Your cunt clenches around them, arousal dripping down their thick members, making it easier for them to thrust into you.

“Doesn’t matter, Doll. We wanna breed you forever and watch you grow with our child.” Bucky thrusts in and out, hands sliding up your body until they grasp your breasts. His moans so close to your ear that it causes tingles to spread throughout your body, your cunt clenching around your men.

Steve groans, biting down on his bottom lip hard as he looks down at you with dark eyes. Your own cloudy ones connect with his, lips parting as you feel them pulse inside of you, gripping them tightly when they hit your sweet spot. Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and groans slip past his lips as he pounds into you hard and fast, feeling your little cunt clench around him from his brutal thrusts.

They continue to have their way with you, fucking you so hard that you see stars. Your juices squirt out of you, causing their cocks to twitch and pump you full of their cum once again. Filling you with large amounts that will likely be the cause of your next pregnancy. Steve and Bucky take turns kissing your lips before cleaning you up. They lay you down on your large bed and grin as they caress your stomach, waiting for the moment you pop this one out for them to start all over again.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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ronearoundblindly · 1 month

Text

Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #500+#steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x female reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #hurt/comfort

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dungeonpuppykai · 2 months

Text

| Too Sweet |

Description: You and Steve try to put 'it' in for the first time after his serum procedure.

Pairing: Soft-Dark 40's Post-Serum Steve Rogers | Lover!You.

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Steve, 40's misogyny and courting bc let's be so fr, obsession, daddy kink, allusions to spanking, dumbification, power imbalance, corruption kink, fluffy smut, p-in-v penetration that y'all are STRUGGLING with, dash of breeding kink, they love each other, smut with plot.

Note: @chxrryhansen 's new Too Sweet Steve edit is responsible for this and she doesn't even know it, pfft!

"Steve!" Your protest is half giggle and half whine as you wince before landing a punishing smack to your lover's shoulders. "Ouch!" His body is also vibrating due to the humor that the two of you find in this strange situation.

"Come on, baby" he rasps out against your ear, his elbow that presses into your pillow besides your head causing it to dip towards itself. "I am trying my best here, bear with me a little" try he sure is doing. You can almost feel him fighting against his impulse to just fuck all and push inside your tiny entrance that has never faced a girth this big.

"I knowww~" you whine as you press your knees against his sides that have become wide and muscular since the procedure. "But it's still ouchie" Steve sighs as he freezes the little bit of pushing that he was doing.

You feel bad, you really do.

Because it is as hard for you to hold back as it is for him.

Pressed up against your lover that you haven't properly had like this in a week, your bare skins nearly leeched to each other's, one of his rough manly hands fondling your breasts as the one he's holding up his heavy body with strokes your hair to comfort you, the feeling of his stern muscles digging into the tender insides of your thighs and then his cock that you need to save your life at this point so close to your weeping walls yet so far away that you can lose your mind from the frustration.

But it just hurts so fucking much!

You had always thought your lover's size to be a decent one because it kept you satisfied and very happy.

But now…

This.

You did not want to be an ungrateful brat, as Steve would say, because you weren't a stranger to the valor that he held for his country and you had always done your best to cheer him on so you weren't to be misunderstood.

But good Lord above, they had swapped your cotton candy lover for a rough and tough beast who couldn't bear you being out of his sight for more than a few minutes.

It seemed that whatever voodoo they worked in that fancy machine had also amplified his obsession with you, like everything else.

Steve sighs as he kisses your cheek softly. You understand that he's a man and he has his needs that he has been compromising for a week because you recoil at the sight of his cock each time he tries to seduce you. "I've already stretched you out with three fingers, baby. At this point I might as well put my fist in there" you're on thin ice and you know it.

No man is as considerate as he has been all these days as it is.

Your cheeks burn and you flush hotly in embarrassment, letting out another whine as a result before landing a flustered punch on his arm. "I- It's not my fault if your fist would still be smaller than your dick!" Though your tone is one that has gotten you bent across his lap more times than you can count, the manner in which the indirect praise boosts his ego saves you this one time.

And his fingers weren't the easiest thing in the world either because they've grown three times their size!

"Aw, is Daddy's cock too big for your little baby pussy, honey?" You cannot help but let out a horrified guffaw as you cover your mouth, eyes wide.

"Oh, my GOD, Steve!" He is grinning at how appalled you look because of his obscene words. "Stop with that! I told you the other day that it's not right!" You have no idea how, but two months ago your lover had picked up this strange pet name for himself that he liked to use whenever you two were having an intimate moment.

"Oh, but baby" your back arches in an instant as you grunt and feel your claws fly to his shoulders that they dig into. He has started to push again. But your pussy is nearly as stubborn as he is, it seems. Because neither wants to back down. "Who put it in your pretty little head that you can decide what's right and wrong around here?"

Your thighs tremble at the authority in his tone and you whine, feeling your ass cheeks clench at the way the girth of his tip feels around your sore band of muscles. Fuck, this is like losing your virginity all over again but only worse.

You almost feel mad at yourself.

Because you're so wet and prepared.

Ready.

Just why can't it go where you need it most?!

"N- No…" The smell of his shampoo hits your nose when he dips his head into the crook of your neck to make a new love bite, both to try and distract you as well as mark you as his. "D- Didn't mean that, Shtevie, sowwy~" you mumble meekly and he deeply hums against your skin.

"Good girl" if it weren't for the way in which one of his hands lovingly caress your scalp, you would have teared up due to how small you suddenly feel. "Now shush up for Daddy and let him do this bratty little pussy in" an involuntary gasp leaves you again but you suppress it by kissing his moist temple so he can't hear it and think you are being disrespectful. Your baby pussy has irritated him enough this past whole week already.

"Owiee…" You grunt again as you feel it breach its way into the initial curve as it has been doing for hours now. "S- So big, Daddy" what? No! You're not like your naughty lover! Y- You're just trying to somehow calm him down so you don't get in trouble!

Like you did when you initially did not respond to his unrelenting advances in school and he ended up scoring really low in a test because of that so he dragged you out of drama class to bend you over and teach you a thing or two about manners and how to treat those who are nice to you. Then he made you apologize, kiss his cheek and cook him dinner at your house to make it up to him.

You are glad he did that though, because Steve is your once in a lifetime and there can never be another like him.

He just knows best.

But that doesn't mean you are okay with getting punished just because your pussy is too tiny!

"Good babygirl" your lover grunts against your nipple that his mouth is latched onto now, hips doing their best to not damage you but still weasel his cock past the hard round shaped barricade of your pubic bone. "I know it's scary but you can trust Daddy because he knows that if that pretty little pussy can push out his brats one day, it can surely take this cock too." Steve loves how you shudder under him at the thought but still answer him Yes, Daddy.

Because you are all his to do with whatever he pleases.

That is the reason why he shook hands with HYDRA and wiped out SHIELD the day he was transformed.

Because HYDRA had promised him a comfortable future with you where he would not have to part with you for too long but still provide you the life that you truly deserved as his sweet little girl who loved and accepted him in a state that everyone had treated as a laughing stock.

You were worthy of the world.

And he was determined to give it to you.

I didn't mention the hydra plot twist up there because well, surprise!

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

Text

IF YOU’RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW)- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: Uni! Nerd! Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: you’re the new girl at school, and the more steve rogers sees you, the more his crush grows. after a few weeks of texting, a date is set. but he doesn't hook up on the first date, because that's not being a gentleman. right?

Warnings: SMUT, pure filth, praise kink, slight degradation, daddy kink, spanking, cum play, dry humping, dirty talk, manhandling, petnames, swearing, biting/ marking, size kink, but lots of fluff :))

“maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes, im not playing with you baby- i think that you should give it a go. she said, maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes... i wanna see and stop thinking if youre too shy, then let me know”- if youre too shy (let me know), the 1975

“She's so beautiful Buck. You’ll just love her.” Steve insisted, baby blues all wide and excited, cheeks tinted pink as he ran his hands through his blonde locks, tugging on the strands a bit harder than he’d normally- the butterflies plaguing his muscles.

He had never felt so in love, and he hadn't even talked to you in person yet. It was a sickness, the love drunk that had occurred, no amount of Advil or water the cure to the hangover.

Bucky was sick of him. He was sure of it.

He had blabbed about you for weeks now, seeming to go in a daze as he’d ramble on. Mhmm. Well, just talk to her after class Steve!

He’d just shake his head. He couldn't just do that! How could he? You were so alluring, a siren calling him out from sea. Steve just couldn't… the courage he had always had seeming to come to a halt. It was abrupt, a deer in headlights as he watched you walk into the lecture hall.

The new girl. Full of spunk and energy, a bright smile on your face as you looked around the room, meeting his eye. He offered you a small smile, a little wave before you found your place near the front.

You matched his energy well. So well, he was scared you weren't even real. Her name is Y/N. You want her number or something? His friend Natasha had asked him earlier that month, nudging his shoulder to gather his attention again. Sorry. Yes, please. He was too busy daydreaming about you again, gaze drifting off to the endless rows of books in the old library.

Steve had been anxious to send the text, his endless pacing back and forth enough to drive Bucky straight up the wall. He had never seen the man so nervous. Especially over a girl.

Should I do it? What do I say? Is this weird? Shut the fuck up already and send something Rogers you're driving me insane. He had replied, smacking a pillow over his head to tune Steve out. He gathered his wits about him, taking a deep breath before he hit send.

hey, it’s steve, from tuesdays class. not sure if you remember me, but i’m the blonde who waved lol. i got your number from a friend, hope thats okay:)

There. He had done it! Now was the waiting. But it didn’t last long, as his phone buzzed in his pocket only a few minutes later.

hey you! yes yes, i remember. i’m Y/N <3

I know, he wanted to say. Instead, he acted dumb. Dumb and sweet was the way to your heart he found out later, all the sweet messages and daily photos of each other's day blossomed into something more than just classmates.

But he still hadn't talked to you in person yet. And he knew you were too shy to say anything first- so it was just a waiting game. Finally, all these days later- he had asked you on a date.

Nothing major. Nothing fancy. Just coffee, and a walk around the villa. Simple and fun, Bucky had reassured, thankful his best friend had finally made the move. He was blind if he thought you weren't into him. Blind and stupid.

Bucky walked with him now, bundling his jacket tighter around himself as the slight breeze ruffled his hair. It was a cool evening, but not freezing- a perfect happy medium for the season.

“I’m sure she is. Since you never seem to shut up about her.” Bucky teased, resulting in a smack across the arm from Steve.

“I’m serious man. I’m just so anxious about this. What if she actually like.. hates me or something?”

“Impossible. And if anything goes wrong, I’m just three blocks away.” Bucky shrugged, as Steve’s phone buzzed.

five mins away :)

“She’s almost here.” he sighed, starting to fidget with his rings as Bucky dropped him off at the cafe's doors. He had never felt this tense before a date, which he knew meant he really, really liked you. The countless times he had stalked your social media and hours of sleep he lost due to waiting to hear back from you had proved that.

So what could possibly go wrong?

“Well get a table, talk about the weather- and it’ll be all good from there.”

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“And so I told him no, because like what? That's not just something you do at a gas station?” you laughed, making Steve nearly choke on his coffee. You were so happy to be sitting with the man you had been swooning over for weeks now, heart fluttering the second the two of you locked eyes in the lecture hall.

He was dreamy, gush-worthy standards. And now here he was, so many days later- sitting in front of you with a cup of coffee in hand. You had examined his choice of drink very carefully, knowing that could reflect on many things. Just as many other little things did, like if he slept with socks on or if he only picked the m&ms out of trail mix.

Steve had a safe, solid choice- two creams and one sugar. Dark roast. You knew he was a good one.

“I’m sure. Jesus people are crazy.” he snorted, swirling the little wooden stir stick around in his coffee as he admired you. You felt yourself start to fold in on itself the longer he gazed at you, stare so deep and meaningful you were scared you'd start giggling and kicking your feet right there.

You wouldn't be surprised if you did. Steve had that effect on you, always making you swoon from across the class, each text he sent making you smile. He had a heart next to his contact name, for god's sake. But there was no way in hell you'd tell him that. At least not on the first date.

You weren't even sure if he liked you back- as sometimes flirting flew straight over your head. You were funny like that sometimes. But tonight had seemed to have gone well, at least in your mind. The two of you had been talking for hours, getting little pastries and new drinks to try throughout the evening. It was dark out now, the moon high in the sky, shining down on the little vintage cafe with its dozens of tealights and oil lamps.

You sipped your drink, still hot on the tongue as you met his stare. He smiled. That goddamn, cheeky smile that kept you up at night. One that screamed danger, and mischief and everything you wanted. A thrill, an adventure. Something fun- something your small town refused to offer.

“Whatta thinking about?” he asked, breaking the easy silence that lingered over the pair of you like a veil. Like you were in your own little bubble, where no one could touch you.

“Just you. And how you're different.” His eyebrow quirked up. “How so?”

“ Well you haven't asked me to take off my clothes. Or made any sexual comments. Or said ‘maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes’, so I like you.” you said, taking another sip of coffee to let those words digest.

He just smiled, shaking his head slowly. “Well of course not. I mean, not that you aren't beautiful and so fucking hot and I mean-”

You laughed.

“Okay, you know what I’m getting at. But what I’m trying to say is that I’m a gentleman. And I would never ask that of you if you didn’t want it.” A sly grin tugged at your lips, legs crossing under the table as you squeezed your thighs together.

“What if I want it?”

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“I don’t normally do this on the first date ya know.” Steve murmured against your neck, breath hot as he kissed down your neck, grip tightening around your thighs as he hosted you up against the wall.

It had been a few hours later, some odd hour in the night after the coffee and the little walk down the side streets, popping into old bookstores and antique stores where he watched you marvel over little things like signed paperbacks and old purses his great grandma probably had. He was infatuated with you.

Somehow his hand had ended up intertwined with yours, your arm bumping his as he walked you back to your place. Do you… maybe wanna come inside? You had asked, little doe eyes wide, voice as soft as silk. How could he say no? He never said no to you.

Now here he was, dry humping you in your entranceway, barely two steps in the door before your lips had met his. You were drawn to him like a magnet, falling under his spell as your neck rolled back against the plaster, letting him have more access.

“No? Wanting to keep up your gentlemanly acts? Promise I won't tell.” you teased, breath hitching as he traced your collarbone with his nose, finally sinking his teeth into the soft skin. Your hips rolled against his lower abs, desperate for any friction you could get.

“Pinky promise?” he breathed, causing a moan to escape your parted lips as he squeezed your skin, licking the teeth marks as he dipped his mouth even lower.

“P-pinky.” you stuttered. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly, movements blurring as if he was switching the lenses on your eyesight. Hands were on your ass, in his hair, tugging on those beautiful long strands to then wrap around his neck.

Teeth clashed with tongue as he devoured you whole, and you felt as if you were on a carnival ride as he spun you over to your bedroom. You prayed he didn’t notice the piles of old, dog-eared books that were piled against the wall so high they were on the verge of toppling over, or your cluttered nightstand with so many candles and jewelry it had no other purpose. Steve didn’t seem to mind the mess, solely focused on how your breath sounded when it was uneven and when you were flustered, the giggles that emerged when he tossed you down on the sheets like a sack of potatoes.

You liked being manhandled by him. You liked how he had wasted no time throwing you up against the wall, taking charge in such a respectful, yet sexy manner. This had only happened in your late-night thoughts, little flirty texts that you had sent when you got the courage past eleven pm nothing compared to this. You had always wondered what he would be like in bed, ever since you stepped foot in that classroom. It didn’t disappoint in the slightest.

“God you're so- so fucking hot. You know how many times I've thought of this? Hearing your little noises when I make you feel good?” You whined. He groaned, tugging off your pants.

“Yeah. Yeah, fuck like that baby. You’re such a good girl for me aren't you?”

There it was. That was the money shot. Something in your demeanor shifted, eyes wide as you nodded frantically. Yes. Yes, you were and he knew it. “Please Steve just-”

“Just what angel face? Hmm? Fuck you?” he antagonized you, as if he was talking to a mere child.

“Please. Please fuck.” The words had barely left your lips before he grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you were presented to him, ass in the air, face deep in the sheets. Your shirt had yet to come off, but you had a feeling it was going to meet your bottoms on the hardwood, the two of you too desperate to both with the flimsy article of clothing.

“God you're so easy to manhandle. You like that huh? Being tossed around like a slut?”

“Mhmmm god yes..” you moaned, letting out a quick yelp as he smacked your ass lightly, your hands curling into tight little fists as you gripped the blankets. You could feel the breath get trapped in your lungs as he kissed the skin he had just slightly marked, lips like a cooling serum to the heat in your belly.

“Breathe angel. Just breathe for me yea? You tell me when it’s too much.”

“What, don’t wanna get too freaky on the first date?” you chriped out, making him laugh.

“Something like that.”

“I like this, ya know. I like you. And I don’t feel shy around you, like I have with other people. You’re good to me, Steve.”

He smiled softly, chest blooming with warmth at your reassuring words. He was so happy. All he wanted was for you to feel comfortable around him, to feel wanted. Because he wanted you. Oh, gods did he ever want you.

“Good.” was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. “Fuck. Fuck fuck you feel so fucking good.” was all he could moan, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed around him, adjusting to his size.

He was big. Like extremely big. All you could do was whimper, praying to every god that was out there that you could take him.

“S’big Stevie. M’all full.” you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words. “Yea baby? I’m just so much bigger than you- aren't I? Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use.”

He brushed your g-spot as his hips began to snap, cock drilling into you so fast you swore you saw stars. All you could do was hold onto the bed, allowing your body to fall limp, going slack as he used you.

“You're so good. Such a good, good princess.” he praised, large hand pressed down slightly on your back as you arched, moans muffling into the sheets. You prayed your neighbors weren't home, or else you knew you'd get the dirty looks and silent treatment tomorrow.

Totally worth it, you thought with a dazed-out smile, listening to the sounds of the bed drilling against the wall, springs squeaking in time with his groans, the squelching wet noises of your juices coating his cock.

“M’not gonna last.” you whimpered softly. “S’okay baby. Be a good girl and cum f’me okay poppet?”

You nodded, rumpled sheets bunching tighter between your closed fists as you squeezed him so tight it was suffocating, your clit pulsing a steady rhythm as you came with a cry.

“Atta girl. Milking me dry baby, you really needed that didn’t you?”

“Y-yea Daddy..”

Heat rose to your cheeks. The name had rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, the filter that normally was placed over your words now gone in your dazed-out state. What if you fucked up? That wasn't supposed to come out.

“F-fuck. Daddy huh? I should've known you’d like that shit. Not as much as me though baby.” he growled, grabbing your hips harshly, his thrusts becoming harder, quicker, more erratic.

“Daddy’s making you feel so good hm?”

“So good Daddy. Want you to fuck me alll the timee.” you giggled softly, whining as you felt him slip out of your abused hole.

“Wha-”

“Shhh poppet. I didn’t bring any condoms with me and we aren't risking it on the first date.” he shushed you, spilling his seed onto your lower back, stilling your wiggling movements as you begged.

You felt the warm, white liquid ooze against your skin, dribbling down your ass as you wiggled it. The pad of Steve's fingers made you jump, the soft, gentle touch adding even more to the post-orgasm haze.

“I-I have some in my drawer for next time.” He trailed his fingers against the delicate skin, smearing the cum down your thighs, giving you a quick little smack.

“Good to know sweetheart.” he smiled, watching as you slowly turned to face him, doe eyes wide, lips parted slightly.

“So when’s the next date?”

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anonymityisfunwriter · 3 months

Text

"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a

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chxrryhansen · 3 months

Note

Steve with a MASSIVE breeding kink mmmmffffgggg…. 🤤

- 🌸

hi baby🥺 i’m so sorry that it took me this long to get to your ask, steve is such a family man so this always makes me go wild.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

“oh fuckkk”

you moaned as steve continued to thrust inside of you, hitting your cervix and bottoming out with each thrust.

“yeah, you like that? you like it when daddy fucks this slutty hole?” he taunted from above, his blond locks sticking to his forehead in concentration, angling his hips just right, hitting your g spot.

“love it daddy, so so much, you fuck me s’ good.” you whined, hips writhing on his thick length.

he let out a deep groan as your cunt clenched around him, “such a good little whore for daddy, always letting me fill you up with my fat cock.. maybe it’s about time you let me fill that pretty pussy with somethn’ else, hmm?”

you threw your head back in ecstasy at the thought of how good his cum filling you up would feel, letting out a high pitch, almost pornographic moan.

“fuck. you love idea of that, huh baby? it’s okay, daddy’s gonna’ fuck this slutty cunt til’ my cums leakin’ down your legs for days. can’t wait to see your tummy grow n’ watch you mother my children.” he growled, his arm wrapping around your throat, squeezing harshly, forcing you to look up at him.

the room echoed with the sound of skin clapping, his hips pummelling against your ass, sure to leave bruises from the brutal force of his thrusts.

“please can i cum, daddy? wanna’ cum s’ bad.” you managed to choke out against his harsh grip.

“such a greedy girl, go ahead baby, soak daddy’s cock.”

you let out a scream as you came, the knot in your stomach finally letting loose, your cream forming a white ring around the base of steve’s shaft.

“shittt. look at the mess you made, sweet girl. creaming all over daddy’s cock like a fuckin’ whore. squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ vice, fuck. you’re gonna’ make me cum. gonna’ breed this pussy so good, get your belly all swollen n’ full of my kids.” he breathed, his abs tightening as his load came shooting out, ropes of hot, sticky, cum filling your cunt to the brim. still continuing to cum as it began leaking out of your pussy and down your thighs.

he always did stay true to his word.

#🌸anon #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #steve rogers fic #chris evans fic #cevans prompt

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Text

Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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buckys-wintersoldier · 1 month

Text

Grumpy old man | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> BestFriend!Steve Rogers x BestFriend!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Steve is grumpy all day since he had seen you with an agent who is better known as a playboy.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.159

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> allusion of smut, fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> hiii darling! so I've a request for Steve Rogers🥰 smutty Steve thing. best friends to lovers? Maybe Steve sees "his" girl talking with another agent or something ( platonic) and he's a bit jealous? She could find him being grumpy as hell all day so she goes to his room ask what's wrong?so the feelings and jealousy just comes out and he tells her how much he's in love? She can kiss him to shut him up? and leads to smut? Lots of love 🥰🥰 @rogersbarber

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the requests. It’s not with a lot of smut but I hope you still like what I made with your request.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 1K Follower Special | “Me and.… are just friends. You’re kidding, right? …. looks at you like you’re their entire world.” | @lives-in-midgard

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Blue eyes piercing in your back, he narrows and his jaw is clenched while he looks at you talking to another agent. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous — you’re best friends — but he just can’t help himself feeling that way. Especially when you’re talking to the agent, who is better known as the playboy.

Usually Steve isn’t a man who gets jealous, maybe because he doesn’t like a woman the way he likes you. But the two of you have been best friends forever, and he doesn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you because he fell for you. Little does he know that you’re just as much in love with him, and even though you like talking to the agents, none of them is like Steve or could give you the feelings you feel when he is around you or touches you. Even the slightest touch of him causes a desire inside of you.

Steve hums, rolling his eyes, when you hug the agents before you turn around and see Steve waving at him. He doesn’t wave at you; he just looks at you with narrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw. In his hand, he holds a piece of cake, which he squeezes, breaking it and letting it fall on the surface of the table.

“Hey, grumpy. What’s wrong, huh?” You ask teasingly, but Steve doesn’t answer.

He takes a bite of the cake, filling his mouth with it over and over again. You giggle slightly, taking a seat next to him and facing him. You look at him while he eats the cake with his grumpy expression.

When he’s finished and still doesn’t answer you, you place your hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a pout on your lips. Steve also ignores that one; he just turns away, gets up from the chair, and walks along the floor to his room.

“He’s been grumpy all day, hasn’t he?” Natasha asks, and you nod.

She is standing at the door, looking after Steve, before she turns toward you and walks closer, taking a seat in the chair next to you. She smiles at you, placing her warm, encouraging hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe you should talk with him.”

“About what? He didn’t tell me why he was grumpy.”

“Don’t act like you’re stupid; we both know you’re not stupid,” she says, but you just furrow in confusion. “Everyone can see that you like him, and he likes you.”

“Me and Steve are just best friends,” you say, smiling when you think about the man who owns your heart.

“You’re kidding, right?” She asks, but you shake your head.

Even when you could imagine being more than just friends, Steve probably doesn’t feel the same way about you. And you don’t want to tell him because when he doesn’t feel the same, it could ruin your friendship. So you just keep it to yourself and admire the older man whenever he is around you; you enjoy his soft touches or the cuddles during your movie nights.

“Steve looks at you like you’re his entire world.”

You gasp. Does he really look at you like that? Could he do it because he likes you more than you think, or is he just looking at you like that because that’s what best friends are doing? You’re too deep in your thoughts to realize another word that Natasha says until he taps your shoulder and brings you back into reality.

She turns the chair around and pushes you up, making you stand in front of her and look in the direction of the floor. Natasha rolls her eyes, chucking softly while she gets up as well, and pushes you in front of her through the room.

“Nat— I don’t think I should tell him now. Haven’t you seen how grumpy he was?” You ask, thinking to stop Natasha from pushing you further through the floor.

Before you can say something else, you’re standing in front of Steve’s door. Natasha knocks at the door, and then she walks to her room. Just in time, she closed her door when Steve opened it in front of you. He is still looking at you with his grumpy expression, and it makes him look pretty cute. You can’t stop yourself from giggling softly.

“Stevie,” you say, and he just nods.

“Wanna come in?”

He takes a step to the side, making space for you to enter the room before he closes the door behind you. You’re inhaling his scent deeply; it immediately relaxes you, and you walk with him to his bed, letting yourself fall down on it. Steve sits next to you, his back resting against the head board while he looks at you. His blue eyes are glistening, and a small smile appears on his lips when your eyes meet.

“Why are you so grumpy today?”

Steve’s gaze drops, his smile fades away, and he plays with his fingers in his lap. He always does when he is nervous, and you place your hand on his leg and draw small circles on it to clam him down. Steve wants to tell you what’s wrong and why he is grumpy, but he doesn’t know how. His hands are shaking and sweating, and he needs to rub them over his pants covered thighs to dry them. Steve sighs, swallowing harshly; his cheeks heat up, and then he looks at you.

“I—you've just talked with him. He is a playboy, and you were so close to him,” Steve says, lifting his hands.

He slides his fingers through his soft blond hair. Steve sighs deeply, looking away before he turns to face you again.

“He will only fuck you. He— he doesn’t like you like—“

“Like what, Steve?” You ask with a smile.

“Like I do.”

He turns away, blushing immediately. He rubs his hands once again over his pants. You smirk, turning around and getting on his lap. Steve looks confused for a moment, but when you capture his cheeks with your hand, he smiles softly. He leans closer, his breath hitting your lips, and you shiver slightly. Steve breaks the distance between the two of you, pressing his soft lips on yours and his hands finding their way to your hips.

Steve pulls you closer until you’re sitting on his growing bulge. It’s pressing uncomfortably in his pants and causes some friction between your legs when you slowly move your hips against him. You moan softly while Steve pulls away and looks with desire in his blue eyes into yours.

“I’m in love with you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

You smirk when you rock your hips against him, and he moans. Steve looks through his lashes, pushing his hips up to meet yours. His hands roam over your body, and he kisses along your neck, causing you to moan louder and rock your hips harder against his length.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

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georgiapeach30513 · 10 months

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Your Mark On Me, Part 1

Summary: when you need something to help you stay alert study, you found a whole lot more than you were looking for. Tatted and massive. He was what your dreams were made of, but is he a nightmare? He claimed you, and now he intends on keeping you. No matter what the cost.

Pairings: Tattooed!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, selling drugs, taking drugs (adderall/marijuana), non con/dub con thigh riding, thigh riding with an audience, taunting, threating, a bit of degradation, teasing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.3K

Series Masterlist

*Tattoo edit by the amazing @randomagnes0210

Putting your car into park, you take a deep breath as you stare at the club in front of you. If you weren’t desperate, you wouldn’t be here. You had run through all the possibilities in your head, and this seemed like the best solution. Your grades started to slip after the breakup, and it was like you couldn’t concentrate. You couldn’t stay awake, and you weren’t able to study.

But this was beyond desperation. This was complete lunacy to be driving up to the belly of the beast. The rumblings of this club were more than just gossip. People who started doing more than taking the pills came here. The allure of big money and protection with Steve Rogers was hard to resist.

You didn’t want to sell, but you also didn’t want to buy from anybody on campus. You just need a few pills to get through finals. That was all. Enough to keep you awake to study, and then you were out. It made sense to go straight to the source for that. You didn’t care what it took. You just need to stay alert.

Exhaling deeply, you get out of your car. The bass of the music rumbles deep in your body the closer you get, mimicking the pounding in your chest. You can hardly breathe, and you know that your pulse is visible. You didn’t do things like this. You can’t afford jail time or even a mark on your record. You’d lose all scholarships, and have to drop out, and this would all have been in vain.

Stepping up to the door, a brutish man towers over you. His shoulders are wide and broad, and his arms as thick as your legs. Casting your eyes down to the ground, you get a glint of metal as his fingers. The man tilts chin up, and you tremble. Your whole body shivers with fear.

“Why are you here? You look like a scared little lamb coming to slaughter. It’s just a night club, darling,” his silver blue eyes look behind you, casting their gaze all through the parking lot. Seemingly looking for someone with you before looking back at you.

“Are you alone?”

“Y-y-yes,” you hiccup, trying to tilt your head back down, but even his finger was enough to keep you in your place.

“Why are you here?”

“I-I-I…”

“You’re not cut out to be a pusher. Your fear shows you know exactly what goes on upstairs. You offering up your flesh? I’m sure there are several that would love to feast on you.”

“Oh, god, you eat people? I’m sorry,” tears blur your eyes, but the man lets out a harrowing laugh at your expense. Grabbing onto your wrist as he pulls you in the club. This was it, you are going to die, and all because you thought you needed Adderall to stay awake.

“Oh, you’ll be eaten. There’s nothing more delicious than the honey between a woman’s legs. Your body will be trembling for a very different reason besides fear. It’ll be pure unadulterated pleasure. Pleasure so grand you won’t even know where you are. That is, if you get the right client.”

“I don’t want to be a whore. I want to go home,” he pulls you into an elevator, waiting on the doors to close before his sneering face is rounding back on you. Inching ever closer before both his hands go on either side of you. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. You are just a scared little girl. Steve will have fun with you. Tell me, little lamb, why are you here? You wouldn’t be good at selling, and judging by the sweat beading around your hairline, and you recoiling into your skin, I bet that cherry is still fresh and ripe in between your thighs, so selling your skin doesn’t seem like you. Someone offer you up as a sacrifice, giving you all sweet and innocent up to some man that is going to destroy you? You wired, sweetheart?”

“No,” you sob. Shaking your head. “No, I’m by myself. Honestly.”

“Tell it to Steve,” he growls as the doors open up, and he pushes you forward. “Go on,” it is hard to move with the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your body pulses with fear. Convulsing uncontrollably, and when you see the cherry of a blunt light up in a corner, a dark figure clouded by even more darkness, and you yelp.

Attempting to turn around, and get past this behemoth of a man, but it was pointless. You are trapped. Just like a mouse in a maze waiting on her predator to pounce. A hand drops down on the arm of the chair, and almost every inch of it is covered in black ink. Rings adorn all his fingers. Rolling them along the fluffy arm, but never bringing his face into the light.

Inhaling a long drag of his joint you can almost make out some features on his face, and it only gives you more to be afraid of. He was just as big as the man that was refusing to let you go. “What have we here, Bucky? Did you bring me a little angel to sit on my lap? What’s your name, darling?”

He clears his throat when you don’t answer. Chuckling when you’re able to squeak out your name, “You’re just as sweet as an innocent Dove. I think that’s what I’m going to call you. Now, why don’t you come and sit on my lap, and let me get a better look at you?”

“No,” the answer comes out quickly, and much more surely than you were expecting.

He slowly stands up from his chair, twisting his neck to the side and a sickening pop rolls through every bone in his spine, and he takes one solid step forward, and his body is out of the shadows. Another step, and you see just how dangerously handsome he is. Tattoos erupt over every inch of his skin, except his face. A boyish quality to him with the smile of the devil, himself.

You have nowhere to go, because the brick wall behind you is nudging you closer to Steve, and the gap gets smaller. Steve’s thick hand raises the roach to his mouth, and inhales long. Flicking the stick to the side, he completely closes the gap. His hard muscles, coupled with the ones behind you stifle your breathing, and all you can do is stare up at him.

He blows out a puff of smoke, before his thick fingers close around your neck. Not tight enough to hurt you, but it would take only a second for him to start crushing your windpipe. “What did you say to me? Did you just tell me, Steve Rogers, no? Dovey, I could have you bent over this couch, and let every man that works for me stuff you full of cock, and there’s nothing you could fucking do about it. I was being nice when I asked you to sit on my lap. I just wanted to look at you. And now that I’m closer to you, I’m demanding you sit in my lap. The pleasantries are gone, sweetheart. So if you don’t want everyone to watch you take my fat cock, I would suggest you listen.”

Without warning, he walks back to his chair in the dark, and that ringed finger rubs over his thigh, “He won’t ask twice,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you shuffle your feet over to Steve.

“You won’t hurt me?” His eyes roll up to meet yours, and he shakes his head no. Waiting for you to gently sit down, and a possessive hand, lays too high up on your thigh. Rubbing on it, and his fingers dip too low between your thighs. “I don’t like this.”

“I would have been much kinder had you just sat down, and not defied me. You wired?” You shake your head no, and his fingers move all the way up your legs. Roaming around at the apex of your thighs before cupping your covered core. Drifting up higher, and he cups each breast, and runs up the swells of them. Another hand sweeps down your back, until he grunts in satisfaction.

“You understand why I have to check? A pretty and sweet girl in a place like this. It’s like they know my weakness. There is something about fresh meat. Has anyone ever touched you, sweetheart?” You stare dead faced at him. You weren’t answering. You didn’t have to defy him, but that's none of his business.

“They haven’t. Your pussy was throbbing so hard, and that sweet little sigh you let out. I can make you feel good if you let me touch you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. I just want to go home.”

He clicks his tongue as his eyes roam over your body. Getting too close as he sniffs up your neck, “You even smell sweet. You wanna know a secret?” Don’t answer. Just stare. “I can feel how hot that cunt is. Feel how she’s pulsing so hard at being filled. You hide nothing, Dovey.”

“Why can’t I go home?”

Steve settles back in his chair, glancing towards Bucky who also sits on a couch, and kicks up his feet. Rubbing his hand slowly up and down your back, but keeping a firm hand on your thigh. Keeping you spread out a bit more than you would want. “Why did you come here in the first place? You sought me out. I had to question things. Everyone knows I love pretty little things with tight pussy.”

“Stop, please,” your voice deadpans. There’s no emotion in you even though you want to scream and flail around. But it wouldn’t help. You chose to walk in here on your own accord, so now it was time to just listen.

“Why? You don’t feel that heat radiating out from between your legs? I have asked you why you are here, and you can’t provide an answer. So until you tell me, you’re going to sit like this. Have your panties become soiled with that sweet nectar. Uncomfortable, and desperate for friction. I just know you’re going to go home, and touch yourself thinking about me.”

“I won’t,” his eyebrow cocks up, and he waits. It would just be easier if you told him the truth. “My grades are slipping.”

“Oh, she’s sweet and educated. Let me guess…early childhood education? It will come in handy for when you take care of our kids,” Bucky snorts, leaning his head back on the couch, but you look at him horrified. “Oh good grief. What are you studying?”

“Early childhood,” a deep chuckle erupts out his mouth, tilting his head to look at the ceiling. Distracting you while his hand moves further up your thigh. “I…I need to cram in some studying.”

“I can definitely help you with some cramming. So you thought you would come to the supplier for some Adderall? Is that it? Why not ask one of the many people on campus? I’m sure they’re good and stocked up. We know it’s finals season.”

“I don’t trust people,” Steve moans, and his hand starts to rub in and out of the gap between your legs, only inches away from your core. “All it would take is for them to get caught, and then they’re ratting everyone out that they sold to. Even you.”

“Oh, trust me, if they sing like a canary and mention my name, it’ll be the last thing they fucking do. So let me get this straight, you, this sweet little Dove, come to the seedy part of town, thinking you’re going to march in here and ask for a few pills from me to get you through finals?”

“I have money,” you close your eyes as his fingers lightly graze over your panties. A skirt was a terrible idea, but you can deal with being angry at yourself later. Right now you just need to remain calm, and get out alive.

“I don’t want money.”

“I don’t want sex.”

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s definitely ways I could want you without having my cock going into your pussy. Fine. I’ll give you your fucking pills. If you don’t pass, you get to suck my giant cock. If you’re lucky I might let you ride my face before I split your pussy open for the first time,” don’t answer. Don’t even look.

“Why so wet Dovey?” Don’t answer. Don’t look. Definitely don’t moan. “Wet and so hot. I bet it feels like heaven in between your thighs. A pussy like this is something I would need all the time. Make you sit in my lap, with my cock buried so deep in your warmth, all while I hand out everyone’s product. Every seller would know you were taking my cock like a big girl, but they would see how much I stretch you out. Is that what you want? To be my pretty little cock ornament for all my sellers?”

Don’t answer. Don’t look. And stop whimpering. “You better answer me, you little bitch,” you gulp as he twists you around, making you stare at Bucky as you straddle his leg. Holding onto your hips as he forces you to grind on him. “How much do you have?”

“Carol told me they were fifteen dollars a pill.”

“I could give them to you for free. Just come on my leg, and tell Bucky what a pitiful little birdie you are.”

“I can pay like a normal customer,” you moan. This is humiliating. Bucky sits in front of the two of you, munching on some form of nut or cracker with the biggest eat shit grin. “Steve, I’d rather just pay.”

“Your money's no good with me. Who sent you? Carol? She’s the one that told you to come straight to me? Whoever told you to come here, sent you right into a mousetrap, sweetheart,” his own moan echoes yours as you clench your eyes close. You can’t look at Bucky or him. Your body is betraying you. Feeling things deep inside of you that you have never felt before.

Even the thought of Bucky watching this all unfold is making you weak. You hate it, but the pleasure is proving you didn’t hate it enough. “I have a type, Dovey. Sweet little ladies like you. One that wants to deny themselves all this pleasure is even better. I promise there are things that feel better than this.”

You didn’t want anything that felt better. It was like Satan had his finger curled, wiggling it towards you, and beckoning you deeper into depravity. First the pills, now riding someone’s thigh while another man watched. What was next? Did you even want to know? Or did you not want to let go?

Your hands slap down on either armrest, and you can not control the sounds that seep out of you. His tattooed fingers dig even deeper into your hips. He was going to leave marks on you, but it didn’t matter. What mattered now was the high that was all through your limbs. This shouldn’t feel good, and you are irritated by the fact that it was Bucky watching that made this more enjoyable.

“What is it that you want more than anything, Dovey?” Don’t answer. Keep your eyes closed. “The way this cunt is making a mess of me, I think you want to come, huh? Does this pretty little bird want to come? I’ll keep going until you pass out, so you better learn to talk to me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what, little darling? Yes isn’t a damn answer,” he grinds you down even harder on his thigh, and you have to brace yourself. Holding onto his knee as your head tilts back to the ceiling. The most strangled of cries as you come undone, but Steve doesn’t slow. Doesn’t stop, but goes faster. Harder. Leaving you screaming. Writhing around.

Your fingernails dig into his knee, but still he goes harder. He is trying to kill you. “What does my little bird want more than anything, hmm? Yes, isn’t an answer. And I won’t stop until you tell me.”

“I want…” your eyes roll into the back of your head as another orgasm builds up in your belly. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t process what is even happening. “I want to come!”

“Done,” Steve growls, giving your neck a little nibble, and you lose all self control. Your body trembles as you come undone. Whimpering even more when you hear drips onto the floor, as you squirt onto his thigh, and he gives your sensitive skin a hard suck.

“I figured you’d want your little pills to keep you awake for studying. Maybe even to pass your finals. But making you come is so much easier, and cheaper for me. Now how many pills do you need?”

“What” you pant out, turning to look back at him.

“You need pills. I’ll give them to you.”

“How much?” You ask, shifting on his thigh. No matter which way you turn, you’re uncomfortably wet. Slick coats the inside of your thigh, and Steve’s leg just further wipes it on you.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Really, oh my god, thank you!” He releases your hold, and you stand up, ready to hug him, but take a step backwards instead. Staring down at his drenched leg in horror. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Bucky, get her five pills?” You give him a sweet little smile, nodding your head. “No more than one a day. If you need more, just come to the club, and Bucky will bring you straight to me, and I’ll take care of you.”

You can’t believe he’s being so nice to you, but you’re thankful. Delighted even as Bucky hands you a bottle, “It has my name on it.”

“I don’t need you getting in trouble, Dovey. I need you to pass your finals. Come on, let me walk you out to your car. It gets dangerous at night. You don’t need to be alone,” you forget about the mess left behind on Steve’s pants. Don’t even pay attention to how his eyes darken as he leads you through the club.

Don’t notice the stares that are pointed right at you, and all because you have a nasty little hickey on your neck, and Steve’s possessive hand on the small of your back. No one approaches the two of you. No one points. You’re able to get out of the club without some man hitting on you.

Steve opens the door for you, letting you get seated before buckling you in. “I don’t want you to be out by yourself.”

“Yeah, okay,” that is a weird request, but you weren’t going to be seeing Steve anymore for it to matter.

“Good luck on your finals, Dovey,” he licks his lips as he looks over the expanse of your body. You’re just thankful that it is over. It wasn’t that terrible. And you saved some money.

Bucky comes to stand beside Steve as he memorizes your license plate. A sinister grin on his face, “Don’t lose sight of her. You know what to do,” he tells his friend before walking back into the club. Bucky goes over to his bike, already sensing some late nights for himself.

Steve had a mission. To keep you safe. Because you are his. And your scent engulfed him fully. He was going to break you down. And he was going to have every part of you. You just didn’t realize it. But everyone else did. He saw the club goers look at you and their sight was quickly averted. He’d wear your juices for the world to see. And soon, you’d wear his mark as well.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmaii @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess

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