#Chris Evans Fandom

[buckets-and-trees]

Naughty thought, buuut : tattoo artists Ari and Curtis loving to create on your body, but not all permanent tattoos. Instead they write on your body. Sweet things like "beautiful" or "ours". But also... Nasty things. 😈 "Cum here" or "Owned toy" or a count of how many times they filled you.

Worship In The Bedroom Characters/Pairings: Ari Levinson x curvy female!Reader x Curtis Everett Word Count: 3.3k

Content/Warnings: explicit smut (mfm threesome, kissing, vaginal fingering, anal play, nipple play, vaginal intercourse, anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cum play, cum eating, praise kink, dirty talk, light degradation, pet names (beautiful, sugar), body art

Author Notes: For the sixth week of Chris-mas... If you only care about the smut, go ahead and read - it can reasonably stand alone. If you want context and full resonance for the relationship, read the first two parts in the series.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

As the first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, you stir awake, your body pleasantly sore and your mind stirring with memories of the night before. The warmth of two bodies pressed against you brings a smile to your face before you even open your eyes.

You blink slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light. Curtis is on your left, his muscular arm draped over your waist, his face peaceful in sleep. Ari is on your right, propped up on one elbow, already awake and watching you with a tender smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," Ari murmurs, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“G’morning,” you murmur, smiling back. This is the third weekend you’ve spent with the men, but the first night you’ve stayed over.

You stretch languidly, careful not to disturb Curtis. As you do, you notice an odd sensation on your skin - a gentle tickle, almost like a feather being drawn across your flesh. You look down and gasp softly in wonder. Delicate lines of ink dance across your skin, intricate patterns and swirling designs covering your arms, chest, and stomach. The artwork is mesmerizing - a temporary masterpiece etched onto your body.

The soft tickle you felt was Ari, adding to the artwork with a fine-tipped marker. Ari chuckles at your reaction. "We got a bit carried away last night," he explains, his voice low and warm. "When you fell asleep, we just couldn't resist."

You trace a finger along one of the designs - a delicate spray of flowers blooming across your hip. As you follow the lines, you notice how they flow seamlessly from one design to the next, creating a cohesive tapestry across your body.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, awe evident in your voice.

Curtis stirs beside you, his ice-blue eyes blinking open slowly. He takes in the sight of you covered in intricate designs and a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face.

"Morning, sugar," he rumbles, his voice husky with sleep. His hand traces one of the designs on your stomach, sending a shiver through you. "Like what we’ve done with you?"

You nod, still mesmerized by the artwork adorning your skin. "It's incredible," you breathe. "I can't believe you did all this while I was asleep."

Ari chuckles, continuing to add to the design on your arm. "You sleep deep. This isn’t the only thing we did to you."

You gasp and Curtis squeezes your hip and hums in satisfaction.

Then Curtis props himself up on one elbow, mirroring Ari's position. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every line and curve of the temporary tattoos. His fingers trace a particularly intricate design on your ribcage, intertwining with your nearly healed new tattoo.

"These aren't just any markers," Curtis explains, his voice low and gravelly from sleep. "We used special body art pens designed for long-lasting temporary tattoos. They're made with a unique, skin-safe ink that bonds with the top layer of your skin."

Ari picks up from there with, "The designs will stay vibrant for 10 to 12 days, gradually fading as your skin naturally exfoliates. It's like having a whole new set of tattoos, but without the commitment or healing time."

Your eyes widen in surprise and delight. The idea of carrying their artwork on your skin for nearly two weeks sends a thrill through you. You imagine going about your daily life with these intricate designs hidden beneath your clothes, a secret reminder of another incredible night. And them.

Curtis's hand slides up your torso, between your breasts, following the lines of ink. "We wanted to mark you," he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. "To leave our mark in a way that would last a little longer."

Ari nods in agreement, adding a few final touches to a design on your shoulder. "Plus," he adds with a mischievous grin, "we couldn't resist the opportunity to turn your entire body into our personal canvas."

You raise up on your elbows to gt a better look at the artwork on your stomach, over your hips, and down your legs. The designs are intricate and beautiful, a blend of both men's artistic styles covering vast expanses of your exposed skin. You gasp when you register the filthy words they’ve written in the prettiest script. Slut and Pretty Holes and Cockworshipper and Property of Curtis & Ari with the most elaborate ampersand you’ve ever seen.

Your cheeks flush at the implications and the memories of the night before, accompanied by a renewed awareness of the pleasant soreness between your thighs. Flashes of the night before fly through your mind - hands exploring, mouths devouring, bodies intertwining in ways you never thought possible. The intensity of it all makes you shiver with renewed desire.

Curtis notices your reaction and smirks, his ice-blue eyes darkening with hunger. "Remembering last night, sugar?" he murmurs, his hand sliding down your stomach to rest on your hip.

You nod, biting your lip as heat pools in your core. "It was unreal," you breathe.

Ari chuckles, setting aside the marker and running his hand along your thigh. "And we're not done with you yet," he purrs, his voice low and full of promise.

Your breath hitches at Ari's words, excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Despite the soreness, you find yourself craving more.

Curtis leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "What do you say, sugar? Ready for round... what are we on now? Five? Six?" His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I... yes," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling slightly with desire.

Ari grins, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "That's our girl," he purrs, his hand sliding up your inner thigh. "Always so eager for more."

Curtis captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing your gasp as Ari slips two fingers in your cunt.

You moan into Curtis's kiss as Ari's fingers expertly work your sensitive flesh. The dual sensations of Curtis's demanding lips and Ari's skilled touch quickly reignite the fire in your core. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction against Ari's hand.

Curtis breaks the kiss, his ice-blue eyes dark with desire. "So responsive," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. His hand cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple, causing it to harden into a tight peak.

Ari's fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars. "Still so wet for us," he purrs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "I bet you could take us both right now."

Your breath catches at Ari's words, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through you.

Curtis's eyes darken with hunger as he watches your reaction. His hand slides down your body, joining Ari's between your thighs. "Think you can handle it, sugar?" he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.

You moan as Curtis's fingers circle your clit, working in tandem with Ari's thrusting fingers. The dual stimulation has your hips bucking, seeking more friction.

"Yes, always want you," you manage to gasp out between pants of pleasure.

Ari grins, then nips at the inner flesh of your thigh, making you yelp. Curtis then smacks your clit, and you yelp again.

The sting of Curtis's slap on your sensitive clit sends a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, making you gasp and arch your back. Curtis takes advantage of your movement, his mouth latching onto your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking hard.

"Fuck," you moan, your hands tangling in their hair, not sure whether to pull them closer or push them away as the sensations overwhelm you.

Ari’s fingers continue to move in and out of your cunt, stretching you further as he adds a third digit.

"That's it, beautiful," Ari growls, his ice-blue eyes intense as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "Let us hear you."

Curtis releases your nipple with a wet pop. His blue eyes are dark with lust as he looms close to your face again and then licks a messy stripe up your neck and over your face. Then his lips brushing against your ear. "We're going to wreck you," he growls, his voice low and gravelly. "Fill you up completely."

Your body trembles with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation as Curtis and Ari continue their sensual assault. Their hands work in tandem, fingers probing and teasing the most sensitive areas of your body with practiced skill.

Ari's fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "You ready for us?" he purrs.

You whimper, your hips bucking against their hands. The thought of being so thoroughly filled by both of them sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. "Please," you gasp, your voice breathy with need.

Curtis and Ari exchange a heated look over your body, a silent communication passing between them. With practiced ease, they begin to maneuver you, their strong hands guiding your pliant form.

"On your side, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

They position you carefully, Curtis spooning behind you while Ari faces you. The warmth of their bodies envelops you, skin against skin. Ari’s hand traces the curve of your hip, following the delicate skull pattern inked there.

Curtis's hand slides down your thigh, lifting your leg and draping it over Ari's hip. This new position leaves you completely exposed, vulnerable, and aching with need. You can feel the heat of their erections pressing against you - Curtis's thick length nestled against your ass, while Ari's presses insistently against your lower belly.

Ari cups your face, drawing you into a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his hand slides up and down your side, fingers ghosting over skin, making your shiver. He pauses to murmur, "Eager cockslut," against your lips.

You moan into Ari's mouth at his words, a shot of arousal running through you. You feel Curtis shift behind you, his hand sliding between your legs from behind. His thick fingers probe your entrance, spreading your wetness.

"So fucking wet," Curtis growls in your ear. "Always so ready for us."

You gasp as you feel the blunt head of Curtis's cock pressing against your tightest entrance. He enters you slowly, stretching you deliciously. Your head falls back against his shoulder as he fills you.

"That's it, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his voice strained. "Take all of me."

The stretch is intense, bordering on too much after the night's activities, but the fullness feels incredible.

Ari watches your face intently as Curtis sinks into you inch by inch. When Curtis is fully seated, Ari captures your lips in another searing kiss, and his hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit again. He rubs slow circles as Curtis begins to move inside you with shallow thrusts. The dual sensations have you panting, pleasure building rapidly.

"Good girl," he murmurs against your mouth. "Now it's my turn."

Your eyes widen as you feel the blunt head of Ari's cock drag over your clit and then he guides the tip into your pussy. You groan as Ari begins to push inside you, stretching and stuffing you. The sensation of both men filling you completely is overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that has you trembling between them.

"Breathe, beautiful," Ari murmurs, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly sinks deeper. "That's it, take us both."

Curtis's arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady as Ari pushes in to the hilt. You feel so impossibly full, stretched to your limits in the most exquisite way. For a moment, nobody moves, allowing you to adjust to the intense sensation.

"Fuck, fuuuuck," Curtis curses in your ear, his voice strained.

Ari nods in agreement, his forehead resting against yours as he struggles to maintain control. "Perfect," he breathes. "You were fucking made to be used by us.” He squeezes your plush thigh, relishing the purchase his large hands have on your ample flesh.

Curtis nips at your earlobe, his breath hot against your neck. "So tight," he growls, his hips making small, shallow thrusts. "You feel incredible, sugar."

You whimper at the overwhelming sensations, feeling utterly filled and possessed by both men. The slight movement of Curtis's hips sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you gasp and clutch at Ari's shoulders.

"Please," you moan, not even sure what you're begging for. "Please, I need..."

Ari captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your pleas. "We know what you need, beautiful," he murmurs against your mouth. "We're going to give it to you."

With that, both men begin to move. They start slow, alternating their thrusts so that as one pulls back, the other pushes in. The drag of their cocks inside you, filling you so completely, has you seeing stars.

Curtis's hand slides up your body, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Such a good and nasty girl," he growls in your ear. "So greedy. Taking both our fat cocks.”

"Oh god," you moan. "So full."

Ari picks up the pace of his thrusts and Curtis matches his rhythm, driving into you with increasing force.

"That's it, sugar," Curtis growls in your ear, his hand sliding down to grip your hip.

Their cocks stretching and filling you, their hands roaming your body, has pleasure building rapidly within you. You feel utterly possessed, caught between them as they use your body and assault your mind with their dirty talk.

"Look at you," Ari purrs, his blue eyes intense as they lock onto yours. "Our perfect little slut, stuffed full of cock and loving every second of it."

The praise sends a thrill through you, making you clench around both of them. Curtis groans in response, his hips snapping forward more forcefully. "That's it, sugar," he growls, his breath hot against your neck. "Squeeze us tight with your greedy holes."

You moan loudly, overwhelmed by the onslaught. Your body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. The relentless stimulation of both men moving inside you has you teetering desperately on the edge of your orgasm.

"Oh god," you whimper, your hands clutching desperately at Ari's shoulders. "I'm so close."

Ari grins wickedly, his hips snapping forward with increased force, thumb still circling your puffy clit. "That's it," he growls. "Come for us. Show us how much you love being stuffed full of cock."

Curtis's hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding one of your nipples. He pinches and twists the peaked nub as he continues to thrust into you from behind. "Come on, sugar," he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. "Let go!”

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body tensing and shaking between them as waves of pleasure course through you. You cry out, your voice hoarse and desperate as you clench tightly around both men.

"That's it, beautiful," Ari growls, his hips snapping forward with increased intensity. "Milk our cocks with those pretty holes."

Curtis groans in your ear, his arm tightening around your waist as he drives into you harder. "Fuck, sugar," he pants. "You feel so good when you come on our cocks."

Your body feels like a live wire, trembling uncontrollably as Curtis and Ari continue to thrust into you, prolonging your intense orgasm. The overstimulation borders on painful, yet you crave more, your body greedily clenching around their thick cocks.

As your orgasm begins to ebb, Curtis and Ari's thrusts become more erratic, their breathing ragged. You can feel them both swelling inside you, on the brink of their own release.

"Fuck, I'm close," Ari growls, his grip on your thigh tightening.

Curtis grunts in agreement, his thrusts becoming more forceful. "Me too," he pants against your neck.

You moan, overwhelmed by the sensation of both men using your body so thoroughly. "Please," you whimper.

"Where do you want it, beautiful?" Ari asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Tell us."

"Inside," you gasp out, your body clenching around them at the thought. "Fill me up. Please!"

Your words seem to push them over the edge, and they come one after the other, Curtis first, and Ari close behind.

Curtis and Ari slowly withdraw from your body, their cocks slipping free with lewd, wet sounds that makes you shudder. You feel utterly wrecked, but also deliciously used and satisfied as their combined release begins to trickle out of you.

Ari captures your lips in a deep, languid kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand caresses your face. The tenderness of the kiss contrasts beautifully with the intensity of what you've just experienced, grounding you in the aftermath of your shared passion.

Behind you, Curtis's large hands slide between your legs, his fingers probing gently at your thoroughly used holes. He spreads your wetness around, mixing his own release with Ari's and your abundant arousal. The slick, sticky mess coats his fingers as he rubs slow circles around your sensitive pussy, teases your ass. The sensation is both soothing and arousing, your body still hyper-sensitive from the intense experience.

A moment after Curtis takes his hand away from your messy holes, he tugs your chin away from Ari’s kiss and slips his fingers into your open mouth. Your tongue laps instinctively to taste the complex flavor coating his fingers. The taste is an intoxicating blend - the saltiness of Curtis's release, the slightly bitter tang of Ari's, and the sweet muskiness of your own arousal. It's a potent cocktail that floods your senses, making you moan softly around Curtis's fingers as you suckle them clean.

Curtis watches you intently, his ice-blue eyes dark with renewed hunger as you lap at his fingers. He slowly withdraws them from your mouth, dragging them along your bottom lip, leaving a glistening trail in their wake.

Before you can catch your breath, Curtis captures your mouth with his own hungry lips.

Curtis kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting the mingled flavors of your combined releases. His hand cups the back of your head, holding you in place as he devours you. When he finally breaks the kiss, you're breathless and dazed.

Ari chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over the artwork on your skin. "Insatiable," he murmurs, but his voice is fond.

Curtis breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless. His ice-blue eyes roam over your body, taking in the sight of you thoroughly debauched and marked by their artwork.

"You okay, sugar?" he asks.

You nod, unable to form words just yet. You feel utterly boneless, caught between their warm bodies, pleasantly sore and thoroughly satisfied. You melt under their intense gazes, feeling both exposed and cherished, but this pattern is nothing new with this pair of men who ply you with both the dirty and the delicate in a dizzying combination.

Ari shifts to his back, and you curl into him, resting over his chest. Curtis moves in behind you, nuzzles into you neck, and places a few kisses along your shoulder as the three of you succumb to Sunday morning snoozing.

The room is quiet save for the sound of your collective breathing slowly returning to normal. And as you drift back into sleep, you think of the new ink they’ve put on you. They may be temporary tattoos covering your skin, but they’ll be a tangible reminder of your connection to these two men, a secret mark of ownership that only the three of you know, with a balance of simplicity and complexity that you still need to sort out, but that’s novel and beautiful and only for the three of you to explore.

This is distraction smut. It was on the docket for my Countdown to Chris-mas, but not for this week, but I couldn't pull the headspace that I needed to work on the other story I had intended to debut. Hopefully this can just be a welcome indulgence for anyone who needs it.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[cevansgoodgirl]

It’s the same hotness but more 🥵 good gawdddd

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hi! I love your fics so much and wanted to send in a request if that would be okay with you!!💗 could you please do a lifeguard!Ari Levinson x Tiny!reader where she brings him lunch while he’s at work, she’s wearing a bikini… obvi. When she gets there she sees girls flirting and staring at Ari and she gets really jealous, size kink… smut? 😁

hey honey! thank you so much, I'm sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it.

summary - you go to surprise your boyfriend and get jealous over the women hanging around him.

warning - smut, angst, jealousy, daddy kink, creampie, breeding kink, swearing, public sex.

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

You wanted to surprise your partner. You decided to make his favourite food, wrapping it in cute packaging before putting it in an adorable picnic basket and wearing the sexy bikini that Ari had gifted you. You were happy as you skipped up, excited to see Ari, but you began to regret it as you got closer. Your man stood with tall, good-looking women around him, their hands touching his biceps, and they seemed to be flirting. Was this what he does when he’s here? Did you not mean anything? Were you too short? Many thoughts flew around in your mind, causing the green-eyed monster to appear. 

You can feel your inner brat begin to make its way to the surface. With a huff, you stomp your foot and angrily turn around, not feeling in the mood to have lunch with Ari anymore. You don’t notice Ari turning his head with a smile as he sees you, which slowly turns into a frown when he catches you walking away. He growls when he realises why. These stupid bimbos are always crowding him daily, and he’s learnt to zone them out, watching out for danger. They had known he was taken, but they didn’t care, and he wished he could drown them in the same ocean he was watching. 

Ari pushes the women as he stalks after you, nodding to the other lifeguard to take over for him. “Baby!” Ari huffs, breaking out into a jog as he chases after you. “Baby! Goddamit woman! Slow down!” He growls, wondering how a tiny ass woman can be so damn fast. Ari finally catches up to you, quickly getting ahead and stopping before you. He sighs when he notices the look on your face, knowing he’d have to make it up to you. “Baby girl. Where do you think you're going?” 

You roll your eyes, attempting to walk past him but feel annoyed as he stops you. “Ari, let me go. I’m not in the mood. Go back to your beach, bimbos.” You grumble, and a squeal escapes as you are suddenly lifted, your feet no longer touching the ground as Ari carries you to a secluded part of the beach. Your tiny fists hit his back, gasping as his large hand smacks your plump cheeks. 

Ari plonks you down onto the ground and stands over you. “Now, baby girl. You know I love you, and I’d never cheat on you, so why let your inner brat take over?” His hands rest on his hips before he kneels and crawls on top of you, gripping your cheeks softly. “Did my little baby come to give daddy some lunch, hmm? Did you come here wearing my favourite bikini and then get jealous thinking I’d rather have someone else?” A moan slips past your lips as he rubs his prominent bulge against your covered cunt. “Why don’t I make it up to you, baby.” You whine when he slides your bikini bottoms to the side and takes his throbbing member out. Ari lines the thick cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in, grunting with how tight you are around him. “Fuck, baby!” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling your walls spasm wildly around his cock as he continues to push in deeper and deeper, stretching you open from the inside. Your hands fly to his back, digging your nails into his flesh as your head flies back. “Daddy! Daddy! Oh fuck!” You whine and moan, wrapping your tiny legs around his giant body. Your screams echo as he begins to pound into you, fucking you hard and deep, marking you, claiming you. 

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. Why would I want someone else when I have you, huh?” Ari growls, holding your tiny body down as he destroys you, taking you apart underneath him. His cock splits you open, drilling into you until you wither underneath him, your back arches, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your arousal squirts out of you and covers him. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Squirt for daddy.” Ari’s hand slithers between you and plays with your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm. His balls tighten, and his cock begins to twitch wildly before thick amounts of cum spurt out of him and deep into you, stuffing you full of him. “Gonna pump you full of me, let everyone know your mine, and I’m yours as your round with my child.” You whimper underneath him, cumming at his words. 

Ari leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, holding you close to him as he strokes your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. You’re my little doll.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[majaloveschris]

CHRIS EVANS AS JACK O'MALLEY RED ONE (2024)

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [8]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,572

A/N: poor reader. things are not going as well as she’d hoped. we’re honestly in the home stretch, i anticipate another 2-3 chapters before we’ve arrived at our conclusion! (i also have some plans for a short prequel, so stay tuned!) bottom divider by @firefly-graphics

You stare at your husband, open mouthed as he shuts the door behind him. On the tray in his hands is breakfast, and most of all—coffee. Real coffee, swirling gently in the fancy drip . You can’t think of a single thing to say as he moves past you to set the tray down on the table. 

The scent of his cologne makes your knees tremble, it’s so familiar, so him. You haven’t seen Ransom in person in so long it feels like some sort of trick. You look down at his hands as he arranges the plates, looking for the indents left by Lloyd’s signature rings—but there is only his wedding band, sitting on his ring finger. He looks up at you. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sweetheart.” 

Your tongue is sticky in your dry mouth. “I did.” 

Ransom isn’t as good at pretending he’s unaffected—not as good as Lloyd. Brief upset flashes across his features before it’s replaced by determined placidity. It makes the rage simmering in your belly flare up even hotter at the sight of him. You’re angrier at him than you are at Lloyd. It isn’t logical, you know, to feel somehow more betrayed by your husband than his twin, but you do. You suppose Lloyd owed you less than the man with whom you had shared every hope, every dream for your future. 

“Let’s eat something, at least,” he replies at last. “You can hate me on a full stomach.” Reluctantly, you sit down at the table. You wonder if all your meals will be taken like this now, now that contact has been re-established, like some sort of strange exposure therapy. Ransom pours himself a mug of dark coffee and then a matching one for you. You don’t reach for it, though, not until you see him drink from his own cup. 

The plate before you is loaded up with fresh fruits—your favorites: cut grapes, melons, slices of kiwi—and beneath that is a fully loaded waffle, topped with fluffy whipped cream. You spear a forkful of eggs and chew as you stare pointedly at the mug in front of you instead of at him. 

Ransom isn’t like Lloyd, he doesn’t force conversation. He simply sits there across from you, eating breakfast in your prison like it’s the most ordinary thing in the entire world. 

“How could you do this?” You vomit up the question as you tremble, unable to swallow another bite. “How?” 

“We love you so much,” he begins, and you have to resist the urge to throw the plate at his head, food and all. “So fucking much.” Ransom reaches across the table to grasp your hand. “This is the only way this works, Sweetheart.” He lifts his hand to your cheek. You hate that his reassurance feels good, that you’re tempted to press your face into the palm of his hand the way you used to. A sob tears free from your throat. 

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t—”

“Do you even know what love is?” There is a cold edge to Ransom’s voice that’s unfamiliar to you, not because you haven’t heard it before, but because he never adopts that tone with you—never. “Love is doing for others what they cannot do for themselves.” You almost want to cringe away from his gaze. “You taught me that.” As his words increase in intensity you actually try to, only to have Ransom grip your chin with his free hand.“Even if it hurts.”

He sits back in his chair, and sips his coffee. “Now finish your breakfast, Sweetheart. I have a surprise.” The word surprise immediately gets your hackles up, and you can feel your stomach churning. 

“A surprise? What is it?” Ransom winks at you. 

“Eat up.” 

You force your way through the fruit—it’s sweet and ripe but it tastes like mush now as you anxiously chew and swallow. Ransom had always been a good gift-giver. It’s one of the things you’d valued about your husband, his attention to detail, his heart. That little piece of him he’d let you see, the part of him he guarded, held like a wounded bird in his cupped hands. The part of him that memorized your birthday three months in and threw a half-birthday party because he couldn’t wait that long to give you the present he’d gotten for you—a trip to Paris, to see the Louvre. Which one of these people is your husband, you wonder, watching him watch you. Which one of them is real, which is created? 

Or had you ever really known him at all?

When you’re done eating, Ransom hands you a little plastic baggie, containing an assortment of pills. A few you recognize—your pre-natal vitamins, one of your prescribed supplements—but there are some you don’t. You glare down at his offered hand with narrowed eyes before crossing your arms. 

“I’m not taking those.” You’re expecting Ransom to fight you—hell, you’re half expecting him to pin you down and force them down your throat. But he doesn’t. All he does is purse his lips, and place them down on the table. 

“We’ll revisit that.”

“We’re not revisiting anything!” You hiss. “I am not. Taking those.” Ransom steeples his fingers beneath his chin and raises an eyebrow. 

“You had no problem taking them when you couldn’t see them, Sweetheart.” Your stomach rolls. “It was my suggestion,” he sighs, fingering the little packet. “I thought you would appreciate the agency.”

“You’re still drugging me.” 

“Sweetheart they’re not roofies.” His flippancy somehow makes you angrier. “It’s all the things you were taking—perhaps a little altered for your condition, but nothing untoward. Your Celexa for your anxiety. Prenatal supplements, vitamins.” 

“I’m not taking them.” 

“Fine.” He picks the little baggie back up and places it in his pocket. Instead of tacit, clever threats like Lloyd, Ransom simply gets up. You look up at him in surprise, almost forgetting to be angry. 

“Y-you’re not going to force me?” You ask, shocked. Your husband pushes his chair back against the table. He looks sad. Really sad, like he recognizes the weight of what has changed between you. 

“No, baby. I’m not.” He turns towards the door. “But I’m not going to stay, either.” Your eyes go wide with fear.

“W-wait, why? I—”

“You’re upset. I understand, I do.” For his part, Ransom looks realistically disappointed, like he wanted things to turn out differently than they have. A sad smile flits across his face. “But baby if we’re going to build back what we had, build it stronger, you’re going to have to think about more than just yourself.”

You feel a pang of hurt in your chest at his accusation. “I’m not selfish! If any

thing—”

“Threatening to leave me? To take the baby?” Ransom shoots you a cold, disappointed look. “What did you tell me, Sweetheart? The baby will never know my name? What would you call that if not selfish?” You swallow thickly. 

That day feels so long ago now, though in truth you suppose it’s been nearly a month since you’d figured it out and everything had broken open and fallen all to pieces. It’s strange to think that that was reality in the same way that this is—that your physical body no longer occupies a world that exists only in your memories, when everything was perfect. 

“I’m going to give you some time to relax. Maybe It’s too soon.” Ransom shakes his head. “I’ll be back when you’re ready.” Your chest feels tight at his declaration. Alone? Again? You curl your fists into tight balls beneath the table, nails digging into your palms. 

“Don’t.” 

“Oh? And why should I stay? You hate me, you won’t take your medicine—”

“I’ll take it.” You mumble, and Ransom turns back around, a soft, surprised look on his face. You don’t want to go back to being alone, back to the endless hours of silence, your food delivered while you slept or bathed, to reciting movie lines just to have something to listen to—

“What?”

“I—I’ll take them. Please—you don’t…” You close your eyes.. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in here alone, day after day.”  It’s torture. The words hang unspoken from the tails of the ones you’re brave enough to voice. Tears press against your closed lids as you try unsuccessfully to keep them back. He sighs. 

“Oh Baby.” 

You hate him —you hate both of them, so much it seems to fill up every inch of you. So why do you want him to stay? Why does it feel familiar and right and good when he tucks you beneath his chin as you sob? You’d managed to hold them in with Lloyd, but you can’t with Ransom. He’s too familiar, your body knows him, thinks it’s safe with him, even when it’s not. But it’s hard not to feel that same security when he sweeps you into his arms and sits against the window with you as you whimper and cry, pressing your face into his chest. 

Ransom rocks you back and forth, rubbing circles on your back through the cotton dress. You aren’t sure what he says to you as he does so, mumbling muddy praise and promises into your hair. It’s almost worse than that day at the villa—you hadn’t been this hopeless then, this trapped. You’d thought you could leave then, that you could simply walk away from the snare they had set for you, though you never really could.

What other end could there have been?

You aren’t sure how long you sit there with Ransom, your heaving, hysterical sobs becoming hiccoughs. Listlessly you stare out at the waves, dragging the back of your hand across your puffy eyes. Wordlessly, he hands you the little plastic bag of pills. You take it from him without a fuss, tear open the corner and dump them into the palm of your hand. You consider them for a moment before lifting them to your mouth and swallowing them dry. 

—

The surprise, as it turns out, is books. 

Ransom brings in a brightly colored bag from the hallway as you sit sniffling on the bed, still wiping at your puffy eyes. It almost brings you to tears again as you pull out the tissue paper to reveal the prizes inside. They’re all books you’ve never read before but had been meaning to, even going so far as to put a list of them on the fridge in the apartment you shared with Ransom. Frankenstein. Hound of the Baskervilles. The Shining.

“You read my list.” 

“Of course I did,” Ransom says, pressing a kiss to your temple before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “It’s been up there for months.” He teases. “I thought we could read them together, like we did in college. Since you’ve been so lonely.” Something goes tight and achy in your chest at the memory of it, you and Ransom cuddled together on your narrow dorm room bed as you read him passages of Wuthering Heights and Catcher in the Rye. It’s so easy to picture it now, though you had not thought of them for months—maybe years. Your husband just a few years younger, draping his own sweater over your shoulders. 

I like when it smells like you, he’d say when you’d stammer about lotion or perfume, pressing it into your hands anyway. 

“I’d like that.” 

It’s almost like being home again, wrapping yourself in the soft comforter on the bed as Ransom begins to read. Is it so wrong, you wonder, to want to go back to when things were ordinary and perfect? Before you knew your husband and his brother felt something deeper than love, deeper than obsession for you—ownership, perhaps. You don’t want this new knowledge, as insane as that seems. You don’t want to know that your family is dependent on them, that their lives rely on your marriage in ways you never could have foreseen. Your father’s business, Nathalie’s school—all things they would lose the instant your relationship dissolved. 

And as Ransom reads, it’s almost easy to pretend you don’t have it, to close your eyes and just… listen. You’re half asleep when he shifts you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. You begin to stir, pushing at his chest, but he hums softly. 

“Just let me have this, Sweetheart. You can still hate me when I’m done.” Your husband holds you to his chest, stroking your hair until you fall asleep. He holds you like that for a long time, listening to the sound of your breathing. With a sigh, Ransom lowers you down to the mattress. He’s arranging your books on the bedside table when the sound of the keypad draws his attention.

“You’re bringing her presents already?” Lloyd drawls from the threshold. “I thought you said she wasn’t ready.” Ransom rolls his eyes. He knows what jealousy looks like well enough on his own face to know it on his brother’s. 

“I said that a week ago,” he says softly. “And keep your voice down. You know we had to lower the dose on the sedative.” Lloyd leans against the bedpost, watching as Ransom fusses over you. “Besides. You got to see her yesterday.” He shoots a glare at his older brother. “You took a fucking bath with her. You always have to be fucking first, don’t you?” 

It’s Lloyd’s turn to roll his eyes. “I don’t interfere in your relationship, you don’t talk shit about mine.” He smooths a hand down your cheek. “I called the doctor. He said he’ll be here Monday.” 

Ransom nods. “Good.” A small smile crosses his lips. “I think she’ll be excited to see the baby.” He rests a hand on the ever-so-slight curve of your belly, and Lloyd snorts. “With our luck, it’ll be twins.” You shift, mumbling something in your sleep as your face twitches. Lloyd kisses your forehead. 

“Shh, baby. M’right here.” His hand replaces Ransom’s on your belly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

—

“A doctor?” You stare at the two of them incredulously. “Here?” Lloyd scoffs at your shock. 

“Come on, Princess. It’s not like we’re in space.” He pats you affectionately on your hip. “Besides, you’re due for a checkup. Don’t you want to see your little nugget?” His words twist your stomach. You had scheduled an ultrasound for when you returned from Mykonos—not knowing, foolishly, perhaps, that you never would. I wonder what they told Dr. Pashik. 

Ransom and Lloyd are wrapped around you like snakes; your husband curled around you from behind, while Lloyd has draped himself across your lap, tracing circles on the exposed skin of your thigh where the dress has ridden up. They’d come into your room sometime early that morning while you’d still been mostly asleep, taking up residence on either side of you while you mumbled groggily. Of course Ransom and Lloyd had not come empty handed, bringing with them more gifts; books, card games, even a portable device they told you you were allowed to watch movies on. Of course, upon discreet investigation there were only streaming apps installed on it, no browser, nor any way to reach the outside world. It was password locked for extra security, which neither one of your lover-turned-captors had yet supplied you. 

You rest a hand on your tummy. “I am excited,” you say finally. “I guess… I’m surprised.” Until now, they had not allowed you to see a single person other than them—in fact you wouldn’t have known there were more people here than the three of you had Lloyd not pointedly told you. “What kind of doctor treats a prisoner?”

“You’re a patient, Princess.” Lloyd corrects you. “Not a prisoner.” He kisses your thigh. One who enjoys a discreet, hefty payout. 

“Someone you know from work?” You ask snidely, and Lloyd laughs. 

“Maybe when I can trust you, I can tell you.” He winks at you. You know your brother-in-law does work for “the government” but you aren’t really sure which government. You get the feeling he has no loyalty in that regard, though all you have to go on is your own baseless assumption. Your thoughts turn to the doctor, and you wonder if they might be sympathetic, despite Lloyd’s money. If you’re even allowed to be alone with them—in all likelihood you probably won’t. If Ransom and Lloyd have been anything they’ve been careful, you doubt they’d make such a rookie mistake this far into the game. Not now. 

You smile sadly. “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to trust me.”

“Oh Princess, I don’t know about that. After all, look at us now.” A lump forms in your throat. “All cozy like. I think you feel a lot more comfortable than you want to admit.” You swallow against the lump that’s formed, thick and sticky in your throat. 

“I just know there’s no use trying to push you off.” 

“Okay, Princess.” Lloyd blows you a kiss. “Whatever you say.” 

It is warm and comfortable between them, and as much as you hate it, Lloyd’s hands do feel familiar and right on your skin, though you don’t want them to. It occurs to you once again that you don’t know what’s in those neat little pre-packaged pill bags that they’re giving you, and as much as you don’t want to bask in the sudden intensity of their affection after weeks of stark purposeful isolation, you still can’t help yourself. It doesn’t help to know the rules of the game when they’re still playing it so effectively. All you can do is watch as Ransom and Lloyd move you around the board, to ends you can only imagine. 

“When is the doctor coming?”

“Tomorrow,” Ransom says, squeezing your hand. “I think we’ll hear the heartbeat, you’re far enough along, you know.” He sounds excited. You know he is—Ransom has always been excited at the prospect of fatherhood. He’d been downright encouraging when you had brought up going off your birth control, if the things he’d been growling into your ear as he rutted into you in your bed were any indicator, and they were. 

“We still haven’t talked about names.” 

“I had a list going but it was on my phone.” 

“Maybe we’ll take a look at it together soon.” Ransom’s hands drift to your shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscle knotted underneath your skin. 

“Will we get pictures?” You ask. “Of the ultrasound?” 

“Of course.”

“Then… will you send them to my parents?” His hands falter, and you turn to look at him. Your husband’s expression is unreadable as he glances down at his brother, an entire conversation passing between them wordlessly. You feel that same pang of old jealousy creep up into your chest, and you swallow it down. “I just—they… they would want to see.” 

“Maybe.” He says at last. 

“Where do they think I am?”

“I don’t—”

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You ask, shifting away from him, from the both of them. “Please. Tell me something. Anything.” Lloyd shakes his head with a frown, but Ransom sighs. 

“You’re in a very expensive hospital in Austria.” 

“My father wouldn’t believe that,” you say, shaking your head. You know your family—they wouldn’t just swallow some paper thin excuse just to get back to their lives. Would they? “He-he would want to see me.” 

“Your father is very busy with his business, Princess,” Lloyd cuts in effortlessly. “He has so much to worry about, and then there’s Nathalie’s classes…” he shrugs. “They trust us to take good care of you.” 

“So let us take care of you.” 

You’d suspected you had no tears left to cry, that perhaps you’d cried them all already. But as always, you manage to surprise yourself with more from the seemingly unending supply inside you. You want to push away their hands as they pat and comfort you, hushing you and wiping at their tears with the pads of their thumbs. It’s the only comfort you have, especially knowing your family isn’t looking for you. Why would they? You remember the bitter, bitter arguments you’d had with your own father when you had decided to move out. They relied on you, needed you—you contributed to more than a third of the bills, there was simply no way around it. You were hurting the family, damning them with your independence. 

“Have you ever thought about anyone but your goddamn self?” Your father had never apologized for that night, and like a dutiful daughter you never brought it up again because how could you? You were the oldest, junior mom, de-facto parent. Something shatters inside you at the thought, and you feel it almost like physical pain. I wonder if they can hear it. 

You don’t know when the arms around you begin to feel like solace instead of suffocation as you weep against someone’s warm chest—you cannot be sure, not through your blurry, red-rimmed eyes. But as your fingers curl into his shirt, and another warm set of lips presses against your hair, you wonder if perhaps this is why they chose you. 

Because who didn’t love to tinker with a broken doll?

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Under the Stars (Steve Rogers)

Summary: You and Steve spend time together star gazing.

WC: 590ish

Warnings: Fluff

Read on Ao3!

--

The quiet hum of the city settled around you as you found yourself sitting on the rooftop of the Avengers Tower. The night sky was a deep velvet, dotted with stars that twinkled like diamonds. You leaned back on your hands, soaking in the cool breeze and the soft sounds of the city below. It was peaceful up here, away from the chaos of the world.

Steve Rogers joined you a moment later, the familiar sound of his boots softly hitting the rooftop breaking the tranquillity. He settled beside you, his presence warm and comforting. You glanced at him, the way the moonlight danced across his features, casting gentle shadows on his jawline.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he took in the view.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your heart fluttering as he turned to face you. “But I think the stars are even brighter up here.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that charming way that always made your heart skip. “You’re not just saying that because I’m here, are you?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No. It’s just… it feels special. Like the universe is reminding us of all the good things.”

His expression softened as he looked at you. “You know, I used to think I understood what it meant to be a hero, and Captain America. But being with you has shown me that there’s so much more to it.”

You turned to him fully, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he began, pausing to gather his thoughts, “being a hero isn’t just about fighting battles and crimes. It’s about the people you fight for. And you… you make everything worth it, you always have.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the weight of his words settled between you. You felt your cheeks flush, and you looked away, tracing patterns in the concrete with your eyes.

“Steve, I—”

Before you could finish, he gently turned your face back to him, his blue eyes searching yours. “I hope the heavens know how much I adore you,” he said softly, sincerity flooding his voice. 'I hope they know I would do anything in my power to show you how deeply I care about you."

Your heart raced at his confession. You could see the truth in his eyes; in that moment, the world around you faded away. All that existed was the two of you, suspended in time under the vast expanse of the universe.

“I adore you too,” you whispered, barely able to contain the swell of emotion rising within you.

A grin spread across his face, transforming his features with a boyish charm. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned into his hand instinctively.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he asked, nodding towards the sky.

You smiled, your heart swelling with hope. “What should I wish for?”

“Maybe for more nights like this,” he suggested, his voice low and intimate.

You took a deep breath, letting the moment wash over you. “I think I’ll wish for you,” you said, your heart laid bare. “Always.”

With that, Steve leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. The connection felt electric, and the air between you crackled with unspoken promises.

“Always,” he echoed, and at that moment, under the watchful gaze of the stars, you both knew that this was just the beginning.

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

in relation to this post, could we get some super nasty breeding kink sex when he comes home from a mission? i imagine him just feral and needing you so bad all rough and the nastiest words coming from him

Conception*

a/n: there’s no link or anything but I’m assuming you’re talking about the steve edit i posted LOLLLL

summary: Steve comes home from a high risk mission and decides he doesn’t want to wait any longer

warnings: smut, lil bit of angst, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie ofc, needy Steve, aftercare

word count: 2.6k

~

YN hums softly along to Video Games by Lana Del Ray, a look of concentration adorning her face as she puts the finishing touches on the dinner she’s prepared. She’s expecting Steve home sometime tomorrow morning so she fills a tupperware container full of half the delicious meal she made.

Her stomach grumbles in hunger as soon as she gets a whiff of the potatoes, steamed vegetables, and steak bites, her mouth practically watering in anticipation. Once she’s plated the other half for herself, she makes her way to the couch and sits down to enjoy.

A small smile forms on her face and she does a little happy dance as she quickly turns on her favorite show and digs in. She manages to finish almost the whole plate and sits it on the coffee table in front of her, pulling her legs up onto the couch to relax as she finishes up another episode.

When it’s over she finally forces herself up off the couch and to the kitchen to clean up the dishes she’s messed up, turning on some more music to keep her focused. Just as she’s finishing up, she hears the sound of her front door being opened and ultimately slammed shut. She apprehensively makes her way to the entrance of the kitchen and peeks her head out, relieved to see Steve standing in the living room, still in his uniform.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she chuckles, stepping into the room with him. Only then does she realize he’s literally panting as if he’d ran here from his mission, and she frowns as she begins to ask him what’s wrong.

Before she can even blink he’s got her pinned against their living room wall, his lips on hers. It takes her a moment but then she’s kissing him back with the same amount of aggression he gave her, and then he’s lifting her up until their hips are touching, immediately grinding against her.

The material of his suit is causing great friction, the fact that she’s wearing nothing but a pair of flimsy panties helping as well. They’re moaning into each other’s mouths, as they grind against one another, desperate to get off as quickly as possible.

They’re both lost in the bliss of their bodies on one another until Steve pulls away abruptly. “No,” he shakes his head. “Can’t take you right here, it’s not right. Have to go to the bed,” he says, but it’s more to himself than her, and she’s obliging and turning to leave. Until he grabs her arm and pulls her back to him, hoisting her up to his waist and pressing his lips to hers again. His hands move down to grip her ass cheeks as he begins the trek to their room, and he somehow manages to successfully tear the panties off of her with one hand, letting them fall to the floor as he walks.

As they finally make their way into the neat bedroom, he tosses YN onto the bed and she sees the literally feral look in his eyes, not concerned but curious as to what’s got him this way. Before she can ask him, he’s on her again, his hand reaching forward to palm her breasts, but she needs to make sure his head is in the right place before they move forward.

He’s a bit shocked when she rejects him, making him snap out of whatever daze he’d been in. “Steve. What’s going on with you?” she questions, a look of confusion on her face as she tries to think of what’s made him this way.

He looks at her for a beat as he reads her face, trying to figure out what the best way is to say this. A quick battle in his mind leads to him just coming right out and saying it. “I wanna have a baby,” he blurts, and YN’s eyes widen a fraction before going back to normal. For a moment it’s just silence, and he’s worried he’s done something wrong.

“Are you…sure about this?” she questions, choosing her words wisely. “I thought you weren’t ready,” she finishes. Her eyes wander over his face as she makes sure there’s nothing off with his demeanour, and sure enough, it’s the Steve she knows. But that doesn’t quell her confusion.

Steve is slightly offended by her question, his mood shifting just a bit. “What do you mean am I sure? Why else would I say this?” he scoffs, moving off of her to sit next to her. She sits up when he does, now a bit upset at his tone.

“Steve, just last month you told me you weren’t ready. You can’t be mad at me for wanting to be sure,” she reasons. Steve is confused for a moment until it all clicks.

~

One month earlier

YN and Steve both finally have a free day, deciding to spend it together. Instead of staying home, though, they opt for a day out on the town, hitting some shops and even stopping at a nearby bakery. In quiet bakery, they sit and indulge in their pastries and coffee as they make conversation about anything under the sun, until the sound of small cries catch their attention.

They both whip their heads over to the source and see a little baby boy no more than a few months old crying, and after a few moments of investigation they realize he’s dropped his binky out of the stroller. YN hops up and grabs it for the overwhelmed mother, tapping her on the shoulder as she’d been trying to console her son.

The woman is a little startled by YN’s presence but her eyes soften as she realizes what she’s holding, thanking YN for returning the binky back to her. “No problem, I couldn’t just leave it down there while you tried to find it or figure out where it was,” she explains, smiling softly. From there, the woman and YN go into a small conversation about her son, and YN’s heart just melts at how fondly the mother, whose name she found out was Harper, spoke of her son Jacob.

The two finish up their conversation with an exchange of numbers, and YN heads back to Steve with a pep in her step, sitting down with a smile. Almost immediately she goes into how cute Jacob was and everything she and the mother had talked about. In the midst of her rambling, she hadn’t noticed Steve had gotten quiet until now.

“I can’t wait to be a mom someday! Can you imagine a little me or a little you running around one day?” she asked, still smiling brightly. The smile was quickly wiped from her face when Steve didn’t answer her, but stood up and announced he was ready to go home. Her frown deepens at that, and she quietly gathers her things and they start the trek home, walking in silence beside one another as YN keeps herself from breaking down on the middle of the sidewalk.

They arrive home after what felt like an eternity to her, and she speeds to the bathroom and closes the door behind her, turning on the shower before letting herself begin to cry. She thought she’d been discreet with her sobs, but not long after she hears the bathroom door open and she silences herself. Through the foggy glass of the shower she can see Steve begin to strip down before he’s climbing in with her. Her back is to him but he already knows what’s happening so he turns her to him and pulls her into his chest.

The sobs start up again immediately, now with no restraint as she doesn’t need to hide from him anymore. He’s soothing her silently, rubbing his hand up and down her back and hasn’t stopped scolding himself for the way he reacted. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers once her cries quiet to small sniffles.

She shakes her head against him and he frowns, leaning back to get a good look at her face as she begins to speak. “No, I’m sorry,” she starts, and he’s about to say something but she stops him. “I jumped the gun, I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you so early. I know we’ve only been married for two months and-,” she’s cut off by the feeling of his lips on hers, silencing her rambling.

“Baby,” he whispers, even more guilty now that she feels it’s her fault. “Stop that right now. This is not your fault, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” he firmly tells her, making sure she doesn’t believe she’s at fault. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just…I think I need a little bit more time. My life is so crazy and I want to be invested fully,” he explains.

“I should have expressed that, and I want you to know that as soon as I am ready you will be the first to know,” he finishes.

“I know and I’m sorry. We definitely need more time with just us,” she responds, her worries not completely leaving but staying in the back of her mind for the time being.

~

Now

“The mission I was just on…we were outnumbered,” he starts, taking her hands in his. “We almost died. And all I could think about as we were fighting as you. How you were here waiting for me to come home. I thought about coming home to you and our kids, the way I know you’d love them the way you love me, and I don’t want to die without getting to experience that with you,” he explains, and she’s listening intently as she takes in his words

“It’s just… I don’t want you to regret this later. I’d rather not be pregnant or a mother alone or have you resent me because I rushed you into this,” she explains to him, expressing her worries.

He was a little hurt by her words but he understands where she’s coming from, frowning as he sees the tears falling from her eyes. Reaching up he thumbs them away before speaking again. “I know, baby. And I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I would never,” he starts, pausing to think over his next words.

“I’ve taken a break from saving the world for a bit. They’ve got it under control,” he smiles, pulling her in again as she cries harder at his revelation. “All I could think about while I was in there was us and our family, how happy we could be together. There’s nothing I want more,” he finishes, his little speech making her heart melt.

She scans his face for any sign of regret and when she finds none, she’s all in. He can see her eyes change almost immediately, and she’s taking her shirt off before throwing it somewhere in the room. “Well if you’re ready, why don’t we get to it?” she questions, and there’s no hesitation. He’s up and stripping so fast she has no time to comprehend it. The moment he’s naked he finally looks up at her to see her with her legs spread, a hand in between them.

Thinking back on that day now, he can’t believe he even thought like that. All he can imagine now is the fact that he’s about to get his own personal slice of heaven, manhandling YN until she’s on her hands and knees in front of him. To provide himself with even more access to his favourite place he just reaches forward and pushes on her back until her face is buried in the duvet.

Seeing her all dripping and clenching around nothing sends the last bit of his restraint practically bleeding from his body as he takes his cock in his hand and strokes it a few times. YN wants to look back and see what he’s doing but she knows better, staying where he’s placed her.

“Can’t believe this is all for me,” he chokes, rubbing his thumb over the leaking, throbbing tip of himself. It’s only a few more seconds of his filthy moans and grumbling under his breath about how beautiful she looks before she’s inhaling sharply at the feeling of him parting her lips with his thumb and spitting filthily right where she needs him, her weepy hole clenching around nothing in anticipation.

“Please,” she begs, and Steve, never being one to deny her when she looks and sounds so pretty for him, obliges almost instantly. Not even a seconds later he’s gently gripping the base of his aching cock and parts her lips with the head, running it through to lubricate himself before he’s got the tip nudged at her entrance.

The sound it makes when he finally sinks himself into her is nothing short of obscene, a wet squelching sound accompanying the both of their moans of relief. He can barely contain himself when he immediately begins to thrust in and out of her, his body seemingly moving on its own to take what they both need.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to see you pregnant,” he grunts, his thrusts getting harder as his thoughts get dirtier. “Gonna keep you so full of my cum at all times to make sure it sticks. God, I can imagine it now. How beautiful you’ll look round and full of our kids,” he continues, and the way he used it in plural form doesn’t get lost on YN, her loud moans of pleasure being muffled slightly by the sheets.

Steve, always being one to want to hear what he’s doing to her, reaches forward and grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her up until he can hear her loud and clear. He can feel her legs start to shake and give out beneath her but he’s holding all of her weight up, fucking her as if his life depends on it, and to him it does. “You like the sound of that?” he asks, not slowing his punishing pace.

She can barely nod with the grip he has on her hair but she manages to, choking out a plea for him to do exactly that. “You wanna be so full of my cum at all times that you’re leaking down your legs, exhausted from how many times I work you on my cock?” he grits out through clenched teeth, trying to stave off his impending orgasm in an attempt to wait for hers.

No more words can leave her lips, just cries and sobs of pleasure as he’s drills so deep inside of her she can barely breathe. I mean he has to be puncturing her lungs at this point. Her orgasm is coming and it’s coming fast, but of course she can’t warn Steve, speechless. He knows her inside and out, though, and doesn’t need a warning to know what’s coming. (double pun is crazy)

“I know, don’t have to tell me. I can feel how tight you’re squeezing my cock. Go on, soak me, show me how much you want to be full of me and I’ll do just that,” he demands, and YN, always the obedient one, cums instantaneously. Her orgasm makes his hips stutter immediately as she locks down on him so tight, her body so tense that he can’t move. He lets go of her hair in a split decision, and he’s glad he did. He uses that same hand to reach around and rub at her clit quickly, making her tense up even tighter before relaxing entirely as she squirts all over the bed sheets below them, Steve praising her throughout the entire time.

Her orgasm sends him flying over the edge with a loud swear, his hips flush against hers as he floods her with his warm cum. It seems like it lasts for forever, his balls seeming to get fuller the more he cums. When he’s finally drained of all he has he stays buried inside of her for warmth for a while before he’s pulling out slowly and just sitting there and watching his cum start to drip from her.

He helps her fully lie down on her stomach before he’s getting off the bed, shushing her whines of protest. “Just gonna get you cleaned up, gonna be right back,” he coos, running a hand on her back to ground her a bit more so he can leave. She gives him a weak nod and then he’s hurrying out of the room to get a wet washcloth for her.

The process of cleaning her up is a bit rough with how sensitive she is but he makes it work, cleaning her up quickly and throughly before cleaning himself. He then helps her to the bathroom to pee, her body very weak but he knows she needs to do so.

When she’s all done they end up going into the guest room and sleeping there instead of sleeping on their soaked bed, Steve making a mental note to clean up first thing in the morning, he’s way too exhausted right now. When in the room, he helps her get all comfortable and tucked in before turning off the light and climbing in as well, pulling her into his embrace. The both of them start to doze immediately, and within a few minutes they’re both out, soft snores filling the room.

~

main masterlist

let me know what you thought about this!!! my ask box is open

requests open as well for all characters and all tropes!!!

[eccentricallygothic]

Oh... my fucking God???

© I do not own the picture.

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Captain Handsome

a/n: A blurb inspired by this post that my friend sent to me 😁 I don't read a lot of the comics... But I'm so sorry I missed out on this GOLDEN moment 😆

...the post in question...

Enjoy!

Tony made the whole system. This genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist not only built a working suit of armor in a cave, he also the AI and security system the entire team relies on, for anything and everything.

And having made the system, means that he has full control over said systems. Meaning... Codenames and security passwords are his to make as completely impenetrable and ridiculous as he wants.

"TONY!!! I THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDDING..." Steve groaned, frustrated that he couldn't set the security measures of the tower, no matter how many times he tried.

"I'd rather die, or go back into the ice for another 70 years, than say, that..."

"Exactly why it's effective! No bad guy could ever make you say it. So, it's full proof." Tony grinned, spinning around in his chair, utterly amused.

After some careful consideration...

"Fine... This is Captain Handsome ordering you to Rock and Roll on that 45." Steve said through gritted teeth, resting his head against his arms, leaning against the wall in defeat.

FRIDAY's confirmation was a small comfort to Steve's situation. Made even worse by the sound of a certain Avengers Trainee, trying and failing to contain her laughter. It growing louder until they were full blown fits, that made her stomach hurt more than sparring with Nat, and spill the coffee she had prepared for after the Briefing, all over the floor in front of her.

"Worth it!" Tony yelled as the doors closed and Y/N collapsed on the nearby sofa, unable to control her laughter.

Steve Rogers Masterlist

Chris Evans Characters Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[f10werfae]

Pillowy Thighs

pairing: Husband!Chris Evans x Plus size!Wife!Reader

summary: Y/n feels insecure watching all the other girls in the club, so Chris shows his wife why he loves watching her body move (requested by @aerangi )

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“What’s wrong honey? My sweet gorgeous wife” Chris whispered into Y/n’s ear, his hands kneading the flesh on her hips affectionately, his hands tracing each of her stretch marks as if he’d memorised them. “Nothin, maybe you should ask Jessica to dance” Y/n huffed turning away from him, so when he leant in for a kiss, his lips hit her full cheeks instead.

“Hey hey now, what’s up?” Chris asked furrowing his brows, not paying attention to the rest of the party on the dance floor, his eyes trained on his wife’s beautiful face. “What i’m saying is, maybe you should dance with Jessica, rather than someone like me” Y/n shrugged turning back to the bar, swirling the liquor mindlessly in her glass. Motioning to the bartender who had been ogling Chris for most of the night, Chris of course being polite kept the conversation short.

“What’s that supposed to fuckin mean? Someone ‘like’ you?” Chris growled spinning Y/n’s face back to meet his, his expression hurt and angry. “Well-“

“Well? Fuckin well what? I wanna dance with my sexy ass wife on the dance floor and watch how her body moves” Chris’ head dipped to Y/n’s, his stubble covered cheek against hers, as his hands slowly felt up her doughy thighs which he swear he could live between if he could.

“B-but mine doesn’t move like that?” Y/n whined crossing her arms over her middle, nodding her head towards the typical club girls which were going crazy on the dance floor, their bodies grinding up against each other’s and everyone around them. Chris’ eyes didn’t even stray once, instead.

“C’mere baby, come dance with your man, your husband” Chris grumbled interlacing both their hands together, his head looking her up and down, leading him to whistle out as he admired the blue jewelled dress she had on; it accentuated all her curves perfectly. From the curve of her breasts, to her stomach, to her waist and finally her pillowy thighs.

“Okay but are you sure I belong here? with you?” Y/n asked shyly, her hands holding onto Chris’ forearms as they found a less crowded corner, his lips already attacking her jaw and neck feverishly. “You’re right where you belong honey, in my arms. Now turn around and let me love on my wife alright?”

Nodding Y/n turned around, feeling one of Chris’ arms wrap around her from shoulder to shoulder, while his other hand groped her ass through the dress gently. Together with the fast beat, Chris turned her jaw to the side so his lips could meet hers, anyone around them if they dared to look could see the couple passionately frenching on the dance floor without a care in the world.

“Arms around my neck baby” Chris growled, both of his hands going to settle on her waist, guiding her hips to the music. Y/n slightly whimpered as she reached both her hands behind her head to settle on Chris’ nape, letting his hands shamelessly grind her ass onto his hardened cock.

“See baby? That’s how you make me feel, no body else can do that to me. Only you Y/n, just you” Y/n nodded now wiggling her hips backwards, “atta girl” Chris whispered kissing her shoulder once more, his hand moving up from her waist to settle just below her breast.

“You’re crazy if you think i’d ever hate these tits, just look at how they bounce, fuck, s’all for me honey” Chris chuckled lewdly, cupping both of them harshly, letting them just bounce in his hand as they both humped their bodies together. “So don’t you ever fuckin’ say that I should dance with someone else that isn’t my wife, I only dance with you” Chris growled jerking his hips harsher, both of them more or less fucking with layers of clothes between them.

“Y-yes I understand, m’sorry” Y/n whimpered, thankfully everyone else was too drunk off their heads to realise what was going on in that one corner. “Turn around honey” Looking into Chris’ eyes, both of their hips slowed down, the both of them lovingly just swaying their bodies together; all their hands wandering all over each other.

“I love you so damn much, n’ don’t you ever forget it, ya hear me?”

“Hear you loud and clear” Feeling his hands grab a handful of her ass, Y/n leant up and kissed him sweetly, his bottom lip between her teeth as she bit it softly. “This body of yours isn’t the only reason i’m with you, this beautiful mind of yours” Chris kissed her temple sweetly, “And this pure beating heart, which beats for hopefully just me” Chris chuckled pointing to her left breast, leaning down and kissing it sweetly.

“Stop being so cheesy, you’re turning me on even more” Y/n smirked pulling him by his collar, giggling as she pressed kisses to his neck and jaw, an array of lipstick stains now covering him. “Can’t help it, love you too much”. Chris breathed out in the middle of the kiss, before smashing his lips back against hers, the kiss turning sloppy and wet quickly.

“Hold on, let me appreciate my wife’s body a lil longer” Chris said hesitatingly pulling away, a string of saliva connecting their lips. Using his large hands, he turned her around and immediately bent her over, dancing against her body in the doggy position; his hips pounding against the soft pudge of her ass wildly. “C-Chris, fuck, leave this to the bedroom baby” Y/n whimpered, feeling her body being pulled back up flush against his chest, his hands around her waist as he kissed her head gently.

“If you say so honey, let me go grab your purse and we’ll get going” …

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Love your skin baby, always so smooth n’ soft like butter” Chris mumbled raining small wet kisses all over Y/n’s breasts, slowly making his way to her stomach where his hands massaged the flesh softly, even biting it every so often.

“How can you ever hate on yourself baby, you’re goddamn sexy, look at this” Chris said holding eye contact as he kissed her puffy pussy, his lips softly kissing and nuzzling into it as he breathed in her sweet scent. Y/n whimpered as she felt his tongue sort through her slick folds, his face coming back up, a wide goofy grin on him with his face wet with her sweet nectar. “Could eat ya all day honey, and these thighs, shit” He breathed out leaving open mouthed kisses on each one, coating them in colourful hickies just for them to see.

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @tojisbabymomma @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @tinyelfperson @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @cevansgurl @marvelgurl @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mysticfalls01 @mdpplgtz03 @mirikusashes @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @meetmeatyourworst @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @roofwitty779 @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @bluebellsn @lastwandastan @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @bval-1 @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @hatsparkle @daddymack01 @keiva1000 @acornacre @minaxcarter @thebaileybugle

[buckets-and-trees]

Taking You Home

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 6.2k Summary: After waking up in Curtis's booth at Obsidian Stain Studio, you decide to explore more with the two men who've just ruined you.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, mfm threesome, kissing, oral (female and male receiving), spit roasting, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, marking, overstimulation, after care, insatiable sexual appetites, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, manhandling, allusions to voyeurism/exhibitionism

Author Notes: While not strictly a series, this is the second of probably four stories I plan to write for these three...

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You groan as you blink back into consciousness, the light too bright, and the the sound and feel of everything not as familiar as it should be.

And then there’s a warm hand on your cheek, and you lean into it, but that doesn’t seem quite right either.

“Welcome back,” Ari says with a soft chuckle.

You gasp and jolt up, memories flooding back to you now all at once. You're still in the tattoo chair, but it's been adjusted to a more upright position. A large, soft flannel shirt drapes over you, its sleeves hanging past your fingertips. The scent of pine and musk clings to the fabric, oddly comforting in its unfamiliarity.

Ari places a hand on your shoulder, easing you back into the chair. Your eyes scan around the room, taking in your surroundings with remembered clarity. The harsh fluorescent lights that had seemed so bright moments ago now reveal the familiar setting of the tattoo parlor booth. The buzz of machines has been replaced by a gentle hum of activity and soft rock music playing from a distant speaker.

"Easy there," Ari murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "You're alright. Here, have a drink."

He reaches behind him, retrieving a bottle of water and handing it to you.

You reach for the water bottle with shaky hands, your fingers brushing against Ari's as you take it from him. The cool plastic feels grounding against your skin. You unscrew the cap, the faint crackle of the seal breaking seeming unnaturally loud in the quiet booth. The first sip of water is a relief, soothing your parched throat. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were until the cool liquid touched your lips.

As you drink, you become acutely aware of the aches in your body - a dull throb from your freshly tattooed ribs, a deeper, more intimate soreness that makes you shift uncomfortably in the chair. The flannel shirt - Curtis’s, you realize - rustles softly with your movement, the fabric soft against your bare skin.

As if thinking of the man has summoned him back, Curtis returns to the booth, his hands full of cleaning supplies.

Curtis's eyes meet yours, a mix of concern and something darker flickering in their icy depths. "How are you feeling, sugar?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

You take another sip of water, buying yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. How do you feel? Sore, certainly. Overwhelmed, definitely. But there's also a strange sense of contentment, a warmth that has nothing to do with the flannel shirt draped over you.

"I'm okay," you manage to say, your voice a bit hoarse. "A little sore."

Curtis nods, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "That's to be expected. You took us both so well."

The memory of what transpired earlier floods back, causing heat to rise in your cheeks. You look down, suddenly unable to meet either man's gaze, and you take another swig of water.

Curtis gets to cleaning his tools and his station. Ari seems to give you a moment, but you can feel his eyes on you, and then he lays his hand on your knee and squeezes gently. You look up and give him a tight smile.

As you take another drink, your eyes roam over Ari's face, taking in the soft concern still etched in his features. His blue eyes, which had been dark with desire earlier, now shine with a gentler light. You notice a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, a few strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. It's a strangely intimate detail that makes your heart flutter.

“Do you have plans after this?” he asks.

“Um…”

“Because we’d like to take you to our place, do this more properly, see where things go.”

Your eyes widen at Ari's suggestion, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through you. The idea of going home with them, of continuing this unexpected adventure, is both thrilling and terrifying.

"I..." you start, then pause, unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to say yes immediately, to dive headfirst into whatever this is. But another part, the more cautious side, hesitates.

Curtis looks up from his cleaning, his ice-blue eyes locking onto yours. "No pressure, sugar," he says, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But we'd like to take care of you properly."

Ari nods in agreement. "We got a bit... carried away earlier," he admits, a hint of regret in his tone. "We just want to make sure you're okay, and, honestly, we'd like to explore this further if you're interested."

You bite your lip, considering their offer. You look from Ari to Curtis. His ice blue eyes are intense, but there's a warmth there that wasn't present before. "We don't usually do this, sugar," he says, his voice low.

“And by ‘don’t usually,’” Ari interjects, “he means we’ve never done this.”

Your eyes widen at this revelation, a mixture of surprise and intrigue coursing through you. The knowledge that this is as new for them as it is for you adds an unexpected layer of vulnerability to the situation.

"Never?" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Curtis shakes his head, a rare hint of uncertainty in his usually confident demeanor. "Never like this," he confirms. "We've had our fun, sure, but…"

"But nothing like what happened here," Ari finishes for him. "Never in the studio, and certainly never shared anyone before.”

“Until you,” Curtis confirms.

The weight of their words settles over you, and you find yourself at a crossroads. The rational part of your brain screams caution, reminding you of the risks, the unknowns. It tells you to politely decline, to go home and process everything that’s happened. But there's another part, a part that's been awakened by these two men, that yearns to explore this connection further.

"Okay," you hear yourself say, surprising even yourself with the decisiveness in your voice. "I'd like that."

But maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. Getting your first tattoo had been significant, a mark of a new chapter in your life where you made more bold choices about your life. Coming back for the second one had been wanting more beautiful ink on your skin, yes, but this time around it had also been to see what you had left unexplored with Ari, only to end up with Curtis, and then to have such strong connections with them both.

If you were trying to let go of rigidity in your life and make more decisions based on being happy, not on the expectations of others, to allow yourself to explore, this certainly hit that mark.

And that’s what you remind yourself of when you’re in the shower in their home just over half an hour later. You’d ridden over with them in Curtis’s old truck - old but beautifully well-kept - taking the middle of the full-length leather bench seat. Ari spoke more than the quieter Curtis, but the conversation had been easy between you three together.

They’d shown you quickly around the modestly-sized bungalow house, then Curtis suggested you shower while they waited for the dinner Ari had already ordered ahead to be delivered on the drive over. You’d agreed, feeling sweaty and sticky from the earlier sex, and also wanting a moment to yourself. The hot water running over your skin felt nice, but after the first few minutes, you found yourself more anxious being alone and eager to be back with them. It seemed strange to be away from the men while you were in their house, and you also wanted to uncover more of what this might be.

You only showered from shoulders down, keeping your face and hair dry, while also being careful around your freshly tattooed ribs. Stepping out of the shower, you quickly towel off, and hang the towel on the rack. When you look to the bathroom counter, your clothes are gone, but have been replaced with a pair of grey sweat pants and a soft looking, forest green t-shirt. They’ll both be big on you, but there’s a drawstring in the waistband of the sweats.

You slip into the borrowed clothes, the soft fabric a comfort against your clean skin. The t-shirt hangs loosely on your frame, the neckline dipping low enough to reveal your collarbone. You roll up the hem of the sweatpants and cinch the drawstring tight around your waist.

Taking a deep breath, you open the bathroom door and pad barefoot down the hallway. The smell of food wafts through the air, making your stomach rumble. You realize you haven't eaten since before your tattoo appointment, and suddenly you're ravenous.

You hear the low murmur of voices as you approach, which die away as you enter the living room. Ari and Curtis were setting out takeout containers on the coffee table. They both look up at you, their eyes roaming appreciatively over your form in their clothes.

"Feel better?" Ari asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You nod, returning his smile. "Much better, thank you," you reply, your voice soft. The smell of food draws you closer, your stomach growling audibly.

Ari chuckles. "Sounds like someone's hungry.”

“Come on, sugar,” Curtis reaches for your arm and tugs you closer, “let's get some food in you."

You move to join them, settling on the plush couch between the two men. The coffee table is laden with an array of Chinese takeout containers, the aroma making your mouth water.

Ari hands you a plate and a pair of chopsticks. "Help yourself to whatever you like," he says, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

As you start to collect an array of the delicious spread on your plate, Curtis reaches for another of the containers, watching you. "So," he says, his voice casual but his eyes intense, "tell us more about yourself. What do you do when you're not getting tattoos and driving tattoo artists wild?"

You laugh and bite your lip a little. Driving them wild? The notion that they’d really been thinking about you makes your heart race.

You play off the latter part of the question, but do begin to share some of the standard stuff.

Plate filled with a good array of food to start off with, you sit back and settle in, acutely aware of their warmth on either side of you. The domesticity of the moment - sharing a meal, dressed in comfortable clothes - contrasts sharply with the intensity of your earlier encounter, creating an intriguing dynamic. That had been surreal, overwhelming. This is tangible, even cozy. Yet, there's still an undercurrent of electricity, a tension humming just beneath the surface.

The three of you eat and talk. Bouncing between the three of you, it’s across the board from where you’re from, where you work, hobbies and interests, friends and family, nothing too deep, but all of the good beginning pieces.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The initial awkwardness fades, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie. You're surprised by how easy it is to talk to them, how naturally the conversation flows.

Curtis, you discover, has a dry wit that catches you off guard, making you laugh unexpectedly. Ari is more openly charming, his stories animated and engaging. You find yourself drawn into their world, fascinated by the glimpses they offer into their lives.

Their dynamic fascinates you. At times they seem like oil and water. You learn that they met working at the tattoo parlor - both of them had ties to Steve, the owner of Obsidian Stain and Sin. They admit they would never have ended up roommates except Curtis had been closing on this house about the time Ari and his wife separated (then divorced), and timing just seemed to make it convenient. From what you see, though, three years of cohabitation has forged a strong, almost fraternal bond between them.

Curtis reaches for your empty plate, his fingers brushing against yours. "All done, sugar?" he asks, his voice low and warm.

You nod, suddenly aware of how close he is. "Thank you, it was delicious."

Ari stretches, his arm coming to rest on the back of the couch behind you. "So, now that we've fed you," he says, a hint of mischief in his eyes, "what would you like to do next?"

As the question hangs in the air, you feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks. The earlier encounter at the tattoo parlor flashes through your mind - intense, frenzied, almost dreamlike in its surreal passion. But now, in the cozy comfort of their home, you find yourself craving something different.

"I…" you start, then pause, gathering your courage. "I'd like to take things slower this time. To really savor it."

Curtis's eyes darken with approval, while Ari's lips curve into a slow, sensual smile.

"Slow can be good," Ari murmurs, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder through the borrowed t-shirt. "Very good."

Curtis leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "We can do slow, sugar. We can take all night if that's what you want."

A shiver runs down your spine at Curtis's words, his low voice sending tingles across your skin. You turn your head slightly, meeting his intense gaze. The icy blue of his eyes has darkened with desire, and you find yourself drawn in, unable to look away.

Ari's hand slides from your shoulder down your arm, brushing the backs of his fingers along your skin, drawing goosebumps in their wake. "Why don't we start by getting more comfortable?" he suggests, his voice a low purr that makes your breath catch.

You nod, not trusting your voice to remain steady. Curtis stands first, offering you his hand. You take it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Ari follows, his hand never leaving your body as he rises.

They lead you down the hallway to a spacious bedroom. The king-sized bed dominates the room, its dark sheets inviting and intimidating all at once. Ari gently turns your face towards him, his blue eyes dark with desire. "May I kiss you?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in. His lips meet yours in a kiss that's both tender and passionate, a stark contrast to the frenzied encounters earlier. You melt into it, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

As Ari kisses you, you feel Curtis shift behind you. His strong hands find your waist, slipping under the hem of the borrowed t-shirt to caress the soft skin of your lower back. His touch is deliberate, exploratory, but mindful of your freshly tattooed ribs, and it sends shivers of pleasure through your body.

Ari breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath. You feel Curtis's lips brush against the nape of your neck, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder. The dual sensations make you dizzy with desire.

"Is this okay?" Ari murmurs, his hands cupping your face.

You nod, unable to find words as Curtis's hands slide around to your stomach, his fingers splaying wide across your skin, seeming to have no cares for your soft belly, touching in a way that dispells your own typical self-consciousness over your figure.

“Words,” Ari is insistent to prompt.

"Yes," you manage to whisper, your voice breathy and low.

Ari smiles, then leans in to kiss you again, this time with more intensity. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. You part your lips, granting Ari access as his tongue slides against yours. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate but still maintaining a languid, exploratory pace. Curtis continues his ministrations on your neck, alternating between soft kisses and gentle nips that make you gasp into Ari's mouth.

Ari's hands slide down your sides, avoiding your freshly tattooed ribs, and come to rest on your hips. His thumbs trace small circles on your hipbones, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Curtis's hands, still splayed across your stomach, begin to inch higher, his touch feather-light and teasing, brushing up against the underswell of your breasts.

Ari breaks the kiss again, his eyes dark with desire. "Let's get you out of these clothes," he murmurs, his fingers playing with the hem of your borrowed shirt.

Since they took your bra and panties to the laundry along with your other clothes, you’re acutely aware of how little - only the shirt and sweatpants - stand between you and nakedness. But you nod, lifting your arms, and Ari slowly peels the shirt off. As your top half is laid bare, you feel momentarily exposed, but the way both men look at you - with hunger and appreciation - quells any insecurity.

Then Curtis turns you in his arms and traces a finger under your jaw. “You need to know we will always take care of you, but we also want to thoroughly ruin you.”

A ripple of fear and intrigue surges through you, and you shiver, pressed between them.

"Is that what you want, sugar?" Curtis asks, his voice low and gravelly. "To be thoroughly ruined by us?"

You swallow hard, looking up into his intense blue eyes. "I think I'd like that," you whisper, surprised by your own boldness.

Ari's hands slide around your waist from behind, his chest pressing against your back. "We'll take it slow," he murmurs in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "But we won’t hold back unless you tell us if something is too much."

You nod, unable to find your voice for a moment. Then, remembering Ari's earlier insistence, you whisper, "Yes. Please."

A slow, predatory smile spreads across Curtis's face. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. His tongue explores your mouth, dominating and possessive. You moan into the kiss, your hands coming up to clutch at his shirt.

Meanwhile, Ari's hands roam your hips, fingers tracing the waistband of the borrowed sweatpants. He hooks his thumbs under the elastic, slowly sliding them down your legs. You step out of them, now completely naked between the two fully clothed men.

Curtis breaks the kiss, his eyes raking over your exposed form. "Gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

Ari's hands glide up your sides to cup your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, causing them to harden into tight peaks. You gasp at the sensation, arching into his touch.

"Sensitive," Ari observes, a smile in his voice. He continues his gentle ministrations, rolling your nipples between his fingers and Curtis watches, his eyes dark with lust.

Then Curtis drops to his knees in front of you, his hands running up the backs of your thighs. He looks up at you, his ice-blue eyes dark with lust. "Spread your legs.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you comply, widening your stance. Curtis's hands slide up to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh appreciatively. His hot breath ghosts over your inner thighs, making you shiver with anticipation.

Ari's lips find the curve of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. His fingers continue to work your breasts, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer kneading. The dual sensations of Ari's ministrations and Curtis's teasing touch have you trembling with need.

Curtis leans in and presses a kiss first to your mound. You whimper, wanting those lips lower. He chuckles, but a moment later he satisfies your craving, dipping lower, his tongue darting out to taste you. You gasp at the contact, your hips jerking involuntarily. He chuckles against you again, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you.

"Steady, sugar," he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place.

Ari's lips brush against your ear as Curtis's tongue delves deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of your most intimate area. "Look at you," Ari murmurs, his voice low and husky. "So beautiful, so responsive. Wet and eager for us, aren’t you?”

You whimper, unable to form words as Curtis's skilled tongue finds your clit, circling it with exquisite pressure. Your legs tremble, and you're grateful for Ari's strong arms supporting you from behind. “Can you feel how good Curtis is making you feel?"

You can only moan in response, your hips rolling against Curtis's face as his tongue tortures your clit, undeterred, a desperate edge of hunger to it. Ari's hands continue their ministrations on your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

"I bet you taste divine," Ari continues, his breath hot against your neck. "Curtis is savoring every drop of you, isn't he? Look at how eagerly he's devouring your sweet pussy."

Blinking open your eyes, you peer down to witness Curtis's ice-blue gaze unwaveringly locked on yours as he diligently presses his lips and tongue against your sensitive flesh in a delightfully intoxicating rhythm.

Ari's voice continues to weave a sensual spell, his words sending shivers down your spine. "Watch him explore every fold, every crease. Can you feel how he's drinking you in?"

Curtis's eyes remain locked on yours as his tongue delves deeper, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks against your clit. A sudden involuntary shift of your hips is met by his strong hands gripping your waist, maintaining control.

"I bet you taste like honey and sin," Ari purrs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Sweet and intoxicating. Curtis can't get enough of you, can he? Look at how he's losing himself in your pussy."

A soft moan escapes you as the dual sensations of Ari's provocative words and Curtis's expert exploration create an all-consuming sensory experience. The gentle scrape of Curtis's stubble against the tender skin of your inner thighs leaves a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake while he sucks on your clit, holding you firmly in place.

“We started to talk about you, about all the things we wanted to try,” Ari continues. “And anytime you came up, it escalated, until we started scheming over what we could do to you together,” Ari's voice drops even lower, his words a sensual caress against your ear. "We imagined tasting every inch of your skin, exploring every curve and valley of your body. Curtis would fantasize about burying his face between your thighs, just like he's doing now. Can you feel how hungry he is for you?"

Your breath hitches as Curtis's tongue flicks rapidly against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Ari's hands continue their assault on your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples until they're almost painfully sensitive.

"I'd picture how your eyes would flutter shut in ecstasy, how your lips would part in a silent scream of pleasure," Ari continues, his voice thick with desire. "But silent screams won’t be good enough for what we’re going to do."

Your breath catches in your throat as Curtis's tongue flickers with increasing speed and precision over your clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through your core. Ari's hands persist in their exploration of your breasts, teasing and tormenting your nipples with an urgency that leaves them tingling and hypersensitive.

“You have no idea the things we’ve talked about,” Ari presses on. The pressure in your core builds, aching for release as Ari's seductive words fuel your desire. "Dirty things. Depraved things. Things you’ll only ever experience with us. We want to make you lose control, push you past your limits, see how much pleasure you can truly handle."

You moan louder now, unable to keep quiet any longer as the two men continue their assault on your senses. Their combined efforts push you closer and closer to the edge until finally, with a shudder and a cry of pure ecstasy, you reach orgasm.

Curtis eagerly laps up the remnants of your pleasure, a satisfied moan escaping him. Though you are momentarily lost in the haze of bliss, Ari brings you back to the present with a sudden slap to your breast. You gasp and flinch in his embrace, but before you can react further, he scoops you up and tosses you onto the bed. Following closely behind, he hoists you upwards by your hips until you find yourself on all fours, vulnerable and eager for the next stage of this illicit exploration.

You feel Ari shifting to remove his shirt behind you, hear him toss it to the floor, all the while your body still tingling from the sensations that just overwhelmed it. You look around for Curtis, pleased to find him coming around to the other side of the bed. You watch, mesmerized as Curtis shrugs out of his shirt and laying it aside, revealing a toned chest covered in coarse hair and intricate patterns of ink. His stomach muscles ripple under your gaze as he steps closer.

Curtis approaches you, his eyes dark with desire. He reaches out, caressing your cheek before gripping gently at the nape of your neck. "Open," he commands softly.

You comply without hesitation, parting your lips as Curtis guides your head towards his crotch. With his free hand, he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. You watch, breath quickening, as he frees his hardened length from the confines of his underwear.

Ari leans down and presses himself against your back. You feel the heat of his body and inhale the scent of his cologne. His large hands knead your hips, stoking the needy ache in your core back up. “You're so fucking beautiful," he says, his voice dripping with desire. “You ready for both of us?”

Curtis guides the tip of his cock to your lips. "Take me in, sugar," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "Show me what that pretty mouth can do."

You part your lips wider, welcoming Curtis's thick length into your mouth. As you take him in, you feel Ari's hands spreading your legs further apart. The anticipation of what's to come makes you tremble with desire.

Curtis groans as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. "That's it," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Take me deeper."

You comply, relaxing your throat to take more of him in. The taste of him, musky and masculine, fills your senses. Behind you, you feel Ari's hands caressing your ass, kneading the flesh appreciatively.

"Look at you," Ari says, his voice thick with lust. "So eager for us. Your pussy is dripping, begging to be filled."

You moan around Curtis's cock at Ari's words, the vibrations eliciting a deep groan from him. His fingers tighten in your hair, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down his length.

Behind you, you feel the blunt head of Ari's cock pressing against your entrance. He teases you, sliding it up and down your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. "You want this?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

Unable to speak with Curtis in your mouth, you push your hips back, silently begging for Ari to fill you. He chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he murmurs, then slowly, torturously, he begins to push inside you.

You gasp around Curtis's cock as Ari stretches you, filling you inch by inch. Ari's thick length stretches you deliciously as he pushes deeper, his grip on your hips tightening. "God, you're tight," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "So wet and hot for us."

Curtis's hand in your hair tightens, guiding you to take him deeper into your mouth. You relax your throat, allowing him to slide further in until you feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickling your nose. He holds you there for a moment, your nose pressed against his pelvis, before slowly pulling back.

"Go on," Curtis growls, his ice-blue eyes dark with lust. "Take it all."

Ari begins a steady rhythm, his thrusts deep and purposeful. Each time he pushes in, it forces you further onto Curtis's cock, creating a delicious cycle of penetration. The dual sensations of being filled from both ends overwhelm you, pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body.

"That's it, baby," Ari purrs, his voice dripping with lust. "Take us both. You're doing so well, stretching around my cock while you swallow Curtis down." His hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you back onto him with each thrust.

Curtis's grip on your hair tightens, his other hand coming to cup your jaw. "Look at me," he growls. You raise your eyes to meet his intense gaze, ice blue eyes dark with desire. "Good girl," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the apple of your cheek as your eyes well with tears.

The intensity of their ministrations overwhelms you, pleasure and sensation flooding every nerve. Ari's thrusts grow more forceful, each one driving you further onto Curtis's length.

"So fucking tight," Ari groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. "Taking us both so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You moan around Curtis's cock, the vibrations eliciting a deep growl from him. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your movements, holding you far down on him, and he goes for a shallow rut, pulling back only a fraction with each rock of his hips, dominating your mouth.

Your eyes water as he pushes deeper, testing the limits of your throat.

Ari's hands grip your hips tighter, his fingers surely leaving marks on your skin. "You're ours now," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Gonna fill you up, mark you from the inside out."

Their bodies continue to move in unison, sweat dripping down their flushed skin as they moan and curse.

"Fuck," Curtis hisses, his hips jerking. "I'm close."

His cock twitches in your mouth, and you know he’s close to the edge. His hips buck more wildly, but he keeps his eyes locked on yours, until finally, with a loud cry, he spills his seed down your throat. You stare into each others eyes, and the possessive intimacy of that moment rocks your to your core, as you do your best to swallow every bit of him.

Seemingly as affected as you, the second he withdraws his cock from your mouth, he’s stooping to claim it in a kiss, even while you’re gasping for air. He doesn’t care, desperate to devour you. His release is on your tongue, and that seems to make him feral, but you also taste yours in his mouth, and both of you moan into each other, tongues stroking and tangling. You don’t need to breathe, you need him consuming you like this, his lips as eager against your lips as they were against your cunt.

Ari's thrusts become more frenzied, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with your moans.

“Fuuuuck,” Ari’s voice is primal from behind you. “You were right, watching someone else wreck her while inside her is unreal.”

Your brain glitches at his claim - that they talked about you like this, that he’s saying it right now? Your cunt clenches around Ari’s cock, and he groans. You feel him twitch inside you, and you whimper.

“Mmm, you like that, baby,” he says, no question at all. His hand snakes beneath you, and he begins tapping your puffy clit.

You cry out, bucking at the assault, and Curtis pulls away to watch you fall apart even more.

"Come for us, sugar," he growls, still holding your face in his hands. "Let go."

And the combination of his words with Ari’s thrusts and the torment of your oversensitive clit have you shaking and shouting out incoherently.

“Flip her,” Ari instructs Curtis, and Curtis deftly and swiftly grips your shoulders and has you on your back the next second. You grip his arms, needing to hold on to something as your head is spinning in pleasure and with the swift repositioning. As you look up, it’s to the intimidating but glorious sight of these men looming over you. Curtis is still watching your face, and it’s with difficulty that you tear your gaze away from him, but Ari’s grunts and heavy breathing beg for your attention, and you watch, transfixed, as he furiously fists his cock, bringing himself to finish. He cocks his head up in triumph as he groans and shoots his load over your stomach and chest, hot ropes of cum sinfully marking you.

You lay there panting, your body trembling with aftershocks as you try to process the intensity of what just happened. Curtis and Ari hover over you, their eyes roaming your body appreciatively, taking in the sight of you marked and thoroughly debauched, face flushed, chest heaving.

"Incredible," Ari murmurs, his hand tracing patterns through his release on your stomach.

Curtis leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss. When he pulls away, his ice-blue eyes are dark with satisfaction. "You did well, sugar," he praises, his voice low and gravelly.

He cups one of your cheeks in his hand, and you lean into the touch. Then he licks the trail of salty tears from your other cheek, and the gesture deals a bolt of heat through you again, though you feel exhausted and boneless.

“Think I could become addicted to you,” he murmurs quietly, and Ari grunts in agreement.

Ari disappears for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He gently cleans you up, his touch tender in contrast to the roughness of moments before. The care in his actions makes your heart flutter.

Curtis takes the chance to step away briefly, as well. He’s back once you’re clean, and helps you sit up, supporting your back and handing you a glass of water.

You accept the glass gratefully, your throat parched from exertion. As you sip the cool water, you feel the bed dip on either side of you as Curtis and Ari settle in next to you. Their warm, solid presence is comforting, grounding you after the intense experience.

Curtis keeps a steadying hand on your back as you finish the water, then takes the empty glass from you.

"How are you feeling?" Ari asks softly, his hand resting on your thigh.

You take a moment to assess yourself. Your body feels pleasantly sore, used in the most delicious way. There's a lingering tingle of satisfaction coursing through you, mixed with a sense of vulnerability that's both thrilling and slightly overwhelming.

"I'm... good," you manage to say, your voice a bit hoarse. "Really good, actually."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Glad to hear it."

Curtis takes the now-empty glass from your hands. His eyes rarely seem to leave you, always intense on you. It’s as intimidating as it is captivating. It truly takes someone with Ari’s charisma and assertive manner to compete with the way Curtis’s intense stoicism draws you in. They’re a dangerous force to be reckoned with.

They both lean in to you, beginning to slowly kiss and touch you again, and you hold onto each of them, one hand tangling into Ari’s luscious hair, the other snaking around Curtis’s strong back.

As Curtis and Ari press closer, hands and lips exploring your body with renewed curiosity, you can't help but marvel at their seemingly endless stamina. Their touches are gentle yet purposeful, igniting sparks of pleasure across your skin.

Curtis's lips trail along your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin. His hand cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple, coaxing it to a hard peak. You gasp at the sensation, your body still hypersensitive from your recent orgasms.

Ari's hand slides up your inner thigh, his fingers dancing teasingly close to your core. His lips find yours in a deep, languid kiss that leaves you breathless. When he pulls away, his blue eyes are dark with renewed desire.

"Think you can go again, beautiful?" Ari murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You swallow hard, your breath catching in your throat. "I... I think so," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

Curtis smirks, his ice-blue eyes glinting with approval. “Think we may have you passing out again?”

Ari laughs, and your face flushes as you bite your lip. You let out a shaky breath, both intimidated and thrilled by the prospect of more. "Maybe," you admit softly, "but I'm willing to find out."

Curtis's smirk widens into a predatory grin. "Oh, sugar," he growls, his hand sliding down your stomach, "we're going to have so much fun with you."

Ari's lips find your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. "We're going to take you apart," he murmurs against your skin, "piece by piece, until you're nothing but a quivering mess of pleasure."

Their words send a shiver down your spine, arousal pooling in your core despite your recent orgasms. You feel almost drunk on their attention, their touches, their promises of more pleasure to come. You surrender yourself to their touch. The night is still young, and you find yourself eager to discover just how much pleasure these two men can wring from your willing body.

read the next part: Worship in the Bedroom

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I got to the end and realized I did not feature their gorgeous tattoed bodies nearly enough, but I GUESS THAT MEANS I'LL JUST HAVE TO WRITE MORE OF THEM ASAP!

[afictionalwhor3]

Afictionalwhor3's Chris Evans Masterlist

Fluff:

Birthday Cake Ice Cream

Daddy's Little Girl

Smut:

Friends with Benefits

Betrayed

Give For You

[imyourbratzdoll]

y/n has scars on their back/shoulders (battle scars, from going on many missons together.). one day y/n has their back exposed, in a dress. at a private gathering, and lloyd hugs them from behind, kissing down y/n's back. when y/n asks what lloyd is doing, tang replies “no one has ever kissed them before, so I’m doing it now.”

hope you like it, thank you for sending it! I enjoy your requests.

summary - lloyd doesn't like when people make his wife feel insecure about her scars.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

When Y/n and Lloyd Hansen entered the room, it seemed time had stopped. Why wouldn’t it? The couple looked like they were carved by gods, with Y/n wearing an off-white, beige backless dress and Lloyd wearing his signature white pants with the tightest black turtleneck you could get. No man or woman would dare try to make moves on either one, knowing how possessive they were of each other.

After a while of being at this gathering, Y/n walked over to the bar and ordered herself a vodka. Ignoring all the whispers and murmurs about the scars on her back, the woman might be someone you wouldn’t want to cross, but she was insecure like everyone else.

Lloyd glared at the people gossiping about his wife, wishing he could kill them all, but that would be bad for business, and he couldn’t afford to lose all of his money now, not when he plans to have a big family with the woman of his dreams. Instead, he saunters over to Y/n, his arms slithering around her form, and he leans down to place soft kisses against the jagged scars. Lloyd starts with the ones along her shoulders before kissing down to the ones covering her gorgeous back.

Y/n sighs, her hands are resting on his arms that hold her close. “Lloyd, what are you doing? People are talking.” She breathes out, feeling her heart warm at the loving gesture. Her head tilts back, letting her husband continue his mission, knowing he doesn’t mean any harm.

Lloyd pulls back, coming up until his mouth is near her ear and whispers. “No one has ever kissed them before, so I’m doing it now.” His long, rough fingertips run along the scars. “You won't let me when we’re home, even though you got them saving my ass. So I’m showing everyone they can stare and talk all they want.” Lloyd spins you around, staring deep into your eyes, his hand coming up, and he grips your chin. “But in my eyes, you are a goddess and always will be, even with those scars.”

Y/n smiles, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing Lloyd into a passionate kiss. “I love you, handsome.”

“I love you too, pumpkin.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[majaloveschris]

Chris Evans was Hazed by Paul Rudd in Their Fantasy Football League | The Tonight Show

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [1 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You learn the hard way what it takes to survive this new life. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, More tags to be added

A/N: i had too much fun with this concept so i decided to stretch it out into more than one part! i really hope you guys enjoy.

“You understand what I’m telling you, Sweetmeat?” He says, tapping the underside of your chin with the flat of his blade. His bright blue eyes seem to dance with amusement. “I’m telling you to run.” You jump, gasping as he turns the sword with a flick of his wrist, bringing it down in one smooth motion to cut the thick length of rope between your outstretched hands. It falls to the dry grass between your feet, and he straightens back up in the saddle. The massive Clydesdale paws impatiently at the dirt as he laughs again.

“Run.” 

You do, with the orc-pack’s laughter burning in your ears. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you sprint. You gather your dusty skirts up around your knees as you make for the tree line. The sound of a horn spurs you onward. 

“The river, Sweetmeat!” His voice carries to you from across the hill. “You’ve only to make it to the river!”

Dry branches tear at your face and clothes as you force your way into the brush. The fear disorients you, but only for a moment. They will run you down if you take the path, sure as daylight. Instead, you make the choice to stick to the trees, moving between them as quietly as you can. You’d seen what the blue-eyed-orc had done to the others—one by one offering them the same choices— 

Run and die. Run or die—

No one got to live.  

It made a sick sort of sense, you supposed, if you used Orc-logic. They were weak—unworthy of the water it would take to sustain them, of the burden it would take for a rider to bear them. You had watched as first the baker’s boy, then the cobbler, and then the smithy each followed the blue-eyed-orc’s instruction, stumbling down the mountain path and disappearing into the trees—only to be brought back at dusk, their remains thrown to the wargs.

Your father had been good for little else but finding his next ale, but he’d paid his guild taxes same as everyone. And a fat lot of good it did him. The few soldiers stationed at the outpost nearest your village had been felled laughably easily, almost as easily as your father. And now he was gone, and you were here, a day’s ride south of the charred remains of your village.

The horn blows behind you a second time, and you swallow your terrified sob. No—you mustn’t panic. It is fear and panic that will get you caught. Your mother’s voice rings in your ears. Find green, she whispers as you crawl through the trees. Find green.

And you will find water.

The trees aren’t dead, not really, not at the roots. There’s thick brown moss growing at the roots, between the sparse patches of dry grass. You fall to your knees, ripping at it. The top layer is dry and brown, flaking away easily under your fingernails. But underneath—

Green. 

The sound of hoofbeats approaching on the nearby path quickens your step. North—the river is north. You gather what is left of your torn skirts in your hands, trying to stay low and quiet. You have seen the thick-shafted arrows strapped to the backs of the broad-shouldered orc warriors, and you’ve no desire to feel them bury themselves in your back. 

“Fan out!”

Half-blind you push forward, your own ragged breath deafening in your ears. You’re not going to make it—there is no river, there never was, there’s nothing for you to find out here, nothing—

And then you see it. 

The river is drawn back from the bank, a shrunken skeleton of itself—but it is here. From the width of the bank and the depth of the riverbed, you can tell it was once a mighty thing, now tamed by the unending drought. The red clay is dry and crumbling beneath your bare feet as you stumble toward the water. It is cool on your feet as you splash into it, your feet sinking into the mud. 

There is a sound like a whistle, like a switch splitting the air before it parts skin, and an arrow sinks into the wet clay by your feet. 

“Don’t stop now, Sweetmeat. You’re so close.” The voice is taunting, and hatefully familiar. Slowly you turn, and the blue-eyed-orc is there on the bank. His bow drawn, another arrow already nocked.  You stare at one another, your heart pounding in your chest. You wait for him to draw back the bow, to loose the arrow—he doesn’t. After a moment, he lowers it. 

“Brave little thing, aren’t you?” He asks, cocking his head. “You’re not going to run?” 

“No.” You don’t want to die like your father—cowering, with an axe between his shoulder blades that he never saw coming. “I would see my death.” The blue-eyed-orc grins, one sharp fang hanging over his lip. 

“Oh?” To surprise, he stores the arrow back in its quiver, and takes a step closer. “You’ve no weapon to meet it.” 

“It will come whether I’ve steel or none.” You match his step, taking one further back into the river. The muddy water laps at your calves, soaking into your dress. Over the sound of rushing water and the thunder of your own heartbeat, you hear the horses. The riders approach lazily, slowly, like they know you’re cornered. 

You are. 

The pack doesn’t interfere; don’t come any closer than twenty or thirty paces from the riverbank, content to watch as the blue-eyed one circles you like a wolf. 

“Not going to beg, either, I imagine.” He says, and trembling, you shake your head. You’re up to your knees in water now, your skirts soaked and dragging in the current. You are expecting him to unsheathe the massive, hooked axe on his back, to bring your death down upon you swiftly—but he does not even reach for it. Instead, he reaches for your face, cupping your chin in his huge hand. 

“What are you called?” When you answer, he rolls your name around in his mouth like mead. He turns your head this way and that, like someone inspecting an animal for sale. You know he must feel it, the race of your pulse under his fingertips. After a moment, he pulls back, directing his sharp gaze over his shoulder. 

“Bring a horse for her, Buck.” He says, licking his lips. You watch as a ripple passes through the pack at the impact of his decision.

“What—what are you doing?” You ask hoarsely, your teeth still clenched tight with fear. He grins at you over his shoulder as he makes for the bank.

“A deal’s a deal, Sweetmeat,” he replies, beckoning you to follow. “You get to live.” 

to be continued

next

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Take a Chance of Me (Skinny!Steve Rogers)

Summary: Steve visits the Metropolitan Museum of Art on 5th Ave. in NYC and meets you there. Skinny!Steve AU

WC: 550

Warnings: preserum steve, fluff

A/N: i'm locating all of old fics on here. i'm located a TON of them already. *Most* of them are already on ao3 or you to enjoy.

Read on Ao3!

-

Being as he was, Steve always felt out of place. He never held a girl’s attention like his best friend, Bucky. He never had a first kiss, a first date, nothing. He was always stuck at home with his mother to care for him. Of course, Bucky was always hanging about or dragging him places– which Steve never minded. He held Bucky to high standards because, for once, Steve had someone to hang with, someone who didn’t treat him like he was so fragile. Someone who saw Steve for who he was.

Steve had met Bucky a few years ago. He was maybe thirteen or fourteen. Who really remembered? He was fighting a bully in an alleyway next to an ice cream shop. Well, the bully was fighting, and Steve was groaning and hacking up a lung, trying to defend the poor cat that the bully had been torturing.

Bucky had heard the grunts and trash cans being knocked over and of course, he was drawn to the noise. He’d watched for only a second before he had sighed and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, preparing to lay one on this bigger guy. Bucky had taken a few steps into the alley and clocked his fist right into the man’s skull, causing him to stumble forward and lose his balance. “Come on, punk.” He called, beckoning over to the little blonde man, who had a bloody and what looked to be a broken nose. He’d taken the shorter man back to his home, where Bucky’s mother had helped him heal. Steve stayed at Bucky’s house every day after school for the rest of the month.

So now, it was years later. Bucky had gone off to fight in a war America had no business fighting in. Steve had walked around, finally making a stop at the  Metropolitan Museum of Art, where he studied the paintings and sculptures to pass the time. He thought about everything in his mind. He thought about how he’d wanted to become a professional painter. He thought about his friendship with Bucky. He thought about his mother and how grateful he was that she was with him.

Steve thought about many things as he strolled through the rooms, looking at everything around him. He’d been so busy looking he hadn’t noticed you were just as preoccupied looking as well. He’d bumped into you, knocking you both onto the ground.

You let out a surprised cry as your butt had collided with the marble flooring, knocking the brochure out of your hand.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled as he scurried to his feet and helped you to your own.

“It’s okay!” you nearly giggle at the redness on his face.

“Are you hurt?” he asked you, voice timid and unsure.

You shook your head, grinning at the small, handsome blond man. “No, of course not. It was hardly a fall.”

He nodded, running a hand through his short locks of hair. “Um-”

You only shrugged before gently intertwining your arms together, making Steve stutter even more. “Would you like to take a tour with me?”

“Yes.” He blinked, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how proud Bucky would be of him had he been standing next to him. “Of course, I would.”

“Great!”

--

Please give this a reblog if you enjoyed <3