#It's moving towards Steve Rogers pairing

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question.  He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.  

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[jiyascepter]

Caught You | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Loki x F!reader

Words: 4012

Warnings/Content: SMUT; Avenger! Loki & Avenger! Y/n, Themes of dub-con, dark-ish Loki??, dom!Loki, pervy!Loki, possessive, jealous loki, use of loki's magic (in a lot of sexual stuff), restraints, bondage, biting, licking, aggressive, pissed loki, praise, slight degradation, there's a tattoo on y/n's thigh (for the plot!), other mcu characters also make an appearance, clit licking, fingering, overstimulation, p in v.

Please lmk if I missed anything! Loki is a bit of red-flaggy in this one, please keep in mind this is only a fanfiction.

Summary: When you make fun of Loki's magic, he "demonstrates" how his magic can be useful. In many, ehm..ways. What did you expect?

A/n: i moved the title in the corner so that i can keep seeing tommys's sexy face in the middle 😮‍💨 im trying to make my fics dirtier but it's not quite coming down in my works, like it's in my mind but it's not easy to express??? im trying & hopefully it'll come soon

The cavernous, dimly-lit warehouse echoed with the sounds of clashing metal and grunts of exertion. The Avengers were locked in combat with a band of mercenaries armed with advanced weaponry.

Tony was in the air, repulsor beams lighting up the darkness, while Natasha and Clint worked in tandem, their movements precise and deadly. Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, was a blur as it struck down the enemies with thunderous force.

In the midst of the chaos, Loki stood with an air of detached amusement, casting spells with flicks of his wrists. His magic sent mercenaries flying, created illusions to confuse their ranks, and conjured barriers to protect the teammates. But Loki's magic, powerful and unpredictable, was also a bit reckless tonight.

Maybe it was the leather suit you were wearing today.

"Loki, for the love of—watch where you're aiming!" You shouted as you narrowly avoided being hit by a stray spell meant for an enemy.

Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you shot him a glare. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Loki smirked, eyeing you up, not taking you seriously. "Perhaps if you were more attentive, you wouldn't find yourself in such precarious positions, darling."

You scowled and ducked under a swipe from a mercenary, retaliating with a swift punch that sent your opponent sprawling.

Ugh, you hated how he always carried that stupid smirk.

"Maybe if your magic was actually useful, we wouldn't be in precarious positions to begin with!"

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of irritation flashing through his otherwise calm demeanor. "Is that so? I seem to recall saving you from a similar predicament just last week."

"By causing it in the first place!" You shot back, dodging another mercenary's attack and taking him down with a well-placed kick. 

Loki rolls his eyes and runs in the other direction. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured an illusion, making a group of mercenaries see each other as Avengers.

Confused, they turned on one another, giving the team a moment of respite. But the spell was too potent, and soon the illusion spread, affecting even the teammates. 

Chaos erupted as friends and foes became indistinguishable. 

"What the—" Tony exclaimed while flying over the scene. 

"Damn it, Loki!" You screamed, ducking, as Natasha took a swing at you, mistaking you for an enemy.

"Enough!" Thor bellowed, his hammer smashing into the ground to create a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet and dispelled the illusion.

The mercenaries, now disoriented, were quickly subdued.

The flight back home was quiet. Everyone was either tired, tending to their wounds, or just rethinking what happened back there. 

Once you landed, the rest of the Avengers stepped down the Quinjet and walked into the building to their rooms. 

"Loki, wait." Steve calls out and walks towards Loki in the lobby.

“About today—”

“Nobody died, Rogers.” Loki replies. 

"That is not an achievement," You murmur to yourself loudly on purpose for him to hear while taking a sip from your favourite grey-coloured sipper. 

Loki and Steve both glanced at you, with Steve carrying a hint of a smile on his face while Loki scowled and turned back to Steve.

You could tell he was not impressed. 

A win for you.

Steve clears his throat, turning serious once more. "Look, what happened today was not good. We cannot work as a team if we don't know half of your tricks."

Loki grins. "Well, that's the fun, isn't it? A surprise for everyone.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. "But it isn’t helping, Lo-"

"Helping? His magic is useless half the time."

Loki shoots an eye at you when you say that, and you could tell the God wasn't pleased.

"He's showing off in front of everyone, like the arrogant ass he is." You go on, while Loki watches you with his grave, sharp eyes.

Why wasn't he replying with his usual snarky comments today? 

Steve gives a light chuckle and pats Loki's shoulder as if feeling sorry for him, "Be careful next time, that's all I ask," and walks away through the corridor, leaving you and Loki to yourselves.

While waiting for the elevator, you silently stand in front of the doors, waiting for it to arrive.

Until you feel a hard pressure against your back.

The sensation is unmistakable—a solid, unyielding presence, warm and firm. Loki's chest. His closeness sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and subtle heat radiating through his clothes.

You stiffen, unsure whether to move away or stay still, the elevator's arrival feeling like an eternity away.

You decide to say something to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Ego broken, Loki~?" You say his name in a sing-song voice.

"Do you enjoy testing my patience, mortal?" he says, leaning down to your ear.

"Someone has to keep you in check," you reply, your voice steady despite the proximity.

The elevator reaches your floor, and with a little chime, its doors open. You proceed to take a step forward to enter the elevator when his hand grabs hold of the back side of your neck and pulls you back to him.

"Careful," he almost whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, "your tongue is going to get you in trouble one day."

You pause for a moment, feeling the tension thicken in the air, before you turn your head out of his hands to look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt the big bad trickster's feelings?" You taunt, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe if your magic wasn't so unreliable, we wouldn't be in these messes. Or do you need Daddy Odin to give you some pointers on how to actually be useful?"

Loki's eyes flare with fury, and in no time he grabs your neck once again and strides into the elevator, pinning your head to the panels. His body pressed against yours with a force that left little room for doubt about his intensity.

His frame, tall and lean yet undeniably strong, exerting a commanding presence as he pins you against the cool metal of the elevator wall. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the chill of the metal against your cheek. 

He was so close to you, you could smell his sultry, intoxicating smell on him.

"You think my magic is useless, don’t you..." He whispers, his breath ghosting on your skin. "I’ll make sure you regret saying that."

"I don't "think", it's a fact." You try to push him back with your elbow. “Let me go, Loki.” You say it firmly. 

"Not yet, vixen." He says so, and the elevator doors shut by themselves. And with one flick of his fingers, the front chain of your tight leather suit yanked open down to the end of your belly.

Did he just–

"I’ll make sure to demonstrate how useful my magic can be." He says and looks down to notice you were not even wearing a bra underneath.

He grins at the sight, licking his lower lip. "Naughty girl." He coos in your ear while his fingers work their way to your belly. 

His fingers, though possessing a hint of coldness at first, quickly warmed against your skin as they made contact with your belly. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire that danced just beneath the surface. 

"Let. Me. Go." You say, trying to stand your ground, but your attempts are futile. 

"Told you no, darling." He says while his fingers trailed up to your nipples, sending a shiver down your spine as goosebumps rose in their wake.

It was a sensation that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated by the raw intensity of his touch. 

He slides down your suit from your shoulders, proceeding with a graze of his tongue on your skin. 

"Mmm…sweet," he murmurs, sucking on your shoulder, "unlike those words you use."

"FUCK. YOU." You reply with a gruff.

Loki chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Oh, darling, you will," he murmurs, his voice dripping with seductive menace. "But not before I teach you to respect a God."

He pulls down your suit lower, his lips kissing the back of your neck, followed by melty little kisses down your bareback. Despite your discontent, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by him.

As Loki pushes down your suit to your thighs, his eyes catch sight of a small tattoo etched on the inside of your thigh. The ink reads the name of your ex-boyfriend. Loki's eyes darken with a mix of curiosity and possessiveness. 

He paused, his brows furrowing as he read the name inked there. "Well, well, well," he murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and disdain. "So that’s what your little skirt was hinting at the meeting a few days ago..."

He traced the tattoo lightly with his finger, sending a shiver through your body.

So this bastard was always watching you?

You grit your teeth, anger and embarrassment flushing through you. "It’s none of your business, Loki."

He tightens his grip on your neck slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to assert his dominance. "I know."

"But this mark... it irks me. An insignificant mortal claiming a part of you." He pinches your thigh, and you try to jerk away your leg but cannot. 

You squirmed against his grip, but he held you firmly, his eyes dark and intense as they bore into yours. "Let it go, Loki," you demanded, trying to maintain your composure.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the tattoo. "Why should I?" he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr. "Why should I let some forgotten lover's mark go unchallenged?"

He gives you a rather harsh bite on your shoulder, trailing his lips to kiss your neck, which makes you whimper, which makes him grin.

He pulls away a bit, and with the flick of his wrists, an invisible force pins your arms above your head, securing you in place against the elevator wall. You struggle briefly, but the bonds hold firm. Loki steps back, his eyes raking over your exposed form with a predatory gaze.

Before you could retort, he bent down, turning his body against the elevator and facing you from below. He kissed the tattoo with deliberate slowness, his lips soft and maddeningly sensual.

The act was both possessive and teasing, with his tongue swirling repeatedly on the same spot that was making you crazy. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and a part of you hated how your body responded to his touch. 

"Shh, people can still hear us, darling. Even if they cannot enter." He says placing pecks up and down your thigh, evaporating your steady facade away.

"Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down and exposing you completely.

You saw his eyes almost sparkle at the sight, placing a kiss on your mound, making you flinch against the metal. Where and when did your suit disappear? You didn’t know.

He leans close and starts exploring your already wet clit with his tongue. Holding your waist in his hands, he kept stealing glances up at your aroused form, watching your expressions while you gasped every time his warm tongue darted on your needy pussy.

The god had a talent for his tongue. The silver tongue. 

"Are you still with him?" He murmured, pulling away his face from your pussy, making you let out a complaining whine.

He holds up his two fingers to caress your folds. "Answer."

"N-no…" You answer, your voice quivering in pleasure.

"Then why isn’t it off?" He says this, glancing at your tattoo.

"I never…Loki-"

He pushes two fingers in. "You never what?"

You shudder as Loki's fingers push inside you, his question hanging in the air, demanding an answer. Your mind races, caught between the intense pleasure and the need to explain yourself.

"I never... had the chance," you manage to gasp, your voice barely steady. "It didn't mean anything anymore. I just...fuck-forgot about it."

Loki's eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face, his fingers moving slowly inside you, curling and stroking in a way that makes coherent thoughts nearly impossible. He doesn't seem entirely convinced.

"Forgot about it?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Or perhaps you wanted a reminder of something you couldn't let go?" 

"No…" You moan, writhing against the panel with your hands above your head, your fingers aching to dive into his hair. 

He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with a deliberate rhythm, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. You squirm, your faint moans echoing the elevator.

"Good," he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr. "Because I don't share, darling. And I don't like to be reminded of what once was."

You moan, your body arching against his touch. His words send a thrill through you, and the possessiveness in his tone both intimidating and exhilarating.

"You know I can just turn you into a pretty mannequin for me so I can do whatever I want with you…but I want to feel you squirm... to mewl... like a little prey." He says watching your face while feeling your pussy start to clench around his fingers.

"Now, let's make sure you never forget who you belong to, hm?" Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. His mouth returns to your clit, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless intensity that drives you wild. 

"Yeah, that’s right, just keep on making those little sounds for me." He says it with a satisfied smile curling on his lips, and he resumes his ministrations with renewed fervor. 

The combination of his fingers inside you and his mouth on your clit sends you spiralling into a mind-shattering orgasm, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out his name.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, Loki slowly withdraws his fingers. He stands, his eyes locking onto yours. He releases your binds away and turns you to him, and his thumb caresses your lower lip as if studying it for a second before he holds you against the wall, cupping your cheek, and kisses you almost fiercely. 

And gosh, you needed that. You needed that and more.

"Y/n, is that you?"

Both of you freeze to your seats when you hear Thor’s voice outside the elevator. 

Loki's eyes narrow in annoyance, and he quickly glances towards the elevator doors. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. "We wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?"

He continues exploring your mouth, and the kisses start spreading to your neck, tongue, and teeth, making their wild appearances every once in a while. 

Until you couldn’t help it and let out a moan.

"This door is not openi- Y/n??" Thor repeats again. "Wait, let me call Stark.-" 

Your heart races when Thor calls out again because of your moan. Loki’s eyes narrow, and he pulls away. "Are you doing this on purpose? Just another one of your games so we can get caught and you can have your fun?"

He gives your pussy a little slap, and you whine a no. 

In a swift motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You barely have time to register the shift before the air around you shimmers and the familiar confines of the elevator vanish, replaced by the opulent and dimly lit interior of a room unknown to you.

The room is a stark contrast to the sterile metal of the elevator. Rich tapestries line the walls, and candles flicker, casting a warm, golden glow. A large, ornate bed dominates the space, its dark, luxurious linens inviting in a way that makes your heart race. 

Loki wastes no time. He sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed with an urgency that sends a thrill through you. He lays you down gently, his gaze intense as he takes in your still-naked form. His hands trace over your skin, as if committing every inch to memory. 

The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Loki—intoxicating and alluring. "Now, where were we?" He purrs, his fingers tracing a delicate line down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

You can barely catch your breath; the intensity of the moment overwhelming. "Loki, what if Thor—"

"Thor won't find us," Loki interrupts, his voice a low growl. "This is my domain. No one enters without my permission."

"Now," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, "let us continue our little magic demonstration." 

The silken sheets cool against your heated skin, and with Loki's hands everywhere—caressing, teasing, exploring every inch of your body—his touch both gentle and demanding, leaving you breathless and craving more. 

"So beautiful," his voice dripping with seductive menace as he conjures a binding spell that secures your wrists to the bedposts. 

You gasp, your body arching against the restraints, as Loki's mouth finds your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipples with maddening precision. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind is lost in a haze of pleasure and need. 

Loki's mouth moves with deliberate precision, his tongue tracing intricate patterns over your breasts. Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you arch and writhe against the silken sheets. The restraints on your wrists keep you firmly in place.

"Loki…"

"Mhm," he hums, enjoying your squirms. But he wanted more.

He uses his powers to amplify his touch, making your nerve endings sing with heightened sensitivity. You gasp and moan, the intensity of his magic overwhelming your senses.

You can feel the magic pulsating through you, heightening your awareness of every touch and every kiss. His lips move from your breasts to the sensitive skin just below, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The combination of his mouth and his magic almost too much to bear.

His free hand trails down your body, leaving a path of fire in its wake. As his fingers reach your inner thighs, you feel a new surge of his magic, more potent and concentrated. It wraps around your thighs, making your muscles quiver with anticipation.

Loki conjures small, delicate tendrils of magic that wrap around your nipples, gently tugging and twisting. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before—a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath. 

He moves lower, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your belly. The tendrils of magic follow his path, amplifying every sensation, making you feel as if your skin is on fire. You can barely think or breathe; your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.

As he reaches your hips, his fingers part your folds, and you feel a rush of cool air against your wetness. His mouth hovers just above your clit, his breath hot and tantalizing. 

"Tell me, darling," Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot, "how does it feel to be at the mercy of a god?"

Before you can answer, his tongue flicks out, teasing your clit with delicate, precise strokes. His magic enhances every touch, making you moan and writhe against the restraints. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. 

"Loki I-" He sees your upcoming orgasm and pulls away quickly, enjoying your needy, complaining moan for him.

"Not so easy, darling."

And with another display of his magic, he completely gets rid of his clothes, his disrobed body turning you on even more, the heat of need between your legs almost unbearable.

He brings his already-hard cock near your lips. "Kiss it." and you do, the light hum of satisfaction he makes making you want to absolutely suck him out rather than just a little kiss.

"My filthy little vixen," he says, eyes blazing with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through you, "get ready for your god."

He lets out a low growl, a dark and seductive sound, before slowly pushing into you, his length stretching and filling you completely. The feeling is exquisite, with every inch of him sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You feel so perfect," Loki murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Every part of you was made just for me."

He begins to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and controlled. Each motion designed to draw out the maximum pleasure to make you feel every inch of him. The binding spell keeps your wrists secured to the bedposts, preventing you from reaching out to touch him, to claw at his back as the pleasure intensifies.

Loki's eyes never leave yours, the connection between you palpable and electric. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts. You respond eagerly, your moans muffled against his lips, your body arching to meet his. 

His magic continues to amplify every sensation, making your skin hypersensitive, every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you. The tendrils of magic around your nipples tighten and twist, adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

"Loki," you gasp, barely able to form coherent words. "I can't... it's too much..."

He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "You can take it, darling. You will take it. You will take everything I give you."

His pace quickens, and his thrusts become more urgent and more demanding. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and the wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving together. The pleasure builds rapidly, creating a coiling heat in your belly that threatens to consume you entirely.

Loki's hand moves between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight, precise circles. The additional stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Come for me, darling," Loki commands, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Come for your god."

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, the orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless and shaking. The pleasure is overwhelming, your vision going white as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

Loki continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure, his own release imminent. His movements become erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own climax.

You can feel him throbbing inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he finally lets go, his own orgasm ripping through him.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his groan of pleasure vibrating through your body. He collapses on top of you, his weight comforting and grounding as you both catch your breath, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Loki's hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear of overwhelming pleasure. 

"Fuck, you drive me wild." He murmurs breathlessly. 

"Did you like that, darling?" Loki murmurs against your skin, his voice a seductive purr. "My magic can do so much more." 

You breathlessly chuckle while he traces patterns on your skin. His fingers caress down to your thigh, where he glances at your tattoo.

"We can’t have that." He says in a low voice and grazes his hand over your skin, and the tattoo vanishes.  Loki’s touch lingers on your thigh where the tattoo once was, his magic leaving your skin smooth and unmarked.

"And now you’re mine."

┈➤ Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭

[kyotosworld]

just confess already!

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader 

summary: the team is sick of seeing how in love Steve and you are while you both pretend you’re just friends. 

(the office au: moments when the teams talks to the camera, like in the office)

warning: language, very cute confession at the end

word count: 1.3k

���

“..andd they’re doing it again,” bucky smirks at the camera before motioning it towards you and steve who were sitting way too closely for “friends”

you were both giggling and whispering about something he was showing you on his phone, before you noticed the camera and very badly tried to act normal by clearing your throat and refocusing on your computer.

steve’s brows furrowed for a second as he watched you leave, worried that he might have done something to upset you. before also realizing that the cameras were directed toward you both. leading him to return to his work in a similar clumsy manner as you.

steve could only hope that the camera didn’t catch how long and how longingly he looked at you after you left.

meanwhile, bucky was still smirking at the camera, “ you see what i mean?”

bucky of course was referring to the ongoing belief of everyone in the office—but you and steve—that you guys were dating.

—

“they need to confess already. i'm sick of the heart eyes,” natasha says before fake gagging. “but seriously, the only people they’re fooling are themselves.”

while natasha was talking to the camera, you and steve were in the office kitchen proving her exactly right. 

“have you heard the…rumors floating around the office?” you ask nervously, while holding a cold water bottle, and standing beside steve as he looks into the fridge for a snack.

at that, he froze because yeah he had heard them but he was also too scared to talk about it with you. then in an attempt to act normal, he hit the top of his head on the ceiling of the fridge. 

“shit!” he exclaimed.

“omg, are you okay?” you wince before putting down your water bottle and checking his head. 

he has his hands on the spot he hit like that’ll help ease the pain, which of course it doesn’t. so, in an attempt to do something other than just watch him in pain, you pick up your cold water, gently move his hands from his injury, and place the bottle against it. 

“there, that should help.” you say softly while still holding the bottle against his head. you’re too focused on easing his pain to notice the way steve is looking at you.

—

“oh those two? we’re still talking about them?” tony asks, “that’s old news. instead, lets focus on me–”

— 

“aww they’re soo cute i cant wait for them to realize!” wanda says excitedly with the biggest smile on her face. she’s a sweetheart.

—

“what, when did this happen? why did no one tell me?!” thor asked with a frown, being the clueless himbo that he was ♡. 

his smile reforms as an idea forms in head, “i must congratulate them!” he exclaims while getting up.

the camera follows thor out of the room and into the main office where steve and you were actually focused on your work for once. 

“CONGRATULATIONS ON THE RELATIONSHIP DEAR MORTALS!” thor yells as he pulls you two into a tight hug. drawing the attention of the rest of the team.

“what?” you ask, gasping but laughing when thor finally lets you out of the bone crushing hug. 

“you and steve! you know i always suspected, but wasn’t a hundred percent sure. why didn’t you tell me?” he questions, getting a bit sad again.

 this time steve pipes up, “you ‘always suspected’ what?” he asks in confusion.

honestly he was getting a bit nervous. you both were, thinking somehow your crush for the other got out and that’s what thor knew.  

but the truth surprised you guys even more, “that you’re dating of course!”

at this, you and steve look at eachother wide eyed and flushed for a moment before looking back at thor. 

“where did you get that information from, thor?” you ask. 

“well apparently, everyone knew but me.” he looks down, “no one ever tells me anything.” 

you guys look around at the rest of the team with surprised looks on your faces, “really?” steve asks, perplexed.

a collection of nods and “yeah”s spread around the room.

clint speaks up, “i honestly thought you guys were engaged already.”

—

after all of that, you and steve kind of avoided each other for a bit. feeling too awkward after the news you both had heard.

but that only lasted for about an hour before you both ended up in the break room at the same time. 

you walked in, distracted, looking down and counting the coins in your hand to see if you had enough for the chips you were craving. due to this, you failed to notice that someone else was in the room with you.

“oh, hi.” steve spoke up, surprised to see you. 

you jump and look up to find steve sitting at a table across the room.

“hi,” you stop in your tracks, surprised and suddenly nervous at the sight of him.

you both stood there for a bit, staring at each other, not knowing what to say.  

“soo–”

“umm–” 

“you go first!”

“no you!” you insist.

“i was just going to ask if uh we’re okay?” steve asks nervously. 

“yeah.” you reply quickly, “why wouldn't we be?” you ask, trying really hard to act normal and like you weren't affected by today's news in the slightest.

but of course steve saw right through it, right through you as he stared at you for a moment before responding, “i'm sorry that things are weird now, and it's all my fault and i totally understand if you don't wanna be friends anymore–” 

“what?!” you interrupt immediately, “steve, of course i don't want to stop being friends.” you say sincerely looking deep into his eyes. 

“and if anything, it's both our faults for being together all the time, no wonder they thought we were together.” you finish while pulling up a chair next to him. 

steve chuckles and shakes his head at that before getting serious again, “so we're good?”

“yes. we’re good.” you smile, causing him to do the same, “plus their assumption didn’t bother me too much…” you looked down as you said the last part.

“what.” steve’s head turns towards you swiftly, he couldn't have heard you correctly, right?

“what? it's not like you’re the worst guy ever. and i guess it's not the worst thing that they saw us as a couple.” you try to answer nonchalantly but are still avoiding his eyes. 

this time, steve’s lips upturned a little, noticing your nervousness, “so you think i'm ‘not the worst guy ever’ huh?” 

you look up and notice he looks a bit amused. “oh shut up, you know what i mean.” you playfully shove his side with your shoulder. 

“no no, i really don't. please. explain it to me.” he jokingly but also somehow convincingly insisted. 

figuring that you weren’t gonna be able to leave this place if you didn’t just admit it, you very speedily say, “fine. you’re an attractive guy and you’re funny and really kind and anyone would be lucky to have you.” at the end of that you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. 

it’s quiet for a moment and when you finally look back at steve he’s smiling softly at you. “i feel the same.”

“you think i’m an attractive guy?” you tease.

“you know what i mean.” he whispers, still smiling.

“i think i do.” you say softly while leaning closer towards him.

but of course thor had to walk by right when steve closed the gap between you two. 

“i knew it! they are dating!!” thor yells as he runs towards the main office. 

[ramp-it-up]

Mood

Summary: You and Steve were “special” friends. Until something that happens on one of your training missions puts Steve into a mood.

Word count: 2.7K

Pairing: Early CATWS era Captain Steve Rogers x SHEILD Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. S MUT! Early CATWS Steve, talk of hurt, ambush, implied assualt. Angsty, moody Steve, Steve with the urge to kill for you, possessive Steve, Steve pining for reader, idiots in love, Dom Steve, fuck buddies to relationship, fluff, Captain and Sir kink, dirty talk, edging (but not quite), begging, body worship, nipple play, raw p in v, female receiving oral, emotional sex.

A/N: This can be seen as adjacent to the fic Call Me Captain When I..., but can be read as a stand alone. I was in a mood when I wrote it, so here we are.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

NOTICE: I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

After you checked yourself out of the hospital against doctor’s orders, Steve Rogers steamed as he waited for you to get out of the shower. He wanted to be in there with you, but decided to give you some space, and give him some time to cool down.

The fact that you were standing at the visitor’s entrance, in your hospital gown and combat boots as he drove up to sit with you, was the latest thing to get him riled up.

When he saw you, he parked in the fire lane and got out of his car, hands on his hips as he questioned you.

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

He eyed the bandage on your forehead and the one on your cheek, fingers trembling as he brushed his thumb over your bruised face.

The rage had not subsided for him over the past three days. 

Even after he and Sam beat the medivac to the scene and transported you to the best ER in the area.

Even after he was assured that you were ok by the doctors at the hospital. 

Even after you protested that he was overreacting when he set up a security detail at your door headed by Sam. 

Even after he’d found who did this to you and… well, seeing you bruised countenance again reignited his emotions.

He wondered how you got around Sam who was posted up. But then, your cunning and skill was a big part of how he felt about you. So was your kindness, intelligence, and beauty.

But you didn’t know exactly how Steve felt about you. And perhaps he didn’t either. Until you were ambushed on a routine training mission with your troops.

You lifted your chin and squared your shoulders as Steve shook his head. 

“I’m fine, Captain. I want to go home. I’ve been in the hospital for four days. And on the training mission for 10 days before that. I was due to be discharged in the morning anyway.”

You looked up at Steve. He couldn’t resist those eyes.

“I want to rot on my couch, sleep in my own bed.”

Steve grunted his assent, although the thin line of his lips indicated his displeasure with you.

“How’s your head feel?”

You met his eyes and focused, if only to prove how healthy you were.

“I’m fine, Steve. I just want to go home.”

Steve stared at you, wanting to just take you into his arms, but not doing it. Then, he stared around the parking lot, scanning the perimeter for anyone watching.

“Get in.”

He moved next to you and picked up the plastic bag that had your belongings in it, and put his hand on your back to guide you toward the sportscar.

“But my ride...”

Steve looked down at you as his jaw clenched, the blue fire in his eyes threatening to burn you.

“Get in before I take you over to that bench and spank the hell out of you, Lieutenant.”

You swallowed a gasp and grew warm at the threat.

“Yes Sir.”

You climbed into the passenger seat and sat back as Steve buckled you in, then waved at Sam, who’d come running out of the hospital just as Steve drove away.

You were along for the ride of this mood of your superior, friend, and fuck buddy Captain America, Steve Rogers.

—-

You stood before Steve, wrapped up in your soft, fluffy white robe that he had put into the dryer to warm up and left on the hook on the door of the shower. It was such a sweet gesture that contrasted his cold, harsh demeanor on the way to your place.

You felt as if you were about to be punished, but you didn’t care. You were exhausted. And just a little bit spooked. But that last part was lessened, because Steve was with you here in your quarters. You looked at him, wanting to ask him to stay, but you didn’t.

Steve stalked toward you, and you noticed that he was barefoot, which seemed to indicate that he wasn’t going anywhere soon. You smiled as you dragged your weary eyes up to his face. You decided to go for it.

“Are you staying?”

Steve grunted at you again.

“Just try and get me to leave you alone.”

His deep bass rumbled through you, and you whimpered, despite the fact that he wasn’t even touching you. Something seemed off as he moved toward you, pulling you closer by the tie on your robe.

“I’ve been riding on the edge of insanity ever since that day.”

Steve’s hand was in your hair, gently massaging the exposed scalp between your braids as his eyes took careful stock of your face.

You were shook.

“I’m okay, Steve.”

“I’ve got to see for myself.”

All he wanted to do was to take inventory of you, his rough fingers moving over every inch of your naked body to make sure that every bit of you was okay. He’d almost lost you and was experiencing an almost feral urge to consume you. You could feel the guilt radiating off him.

“Steve. No one could have known. Shit, I’m head of intelligence and I didn’t know.…”

Steve put his finger to his lips, and then yours. He gently stroked your cheek as he kissed you tenderly, carefully.

“Why do you always taste so good? Like you smell. Like sweet coconut…”

He leaned in to kiss you again, groaning as every gentle stroke of his tongue was met with a bolder one of yours. The passion increased until he pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours. You could tell that he was holding back. 

What was wrong with him?

“I know that no one could have known that the mission was a trap. But I feel like I should have.”

His hands moved from your neck, to your torso, down your belly, to the juncture of your thighs. He was sitting on your bed as you stood before him, warmed by the shower, but goosebumps raised on your flesh and your nipples formed into tight peaks as he examined you.

“I’ve never felt the urge to kill as much as I did when I tracked them down. It only took a day and a half to find them, and then a day and a half to get close enough to… “

Steve stopped short of revealing what happened to the people who hurt you and just looked into your eyes. The fury you saw as he looked up at you was chilling, yet arousing. You wanted to ask what he did to them, but you couldn’t. You just looked at his hands to find evidence that you knew wouldn’t be there because of his super soldier healing.

“Steve?”

He didn’t respond to you, just continued to stare at your most intimate parts.

“Captain-”

He looked up at you then.

“What I said at the hospital earlier. I-I have a serious desire to give you a good and proper spanking for almost losing your life, although it wasn’t your fault.”

You started to laugh, but he was serious. The look in his eyes was unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

“I can’t give you up. I can’t.”

You shook your head.

“Steve, I’m fine-”

He pulled you to him by your thighs, his large hands grabbing you, gently but firmly, and bringing your crotch close to his mouth. He looked back up at you.

“I know we’ve never talked about this, but…You are my anchor.”

You ran your hands through his hair as his breath tickled your clit.

“I had the barest control while Sam and I were flying to get you, and only a small bit more when I learned you were okay. And now I have to verify that you are ‘fine,’ as you say. I need to see it with my own eyes, feel it with my own hands, taste it ….”

The unspoken part of that statement caused you to shudder as he went back to examining you, His hands moving down your legs, while listening for any sounds of discomfort from you as his skin slid along yours with a gentle but firm pressure, then standing up and depositing you on the bed as he examined you to the soles of your feet.

He placed one of your feet on his pelvis, next to what you’d discovered was his rock hard cock housed in his jeans, and one foot in his hand, beginning to massage it. Steve knew how a sensual foot massage made you wet. He grunted in response to your whimpers, but only turned you over as he examined the back of you.

Steve palmed the globes of your ass and pulled them apart, and you could feel his eyes at the crease of you for a full minute. Then, his palms slid upwards to your spine, smoothing over each vertebrae as he moved up to the back of your neck.

He was on the bed now, between your legs, and pulled your hips up to meet him as he gently circled your neck with his fingers, bringing you up slightly as his other hand rolled and pinched your stiff nipples. 

“How do you feel?”

His gruff whisper, full of need and at the shell of your ear elicited a groan and caused you to roll your hips on his rock-hard erection.

“Steve.. I… Please!”

You incoherently pleaded for more as you moved against the stiff fabric of his jeans, making a mess there. Steve looked down and rolled his eyes, his hand rubbing your ass as his palm itched to smack it.

“Mmmmmm. You have no idea how much I want to give you this cock. But you need rest.”

You reached back and slapped your own ass, pulling on your asscheek to enable him to push deeper between your legs to feel how wet you were.

“We also need to talk…”

Steve shuddered at the sensation of you rutting against him, and with every gasp and moan from you his control was dwindling. 

“I need it Sir. Please, Captain…”

“Fuck. Maybe just one orgasm. Then you can rest.”

You leaned down to give him that arch and he licked his lips. His cock was in full control of him now.

“Best idea ever, Captain.”

His hand moved to your core, and his fingers were instantly soaked with your arousal.

“Jesus. Looks so good.”

Steve’s dick throbbed and he gritted his teeth against the wave of lust, yet he stood up and took off his own clothes. He watched your empty pussy clench around air and he had to taste it. The minute his lips were wrapped around your clit from behind was the moment you started keening for him.

“God, yes….right… fucking…right there!”

Steve carefully inserted a finger into your cunt as he suckled your clit, trying to be gentle. You bit your lip as he pulled off and started to withdraw his finger slowly.

“So soft for me. But so tight.”

He watched your face as he added another digit, causing your eyes to squeeze shut and your mouth to hinge open as you worked your hips on his hand for some relief.

Your eyes popped open and you blinked rapidly, but he didn’t speed up to the insistence of your hips. When he curved his fingers and found that bundle of nerves inside, pressing gently, you broke apart as he stroked over and over again.

 "I–God. I'm going…" 

You bowed your body, and Steve watched in awe while your pussy clamped around his fingers.

“Oh yeah. This was what I needed to see. Give it to me.”

Steve rolled his thumb over your clit to extend your orgasm. You open and completely out of control, with no thought of hurt or danger, was the sight that he loved.

 And he wanted to make you do it again and again.

“Jesus, you are beautiful. I want to...” 

He was fisting his cock and watching your wet, creamy folds as he squeezed your ass for a better view.

“Want more. Please!” 

“Hmmph,” He grunted. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

You leaned over again and presented yourself to him, giving him a view of your fingers working your clit and sliding inside yourself. 

“Fuck me, Captain. Please…”

Steve actually whimpered. His cock was drawn to you magnetically.

“Are you sure…?”

“Need it.” 

Steve cupped your ass harder and guided his cock to your slick, heated cunt and groaned.

“Oh shit. You fucking own me.” 

Your eyes widened in shock, and then you looked over your shoulder, locking onto his gaze. You relaxed, causing Steve to sink deeper inside you. You both hissed and Steve’s eyes closed. 

“I’m never leaving. Could stay inside you forever. Wanna see that beautiful face.”

Steve grabbed your leg and shifted you down and around, maneuvering you onto your back. His eyes raked up and down your form as his hands found your hips and drew you closer to him and his cock deep inside you again. He leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss as you arched your chest against his. 

You dug your nails into his shoulders, his name a chanted mantra between kisses. With each slide and retreat of his stiff cock in your slick channel, both of your groans got louder. Steve’s gaze occasionally dipped to where you were joined, watching his cock slide in and out of you. You arched your back again, and he dipped his head to draw one of your nipples into his mouth. 

"I. Yes. Harder. Oh God. Oh my God." 

Against your nipple he muttered, "Let me hear you. So good.”

But he didn’t fuck you harder like you asked. Your response was to tug on his hair, and Steve chuckled around the flesh of your breast. 

“I love the sounds you make.”

You moaned loudly, very wet now and very frustrated. The sound of the slick squelching of your act was such sinful music. Steve groaned, his jaw ticked tight from holding back.

“Please!”

But Steve just continued at the same languid pace.

“Later, when you’ve rested, I have plans for these babies,” Steve flattened his tongue and licked around both areolas. 

“Gonna lick, bite, kiss, fuck them. Be rough.”

You shuddered as he leaned up and blew on them, causing your nipples to draw up into hard peaks again and your pussy to shudder around him. Steve leaned up and stared at your breasts as they bounced with each thrust and he shook his head as his pace faltered. You clenched around him again and he spoke, his voice broken.

“I know you’re close. Feel so good around me.”

Steve looked into your eyes as he snapped his hips, and your mouth went wide again as he worked his hand between you and found your sensitive clit. 

Your eyes crossed as your slick walls clamped around his cock and milked him. 

"That's it. Cum for me. I'm so addicted to the sight." 

With three more pumps, Steve was coming apart, his control falling away. Another orgasm rolled through you and you tightened around him once more, causing a groan from Steve as you rode out the wave. 

“Holy fuck.” 

He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he continued to thumb your clit. Good Lord, it was impossible to think at all when he did that. You were a whimpering mess as you begged him again.

“Please Captain. Give me your cum, Sir. Cum inside me.”

Steve buried his head in your shoulder as he sped up incrementally, his cursing muffled against your skin. You rolled your hips to meet him, making him groan again. You turned your head to bite, then whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna cum on your thick cock again. Just fuck me. A little harder. Just three more pumps and I’m there. Pretty please, Sir.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist as Steve finally let go and gave you three hard, deep pumps, but as you predicted, he could not stop there.

Steve cursed and fucked you hard, stroking at the devil’s pace for at least a dozen more times, roaring as you stiffened and clamped down on his cock as you came.

“G-g-g-geeez! Fuck!”

Steve was a drooling, practically sobbing mess as the forcefull spray of his cum shot against your cervix, so much so that it leaked out almost immediately. Steve stopped and watched the sight, gasping, mouth open. Then, he looked back up at you.

“Everything about you, about us is so damn perfect. Especially this. We almost lost it. I love you, Libby.”

Your heart surged with emotion, finally understanding what had gotten into him.

“I love you too, Steve.”

You smiled and wiped the tears that were forming at the corner of Steve’s eyes as he softened inside you. 

“Shhhhh. Steve. It’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s take this one day at a time. Right now, we both need to sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Steve nodded and sank down into your arms as you held onto your super soldier and rocked both of you to sleep.

——

If you liked it, hit Reblog! 😊

[buckets-and-trees]

Puzzle Pieces in the Dead of Night

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.5k Summary: March 21, 2018. Still on the run, still in exile, you still never know when he will show up, but tonight Steve visits you again.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut: semi-rough sex, hints of somnophilia, manhandling, finger sucking, choking/breathplay, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex/creampie

Author Notes: Well, y'all did vote for more rough Nomad Steve. This is connected to the previous encounter/situationship from It Fit Too Right, with this happening just over a week later, but this has next to no plot, just smut, so you DO NOT need to have read the previous part. HAHA, THAT CHANGED, AND NOW IT'S PART OF THE FULL ON EXILED NOMAD SERIES. Title inspo from Taylor Swift again.

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It’s the jostling of your lower half that woke you up. You groaned sleepily and tried to reach for the covers that had gone missing, only your hand met the warm skin of a thickly corded bicep. You inhaled sharply, suddenly more awake, and smell him. Musky, leather, a hint of something spicy you still haven’t been able to identify, and some natural sweat. His scent has been embedded into your mind at this point.

“Steve,” you murmured.

The jostling had been him removing your underwear. You’d been sleeping on your side, and he kept you that way, only bending your knees a little more as he knelt behind you and lined up his cock with your cunt. Steve’s hand moved smoothly down your thigh to the crook of your knee, where he gave a soft squeeze. Then he leaned forward, and clamped his big hand down on your forearm, pinning it to the bed and bracing himself above you. You weren’t wet or ready for him yet, but he made do with only the precum leaking from his tip and pushed his length into your tight channel in one thrust that forced the breath out of you in a huff, burying himself inside you.

Your hand went down to paw helplessly at his hip. He gave you only a moment to take in the overwhelming fullness, and then he took up a blistering pace of shallow thrusts. Your shoulders shrank forward, hunkering in on yourself, and on the spot where his hand anchored your arm to the bed. You brought your other hand up to curl over his.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” he groaned.

And it did feel good, being too full of him. Your body agreed, welcomed him, slickening up to accommodate him.

He brought his free hand up to grip the back of your neck, angling your head where he wanted it. He nipped at your ear, licked the shell of it, and just kept you close, his heated breath over your skin yet another point of closeness and the feeling of being overtaken by him.

Steve shifted the grip on your arm to instead grasp both of your wrists and push them further up the bed. You wouldn’t fight him, but now he owned the restriction. You were trapped – and willingly so – beneath him. The rhythm of skin slapping against skin underscored your short little moans.  

He slid the other hand he had on you from the back of your neck around beneath your head to cradle the side of your face, cupped your jaw, and then his thumb pushed insistently into your mouth. You closed your lips around it and sucked gently, still moaning. The pressure on your tongue had you surrendering even more to him. He was here with a single objective: pleasure. And if he was going to use your body as that vessel, you would yield in order to extract every moment of bliss you could in return.

Steve kept the same pace far longer than usual did. The sensation was good but unsatisfying. It felt like he needed to fuck you to fuck, to feel. He was not yet building toward his orgasm or yours. You let him keep taking what he needed, losing track of the passing of time in the dead of night, only dim illumination bleeding in from the bedroom window.

When your hands finally started to feel numb in his grip, you twisted them gently beneath his hands. He grunted and released them. “Sorry,” he muttered against your shoulder. Gruff, but aware.

He then moved you to lay flat on your stomach. He slipped his thick thighs between your legs, spreading you open, and inserted himself into your pussy again. At this angle, his cock dragged against that spongy spot on the front of your walls with each thrust, and he kept the steady pace he had before, but went for deeper thrusts now.

You didn’t put on a show with the sounds you made, never had with any previous partners, but Steve knew how to manipulate your body too well, and gasps, moans, groans, cries, and sometimes screams, flowed freely from you. You couldn’t keep them in. You wanted him to know how you felt, and you also had no fear of judgment from him. He only ever encouraged you to let loose of all inhibitions with him. The gratified moan that melted out of you when he fucked you at this angle couldn’t be helped.

Steve pressed his palm down between your shoulder blades, forcing some of his weight down on you. His mere physicality was intoxicating, and he always used his body as much as he used yours when he came to you for sex.

And now the pleasure mounted beneath him as he fucked you into the mattress.

You gripped the sheets, tugging as the tension built, your muscles went taught, and  toes curled. You hung for just a few moments at the edge, and then a violent shiver went down your spine as your orgasm finally cascaded over you.

Steve groaned as your pussy clenched around him, and he squeezed your ass, groping the flesh.

You took in a lungful of air on your way back down and keened softly as he continued fucking you. “Good girl.”

He pulled out of you, and you whined.

“Not done with you yet,” he chuckled darkly.

In another swift movement that belied his preternatural speed and strength, he had you on your back, and pressed your thighs up against your chest. He drug the head of his cock against up and down over your swollen clit, making you whimper for him.

You recognized that look.

He needed to be in you even deeper, needed to dominate you, and look into your eyes while he did it.

When he fixed you with that look, your belly burned, and you needed it, too.

“Steve,” you begged.

No more warning, all the endless build up was only the preparation for this.

He pounded into you. His thrusts were brutal, drawing his length in and out in long strokes now. You felt it in overwhelming force. You didn’t want anything else. You wanted him to lose himself in you.

His hand moved to your neck, and you were already breathless, but he applied pressure there, restricting your air. It was a testament to his senses and skills that he could so carefully watch for your safety while continuing his deep and relentless thrusts. You let him steal your breath, one hand gripping the forearm pressed between your breasts to hold your throat. When you tapped at him, he was already letting up, and the flood of oxygen back into your lungs surged to spike your second orgasm while he ground his pelvis down against your clit. A silent scream was all you could manage.

Steve claimed your lips in a messy kiss as he came, hips stuttering, and then continuing in purposeful thrusts as he pumped you with his cum.

Finally, he let your legs relax and drop back to the bed. He let his full weight drop down onto you, and you let your fingers trail lightly up and down his spine as he caught his breath in the crook of your neck.

But Steve didn’t linger as long as you hoped for, biting your lip and turning your head away from him when you realized you had hoped he would stay there.

He left the room and entered your modest en suite bathroom. You listened to the sound of him cleaning up, then getting a washcloth from your cupboard, dampening it, and bring it back to wash you up – as he always did.

But it didn’t always mean he would stay.

Broken beast of a man as he was, it was laced through with glimpses of a more tender side of him – the side that you saw enough of not to be afraid of him.

The side that was becoming too much of its own danger to you. The side that made you yearn for him – not wanting the mind-blowing sex, but him.

When he returned to the bed, you tried to steady your breath and didn’t look at him.

When he slid down behind you and wrapped an arm around your front, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Of course, he felt and heard it.

“You okay?”

“I thought you would leave.”

The last time he’d come to your bed - a week and a half ago - it had only been for a quick fuck, and then he’d disappeared within the hour. You had been left wondering if you'd be reduced to only quick fucks.

“Not yet,” he said. He pressed a kiss just behind your earlobe. The gesture was too intimate for what the two of you were not. “I have the weekend,” he promised.

And you could not deny him.

You laced your fingers with his and sunk back against his chest.

You knew you could not have him, but you were as selfish as he was.

I honestly don't know what to say here. I watched something that implanted this scene into my brain, and that is all the explanation I have.

read more of the Exiled Nomad Series

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[jobean12-blog]

Had to be You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (enemies to lovers ish)

Word Count: 2,270

Summary: You and Bucky have been going at each other for months. He's grumpy and defensive. You're sassy and frustrated. Steve's had enough. So when Steve steps in to do something will it work? Or will it makes things worse?

Author's Note: At this point all I want is for Bucky to kiss me senseless for the rest of my life (and do everything else) but really. Kisses. Yes please. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some light mead comsumption, angsty ex talk, tension but softness, happy ending

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS! You get back here right now and open this door before I kick your ass!”

Steve’s chuckle only makes you angrier. “I’ll open it when you two make nice.”

“STEVE!” you screech.

His retreating footsteps have you banging your forehead into the thick metal of the door, muttering curses under your breath.

“Please tell me Stark has some hidden exit in here somewhere?” you sigh.

“I’m going to kill Steve.”

When Bucky’s speaks his first words since you got locked in the gym together you spin to face him, eyes hard.

“Get in line Barnes!”

“Hey, look at that kids, you’re agreeing already!” Steve’s voice rings out from down the hall.

With that last remark everything goes silent other than your frustrated huffs.

“Is this actually happening?” you whine. “Can’t you just break the door down?”

Bucky’s blue eyes stare blankly and you grow more agitated.

“Why the hell did he do this?”

You glare back in his direction, hands on your hips. “Because of your sunshine and rainbows attitude toward me!”

You spit out the words, letting them drip with sarcasm.

“MY attitude?” Bucky grits out as he sticks a finger in his chest. “Doll face. I’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to you.” That same finger spins to point at you now.

You face him fully and take a step closer.

“Grunts do not equal a greeting and barely answering questions and barely making conversation definitely does not show your gentlemanly side!”

Bucky opens his mouth to retort but you continue on. “And what about avoiding me all together!? What the fuck is that about?”

He runs his large hand through his hair and squeezes the back of his neck, setting his lips in a hard line.

“Fuck. Please tell me there’s still some of Thor’s mead in here,” he mutters.

“Why the hell would he leave alcohol in the gym?” you ask, your brows nearly hitting your hairline.

With a shrug Bucky starts moving about and searching under things. “He likes to ‘get drunk’” and he makes air quotes as he says it, “and then show us how he can still lift heavier weights.”

You can’t help the laughter that boils up and over but you quickly cover your mouth when Bucky gives you an unamused look.

“Here it is!” he chimes, seeming far too relieved.

You move toward him as you watch him take a swig from the bottle, the muscles in his neck shifting with every swallow.

“Save some for me,” you say quietly and hold out your hand.

He smirks.

“Careful doll. Too much of this and I’ll have to carry you out of here.”

As more of the mead circulates through your body you start to relax marginally, thoughts of killing Steve slowly fading.

Bucky has been sure to keep your consumption under control and other than feeling less murderous and calmer you’re lucid.

“So,” you muse. “It doesn’t look like Steve is coming back any time soon. And we’ve been quiet. No yelling or fighting.”

Bucky simply grunts in agreement.

“SEE!” you nearly shout. “That’s exactly what I mean. I say something and your answer is a grunt…WHAT. THE. FUCK!”

While waiting for his explanation you notice a slight pink flush to his cheeks and you find it hard not to throw him a triumphant smile.

Deciding to let him off the hook for now, you ask, “how long have you known your best friend is insane?”

To your surprise, Bucky laughs. A real laugh that has his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up.

You try not to stare too long but you find it difficult to look away.

“Are you drunk Barnes?”

His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth twitches with a boyish smile.

“You’re full of questions tonight doll. And for the record it takes a lot more than this to get me drunk,” he admits as his smile widens.

He shifts in his spot on the floor, his long legs now stretched out in front of him and you can’t help but focus on his thighs and the way his jeans pull tightly over the thick muscle.

“Who knew all we needed was a little alcohol to not fight.”

You chuckle and hold your hand out for the more.

He shakes his head no and places the bottle down on the floor before leaning forward.

“I don’t want to fight with you. Ever.”

At his admission, your expression hardens.

“Then why are you so….so… unfriendly?” you ask.

“Why are you always so sassy?” he shoots back. “Seems to me like you’re the one always looking for a fight.”

His answer makes you sigh.

“I don’t see you doing that to Barton or Steve…hell anyone else!” he adds.

He waits patiently, his eyes trained on you and his body straining forward.

With more nonchalance than you feel, you confess, “you’re kind of my type. And my dating track record sucks. So…you know…”

You motion to him. All of him. His long legs, broad shoulders, hard chest, sculpted arms and his perfectly handsome face.

Stunned, Bucky stares for a second too long and too fiercely.

Heat starts to tickle your skin as you feel your body react to his focused attention.

“Are you…” he starts, before clearing his throat. “Are you telling me that you’re attracted to me and that’s why you hate me?”

The tension is thick, stretching between you for many long seconds before you wrench your eyes away and look down at your hands.

“I don’t hate you.”

Your words are quiet and the next sentence that passes your lips is even softer. “I just have a hard time trusting men.”

When he doesn’t say anything you look up at him and see the hurt etched across his features.

“Are you sure it’s not just me you don’t trust?”

At his question, the realization of what he’s implying hits you and you immediately slide closer to him and reach your hands toward him.

“No Bucky. That’s not it at all. In fact I trust you with my life…just not necessarily my heart.”

When he continues to study you, his features softening, but doesn’t speak, you add. “It’s not your fault. Really.”

“I want to know why.”

“Why what?” you ask.

“Why you don’t trust men.”

His jaw is tight and his fists are clenched in his lap.

He’s clearly distraught over the fact that you’ve been hurt and you’re sure he’s thinking the worst. It melts you more and you want to reach out and trace the hard line of his jaw to reassure him.

“It’s not anything that bad. I’ve just been hurt. A lot. And not just in romantic relationships. Friendships too.”

He scowls. “In what ways?”

You shrug like it’s nothing.

“What is there to say? The first real relationship I was in ended when he found something better. He told me when we broke up, ‘why would I say with you when I can do better’.”

“That motherfucker,” Bucky fumes as he opens and closes his metal fist, the whirring metal sounds momentarily distracting you.

“Yeah. But that wasn’t the last. My boyfriend after that I found out was sleeping with my friend. Or I thought she was my friend.”

“Fucking hell. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

He stands slowly, visibly agitated.

“And we haven’t even gotten to my last boyfriend yet. Better sit back down.”

“I’m too fucking pissed off to sit,” he growls.

“Honestly, it’s more my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have dated him. He was just like the rest and when my friend sent me a video of the two of them fucking I was hardly surprised.”

You couldn’t look at Bucky anymore and you dropped your eyes.

“Guess I’m just not good enough to stick around for.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Doll.”

He sat down in front of you, forcing your attention back to him.

“Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”

You give him an exasperated look. “After being dumped three times you kind of start to believe it.”

Suddenly, he kicks at one of the weight machines, making the metal creak and bend then he falls to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.

The smell of him surrounds you and you have no where to look but into his eyes.

“These men,” and he spits out the last word. “Fuck that, they aren’t men. These pieces of shit have no idea what a gift you are and they don’t deserve you. They deserve a fucking beating.”

“Bucky.”

You squeeze his hands. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he counters. “Tell you the truth? Tell you that you’re gorgeous, sexy, smart, and kind.”

His eyes drop to your mouth and he licks his lips.

“Hardly kind,” you scoff. “Look how poorly I treated you.”

He reluctantly drags his eyes from your mouth and determination hardens his gaze.

“Nah doll face. I get it now. And honestly, a lot of that is on me. I couldn’t understand why someone as perfect as you wanted anything to do with me. I put up my defensives the only way I know how.”

You whisper his name hoarsely and run your thumb along his jawline.

His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and he exhales.

Even if you wanted to you couldn’t stop the way your body moved closer to his and when he slides his hand up your arm and around the back of your neck your lips part in a gasp.

Just as you feel his warm breath tickle your skin the lock on the door turns and Steve calls your names.

You quickly pull away with wide eyes, shooting one last look at Bucky before you lift your eyes to Steve.

He stares between the two of you and then at the half empty bottle of mead.

“What…?”

“Nothing,” you and Bucky say at the same time.

Bucky jumps to his feet and holds his hand out for you.

You take it and let him pull you up and into his body. Your chest brushes his with your every breath and you’re right back where you were just seconds ago…under his spell.

It only takes a moment for your past hurt to flood back and wash away the desire you’re feeling and in the next breath you’re mumbling goodbyes and rushing off.

When Bucky finally finds you the next day the apology you’ve been wanting to give him spills out.

“I just want to say that I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”

He takes a step closer to you, crowding you against the door of your room.

“I really appreciate that doll, but I should be the one apologizing to you. I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Thank you.”

It’s all you can manage to say with him so close to you.

You can feel your pulse jump and when you hear the moving metal plates in his arm you look down at his hands to see them clenched into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” you ask.

“I’m having a really hard time not touching you,” he explains in a pained whisper.

“Oh,” you breathe out.

He closes the space between you and your back hits the door. He slowly lifts his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb and then slowly sliding his fingers down to stroke your neck.

The gentle dominance in his touch sets you on fire and you lean into him.

“I’m scared of getting hurt Bucky.”

The words tumble out and you start to drop your gaze but he stops you with the press of his fingers under your chin.

His eyes harden and he doesn’t speak.

You whisper his name, your voice shaky.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just talking myself out of hunting every one of your exes down and skinning them alive.”

His voice grows with anger and you press a soft hand to his hard chest.

“They aren’t worth it.”

“You’re worth it.”

Taken aback by the intensity of his words you stare into his eyes, their blue color filled with longing and fierceness.

“Fuck doll. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are, do you? I can hardly catch my breath.”

Your hand shoots to your mouth and you quietly inhale, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the smile that wants to break out across your face.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks.

You drop your hand from your lips and reach for him. “No.”

He tilts his head and inches closer, his mouth lightly brushing yours.

Your fists clench the front of his Henley and your eyes close at the light press of his lips. You stay like that, trying to remember to breathe.

He pulls away only enough to stare at your mouth and then traces his thumb across your upper lip.

“What is it?” you ask with a worried tone.

His thumb falls to your lower lip and he gives it the same attention, savoring the softness.

“Why won’t you kiss me?”

He drops his hand from your lips and as his fingers fall they trace the outline of your neck before his hand wraps around the back of it and he brings you impossibly closer.

“I’m worried that once I start…” he breathes against your lips. “I won’t be able to stop.”

When he presses his lips to yours he groans low in the back of his throat, his hands desperate to get you closer.

The way you taste, the feel of your lips, your gasps and moans…he can’t stop.

He can’t stop.

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @lizette50

[holylulusworld]

Second Hand (2)

Summary: He only wants you.

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega (fem) Reader

Warnings: mentions of rejection/former abusive relationship, scenting, a/b/o, cuddling & snuggling, hurt & comfort, fluff

Catch up here: Second-Hand

Steve never left you out of sight since that fateful day.

He cradled you in his arms for a few more hours, letting his alpha calm down. He scented you and nuzzled your neck. His teeth nipped at your marred mating gland.

The alpha wanted to mark your neck and call you his omega. But Steve is a gentleman, and old-fashioned alpha wanting to court for you instead of claiming you in a hurry.

Unlike everyone expected, you walked out of the room, unharmed. Steve held your hand and growled at Tony and Bruce. He guided you out of the room, and toward his apartment, where you would spend the rest of the night, cuddling and scenting each other.

Steve made you feel safe and warm. Even more important, you felt content for the first time since your mate broke your bond.

While you slowly got used to having an alpha watching your every move, Steve tried to find a way to show you that there are alphas who treat their omegas with respect.

One night he sneaked into your home to surprise you with flowers and take-out, only to find you curled up in your wardrobe. You were close to your heat and tried to not nest on your bed.

Steve asked you about it, and you broke down in his arms, crying. You told him everything that your mate did to you, from the abandonment for weeks to partying with his friends to leave you alone during your heat for a business trip.

You even admitted that your former mate didn’t like it when you nested on your bed and that he yelled and screamed when you did it either way.

Steve growled low in his throat hearing that your mate hit the wall next to your head when you nested on the bed. You broke down, whimpering and crying.

Since that day, you nested in your wardrobe, or the corner of your small office at your apartment. You didn’t want to anger him even further. It didn’t stop him from breaking the bond. He blamed you for not being the submissive and sweet omega he always wanted.

“You stared at the wall again,” Steve softly said. He stroked your cheek, making you feel warm. “What is on your mind, Y/N?” He sat next to you in silence. Steve knew that his presence always calms you. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Steve. You grabbed his hand and held it tenderly.

“Today I was at the grocery store. I wanted to make dinner for us,” you sniffed and dropped your gaze. “He was there. Out of the blue my former—” You bit your tongue and shook your head. “That man stood in front of my shopping cart.”

Steve swallowed thickly. He didn’t say a thing but moved a little closer to offer his warmth.

“He wasn’t alone,” you wiped your eyes before leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder. “All those years he told me that he doesn’t want a baby. Every time I was in heat, he refused to breed me.”

A snarl escaped his lips. Steve doesn’t want to hear that you wanted someone else than him to breed you. “It’s okay, you can tell me everything. I’m here, as always. You’ve been there for me too.”

“His new mate, the woman he left me for, she’s pregnant,” you huffed. “Can you believe that he led me on only to give that woman what I always wanted? A loving mate, and a baby.”

“Hey, come here,” Steve murmured your name. He carefully helped you sit in his lap and wrapped his arms around you. You immediately buried your face in his neck to scent him. “Fate has a funny way to bring people together. You believed he was the one, and I believed Peggy was the one for me. Now we both know better.”

You nodded against him and sniffled.

“You’re my mate now, and you will never be alone again. I want you to nest on our bed, and to feel safe to do whatever you want at our home.”

He held you tightly and whispered your name in your ear. “I was frozen to the spot. All these times I imagined seeing him again, and the speech I held in my mind was just gone. My mind was blank.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes we can’t bring the words we want to say out.”

“I wanted to scream at him, and kick his balls,” you muttered under your breath. “His new mate grinned at me and rubbed her belly. She wanted to say something, and that was when Thor walked in. They blanched when he happily added things to my shopping cart.”

“You went shopping with Thor again?” Steve chuckled. He wasn’t jealous of Thor, knowing you helped Thor adapt to his new life on Earth.

“He was in his armor because he saved a cat from getting run over. They just stared at him, asking if he’s my mate,” you laughed against Steve. “Thor said no, and that he wouldn’t dare touch Captain America’s mate.”

Steve’s chest swelled with pride hearing your former mate got jealous. “I wouldn’t let him touch my mate,” Steve purred against you. “I’m already planning on giving her all the babies she wants.”

He pressed his lips against the mark he left while thinking about visiting your former mate. Steve decided against it, but he later asked Tony to keep tabs on your former mate. Just to be sure he stays away from you…

Tags in reblog.

[boypied]

pairings: steve rodgers x male reader

request: Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was found by the male reader and not a shield. Male readers help Steve come to terms with the past and get him situated to the present. Throughout the process, Steve grows to have feelings for male reader, which leads to their first date and a night of fun. Where they both lose their virginity.

warnings: SMUT ! , swearing, anal sex.

MDNI + FDNI !

You aren't sure how you ended up in this situation, but you had a famous war superhero from the 1940s in your backseat. You didn't want to take him to the hospital, in case they took him to a lab and began to test on him and you didnt want someone like Nick Fury to get ahold of him, because you knew he would exploit him and force him to go onto missions and risk his life, so I guess that's how you ended up in this situation.

His body just laid across your back seat, and your eyes gaze off the road and towards the man in the back. You admired his bulging biceps as they were almost tearing out of his shirt, his wet shirt to be exact! it clings to his abs. You dart your eyes back to the road to make sure you don't crash and die. Once you reach home, you manage to get Steve's body inside after a LOT of trial and error.

You gently lay his body down against your guest room bed. You slowly peel his soaked top off his body to reveal his rippling six-pack and his soft pink nipples, "Wow, this guy must have been sculpted by gods" You blush slightly before leaving the room, closing the door quietly.

THE NEXT MORNING

You lay down in your bed staring up at the wall, thinking about how there is a soilder from the '40s in your guest bedroom. Where do you even go from here? There isn't a manual book that teaches you how to help someone who hasn't aged since 1945. If he ends up staying with you long-term, you're going to have to start teaching him the modern language, how to use modern appliances, all of this stuff.

You head out of your bedroom and walk into your living room, where you find a confused and naked Steve Rodgers. "Steve?..." You mumble quietly, worried to set him off. He turns around and reveals the full package to you. "Where am I? and who are you?" Steve asked curiously and with slight concern in his voice. Your eyes trail from his perfect pecs down to his rippling abs to his 9 inched, veiny, meaty cock.

His eyes dart down and his hands immediately cover his cock and he blushes "heh, sorry about that." He laughs slightly before being quiet. "I found you while I went out exploring, and I was worried if I took you to a hospital, they would start running tests on you like you weren't a person" you say while making eye contact with him, he feels a warmth in his heart that you just filled. "Thank you for saving me." A smile creeps up onto Steve's face, which causes you to blush.

You start to show Steve around your house and telling him what everything is or at least the more modern things. You had to teach his how to use a mobile phone, where you showed him all of the different apps. He really felt connected to angry birds.

THE DATE

This whole date situation just kind of fell into your lap, Steve wanted to find a way to thank you after you taught him how to adapt to the modern world over the course of a couple months, so he came up with the idea of taking you out for dinner. Except you had to plan it all for him since he still didn't fully wrap his head around how to use a computer.

Since Steve hasn't quite worked out how to drive stick, you decided it would be for the better if you drove. The whole time while you were driving, Steve had his large hand placed on your thigh, moving it back and forth gently. Your heartbeat picked up the pace.

You parked the car outside the restaurant and turned to face Steve. You both have a warm smile from ear to ear on your face. "Let's head inside, then Cutie," Steve says, which causes the blush on your skin to intensify.

Once you are both finally seated, at a candle sit dinner, you can't take your eyes off each other. You stare at his chiselled jawline. You admire the way he spoke and the way he contorted his mouth. Each movement of his caused you to fall harder for him. He could ask you to do anything, and you would do it. "I am really thankful that you saved me." He says while staring at you lovingly, "I am really thankful you came into my life" you stretch your hand to hold his.

You both ate your food, paid, and went back to the car to drive, once you got home... that's when the fun truly began.

VIRGINITY LOSSED

You unlocked the door, and you both stumbled inside, not taking your lips off each other. "I am going to show you how much I am thankful for you." Steve says while lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, laying you down against the couch. He tears your shirt off to reveal your body, and he begins to devour your body, running his tongue along your body as he begins to suck on your nipples.

You begin to breathe heavily and mumble some moans "wait wait! slow down." You say as Steve pulls away from you." Am I doing something wrong?" His face contorts while looking down at you. "I'm.... I'm a virgin." You say while looking up at him, Steve laughs slightly before smirking. "So am I"

Steve continues to kiss up your body. Before pulling away to unbuckle his belt, to get out his semi-hard shaft. You stare at it, and your hole pulsates.

"Fuck" you gasped out as your mouth hangs open, Steve smirks as he enjoys how flustered you've become. "Do you want to... um... suck it?" Steve asks nervously. He sits down, and you go onto your knees between his legs. "I'll be honoured to, Steve."

You wrap your hand around the base of his thick shaft. You give it a few jerks before leaning down to swirl your tongue around his tip, slurping up all of his delicious pre-cum. He grabs your head, pushing you down to the base. "Awh! Fuck" he moans out, soaking in all of the pleasure. Your eyes water and your jaw aches, but you will stop at nothing to give him the best pleasure ever. You feel his cock twitch in your throat to indicate that he is close, so you pull away with a pop.

"Wait, no! Don't stop!" Steve pleads and begs with you while you strip off in front of him. You climb on top, straddling him. You place you hand on his cock lining it up with your hole. He nods at you to show he's ready, so you begin to slide down onto his shaft. "AH!" You begin to whimper at the slight pain but Steve begins to kiss your neck to help ease it.

Once he is finally balls deep inside you, you both pause for a moment. He lets you get used to his large size, rest your head on his shoulder while he gently thrusts into your tight hole. He begins to breathe heavily. "fuckk." he lays his head back while he grips your ass thrusting gently into you.

"...faster." You moan while kissing his neck, "Okay baby, I'll speed up." Steve begins to speed up his thrusting, his balls slapping against you. Steve pulls you into a kiss while his hand travels down to jerk you off. His hand goes back and forth, his thumb rubbing your tip. You moan into the kiss while his tongue dominates your mouth, "mhm" you moan.

His thrusts continue to hit your sweet spot, his tip constantly rubbing against it, causing you to unleash sultry moans. "AH! S-Steve, I'm close. " You moan out as Steve continues to jerk you off harder while thrusting into you.

You shoot your load onto Steve's abs, He pulls you into a kiss while he paints your walls, coating them in his cum. You both moan into the kiss as you ride out your high.

THE AFTER CARE

You both clean each other up while laying next to each other, embracing eachothers warmth. "I'm so happy I met you, Steve." you say while running your hands through his hair. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me!" Steve mumbles while blushing.

You both lay there for the rest of the night, cuddling and embracing each other.

Steve whispers into your ear, "Will you be my boyfriend?" He asks. You wraps your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. "Of course I will!" You blush and pull him tightly towards your body.

[babyjakes]

help me hold onto you.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex pollen

pairing | steve rogers x avenger!reader

warnings | sex pollen (reader was exposed to some sort of chemical agent that induced a persistent state of hyperarousal.) medical elements (reader is staying in the medbay.) crying (not related to the sexual interactions.) stevie is soooo soft :')). dialogue is soft and sweet, gentle praise and encouragement included. fingering. tummy rubs bc they make me soft. she comes quick! intense, prolonged orgasm. the beginnings of aftercare.

word count | 1,356

"Hey, hey- okay. I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here. Just tell me what you need."

Steve's brow was raised in gentle concern as he stood over your hospital bed. Dr. Banner had set you up in a secluded room at the end of the medbay, wanting to give you as much privacy as possible given the nature of your condition. It was still all a bit baffling to Steve; Bruce had shared any information he had available on the mysterious chemical you'd been exposed to out on your mission to a foreign bioweaponry facility, but most of it had gone in one of the supersoldier's ears and out the other. "Persistent heightened state of arousal" was the only phrase he was able to cling to, which still didn't feel like much to go off of.

As he stood there at your bedside, though, those words were all of a sudden making a lot more sense. You were a pitiful sight, really- curled up on your side with your knees hugged up to your chest. Your whole body was shaking, something that tore at your teammate's heart as he came to better terms with the severity of the state you were in. Overcome with obvious discomfort, all you could do was lie there and rub your sore knees together uselessly. Your hands reached out for him needily; in an instant, he was lowering himself down to sit beside you, leaning over you attentively as his face filled with concern.

"Oh doll," he hummed, reaching out to brush back your hair with a steady hand. Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your big eyes looking up at him pleadingly. As another wave of unbearable heat rolled over you, tears were building in your eyes. "How can I help, sweet girl?" Steve was pressing, "Is there anything I can do?"

In a moment of total weakness, you reached out for him again. This was completely abnormal behavior for you. Being the youngest and newest to the team, you were always intentional about maintaining an image of responsibility and restraint. But as Steve sat there at your side, his steel blue eyes looking over you so thoughtfully as he gently offered you his hands, your hijacked mind was fixating on him faster than you could realize what was happening.

"P-please," the weakness of your small voice broke Steve's heart. He nodded encouragingly, wanting to do anything he could to ease your suffering.

"What is it, honey? Hmm? What do you need?" he asked soothingly.

More tears built in your eyes as you failed to generate a verbal response. Instead, all you could do was continue to writhe pathetically. Steve's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of your movements. "Does something hurt?" You whimpered feebly at his question, shaking your head. "No, then what is it, sweetheart? Can you tell me, or- or show me?"

Desperation drove your every move as you shifted slightly onto your back, your knees falling apart as you brought a shaking hand down to motion over your hospital gown toward where the sensations were accumulating. If Steve was surprised or offended by your admission, he didn't let it show. Instead, he simply nodded, speaking with an understanding tone, "It's bothering you there, darlin'? Do you want me to take a look?"

Your wide, pleading eyes were enough to answer his question. Pausing, he took a moment to consider the best way to proceed. After a quick glance back at the door to the hallway, seeing that the coast was seemingly clear, he gently brought his hands over to lift up the thin fabric of the gown, pulling it back to expose the area you had pointed to. Steve couldn't help but gasp softly as he saw the ramifications for the first time; any doubts he could've had about the compound's strength or effects were immediately shot down as he faced the living, breathing evidence.

"Oh honey," he crooned worriedly, leaning his head down a bit to get a better look. Your pussy was so puffy it almost looked painful. Your clit was swollen to about three times its normal size, pulsating visibly in unison with your heavy heartbeat. Bruce had placed a wide gauze pad beneath you, and it wasn't hard to see why; with the constant state of arousal your body was trapped in, you were amassing an impressive amount of self-lubricant. Face drawn in disbelief and honest fascination, Steve struggled to find words to console you. "Sweetie, what can I do? Let me help you," his voice was swelling with concern. Swallowing hard, his gaze returned up to your face. "Can I-... would it help if I-... you know...?" The sweetest hint of pink rose up in his cheeks.

You were unsure of what would happen if he tried, but with the way your stomach was lurching and spasming in excitement at the mere thought, both you and Steve knew it would be senseless to not at least give it a try. Sensing your mild confliction, the supersoldier took a moment to brush back your hair again as his soothing voice filled the air, "It's alright, doll. Let me take care of you. S'just me, just Stevie. I'll be gentle, I promise."

As he spoke, he gently drew his hand down to begin rubbing at your inner thigh. Letting out a squeak of surprise, your heart jumped at the way his touch immediately sent sparks shooting up through your tangled nerves. "Easy," he hummed lowly, pushing on you carefully to encourage you to open up your legs a little further. Once you were nice and spread out for him, he took another deep breath. "Okay darlin'. Just keep breathing for me," he seemed to be trying to calm his own nerves as much as he was yours.

With the lightest amount of pressure he could manage, Steve carefully brought his pointer and middle middle fingers to sink slightly into your pool of arousal. They didn't linger long, as they then slowly dragged up your wetness to smear over your enlarged clit. The moment he came in contact with your poor button, your world was set ablaze. You had never felt such unbearable heat in your life; it was as if every atom within your core was being blasted into smithereens, an incredible amount of energy and pressure building up inside of you as a result.

"Easy, easy- shhhh," Steve was doing his best to talk you through it, watching as your hands scrambled to grip the sheets below you, your hips rocking in shameless desperation.

"Mm.... mmhh... hhh..." you struggled through incoherent whines. The man brought his free hand over to rub your tummy gently, trying to give you any sense of comfort and safety he could as he continued working the pads of his fingers in careful, steady circles.

It only took a few more moments of the simple stimulation to send an orgasm ripping through you with unimaginable force; as Steve saw your climax hit, his eyes widened, but he was intent on carrying you through it. Needy cunt spasming around nothing, your clit jerked and jolted beneath his tender traces. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, your whole body at the mercy of the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

And you kept coming, and coming, and coming- trapped in the grips of your orgasm for what must have been minutes compared to the fleeting moments you were usually granted. "Good, let it out," Steve was murmuring softly, watching as all your pent-up frustration was slowly pulled from your seizing body.

When you were finally winding down, breathless and slumped against the flimsy mattress beneath you, he was careful to pull his hands away with the utmost care to avoid causing you any further discomfort or unwanted stimulation. As he stood momentarily to find something to wipe his hands with, you let out a shaky whimper. "No, no, I'm here," he quickly returned to your side, retaking his place next to you on the cot. "I'm right here, doll. You're okay. Here, let me clean you up a bit, honey."

[brunchable]

𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞: Stucky x F!Reader

Part Two Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.4K Themes: Forbidden Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Bucky Barnes expected another typical therapy session, but the moment he meets Y/N, a sharp and unflinching therapist who doesn’t back down, everything changes. Used to keeping people at arm’s length, Bucky finds himself intrigued by her resilience and the way she sees right through his walls. A/N: I am also obsessed with Bucky ok? I can't leave him out. I will not use "chapter" for now because IDEK how long this will be. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Ciao.

Bucky entered the therapist’s office, expecting the usual routine with Dr. Raynor. But when he saw a younger woman sitting on the couch, legs crossed, glasses perched on her nose, he froze. She was scribbling in a notebook, completely absorbed in whatever she was writing. His eyes swept over her—pencil skirt, white blouse with the top two buttons undone. Definitely not Raynor.

Raynor was a pain in the ass enough, but now they're throwing this at me? Bucky thought, his jaw tightening as he watched her quietly scribble in her notebook. He wasn’t sure if this was some kind of test or another attempt to “catch him off guard.” His whole life had been one test after another, and this—this felt like just another trick up their sleeve.

Great, he thought bitterly, as if I haven’t been poked and prodded enough. Now I’m supposed to open up to someone who probably just finished med school.

The calm way she sat there, so sure of herself, made him itch with irritation. He couldn’t figure her out, and he hated that. Was she here to push him harder than Raynor? Or was this just another bureaucratic move to switch things up, like changing therapists would suddenly crack him open? 

What’s next? A therapy dog? His mind was racing, constantly searching for the next hit, the next blow. He felt like they were always trying to break him down bit by bit, like he was still their weapon. 

But this? This is just insulting. He didn’t know what to make of her, or what she could possibly do for him, but his instincts were already screaming to keep his guard up, to watch her carefully. There was always something more to these situations. Always a catch.

"Did they lose my file or something?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You don’t look old enough to be out of med school, let alone help me with… this." His words came out dripping with sarcasm, testing her right from the start.

Y/N didn’t look up immediately, taking her time as she finished writing something in her notebook. When she finally met his gaze, she adjusted her glasses slightly, then pointed to the couch with her eyes.

"I assure you, Sergeant Barnes, you’re in the right place," she said, her voice calm and even. "If you’d like to sit down, we can get started."

Bucky paused, the smirk still playing on his lips. He scanned the room, as if making sure he hadn’t walked into the wrong office, then sauntered toward the couch opposite her. He dropped down, stretching out his legs lazily, crossing his arms over his chest, still eyeing her with playful suspicion.

"Right place, huh? Are you sure about that?" He chuckled. "Didn’t realize they sent kids to do the hard jobs these days."

"Lucky for you, I’m not a kid. But if you’re hoping for someone older, I’m sure you can take it up with the front desk. Or we could just get started, your call."

Bucky’s smirk widened slightly, impressed by the way she shot back at him. He leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. "Alright then, since you’re apparently the expert. What’s the plan here? Gonna wave a magic wand, make all my problems go away?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, meeting his sarcasm head-on. "No magic wand. Just work. But something tells me you’re not afraid of a little hard work, are you?"

That caught him off guard. He was used to deflecting with humor, but she wasn’t backing down. In fact, she seemed perfectly comfortable in this verbal sparring match.

"Hard work, huh?" He leaned forward slightly, his tone softening but still sarcastic. "And here I thought you were here to hand me a quick fix."

Y/N smiled ever so slightly, just enough to show she wasn’t intimidated. "I don’t do quick fixes. That’s for amateurs."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, genuinely impressed despite himself. He had expected someone more nervous, someone he could easily rattle. But this woman? She wasn’t having any of it.

"Alright, doc," he said, nodding slightly, acknowledging her stance. "You’ve got my attention. What’s next?"

Y/N adjusted her glasses, flipping a page in her notebook. "Next? We talk about your progress. Or, we can sit here in silence while you continue throwing sarcastic remarks at me. I’m good with either option."

"You think I’m just gonna spill my guts? It doesn’t work like that."

"I didn’t expect it to.”

"I’m fine with silence.”

Bucky muttered, his eyes flicking to the window as if contemplating an escape. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about himself. Especially not with someone like her—someone so young and… focused.

Leaning forward slightly, his playful look faded into something darker—a cold, calculating stare. His blue eyes locked onto hers, hard and unblinking, as he gave her the same menacing look that had unnerved countless soldiers and enemies. It was the stare that said he wasn’t someone to mess with.

Most people would have flinched by now, maybe glanced away or shown some kind of discomfort. But Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She met his icy stare head-on, calm and unwavering.

Seconds ticked by then into minutes. Bucky’s gaze bore into hers, daring her to crack under the pressure. But she didn’t blink. Didn’t shift in her seat. She held his stare, unshaken.

As Bucky realized she wasn’t going to back down. He clenched his jaw tighter, leaning in even more, his menacing stare intensifying. And still—nothing. Y/N just stared back at him. After what felt like an eternity, Bucky scoffed, the sound low and begrudgingly amused. He leaned back into the couch, letting out a breath.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, clearly impressed. His smirk returned, but this time, it was less mocking and more intrigued. "You didn’t even blink."

"I’ve seen worse," she shrugged.

"Most people can’t handle the stare," he said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice. Bucky stared at her for a moment longer, still processing that she hadn’t buckled under his intimidation. 

"I’m not most people," Y/N replied, her gaze still locked on his.

"You’re not, huh?” Bucky let out another short scoff, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them gradually easing. Bucky leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if contemplating his next move.

"Alright," he finally muttered, his voice quieter now, the edge of defiance softening. "Let’s get started."

× × × ×

Bucky walked down the street, hands deep in his pockets, his mind still stuck on the therapy session with Y/N. He couldn't shake the image of her holding her ground against his menacing stare. Most people crumbled under that.

He was impressed. Hell, maybe even a little thrown off by it.

He reached a small café, the door chimed as he walked in. He’d been coming here for weeks, liking how quiet it was. Bucky slid into a booth in the corner, the furthest one from the entrance, his usual spot. The place was small, quiet—barely anyone noticed him here. That was what he liked. No eyes following him. No whispers.

As he sat down, he glanced at the menu out of habit, though he already knew what he wanted. He tapped his fingers against the table, feeling the hum of anxiety still coursing through him. His thoughts wandered back to Y/N’s. Her refusal to let him dictate the session. It had been a long time since someone had stood their ground with him.

“Same as usual?” the waitress asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Same.”

The door chimed again, and out of reflex, Bucky glanced up. His eyes landed on her—Y/N. But she was different now. She was dressed in a casual sweater and jeans, her hair down, and the serious, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. She looked relaxed. For a moment, Bucky frowned. Was this the same woman from earlier?

She hadn’t noticed him yet, busy ordering her coffee at the counter. As she turned, their eyes met, and for a split second, surprise flickered in her gaze. Then she smiled. 

It wasn’t a polite, professional smile like the one she had in the office—it was real, warm. Bucky had to admit, she was even more beautiful when she smiled like that. She made her way over to him, her expression soft and light, a stark contrast to how she’d been before.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with an amused smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either. You got a twin or something?” Bucky leaned back, trying to hide the fact that her smile had thrown him. He gave her a skeptical look, still trying to wrap his mind around the shift in her demeanor.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Nope. Just me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You sure? Because you’re not exactly giving off the same ‘don’t mess with me’ vibe as you did earlier.”

“I save that for the office.” She laughed lightly, the sound catching him off guard again.

Bucky blinked, still half-convinced she had to be a different person. “You’re… different outside of work.”

Y/N smiled again, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice how that smile completely transformed her. The serious, no-nonsense therapist was gone. 

“Therapist mode can be intense,” she said, settling into the seat across from him. “Gotta decompress too, you know.”

“Decompress, huh?” Bucky muttered, still eyeing her. “I wasn’t sure you even knew how to.”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” she said with a grin. “You think I’m a robot in the office?”

“Was starting to wonder. . .”

She laughed again, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee. “Nope. Just human.”

Bucky stared at her for a moment, taking in how much more approachable she seemed now. The difference between the Y/N sitting across from him now and the one who had held her ground in the office was stark. He hadn’t expected to see her like this—relaxed, smiling, laughing. It was almost disarming.

“You’re hard to figure out,” he said, still trying to process the shift.

She shrugged lightly. “That’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the café filling the space. Bucky glanced at her again, her soft smile lingering in his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing her like this, outside of the serious office atmosphere, made him feel… at ease.

Eventually, Y/N glanced at her watch. “I should get going. Got other plans.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, same.”

She stood, grabbing her cup. She paused for a moment, then gave him one last smile—a sweet one, the kind that lit up her whole face, making her seem even more different than the woman who had stared him down earlier.

“See you at the next session?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, half-joking, "Hm, I don’t know."

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened, her eyes holding him with a quiet confidence. "I will see you, Sergeant Barnes," she said, her voice more insistent this time, not leaving room for doubt.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, shaking his head slightly, "What’s the point of asking then?”

As she walked out of the café, Bucky leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a small smile. She had completely thrown him. Her smile, her relaxed demeanor—it was all so different from what he’d expected. For a moment, he wondered if she really did have a twin. But then again, maybe she was just someone with more layers than he’d first realized.

And he found himself eager to know more.

× × × ×

Steve Rogers wasn’t sure how he had gotten talked into this. Well, actually, he knew exactly how—Sam Wilson had dragged him along to this party, claiming Steve needed to “loosen up” and enjoy life more. But standing in the middle of a loud, flashing room with music pounding in his ears, Steve wondered if he should have pushed harder to stay home.

"Come on, Cap," Sam had said with a mischievous grin as they walked through the entrance earlier. "You’ve been in retirement long enough. Time to see what the world’s been up to while you were busy saving it."

Steve stood near the bar now, trying to blend in, his eyes scanning the room. People were dancing wildly, laughing, and having fun in the swirling haze of strobe lights. It was a far cry from the kinds of parties he had attended back in the 1940s—those had been calm, slow, and filled with small talk and jazz music. 

This? This was chaos.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. He had barely touched his drink when Sam elbowed him from the side, laughing. “You look like you’re plotting an escape route. Relax, Cap. Have fun.”

Before Steve could respond, Sam was swept into the crowd by some friends, leaving Steve standing alone by the bar. Even in the anonymity of the darkened room, Steve still attracted attention. His broad shoulders, strong jawline, and quietly confident presence drew glances from several women who were passing by. The strobe lights occasionally highlighted his features, and more than a few curious eyes lingered on him as he stood by the bar.

“Hey there,” she said, leaning in slightly, her voice loud to be heard over the music. “You look like you’re way too good-looking to be standing here alone.”

Steve smiled politely, keeping his distance. “Just here with some friends,” he said, not giving much away.

She stepped a little closer, her eyes lingering on him. “Well, maybe I could keep you company?”

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I’m good. Just enjoying the night.”

She looked a little surprised but shrugged it off with a casual smile. “Your loss,” she said with a wink, before disappearing back into the crowd.

Steve let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing as she left. He wasn’t here for that kind of attention, though it seemed inevitable. He glanced around, hoping to spot Sam or Bucky, but before he could move, another woman approached.

He was just about to step away from the bar when another woman, a petite brunette with a mischievous smile, appeared beside him. 

“I’ve seen you reject at least ten girls in the last ten minutes,” she said, her voice teasing. “Either you’ve got impossibly high standards or you’re just too shy to admit you’re having fun.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Neither, really. Just here with some friends. Trying to keep a low profile.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “A guy like you, keeping a low profile? Good luck with that.”

Steve smiled, nodding toward the crowd. “Seems like it’s working so far.”

The woman laughed, but before she could say more, the crowd surged again, and someone bumped into Steve, almost spilling his drink. 

“Sorry about that,” a voice said, half-shouting over the music.

Steve turned and caught a glimpse of another woman, this one different from the others. She was barely recognizable in the strobe lights, her features blurred by the darkness, but something about the way she carried herself caught his attention. She didn’t linger too long on him, and didn't try too hard. Her smile was brief but real.

“No problem,” Steve replied, raising his voice to be heard over the music. 

“Not your scene?” she asked, leaning a little closer to be heard.

“Not exactly,” Steve admitted, putting a finger in to cover one ear.

She laughed lightly, stepping closer, her eyes catching the light for a brief second. “Same. My friend dragged me here. I’m pretty sure she thinks I need to ‘loosen up’.”

“Guess we’re in the same boat,” Steve said, feeling a bit more at ease. She had a warmth in her voice, even amidst the chaos.

Before either of them could say more, a group of partygoers surged by, and one of them grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her toward the dance floor. She was caught off guard, stumbling a bit before turning back toward Steve, her hand still caught in the wave.

“Come on!” she shouted over the music, her face lit up with a playful grin.

“No—I don’t think—”

Steve hesitated. He wasn’t much of a dancer—especially not in a place like this—but before he could protest, Y/N grabbed his hand, tugging him into the crowd. The pulsing rhythm of the music pounded in his chest as they were swept into the moving mass of people. The lights flashed wildly, and before Steve knew it, he was dancing, caught up in the infectious energy of the room.

Y/N laughed as they moved, her hand still in his, and Steve found himself smiling despite the overwhelming atmosphere. The strobe lights flickered, casting everything in flashes of light and shadow, and for a moment, it was easy to forget who he was, to forget the weight he usually carried.

Steve didn’t have time to react before he found himself right behind her, the sea of people pushing them closer together. The music pounded through the room, the heavy bass vibrating under their feet. Steve felt her back press against his chest, her body swaying in time with the beat.

The lights flashed, casting her in and out of shadow, but Steve was caught in the moment. She moved to the music effortlessly, her hips swinging in rhythm, her back brushing against him with every movement. He felt the warmth of her body through his shirt, the closeness sparking something inside him he hadn’t expected.

The lyrics of the song echoed through the room: “I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off, take off all your makeup, baby, take it off. . . I just wanna watch you when you take it off, take off all your clothes and watch you take them off.”

Y/N's body moved in perfect sync with the music, and Steve, despite his hesitation, found himself falling into the rhythm. Her hips pressed against him, swaying seductively in time with the beat. He hesitated for a moment before resting his hands lightly on her hips, unsure but drawn in by the intensity of the moment.

The crowd pushed them even closer together, and Steve’s grip on her hips tightened instinctively. She didn’t pull away; instead, she leaned into him, moving her body against his, teasing, playful, completely in tune with the energy of the music. Her head tilted slightly, her hair brushing against his neck, and Steve felt his pulse quicken.

She bit her lower lip, glancing back at him through the lights, a playful spark in her eyes. Steve’s breath caught, his hands sliding up slightly from her waist as their bodies continued to move together. The energy between them was electric, like nothing he’d ever felt before. The music drowned out everything but the pounding of his heart and the feel of her body so close to his.

Suddenly, the crowd pushed them even closer, and in the heat of the moment, Y/N turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. It was a brief touch, but it sent a shock through him. His grip tightened on her hips, and before either of them could think, their movements slowed, the tension between them peaking.

“I just can't wait to see it all I'm so turned on”

Y/N turned her head fully, her lips finding his in a fast, unexpected kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft. They parted-in surprise, she thought and then she slipped her tongue inside. It had been forever since she'd done this, never had she done this, but it came to her like breathing. It was electric, quick, but charged with the energy of the moment. 

Steve’s world narrowed to just the two of them—the music, the lights, the crowd—all vanished as her lips met his. He stopped her, just for a moment, then flipped it, deepening the kiss with a flick of his tongue and a firm grip on her hip. Now it was him kissing her, her soft sigh filling the space between them. He responded with heat, his desire matching the unexpected pleasure he found in her.

The kiss only lasted a moment, but it left both of them breathless. Y/N pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise, like she hadn’t expected it either. They were still close, her breath mingling with his as they caught their bearings.

Before either of them could speak, Y/N's friends found her and pulled her with them unaware of Steve, and she was swept away, disappearing into the throng of dancers. Steve stood there, frozen for a second, his heart still racing from the kiss, his hands still tingling from where he’d touched her.

He blinked, trying to steady himself, but she was already gone, lost in the mass of people. The music still pounded around him, the lights still flashed, but all Steve could focus on was the ghost of her lips on his and the wild, unexpected energy of the night.

Steve shook his head, still trying to process what had just happened. The kiss, the way her body had fit so perfectly against his—it was all too new, too different. The way young people dance these days, he thought, he can’t believe he allowed himself to be dragged like that. It was nothing like what he was used to. He exhaled slowly, needing a moment to collect his thoughts. Pushing through the crowd, he scanned the room for Sam. He was going to get an earful for this.

Steve spotted Sam by the bar, laughing with a couple of friends, and beside him was Bucky, nursing a drink and quietly observing the room. Steve made his way over, still feeling the lingering heat of the moment and trying his best to shake it off.

Sam noticed him approaching and immediately grinned, raising his drink in greeting. “There he is! Our man of the hour!” Sam shouted over the music, his voice laced with amusement.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression more reserved but no less curious.

“I don’t know about that,” Steve rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the slight flush still creeping up his neck. 

Sam’s grin widened as he leaned in closer. “Come on, Cap, you’ve got that look on your face. What happened?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell them. But Sam already knew him too well, and Bucky… well, there was no escaping his sharp gaze either.

“Nothing,” Steve said with a shrug, hoping to play it off.

“Uh-huh,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes. 

“Nothing, huh?” He took a sip of his drink, but the teasing gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. “Didn’t look like ‘nothing’ when I saw you on the dance floor with… what’s her name?”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, “You saw that?”

Sam burst out laughing, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “Oh, I saw it. The whole room probably saw it! You were practically glued to her!”

Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead. “It wasn’t like that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “Oh, really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were having a little too much fun.”

Steve shot him a glare, but the way Sam wiggled his eyebrows made it impossible to stay serious. 

Bucky, still quiet, finally smirked. “You’re not exactly blending into the background there, punk.”

“It just… happened, alright?” Steve admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to explain. “We were dancing, and the crowd kept pushing us together. And then…”

“And then you kissed her!” Sam finished for him, laughing again. “Oh man, Cap, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me! It just happened—like in the heat of the moment.”

“Yeah, because ‘heat of the moment’ sounds nothing like you.” Bucky chuckled, finally downing his alcohol.

Steve shot him a look, “Who's side are you on?”

“The ‘heat of the moment’? You mean to tell me you got caught up in the lights and music and had your little dance-floor moment? That’s priceless!” Sam was practically doubled over with laughter now.

“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know her.” Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile despite the teasing. 

Sam straightened up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Doesn’t matter, man. That’s what makes it even better! You don’t know her, and you still ended up in some steamy dance-floor kiss? That’s wild for you.”

Steve groaned again, but the smile tugging at his lips was undeniable.

“Well, I’ll say this,” Sam said, leaning in closer with a sly grin. “You’re full of surprises, Cap. I thought you’d be sitting in a corner all night, but instead, you’re out here stealing kisses in the middle of a crowd.”

“Okay, fine. It was… unexpected. But I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

Sam raised both eyebrows in mock surprise. “Unexpected, huh? Is that what we’re calling it when you’re practically glued to someone in the middle of a party? I mean, the way you two were moving—if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were auditioning for a music video.”

Steve sighed, but a part of him couldn’t help but feel amused at the whole situation. He never expected to get caught up in something like that. 

“I didn’t even get her name,” he said, almost to himself.

Bucky tilted his head. “Classic.”

Sam’s grin softened into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe that’s the universe telling you it’s time to loosen up a little. Enjoy the ride.”

Steve smirked, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

Sam clapped him on the back again. “Look, Cap, you’ve spent your whole life saving the world. You deserve to have moments like that. Maybe even more than most people.”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. The memory of her lips on his, the way their bodies had moved together—it wasn’t something he was likely to forget anytime soon.

Sam raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Captain America, finally letting loose.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Steve chuckled and clinked his glass against Sam and Bucky's.

“You’re doing just fine, Cap,” Sam said with a wink. “Just fine.”

+ + + +

Y/N’s heels clicked against the smooth marble floors of the mansion’s foyer as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The security system beeped, and she casually entered the code, the familiar beep fading into silence. The house was large, quiet, and pristine—almost too quiet after the chaos of the party.

She kicked off her heels, phone pressed to her ear as she continued her animated conversation with her best friend.

“I’m telling you, it was insane,” Y/N laughed, still buzzing from the energy of the night. “I don’t even know how I ended up on the dance floor, but there I was, dancing like I had no care in the world. And, oh my god, there was this guy...”

She paused, biting her lip at the memory of the mysterious man she’d danced with. The lights had made it impossible to see him clearly, but the way he moved, how his hands had felt on her hips—it sent a thrill through her just thinking about it.

“I didn’t catch his name,” she continued, flopping onto the plush couch in the living room. “But we were so close, and when we kissed... girl, I don’t even know what came over me.”

Her friend gasped on the other end of the line, clearly invested in every word. “Wait, you kissed him? Who are you right now?”

“I don’t know!” Y/N laughed again—almost squealing, “It was one of those wild party moments, you know? The music was loud, people were everywhere, and then—boom—his lips were on mine.”

“Omg, didn’t you get his number?”

“No.” She frowned then she smiled to herself, enjoying the carefree thrill of the memory. “Honestly, I thought I’d regret it, but no. Imagine that? My dad would kill me.”

As she continued recounting the night, a slight rustling from the other side of the room made her pause. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she wasn’t alone. In the doorway stood Thaddeus Ross, her father, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

He cleared his throat loudly, the sound cutting through the excited chatter still flowing from her phone. Y/N froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized she’d been caught mid-party recap in her usually reserved father’s presence.

Her friend’s voice buzzed in her ear, still going on about the party, but Y/N quickly pulled the phone away, muttering, “I’ll call you back,” before hanging up. The excitement drained from her face, replaced by a nervous smile.

“Dad,” Y/N greeted, forcing a casual smile. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

“Apparently, you didn’t. Sounded like quite the party.” Thaddeus Ross narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping further into the room.

Y/N stood, suddenly aware of how much she’d let herself unwind. She straightened her clothes and tried to appear nonchalant. “It was just a party with some friends. No big deal.”

Thaddeus arched an eyebrow. “Friends?”

“Yeah, friends. You know, just... normal people.” Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay the whole thing.

Thaddeus studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp, as if trying to piece together the details she hadn’t given him. 

“I see,” he finally said, his tone unreadable. “It sounded a bit more... involved than your usual nights out.”

Y/N swallowed, brushing off the heat rising in her cheeks. “It was just for fun, Dad. Nothing to worry about.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just gave her a long, assessing look. 

“You know how important it is to keep certain parts of your life secure, Y/N,” he said in that familiar, commanding tone of his. “People might take advantage if they know too much about who you really are.”

Y/N gave him a playful smile, trying to brush off his seriousness. “Dad, I’m 24. I should be out there kissing strangers at parties by now, right?”

Thaddeus didn’t smile. He simply sighed, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. 

“I wasn’t wearing a neon sign that said ‘Mr. President’s Daughter’ on it. It was just a party. I’m allowed to have fun.” Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone still light but more pointed now.

Thaddeus didn’t seem to be swayed by her attempt to joke. “Having fun is one thing, but keeping yourself safe is another. You may think these parties are harmless, but they aren’t always what they seem.”

“Dad, relax. I know how to keep myself out of trouble. I mean, come on, I live here, don’t I? No one’s getting past your fortress.” Y/N sighed, but her smile remained. 

Thaddeus gave her a long, measured look, as if deciding how much more to say. Finally, he relented just slightly, his voice softening. “It’s not just about the security, Y/N. It’s about the people you surround yourself with.”

Y/N softened her tone too, standing up to face him. “I get it, Dad. I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m not going to live in fear. I can take care of myself.”

Thaddeus didn’t reply right away, his eyes flicking to the security system panel before returning to her. “Just... be careful. Not everyone you meet at those parties will have good intentions.”

“I know, Dad. I promise I’ll be careful.” Y/N nodded, her earlier playfulness giving way to a more serious understanding. 

Thaddeus gave a short nod, clearly not fully convinced but unwilling to push the conversation any further tonight. “Good. Just remember what I said.”

He turned and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there with the lingering weight of his words. As the tension dissolved, she let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I’m 24,” she muttered to herself, smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

“I heard that!” Thaddeus yelled from another area of the house.

“You were supposed to!” 

Despite everything, the memory of the night—the music, the dancing, the kiss—still played in her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Next Chapter

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Overboard Decorating » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Week of October 6th-12th

Pairings: Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Steve comes home from a mission to see that you went overboard with the Halloween decorations.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

Halloween divider made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Steve was about to announce that he’s home, but he got sidetracked by the Halloween decorations you had put out while he was on a 2 day long mission. He looked around as he walked further in the house.

“Stevie, you’re home!” You exclaimed excitedly.

You ran up to him and jumped in his arms. Steve dropped his bag on the floor so he could wrap his arms around you. You kissed him sweetly.

“I missed you so much.” You murmured softly.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” Steve says softly.

Steve put you back on your feet gently before looking at the Halloween decorations again.

“You decorated.” He points out.

“I did!” You confirmed happily. “I’ll show you what I decorated while you were on the mission.” You say.

You grabbed his hand and practically dragged him to the living room with excitement coursing through your veins.

“I bought these little plastic pumpkins from Target yesterday.” You tell him, showing him the little pumpkins you put on the coffee table. “Aren’t they cute?” You asked.

“Yes.” He answers. “They have faces on them.” He says.

“That’s why I bought them!” You say.

You then showed him the strand of orange lights you hung along the mantle of the fireplace. Steve noticed more of the little plastic pumpkins with faces on them.

“How many of these did you buy?” Steve asks curiously, picking one of them up.

“I don’t know.” You answered. “Oh! I have to show you the new sheets I got for our bed!” You said.

Steve followed you to yours and his bedroom. You threw yourself on the bed out of excitement. He couldn’t help but smile at how cute you’re being.

“I got Fall colored sheets and blankets for the bed!” You point out.

“I see that.” Steve says with a smile.

Steve walked towards the bed. He rubbed his hand against the blanket, feeling the softness of it.

“Did I go overboard with the Halloween decorations?” You asked, fiddling with your fingers.

“No, of course not.” He says.

You and Steve have been dating for a year and he asked you to move in with him a few weeks ago. You weren’t sure what the boundaries were when it comes to decorating for the holidays. That’s why you asked.

“Are you sure?” You asked to make sure.

“I’m sure.” He says softly.

Steve leaned over and kissed you. You smiled against his lips.

“Did you see the bone yard I set up in the front yard?” You asked.

“Yes I did.” He pecked your lips softly. “That’s my favorite.” He says.

You grinned happily against his lips. He then put his forehead against yours and gazed lovingly in your eyes.

“I’m gonna take a shower and then we can watch Halloween movies.” Steve says.

“I love you!” You practically squealed, pecking his lips softly.

“I love you too.” He says with a smile.

While Steve took a shower, you got some snacks and set up the living room for movie night. Steve didn’t miss the Halloween decorations you put on the sink counter in the bathroom. He thinks it’s really cute. He also likes it.

“I like the Halloween decorations you put in the bathroom.” Steve says, walking in the living room.

You smiled widely as he sat down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you as you snuggled yourself against his side. You grabbed a blanket and draped it over the two of you.

“What Halloween movie are we watching first?” Steve asks as you reached for the remote.

“Hocus Pocus.” You answered. “It’s my favorite Halloween movie.” You tell him.

“I haven’t seen it.” He says.

Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when he said that.

“How?!” You exclaimed. “It came out in 1993.” You tell him.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re fucking old.” You jokingly mumbled, pressing play.

Steve turned his head to you, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Excuse me?” He says.

“I said you’re fucking old.” You said louder.

“First of all, language. Secondly, what did I say about the old jokes?” He says.

“Bucky thinks it’s cute.” Is all you said.

Steve playfully shook his head at you and chuckled.

“I’ll let it slide this time, but I won’t next time.” He says, playfully warning you.

“Ooh, I’m so scared.” You playfully said in a funny voice.

Steve pecked your lips softly before the two of you turned your attention to the TV.

“Let’s watch the movie.” He says with a smile.

-Bucky’s Doll

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Babymoon

Kinktober 2024 - Day 25

Pairing: Dad!Steve Rogers x Mom!Pregnant!Fem!Reader

Kink: Lactation

Word Count: 1100+

Summary: Tony pays for you and Steve to get away before you two have a new baby on your hands.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, riding, vaginal fingering, nipple play, lactation kink, milk drinking, soft sex, slow sex, slight pregnancy kink), soft!Steve, tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship

a/n: Here is Day 25! It's a soft one but I enjoyed it! I hope you all do too!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Sam had taken the kids for the night, so you and Steve could go on a weekend long vacation before your baby girl arrives. You two were just going up to a cabin in upstate New York that Tony paid for because he knew that you two needed some time away. You two drove in comfortable silence through the hills of upstate, you only getting nauseated once or twice during some of the rougher roads. Steve had packed your bag with water, lollipops, some crackers, and a bottle of dramamine. You were grateful that he knew what you needed before you did and that he was in tuned with your needs. He had a hand on your swollen belly the entire ride, only taking it off to sip his drink from the cup holder. 

You two finally got to the cabin and he parked in the driveway before getting out, running over and opening the door for you. He helped you out of the car and took your bag from the passenger’s seat and led you towards the cabin, “You do know that I can walk, right?” You asked as he rested a warm hand on your lower back. 

Steve chuckled and kissed your head, opening the front door for you two. “I know, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” 

You rolled your eyes at him and you walked over to the couch, and he helped you sit down. “Dork.” You giggled and grabbed your water bottle from the side pocket of your bag and took a sip. 

He chuckled and kissed your cheek, “Wait here. I’ll go grab the bags from the car.” He walked out of the cabin and grabbed your bags from the trunk. He came back in after locking up the car and the cabin. He set them down by the bed in the middle of the cabin. It was across from the fireplace, with the plush couch pushed against the wall underneath the window. The kitchen and dining room were right beside the door and the bathroom was beside the bed. It was cozy and modern, you almost wanted to move in. 

Later that night after dinner, you and Steve were tucked into bed. He had made you, your favorite turkey chili with crackers, and he had provided you with Tums before you even had to ask for them. You laid against Steve’s bare chest as his hands rubbed your swollen belly softly, you were dozing off until you felt his warm hands move up to your sore nipples. You let out a soft gasp at his touch to your sensitive buds, you were already breastfeeding your youngest and with the baby on the way, your nipples were leaky and sore as ever. His touch shots bolts of pleasure and slight pain up your spine. 

“Steve, mm, we can’t. We might wake the-” You stopped your sentence, realizing that you two were alone for the first time in years. You turned to him with a knowing smile and he smirked and wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you into his bare lap. “We don’t have to be quiet.” You giggled and cupped his face and yanked him down to kiss you passionately. 

He groaned against your lips as you tugged him closer by his hair, your fingers tugging on his blonde locks. “I should’ve taken you on a vacation sooner.” He chuckled as you pulled away with puffy lips and a lustful look in your eyes. 

You smirked at him and ran your fingers through his hair, “You should’ve. Stark had only been offering since Sarah came along.” You giggled and he rolled his eyes playfully at you. 

“Wanted to spend all of my time with her then James came around and it was never the right time.” He shrugged and you nodded in understanding and he leaned down and took your leaking nipple into his warm mouth. You moaned at the warmth of his lips wrapping around your peaked nipple, he moaned as he tasted your sweet milk fill his mouth. He swallowed each drop and you moaned at the relief it gave you as the soreness began to give way with each suck. His large hand moved down to your bare core and he slid two fingers into your soaked cunt. He stroked along your walls slowly, curling them against your walls, aiming to hit that sweet spot deep inside of you. 

You moaned louder as he thrusted his fingers in and out slowly, “F-fuck, it’s been too long.” You moaned, feeling sensitive due to your pregnancy. It only took him speeding up his fingers and giving a hard suck on your nipples to push you over the edge. You cried out, gripping his shoulders tight as you shook with your orgasm, your thighs feeling weak as he stroked you through your orgasm. 

“Good girl. You’re always so good for me.” He mumbled against your temple as he pressed a soft kiss to your skin. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, taking them into his mouth, moaning at your taste as it coats his tongue. He reached down to line his cock up to your hole and help you slowly sink down on his length. You gasped and moaned as he filled you up, “Fuck, you’re tight and wet for me, doll. You feel so perfect.” He groaned and rested his forehead against yours. 

You whined softly as he leaned back down and took a nipple into his mouth, he suckled on your breast as he slowly moved your hips up and down on his throbbing length. You felt your orgasm coming on quicker with each thrust of his cock. He drank from your nipple greedily, making your walls quiver around him with each suck. You yanked him closer to your chest, your fingers tangled in his hair as you felt the coil snap in your belly. You came gushing around his cock, he groaned and grunted as he pulled you flush against his lap as he hit his orgasm. His tip shot his hot cum inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. You two slumped against each other and he pulled off your nipple and kissed your lips passionately. 

He cleaned you two up after a little bit and he helped you back into bed. He laid behind you after shutting the lights off with the dim glow of the fireplace lighting up the room. He nuzzled into your neck as his arms wrapped around your swollen belly, rubbing your belly with one hand. You smiled softly and pressed yourself flush against his chest, and you two dozed off, without the worry of waking up to a screaming baby. You two could just enjoy each other that night.

[imthebadguyyy]

Iron Hearts

With the same fire and charm that runs in the Stark bloodline, you’ve never been one to fade into the background.

pairing : steve rogers x reader fandom : mcu synopsis : As Tony Stark’s younger sister, you’ve always shared his brilliance and bold personality. Outgoing, witty, and never afraid to speak your mind, you’re just as comfortable stealing the spotlight as your brother is. But when Tony ropes you into joining the Avengers' operations after the Chitauri invasion, the last thing you expect is to clash with Captain America, Steve Rogers—a man so different from the fast-paced world you’re used to. Steve’s stoic, old-fashioned values collide with your free-spirited nature, sparking a connection that’s as electric as it is infuriating. As the Avengers face new threats, you and Steve find yourselves drawn together in unexpected ways, each challenge bringing you closer. The world is always in need of saving—but will the Iron legacy and a shielded heart leave room for something more?

EPISODE 1 : COLLIDE

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The low hum of machinery filled your private lab, a familiar and soothing backdrop to the glow of various monitors and the holographic interface suspended above your desk. You were in your element here—surrounded by sleek gadgets, circuits, and blueprints only you understood. The soft, sterile light of the fluorescent bulbs bathed everything in a cool hue, making the outside world feel distant, almost irrelevant. Your hands moved with practiced precision, making the final tweaks to your latest invention—something sleek, cutting-edge, and powerful. It was not for public eyes, least of all Tony’s. Let him bask in the glory of his Iron Man suits and his public heroism. You preferred working in the shadows, away from the spotlight. After all, the real power came from the things people didn’t see.

Just as you were about to run another test, FRIDAY’s calm, computerized voice broke the silence. “Incoming call—Tony Stark.”

You let out a small, exasperated sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Of course Tony would interrupt now, just when you were getting into the groove. Without breaking your stride, you gestured toward the nearest screen, signaling FRIDAY to patch the call through.

Tony’s face flickered to life on the screen, his usual cocky grin already plastered across his face. He looked annoyingly well-rested for someone who constantly threw himself into world-saving chaos.

“Hey, sis. Got a minute?” His tone was casual, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Tony always had an ulterior motive.

“Not for you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched with a slight smile. You’d perfected the art of giving Tony a hard time over the years. “What do you need, Tony?”

“Can’t a brother call to check on his favorite sibling?” He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “We both know I’m your only sibling.”

“Touché,” he admitted, chuckling softly. "But seriously, I need you."

You froze momentarily, your hand hovering over the interface. Tony rarely outright asked for help, and when he did, you knew it was big. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave him your full attention.

“I need my secret weapon,” Tony added, his voice dropping to that tone he used when he really wanted something.

You blinked at him, skeptical. “Secret weapon? Tony, I’m not about to be your backup tech support.”

Tony grinned, undeterred by your resistance. "This isn’t just tech support. It’s big. New team, new mission, bigger stakes. And who better to help me keep this bunch in line than you?"

You hesitated, glancing at the half-finished prototype on your desk. For years, you’d operated under the radar, happy to let Tony soak up the limelight. Being his sister came with a certain level of scrutiny you’d avoided like the plague. You preferred the quiet. The idea of stepping into the Avengers' world—especially now—seemed chaotic at best.

“I’m not suiting up, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you finally said, narrowing your eyes at him. The last thing you needed was to get dragged into one of his world-saving escapades in some shiny new armor.

“Of course not,” Tony grinned, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that told you he wasn’t ruling anything out entirely. “Just come to the Tower, meet the team. If you hate it, you can go back to hiding in your lab and pretending you’re not a genius like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the thought lingered. A new team? A new mission? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. If things went south, you could always disappear back into the shadows. But something in Tony’s tone hinted at urgency, something serious brewing on the horizon. He wasn’t just calling for fun. He needed you.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed off from the desk. “Fine. But this better not be some ploy to get me into an Iron suit.”

Tony’s smirk widened. “No promises.”

The call ended with a flicker of the screen, and you were left standing in the soft hum of your lab, the weight of Tony’s request hanging in the air. You glanced at your half-finished prototype one last time before grabbing your jacket, muttering under your breath, “What have I gotten myself into?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Later, at Avengers Tower, you stepped into the grand lobby, the space sprawling before you like something out of a futuristic movie. Towering glass walls reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling effect that made the entire room shimmer. High-tech displays blinked with data and notifications, while sleek metallic accents added to the modernity. It was a world apart from your cozy lab, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how Tony had truly outdone himself with this place. The grandeur was impressive, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, a sense of unease settling in as you stepped further inside.

Just as you took another step, a voice sliced through the air behind you, cool and assessing. “So you’re the sister Tony doesn’t like to talk about.”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding slightly at the sight of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his muscular frame radiating authority. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was an edge to it—a mix of skepticism and something akin to wariness. He looked you up and down, his gaze critical, and you could already sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface. He thought you were just another Stark, another piece in Tony’s ego-driven game.

“And you’re the soldier out of time,” you replied, matching his coolness with your own. The words felt sharper than you intended, a defensive instinct kicking in. “Nice to meet you.”

Steve offered a tight nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t smile. “Tony’s told me a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” you shot back, a hint of a smirk dancing on your lips. But Steve’s expression remained unyielding, the weight of his gaze unwavering.

“I’m not here to judge,” he stated, but his eyes bore into you, steady and measuring, as if he were trying to peel back layers of your identity with sheer will alone. “Just here to see if you’re serious.”

“Serious?” You scoffed, your heart racing with indignation. “About what?”

“About helping, about doing what’s right. We’ve got enough egos on this team.”

Your smirk faded, replaced by a flash of frustration. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know your brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Tony,” you retorted, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension between you crackled in the air, palpable and thick. You hated the feeling of being judged before someone even bothered to know you, and clearly, Steve didn’t like the idea of another Stark stepping into the fold.

For a moment, silence engulfed you, and you could almost hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The intensity of Steve’s gaze felt like a spotlight, and you wondered if he could see through your facade, exposing the vulnerabilities you kept hidden. You could sense his protective instincts flaring, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, and somehow, you felt like an outsider even though you were family.

Just as the tension threatened to spiral further, Tony strolled into the room, an air of nonchalance enveloping him. “Hey, you two! Getting along already?” His grin was impossibly wide, brightening the atmosphere even as it made the air around you feel heavier with unresolved tension.

You shot Tony a glare that could’ve cut through steel. This was not the time for his usual bravado. Steve merely shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to contain a smile. “We’ll see,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on you, as if he were weighing the likelihood of your success in this new venture. Then, with a final, assessing glance, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Great. This is off to a fantastic start,” you muttered under your breath, a mixture of annoyance and apprehension churning inside you. The day had barely begun, and already you could feel the weight of expectation bearing down on you. As the lobby buzzed with the energy of heroes and high-tech innovation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope, teetering between proving yourself and succumbing to the shadows that felt all too familiar.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, reminding yourself that you were here to help. No matter what Steve Rogers thought, you had your own strengths, your own path to carve in this world. You just had to figure out how to make them see that.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The air in the war room was thick with tension as Tony briefed you on the mission, his voice crisp and urgent. “So here’s the deal: leftover Chitauri tech has been activated by HYDRA operatives in the city. It’s supposed to be a routine clean-up mission, but we know better than to underestimate anything HYDRA gets their hands on.” His brow furrowed, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach knot.

You listened intently, nodding as he laid out the plan. But as he insisted you tag along—even if just to observe and assess—you felt a mix of excitement and dread. You weren’t officially part of the team, yet here you were, being dragged into the chaos by your brother’s unwavering belief in your abilities.

When you arrived at the scene, the streets were already in chaos. The sounds of sirens blared, drowning out the shouts of frantic civilians being evacuated. Smoke billowed into the air, curling around toppled cars and shattered glass. You felt a chill run down your spine as you surveyed the destruction.

Amid the chaos, Steve barked orders at the rest of the team, his authoritative voice cutting through the noise like a beacon of hope. You hung back, monitoring the situation from a mobile unit that Tony had rigged up for you—a lifeline of information in a storm of uncertainty.

“Stay behind the lines!” Steve called out to you over his shoulder, his tone firm as he and Natasha led the charge into the fray.

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and determination bubbling inside you. "I know what I’m doing, Captain," you shot back, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The last thing you wanted was to be coddled like a helpless child.

Just as the fight erupted, the atmosphere shifted. A crackling energy surged through the air, and before you could process the threat, one of the HYDRA operatives unleashed a pulse from the Chitauri device. The wave of electricity shot toward you, a blinding flash of danger that sent adrenaline coursing through your veins.

In that split second, everything shifted. Time seemed to slow as you braced for impact, your instincts screaming at you to move, to do something—anything. But before you could react, Steve surged forward like a force of nature. He slammed his shield into the ground with a resounding thud, creating a barrier that absorbed the surge of energy before it could reach you.

You stumbled back, wide-eyed, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you like a tidal wave. Steve turned to you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. “I said stay behind,” he said, his voice clipped, but there was a hint of protectiveness that made your heart race.

“I had it under control,” you snapped back, though deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. You felt a surge of embarrassment rising within you, the remnants of the adrenaline making you defensive.

Steve didn’t argue further, but his gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to gauge the depths of your resolve. The moment stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, and you could sense a silent acknowledgment between you—this was new territory for both of you, a fragile thread connecting your destinies.

But as quickly as it had come, the moment shattered. With a final look that communicated both concern and determination, Steve charged back into the fray, his shield raised high as he fought against the chaos. You stood there, heart racing, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—frustration, admiration, and a flicker of fear for what lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you refocused on the task at hand. You weren’t going to let this moment define you. You had to prove to yourself, and to Steve, that you belonged here—among heroes and legends. The fight was just beginning, and you were ready to carve your place in it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The mission concluded in a flurry of activity and relief, but the tension between you and Steve lingered in the air like an unresolved chord. Back at the Tower, you settled in front of the computer, the glow of the screen casting an almost ethereal light across your face as you replayed footage of the battle. Each frame brought back the chaos—the electricity crackling, the screams of civilians, and Steve’s shield slamming into the ground just in time to save you. The rush of adrenaline from earlier mixed with a more unsettling feeling as you examined the moment you almost lost everything.

As you scrolled through the footage, you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Steve; the weight of his gaze felt palpable, a steady warmth that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the battle you had just fought. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the soft light of the hallway, watching you with a quiet intensity.

“You handled yourself well out there,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere, cutting through the silence that surrounded you.

Surprised, you glanced up at him, momentarily meeting his gaze. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice a mix of pride and humility.

“But next time,” he continued, the firmness returning to his tone, “don’t make me have to save you.”

A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips, a spark of your trademark confidence flaring up in response. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t,” you shot back, your tone light, though beneath it was a current of seriousness.

Steve didn’t respond immediately, his expression shifting as he studied you. In his blue eyes, you caught a flicker of something deeper—perhaps a grudging respect, maybe even a hint of admiration. It made your heart flutter unexpectedly, a rush of warmth that was both thrilling and confusing. The Captain of America saw you, and for a moment, the weight of expectations from being Tony Stark's sister lifted, replaced by a connection that felt genuine.

He nodded once, a subtle acknowledgment of the moment shared between you, before turning to leave. As he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just another fleeting exchange. You were carving out your own space in this team, proving that you were more than just Tony’s sister—you were a force to be reckoned with in your own right.

Left alone in the dim light of the lab, you turned back to the screen, but your thoughts were no longer on the footage. Instead, your mind lingered on Steve’s quiet strength, his unwavering resolve. You were beginning to understand that there was more to him than just the Captain—the man behind the shield had his own battles, his own vulnerabilities.

And you felt an undeniable pull towards him, a sense of camaraderie that was slowly transforming into something deeper. The mission had ended, but the journey was just beginning, and you were more determined than ever to prove yourself—not just to Steve, but to the entire team.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The mission had been a success, but the moment Steve saw you—Tony’s sister—standing there, he felt the weight of responsibility tugging at his heart. He knew you had potential; he’d seen you handle yourself with surprising skill, but he wasn’t prepared for how much the little spark in your eyes got under his skin.

Leaning against the doorway, he watched you replay the footage of the battle. You were focused, your brow furrowed in concentration, and it captivated him. You radiated a unique blend of confidence and determination, much like your brother, yet with a warmth that was distinctly your own.

When he finally spoke, telling you that you handled yourself well out there, he truly meant it. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a mix of admiration and wariness wash over him. You were Tony’s sister—his little sister. He recalled the stories Tony had told him about your childhood, the sibling rivalry, and how fiercely protective Tony had always been of you. That instinct felt like a wall between them, even as he felt drawn to you.

“Don’t make me have to save you,” he warned, hoping to impress upon you the importance of caution. He had seen too many people underestimate their enemies, and he didn’t want you to be another victim of that recklessness.

Your response—light and teasing—pulled a small smile from him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t.” It was infuriating how effortlessly you seemed to deflect his concern. You had a spark that reminded him of Tony, but there was something more disarming about you. Something that made it hard for him to maintain his composure.

He nodded, more to himself than to you, before he turned to leave. He didn’t want to admit how much your presence affected him, how he found you attractive in a way that made him question everything he knew about focusing on the mission. But he also understood that getting involved with Tony’s sister could complicate things—complicate his already tangled life.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As the days turned into weeks, you became a more permanent fixture in the Tower, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic team dynamic. Watching you interact with the others was eye-opening. You had Tony’s quick wit, but there was a warmth in your approach that brought out the best in everyone.

He remembered a moment during a team meeting when Clint made a joke at your expense. Without missing a beat, you shot back, “If you’re going to insult me, at least make it clever.” The room erupted in laughter, and Steve found himself chuckling along, secretly impressed by your tenacity.

But the more time he spent with you, the more he struggled with his feelings. You were intelligent, fiercely capable, and incredibly brave—qualities he admired. Yet every time he looked at you, he felt the ghost of Tony’s protective nature hovering over them. He could practically hear Tony warning him to keep his distance, reminding him that you were off-limits. It was a mental tug-of-war, and every glance between them only heightened his awareness of how close they were getting.

One evening, you both worked late in the lab. He caught you watching him as he threw punches at a training dummy, a curious smile dancing on your lips. It was a moment of connection, but it also made his heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you were trouble, yet there was something about you that drew him in, like a moth to a flame.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : so this is new series im experimenting with!! not proofread. any comments tips suggestions you have would be highly appreciated. happy reading!!

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all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove@bluesongbird-blog

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to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

[ramp-it-up]

You’ve Got Me Thinking

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. It's the holidays. What happens when Bucky seems to skip out on going to your parents home for Thanksgiving? Does he really care about you like he says he does?

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: I know that I've been awol, but life has been lifing lately. This story is about Thanksgiving; A Christmas/New Year's fic featuring Steve Rogers will be posted BEFORE New Year's eve. Thank you for continuing to rock with this story. And let me know if you like it (knocking the rust off, and I hope you do!)

This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after Dessert or Disaster. It is in answer to this ask.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut directly below the cut! Oral (female receiving) implications of a blow job, cancelling plans, hurt feelings, traveling to family for the holidays. Bucky is full of surprises, sneaking around, voice kink, humiliation kink, praise kink, use of Daddy, sex in a game room, fingering, a light slap, slight choking, backshots on a pool table, breeding kink, creampie, raw p in v (wrap it up, folks), use of google translate Romanian. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The Saturday before Thanksgiving, Bucky Barnes feasted on his favorite food. 

You.

“Remember. Let me hear your sounds, Frumoasă.”

Bucky murmured it against your thigh, inhaling your rich scent. 

His thumbs were at your apex, separating your wet, swollen folds and marveling at the way the moonlight highlighted your body.

“These lips glistening in the moonlight. So, so, so, beautiful.”

You arched your back as Bucky delivered kitten kisses up your thigh with each ‘so.’ You clamped your lips together and moaned, causing Bucky to reach up and tug your chin down, momentarily shoving his fingers inside your mouth. 

“Do you want me to eat this pretty pussy out or not?”

His voice made you shudder.

“Yessss. Please Jamie!”

You reached down and tangled your fingers in his hair, grinding on air, trying to entice him to finish his meal.

“Then let. Me. Hear. You.”

Buck slapped your jaw lightly, squeezed your throat momentarily and flicked each of your nipples as his hand journeyed back down to hold you open for him.

“Okayyyy. Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky’s heart started beating faster and his cock jumped, spilling more precum onto the sheets. His long fingers gripped your hips as he shook his head and descended toward your empty, clenching cunt.

His tongue slid through you, separating your lower lips and causing your hips to buck up off the bed.

“Ohhhhhhhh!”

Bucky stopped and smiled down at your pussy.

“That’s it,” He pinned your juicy thighs down with his large hands. “Give me your sounds Baby Girl.”

You started keening as he suckled your clit. You brought both hands down to grip his hair as he thoroughly and skillfully ate your pussy.

“Taste like fucking heaven. Every single ti—.”

He mumbled it against your cunt until you cut him off by mindlessly grinding your pelvis in his face. At this point, you were all feelings, no thoughts.

“Fuck, Jamie! I’m gonna—”

Just then, Bucky inserted two fingers inside you and curled them just at the right angle to have your thighs trembling around his head. 

“Oh shit… Jamesss, I—”

All of a sudden, you tried pushing him away as you started squirting, but he was immovable, continuing to lick, suck, and sip at you until you were a screaming, sobbing mess.

Bucky moved and lay beside you to take in your blissed out face and play with one of your curls as you came back to earth. He was catching his breath, and marveling at your beauty and how much he loved you. Yes, he was hard as a rock, but he would take his pleasure soon. 

He was determined to be worthy of this love. He needed to tell you his plan.

Your eyes fluttered open and you grinned up at him.

“That was too much. You’re so mean to me.”

Bucky grinned, chest puffed out because he knew that you meant the opposite. 

“Unh hunh. So why are you smiling?”

You tried to stop. 

“I’m not…”

“Sure. Whatever you say. C’mere. I gotta tell you something.”

“Why don’t you let me tell you something? I’ll speak into the mic.”

You reached for his cock and well, who was Bucky to argue with your perfect little hands taking hold of him?

—--

Later, after getting cleaned up and on fresh linens, Bucky finally told you what he’d been meaning to all night.

“Frumoasă, There has to be a slight change of plans. I can’t fly down to Hilton Head with you tomorrow. I will try to make it for Thanksgiving…”

You froze in his arms, the contented vibe you shared shattered. You leaned up on your elbow, the raised eyebrow making Bucky stop talking. You looked pissed. 

“You promised…”

It was all planned out. This was the big “meet the parents moment.” Your parents had retired to Hilton Head after years of Brooklyn winters. Holidays had been spent in South Carolina for the last 10 years. 

In your mind, this was the next big step. In Bucky’s mind, he still had work to do.

Your anxiety spiked sky high. You began to doubt that Bucky was as into you as you thought. Maybe he was just selling you a dream after all. 

Bucky sat up, sheet pooling around his waist and the moonlight which streamed in from his floor to ceiling windows highlighted the ridges of his abs. Your eyes followed those muscles up to his handsome face, the rueful look on it, and his disheveled curls.

He was so hot. Instead of caving, you shook yourself out of your lust for him to sit up and cover yourself with the bedclothes. 

Bucky glanced at your arm holding the bedding against you like a shield and frowned. He knew that it was the beginning of shutting yourself off from him. 

He sighed.

“Frumoasa, I know that I promised I would go to your parents home for Thanksgiving, and I will try to still be there. But I also promised that I would go legit. For us. That is more important right now.”

Bucky’s own anxiety had increased the closer the holidays came. He wasn’t good enough, not clean enough to meet your parents yet.

“Steve and I are speeding up the timeline to divest of as many… unconventional businesses as we can…”

“So that’s why he’s in Atlanta? What kind of business is he offloading there?”

Bucky was silent and you just nodded, pulling the sheet off of him and standing up to wrap it around you, not allowing him to see your nakedness, nor caring about his.

“I’ve got to go pack.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you got dressed and you stiffened as he came behind you and tried to touch your arms. He dropped his hands when you did that and although you couldn't see it, you knew that his face fell.

It was evident in the way his voice cracked.

“I’m not abandoning you, Frumoasă; I love you.”

You turned and looked at him then. Bucky’s sea blue eyes bore into yours. You almost melted. Almost. Instead you wiped away a tear and Bucky’s wrecked look turned into devastation. You lifted your chin.

“I love you too, James.” 

You sighed. 

”Maybe this is good. We need some space.”

Bucky didn’t try to touch you again, even though he just wanted to take you in his arms again. Instead, he just moved to pull on some sweats and a hoodie.

"I don’t ever need space from you. But I'll give it to you if you need it." 

You were in Bucky’s arms before you knew it. 

"In a minute."

You tried not to register how good it was by closing your eyes, as if that could erase all of the emotion and love you felt for Bucky in such a short time. But you were doubting if he truly felt the same way. He kissed you on the cheek and his fingers trailed along the side of your face to turn it toward him.

"Listen. This is me and you. I know you don't want to hear this right now, but you are number one. I'm just trying to get my life right for you before we go further. You are everything to me."

You tried not to drown in the deep pools of Bucky’s eyes.

"You and me both being stubborn as fuck help the situation, but something's gotta give."

You felt like the room was spinning around you two.

“I just wish that you would trust me and give me you."

“You have me.”

Bucky smiled and gave you a chaste peck on the lips.

“Okay… We’ll talk about that later, but now, let’s get you home so you can pack.”

Your outrageous pride prevented you from changing your mind and staying. His prevented him from asking you to stay. 

So Bucky drove you home.

—--

On the flight down to the island, you couldn’t help but think of the private jet you were supposed to fly in with Bucky. You had hoped for some private mile high times, but Instead you flew commercial, first class thanks to Bucky.

Your man was crisscrossing the country to tie up loose ends. Sam and Steve and Nat were doing the same. They all seemed to have a renewed sense of urgency.

You looked down at your phone at the numerous texts from your Bucky. You sighed and felt bad at your attitude. He was doing this for you. 

You still missed him like hell, though.

—--

Your mood lifted as the balmy air of the barrier island greeted you at the airport. When you saw your cousin waiting for you at baggage claim with a giant sign with your name on it, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

She almost knocked you over with the force of her hug.

“I’m so glad to see you! It’s been foreverrrrr!”

She looked around you as you gave her a bear hug.

“Where is the hunk? Rabbit?”

You cocked your head at her.

“Rabbit? Do you mean Bunny? What the fuck is wrong with you! It’s not Bunny, its Bucky, Bitch!” 

You couldn’t breath, you were laughing so hard.

“He’s good. Gotta work. But we’re back together now. Let’s go get something to drink before I face the parentals.”

Your cousin laughed and shook her head, then headed to your favorite spot on the island.

—-

"What is Bunny doing now?"  

You rolled your eyes at your cousin’s joke.

"I do not know. He's all the way in Chicago. The last time he texted me, he told me he was grabbing some food. I'm gonna let him live..."  

You tried to play it off, to seem unconcerned.

"Ummmhmmm.  And when was the last time he texted you?" 

The question came as your phone buzzed.

You blushed as you grabbed your phone. 

"Well, before this,10 minutes ago."  

you looked down at her phone at a pic of Bucky with his mouth full of shawarma and silhouetted by Lake Michigan.

Next time I see you I’m going to eat you like this.

You smiled down at the pic. You wanted to text him back, but hadn't in a couple of hours.  He'd kept texting, determined to keep communicating with you. You loved this man.

"What...?" 

Your cousin was saying something to you but you weren't paying attention.

"Are you mad at him?"  

She had that look on her face. Damn, she’d known you too long. Your entire life.

"I don't know, maybe a little bit? Disappointed is what I am. I wanted him to be with me. I miss his stupid face!"  

“When is the wedding?”

“Shut up!”

You smiled down at his pic again.

“No one is even thinking about all that.”

Except every night that you fell asleep in his arms. And every morning when you reached for him, whether he was with you or not. Bucky had you thinking about your life, your house, your kids. You cleared your throat.

“Enough about me. What is up with you? You look good. And relaxed.”

She looked deeply into your eyes and smirked. She knew you too well. You might as well have been sisters rather than cousins, the way you grew up so close. But she didn’t press you at the moment. 

“Yeah, well. I’m not working two jobs anymore. I can concentrate on dancing and teaching.”

“What? Did you get an angel investor or something?”

Your cousin’s dream had been dance, but after she was injured, it was to open a dance studio. It had been a struggle for a while to find the funds.

A look flashed across her face.

“You could say that. Let’s just say I received a one time donation to the Peach Preserve Dance Studio.”

“What are you even talking about cousin?”

She just grinned back at you, as circumspect as you were.

"Nothing at all except I'm about to fuck this creme brulee french toast and bottomless mimosas..." 

“Now you’re speaking my language!”

—-

Four days later, Bucky’s hand hovered over the door to your parents’ expansive beach house at the hour Thanksgiving dinner was to be served, but he didn’t make contact. He started to turn around, but Steve was blocking his escape route.

“Don’t be such a fucking jerk. You can do this.”

“I’m gonna. Punk.”

Bucky glared at Steve over his shoulder. 

Steve raised his eyebrow at his best friend. He nodded at the door. 

“Go get your girl and talk to her parents, asshole. Get started on your life, jerk.”

Bucky’s heart was hammering against his ribs. Years of mob life, fights and worse, and he was sweating like a teenager about to see his crush and meet her parents. Just the thought of forever with you made him feel faint. 

He wasn’t scared of wanting it; he was scared that you wouldn’t want it too. 

Bucky took a deep breath and decided to man up just as the door swung open before he could knock. An older man’s grinning face appeared. 

“Well what do we have here? You two gentlemen lost?”

Bucky’s response caught in his throat, but Steve caught the gleam in the man’s eye. He had a feeling this man knew exactly who Bucky was.

Steve was right, Ray and Karen had thoroughly researched James Buchanan Barnes when you told them about him. They weren’t impressed with what they found out, but Ray thought that the fact that he was standing in front of their house at this moment took balls. Mostly because he knew his stepdaughter.

“Hello Mr. Y/LN. My name is Bucky.”

“What the hell is a Bucky?”

Steve had to laugh at Ray rattling his best friend’s cage, but was rewarded with another glare.

“Let me start again. My name is James Barnes. Bucky is short for Buchanan. My middle name. My friends call me Bucky.”

Bucky had straightened up and extended his hand although at this point, Ray was leaning against the doorframe, letting Bucky twist in the wind as he rambled. Then, the door opened wider.

A gorgeous older woman appeared beside what must have been her husband. Steve looked her up and down. She must have been your mother. He elbowed Bucky in the side. Bucky wanted to beat him over the head with the flowers in his hand, but your mother began to address him.

“Barnes? So you are the young man who has our little girl all caught up? Are those flowers for Y/N?”

Bucky gave one of his gorgeous smiles, finally remembering how to charm a woman.

“No ma’am. They’re for you.”

Karen’s exacting gaze took in Bucky and Steve, but especially Bucky. A gleam came into her eyes as he handed her the bouquet.

“Thank you James. Nice touch. It’s about time you came to get her. I was beginning to lose faith in you.”

She grinned and winked at Bucky while pulling him into the house where Bucky and Steve were enveloped in the warmth of your parents home and the smell of turkey throughout the house. All of Bucky’s senses sharpened when he heard your voice. 

“Ma, where do you want these—” 

You froze in the kitchen doorway. 

“Holy–.”

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his reaction to you. Steve smirked, Ray rolled his eyes and Karen beamed while you melted. Bucky had an audience but he didn’t give a damn.

You were absolutely gorgeous. Your light sweater dress hugged every lush curve of you. Hair was escaping your messy bun and those eyes went wide, your lips parting in surprise. 

“James?”

 “Hey Frumoasă.” 

—-

You very nearly dropped the bowl of food in your hand when you saw Bucky standing in the foyer. Here he was, with his broad shoulders and lean muscle under a black leather jacket.

His jaw was dusted with that sexy black and grey stubble that you loved to feel between your legs so much and those eyes made your knees go weak. You sighed, nearly whimpering.

This was your man. And he came for you.

What a man. 

 “Hey Frumoasă.” 

Before you could stop yourself, you handed the food to your cousin and ran to Bucky. He caught you and wrapped his strong arms around you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you managed to whisper into his neck, trying not climb him like a tree in front of everyone. You felt him shiver and you pulled back to gaze into Bucky’s eyes as almost everyone else stared at you two. 

“You look good, Baby.”

To Bucky, that was the understatement of the year. You looked amazing and all he wanted was his lips on you but given the circumstances, he reverted to kissing your hand, the move that made you fall for him. It was your turn to shiver, which caused him to grin, then make space between you two as he looked at your parents and the rest of your family who were watching the scene with rapt attention.

Except for one cousin and Steve, you had an audience but Bucky was more concerned about making his own impression. 

“Is the invitation to dinner still open?” 

You just smiled in response as your mother cleared her throat. 

“Of course the invitation is still open. You and your friend have a seat at our table any time.”

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. YLN. I really appreciate it.”

“Where is Steve?” you asked, looking around. 

Your cousin was missing as well. Before anyone went to look, Steve entered from the hallway, looking a bit flustered.

“Needed to use the facilities.”

Your cousin entered from the kitchen with a too-bright smile. You narrowed your eyes at her as she entered with another dish. Before you could say anything, Bucky grabbed your hand to head to the dining room.

—-

“Can you pass the turkey? Y/N?”

You were busy clenching your thighs together under the table. Bucky hadn’t even touched you, but just the sight of his shoulders in the black cashmere sweater and of that tongue poking out to lick his lips periodically was causing your pussy to drip.

Not to mention the fact that the way your man was now charming the socks off your parents was the sexiest thing ever.

Bucky’s thighs spread and touched yours and you glanced at him.

“Y/N?”

Bucky was staring at you like he owned you as he rolled his sleeves up on the black sweater he was wearing. Those forearms got you even wetter. When you looked up at his piercing eyes and his ticked jaw, you were about to ask him to fuck you over the table. 

Those lips quirked up into a half-smirk, reading you like a book. You squirmed and licked your lips.

“What? Oh. Sorry, Ma…”

You passed the plate to your mother as Bucky continued to stare at you. His lips moved and your head felt swimmy. 

“Huh?”

Your cousin scoffed and Steve grumbled; your mother tittered and Bucky repeated himself.

“Pass the potatoes?”

Bucky’s voice was pure sex, and he may have well said, ‘suck my dick?’ because now you were ready to hit the floor. 

Lord, you needed to get it together.

You passed the dish to Bucky and the way the electricity jolted you when your fingers touched was about to set your clit on fire.

“Thanks, Frumoasă.”

“Now, what exactly does that mean, James? What are you calling my baby?”

Bucky chuckled and began to explain what the pet name meant and went on to talk about his childhood in Romania. While he engaged in genteel conversation with your parents, his hand dropped under the table, landing on your leg. He grasped it, firm and demanding. He pulled your leg away from the other, opening you wide for him.

Evil, evil man.

His hand moved higher, as you checked to see if anyone noticed anything. Your cousin looked sullen, moving the food around her plate while sneaking glances at Steve, who mirrored her countenance. 

You are about to ask a question as Bucky’s fingers move even higher, his thumb becoming dangerous. His fingers reached the edge of your panties and that’s when you realized that this man’s plan was to make you cum in front of your family. 

You coughed to cover a moan as you checked for your parents, who seemed to be listening intently to Bucky. 

He, your devil boyfriend, was smiling in their direction, but you knew that it was meant just for you. You decided to fight fire with fire and move your hand down to his thigh, fingernails scratching through his black slacks.

Bucky hesitated, then cleared his throat as he shot you a look. You smiled angelically at him and took a bite of food. He cleared his throat and went back to his story just as you found what you were looking for. 

The steel rod in Bucky Barnes’ pants.

Bucky dropped his fork and bent over toward you to get it.

“Behave, Frumoasă.”

“I will if you will.”

Bucky shook his head and straightened up, taking his hand away as your mother appeared at his side to trade his dirty fork with a shiny new one. Bucky smiled innocently yet kept his leg pressed up against yours. 

He turned your way again and whispered, “Later.”

It was one word, but it held volumes of filthy promise; so much so that your appetite changed instantly.

—--

Bucky was fitting right in with your loud, loving family. And you were loving it, because it allowed you to see that he was really trying to fit into your life. As dinner was ending, your mother extended another invitation. 

“Why don’t you and Steven stay here until you leave Sunday? You are staying until Sunday, aren’t you, James?” 

Your mother’s arched eyebrow was just like yours, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile. 

You looked between the two and then at Ray when both of your shook your heads; your mom loved James Barnes. You bit your lip to think of the harassment you would receive if you ever broke up.

Bucky looked at you when he was offered and he read your eyes. Something about being under the same roof with you 24/7 was intriguing to both of you.

“Yes, we are staying until Sunday.”

Bucky reached for your hand. You smiled wide at him.

“I’d love nothing more, Karen, but Steve and I have booked rooms at the Surf Song Inn…”

Steve caught Bucky’s glance and shrugged.

“Seems like staying here might be fun.”

You thought you saw your cousin make a face out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked more closely, her face was normal. But she wasn’t happy.

“All the rooms are taken!”

Karen cut her a look.

“My niece is right, but of the 8 bedrooms, we can make space. She can bunk with Y/N, and you and Steve can bunk together.”

“Fantastic,” your cousin intoned, sagging in her seat.

“Wonderful,” Steve deadpanned.

You just giggled nervously. This was going to be interesting.

—--

It was after midnight when you creeped downstairs. Every creak in the hallways made your heart race. Everyone was asleep, including your cousin/roomate, so there should have been nothing to worry about. But when you reached the bottom step of the basement stairs landing, you were grabbed and pulled against a hard chest and a hand clamped over your mouth.

“Gonna have to be quiet, Y/N.”

Bucky growled it against your ear.

“Think you can do that while I fuck this perfect fucking pussy?”

You whimpered in response and nodded your head.

“Good girl.”

But he didn’t release his hold on your face, instead his other hand traveled down your body and inside your sweats to cup your cunt.

“No panties, huh? ”

Your nipples were sharp, aching tips of nerve endings at this point. 

“Been hard as fuck, thinking about you in that dress today, Frumoasa. Love this body, your ass, these tits.”

He nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. 

“I love how wet you get for me, the smell of you, everything about you. Fuck!”

Bucky lifted his now wet fingers to his face to taste you, then slipped them into your mouth. You obediently accepted it, proceeding to wantonly suck your juices off Bucky’s fingers.

“Suchhhh a good, naughty little slut for me. In your parent’s house. You are mine, aren’t you?”

You whimpered again as you nodded vigorously, as his other hand squeezed the sides of your throat and his finger fucked into you again.

“You’re fucking soaked, sweetheart. Who did that to you? Wanna cum for me?”

“You Daddy. Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky moaned quietly at your furtive whisper and slipped three fingers inside you, fucking you expertly. You were almost lifted off of the ground.

“Love the sounds you make, Frumoasă, but you’ve got to stay quiet.”

He moved his hand back over your face, which ignited your blood even more.

“Just like that. Cum for me. But not a sound.”

You started shaking all over and Bucky sped up, unrelenting until he achieved his goal.

“Give it to me.”

You felt all of your joints lock up as you moaned and cursed behind his hand. Your lover held a bucking bronco in his arms as you rode over that crest and then came down again.

“Holy shit, Sweetheart. That was so hot.”

Bucky kissed the side of your neck and then whispered, “Ready for more?”

“Fuck yes…”

He walked you to the pool table and bent you over it, which allowed you to rest your head on your arms and watch him pull his sweats down so that his fat cock sprung free. You licked your lips as he started stroking.

“D’you see? I’m so gotdamn hard for you, Baby doll. Spread those perfect legs for me. Gotta get into that tight, wet, cunt.”

You did as you were told and went up on your tiptoes because of Bucky’s height.

“Ah, yessss. That fucking…archhhhhh…”

Bucky’s ardent whisper was in sync with the time it took him to plunge into your wetness in one stroke.

“So. Fucking. Big, Jamie!”

Bucky covered you with his torso as he leaned over you with steady, relentless strokes.

“It’s cause I know how warm, how tight, how fucking good this pussy is. Got so much cum for you Frumoasa….fuckkkkkk….”

He leaned back and bent his knees, causing his cock to brutally brush your g spot on the way to your cervix. This time you put your own hands over your mouth.

“Fucking right. You know what’s about to happen. I’m about to cum inside you so hard and so much. It’s gonna drip out of you.”

He leaned back over you again.

“What if I get you pregnant in your parent’s house?”

You choked on the possibility and your vision went white as your pussy clamped down around his cock. You hoped that no one heard the frantic sounds of skin slapping on skin as Bucky chased his high, and both of your muffled groans.

You practically passed out on the pool table as Bucky slumped into one of the theater chairs.

You opened your eyes, looked over at him and then burst out into giggles which you tried to stifle as you lead him to the gameroom restroom. You got as cleaned up as you could.

Bucky raided the bar refrigerator and handed you a water bottle. 

“This is for your thirst, ma’am.”

You rolled your eyes, but took the bottle.

“Fuck you, Bucky.”

“Hey! That’s the first time you’ve called me that.”

Bucky folded you into his arms, his grin blinding.

“Well, Now that you’ve met the folks, something’s a little different. I feel that we’ve turned a corner? I feel more at ease? Y’know?”

Bucky just stared and you looked down and shook your head.

“It sounds silly. All the things we’ve done.”

His fingers lifted your chin and allowed him to look deep into your eyes.

“Not silly at all. It’s what I’ve hoped for. That you would trust me completely, feel this comfortable with us. And it happened just in time.”

“Just in time for what?”

Bucky was now pulling you toward the stairs.

“Nevermind that now, time to get you back to your room before your mother gets the shotgun out.”

“But, Buck—”

Bucky cut you off with a finger to his lips and you shut your mouth. You were perturbed, but when he kissed you goodnight in front of your door, you kinda forgot about that a little bit.

Turns out your cousin was awake.

“You whore.”

You threw a pillow at her on the way to the bathroom, a giant grin on your face.

—--

The next morning, you rose early to make breakfast. As you descended the stairs, you found Steve in the living room on his laptop.

“Morning, Friend.”

“Morning.”

Steve practically growled it. You wondered who harshed his mellow. But before you got to ask, your parents came down the stairs, dressed to go out.

“Where are you two headed?”

Karen and Ray looked at each other. 

“We have a coffee date.”

You grinned at them.

“You two are so cute. Even after 25 years!”

The older couple shared another look. Bucky came downstairs, ready to go.

“Morning.”

He came over and gave you a chaste kiss on he forehead, as if he hadn’t delivered you immaculate backshots in the basement last night.

“Morning! Where are you going?”

You glanced at Steve who smirked and shrugged.

“I’m taking your mom and Ray to coffee.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your hip.

“And I’m not invited?”

“No. You are not.”

Bucky kissed your cheek this time and winked as he went out of the door. Ray grinned at you and your mother squeezed your shoulder.

“We won’t be long, honey.”

And just like that, your boyfriend stole your parents from you. You gaped at Steve who just stared at his laptop screen.

“What just happened?”

The voice came from behind you. Your cousin was descending the stairs, still in her night clothes.

“You know what just happened. Why would the man you’re dating want to talk to your parents alone? I think you know the answer.”

It hit you like a freight train. Bucky was going to ask your mom and Ray… Holy shit!

“I need some air.”

“I bet you do.”

You hurried to the back patio, gulping air to fend off a coming panic attack.

----

Please reblog if you enjoyed it!

[buckets-and-trees]

You Should've Seen Him

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.2k Summary: July 4, 2017. An Independence Day spent celebrating America - or at least its disgraced Captain. You skip the traditional fireworks to make some of your own. Takes place immediately after When He First Got Me

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, kissing, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, overstimulation, internal ejaculation, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: Back to Reader's POV for the series.

The last twenty-eight hours had been unreal. 

You had certainly never had this much sex with anyone before. 

You had never spent this much undivided time with only one person before either.

Not to mention that even though the man currently camped out between your legs was Steve Rogers, Captain America, he was still a stranger. 

Or was he?

You really didn’t know. 

There had certainly been moments when it was painfully clear you were two people who stumbled into each other and tumbled into bed later that night, but then the one-night stand stayed. 

He slept in your bed. (There had been sleep some of the time, though not much.) You made breakfast together. You said you probably better shower, he said he probably should join you. The sex there had led the two of you back to your bed, there had been some morning slumbering, then a late lunch. You watched a movie. Fucked. Talked. Kissed. Talked. Sexed. Showered. Talked. Ordered dinner. Been caught up in his kisses again. Ate dinner when it arrived. He had stripped you down again. 

And the man had been an enigma through it all. Stranger. Soft. Filthy. Sometimes so intense you were sure you were going to burn up from the way he looked at you, and at other times he seemed distracted, hollow, or somewhere else altogether. 

Part of you wanted to suggest he leave, but more of you wanted to know how long this unreal situation would carry on. 

And now, flat on your back, you were so thoroughly exhausted, every muscle limp, every coherent thought gone, asking him to leave was the last thing on your mind. You wanted the orgasm he was edging you towards, and you wanted sleep. All you could do was moan and whimper under the assault of his tongue and fingers to your cunt and clit. 

Your fingers tangled in Steve's hair, tugging gently as he worked you closer to the edge. Your thighs trembled around his head, heels digging into his broad back. The coil of pleasure wound tighter and tighter in your core with each expert swipe of his tongue.

"Steve," you gasped, "I'm so close…"

He hummed against you in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your overstimulated body. Two thick fingers pumped steadily in and out of your soaked entrance while his tongue flicked relentlessly over your swollen clit.

Your back arched off the bed as the tension finally snapped. Waves of ecstasy crashed over you, your walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers. Steve didn't let up, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, oversensitive mess.

Not so distantly, you could hear fireworks bursting for the Fourth of July at the city park, and their faint colored glow flashed across the night sky out your window. You had vaguely suggested going out to see the show earlier that afternoon. Now it was the furthest thing from your mind, and no regrets over missing them, not when this god of a man was worshipping and ruining you.

Steve moved up and over your body, his long, thick cock nudging against your entrance, making you whine weakly.

Steve's blue eyes locked onto yours, pupils dilated with lust. He braced himself on his forearms, caging you beneath his powerful body. The head of his cock continued to tease your sensitive folds, coating himself in your slickness.

"One more," he growled, voice thick with desire.

“Steve,” you moaned beneath him. How many times had he said those words? One more. Truly you’d lost count.

"I know you have one more in you."

Before you could protest, he sank into you in one smooth thrust. You cried out, still overwhelmed by the stretch and fullness of him. Your hands flew to his biceps, gripping the corded muscle as he began to move.

Steve set a punishing pace, hips snapping against yours. The obscene sound of skin slapping skin mingled with your breathless moans and his low grunts. His pubic bone ground against your clit with each thrust, sending wicked sparks of pleasure through your overstimulated body.

"Fuck, you feel amazing,” he panted against your neck. Then he rolled onto his back, still buried inside you, and coaxed you up, bracing you at the waist. “Ride me, sweet girl.”

You gasped as Steve lifted you effortlessly, settling you on top of him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you began to rock against him. The new angle had his thick cock hitting even deeper inside you.

"That's it," he encouraged, voice husky. "Take what I give you."

Despite your exhaustion, you found yourself chasing that peak again. You braced your hands on his broad chest, using the leverage to ride him harder. Steve's fingers dug into your flesh, sure to leave bruises as he helped lift you up and down his length.

Your thighs burned with the effort, but the coil of pleasure was tightening again in your core. Steve's eyes raked over your body hungrily as you moved above him. One of his hands left your hip to cup your breast, thumbing roughly over your nipple.

"So beautiful," he murmured.

Your head fell back as the familiar tension mounted in your core. It seemed impossible that your body could produce another orgasm after everything Steve had put you through, but it was also impossible that he was in your bed in the first place.

As the waves of the orgasm washed over you, your clenching pussy pulled Steve along with you, and he gave a shout as he bucked up into you. He emptied his seed into you, and you felt the warmth of it filling you up.

Steve gathered you back to his chest, and rolled the two of you to your sides, facing each other. He looked at you for a long moment, truly looked at you.

Throughout the day you had noticed him looking at you when he thought you were paying attention to other things, but you felt his eyes on you every time. It was a look that pierced you, and now was no different, but now was the first he’d been open and direct going about it.

Though your body was exhausted, the surge of his intense gaze stoked something in your chest, keeping you alert and attuned to him, and you pressed your chest closer to his. He placed the softest kiss to your head, then tucked you under his chin and tightened his arms around you.

And then the two of you talked. Not about anything important, merely quiet words exchanged in the dark, normal as anything though this was anything but normal. He was branded as a dangerous vigilante. He was dangerous, but to you not for the reasons some of the world had pinned to him, but because of the way you were pinned to him right now.

But it was only two nights. Nearly nothing, right?

Best sex of your life. A story to tell when you were old.

He held you until you drifted off to sleep, mid-story, his warmth and his soft voice lulling you into deep, restful bliss.

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

NEXT ↠ September 28, 2017: Pull the String read more Exiled Nomad Series

[amethystarachnid]

Hey rose! I hope you're doing alright! I absolutely adore your Tony stark fics!! I hope you'd write one for Steve Rogers or loki. Can you write something with any one of them where their partner (reader) is very emotional, like cries at tv shows and books, can never NOT tear up when any of them say anything romantic or meaningful. And as much as they don't want their partner to cry, they feel really appreciated. Just loads of fluff! Thank you!<3🩵

P.s. ofc feel free to change or add anything you fell like. Appreciate it!

HAPPY TEARS

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓ★ Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: You have always been the sensitive type, crying over movies and every sweet thing Steve did for you, and that's one of the reasons he loves you so much but, at the same it, it gets him worried for your possible reaction to the question that has been in his mind for sometime now.

ᯓ★ Word count: 8K

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing just pure fluff and just like a few words about a passionate night

ᯓ★ As always, since reader's gender isn't specified in the ask I'll write it as fem!reader because I'm a girl and it's what I'm more used to write, but if you want it to be with another gender are sure to specify it in your ask and I'll write it! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, warm and inviting. It greets you before you even open your eyes, a little luxury of the life you’ve built together. Your sleepy mind pieces together the familiar sounds of Steve moving around the kitchen—the soft clink of the coffee pot returning to its base, the gentle scrape of a plate across the counter.

He’s making breakfast.

The thought alone tugs at your heart. After seven years together, Steve Rogers still finds a way to make every morning feel special, no matter how ordinary. You pull the blanket tighter around you and close your eyes for a moment, letting the sound of his hums blend with the noise of the city beyond the window. It’s moments like these, the quiet ones, that remind you just how deeply you’re loved.

By the time you shuffle into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, he’s plating up pancakes. He’s not wearing a shirt, just his gray sweatpants sitting low on his hips, and his blond hair is damp and tousled like he’s already gone for a run. It’s infuriating how good he looks, even at this hour.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, flashing you that boyish smile, the one that makes your stomach flip even now.

You give him a sleepy grin in return, padding toward him on bare feet. His hand automatically finds the small of your back as you lean into him, your cheek pressing against his chest. For a moment, there’s no one else in the world but the two of you.

“You didn’t have to get up so early,” you mumble against his skin, your voice still thick with sleep.

“You were out like a light,” he says, his hand running gently up and down your spine. “Figured I’d let you sleep in a little.” His voice is low, affectionate, and entirely too effective at making your heart melt.

When you pull back, he tips your chin up with one finger, his blue eyes scanning your face like it’s the first time he’s seen you. “Coffee?” he asks, already stepping away to grab your favorite mug from the counter.

You watch him pour the coffee, a soft smile playing on your lips. He’s careful, deliberate, like he’s handling something precious. And you suppose, in his eyes, he is.

As he hands you the mug, his fingers brush yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. The gesture is small but thoughtful, the way so many of his gestures are. Seven years, and he still makes you feel like you’re worth all the time and effort in the world.

The first sip of coffee is heavenly, and you sigh contentedly as you sink into one of the kitchen chairs. Steve sits across from you, his long legs stretching out under the table, and slides a plate of pancakes in your direction. “Banana chocolate chip,” he says. “Thought you might want something sweet today.”

Your eyes go wide. “You made these just for me?”

His laugh is soft and teasing. “Who else would I make them for?”

Your chest tightens at the sincerity in his voice, and before you can stop it, tears start to blur your vision.

Steve freezes mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air. “Hey,” he says gently, already moving his chair closer to yours. “What’s wrong?” His hand lands lightly on your knee, his thumb stroking small circles there.

You shake your head, letting out a watery laugh. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…” You glance down at the pancakes, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions. “You made me pancakes.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, clearly not understanding why that’s enough to turn you into a mess. “And?”

“And you made them the way I like them,” you sniff, wiping at your eyes. “With the chocolate chips on top, not mixed in, because you know I like the crunch.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you look up at him, feeling ridiculous for crying over pancakes. “You’re too good to me.”

His expression softens instantly, a mix of affection and bemusement. He moves his chair even closer, until his knees bump yours. “Sweetheart,” he says, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs catching the stray tears. “It’s just pancakes.”

“No, it’s not,” you insist, your voice a little shaky. “It’s… it’s that you always think of these little things. You always go out of your way to make me happy.” You gesture toward the plate, then to him. “Even after all this time, you still do stuff like this.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression unreadable. Then he smiles, leaning in to press his lips softly against your forehead. “I hope you know I don’t do any of this because I feel like I have to,” he murmurs. “I do it because I want to. Because seeing you happy is worth it. Every single time.”

His words are a balm, soothing the tight ache in your chest, and you let out a shaky laugh. “Well, congratulations,” you say, trying for levity. “You made me cry before breakfast again.”

“Again?” he echoes, chuckling softly. “I’m starting to think it’s my superpower.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, even as you swipe at your damp cheeks. “You’d give Tony a run for his money.”

“I’ll let him know,” Steve says with a wink, sliding the plate closer to you. “Now eat your pancakes before they get cold.”

You roll your eyes, but the teasing warmth in his tone makes you reach for your fork. The first bite is everything you expected—soft, sweet, and rich with the perfect balance of flavors. You moan appreciatively, and Steve grins at the sound, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Good?” he asks, resting his chin on one hand as he watches you.

“Good,” you say around a mouthful of pancake, the tension in your chest easing with every bite.

For a while, the two of you eat in companionable silence, the kind that only comes from years of knowing and loving each other. Steve tells you about his run—how Sam gave him grief for being late to their meeting spot, how the park was unusually crowded this morning—and you listen with a soft smile, chiming in occasionally with little jokes or questions.

But even as the conversation flows, you can see the way Steve keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, like he’s still trying to puzzle you out. He’s always been like this, endlessly patient, endlessly curious about the way your mind works.

Finally, he sets his fork down and leans back in his chair, studying you. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how sensitive you are.”

You pause mid-bite, your fork hovering just shy of your lips. “Is that a bad thing?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Not at all,” he says quickly, his expression earnest. “I mean it in the best way. You feel everything so deeply, and… I don’t know. It amazes me, I guess. How you can look at something as simple as pancakes and see all the love behind it.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, and you glance down at your plate. “I don’t mean to make a big deal out of things,” you mumble. “I just… I can’t help it. When you do something sweet, it gets to me.”

He reaches across the table, his hand covering yours. “I don’t want you to help it,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I love that about you. I love that you cry over movies and surprise gifts and little things like pancakes. It reminds me to slow down and appreciate those things too.”

You blink at him, your throat tightening all over again. “You mean that?”

“Every word,” he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “So, if you feel like crying over pancakes or anything else, go ahead. I’ll be here to catch the tears.”

It’s too much—his words, his presence, the unshakable love in his eyes. Before you can stop yourself, you’re crying again, this time out of sheer gratitude. Steve just laughs softly and moves to your side, pulling you into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you,” you whisper against his chest, your voice trembling.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the top of your head. “More than anything.”

Friday nights at the Tower are sacred—a time to unwind, laugh, and for Tony Stark to force his eclectic taste in movies on the rest of the Avengers. Tonight, the team has assembled in the massive home theater, complete with a state-of-the-art sound system, plush recliners, and enough snacks to sustain a small army.

You’re curled up next to Steve on one of the oversized couches, your legs tucked beneath you and your head leaning on his shoulder. His arm is draped casually around you, and he’s absently playing with the ends of your hair as Tony prowls the front of the room, remote in hand, his enthusiasm palpable.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tony announces, dramatically pointing the remote like it’s a scepter, “tonight’s feature presentation is the cinematic masterpiece, Titanic.”

Groans ripple through the group.

“Tony, again?” Natasha asks, leaning back in her seat with a smirk. “You have a billion-dollar movie collection, and you keep picking this one.”

“It’s called having taste, Romanoff,” Tony retorts, tossing her a packet of Red Vines. “Some of us recognize greatness when we see it. This movie has it all: romance, drama, social commentary, and the single greatest piece of floating debris in cinematic history.”

“It’s a door,” Clint says flatly.

“It’s art,” Tony snaps back, dramatically clutching his chest like he’s been wounded.

Steve chuckles under his breath, squeezing your shoulder gently. “You okay with this one?” he asks, his voice low and warm. “We can always sneak out and watch something else.”

You shake your head, giving him a small, teary smile. “No, it’s fine. I just… I’m probably going to cry.”

“I know,” he says softly, brushing a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay.”

The others are still bickering as the lights dim and the iconic opening notes of James Horner’s score fill the room. You take a deep breath, already bracing yourself. You’ve seen Titanic before—enough times to know that you’re in for an emotional ride—but somehow, the anticipation makes it worse.

It doesn’t take long. By the time Rose boards the ship and gazes out at the ocean, your eyes are already brimming with tears. The sheer scale of the doomed ship, the haunting foreshadowing—it all hits you at once.

“Uh, are you okay?” Bruce whispers from the seat next to you, looking genuinely concerned.

“Yeah,” you manage, your voice thick. “I just… I know what’s going to happen.”

Steve, unfazed, reaches into the bowl of popcorn and pops a kernel into his mouth. “This is normal,” he explains casually to Bruce, his tone as calm as if he were describing the weather. “She gets emotional during movies. It’s just how she is.”

Bruce nods slowly, his brow furrowing like he’s trying to understand. “But… it’s barely started.”

“She’s a big feeler,” Steve says with a shrug, pulling you a little closer as your sniffles grow louder.

“Is someone crying already?” Tony hisses from the front row, twisting around to squint into the dim light. When his eyes land on you, he raises an eyebrow. “We haven’t even hit the iceberg. You know that, right?”

“She knows,” Steve replies evenly, not even looking up from the screen. He grabs a tissue from the box he always keeps nearby during movie nights—specifically for you—and hands it to you without missing a beat.

Tony’s jaw drops. “You brought tissues specifically for this?”

“Of course,” Steve says, as though it’s obvious. “It happens every time.”

The group exchanges looks, equal parts bewildered and amused, but Steve just leans down to kiss the top of your head. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “Just let it out.”

“Wow,” Clint says, his tone dripping with mock admiration. “You’re a braver man than I am, Rogers.”

The movie marches on, each scene tugging at your heartstrings with surgical precision. Jack and Rose meet. They fall in love. They dance in third class and spit off the back of the ship. By the time they’re standing on the prow, their arms spread wide as the wind rushes around them, you’re openly sobbing into Steve’s chest.

“Am I supposed to do something?” Bruce whispers, looking helplessly at Steve.

“Nope,” Steve replies, rubbing slow circles on your back. “Just let her cry. She’ll feel better afterward.”

“I’m not sure that’s how crying works,” Bruce mutters, but he stays quiet, occasionally passing you another tissue.

Tony, meanwhile, is watching you with thinly veiled amusement. “I’ve gotta ask,” he says during a quieter moment, “do you cry at every movie, or is this one just special?”

“Not every movie,” Steve says, his lips twitching into a small smile. “But most of them. Especially the ones with tragic endings.”

“That’s an understatement,” Natasha says dryly. “Remember Finding Nemo?”

Clint snorts. “Oh, that was legendary. We weren’t even five minutes in, and she was already bawling over the mom dying.”

Tony looks scandalized. “Finding Nemo? That’s a kids’ movie!”

“And yet…” Clint gestures toward you, now hiccupping softly as Jack and Rose sneak into the cargo hold for their iconic steamy scene.

“She just feels things deeply,” Steve says, his voice laced with affection. “It’s one of the things I love about her.”

Tony groans dramatically, throwing a handful of popcorn in Steve’s direction. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, Rogers. Stop being so disgustingly wholesome.”

“Not my fault you guys don’t bring tissues for your girlfriends,” Steve shoots back, his smirk widening.

By the time the ship hits the iceberg, the mood in the room has shifted. Even Tony has gone quiet, though he’s clearly trying to maintain his composure. You, on the other hand, are a wreck. The sight of the passengers scrambling for lifeboats, the haunting wails of the violinists playing “Nearer My God to Thee”—it’s too much.

Your sobs reach a crescendo as Jack and Rose cling to each other in the freezing water, their breaths ragged and visible in the frigid air. Steve adjusts his hold on you, tucking your head under his chin and murmuring soft reassurances.

“I’ll never let go, Jack!” Rose cries, her voice breaking.

You lose it completely, clutching at Steve’s shirt as though your own heart is breaking. Steve strokes your hair, his voice calm and steady. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Tony, meanwhile, is blinking rapidly, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “What?” he says defensively when Clint raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s allergies. Big-screen projectors always make my eyes water.”

Natasha snickers. “Sure they do.”

As the credits roll, you’re still hiccupping softly, your face buried in Steve’s chest. He doesn’t seem to mind, his hand moving in a soothing rhythm along your back.

“Okay, that was… intense,” Bruce says, looking around the room like he’s not sure what just happened.

“I’m pretty sure I lost three pounds in tears,” Clint adds, tossing an empty box of tissues onto the table. “Do we have a hydration station somewhere?”

Tony sniffs loudly and stands, stretching his arms overhead. “Well, folks, that’s how you do cinema. Epic. Heartbreaking. Unforgettable.”

“Admit it, you cried,” Natasha says, smirking at him.

“I did no such thing,” Tony replies, looking deeply offended. “Unlike some people…” He gestures dramatically toward you, still snuggled against Steve.

“Hey,” Steve says with a shrug, his tone as casual as ever. “She’s passionate. It’s one of the reasons I love her.”

“You’re an actual saint,” Clint mutters, shaking his head.

You finally lift your head, your cheeks streaked with tears but your eyes shining with gratitude. “Thanks for letting me cry all over you,” you say softly to Steve, your voice still wobbly.

“Anytime,” he replies, his smile warm and unwavering. “You know I’ve got you.”

Tony groans loudly, throwing his hands in the air. “And this,” he says, gesturing wildly at the two of you, “is why I’m never inviting you to movie night again. You two are too cute, and it’s ruining the vibe.”

“Tony, you’re just mad because you cried,” Natasha quips.

“I did not cry!” Tony protests, his voice rising an octave.

Bruce chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “Whatever you say, Tony.”

As the group dissolves into laughter, Steve leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You okay now?” he asks, his voice just for you.

You nod, your heart swelling with love for the man who always makes space for your emotions, no matter how messy they are. “I am,” you whisper. “Thanks to you.”

“Good,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “Because we’re definitely sneaking out before Tony picks another three-hour tearjerker.”

You laugh through the last of your sniffles, feeling safe and loved in his arms. As far as you’re concerned, there’s no better way to end a movie night.

After the emotional rollercoaster of Titanic, the Avengers agree on one thing: no more movies that could make you cry. Steve, ever the supportive boyfriend, gently suggests a comedy for the next round, earning nods from everyone in the room. Even Tony, slightly miffed from being accused (rightfully) of shedding a tear during Rose’s tearful farewell to Jack, throws in his agreement.

“Alright, team,” Tony announces, striding to the movie library with a flourish. “Since apparently, I’ve been overly ambitious in my cinematic choices, I’ll keep it light. Comedy. Laughs. Penguins falling over or something. Nobody cries at penguins, right?”

“Right,” you say with an encouraging smile, though your earlier sob session has left your voice hoarse.

Steve wraps an arm around your shoulder, his lips brushing your temple. “You sure you’re up for another movie?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I’m good. Something funny sounds perfect.”

The new movie is a slapstick comedy involving ridiculous pratfalls, a few over-the-top explosions (Tony’s insistence), and a hilarious subplot about a cat that keeps stealing its owner’s Wi-Fi password. It’s everything you need to decompress from the earlier emotional onslaught, and soon the room is filled with the sound of laughter.

Even Steve, who isn’t always in sync with modern humor, is chuckling at the absurd antics on screen. You’re curled up next to him, giggling into his shoulder as a character accidentally sets his kitchen on fire trying to make toast. Across the room, Tony and Clint are reenacting a particularly ridiculous dance scene, complete with exaggerated hip thrusts.

“See?” Tony says triumphantly, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. “This is how you do a movie night. Fun! Light! No tears.”

Natasha arches an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed by his theatrics. “Give it time, Stark. We’re not done yet.”

Hours later, after the comedy has ended and a few rounds of drinks have been poured, Tony somehow stumbles upon a nature documentary titled The Journey of Life. The cover features an adorable penguin waddling across a snowy landscape, and Tony declares it “perfect background noise.”

“This,” he slurs slightly, pointing at the screen, “is what we need. Penguins. Cute, waddling, ice-sliding penguins. No emotions. Just vibes.”

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Bruce asks cautiously, but Tony is already pressing play, plopping down on the couch with a fresh drink in hand.

Steve looks at you, his eyebrow raised in question. “You okay with this?”

“It’s just penguins,” you reply with a shrug, snuggling into his side. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

At first, it’s exactly what Tony promised. The documentary opens with breathtaking shots of snowy mountains and vast, icy plains. The narrator’s soothing British accent describes the challenges of survival in the harsh Antarctic environment as a colony of emperor penguins waddles across the frozen landscape.

“Oh my god, look at them!” you exclaim, your eyes lighting up. “They’re so cute!”

“They’re ridiculous,” Tony says with a chuckle. “Like tiny, overdressed toddlers. I love them.”

Everyone relaxes, lulled by the majestic scenery and the gentle cadence of the narrator’s voice. Even Steve seems to be enjoying himself, his hand absentmindedly stroking your back as you watch the penguins slide on their bellies and huddle together for warmth.

It starts with a single penguin chick—fluffy, wide-eyed, and impossibly adorable. It stumbles away from the group, its tiny feet slipping on the ice as it struggles to keep up with its parents. The narrator explains, in heartbreakingly calm tones, that not every chick survives the journey to the feeding grounds.

“No,” you whisper, your hand flying to your mouth as the camera zooms in on the chick’s desperate waddling. “No, no, no. Someone help him!”

“It’s nature,” Clint says uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. “It happens.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to watch it!” Tony snaps, his earlier bravado evaporating. His face is red, and he’s gripping his whiskey glass a little too tightly.

Steve sighs, pulling you closer as your sniffles begin. “It’s just a documentary, sweetheart. It’s the circle of life.”

“Circle of life my ass,” Tony grumbles, his voice thick. “That chick deserves better.”

As the chick stumbles farther away, your tears begin in earnest. “He’s lost! He’s so little! Steve, he’s not going to make it, is he?”

Steve pats your back, his voice soft but resigned. “Probably not, sweetheart.”

“Why are we watching this?” Tony demands, pointing an accusatory finger at Bruce. “You should’ve stopped me! You’re the smart one!”

“I didn’t know it was going to get sad!” Bruce protests, throwing up his hands. “It’s a documentary about penguins!”

By the time the chick’s fate is sealed (you can’t even bring yourself to look as the narrator solemnly declares that it’s “a tragic but essential part of the ecosystem”), you and Tony are both a mess. You’re clutching Steve’s shirt, sobbing into his chest, while Tony sniffles loudly into his empty glass.

“It’s not fair,” you cry, your voice muffled. “He was just a baby!”

“I know,” Tony says, his voice cracking. “He didn’t even get a chance! He deserved a chance!” He gestures wildly at the screen. “Why didn’t they save him? Someone could’ve—”

“It’s a documentary,” Natasha interrupts dryly, though even she looks mildly uncomfortable. “No one’s interfering.”

“That’s barbaric,” Tony declares, wiping at his eyes. “I’m calling PETA.”

Steve kisses the top of your head, his hand running soothingly along your back. “You want to stop watching?” he offers quietly.

“No,” you hiccup, though you’re clearly still devastated. “I need to see if the others are okay.”

The documentary continues, alternating between moments of lighthearted penguin antics and devastating tragedies. Each time something sad happens, you and Tony are reduced to tears, much to the bemusement of the rest of the team.

By the end of the film, when the surviving penguins finally reach their feeding grounds and triumphantly slide into the water, you and Tony are clinging to each other like war survivors.

“That was horrific,” Tony declares, dabbing at his eyes with a napkin. “Whoever made that documentary is a monster. I need a drink.”

“You’ve had several drinks,” Natasha points out, rolling her eyes.

“Not enough to erase that from my memory,” Tony replies dramatically. He glances at you, his expression softening slightly. “You okay, cry queen?”

You manage a shaky smile. “I think so. That was just… a lot.”

Steve, ever your rock, kisses your temple and pulls you close. “I don’t think we’ll be watching documentaries again anytime soon,” he murmurs.

“Seconded,” Tony says, raising his glass. “To no more emotional devastation disguised as education. Who’s with me?”

“Agreed,” Clint says, shaking his head. “No more penguins. Ever.”

As the team dissolves into laughter and lighthearted teasing, you snuggle deeper into Steve’s arms, feeling safe despite the emotional rollercoaster. No matter how many tears you shed — or how often Tony joins you — you know you’ll always have the world’s most patient boyfriend by your side.

The tower is unusually quiet after the emotional whirlwind of the movie night. The penguins have long since waddled off the screen, the room cleaned up from the chaos of snack wrappers and spilled drinks. You’re asleep now, curled up on the couch with your head resting in Steve’s lap, the faint remnants of tears drying on your cheeks.

The others linger, nursing drinks or settling into the comfortable post-movie quiet. Steve’s hand moves gently over your hair, his touch instinctive and protective as he listens to the idle conversation around him.

“Poor thing,” Natasha says softly, nodding toward you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cry so much over a documentary.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint retorts, jerking a thumb at Tony. “He went through an entire roll of tissues.”

Tony, leaning back in his chair with his drink in hand, glares. “It’s called empathy, Barton. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Empathy,” Natasha repeats dryly, raising an eyebrow. “Or maybe whiskey?”

“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Tony mutters, waving her off. His gaze flicks toward you, then back to Steve. “You’ve got the patience of a saint, Rogers. How do you do it?”

Steve chuckles softly, looking down at you with a fondness so deep it’s almost tangible. “I love her,” he says simply, his voice quiet but steady. “She feels everything so deeply, and yeah, that means a lot of tears, but it’s also what makes her so special. She’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Aww,” Clint says, his tone mocking but not unkind. “Cap’s going all gooey on us.”

Steve shakes his head with a smile, but there’s something thoughtful in his expression, something weighing on him. He glances at the team, then back at you, as if debating whether to say more. Finally, after a moment’s hesitation, he clears his throat.

“There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to talk to you all about,” he begins, his voice low. “I want to ask her to marry me.”

The room goes still. Natasha blinks, her eyebrows lifting slightly. Bruce, who’s been quietly sipping his tea, looks up with a small, surprised smile. Tony leans forward, suddenly all ears.

“Well, that’s not shocking,” Clint says, breaking the silence. “You’ve been together, what, seven years? We were wondering when you were going to pop the question.”

Steve nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it’s been a while. I’ve known for a long time that she’s the one. But…” He hesitates, his eyes dropping to your sleeping form. His hand brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Bruce asks gently.

Steve lets out a soft sigh, his brow furrowing. “Her reaction. She’s so sensitive, and she gets overwhelmed easily. What if I ask and she has a panic attack? Or starts crying so much she can’t even answer me? I just… I don’t want to put her through that.”

Tony snorts. “You’re worried she’s going to cry? Newsflash, Rogers: she cries when you bring her coffee in bed. This is a proposal, man. Of course she’s going to cry.”

“Tony,” Natasha says, shooting him a warning look. “He’s being serious.”

“I am serious,” Tony retorts. “Look, she’s emotional, yeah, but she’s not fragile. She loves you, Rogers. That’s the whole point. She’s not going to freak out because you ask her to marry her—well, not in a bad way, at least.”

Steve looks unconvinced. “I know she loves me,” he says quietly. “But I also know how overwhelming things can be for her. I don’t want to put her in a position where she feels pressured or out of control.”

Natasha tilts her head, studying him with that sharp, analytical gaze of hers. “So don’t make it overwhelming,” she says simply. “You don’t have to plan some elaborate proposal. Just talk to her. Make it quiet, intimate. Something that feels safe.”

“Yeah,” Bruce adds, his tone thoughtful. “She’s not the kind of person who needs a big show, is she? She’d probably appreciate something small, just the two of you.”

Steve nods slowly, his mind working through their words. “You’re right. She doesn’t like big gestures. She always says the little things matter more to her.”

“Exactly,” Natasha says. “So make it one of those little things. Something simple but meaningful.”

Tony, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet for the past minute, suddenly speaks up. “And if she does cry,” he says, his voice unusually soft, “it’s not because she’s scared or upset. It’s because she loves you so much she doesn’t know how else to show it.”

The room falls silent at that, the weight of Tony’s words settling over them. Steve looks around at his teammates—his family—and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Thanks,” he says softly. “I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” Natasha replies, a rare smile tugging at her lips.

The apartment is quiet, the kind of warm, serene quiet that feels like a cocoon against the bustling world outside. It’s just the two of you tonight, the city’s hum dimmed by the thick curtains and the steady rhythm of the life you’ve built together. Dinner was simple but perfect—Steve made your favorite meal, and you couldn’t stop laughing when he got flour on his nose halfway through baking the dessert. Now, the dishes are done, the candles still flicker softly on the dining table, and the scent of warm vanilla lingers in the air.

Steve’s been acting a little off all evening. Not in a bad way, but in that telltale way that you’ve come to recognize over the years. He’s quieter than usual, thoughtful, his blue eyes darting to you and away as though he’s trying to solve a puzzle in his head. You’ve asked him twice if everything’s okay, and both times he’s smiled at you and said, “Of course,” before steering the conversation somewhere else.

You’re curled up on the couch now, a blanket draped over your lap as you sip the last of your wine. Steve sits beside you, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder. His gaze lingers on you, soft and reverent, like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at.

“Steve,” you say, turning to him with a playful smile. “You’re staring.”

“Am I?” he replies, though he doesn’t look away. His lips curve into that small, lopsided grin you adore, and your heart does its familiar flip-flop in your chest.

“Yes, you are,” you tease, nudging his leg with your foot. “What’s on your mind?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. His hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and deliberate, as though he’s memorizing the shape of you. Then he leans back slightly, his hand slipping into his pocket.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” he says, his voice calm but carrying a weight that makes your stomach flutter.

Your brows knit together as you sit up straighter. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” he says softly, and there’s a flicker of nervousness in his eyes now, a vulnerability that catches you off guard. He shifts, moving from the couch to kneel in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees.

Your heart skips. “Steve—”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, velvet box. The sight of it steals the breath from your lungs, and you clasp a hand over your mouth as tears instantly pool in your eyes.

“I know how you’re feeling right now,” Steve says gently, his voice steady despite the faint blush creeping up his neck. “And I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay?”

You try—really, you do—but the tears are already spilling over, and a choked laugh escapes you as you press your fingers to your lips. Steve smiles, his thumb brushing over your knee.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of affection. He opens the box, revealing a stunningly simple yet beautiful ring���a delicate gold band with a single, glittering diamond. It’s understated and timeless, just like him, and it’s so perfect you can barely breathe.

“Y/N,” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve loved you for seven years. From the first moment we met, I knew there was something about you, something I couldn’t let go of. You’ve taught me what it means to live in the present, to love with my whole heart, and to find joy in the little things.”

Your tears are flowing freely now, and you’re shaking your head as though you can’t believe what’s happening. Steve chuckles softly, his own eyes glistening.

“You’ve stood by me through everything,” he continues. “Through battles, through doubts, through all the times I’ve struggled to figure out where I fit in this world. You’ve always been my home, my safe place. And I can’t imagine spending another day without you by my side.”

He pauses, his voice catching slightly, and for a moment, you see a flicker of vulnerability in his expression. “I know how deeply you feel things, and I know this might be overwhelming for you. But I promise, sweetheart, you don’t have to say anything right away. I just need you to know how much I love you.”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “So, Y/N,” he says, his voice trembling just the tiniest bit. “Will you marry me?”

The question lands like a thunderclap in your chest. You’re crying so hard now that you can barely see him through the blur of your tears. You try to speak, to form words, but they come out in a jumble of half-sobs and gasps.

“Steve—oh my god—I—” You press your hands to your cheeks, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through you. “I—I don’t—”

Steve waits patiently, his hands still steady on your knees, his expression soft and understanding. “Take your time, sweetheart,” he says quietly.

“I love you,” you finally manage to choke out, your voice trembling. “So much. You don’t even know—I just—”

Steve smiles, the kind of smile that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. “I think I have an idea,” he says softly.

You laugh through your tears, shaking your head as you try to pull yourself together. “Yes,” you finally gasp, your voice breaking on the word. “Yes, Steve. Of course, yes.”

His breath leaves him in a rush, and his smile widens into something radiant as he slips the ring from the box and gently slides it onto your finger. It fits perfectly, and you stare at it through your tears, your heart bursting with so much love you think you might actually explode.

“I love you,” Steve says, his voice thick with emotion as he pulls you into his arms. You cling to him, your face buried in his shoulder as you sob into his shirt. He holds you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped securely around your waist.

“I love you too,” you whisper against his neck, your voice muffled and shaky. “So much. I can’t believe this is real.”

“It’s real,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Always.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your tears still streaming but your smile brighter than the stars. “You’re too good to me,” you say, your voice trembling. “I don’t deserve you.”

Steve shakes his head, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You deserve the world, Y/N,” he says simply. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to give it to you.”

You laugh again, a soft, breathless sound, and Steve leans in to kiss you, his lips gentle but full of promise. It’s the kind of kiss that makes the world fall away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the kind of love that feels eternal.

When you finally pull apart, you rest your forehead against his, your hands cupping his face as you whisper, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Steve’s smile is soft, his eyes shining with unspoken emotion. “Me neither,” he says quietly. “Me neither.”

The morning sun streams through the windows, bathing the room in a golden light that feels impossibly warm and perfect. You stir under the rumpled sheets, the fabric soft against your bare skin, and the memories of the night before come rushing back. It had started tender, Steve’s hands moving over you with a reverence that left you breathless. But the sweetness had given way to something deeper, more passionate—an expression of love so consuming that it had left you both utterly undone.

Beside you, Steve shifts, his arm tightening around your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Good morning, my beautiful bride-to-be,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep and full of affection.

Your heart clenches immediately, and before you can stop yourself, tears well up in your eyes. You press your hands to your face, a choked laugh escaping as you try—and fail—to keep it together.

“Oh no,” Steve says with a chuckle, propping himself up on one elbow. “I didn’t even say anything that emotional this time.”

“You called me your bride-to-be,” you manage to say through your tears, your voice trembling with joy. “How am I supposed to handle that, Steve?”

He laughs softly, his hand brushing over your hair as he pulls you closer. “Sweetheart, if this is how you’re going to react every time I call you that, I’m in trouble. Because I plan on saying it a lot.”

You let out a watery laugh, burying your face in his chest. His skin is warm and familiar, and his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek feels like home. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I don’t mean to cry so much. I’m just… so happy.”

“I know,” he says gently, his fingers trailing soothingly down your back. “And I love you for it.”

After a while, your tears subside, and you lift your head to meet his gaze. His blue eyes are soft and full of love, and the way he’s looking at you makes your breath catch. “Good morning,” you say softly, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “My handsome fiancé.”

His grin widens at your words, and he leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet. “I like the sound of that,” he says against your lips. “Fiancé. And soon, husband.”

You feel your cheeks heat, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I can’t believe this is real,” you say quietly, tracing a finger along his jaw. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and it’ll all be a dream.”

“It’s real,” Steve assures you, his tone steady and full of certainty. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

The moment stretches between you, filled with a quiet, glowing warmth that feels too perfect to be real. But it is real, and as you lie there in his arms, you can’t imagine anything more perfect.

Eventually, Steve glances at the clock and sighs. “We should probably get up,” he says reluctantly. “The others are going to want to know.”

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. “Do we have to tell them today? Can’t we just stay here a little longer?”

Steve laughs, pulling the blanket off of you just enough to expose your shoulder. “As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, they’re going to find out eventually. Might as well tell them now before Tony starts making bets.”

You sigh dramatically but can’t help smiling as you roll over to look at him. “Fine,” you say, your tone mock-annoyed. “But if I start crying again, it’s your fault.”

“I’ll take full responsibility,” he promises, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

An hour later, you’re dressed and ready, though your face is still a little puffy from all the happy tears. Steve holds your hand as you step into the elevator, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your skin. You feel nervous for some reason, though you know the team will be thrilled. It’s just that sharing something so personal, so precious, feels a little daunting.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, squeezing your hand. “It’s going to be fine. They love you.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as the elevator doors slide open to reveal the common room. The Avengers are scattered around the space, Tony sprawled on the couch with a cup of coffee, Natasha and Clint engaged in what looks like a very serious game of chess, and Bruce flipping through a book at the kitchen counter. Thor is munching on a Pop-Tart, his expression as cheerful as ever, while Sam lounges in a nearby chair, scrolling through his phone.

Tony is the first to notice you. “Well, well,” he says, setting his coffee down and smirking. “If it isn’t our golden couple. What’s with the glowing faces? Did Rogers finally tell you about his collection of antique baseball cards?”

“Tony,” Natasha says without looking up from the chessboard, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Let them talk.”

Steve clears his throat, his hand still firmly holding yours. “Actually,” he begins, glancing at you with a small, encouraging smile. “We have some news.”

At that, everyone looks up, their interest piqued. Clint leans back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “This should be good.”

You feel your cheeks heat under their collective gaze, but Steve’s presence beside you keeps you grounded. “We’re engaged,” you blurt out, unable to keep the words in any longer. “Steve proposed last night.”

The room erupts. Natasha and Bruce smile warmly, their congratulations genuine and heartfelt. Thor lets out a booming laugh and claps Steve on the back so hard he nearly stumbles. Sam grins, shaking his head as he mutters, “About time.” Clint whistles, looking impressed, while Tony raises his coffee mug in a mock toast.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tony says, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Congrats, lovebirds. I guess this means I need to start planning the bachelor party.”

Steve groans, and you laugh despite yourself, leaning into his side as the team continues to shower you with affection and teasing remarks. It’s chaotic and overwhelming, but it’s also full of love, and as you look around the room, you realize just how lucky you are to have this family.

Later, when things have settled down, Steve pulls you aside, his hand resting lightly on your waist. “See?” he says softly, his blue eyes twinkling. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You smile up at him, your heart full to bursting. “No,” you admit. “It wasn’t bad at all.”

He leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that makes your knees weak. “I love you, future Mrs. Rogers,” he murmurs, and once again, you find yourself wiping away happy tears.

The day has arrived. Months of planning, fittings, tastings, and a thousand little decisions have all led to this moment, and yet, standing in the bridal suite of the church, you feel like you might burst into tears before you even set foot down the aisle.

You’re wearing the dress you spent weeks obsessing over. It fits like a dream, a shimmering vision of white and lace that flows around you like a fairytale. Natasha, your bridesmaid—and perhaps the most patient person you’ve ever met—stands beside you, hands on your shoulders, trying to keep you from falling apart.

“Y/N,” she says firmly, her green eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “You’ve got to hold it together. You’re going to ruin your makeup if you start crying now.”

“I know, I know,” you say, fanning your face with trembling hands as you try to will away the tears. “It’s just… everything’s so perfect, and I’m so happy, and—oh my god, Nat, what if I trip?”

“You’re not going to trip,” she says, her voice calm but decisive. “You’ve practiced this. You’re wearing sensible heels. You’ve got Tony holding onto you like a lifeline. You’ll be fine.”

At the mention of Tony, you glance toward the door, where he’s pacing just outside. Your “man of honor” had insisted on walking you down the aisle, and though he’d tried to play it cool, you could see the emotion brimming behind his bravado. He’d barely been able to get through the rehearsal without tearing up, and now you’re both in danger of becoming sobbing messes before the ceremony even begins.

“I saw him wiping his eyes earlier,” you say with a sniffle, a hint of a laugh breaking through. “If he cries, I’m done for. I’ll start sobbing right there in the aisle.”

“Then don’t look at him,” Natasha advises, picking up a tissue and dabbing at the corners of your eyes. “Keep your eyes on Steve. That’s the goal, remember? Just make it to him without crying.”

At the mention of Steve, your chest tightens with a rush of love so overwhelming it’s almost too much to bear. You picture him standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for you, his blue eyes soft and full of adoration. The thought is enough to make you inhale sharply, and Natasha quickly steps in, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

“Focus,” she says sternly. “Breathe. You’ve got this.”

You nod, taking a deep, shaky breath as you try to calm yourself. “Okay. Okay, I can do this.”

Natasha gives you a small, approving smile. “That’s my girl.”

The door opens slightly, and Tony pokes his head in, his face immediately softening when he sees you. “Wow,” he says, his voice unusually quiet. “You look… wow.”

“Thanks, Tony,” you say, your voice wavering. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t you dare,” Natasha warns, pointing a finger at him. “I just got her under control.”

Tony steps into the room, straightening his tie as he tries to compose himself. “Okay, okay, no crying. But seriously, Y/N, you look… breathtaking. Steve’s going to lose it when he sees you.”

The lump in your throat grows, and you press a hand to your mouth, willing yourself not to cry. Tony steps closer, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “Hey,” he says softly. “You’re going to be amazing. And if you cry, who cares? It’s your wedding day. You get a free pass.”

You laugh through the tears threatening to spill, nodding as you squeeze his hand back. “Thanks, Tony.”

He grins, his usual bravado creeping back in. “Besides, if anyone’s going to cry, it’s me. I’m already a wreck. You’ll have to carry me down the aisle at this rate.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but her smile is fond. “You two are a mess,” she says, shaking her head. “Come on, it’s time.”

Tony offers his arm, and you take it, your fingers trembling slightly as you hold on. The doors to the bridal suite swing open, and you catch a glimpse of the decorated aisle, lined with flowers and softly glowing candles. The music starts, and your heart pounds in your chest as you take your first step forward.

The church is full of familiar faces, but you barely register them. Your eyes are fixed on the man standing at the end of the aisle, his gaze locked onto yours. Steve looks devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo, his expression a mixture of awe and love that makes your knees weak.

As you and Tony make your way down the aisle, you hear him sniffle beside you. “Damn it,” he mutters, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “I said I wasn’t going to cry.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, your own tears threatening to spill again. But Natasha’s words echo in your mind, and you keep your focus on Steve, drawing strength from the love shining in his eyes.

Finally, you reach the altar, and Tony steps back, giving your hand to Steve with a small, emotional smile. Steve’s hands are warm as they take yours, and his voice is steady as he whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

And that’s it. The tears spill over, and you laugh through them, shaking your head as Steve gently brushes them away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry.”

“I don’t mind,” he says softly, his voice full of affection. “I love that you feel so much. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

The ceremony begins, and though the tears continue to flow, they’re tears of joy, shared by more than just you and Tony. By the time you say “I do,” the entire room feels wrapped in the warmth of the love you and Steve share, a love that shines brighter than any tears.

we need more soft fics in this sea of smut! (I like smut fics too but like...sometimes I just want something fluffy)