#Roger's the blond if you didn't know

[callsign-swan]

Alone Together

For the last few years, Tony's daughter has been living out in the tower basement. She doesn't realise when Valentina buys the tower, not until she's being choked out by Sentry (turns out Sentry is a really sweet guy called Bob, who knew?)

Warnings: Slight thunderbolts spoilers

The last few years had been... content.

Everybody thought she disappeared, off the grid once her dad died. Some people tried to look; Happy, Pepper, some guy she was sure she knew but couldn't remember.

They didn't find her, she made sure of that. Wiped her name from every record, lived off of the small fortune her father had left her.

She wasn't a great engineer like her father, didn't spend her time making useful stuff like he did. She still made stuff, it just wasn't useful.

Spare parts, the basement was full of them. Scraps her father disregarded, that he didn't need. She was desperately trying to turn the scraps into something useful, but it wasn’t that easy.

So far, she'd built a computer. Well, she more rebuilt an old computer and used scrap metal to hide the wires. It was one of her proudest accomplishments.

Nobody knew she was in the basement. But it didn’t matter, since the old Avengers Tower had been vacant. If someone bought, she would have known.

(No, she didn't know that the tower had been bought. She didn't know that Valentina was moving in).

All of her details were still in the tower system; it was easy enough to hack into the intercom. She didn't do much with it, isolated it to the basement to play her music while she worked.

It was hard, trying to live up to greatness. It was even harder knowing you'll never be able to achieve it.

Rarely did she travel to other floors. If she did, she would have known about Valentina. If she did, she would have been arrested on the spot.

No daddy to bail her out this time. And Pepper wouldn't bother, she thought.

Maybe if she knew, she would have stayed in the basement, gathered up her things and moved out. She wouldn't have gotten in the elevator to get parts out of the floor. Parts her dad used to make machines to take off the Iron Man suite the second he stepped into the building.

Stepping into the elevator with an empty box in her hand and a screwdriver in her pocket, she pressed the necessary button. The doors slid closed and she began travelling up.

So many floors, but it took no time at all. That was her dad's doing. This entire place was her dad's doing. (Maybe that's why she couldn't leave it behind).

The elevator doors should have slid open to reveal nothing. An empty floor, exactly how the Avengers had left it. The bar her dad left nearly fully stocked before they moved to the compound.

But that wasn't the sight that greeted her.

People in the tower. There shouldn't have been people in the tower. Oh, she had fucked up.

They were mid fight, that much was obvious. The blonde guy in the ridiculous suit held Bucky's fist in his hand like he wasn't fighting a super soldier with a vibranium arm.

But the fight had stopped as everybody in the room stared at her. Goldilocks, discount Steve Rogers, blonde bombshell, soviet santa, mystery person and Bucky.

"You've got to be kidding me."

It was Bucky that said it, pulling his fist out of Goldilock's grip. In the moment of confusion, Goldilocks let him go, his gaze on her.

She resisted the urge to step back into the elevator. "I..." But she couldn't find the words. "What're you doing in my house?"

"Your house?"

She hadn't noticed the woman until now. Dark hair, grey in the front so pretty that it looked silver. Definitely dyed, but it looked good.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I bought this property and you are trespassing."

Her eyes went wide, grip on her empty cardboard box growing tighter. "Oh," she said, the air in the room becoming uncomfortable. But then she furrowed her brows. "Really? Because I've been living here for a while."

The woman's mouth dropped open. "How long- You know what? I don't care." She snapped her fingers. "Sentry."

Suddenly, she was moving through the air. Not of her own volition, she had no sort of power. In less than seconds, she was in front of Goldilocks, his fingers wrapping around her neck.

In her struggle, she gripped his wrist, tried to get out of his grip. But he was impossibly, terrifyingly strong.

There was something in his blue gaze that was soft. Suddenly, he let go of her. Her feet hit the floor and he stepped away from her. "Sorry, I... you don't deserve this," he mumbled.

Her hand found her own neck. He didn't have her in a strong grip, but it still hurt so damn much.

But she couldn't stop staring at him. Sentry. She had no doubt he had the potential to look terrifying, but he didn't in that moment. Regret shined in his blue eyes.

A hand grabbed her, pulling her back. She, along with Bucky, Discount Steve Rogers, Mystery Person, Blonde Bombshell, and Soviet Santa, ran towards the elevator.

They squeezed in and travelled down.

"What the fuck?" Bucky called as he pulled her out of the building. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She pulled her hand out of Bucky's grip. "I've been living here, Barnes," she called back, shoving her hands into her pockets. The screwdriver still sat there, the cardboard box back in the tower.

"Why aren't you with Pepper?"

A scoff left her lips, sounding more like a child than the adult she actually was. But that was one of the reasons she was in the tower in the first place, because she was sick of everyone treating her like a kid.

She released a breath and looked back towards the tower. "What the hell was that?" She asked, completely changing the subject.

Bucky let her. He didn't have it in himself to argue. But he wasn't going to answer her.

"That was Bob," came a new voice.

Her eyebrows went up. "Bob?"

"Bob."

She swallowed thickly. "What the hell is Bob?"

***

The New Avengers.

The name had her stomach rolling. The world didn't need the Avengers, did it? The only reason they'd needed the New Avengers was Valentina's own doing.

But here they were, in the Avengers - no - Watchtower. Bucky let her stay. He gave her conditions to her stay, but he didn't kick her out, didn't drag her kicking and screaming back to Pepper.

As long as she pulled her weight. As long as she worked, did the necessary repairs when they were needed. Sure, she was nothing like her father, but she had her own skills.

Bob was just Bob. Hair now brown, soft sweaters, books. No more blonde hair, no more shadow monster man (yes, she knew Sentry is more than that, but that was her way of referring to it. That was of referring to it sometimes pulled a smile from Bob).

No super soldier serum, no specialised training, no... whatever Ava was. Sure, he had incredibly strong powers, but they were safely tucked away and Bob was happy.

The two didn't immediately find themselves drawn to each other. She was curious, sure, but Bob didn't remember. He didn't have the answers for her.

But they found themselves left behind during missions. There was nothing wrong with that - how were they supposed to help the team?

The first few times, they kept to themselves. She didn't mind the isolation, that was how she lives when the tower was empty. But she watched Bob. Just what he was doing, how he entertained himself. His life had been full of tragedy, just like hers had been. Individual tragedies, but it made her curious about him.

On the teams third mission, their third time alone in the Watchtower together, she sat beside Bob.

"Whatcha reading?" She asked as she toed off her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her body.

Bob showed her the cover of his book, his finger slipped between the pages.

She patted her thighs, her fingers drumming against her skin. "Is it good?" She asked and Bob gave a nod.

Bob was a quiet guy. She'd learnt this through their limited interactions. But he wasn't usually this quiet. He at least had an answer for her.

So, she kept talking.

"You know, I lived here as a kid," she mumbled, laying back. Everything was different now it was the Watchtower. The bar her father so lovingly put in place was gone (but that was definitely a good thing).

Bob closed his book. "You're Tony Starks kid, right?" Her asked, one leg folded beneath the other, the other hanging off the edge of the sofa.

She gave a nod. "Yeah, grew up around the first round of Avengers," she mumbled.

Turning his head slightly, Bob let his hand rest in his wrist. He'd had a haircut since everything happened, him and Yelena in the bathroom with a pair of scissors. His hair was still a little bit wild, but it suited him.

"Why'd you live in the basement?"

Not the question she was expecting, but she didn't shy away from it. "Spent a lot of time in there as a kid," she answered. "Just felt right being in there."

It was more than that, clearly more than that, but Bob didn't pry.

He stood up. "Hungry?" He asked, watching as her eyebrows went up.

"You cook?" She couldn't help but ask.

Bob went to nod, but he stopped himself. "How hard can it be?" He tried, releasing a breath that suggested he didn't think it was going to be very easy at all.

She pushed herself up from the sofa. "I'll help," she said and went to follow him into the kitchen.

But Bob didn't move. "You cook?" He parroted.

A grin came across her face. "How hard can it be?"

Turns out, pretty fucking hard. Neither of them knew what they were cooking, and that was the first issue. The both of them were just pulling things out of the fridge and trying to decide what to do with it.

Chicken in a pan (plain and neither of them quite knew how to flavour it), spaghetti in boiling water (neither of them knew what to do for sauce), and a garlic bread pizza in the oven (the only promising part of the meal).

Bob pulled salt from the cupboard and seasoned the spaghetti.

"Fuck," she suddenly cried, fridge door open.

Bob raised his head, eyes wide as he looked at her. "What?" He asked, panicking slightly.

"This is John's boring chicken," she said, pushing the fridge door shut. Like she could hide the evidence if she just shut the fridge door.

"Shit," Bob replied as he turned it in the pan (one side finally looked cooked, but both of them knew not to trust it. Just a few more minutes and they'd check the inside).

"He's gonna kill us."

Bob nodded. "We're gonna die."

But then, they laughed. "If John really does try and kill us, you gotta protect me, okay?" She muttered, stirring the spaghetti in the boiling water. "All I got is this." She pulled the screwdriver from her pocket. She was never seen without it now.

"I'll protect you," he assured her, "I'll keep you safe."

Fear of John Walker was a great foundation for a friendship, as it turned out.

part one maybe?

[frownyalfred]

Since we believe the older Jason gets, the more he looks /acts like Bruce, if he attends a gala because of an obligation (i.e. Alfred guilt trips him and the others) how often does he get mistaken as his dad?

Does he take a little advantage and pretends with the more drunker socialites, and tricks them into donating to the lesser known charities that he knows get ignored and directly impact Gotham's poorer neighborhoods?

(Or does he just starts rumors to mess with them all about his dad's rich boy myth. He def makes shifts the hors d'eourves into almost small chilly dogs if he can)

"Mr. Wayne. There you are!"

Jason turned around, smiling wide enough his jaw hurt. With the slim-cut suit, the thin glass of champagne in his hand, and the angle of his shoulders, the whole move was practically a flourish. It was how Bruce did it, after all -- and frankly? It didn't feel too bad.

The true joy came, however, from seeing the faces of the two women as his identity registered. Their smiles tightened, but didn't disappear entirely. Not Bruce Wayne. Close -- but no cigar.

"Mr. Wayne is my father," Jason said, just a little lower than Bruce normally would. He let his eyes settle on the first woman -- blonde, thin lips, eyes narrowed -- and tilted his head, just a fraction. "But I get that all the time. It's flattering, really."

Was it?

"My mistake. You look just like him from behind," the blonde woman said, her strained smile returning. "Jason, yes? Truly remarkable."

Jason swapped his champagne glass into his left hand, holding out his right to her. "Jason Todd. And that's what I strive for at events like these -- remarkable."

The other woman laughed a little at that, breaking ranks with her friend. She was a little older, with more wrinkles on her face than she should have, at her age. A smoker, probably. "Jessica."

Jason shook her offered hand, giving her a smile. "A pleasure, Jessica."

"Anne," the blonde woman added, like an afterthought. Jason hadn't missed the way she'd avoided giving her name when they'd shaken.

Jason skipped right over that tidbit. "Are you looking for Bruce, then? I can point you in the right direction, but you might need to call a cab. He's at Wayne Manor tonight, unfortunately. A little under the weather."

If you can call three broken ribs and a concussion "under the weather."

"Oh, how awful," Jessica said, holding a hand over her mouth. She turned to Anne. "Did you know about this?"

"Of course not," Anne said, eyes narrowing in on Jason again. "Is he alright? It's not like him to miss an event like this."

Jason realized, idly, that was, in fact, Anne Regis. And that he was, in fact, standing at the Regis Charity night. Which meant Anne was -- in all likelihood -- pissed by Bruce's nonarrival. And disappointed in his replacement, if the way her lips pursed meant anything.

"Well, I'm sure he'll make the next one," Jason offered, shrugging one shoulder. Bruce's suit pulled a little, reminding him that silk and satin had less wiggle room than spandex and Kevlar weave. "Fear not, I did bring his check. And his checkbook, if the one he wrote wasn't...satisfactory enough."

It was telling, how Anne's eyes didn't light up at the idea of a larger gift. It meant that this event wasn't really about raising money -- it never was. It was about seeing and being seen. And Anne Regis had wanted to cash in on Bruce Wayne's presence, not his money. His social standing, his charm, his glamor -- not his checkbook.

"That's lovely, dear. What a thoughtful son." Anne glanced over her shoulder, indicating she was about to excuse herself. "Jessica, it looks like Roger is back. Why don't we excuse ourselves--" heh "--and say hello?"

Jessica gave Jason a warmer smile than Anne. "Stay sharp, kid."

"Tell Bruce I said hello," Anne said, with a nod that might have been charming, several decades ago. "We'll have to do brunch soon."

They left, disappearing back into the sea of people. As soon as they were out of sight, Jason diverted to the back bar, setting down his glass of champagne.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked him, taking the glass before Jason could even look for a discard tray.

Jason glanced at the impressive array of bottles, suddenly understanding why Bruce tended to stick to soda water or seltzer at these events. Every single word he'd traded with the women had been like a spar of its own. He needed to stay sharp. Sharper than he did, normally.

"Diet coke, lime, please," Jason said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a crumpled twenty. He put it in the tip jar, not missing the grateful spark in the bartender's eyes.

"Right away, sir."

[ivyasproperty]

Light In The Dark.

wanda.m x fem!avenger!reader

summary — you've always had problems with your eyes, so why is it there's something, specifically someone standing so brightly in front of you?

warning(s) : idfk im too tired to check

word count : 2.1k

A/N : took a 2 month break bc i was lazy oops </3, i also didnt know wtf to call the aura so i called it spiritual powers teehee

You were born with a mysterious disease that not even the worlds best doctors could diagnose, you knew this since you were a a toddler, and yet, you couldn't help but get frustrated every time it passed your mind.

Your disease was special, it messed with your eye sight. Yes, you could see, but in your eyes, everything was in a darker hue. What was supposed to be the crystal blue sky on a sunny day, looked like a rainstorm during night.

So of course it made sense you were frustrated, your disease has affected your life is so many ways. You've lost jobs at café's or restaurants for not being able to see the menu, the pages being too dark to see the words written across it, you've lost jobs at business companies, bosses complaining your progress was too slow. Sure the glowing white light from the computer helped, but only slightly.

And so of course you were surprised when Nick Fury, founder of SHIELD, presented an opportunity for you to join the Avengers. You were hesitant at first, not understanding why they'd invite a person like you. But you were then informed that your powers, that being your hindered eye sight, could detect spiritual power. You were confused... spiritual power? How the hell were you supposed to detect that?

As if reading your mind, the one-eyed man told you that a person who possessed spiritual power would emit an aura that only you would be able to see. The more spiritual power that person had, the brighter the aura would be. He explained you would be a useful asset to recruiting more people, be it for the Avengers, or SHIELD.

You didn't like the feeling of being a tool to recruit more people, so you were about to decline, but then brought up the monthly paycheck you'd make if you were to accept. Well..... how could someone refuse THAT amount of money am I right? ( i imagine it to be maybe 10k-15k usd per month ^^ )

ᯓ★

Your first day on the job wasn't bad per say, but it was definitely hectic. The Avengers compound was so far away from where you lived, you had to wake up 2 hours earlier than you usually do to arrived at a reasonable time. It wasn't just that, the compound was so big, you had troubles navigating through the damn building, and with your shitty eye sight, you ran into multiple walls, causing you to rest for awhile and wasting even more time. Curse Stark and his big ass building.

After FINALLY arriving at the lounge room of the compound, you were surprised to see all members of the Avengers lined up in a line facing towards the entrance, as if waiting for you to arrive. Standing in front of them was a familiar figure, one you've come to recognise as Nick Fury.

As if sensing your presence, he turned around and gave what you think was a grin, you couldn't tell, all you could see was pitch black because of your disease.

Introducing yourself was another issue, even with the shiny blonde hair that Steve Rogers and Thor Odinsson had, it was hard to distinguish their faces. You had to squint your eyes to see if a person was standing in front of you or not.

After introducing yourself to Natasha Romanoff, the black widow, it was on to the next and final person, one you've heard on the news multiple times. Wanda Maximoff, also known as the Scarlett Witch. She was just a few years older than you, so you were expecting a shy girl, what you weren't expecting was a bright red light shining around her figure. You covered your eyes, wanting and needing to block out the light to not damage your already damaged eyes.

After getting used to the shine, you let your hands fall to your sides, her features were something you've never seen before, which was ironic since you could barely make out people's faces. She had emerald green eyes, scarlet hair and light freckles adorned her cheeks. She was ethereal, you thought.

You were about to let go of her hand after shaking it when it hit you. Did you just explain her features in detail? But how? You could barely see anything. You looked back up at her face, and your eyes widened at how normal she looked. Nothing about her was a dark color, it was basically your first time seeing colors so bright.

You didn't notice the poor woman getting nervous under your gaze, 'is there something on my face?' she thought to herself. But before she could ask the question that she recited in her mind, she saw Fury tapping your shoulder, affectively breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry.." you murmured, "I've just never seen a face with such bright colors before. You know, with my disease and all...." You hated how shy you sounded, it was as if you were a petite girl getting caught for sticking her hand in the cookie jar.

"It's fine!" she enthusiastically said, she felt at ease after finding out the reason for your blatant staring. "Your names Y/N right? I hope we can be good friends." You hoped so too.

ᯓ★

You were settling in nicely. After being here for around 5 months, you've realised a lot more things about yourself. Who would've thought you'd be so good at sparring? Well at least yo were when against Steve, you'd never be able to beat Natasha. And who would've thought you were able to work out complicated biotech with Stark? Certainly not you. Who would've thought your heart would start pounding whenever Wanda Maximoff was around? Who would've tho- wait what? Your heart pounds whenever Wanda is around? You stopped in your tracks after the thought came into mind.

'I like Wanda?' you thought to yourself, 'That can't be, sure I'm always flustered around her and always crave to be around her, but that doesn't mean I have a crush on her! Right?' you asked yourself. 'Right?'

"Right about what, malysh?", you'd recognise that nickname from miles away. "It's nothing wands, somethings on my mind is all." "Penny for your thoughts then?", you couldn't help but giggle at her words, yo don't know why. "It'd be my pleasure."

"Is it about your powers? Oh! Maybe about how you'd finally beat Natasha at sparring?", her words were filled with excitement as she asked you questions.

"Ouch, Wands. To be clear I've beaten Natasha before..... at everything except what she's good at. And no it's nothing you've listed." you replied.

"Whatever you say malysh, so what's on your mind? Let me guess! Let me guess! Uhm...."

You giggled at her excited tone, your lips instantly pulling up into a smile whenever she showed you this side of her. Wanda was still fairly new to the Avengers, sure she was friends with all the members but she was closest to you. You felt fluttering in your stomach at the thought.

But, what if she eventually finds out about the pathetic crush you have on her? You've noticed the way she looks at vision, you don't know what he has that you don't, because you can't even tell what he looks like. Is he good looking? Handsome? Cute? But you did hear Clint muttering something about him having red skin.....

Back on the matter, you were worried, worried about how she'd react, would she like you back? Or would a disgusted look be plastered onto her goddess like features?

Even in stressful situations like this, you couldn't help but find Wanda beautiful. Her face got brighter day by day, the aura surrounding her getting brighter and brighter, showing that she was getting stronger too. You admired her for that.

You looked back in front of you, trying to avoid Wanda's piercing gaze as she tries to guess what's on your mind. What you didn't know was that Wanda had read your mind. She felt guilty, she promised you she'd never do anything like that to you. It was an invasion of privacy. But your thoughts were so loud! They were practically spewing out of your mind!

She couldn't help the blush that rose upon her cheeks at finding out about your crush on her. She herself was also finding it hard to come to light about her feeling towards you. Yes, she felt an undeniable pull between her and vision but her heart pounded in a different way when she was in your presence. She felt the stress ebb away from her body when she was able to rant to you about your problems.

It wasn't until you finally reached your destination, that being your room, that you stopped Wanda's rambling. "It's nothing to worry about Wands, just figuring things out is all."

And just as you were about to close your room door after entering, Wanda hurriedly jammed her foot between the door and your doorframe, wincing at the pain that she had willingly put herself through. To say you were shocked at her action was an understatement. "Are you alright?!" you half shouted, "You could hurt yourself doing that!" "I'm fine malysh. I just.... I just need a moment with you." she panted between breaths.

'A moment? With me? Did something happen? What's going on?' . you pondered as you entered your room, Wanda following behind you. "What's wrong Wands? Your face is really red. Like, REALLY red. And you can tell it's bad when even I can see a color as bright as that.", your worried tone warmed Wanda's heart. 'All I want to do right now is kiss that worried face of yours away.' she thought to herself. Well atleast she thinks she did.

"Y-you wanna what to my face away?", you asked, bewildered at the fact she just said that aloud. "Hm?", Wanda was still oblivious, it took a few seconds for her to realise what had just happened, and of course, her face turned as red as a tomato, at this point it was hard to differentiate the color of her face and her hair, they were almost the same.

"I-I'm so sorry, malysh! It just slipped out! I didn't mean it— well I DID, but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!-", you could feel your heart pumping wildly against your chest, what does she mean she means what she said? Does she want to kiss you? No that couldn't be it, but then what could she mean? I mean if she did, you wouldn't be complaining.

"Malysh? Are you listening? You know what i'll get straight to the reason why I wanted to talk, I like you, okay? Y/N? Y/N listen to me!" You were still in your own world, asking yourself question when Wanda suddenly started shaking your shoulders and was repeating the same sentence over and over again.

"Wait, hold on a second Wands. You like me? You?" you asked incredulously, as if she hadn't said it a dozen times already.

"Yes, stupid! I like you! Are you gonna say anything? Y/N? God....", she felt frustrated, and rightfully so. Your mind was still trying to process what she said, and after doing so your face turned to what you think is a bright red.

"Oh! That's.... that's cool! Yeah! I... I just......", you were a stuttering mess under Wanda's watchful gaze, and you felt panic rise within you when you noticed an upset look spread across her face. Wanda had took your stuttering as you being uncomfortable, and tried to talk her way out of the topic at hand when you suddenly cut her off before she could even say anything.

"I like you too! Okay! I just, I have a hard time expressing it.... 'M just shocked is all....", the words finally left your mouth in a hurried sentence.

"Why would you ever be shocked, malysh?", Wanda was confused, did you not notice her liking towards you?

"It's just, you're like a goddess Wands. You're beautiful, cheerful and powerful. I don't understand why you'd be with someone like me, someone who can't even see things properly."

"Well you can see me perfectly fine, no?"

"That's different, Wands."

"How so, Y/N/N? I don't care if you have problems seeing, malysh. Hell, I wouldn't even care if you were blind! I like you because you're you. And I like you, okay?"

You were processing her words, still trying to tell if she was saying it for fun or not, but when you realised she wasn't, you wrapped your arms around her frame.

"Woah! Calm down there, malysh. Still need to breathe." she chuckled. But you couldn't care less. She finally liked you back. You finally got your girl. You finally got the light in the dark.

A/N : if im being honest, i fucking hate this. i thought that maybe if i went with the flow it'd come out okay but at this point its just nonsense, but anywayyy!!! hope you enjoyed this one! feel free to leave requests!!!!

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

→ premise: you were just so pretty and so much smaller than your boys how could they not love it? though they’ve seemed to take notice of just how much you love it

→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader x bucky barnes

→ warnings: smut | 18+, size kink [reader is described as smaller/weaker in the sense of them being super soliders and stronger more muscles etc.][im also not that good at writing size kink so just squint a bit], body worship, dumbification, nicknames [little one, dumb baby, baby], oral [f receiving], creampie [only 1 i was gonna have them both do it but]

→ a/n: 01 kinktober

It was very hard for your boys to keep their hands to themselves around you, they were both very possessive after all but they knew you loved it. They noticed the way your thighs clenched when they stood tall behind you, presence big and looming as their large hands both snake around each side of your waist. Their stares and presence are enough to make the guy talking to you back off. They hear the small lustful gasp that leaves your lips when one of them manhandles you picking you up to place you out of their way. They were more in tune and hyper aware of every motion and sound you made than you'd like sometimes. They could catch on to things you like before even you could. Such as that you really really enjoyed just how much bigger and stronger they were than you.

It had been a couple days of a long mission where the three of you simply didn't have the time or space for many intimate moments, that was until you finally got back home. You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam before suddenly you're swept off your feet by Steve.

With a short startled scream you're thrown over one of his broad shoulders. “Hey i was in the middle of a conversation, you know” you whine and ignore the ache that begins to settle in your core at the action. You smack Steve's muscular back in an attempt of telling him to let you go, with the one hand that was holding your waist still he lets go quickly to smack your ass. You squeal and shut your mouth fast as arousal replaces all confusion and frustration. Steve's other hand that's gripping the back of your thigh squeezes a bit harder around the plush skin. You watch Bucky not far behind you two as Steve carries you to our shared bedroom. A small but seductive and taunting grin plastered across the brunette's face. He watches with amusement as your eyes glaze over, practically seeing you begin to sink into sub space already.

“Wish you could see her face rn, shes turning into our dumb little baby already thinking of all the things we’ll do to her” Bucky's deep voice breaks you for your train of thought before you sink right back away and the rest is a blur until your sat on your large soft king size bed, ass nestled into steves lap and your facing bucky whos sat in front of you.

“We missed your body little one” Steve whispers, coming out desperate and soft, breath hot the back of your neck as Bucky tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and resting his big calloused hand on your face. “Your perfect little body is all we ever need baby” Bucks voice is a stark difference to the blondes as his comes out husky and deep. You gasp as bucky's cold metal fingers find their way under your shirt inching towards your bare chest.

You couldn't be bothered to put a bra on for the long and uncomfortable trip home and you've never been more grateful for one of your decisions til this moment. His thumb brushes across your already hardening nipple at the same time that Steve begins leaving sloppy kisses on the back of your neck making his way to that sweet spot behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat as you squeeze your thighs together but steves warm hand slides between them spreading them apart. You whimper softly at the strength.

“We wanna worship that pussy baby don't hide it little one” Steve mumbles against your neck as he starts to unbutton your pants with one hand and push them down with your panties.

The boys move fast to discard the rest of your clothes as well as their own and their lips are back all over your body, kissing, marking, licking every inch of skin that they can.

You're now propped up against the headboard, a pillow behind your back and one under your hips. Bucky has one leg pinned and Steve has the other so your legs are spread, throbbing cunt on full display for them. Their strength while forcing your legs open causes your arousal to leak down your pussy and ass soaking the pillow under you as you squirm a bit in impatience.

“Look at our pretty little dumb baby Buck so needy, you want our mouths baby?” Steve asks in a soft yet taunting voice that has your head going hazy again. You nod yes eagerly and whine as the blonde and brunette hovered their mouths over where you needed them most. A small chuckle leaves Bucky's lips before he is quick to slide two of his thick warm fingers through your slick, spreading it over your puffy folds. The small gasp leaving your parted lips turning into a louder one the second his fingers slip inside you and are fast to find that spot only your boys could. Steve, not far behind Bucky in action, leans closer and starts to slowly flick your clit with his tongue, teasing you by slowly licking shapes over your aching clit. Your thighs twitch and on instinct your legs attempt to shut from the overwhelming pleasure, the pressure building embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum already little one? Keep these fucking legs open and cum on Bucks fingers, come on dumb baby” Steve groans against your pussy as he moves his attention back to your clit, sucking it sloppy and hard. Steve's hands grip your inner thighs hard and push your legs away from his head and Bucky pins one knee down to the bed with his free hand. “Cum on my fingers baby then you can get filled with our cocks you miss that dont ya’ little one” Bucky chuckled and watched as you squirm and whine when he starts slowly and teasing stroking his hard cock giving you the perfect view.

With a gasp and fingers threading through Steve's dirty blonde hair and pulling you cum hard on Bucky's fingers. You feel Steve smile against your clit as your chest rises and falls, catching your breath.

Bucky having other plans however the minute Steve pulls away from your clit is smacking his red leaking tip against your abused bud and slamming inside you. Your eyes glaze over and their voices fade as pleasure and overstimulation take over your body. A wanton moan fills the boy's ears causing them to smile as Bucky's thrusts are hard and fast. He's been pent up for days and your walls clenching around his thick cock is a heavenly feeling he desperately missed.

Your eyes fall shut but snapback open fast when Steve is gripping your cheeks squeezing them lightly, you whine, his rough hand making your face seem so small. “Eyes on us baby got it? Look at Buck as he fucks this gorgeous cunt yeah?” He questions and smacks your clit before you can answer, making you clench down harder on buck. “Yes! Mhm mhm!” You nod and hum in response, not being able to form enough words.

The brunette groaning loud and grabbing your hips hard to plow into you even harder. He was so big it was easy for him to manipulate you. “Fuck you’re already gonna make me come little one” his head falls back as he lets pleasure wash over him. He thrusts one last time filling you to the hilt as thick hot ropes of cum fill you up. Your mind goes blank again and before you can register their voices again, Steve's hands are grabbing onto your hips and lifting you into his lap.

“Shes already so fucked out aww well too bad baby i need to be inside you so fuckin’ bad missed it just as much as buck did” Steves voice is ringing in your ears but before you can form an answer he is lfting you up again to slide down onto his cock. “Ah! Fuck steve” you whine and yet still press your hips down to take him inside. “Look at you trying to complain baby you love it when we manhandle you, didn't think we noticed huh?” Bucky taunts and grabs a fist full of your hair to pull your head back so he can kiss you hungrily. You kiss back passionatly with a goofy smile on your face that fades into a lust filled one once steve starts to fuck up into you, hands still grabbing onto your now probaly bruised hips.

You moan against Bucky's lips, head hazy but happy thinking of how well they will take care of you after this. They may manhandle you and be much stronger than you but they could be big teddy bears when it came to aftercare.

→ a/n: this is only my second time writing stucky so i hope its as good as my first one that everyone loved but :) also this was meant to go up yesterday im not doing 31 days im doing 18 im posting a fic every saturday, sunday, tuesday, and thursday but i got busy yesterday and this wasnt proof read too well so im sorry and i rushed the ending to get it out td.

[inktopuck]

juno | quinn hughes social media au (pt.11)

pt. 10

_quinnhughes

Liked by colecaufield, fincanucks and others

_quinnhughes little piece of heaven

trevorzegras oh my god stop rubbing it in my face

colecaufield that's what she said

trevorzegras get out

_quinnhughes he can stay

trevorzegras okay so i'll leave

_quinnhughes fine by me

trevorzegras why do you hate me

yournamehughes quinn trevor won't stop texting me about you hating him please tell him you don't hate him

_quinnhughes no can do babydoll

yournamehughes jack give him back his phone

yournamehughes

Liked by elblue6, bboeser and others

yournamehughes bubba's first time at rogers! and how stunning is daddy??? 😍

jackhughes Y/N for the love of god don't make me read shit like this, idc how stunning you think quinn is

yournamehughes quinn? i was talking about arty!

arturssilovs1 🫶🏻

_quinnhughes watch it

yournamehughes or what

_quinnhughes you know what

jackhughes i'm gonna k*** myself

trevorzegras nooo don't kill yourself ur so hot aha

eliaspettersson in uncle petey's jersey!

yournamehughes you're his favorite

bboeser it's because of that big round shiny head of his

yournamehughes no fights in my comments he loves both of his blonde princesses

elblue6 third gen hockey family!!

colecaufield habs draft pick in a few years!

_quinnhughes over my dead body

colecaufield noted 🔪📝

jackhughes

Liked by _quinnhughes, l_hughes06 and others

jackhughes giving my boy all my wisdom

l_hughes06 so... you're giving him...nothing?

jackhughes and this, theodore, is why uncle lukey has no girlfriend and no friends

l_hughes06 he's 2 years old jack he isn't reading shit

yournamehughes are you the one teaching him all these colorful swear words he's loving at the moment

jackhughes no i am not the reason your child curses like a sailor ask luke

l_hughes06 not me. ask cole

colecaufield i didn't think they were going to curse on drag race!

yournamehughes you didn't think they were going to curse on DRAG RACE

_quinnhughes don't forget to mention his godfather is a massive nerd

jackhughes shut up, 7th overall draft pick, the 1rsts are brainstorming

l_hughes the storm? a bit of drizzle

subbanator oh he's getting those 10 jizzy commandments 🫡

l_hughes06

Liked by elblue6, jackhughes and others

l_hughes06 fuck around and find out #theo

_quinnhughes luke what the fuck is this

jackhughes he left theo alone for 10 minutes in the kitchen while mom was picking up flowers

l_hughes06 i needed to go to the bathroom

_quinnhughes AND YOU COULDN'T TAKE HIM WITH YOU

l_hughes06 bro i draw the line at forcing the kid to stare at the wall while i'm in the toilet

yournamehughes luke why is my child vacuuming

l_hughes06 the caption is self explanatory

yournamehughes did you at least give him a shower before putting him in the onesie?

l_hughes06 ofc do you think i'm a brute

_quinnhughes yes

colecaufield yes

jackhughes yes

elblue6 Luke Warren Hughes is that ALL the flour i had in the house for your father's birthday cake

l_hughes06 ask your grandson

pt. 12

[muddyorbsblr]

bad feeling

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki's entrance into the Avengers Compound depends on your approval

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning/s: minor character that's teeming with douchebag energy and doesn't age check before sliding into the DMs; language (nope still not sorry, Rogers); my rusty af writing (it's been months and honestly this might be cringe but if it is don't tell me i'm sensitive--) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: metahuman Reader in denial; instalove trope alert (i didn't think i'd ever be writing that but here we are)

"Brother, this is truly unnecessary," Loki groaned, fighting every urge to drag his feet as his brother led him down the halls of the Avengers Compound, avoiding the mix of curious and alarmed stares from the Midgardians donning near-identical jumpsuits. "Rogers' begrudging approval of your truly asinine idea was enough, you need not lead introductions. I am quite sure that Stark and the rest of your comrades have not forgotten who I am."

Thor simply rolled his eyes in response. "Of course they have not forgotten, Brother, but we have had quite the number of newcomers, and I will run not the risk of them reacting with hostility if they cross paths with you. So I shall conduct a simple extemporized introductory session with them so they may…acclimate to your presence in the Compound. And not think it a clandestine invasion and trigger a security lockdown."

As if right on cue, two faces, one familiar and the other quite new to the god of mischief approached, the sounds of their jovial exchange coming to a deadening halt. The smiles on their faces quickly morphed into furrowed brows and battle stances. "Thor, why have you brought him here?" the woman with auburn hair questioned, a red energy that he recognized as Chaos Magic forming in her hands while her companion, Romanoff, looked ready to strike.

"Please, stand down, my friends." The blond god held his hands up in front of them. "He means no harm, I promise you. I've brought him here so that perhaps he could join--"

"Not a fucking chance, Barbie," Romanoff seethed. "I still remember the mind job he did--Wanda what are you doing? Why are you actually listening--"

"Because some time ago I did what you call a 'mind job' on the rest of you," she answered the former Russian spy simply, standing down and waving her magic away. "And now here I get to stand, calling you all my friends. Because you forgave me for my misdeeds. Gave me a second chance. I think we should all extend the same kindness now."

"I commend the way you think, Maximoff," Rogers' voice echoed across the common area, bystanders not so subtly beginning to crowd the area surrounding them, only parting to let the super soldier through and take his stance in the middle of the group. "Much as I'm not the biggest fan of Mister Leather and Metal 'you will all kneel before me', Wanda's right." He took a step back and addressed the room. "Everyone, Loki will be joining us for the foreseeable future. I expect you all to make an effort to help him adjust to his new life here on Earth. Or at least not get in his way. Now, back to work. All of you."

The curious agents all scattered about, returning to their tasks prior to the Asgardian brothers arriving.

"Thank you, Steven," Thor spoke up once the bystanders made themselves scarce. "You will not regret--"

"Not so fast, Odinson." Rogers threw his hand up, stopping his brother's words short. "I want him to meet Y/L/N first. If she says he won't give us any grief, then he can stay. She says no? You'll have to find another place to park your brother."

"Hey--!" Loki fought back the urge to throw a dagger in the soldier's direction. "I am not some meager property that needs to be set down--"

"If you would rather Strange lock you back in an eternal fall, that can be arranged," he shot back, the muscles in his jaw twitching in a telltale sign that he was fighting back a smug grin. He motioned toward the interrogation area, showing the way. "Meet Y/L/N, and we'll go from there."

Thor led the way further into the Compound and past the common area, the temperature dropping significantly and impelling the god to cast an enchantment that would raise his core temperature so as to not trigger his Jotun form to emerge. "Apologies, Brother," he spoke as they made their way down the hall. "There have been suspicions that an intern for one of SHIELD's departments has been a HYDRA operative attempting to pilfer data to fuel some form of invasion. This individual is in one of the interrogation rooms now awaiting Y/N's arrival, and the temperature was her idea. Put the young man in a sense of high discomfort to lower his guards."

"Have him focus on making his body cope with the temperature rather than his mind on deflecting her queries," he surmised, nodding his head as they stepped into the viewing area, laying eyes on the clearly novice employee in that same jumpsuit the others wore outside. His breathing was jittery and labored, rubbing his hands furiously to generate even some form of heat. It wouldn't be difficult to break through his defenses. "She's a clever one, that mortal. Though I could save you all the interrogation and read the lad's mind--"

"No no," Thor waved him off, motioning for him to look into the room once more. "I want you to see her at work. It's rather fascinating watching her work, and the machination of her mind is rather…perplexing."

"Should we be contacting one Doctor Foster to inform her of his…fascination of yours, Brother?" he gibed, raising an eyebrow in suspicion and finding himself a touch more curious when Thor simply laughed off the question.

"My heart is Jane's and Jane's alone, Brother. You know this," he answered, giving his brother a pointed look. Guilt sat heavily on his heart, knowing full well the words that the god of thunder chose to omit. Considering that I destroyed the Bifrost just to protect her from you.

It would take time before amends were made for making that particular threat, no matter how empty it truly was.

Before Loki could say anything, the door on the other side of the two-way mirror opened, a hard-faced Agent Romanoff entering the room and taking the seat opposite the suspected traitor. She made a point to shrug off her jacket and bare her arms, the action making the young man's face twist in derision, undoubtedly because it challenged his quite fragile ego even more.

"I have nothing to say to you," he said, the shaking tone of his voice betraying him. "Why aren't you cold? You all did something to me, didn't you? Made your freaky witch friend cast some curse on me?"

Romanoff leaned back against her chair, her smirk growing as his scowl deepened. "Where I was from, this is what summer felt like," she shot back casually, keeping her tone even despite the bold-faced lie. "And I don't need you to say anything." She jutted her chin in the direction of the door, a proud look on her face as you walked in to the room. "I just need her to look at you."

"Mister Park…" you droned, taking your time to cross the distance from the door to the cold metal desk. "I'm Agent Y/L/N, I'll be your interrogator."

You leaned in to the edge of the table, gripping the corners. Your body stiffened for a few seconds as you took a sharp breath, adjusting to the frigid cold. There was a distant, calculating, enigmatic smile on your face as your eyes roamed his features. Almost as if you were picking away at the fragments of his protective shell, exposing the answers he refused to give with just that one look.

It was a sight that was all too familiar to him. Something his mother would use on suspected traitors to the Realm back in Asgard. Perhaps that was what you were doing, after all. Or perhaps it was a well-crafted facade. Something that Romanoff or another former spy within SHIELD's ranks had taught you to unnerve its recipient.

"Like I told Agent Hot Stuff over there, I have nothing to say to any of you," he sneered.

"And like Agent Romanoff told you, we don't need you to say anything. All you have to do…is sit there." You squinted your eyes at him, sighing deeply as you said the words that apparently cemented the suspected traitor's fate. "I've got a bad feeling about you." You leaned in close, invading his personal space and making him even more visibly uneasy, not even bothering to mask how his body was shaking. "Nice contacts."

In a heartbeat, Agent Romanoff leaned across the desk and grasped the bottom of the apparently confirmed traitor's face, the man they called Park now wincing and groaning in even more discomfort as she inspected his eyes. "Implants?" she asked you.

"Seems buddy boy here's really committed to the cause," you remarked, mocking their organization's salute. "Helium Hydrogen or some shit."

Park slammed his fists down on the table, neither woman even flinching at the outburst. As if you both saw it coming. "It's Heil Hydra, you stupid bitch!" he screamed, fighting against Romanoff's hold and trying to stand up from his seat to charge at you.

You, however, simply responded with a self-satisfied grin as you called out toward the other side of the door, "And there's our verbal confirmation! Lock 'im up." And just to goad the traitorous intern on further, you ruffled his hair and looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Thank you for your cooperation."

Right as you said the words, Rogers burst into the room along with two other agents, flanking him and restricting his movement so he couldn't charge at anyone in the room. "Put him in the holding cells until transport gets here," he instructed the agents, who simply nodded and walked the traitor out of the room.

You and Romanoff turned off the lights and walked out arm in arm. Loki caught a smidgen of your conversation about meeting the significant other of another new Avenger. Something about "earning your stamp of approval".

"What did I tell you, Brother?" Thor prompted, nudging his arm.

"Fascinating," he mumbled, unable to wipe the image of that enigmatic smile of yours from his mind. Wondering what you looked like when you were genuinely beaming at something. Or someone. "It seems she's somewhat telepathically inclined."

"That is what many of us have been trying to tell her, but she refuses to listen. Insists that she is simply better inclined at reading others from her years of dreadfully flawed relationships of 'every kind'," he explained, leading him down the same hallway that you and Romanoff had disappeared to moments ago. "Repeatedly tells us that her most effective and only teacher has been, in her words, her life's revolving door of shitty people."

"And Rogers wishes for me to meet this Y/N so that she may what? Approve of my being here? He defers to her when it comes to newcomers in your merry band of his realm's mightiest heroes?" He tried to mask his curiosity with his signature smarm, trying to seem disinterested in what seemed like an initiation rite.

But in truth he was all the more looking forward to being face to face with you.

"She has not yet been incorrect in the years that I have known her. And you have nothing to fret about, Brother. You will make a fine addition to this team," the blond said proudly, both of them finally arriving to the considerably warmer common area. Loki finally lifted his enchantment, no longer concerned of his Jotun form emerging as his brother raised his hand and called out in your direction, "Y/N! I have returned from Asgard and there is someone I wish for you to meet--"

"In a minute, Barbie. Carter's bringing in her latest beau. Something about her wanting me to have a read on him before she gets too invested," you answered him, throwing your hand up in their direction. You threw a cursory glance their way, barely registering the raven-haired god, before returning your gaze to the door where another unfamiliar face walked in, arm in arm with a man whose entire aura screamed 'philanderer'.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Nathan. Nathan, sweetie, this is my friend--"

"Wow you're stunning," the man said, raising his hand in front of him, seemingly to shake yours. But the positioning seemed…off. As if he were to turn your hand and kiss the back of it the second you even brought yours a fraction of an inch upward.

One look into this Nathan's thoughts all but confirmed it. Along with all the other deplorable indiscretions he had stacked against him.

If the god's suspicions were right and you truly were telepathically inclined, you would see those indiscretions, too. With the right guidance, you could explore the true scope of your abilities. Perhaps even advance them.

Your unmoving stance brought along a disquiet to your friend's features, her smile fading into a grim line as her eyes drooped and her posture slumped. She'd seen this reaction from you before, and she seemed to already brace herself for your next words.

"I've got a bad feeling about you," you said in an ominous tone, standing at your full height before tilting your head slightly. From where he stood, Loki could see the man grow visibly anxious, his pulse quickening and beating furiously against his neck.

"What--Why what'd you see?" your friend croaked out, fighting back sobs.

You chose to instead address the deplorable excuse of a man. "You checked out no less than three women since you walked through the front door, and at least twice you wondered if any of them would be down for a threesome. You have a secret social media account that you use to sext other women and send them your dick pics, ohh and by the way…that pump that you're using? Doesn't do shit."

The god had never seen someone's complexion visibly pale until now, Nathan losing all color in his face as if he'd been drained of blood. "You--You d-don't know what you're talking about, you fucking freak!" He looked to Carter, his eyes rife with panic. "Babe, your weird friend here's just pulling this all out of her ass, she's lying--"

His paltry laughable excuses were cut off with a chorus of hissing sounds and "ooh"s and "yikes" from your team, as if his words were so offensive they physically stung. Stark spoke up, clapping his hand down on the man's shoulder. "Now see here, Rudolph the horny reindeer, you've made at least five mistakes since you stepped through that door. But calling Y/N here a liar? Yeah, that dug your grave, dick for brains."

"Well then she's wrong!" he whined, grabbing for his lover's hands and holding on with a death grip. "Baby, you know me, I'm your pookie bear. I would never hurt you--"

"Oof goddamn now I wish I was lying," you quipped, a mixture of surprise and disgust coloring your features. "You couldn't waterboard that nickname out of me. Maybe try going for something that doesn't sound like a name a toddler would give a stuffed animal for the next one? You probably have her all lined up, right? Somewhere in all those DMs and FaceApp'd shrimpy photoshoots?" You took a step closer, not seeming to care about how his free hand was clenched so tightly into a fist that it began to shake. "By the way, I hope you age checked those girls. I'll give you two pieces of free advice. First? Age of consent in New York is seventeen. Second? Don't treat it like a damn target."

Your friend Carter finally jerked her hand out of his and struck him across the face, the sound reverberating through the common area. Stark raised his brows and nodded at her in approval, making a remark about how he wished he had some popcorn.

"It's over," she told him. "I don't ever want to hear from you again." Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she said the words and motioned toward the same door they walked through just minutes before.

"I'm not going anywhere," he insisted, acting like a misbehaving toddler and stomping his foot. "Why would you even believe this freaky little bitch over your own boyfriend, I thought we had some--"

"Because we trust her, cradle robber. And to this day she's never been wrong about a damn thing," Stark sniped, walking over and putting himself between you and the increasingly belligerent Nathan. He placed a tablet in Carter's hands. "I took the liberty of getting into his second account and sending screenshots of his messages to…well, just about everyone in his contacts list. But I figured you ought to see it and scroll through the messages first hand, Sharon."

At this moment, Loki caught another glimpse into the philandering man's mind, seeing a vision of him intending to attack you and strangle you with his bare hands. And just as the god suspected, you had glimpsed the same thought running through his mind, side stepping out of the way just before Nathan could get a hold of you. He watched with more than mild amusement as Thor stepped forward next and grabbed the whining man by the back of his shirt and lifting him into the air.

"Any mortal capable of even the tiniest amount of coherent thought would know better than to attack my friends," the blond said in a low, authoritative tone that eerily reminded Loki of their father. He promptly walked Nathan to the same door that he and Carter had walked through; Loki could see that his brother was physically fighting the urge to give the impudent puny mortal a swift kick to his rear as he gave him a nudge out of the premises.

"Thank you, Barbie," you spoke, an equally amused look on your face after witnessing the whole ordeal. "Always knew it was a good idea to have an Asgardian bouncer guard dog around."

Once Thor had made his way back to you and the rest of the team, you and he grasped each other's forearms. A show of respect that the blond oaf usually only had reserved for his closest comrades, the Warriors Four. Only recently had he even done that with Loki, and while the god of mischief would never admit it aloud, the gesture had him fighting back that traitorous prickling in the backs of his eyes.

"Speaking of having Asgardians in the Compound, there is someone I wish for you to meet, Lady Y/N," he spoke, motioning toward his brother. You tilted your head, a smile so starkly different from the one you had in the interrogation room brightening your features the moment your eyes met Loki's. "This is my brother, and he could be quite an invaluable asset to the team."

"With your go ahead, Agent Y/L/N," Rogers spoke from his seat, intently watching the scene play out before him. Once again agents had begun to crowd around them, completely halting their movements to bear witness. "Like Stark said, we trust you."

You barely gave a response, the only indicator that you'd even heard Rogers' words being a slight jut of your chin in his direction. Loki took your considerably smaller outstretched hand in his, taking every bit of his strength to stay upright as the visions bombarded his mind. The smallest gasp slipped from your lips. You took a moment to compose yourself before you spoke, addressing the team.

"All clear, he can stay," you announced, a boisterous whoop coming from Thor the second you gave your judgment. Neither of you made a move to let go of the other's hand.

"Okay not to take a page out of your book here, jellybean, but…" Stark spoke, breaking you two out of your own little bubble. He pointed his finger back and forth between you and the raven-haired god. "I've got a bad feeling about the two of you."

Stop smiling, you literal idiot, you chided yourself as you paced the floor of your apartment. There was no logical reason to even be thinking of the new member of the team now that you weren't around him, and yet you couldn't get the jet black-haired Asgardian dressed in dark emerald leather out of your mind.

The bar must have been in hell if all it took to get you to actually smile was the fact that the second you two met eyes, no alarm bells went off the way that they did for that newbie traitor…or Sharon's now ex boyfriend. The only hunch that you got looking at him was that he was definitely there to watch the interrogation and trying to figure out how you clocked the iris implants on Park.

"Maybe if he figures it out, he could clue me in on it, too, because I don't have the foggiest fucking idea where that came from," you muttered into the emptiness. And then like clockwork, you found yourself thinking about his blinding brilliant smile again.

And the way his hand completely dwarfed yours.

And how even in those few moments in the common room, being around him for some reason blanketed you in this feeling as if, for the first time in a long time, you didn't have to be as careful anymore. Like you no longer had to constantly be looking over your shoulder because someone might actually have your back and--

"Now you're just being ridiculous, Y/N," you grumbled at yourself, staring down your reflection. "How many times have you had your heart shattered from trusting too easily? Feeling safe around him is exactly why you shouldn't feel safe, why is it that for all the people that trust your instincts, you can't seem to listen to them yourself? And have I lost my freaking mind I am talking to my own--"

Knock knock knock

The sound came from your front door, snapping you out of your rant. "Who in the fuck?"

A lump formed in your throat when you opened the door, looking up at the exact stormy blue eyes that refused to leave your mind since you met him a little over an hour ago. The ones that made a question form in your mind that you couldn't bring yourself to voice out.

Why do I have a good feeling about you?

"Loki…" you said his name slowly, trying your best to ignore how bizarrely right it felt to say it. As if you were meant to. As if you were going to say it -- scream it, even -- for years to come.

"Good evening, Y/N." What you couldn't ignore was how the sound of your name from his lips made your knees want to buckle. "I wish to speak to you about something that I saw when I touched your hand earlier. A vision. Of the future."

The lump in your throat suddenly got bigger. "Ohh God am I gonna die? Soon? Because if I am I don't want spoilers, not even hints, what's gonna happen is gonna--"

"I saw us," he cut you off, reaching for your hands and rubbing circles on the inside of your wrists. "Years of stolen glances and missed opportunities and unsaid words. And it was only at the brink of losing you forever that I finally would find the courage to tell you of my affections."

There were no words, all you could do was blink at him as you tried to process his words. Looking desperately for the telltale signs that there was a disconnect between what he was saying and what his actual intentions were for coming to you like this. The disconnect that was present with most men that you were face to face with.

And yet your intuition, that hadn't failed you for as long as you could remember, was practically squealing with glee that you could feel safe around the god.

"Why are you telling me this?" you asked him. You were surprised you could even form words. Or that you somehow managed to bite your tongue from letting slip a more abrasive question.

He stepped closer to you, a soft smile on his face as he gently framed your face with his hands. "I don't wish to spend the next years pining away and foolishly waiting for the timing to be just right. I had glimpsed our future, and it was…" His smile widened into a brilliant grin, his thumbs tracing along your cheekbones. "It was resplendent. Having even the most fleeting glimpse that what we would have, it had me awash with…peace. The kind that I had longed for for centuries."

Your breath hitched when he pressed his lips to your forehead, your heart pounding away furiously in your chest. You knew a little too well the feeling that he was describing. That feeling of peace. Of a calm quietude that put you at ease even if the world would have been crashing down around you.

That feeling like you were home.

"Now as for your unspoken question," he whispered, breath warming your skin. "Of what am I doing here…I wish to change that future. Or rather, hasten it along. If that is what you want as well, of course."

He pressed his forehead to yours, loosely wrapping his arms around you. All you could do was nod, secretly grateful that he was holding you upright because the violent fluttering in your stomach was making it hard to stand.

That feeling spread throughout your entire body like wildfire when he briefly brushed his lips against yours; you could feel how much restraint he was exerting to pull away. To test the waters. To wait for you to tell him it was alright.

And you let out the words that were fighting to break free since you first saw him earlier today. "I have a good feeling about you."

A/N: *peeks out from behind the laptop* ohai there…long time no see 🙈 Imma say it again because it bears repeating: I'm rusty as all fuck and I might be for a while, but I'm trying to get back into writing since I haven't really done much ever since starting the new job. But things are finally beginning to settle down and normalize, so I'm trying to somehow find a groove again.

I'm gonna be so real w/ y'all, the next stuff on my queue is RTC and 'the final Lady Sharpe' and with how rusty my prose feels, I'm so scared to touch them 😂

Also this is another story that was inspired by a TikTok pov trend. The one where people lip sync and act along to the song that goes "Oompa Loompa doopadeedoo I've got a bad feeling about you", as if it wasn't cringe enough 🥴🫡

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[sunvmars]

only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

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word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really, but just how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

taglist!

@pigeonmama @rogersbarber @buckysprettybaby

if you'd like to be to my general taglist, feel free to ask or visit my taglist form to be tagged in more specific fics :)

[stuckyslut8]

DIY gone wrong ..

Pairing : congressman bucky x bunny hybrid! Reader (and a little suprise)

Summary : your grumpy and sleepy master makes you do everything by yourself, but then fucks you dumb once he understands his bunny can't do anything right.

Warning : smut, a little angst , dystopian au where hybrids are treated badly. Dark content. Dub con. Do not read if it makes you uncomfortable. 18+ . Minors dni. Edging, dark bucky, morally fucked reader . Bucky barnes is a pu**y whisperer , don't tell me otherwise.

(don't think there's any major thunderbolts spoilers ahead)

You waited for your master to come home after his job, of saving the world.He hadn't done a lot of superhero stuff since he became a congressman , somedays he was wondering if what he was doing was any good, most days he was exhausted from the politics and listening to the commentary from his rivals, or the media tearing his past apart, everyday there a new news article about him.

But through all those days he had once constant thing, his bunny, his pet, who always adored him no matter what , it didn't matter to you what his past was what his present was, all you cared for was him and that was all bucky needed, he thought it was a little selfish at first to keep you in this little bubble , to himself, you were free to go out of course (only to places Bucky had pre approved and only with bodygaurds), you were allowed to interact with anyone (only the people Bucky approved of course). But form the place where you came, the hybrid training facility as they called it, all the freedoms bcuky offered felt like heaven to you. You weren't a dumb bunny , he knew that too , you understood what he was doing and why he did that, it didn't matter to you cuz he was all you needed . But putting on this act of being a dumb little bunny got Bucky so hard , you loved having that power over him .

You had your own bed(which you shared with Bucky of course) , your own closet, your own art room, your own garden, your own kitchen, which you really enjoyed and you know Bucky did as well, when he would fuck you against the counter, or make you suck his cock. "So good bunny, such a good cock sucker my bunny is" .

"thank you daddy " your sometimes call him that , sometimes master, sometimes baby, sometimes bucky.

You were something bucky didn't know he needed in his life until he got you. More like steve has gifted him before his departure with the stones, to a past he'll grow old in with peggy. He knew Bucky needed someone to love and cherish him. He had handpicked you himself for Bucky, and even "tested" you a couple of times before handing you over to Bucky. No one at the facility had the spine to say no to captain rogers of course, they were eager to please him, he just saved the world after all, brought half the population back, he was a hero to all. Though hybrids were rare and not for everyone, America's best soldier deserved it.

"you're so perfect bunny" you remeber the blonde super soldier telling you, as he took you apart in your training room, "such a tight pussy, Bucky's gonna love it, and these perfect tits, I'm personally an ass man but bucky loves tits ," he smacked your ass before he pounded into you again, your voices muffled by the pillow , as you were facing ass up. "But this ass is perfect too, Bucky's gonna take you apart " , he pumped you full of his load, as your roomates watched in envy, of course any hybrid there would love to be picked by captain America himself, he was a sight for sore eyes. You were quite proud of yourself after that, watching the other hybrids face turn green of jealousy, good they deserve it for picking on you, making fun of you for failing your table manners class. "Such a good little bunny.." you could feel Steve's fingers pushing his cum back into your hole, "too bad can't have you myself too, but Bucky needs this and i gotta go back to peggy." You didn't hear a word coming out of his mouth, too lost in your last orgasmic bliss, this was better than any of the times you ever made yourself come. "You know your place , don't you bunny?" You only nod in response.

"you gonna make my Bucky happy bunny you understand? " Steve says , as he leads you to his car. Finally breathing in the air of freedom, goodbye that wretched hybrid facility, hello freedom.

So that was it ,one day you were the bunny of war veteran james Buchanan barnes, the former winter soldier ,the next day you were the bunny of Congressman barnes , you were his bunny but also his love as Bucky would call you. "My wife " he'd say sometimes , "the light of my life " . Bucky loved showing you off at the party's , you loved latching on his arm. You felt pride in having such a man.

But today was a little different. Tired was an understatement for Bucky's current state , he was exhausted beyond words could describe.

After saving the world from "bob" , he just wanted to sleep forever with his bunny by his side, of course. But it wasn't your plan for the night, you were all dressed up in your little lacy blue babydoll that Bucky loves so much, it was 40s style , custom made for you, Bucky loved dressing you up like a 40s housewife and was shameless about it. "My good little wife, know how to make your husband happy", he'd say when you'd cook something for him, or do any chores . He appreciated you, for every single thing you did. But today was so was exhausted that he told "not today bunny,put on your pjs ,we're gonna have an early night" he said.

And you obeyed, of course, but the thing is it's never happened before , what did you do wrong, was bucky tired of you, was he seeing someone else, was it that vile woman's secretary who kept calling bcuky the other day when you were riding him, feeding him your homemade cookies, rubbing his belly to feed him more. So many questions wandered through your mind, but Bucky was sound asleep next to you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his flesh arm wrapped around your middle, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, humping your clothes pussy over his boxers, you tried to be subtle about it, but you couldn't , suddenly his hand on your hip stopped you.

"what are you doing bunny , though I told you to sleep."

"can't sleep bucky, I need you. " You whined. And of course Bucky couldn't say no to you but he was tired.

"fine just fuck yourself on my cock bunny, I'm tired ." He said with his eyes closed.

You did as he said, pulling your panties down , getting his leaky tip out of his boxers, you were confident you'd stretched yourself thoroughly, and lowered your pussy on his tip, it barely went in, you were struggling. You tried twisting and turning in his arms, how pathetic you looked, trying to take your husband's big cock, it was too big, it was his fault really, Bucky never bothered training you into how to do it yourself, he'd always take his time stretching you out himself, with his thick fingers, made sure you were ready before he put his thick member in , it was thicker than a normal one, due to the the serums enchantments of course , and you weren't the one to complain about the way it filled you so good , streched you just enough to make you see the stars.

But today, it was working to your complete disadvantage, you tried and tried to put it in your throbbing pussy. Bucky only got weary of your moments after a while, "what's going on you dumb bunny? Can't take my cock?" You shake you head , "i tried jamie , he just doesn't wanna go in". Bucky loved it when you spoke about his duck like that .

Bucky was already frustrated from everything that happened, and with you disturbing his sleep now, you were sure he was gonna fuck you like crazy, finally.

"can't do the one thing you're meant to do huh? Dumb bunny, always want daddy to do all the work." He said spreading your lips apart, rubbing your sensitive nub, make you whimper.

"yes daddy please, wanna take you , help me."

"my dumb bunny " he positioned you so you were face down in the pillows, your cunt spread open for this display, he gave your ass a couple of smacks, leaving his mark there. You moaned as the pleasure courses through you.

"you just don't know how to work my pretty pussy, do you bunny? " He asks you pumping his two fingers in and out of you at a steady phase.

"no daddy, she never listens to me"

"tsk tsk don't blame her bunny, she's a good girl, unlike you" *smack ,he rubbed your sore bottom soothingly, before *smack. "I know my prettty pussy, she always listens to me, unlike you brat, waking me up in the middle of the night by humping me?" He put his tongue in your hole, fucking you with it, swirling it around the right spots making your bakc arch, you were about to cum, he knew it, he pulled out just in time.

"daddy please i wanna cum" you said , knowing it was gonna get you into more trouble.

"shh don't wanna hear you, I was having a good time with my pretty pussy, I'll let her come when I want to, you shut up dumb bunny" he pressed your face into the pillow bt grabbing your neck.

"my pretty little bunny cunt, always tastes so sweet, no wonder steve picked you, this pussy was made for me " he showered your pussy with praises almost making you jealous. It was silly you thought how this man can turn you against your own pussy sometimes. "His pussy" you mentally corrected yourself.

" you can take me my pretty girl, your took me a million times before, are you nervous today is that why you're hesitant?" He whispered to your pussy, you would've almost thought he said those words to you, but you knew the difference between his sweet talk for you and his pussy.

"don't worry sweet girl, I've prepped you enough" he spit on your poor pussy, making it glisten , he used his fingers to push all the fluid inside your hole, he smeared some of it on his cock, before slamming into you, and your pussy didn't resist as he'd said. Traitor.

Bucky wasn't gentle, gripping your hips harsh enough to leave marks, he maneuvers your body in just the right way so he can thrust deeper. "There you go sweet girl, does my cock make you feel good, it's kissing all your right spots, i know, he missed you so much, my hands were never enough for him" fuck his dirty talk only made you wetter, if that was even possible, brought you to the edge. You thought he was gonna let you come but, he pulled out, leaving your pussy gasping for more.

"come on did you think I was gonna let you some so easily after the stunt you pulled bunny, no , I'm gona edge ya,over and over till you pass out , not gonna stop."

And he kept his word, bringing you so close to your release every time before he pulled out abruptly. He got his releases of course, he'd come in you so many times , he used his cum as lube to fuck you harder.

A few hours later, he finally decided to show mercy on you. "Come on my bunny girl, i think my sweet pussy deserves her reward for takign me so good ,let go for me, come for me "

Your walls clenched around him so tightly, scared he was gonna pull out again,but he didn't he let you have your release at boy it sent you to a state of pure ecstasy,you didn't even realise you squirted all over the sheets.

Bucky chuckled , pulling you into his arms, "you did so good for me bunny, so good for daddy, you made a mess , but you're gonna lick it off of the sheets like a good girl soon I know . You're so amazing, steve would be so proud." He pressed kiss to your forehead as you buried your face in his chest. This was home for both of you , two broken souls, who found each other. Credits to steve of course.

A/N : THIS is my first bunny hybrid fix btw! Do you need a prequel with more details about steve meeting bunny for the first time? Lmk.

[ramp-it-up]

Ties That Bind

Peach VII | Show Off

Summary: Steve and Peach have thier first fight as newlyweds.

Pairing: Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Dancer!Reader (Peach)

A/N: Not sure If I am correct about any element of shibari, but I tried. Really nervous. This fic is a Peach Fic and is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes after the events in Peach VII. Interaction is life! Let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Subari (I tried ) Peach Peaching, Steve is angry and scared, first fight. Allusions to violence, talk of pregnancy, mistaken identity, veiled threats. Trust is a major theme. Rope play, dominance, submission, oral, (f and m receiving), nipple play, spit play, ass play, reference to anal, rough, raw p in v, sensory overload, breeding kink, 'lil bit of knife play, aftercare.

I don't 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.

--------

You woke up before dawn, Steve’s arm draped over your waist and pulling you to him, his warmth wrapping around you and forming a secure cocoon.

You smiled as you gazed at his sleeping face, lightly brushing back the dark blond hair that had fallen over his face.

You were still tripping over the fact that you were Mrs. Steve Rogers.

He made you very happy.

These past few weeks were a wonderful whirlwind of love and affection. Steve was consistently attentive to you and gave you anything you wanted. 

And he was square with you about the realities of his life.

He, Bucky, Nat and Sam had made a lot of money, not only for themselves, but for the people they’d done business with. And some people were angry that it was over.

You heard that, but you didn’t listen.

And you’d left lots of loose ends in Atlanta.

There was Peach Preserves, your dance studio, and your students to think about. This was the preparation week for classes to begin again after the holidays, and you weren’t there to do your work.

Dance was your first love, and you didn’t want to give that up. Steve didn’t want you to either, he just wanted you to hire help and work out a schedule where you could have time together as a couple.

And then there was the question of where you would live, Atlanta or New York.

You were antsy to get back to Atlanta, but Steve wanted you to wait a couple of days longer to go down.

He’d distracted you the night before with some stunning cunnilingus, and a thorough rough fucking that you could still feel as you shifted in the bed. 

You bit your lip and smiled wider.

Being Mrs. Rogers had its benefits: Steve’s thick, stiff cock was top three. And it was always ready for you. That helped because you always wanted it. But he couldn’t distract you with that for long.

You were bound and determined that you were grown and that you could handle going to Atlanta by yourself. After all, it had been your city for almost 10 years before he came along.

It would be fine. And today was the day.

Before you escaped the bed, you let yourself revel in the warmth of Steve’s arms, daydreaming about letting him wake up, pull you close, press a kiss to your shoulder, and convince you, yet again, that waiting a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

It would be easy to just go with his flow. But you were you. You loved doing things the hard way.

You slipped from under his arm, moving slowly and carefully, barely breathing. Steve stirred but didn't wake.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, you dressed quickly. Your bag was already packed, tucked behind the closet door. You grabbed it, hesitating for only a second before leaving a note on the nightstand.

I’ll call you when I land. Love you.-- Your Peach

The rideshare to the airport was quiet, but your thoughts weren’t. You knew Steve would be upset when he woke up.

----

Steve reached out, fingers brushing the cool sheets where you should have been. His chest tightened before he even opened his eyes. He knew something was off.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat, scanning the room. Maybe you were making breakfast, or in the dance studio, but before he could go see if you were there, his eyes settled on the nightstand, and there it was.

A small piece of folded paper.

His heart thudded as he picked it up, unfolding it with fingers that suddenly felt too stiff as he read it.

Steve exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. Atlanta. You went. Even after everything you talked about, after he told you to wait, after he swore he’d go with you.

A slow burn of frustration and worry curled in his stomach. That feeling was rare before he met you. But then again, all feelings were rare before he met you.

Steve shook his head.

You thought you’d be fine. Of course, you did. That was just who you were, stubborn, independent. And that was why he loved you. But you didn’t know the danger, not like he did.

His jaw clenched as he reached for his phone. His fingers flew over his phone’s keyboard, and he took deep breaths to calm down. Then he went to his closet.

He needed to get to Atlanta.

-----

The second your plane landed in Atlanta, and you turned off airplane mode, your phone buzzed.

You really think you can just run off like that?

The message was from hours ago, when you were in the air. You exhaled slowly, gripping your phone as you replied.

I had to.

Almost immediately, three dots appeared. Stopped. And then appeared again.

You should’ve waited for me, Peach.

You closed your eyes. You could hear his voice in the words, low and growly. You loved him, but you weren’t quite willing to give up all of your spirit and independence.

The studio needs me.

A full minute passed. You didn’t move, despite others around you getting ready to deboard the plane.

I know that. But I need you to trust me. I need to be able to trust you. I need you to be with me, present in this marriage. Need you to be safe.

Shit, Peach, I just need you.

Your stomach was in knots. You didn’t have an answer to that. So you just said the only thing you could.

I love you.

The dots again

Love you, too. But this discussion isn’t over. 

Your heart started beating fast because you knew that he was coming for you. You knew he would never, ever hurt you, but you were filled with anxiety for what was going to happen when you saw him again. 

You locked your phone and got ready to walk off the plane, your heart pounding.

—--

The sun was setting by the time you pulled up to your townhouse, exhaustion weighing heavy in your bones. The day was long, checking in on your students, arranging for instructors and making sure the studio could run with you there day to day for a while.

You should have felt relieved. 

Instead, all you felt was restless. You missed your husband. Steve hadn’t texted again since you landed this morning.

You stepped onto the porch of your place, fishing your keys from your bag, when the hairs on the back of your neck rose.

That familiar tingle was there, the extra sense that alerted you to danger back when late nights at Regine meant dealing with more than just drunk men and bad tips. 

Someone was watching you.

“Well, well, well.”

You froze, fingers tightening around your keys. You knew that voice. 

You turned around slowly to find Sully leaning against his car at the curb, arms crossed and a smirk twisting his mouth. 

He looked the same as he did the last time you saw him, right before Steve forced him out of Regine. But there was something different in his eyes now. 

Your stomach flipped, but you kept your face neutral. 

“Sully.”

He pushed off the car, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps. 

“Heard you and Grant, or should I say Steve, took a little honeymoon.” 

His eyes dropped to your stomach, then back up to your face. 

“Didn’t take long for him to knock you up, huh?”

You didn't flinch or react at all, although you were confused.

“Now that you know who he is, you can probably guess that Steve wouldn’t take kindly to people showing up at his wife’s place uninvited.”

You hoped that Steve was really coming.

Sully laughed, a hollow sound.

“Is that so?” 

He tilted his head, watching you like he was trying to figure out how much of a fight you’d put up. He should’ve known from seeing you scrap a couple of times at the club. 

“See, I think Steve’s real good at running his mouth. All talk and no action. He let you come back here. Alone.”

You wanted to laugh out loud. Let this asshole fuck around and find out with Steve Rogers.

“What do you want, Sully?” 

You kept your voice calm and controlled.

His smile faded. 

“I want what I’m owed.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What are you even talking about, Sully?”

He stepped closer to you, and you didn't back away.

“You and that attitude, Peach. ‘S gonna get you hurt one day. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Your husband put me out on my ass, and now, I’m gonna return the favor.” 

His lips curled as his eyes swept down your body again.

“And since you’re carrying the next little Rogers/Barnes/Romanoff/Wilson prince or whatever, that makes you real valuable.”

Your blood ran cold. That’s what this was. Sully thought you were pregnant. He had you confused with your cousin. He thought you were pregnant and that was why you and Steve eloped. 

Idiot.

You weren’t about to set him straight and put your family in danger. Your fingers tightened around your phone, and you forced yourself to breathe evenly. 

“Sully, you’re making a mistake. Whatever you think you’re doing? It’s not worth what Steve will do to you.”

He stared at you menacingly for a long moment, like he was waiting for you to break. But he was going to have to wait a long time for that. You held his gaze. 

Steadily.

Then, slowly, he smirked.

“We’ll see about that.”

He turned and walked back to his car. You didn’t move until the taillights disappeared down the street. Then, with shaking hands, you pulled out your phone and typed.

Sully was here.

The read receipt popped up immediately. Steve always had them on for you.

Stay inside. Lock the doors. I’m almost there.

—-

The traffic around him inched forward at a crawl, horns blaring. Steve swore under his breath, his pulse hammering. He needed to move. Needed to get to you. But he was trapped, locked in place.

You were okay, you’d just texted him, but he was beyond frustrated. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel, frustration boiling over. Every second wasted in this damn traffic was another second Sully could come back. 

His mind raced through every possibility. He should’ve been there. Should’ve made you wait.

He should have tied you to the bed. 

A gap opened up in traffic. Steve hit the gas, weaving between cars, eyes locked on the road ahead. He was coming. And if Sully was still anywhere near you…

-----

Ten minutes later, the knock at the door was heavy and deliberate. You don’t even have to check, you knew it was your husband.

Still, you hesitated, but not really out of fear.  It was more like anticipation. You exhaled, steadying yourself, and unlocked the door.

Steve was standing there, his broad shoulders tight, and his jaw set like he’d been grinding his teeth the entire time you’d been apart. There was a backpack slung over one arm and his eyes flicked over you, scanning, searching to make sure you were okay. 

The second he saw that you were fine, something else surfaced in his gaze.

----

The door opened and relief hit him first, because you were there, standing right in front of him, whole and unharmed. But the relief crashed straight into the anger, the frustration, and the fear that had been eating at him the whole morning.

He was still struggling under the weight of every worst-case scenario still running through his brain.

Still, despite everything, when Steve’s eyes locked onto yours, he couldn’t deny that he was a simp because all he wanted to do was to take you in his arms. But something had to change.

Because at the end of the day, you’re his. 

You were standing in front of him, looking at him like you knew exactly what he was feeling. And that was the only thing keeping him from going nuclear.

----

You knew Steve was angry.

And it made you weak, wanting to supplicate for him and beg for forgiveness around his cock. But of course you resisted that urge and chucked your chin higher.

Steve never felt so angry and so grateful at the same time. But then he saw the glint in your eye and shook his head, almost wanting to laugh.

This is what it was going to be like married to someone as stubborn as he was.

He stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him. The space between you crackled like a live wire.

“Tell me what the fuck happened.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your hip meeting his stare head-on. Steve was angry and hard, ready to fuck you into submission.

But first he needed answers. You told him what happened, including the most important part.

“Sully thinks I’m pregnant.”

Steve’s entire body went rigid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a second, he didn't say anything.

Sully was threatening his family?

For half a second, the blood rushed in his ears as the adrenaline flooded his senses, and he had the urge to tear something apart. He had to consciously slow his breathing to keep from running out of the door after Sully.

“He what?”

“He thinks that’s why we eloped,” you said, keeping your voice steady. 

Steve turned away for a second, dragging a hand down his face like he was trying to keep himself from exploding. It didn’t work.

“He came here,” he turned back to you, eyes flashing, voice barely controlled.

“Because he thought you were carrying my kid?”

You nodded.

He stared at you before stepping closer. You were looking up at him, breathing his air, looking into those l blue eyes, with everything on you that could get erect standing at attention. This was going to be your first fight.

And what a fight it was.

“And you didn’t think to tell me the second it happened?”

“I did–”

“Not after, Peach," he interrupted.

“Not when he was already gone. When he was here. When you were standing face-to-face with the sonofabitch who threatened what was mine?”

“Steve, I handled it.”

“Oh. You handled it.” 

His hands raised to the sky and then raked through his hair, wild with frustration. 

“You think telling a man like Sully to fuck off is handling it?”

“I think if I’d called you while he was still here, you’d be dealing with a murder charge right now,” you snapped back.

Steve stared you down and you didn’t break eye contact. Neither did he. The air between you was thick, buzzing, and charged with frustration. You longed to put your arms around his neck and turn back time to the chalet. 

But the honeymoon was over.

Finally Steve took a slow breath.

“Sully needs to understand that he doesn’t threaten my family. Or his threat needs to be eliminated.”

Steve pulled out his phone without another word, already dialing. He paced the living room as it rang, muscles still wound tight. You watched him, fighting the urge to touch him.

His eyes were on you the entire time.

“You should’ve waited for me,” he said suddenly, voice quieter, but still railing, his anger simmering all over him. 

You exhaled, leaning against the table. 

“I know.”

He shook his head, not looking at you. His free hand gripped the back of his neck like he was trying to keep himself grounded. The call connected.

“Buck,” he said, his voice deadly calm. 

“We’ve got a problem.”

—--

Steve hung up the call with Bucky, his grip on the phone so tight you half expected it to snap in his hand. His jaw was clenched, his breathing measured, like he was barely keeping himself in check.

“What did he say?” you asked carefully.

“He’s on his way to get her now. Said he’d call me once they’re somewhere safe.” 

Steve finally looked at you, and the intensity in his eyes made your stomach flip. 

“I should’ve been here.”

You crossed your arms, lifting your chin. 

“And what? Sully shows up, you do whatever mafia thing you do, or worse, he does something to you and now we’ve got a problem and if you get killed or go to jail now, Steve Rogers, I will murder you.”

Steve moved closer to you, the space between you shrinking. 

“The problem is that you were alone. I wasn’t here to protect you. That is my one job in this life.”

You cocked your head and smiled at him, your heart wrenching.

“Baby. That is not your one job in life. You do lots of good work in the art world, with Rebirth…I can take care of myself, Steve.”

His jaw ticked. 

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then?” You held your ground. “Because as far as I can tell, I handled it.”

Suddenly, Steve moved, and although you expected him to come for you, he stepped past you, toward the door, his voice low and sharp. 

“I’m going to find him.”

Your reaction was immediate.

“Steve, don’t!”

He stopped at the door, his hand on the knob, thinking about tracking Sully down, and putting an end to this permanently.

“He came to this house. He threatened you. That is never going to happen again, Peach.

Steve's anger was controlled. Focused.

You stepped closer, and he could sense your strength, the kind of strength that always had the power to stop him in his tracks.

“Steve, I get it. I do. But you just got out of the life. You wanted out.”

He turned his head slightly, jaw tight.

“I did. Because of you.”

The weight of that settled between you.

Steve could feel the pull, the fine line between who he was now and who he used to be. The life he swore he left behind was still there, still waiting for him to step back into it. 

“Steve, Sully wants you to go back to that. You gonna let him win?”

Your fingers curled lightly around his wrist, grounding him, but he didn’t move for a moment. Then, his fingers relaxed on the doorknob. The storm inside him didn’t disappear; it shifted. 

His priorities realigned. He chose you over his rage. Always.

You two needed to work this out. Immediately.

You let out a breath, but you both knew this wasn’t over. He took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin, watching the way your eyes flickered with wariness.

“Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.”

—-

Steve led you to the bedroom with slow, deliberate steps, picking up his backpack along the way. His grip on your hand was firm, to keep you close.

When the door shut behind you, he turned, those clear blue eyes searching yours, a mixture of anger and something deeper. You were so damn nervous.

Who was this man before you with this dangerous look on his face that was pointed at you?

“You don’t listen, Peach." Steve was willing you to understand. “You think you have to handle everything alone.”

You lifted your chin, defiant as ever. 

“I can handle myself.”

Steve let out a slow breath, a smile tugging at the corner of hisn mouth. He stepped closer, his thumb brushing your lips.

“I know very well that you can,” he admitted. “But, baby, you don’t have to. Not with me.”

Your breath caught, as his hand slid to your neck, fingers threading through to your nape as he tilted your head back, forcing you to hold his gaze.

“I love you,” he said, and it made your stomach flutter.  “And I won’t ever stand by while you put yourself at risk.”

The look in his eyes was molten blue.

“If Sully hadn’t left,” Steve continued, his voice rough with emotion, “if he’d put his hands on you… what would you have done?”

You swallowed hard.

“I would’ve taken care of it,” you whispered.

Steve hummed, like he wasn’t quite convinced.

“You’re not invincible, Peach,” his voice was softer now. “And you don’t get to decide when I protect what’s mine.”

The way he said 'mine' sent heat curling low in your stomach and moisture pooling between your thighs. His lips brushed your forehead, lingering there, and your chest tightened at the sheer devotion in the act.

Then he turned, reaching for the bag. When he faced you again, a length of smooth, ivory rope was coiled in his hands. Your stomach flipped and your heart started racing.

“Do you think you can just do whatever you want?”

You held your breath as he uncoiled the rope, and you watched his fingers working it with practiced ease.

“Steve,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

His jaw flexed. His fingers paused on the rope. And then, slowly, he lifted his eyes to yours.

“Yes, I want you to trust me.”

You blinked up at him.

“I do trust you.”

Steve almost believed you as he looked down into your beautiful eyes. But then he shook his head.

“You didn’t this morning,” he said quietly. “You left without telling me. I need you to prove that you trust me to take care of you.”

“What do you mean?”

Steve stepped closer, jaw set.

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You searched his face for meaning and he gave you nothing. Butterflies rioted in your stomach as he moved behind you and his lips touched the edge of your ear. 

“Good. You’ll cum harder that way.” 

You gasped as your cunt clenched. You couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“I’ll what?” 

“I need to remind you what it feels like to let someone else be in control.”

He slid his hand up your arm and turned your head so you could look at him.

“You gonna let me?”

It wasn’t really a question. But he waited for your answer anyway, his gaze steady. 

Slowly, you nodded. Steve smiled.

“Good girl.”

You had visions of him inside you right at that very moment, but he interrupted your thoughts.

"Take off your clothes." 

The command was quiet, but it left no room for defiance. You complied, the air cool against your skin as you got naked for him, excitement building inside you from the way he watched you.

“You put yourself in danger,” Steve continued, his voice thick with emotion. “And you expect me to just let that slide?”

His stepped behind you and his hands moved over your arms, holding you close against his rock hard body.

“You are my world, Peach.”

He whispered it into your ear and you shuddered.

“Steve…”

“You were reckless with your safety,” he interrupted as his fingers worked the first knot, wrapping the rope around your wrists, securing them just enough for you to feel it, but not to hurt.  

Steve worked quickly but precisely, bathing you in tenderness, preparing each area with soft kisses before his ropes made the next pass. 

He bound your wrists behind your back, the smooth fibers digging in just enough to make you feel helpless under his control. He moved swiftly, looping the rope around your torso, cinching it tight across your chest, down your waist, framing your curves in a way that made you lose your breath.

You were surprised at how much this turned you on.

“What is this, Steve?” you breathed.

He leaned in, brushing his lips over your temple.

“I'm teaching you how to let go, my love.”

His hands continued their work as he held your gaze, and strangely as he tied your body together, it didn’t feel like a punishment. 

It felt like a lesson in trust.  And surrender.

Steve stepped back, taking in the sight of you. His eyes darkened with awe.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Your cheeks burned. Your heart pounded. You never felt more vulnerable. Or more seen.

Loved.

He reached out, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You swallowed hard and nodded and his thumb brushed over your lips.

“Good. Now relax, Baby. I’ve got you.”

You exhaled shakily, easing into the bindings. You felt better now. Safer, somehow.

Steve watched you, his gaze lingering on the way your body softened. His hands slid over the rope, testing its hold and making sure it wasn’t too tight on your satiny skin.

“Kneel for me, Peach.”

The deep baritone of his voice made your pussy clench, but you obeyed, sinking gracefully to the floor. Your breath caught as your knees hit the soft carpet, the vulnerability of the position sinking in.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

You did, and the sheer adoration in his expression made your chest tighten. His fingers skimmed over your bound body, teasing you, sending shivers racing across your body.

“Remember Peach, I’m doing this because I need you to know that you don’t always have to be the strong one.”

His hands moved over your back, tracing the rope, grounding you.

“You’re gonna feel everything I do, and you’re not gonna fight it.”

His eyes locked onto yours and you held his stare.

"...Okay"

Steve chuckled at your spirit. He loved the fuck out of you, but you needed this lesson.

“Good girl.”

Your eyes closed at the praise and he stepped back, his fingers once again skimming over your restrained skin.

“You’re trembling,” he observed, voice tinged with amusement. “Are you nervous?”

You swallowed. “A little.”

“Don’t be.”

He down beside you and leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder, then to the curve of your jaw.

“Steve…,” you whimpered.

“You trust me, right?”

His lips were against yours now.

You exhaled a shaky, “Yes" into his mouth.

“Then let me take care of you.”

He pulled away and his eyes held yours for a long beat, making sure you understood. His hands moved around your rope-bound ass grazing the ropes framing your thighs, the ones holding your pussy lips apart. 

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your aching heat.

“You're dripping for me already, Peach. Do you like being tied up?”

You were delirious with anticipation. But you didn’t know how to feel.

“No!.. Yes… I don’t know.”

He got down on his knees behind you as you tested the binds instinctively, your wrists straining just enough to remind you of your helplessness. The pressure was intoxicatingly restrictive and unrelenting.

You didn’t know that you craved this.

A warm hand slid over your stomach, fingers grazing the rope cinched tight around your waist. He pressed in, letting you feel the heat of his palm against your skin and the graze of his fingertips against your clit. Not to mention his hard cock pressed into your spine.

You bit back a moan as he continued, his touch slow and purposeful. Steve’s hand slid to your throat, his grip firm, but not choking.

"You are my wife," he said, enunciating each word with quiet intensity. I am responsible for your safety… and when you forget that?"

His grip tightened for a fraction of a second before releasing and trailing down your neck. 

"I will remind you."

He murmured against your ear, his breath making you wetter. His other hand gripped your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to him. 

"Do you love me?" he asked.

"Yes," you whispered, the answer spilling from your lips without hesitation.

"Why?"

You’d been broken down to the raw truth.

“I don’t know. So many reasons.”

You were trying to collect your thoughts which were scattered like leaves in the wind.

"I see you in everything," you whispered. 

"In every work of art, in every song that I dance to. I feel you in places I didn’t even know existed."

Steve’s smile was angelic.

"Do you remember when I first saw you?"

His teeth scraped the sensitive skin just beneath your jaw, a nip that made you suck in a breath and shudder. His lips curved into a wicked smirk against your skin.

You exhaled as your pulse quickened. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape the press of his body behind you and the overwhelming heat of him surrounding you just like the ropes.

"On stage at Regine’s?" you guessed, breath hitching.

"No," he said, voice rich with memory. 

"You were walking into the club, lost in your own world, bopping along to your music, completely unaware of me. You were gorgeous. Sexy. Free."

His hands traced the rope securing your thighs apart, squeezing just enough to make you whimper.

"I had to know who you were. I had to get you to notice me. And when you did?" 

He exhaled, like the memory itself was intoxicating. 

"I felt like the luckiest man on earth, Peach."

Your body sagged into his, relaxing even more, drawn in by the absolute possession in his voice.

"I can’t tell you how many times I’ve envisioned you like this," he murmured.

"What?" Your voice was barely a breath. "Bound and helpless?"

Steve chuckled, the sound rich and sinful.

"Sweetheart, you are far from helpless." 

You closed your eyes as his fingers traced slow circles over your inner thighs, where the rope dug into your skin. 

"And you shouldn't be in any pain."

His lips brushed your ear, his voice dipping lower, a promise wrapped in silk and steel.

"I think you're going to enjoy the hell out of this."

He guided you down, so that your cheek was on the carpet, eyes searching for his as he ran his hands over you again. The ropes made every sensation more intense, and you couldn't help the sounds coming from your mouth.

You felt his breath on your ass before you felt his tongue strike out to lick a stripe up the center of you as your body arched. You needed more.

A finger worked inside you, then two, scissoring and curling with a sinful knowledge of your body. Steve worked you over with his hand as his mouth played with your emotions. You were so close to release because every thought was centered in that direction.

But then his fingers withdrew and his warm mouth left your pussy.

You moaned in protest as he pulled you up by the ropes and moved in front of you, unzipping his pants.

Every sense was magnified and the sound of his zipper sent waves of your slick sliding down your thighs and blood racing to your nipples. You were oh so hard and wet.

His hard cock was ready and silky smooth, rolling over your lips as his musky scent surrounded you. It only made you want him more as you opened your mouth wider to taste him on your tongue.

Steve hissed, groaning as you took him deep in your throat.

"So good, Peach..."

He rocked into your throat, careful to let you breath as you concentrated to focus on this one thing. You were moaning around him, the pleasure that you were giving him close to getting you off as well.

He stopped pulled off the rest of his clothes, depriving himself at that moment. Again, he lifted you by the ropes onto the bed and handled your ass again, spread open by his handiwork.

"Remember when you trusted me to fuck you here?"

Steve spit on your asshole and rubbed his finger there as you writhed in your binds.

"Ughhhhh! Steveeeee."

You could barely form coherent thoughts as you shook beneath him.

Steve rubbed himself up and down the split of you repeatedly while you kept moaning his name. You were both very nearly insane as he let his cock rest at your entrance, pounding on your door to get in.

His fingers grabbed the ropes on your thighs, pulling you sharply onto his cock. And you screamed, cumming almost immediately with his first stroke.

"Holy fuck, Peach!"

Steve felt you coming apart around him while held together by the rope and he threw his head back as he set a beautiful pace in and out of you. The sound of skin smacking soundly onto skin lent depth to the pornographic sound of your screams and his groans.

And the ropes on your skin lent an extra dimension of sensation. You were intoxicated with feeling, bound up but feeling so free.

“So tell me, Peach…”

Steve bent over you and his fingers found your nipples and pinched, rolling them hard. It was so much that you nearly came again right then then and there. The next words sent you further into the brink.

“What happens if you get pregnant?”

Steve rolled his hips over and over again into your pulsing, clenching cunt.

"Oh, Steve.. fuck..."

“Who is going to protect you and my child from the likes of scum like–”

“Don’t, fuck, Steve, don’t say his name…”

It would ruin your high, thinking of Sully at the moment.

“Say it, Peach. Who is supposed to do that, Peach? Who’s gonna protect my family?”

Steve said it through clenched teeth, but you knew he wasn't just angry. He was scared.

“Answer me, Peach!”

“You would, I know you would, Steve?”

“Are you sure? You gonna let me? Gonna let me knock you up? You gonna trust me to take care of you?”

His pace was frantic, the vision of you pregnant and safe in his arms propelling him forward into the abyss.

Tears stung your eyes at the thought that he doubted you.

And they fell when you realized that you’d given him reason to.

“I do, I trust you Steve. I promise. I’ll let you take care of us. I swear.”

Steve slammed into you harder, holding you tight with each thrust. 

“Is that what you want? Do you really want me to do that?”

You just wanted to soothe the hurt.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you sobbed. 

“I want you. I trust you. I need you. I’m sorry!”

Steve’s thumb found your clit and rubbed your sparking bundle of nerves relentlessly, causing you to strain against the ropes again.

“Oh, Steveeee!”

You shattered into a thousand pieces, only to be held together by the rope Steve wove around you. He pulled out and stoked his cock over you, painting the exposed pieces of you with his cum.

You shook as each hot drop hit your skin, aftershocks rocking you as you found his lust blown eyes.

“F-fffuuuckkkkk!”

Steve was profane as he came all over you, lost to the feeling of your release and his. He reached in his bag again and brought out a knife and started cutting you out of your bindings, kissing and massaging each place on your legs that he cut free. 

He licked his cum off of you, paying special attention to your cunt, swiping you with his wide, flat tongue as he soothed your skin with his hands. 

When you came again, he moved on, cleaning you up and cutting you loose carefully and tenderly. The disparate sensations of his tongue on your skin, his hands massaging you, and the cold steel of the knife set you alight one more time, and as he sucked his spend off your nipples, you came again, untouched.

It was a perfect, tiny aftershock of pleasure.

—-

You opened your eyes to the harsher light of your bathroom, as Steve was lifting you with him into your garden tub filled with hot water. He cradled you in his embrace.

His hands, the same ones that had restrained you so firmly, now moved with infinite gentleness over your skin in the water, watching you closely for discomfort. 

"You okay?" 

His voice was low, quiet, and filled with genuine concern. You nodded, your limbs heavy, your body still floating somewhere between exhaustion and satisfaction. 

But Steve wasn’t satisfied with a nod. He tilted your face toward him, meeting your sleepy gaze, searching for any sign of discomfort.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," he intoned, thumb stroking over your cheek. "I need to know you're alright."

A small, tired smile tugged at your lips. 

"I’m perfect," you whispered, and it was the truth.

The intensity of it all, the way he had pushed you, claimed you, and him caring for you made you realize how safe he made you feel.

And that was the point.

Steve exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath, then pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. The contrast was stark, from restraint to absolute freedom, from domination to protection. 

You melted into him, feeling the steady, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. Suddenly, a bottle of water was produced from the side of the tub and you wondered how long you were out after you came.

“Drink. Let me take care of you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

His hands never left you, fingers brushing over you in quiet reassurance as you drank.

"You did so well," he bragged, his voice laced with admiration and pride. "I’m so proud of you.”

You got emotional. You drank half the bottle and put it down, turning in the bath to put your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest, seeking the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Stay," you asked, as if it were even a question.

Steve lifted your chin and looked into your eyes.

"Always," he promised.

[navybrat817]

Eye of the Beholder

Pairing: Bodyguard!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve is your beautiful bodyguard and he thinks you're beautiful, too.

Word Count: Over 1.7k

Warnings: Bodyguard trope, fluff, tension, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Anon requested for Bodyguard!Steve (who still does art) to dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff) with prompt #45 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You shuffled through your closet with an audible sigh. You had to make an appearance at a party tonight and still didn't know what to wear. It was ridiculous since you had a wide range of dresses and outfits to choose from, but your heart wasn't in it. Maybe because you didn't want to attend. You’d rather curl up and watch a movie as you fell asleep, but it was part of your job to socialize and look pretty.

You weren't going to complain when many out there had it worse.

“Why don't you get some rest instead of going through your closet? Again?”

You turned and stared at your bodyguard who sat across the room. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes, Steve Rogers was stunning enough to be a model. With his intimidating stature though, he made the right call by becoming a personal protection specialist. Easy on the eyes and built like a brick house, today he wore a tight blue shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and chest. He looked like the type of man who could toss you around if you asked nicely.

But seeing the sketchpad in his lap, you wondered if your paths ever would've crossed had he focused on an art career instead.

“You know you don't have to be here until tonight, right?” You asked, ignoring his suggestion as you shut the door. “Or do you like spending your time off watching over me?”

It wasn't your idea to hire a bodyguard, but you understood your agent’s insistence for you to have one. There were overzealous fans and creeps out there who wanted you. Ones who would stop at nothing to have you. All because you were a model. And while you weren't aware of any recent threats or danger, you needed someone like Steve to watch out for you.

Better safe than sorry.

But Steve himself? He was a pleasant surprise. You expected a stoic but polite man since he called you ��ma’am” with the most serious expression upon meeting you. The more time spent with him, you realized passion lurked beneath the surface. Beyond that, he was authentic. In a world surrounded by plastic smiles, fake talk, and people ready to knock you from the pedestal you never asked to be set on to begin with, he was a much needed breath of fresh air.

“Technically my next day off is two days from now, ma’am,” he gently corrected you. You could listen to him talk all day. “But day off or not, I don't mind spending any extra time with you.”

“Oh,” you said, your cheeks hot. You spent days around gorgeous people who didn't make you bat an eye or stutter, but any sort of compliment or kind word from this man always got to you. “Hey, haven't I told you not to call me ma’am?”

“You have. On more than one occasion over the last couple of months.” A smile touched his kissable lips. “I guess it slipped my mind.”

You leveled him with a cool gaze. “So, your eidetic memory is limited to visual aspects and not auditory memories?’ You asked.

His face lit up when he smiled. “You remembered that I have an eidetic memory?”

You pointed a finger at him. “Keep calling me ma’am and you’ll be out of a job,” you said, deflecting from his question.

He chuckled, not at all afraid of your threat. “You won't fire me,” he said.

It was true. Steve had lasted longer than you expected because you liked him. More than that, you trusted him. He was the kind of man who would lay down his life for you and also keep your secrets safe. Not that you had many, but you wouldn't hesitate to tell him anything.

Anything except how your thoughts about Steve were sometimes unprofessional.

“I guess I won't, but don't think I won't make you carry my clutch around if you keep that up,” you teased, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. Steve has been in your room countless times and it always felt a bit warmer with him there. “On that note, I’m sorry you have to go to the party tonight.”

At least you didn't have to bring a fake date. Lord, you couldn't stand PR stunts like that. You didn't judge those in the industry who did it since you understood why. It just wasn't for you.

Would Steve have been jealous if you did? Or would he have insisted that you go alone for your safety?

“Don't apologize. Where you go, I go,” he assured you, your heart swelling. You reminded yourself that it was his job to do that and nothing more. “Just give me the signal when you want to leave.”

Steve didn't just keep an eye on you for protection, but looked out for your well-being. He made sure you got rest when you were tired, food when you were hungry, and privacy when the crowd became too much. Your past boyfriends never paid attention or cared that much. Why was a bodyguard so concerned?

“Do you ever get tired of this?” You asked, leaning back on your hands as you regarded him. “Keeping an eye on me? Going where I'm going?”

He stopped sketching to look at you, his eyes sparkling with affection that you liked to imagine he reserved for only a select few. “I say with complete sincerity that not only am I not tired of being your bodyguard, but you’re the best client I’ve ever had the privilege of protecting.”

You were certain stars shone in your eyes. “You flatter me, Steve.”

“I only speak the truth.”

You covered your mouth when you yawned. “Flattery. Truth. You’re still good to me and I appreciate it.”

Steve sat up straight and put his pencil down, concern etched in his face. “You’re tired. I think you should take a quick nap while you can.”

The man had a bossy tendency at times, but it was for your own good. You waved him off anyway. You could sleep later tonight. It wasn't that big of a deal. “What are you drawing?” You asked.

“Take a nap,” he said again, his voice low.

You couldn't help but shiver. That kind of tone almost made you blurt out “yes, sir”, but you refrained. “You're drawing ‘take a nap’?” You asked instead, doing an inner cheer when his lips twitched in a smile. “Show me what it is and I’ll get some sleep. Just for you.”

“Just for me?” He asked.

“I think if anyone could get me to do anything without too much of a fight, it's you, Steve,” you said sincerely

He ran a hand through his hair and shyly ducked his head. “I can't say no to those eyes.” He brought his chair closer so you didn't have to get up. “But no insulting my work, okay? My ego can’t take it today.”

“Since your ego can't take it today, I’ll save the insults for tomorrow,” you giggled, but it stopped the moment he showed you the page.

It was a drawing of you.

You almost touched the page before you stopped yourself, not wanting to smudge it. The details were immaculate, down to your facial features and how you held yourself. You couldn’t say it was like looking in a mirror because you had never seen yourself look so beautiful, but it was still a reflection of you and something deeper.

He captured an essence that no camera ever had. One you didn't know you possessed. It was a tender and sensual story told through his eyes. Was this really how you looked to him?

“Steve, this is…” You lost your breath as you looked in his eyes. Where he had been shy a moment ago, he held his head high. Proudly. He should be proud of his talent. “It’s beautiful.”

“You're beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze a combination of soft and heated. A combination that made you lick your lips and set your heart ablaze. “It’s, uh, also not the first drawing I’ve done of you,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair again.

You saw color in his cheeks as you smiled at him. “You think I'm beautiful?” Plenty of people told you that, but you liked it more coming from him. It was an earnest sort of declaration without demanding anything from you in return. “And you have more drawings of me?”

Part of you hoped he drew you in intimate positions since you selfishly wanted him to desire you.

“You're the most beautiful person I've ever known.” Steve placed a large hand on your cheek and you didn't hesitate to lean in, your heart racing faster. Could he see your pulse racing in your neck? “And I do have more. Maybe if you're good, I’ll show them to you.”

Please.

You thought he was going to close the gap and kiss you, but a knock at the door made him pull away and reach for the gun in his holster. It was both sexy and disappointing to see him slip into his bodyguard mode. That was why he was there though. To protect you. Your safety came first.

“Steve?” An unfamiliar voice called from the other side of the door.

Steve’s shoulders relaxed, but he shook his head. “New guy. Doesn't know the knock yet. I’ll be right back,” he muttered, surprising you by brushing his lips against your forehead. “Lay down, please. I need you to get some rest for both of us.”

You watched him walk to the door and waited until he grabbed the handle to answer. “Maybe you can join me. Sir.”

The muscles in his back tightened, his gaze dark as he glanced back at you. “Be good,” he growled, leaving the room quickly. It was a sound you hadn't heard before.

Giggling, you flopped back on your bed. Steve drew you. He thought you were beautiful. He desired you. At least, you hoped so. Now the question was, how long would you stay at the party tonight before you picked up where you left off?

And would you behave?

I hope I did this justice. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[softlypaintedseafoam]

23:59

synopsis. march 2, 23:59. 1 minute and counting until his birthday has passed.

pairing. vinsmoke sanji x f!reader

word count. 0.4k | masterlist

content warning. timestamp (happy birthday sanji), established relationship,written with this reader in mind (this fic can be enjoyed without it), fluff, plus-sized reader in mind (but read as you like)

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

i wasn't initially planning to write anything for sanji week because i already have wips i'm working on... but i figured why not? the straw hat chef deserves a little something for his birthday and it's his week!... technically another gift for @hash-slinging-slasher-trash leave me alone hehehehe

There's little time that remains of Sanji's birthday.

March 2, 23:59.

1 minute and counting until another birthday has passed and the cook is 1 year and 1 day older. You press into Sanji's side with a satisfied sigh, too tired to do much else but too awake to sleep like the blonde next to you. He might share his birthday with three others but there is only one Black Leg Sanji to celebrate on this day.

Brook and Luffy led their dynamic rendition of the Happy Birthday song, Usopp fashioned a fantastical tale of the great Sanjiland even Zoro's usual quips were a touch kinder.

Only a touch.

Then there was you, the only Sanji even remotely trusts in his kitchen. You were on kitchen duty; who lets the birthday celebrant cook on their special day, after all.

"I can't wait until next year," you murmur, fingers carding through blond hair. "Next year, I'll take you to the All Blue. Hopefully." Never mind that that had been your hope for this birthday.

Everyday is a step closer to the One Piece; sadly it hadn't been this year.

"But next year is going to be the year it happens," you vow loosely, half-expecting this to be what you'll say Sanji's next birthday. "We'll have found the One Piece. That's probably where the All Blue is, you know. Roger just didn't talk about it before because he didn't know how important it was." Or maybe he wanted to leave that a surprise too. You're sure that's what your captain would insist. "No one wants to go on a boring adventure, after all."

Next year you'll find the final island and you'll see Sanji's eyes light up like a thousand cut gems like he's a child all over again. "It's real," he'll breathe, grinning ear to ear. "I told you it was real," he'll swoon like you ever doubted him for a second. It'd be real; Sanji said it would be.

"And if it doesn't exist, I'll make it for you," Somehow with your small hands and your non-existent fishing skills. You'll find a way to weave the ocean into something more connected than it already is. In world full of monsters and unknown seas, anyone can make miracles happen. "Even someone like me, right Sanji?"

When you feel a hairy arm tighten around your waist, you nearly jump out of your skin. "Hey, how long have you-" there's a sleepy grunt followed by a soft snore and you giggle. "Never mind, you," you press a light kiss on Sanji's jaw. "Keep on dreaming," a yawn passes through your lips. Just keep on dreaming.

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Sweetheart

Steve Rogers x Reader feat. Avengers

Summary: A simple game slowly leads to a lifetime.

Warnings: a few swear words, some very hot scenes, fluffity fluff, mutual pining, mentions of nomad Steve specifically his hair and beard (yes! that's a warning), reader wearing Steve's hoodie (also a warning, gets me every time, and yes I did write a whole fic about it Hoodie)

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: I wrote this with a female reader in mind but I think it works for any gender, there are no pronouns used and no use of Y/n, Steve calls reader sweetheart.

Everyone was drinking and having a good time. Tony remembered something he had seen earlier in the day and decided now was the best time to bring it up.

"Y-You know it's weird how fasc-cinated the public is with us" He slurred, waving his scotch around and spilling it slightly.

"How's that, Tones?" You questioned while blinking abnormally fast.

"I saw a-a thhhing on my phone, said vote on each 'venger's best look"

"Like Nat's 'I'm gonna kill you so bad' look?"

"No, ap-pearanceses"

"Ooooh, that's kinda strange, isn't it?"

"What?" Stephen asked as he flung his head up, only hearing the word 'strange'.

"Not you, Dr Otter" You and Tony replied at the same time followed by a small exclamation of acknowledgement.

"It's like a quiz" Tony continued.

"What?" Clint asked.

"The thing I was just talking about"

"Oh, right. A quiz?"

"Yeah, wanna do it?"

"I don't know, I'm not good on tests"

"It's not- It's opinions, not right or wrong"

"Okay, shoot"

Tony cast his phone to the large TV in front of everyone and started the quiz.

"What is the le-legendary genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Tony Stark himself, 's best look?" He read off the screen.

"You always look pretty much the same" Nat stated.

"First one, little scruffy" Steve said simply.

"Yeah, his hair's cute when it's floppy, like you could run a hand through it and it'd still look adorable" You agreed.

"Adorable? Drunk you is pretty honest, this is gonna be fun" Tony smirked "Natasha Romanoff, the fierce woman of the avengers"

"Oh God" She sighed.

"The half red half blonde, super cute, especially in a braid" You smiled at her.

"I'd have to agree" Bruce added.

"Next, The God of Thunder and long hair, what's Thor's best look?"

"Ooh, the short one!" You exclaimed.

"How dare you?! That was not consensual!" Thor boomed.

"Sorry sweetie, but you've got to admit, it was hot"

"Pfft!" Loki laughed out.

"Did you just go pfft? You don't pfft" Bruce turned to him.

"My brother is not that hot"

"I think Happy's shirt would beg to differ" You counter.

"What about your mug?"

"I don't know what you are referring to"

"The mug that has 'This meeting would be a lot better if one of you were Loki' written across it"

"Oh, that mug. That and Happy's shirt were gag gifts from Tony, like Cap's Cap cap"

"Pardon?"

"Tony got Steve a cap with his Captain America logo on it, so it's Cap's Cap cap"

"You mortals are pointlessly confusing"

"Alright next question, speaking of Gods, Loki the God of Mischief and sexiness has great hair as everyone knows but what look suits him best?"

"I am beginning to like this quiz after all"

"Christmas tree" Nat states blankly.

"I am not beginning to like this. What do you mean Christmas tree?!"

"In New York, your hair had the outline of a Christmas tree. Don't look at me like that, they put tinsel in it" She points to you and Sam.

"ThAt WaS yOu?!"

"He dared me!"

"You said dare me to put tinsel in Loki's hair, I didn't do shit"

"Until I had the tinsel"

"Well it was already there"

"By the great heavenly kingdom of Valhalla I swear I will-"

"Tony, why don't we just move onto the next question?" Steve tried to diffuse the situation before Loki turned everyone into frogs, again.

"The question we've all been waiting for, the most gorgeous avenger, Bucky Barnes!"

"He's the most gorgeous?" Nat asked, a twinge of jealously in her tone.

"You're way prettier than Bucky" You reassured her.

"Hey?" Bucky lightly hit your arm.

"She is" You shrugged.

"Stevie, who's prettier?" Bucky looked to his friend.

"I don't want to choose between my friends"

"Come on, Captain"

"Uh, um.....neither"

"What?" They both blurted out in shock.

"You are" He said softly as he looked into your eyes.

"Th-thank you" You blushed.

"Of course he picked you" Bucky grumbled.

"And last but certainly not least, the very handsome face of the Avengers, Steve Rogers"

"Nomad Steve" You spoke a little too quickly.

"Really?" He asked you.

"Uh-yeah"

"Oh I toootally agree" Sam responded "That slightly long hair, a little unkept"

"And that beard" Bucky agreed.

"And the way he looks like he could just pin you up against a wall and-" You saw everyone looking at you and Steve's face covered in a bright red blush "I'm oversharring again, aren't I?"

"Yes" Bruce said, sitting in the corner, just a little mortified.

"I think that's enough for the night, I'm going to bed" You almost beckon from halfway down the hall already.

You thought that would be the end of the topic, after a while you didn't really think of it at all. Not long after, Steve had to go on a mission and boy did he have a surprise for you when he got back. The mission lasted about a month and you were really beginning to miss him. One evening you opened the door to your room and felt something behind you, someone. They pushed you into your room and slammed the door shut, they spun you around and you saw that it was Steve. You lit up instantly by just seeing his face, he had grown his beard back and his hair was a little messy and longer. Just as you were about to open your mouth to compliment him on the new-old look he pushed you against the wall, no, he pinned you against the wall. He held your wrists tight by your sides, you saw the look of desire in his dark clouded eyes. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, moving fiercely and hastily, full of passion and lust. As he pulled away he bit your bottom lip lightly, causing you to let out a soft whimper. The sound almost making him drop his tough exterior.

"This what you wanted?" His voice was deep and rough, making your body quiver.

"God yes" You breathed out shakily.

He transferred his grip on your wrists to your waist. He lifted you like you were nothing, like you weighed less than a feather. You wrapped your legs around his hips and grasped his neck in your hands, clinging on and keeping him close. He held you up against the wall as he continued kissing you roughly, deeply. You could feel your stomach aching, your whole body was aching, for him. He could feel the heat radiating off you as he trail open mouthed kisses down your jaw and it was addictive. You tilted your head back and to the side, giving him better access to your neck. He found that soft spot under your ear that made you moan so sweetly and his lips latched on. He sucked and bit marks that were sure to turn bright purple and he ran his tongue back over the spot gently, soothing your inflamed skin.

He kept up this pace, kissing and sucking and biting and licking all over your neck and upper chest. You tugged on his hair, rough enough that it made him bite your shoulder, hard. The sensation of his teeth sinking that far into you made you throw your head back even further and let out an almost primal, animalistic moan that just spurred him on all the more.

His fingers dug into your hips, certain to leave bruises you would admire for days. He pulled you off the wall and sat you on your dresser.

"Y-you know" You began, your words near breathy moans at this point "The bed's over there"

"Soon. First I want you on every surface possible"

His tone mixed with his words made your breath hitch, you could've sworn your heart stopped for just a moment. One of his hands came up and ripped your shirt off. He tossed it to the side and you toyed with the hem of his. You pulled it up slowly, running your fingers over the taught muscles of his body. You pulled the shirt over his head and when his hands returned to you they were on your thighs. His lips flew down your neck and to your chest. He kissed every inch of you within his reach, the feel of him all over you, hot and wet. He undid the top button of your pants and lifted you again. Your hands moved from his neck and discarded your pants on the floor. He carried you to the couch and laid you down. He hovered over you and you scrambled for his belt.

"Uh uh, not yet" The teasing in his tone made you squirm under him.

"Well that's not very fair is it?"

"Life's not fair sweetheart"

He continued his mission, his mouth was all over you. He moved down the couch, sitting between your legs. It was quite a sight, Steve Rogers, Captain America, America's golden boy, situated between your legs, looking up at you with the gaze of a starved animal. He took one of your legs, started at your ankle and kissed his way down. The contrast between your silky smooth skin and his rough scratchy beard made you grateful to be alive. He moved tantalisingly slow, never breaking eye contact for a second. It was like your eyes were tethered to stare at each other forever and you wouldn't have it any other way. You looked down past your heaving chest to see your knee slung over his shoulder. His chest was pressed up into the back of your thigh, pushing your muscles just right. His lips went so low, so close, so far down your inner thigh and he pulled away. The bastard pulled away. You never would have thought he'd be a tease. He did the same to your other leg, starting at the ankle and working his way almost all the way down. He laid down, his shoulders under both of your legs and he got so close. He kissed your lower stomach and he moved down. Finally, you thought. He kissed over the top of your underwear, taking the waist band in his teeth, pulling just a few inches away and releasing it, flicking against your body. He pulled even further away, devastating you.

"Steve" You whined "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Watch out or I'll have to put that dirty mouth of yours to good use"

"Please do"

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating through you and sending shivers down your spine. You kissed him again, this time soft and sweet, full of the love you had been hiding for so long.

He pulled away and stared down at you, at your beautiful face. He meant what he said that day, he thought you were beautiful, so beautiful it hurt. It hurt when he saw you get all dressed up for galas and charity events in those fancy clothes that fit your body so well. Or when you'd go out to clubs with Nat and Sam, those two always dragged you out, trying to get you to meet someone but you were never interested. For so long it had only been Steve. Wearing something outrageously short for the '40s like Steve was used to, but you looked amazing, you looked amazing in anything. He remembered the first time you trained together and you wore skin tight workout gear, he barely made it through the hour. But his favourite, his absolute favourite, was when you had just woken up. When your hair was all messy and your eyes were only half open. You'd say good morning in a raspy voice full of sleep and you'd smile at him so softly he thought he'd melt. All he wanted was to see that smile and hear that voice every morning for the rest of his life. One day was just, he didn't know quite what. It was an oddly chilly morning for that time of year and all of your winter clothes were packed away. You looked through the freshly washed laundry you had done the day before and you found a blue hoodie, it looked so comfortable and soft and most importantly warm. You pulled it on over your head and it fell halfway down your thighs, just covering the pyjama shorts you were wearing. You walked down the hall and into the kitchen like you did every morning. You greeted Steve and he greeted you back before noticing what you were wearing. It looked like you were wearing his hoodie, only his hoodie, nothing else. He blinked for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, trying to speak but not knowing what to say. You reached up to grab a mug off the top shelf and the hoodie rose up. He didn't want to look, no that was a lie, he thought he shouldn't look but he couldn't help himself. When he was met with the sight of your shorts you could say he was more than a little disappointed. You turned around and saw him staring at you.

"What?" You laughed "I can't have something in my teeth, I haven't eaten yet"

"I-is that my hoodie?"

"Oh, that's who. I'm sorry, it was in my laundry and I was cold. I can give it back"

"No you look nice. Nice and warm" He only just caught and corrected himself.

"Thanks"

He didn't know it yet but ever since that day, whenever you were feeling sad you wore his hoodie and it comforted you more than anything else.

He brought himself out of his memory haze and back to now, to you. He saw you looking up at him, wondering what he was thinking. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Sweetheart, you've been so good, it's time for your reward"

He picked you up and you latched onto him once again. This time he finally took you to the bed. He laid you down so soft and gentle like he was handling something so precious, he was. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and his finger trailed down your cheekbone. His hand moved back to cradle your head and his thumb caressed your cheek so lovingly. His usually innocent blue eyes stared into yours, boring into your soul. The two of you truly connected, in a way neither of you had with anyone else, only each other.

You woke up the next morning, in his arms. You couldn't believe you were finally where you had dreamed of being for so long. In fact you actually pinched yourself, just to be sure. You couldn't help but smile even brighter when you looked back up to see him looking down at you. This was one of those moments you'd experienced so many times before. It took you completely out of the moment and you noticed just how pretty he really was. His eyes, full of so much hope and joy matched with pain and sadness. His eyes, full of time, years of time and he wanted to spent the rest of it with you. He laid on his back, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. His right hand was snaked around your waist, even in his sleep his grip never faltered. You laid on your left side, your cheek on his chest, snuggled up to him. Your right hand was laying across his body, tracing random patterns slowly.

"Morning" There it was, there was that sweet, soft, raspy voice he had longed for.

"Morning sweetheart"

You giggled slightly at the pet name, your pet name. He called you that because to him, that's what you were. You were so sweet he thought he'd get a cavity. You always did whatever you could for others, sometimes they knew and sometimes they didn't. Like the way you helped Bucky. When he first came to the tower he only had Steve, Tony was still upset with him and after hearing what had just transpired the rest of the team weren't very welcoming. But you were different. You trusted Steve's judgement and you welcomed Bucky. He stayed in Steve's room for a while, still too scared to be alone in a tower full of people who didn't much care for him. You decided the best way to get to know Bucky and hopefully help him was to get to know him in a setting he felt comfortable in. You brought a sleeping bag to Steve's room and explained your thinking. Bucky was offered the bed and the couch but he still chose the floor, so you joined him. Steve was in his room with the door open and you and Bucky were in the small living room attached. He was by Steve's door and you kept you distance, trying not to crowd him by sleeping on the other side of the room. He curled up and faced away from you. You heard him gasp for air as he came out of a nightmare. You slowly approached him and took his flesh hand in both of yours. You were gentle but your grasp was firm, reassuring him that he wasn't in his nightmare. Steve got up and came to the door but you shook your head and he stepped back. He trusted you too and he knew that you had a lot of experience with nightmares, you helped him after all. You slept with Bucky on Steve's floor for a month, until Bucky was ready to go to his own room. You slept on his floor for the first night, then you returned to your own room, next door. Sharing a wall, you were able to hear when he had a nightmare and you always came and sat with him like you did that first night. Thankfully, after some time, the nightmares were a rare occasion for him.

Steve loved how you cared for his friend, for everyone. He was the only one who noticed the small things you did. One of the simplest but kindest being whenever you would go to the grocery store you would buy a box of pop-tarts, a dozen plums, a bag of decaf coffee and a punnet of blueberries. Pop-tarts for Thor because he ate them at an alarming rate, plums for Bucky of course, decaf coffee because it always worried you how much coffee Tony drank, so you would replace it with decaf whenever you had the chance, and blueberries also for Tony, he liked having a snack while he worked and they distracted from the coffee.

There were other little things you'd do that just made Steve fall for you even more. If someone had a tough mission you'd cook their favourite meal for dinner, perfectly, and if their suit was torn you'd sew it up. They didn't ask you to or expect you to but you'd just take it and return it to them, fully mended and cleaned. Whenever you noticed his pencils were getting short or his sketchbook was getting full you'd go to the little store that had the supplies he liked. You wouldn't make a fuss about it, you usually just left a book and a box of pencils on his bedside table. And God, did he love to draw you. The first time he tried he obsessed over it, wanting the sketch to be as perfect as you. After a while it became almost mindless, if he didn't know what to draw he'd find himself drawing you.

He looked down at you now, lying in his arms with a huge smile on your face.

"I love you" It just slipped out, he meant it, he did love you but he didn't want to scare you off. He panicked for a moment when you didn't respond.

"I love you too"

He sighed a huge breath of relief "You know you're everything to me, right?"

"I do now"

You brought your hand up to his cheek, you thumb ghosted over his lips.

"You call me sweetheart"

"I do"

"Why?"

"Because you're so kind and giving, you always put the team first and you're well, sweet. Like with the pop-tarts and plums"

"You're the reason"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw your face when I got you a sketchbook or when I got Bucky plums, you know, small things. I saw the way you looked at me or at least the way I hoped you looked at me and I wanted to see that look again"

"Really?"

"Why else do you think we have plum pies every other week? Or enough Pop-tarts to feed an army, or I guess Thor for a couple weeks"

"You did that just to see me happy when I was watching you?"

"Yeah" You said nervously, hoping he wouldn't think you were quite as pathetic as you felt.

"God, I love you"

He pulled you into a kiss and you could feel his smile against your lips.

Tags:

@impetusofadream @goldfishthegr8 @avengers-official-recruit-agent @goreygirl03 @xenasolos @sparklyturtlefox @rios-sythe @nekoannie-chan @ilovemarvel12 @hayneyney @n3ponen @8812-342 @everyonesfriend @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @aliljaybird @yelldontwhisper @justhereforthememesnangst @lonely-core

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Watchers Anonymous

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, skinny!Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Loki, Curtis Everett, Jake Jensen, Cole Turner, Captain Syverson, (so far)

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for each of the above. This is our introduction to the group.

Summary: men with illicit infatuations come together to share and plot their perfect fantasies.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Introduction

"Do you really think we need snacks?" Jake asks as he unwraps the pan of rice crispy squares with sprinkles and chocolate drizzle. "I didn't think so but my aunt gave them to me," Peter shrugs. "I don't know."

"You're aunt?" Jake scoffs. He might be a loser but he's no mama's boy.

"Yeah, I mean, I usually go to bingo with her on Wednesdays but then this came up and... I had to make an excuse. I told her we were campaigning," he shrugs. "So she said, oh I'll make you boys some snacks..."

"Right," Jensen crosses his arms, reassured that he's not the lamest one in the pack. Not so far.

"When's that buddy of yours showing up?"

"Curtis? Oh, he said he wasn't sure," Jake shrugs. He hopes he has a friendly face there but he understands if it doesn't pan out. They all have places they'd rather be.

"Kinda nervous, not gonna lie," Peter confesses. It was his idea that they all meet up but now he's kind of regretting it. Strangers on the internet, on discord of all places, aren't necessarily the trustworthy type. He figures he's on there though and he's not that bad.

"Well, you seem chill," Jake offers. "So..."

"Thanks, I guess," Peter huffs.

There's a scuff at the door. A skinny blond stands in the doorway, looking down the hall behind him. He smooths his hair with his sweaty hands, slightly trembling. "Buck," he calls out in a voice deeper than one would guess by his appearance. "Down here." "Yeah, yeah," another replies behind the tramp of thick treads. "Looking for a john in this place. Shouldn't have had coffee."

"Oh, uh, Steve?" Peter greets uncertainly, "if I have that right?"

"That's me, yeah." He clears his throat and faces them. His nose is too big for his face, like a beak. The rest of him is tiny. He makes Peter feel big. Just like his special one... they'll get to that in a minute.

His friend catches up to him. Stood right behind him, he looks massive. Peter knows him too. Virtually at least. 

"And Bucky?" Peter adds. The other guy grunts and nods.

"This all?" Steve looks around at the mostly empty room.

"There's food?" Bucky wonders as he combs through his long hair. "Wasn't aware this was a catered event."

"Just snacks," Peter insists. He doesn't need any more hazing. Next time, he'll leave May's baking at home.

Steve wrings his hands before tucking them into his pockets. He chews his cheeks as Bucky heads for the snacks and greets Jake. There's more voices coming.

"Brother, don't be so grim," the large blond enters buoyantly, "it's about time you made some friends."

"I have friends," a slither returns dully.

"Ah, it is Peter!" Thor booms, not needing any introduction, though Peter wonders how he recognises him. "And let me guess, Jake with the glasses. Bucky has the shaggy hair like a dog, and Steve is slighter in frame."

"How..." Jake mutters.

"It is a gift of mine," he proclaims, "I'm Thor in case you couldn't guess. Oh and this," he pulls the other man forward and slings his arm over his lithe shoulders. "Is my brother, Loki."

Peter considers the uninvited sibling. Not as tall as his brother, or thick, and with sleek black hair and a long nose. They don't look related at all.

"I didn't know we were bringing plus ones," Bucky chews on a tart.

"Me either," Jake says.

"Oh, I do hope you don't mind. I wanted to invite him to the chat prior but... he is not often on the phone."

"It's fine," Peter assures, "I guess."

Bucky grumbles with less optimism and Jake sways. It's not exactly a gaming group or wholesome in any manner. Outsiders aren't safe.

"Relax, he has a special one," Thor girds. "Haven't you, brother?"

"I told you to mind your business," Loki retorts and gets only laughter in return.

"Jensen," a man enters without hesitation and marches to aforementioned man.

"Curt," Jake greets him with a nod, "you made it."

"Not thanks to... you!" He spots Thor and squares his shoulder. "You know, that truck is too big for your skillset."

"Ah, yes, it is only a ding, we will exchange info after," Thor rubs his neck with a guilty smile.

"Who are we missing?" Steve asks.

"Sy?" Jake suggests. "Don't think anyone else could make it."

"I'm here!" A sudden scramble through the door ends in a heap on the floor. The group of men turn to face the newcomer. "Urgh, ow." The man lays on his back after his slip. "I'm okay!"

He sits up and rubs the back of his head. Bucky tuts, "smooth."

"I'm--" the man pushes himself to his feet, "Cole. Ugh, I had to drive all the way here-- well, I know we all did, but, just not used to city roads."

"Cole," Peter is the first to approach, it's strange being the one doing most of the leading. Especially among this bunch. "Hey, nice to meet you. Peter."

He goes around the room and introduces everyone. Cole repeats each name anxiously. A sole squeaks through the door and a throat clears. A burly man with a baseball cap and scuffy bear wears a canvas jacket in grey camo.

"Sy," he intones as he enters. "Oh, are those brownies?"

"Right, that's everyone," Jake declares. "So, uh... what now?"

[anonymityisfunwriter]

I Can See You

"And I could see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission..."

Summary: You and Bucky don't see eye to eye, everyone knows that. They don't know that you and Bucky once knew each other under very different names. And they most certainly don't know that when he looks at you, he can still every stolen moment, his jacket on the floor, notes saying meet him at midnight, you up against the wall with him. No, they don't see that at all. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist | Anon's 1K Celebration

"I already told you, I'm only doing this because I owe you."

Six months - that was your promise.

Six months of your time and best efforts.

"And as a part of this favor, you promised to keep an open mind."

And an open mind, you begrudgingly recall. You promised you would keep an open mind about making this a more permanent placement.

Nick Fury was sure that you'd find a home here in the Avengers Compound.

You were fairly certain that you wouldn't - but you weren't going to tell him that.

You hated owing people. Nick Fury even more so. You could bide your time for six months to pay your debt to him. He didn't need to know you had no intention of becoming an Avenger. "Whatever you have to tell yourself, Nick."

"That doesn't sound like an open mind," he admonishes.

You smirk, enjoying the frantic hustle and bustle of the Avengers Compound with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, "You know that I don't do well in teams. I don't play fair, Nick."

"Never heard that one before."

"But I bet you believe me, don't you?" you retort.

"Open mind."

You roll your eyes, waving him off, "Yeah, yeah, when exactly do I get to meet these self righteous assholes?"

"How does now sound?"

"Like my worst nightmare," you mutter under your breath.

If he heard you, he doesn't let it show. Nick flings the door to the conference room open, revealing two men standing beside each other poring over a case file.

It's not their impressive statures that catch your attention. In fact, the blonde one hardly catches your eye at all.

And if you weren't highly trained and disciplined, a gasp would've lodged itself in your throat at the sight of the brunette you never thought you'd see again.

"Ah, Nick told us we might be meeting you today." The sandy haired super soldier extends his hand out to you. It doesn't escape your attention that the brunette snaps the file shut the moment he sees you. "I'm Steve, Steve Rogers."

You return the gesture, still barely paying attention to the man. Your eyes flicker to Bucky. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was entirely unfazed by your sudden reappearance.

You're thankful you do know better. You know so much better. 

Bucky's eyes meet yours for a split second, they narrow slightly. It tells you everything that you need to know. You've caught him off guard.

Steve takes Bucky's silence as his cue to interject. He clears his throat, gesturing to his friend, "And this is Bucky Barnes. He's a, well, he's a man of few words."

Apparently, that hadn't changed since you knew him under an entirely different name.

"It's nice to meet you," you say to Steve. Your eyes flicker back to Bucky. His jaw ticks as a wide grin pulls at the corners of your mouth. He's worried that you'll give away his dirty little secret. Your eyes flash over to him, a mischievous gleam that Bucky doesn't miss, "The both of you."

Steve smiles at the change in your demeanor, "Nick filled me in about your little deal. Exactly how long is this trial run going to run?"

"Six months," you confidently reply, unabashedly staring at Bucky. "I'll be out of your hair in six months."

"But we're keeping an open mind, aren't we?" Nick urges you again.

You playfully roll your eyes, a beaming grin on your face, "Of course, Nick. You know, I don't know why, but suddenly, I get the sense that these next six months are going to be a hell of a lot of fun."

"That's an interesting take," Steve lilts.

"She's your problem now," Nick quips.

"Me? A problem?" you gasp in mock offense. You turn to Bucky, who's still yet to say a word. "Do I look like a problem, Bucky?"

Bucky's eyes narrow again. The muscle in his jaw ticks yet again. You swear you can almost hear the sound of his teeth grinding. It's almost enough to make you laugh.

The silence is palpable as Bucky glares at you. Steve nervously laughs, taking a step closer to you. He gestures to your duffle bag, "How about I show you were you can put your stuff down? We'll give you a chance to settle in and you'll meet the rest of the team first thing in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan, Captain."

"Just Steve is fine."

"See?" You call over your shoulder to Nick. "I'm already having so much fun."

You're not surprised that he came to find you minutes later. If you're right, he waited just long enough to make sure he wasn't being obvious. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to feel his lurking gaze far before you see him. "I can see you."

"Why did you lie?" Bucky furiously demands, standing in the doorway of your new bedroom.

You grin to yourself, still turned away from Bucky. "Nice to see you again, Soldat."

"Bucky," he firmly states, his hands curling into tight fists. "My name is Bucky."

"If I recall correctly, you liked when I called you Soldat." You turn on your heel, taking several steps toward Bucky. He knows he should stop you. He knows he should stay as far away from you as possible, as far away from your bedroom as possible. And yet, there's a side of him that wants nothing more than to feel you close to him all over again. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't push you away. Not even when you're close enough to touch him. "Or did it sound better when I whispered it in your ear?" You lean in, your voice dropping to a soft whisper in his ear, "My Soldat."

He does his very best to suppress the shudder that rolls through his entire body. It takes him a beat longer than it should to regain his senses and take a step away from you. He demands again, "Why did you lie?"

You chuckle, finally stepping away and allowing him his space, "Would you prefer I tell your team mates about your history of getting a little too close to your enemies?"

"What makes you think that they don't know?" Bucky challenges. 

You languidly shrug, "We'll call it a hunch."

"I'm not that person anymore." Bucky takes an angry step forward, desperate to convince you that he's a changed man. "I don't keep secrets anymore."

"So tell them," you offer. "What do I care?"

"You cared enough to lie," Bucky shoots back.

"If you want to let your team know that we used to fu-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. I'm not that person anymore," he repeats himself. This time, he's not sure who he's trying to convince.

"Then we shouldn't have any problems, should we?" you rhetorically ask.

His eyes narrow, his gaze sharp and ready to kill, "What are you up to?"

"Me?" You gesture to yourself, resting your hand on your chest. "I'm not up to anything. Come on, Soldat, don't you trust me?"

"No, I don't because I know you, and you're always up to something," he bitterly accuses. "You've always got an angle."

"I assume you're talking about that day."

"You sold me out."

"You'll never see, will you?" You roll your eyes at him, waving him off, "I'm simply doing the favor that was asked of me."

"Six months?"

"Six months. And no one will ever have to know. Unless, of course, you can't help yourself."

He scoffs, "That won't be a problem."

"History has a tendency to repeat itself, Bucky," you state, putting an extra emphasis on his name.

"Not this time. Here's how this is going to go." He reaches out, snatching your wrist. His grip is tight enough to force you to pay attention, but not enough to actually hurt. "I'll stay away from you, and you're going to stay away from me. Got it? Let's just - let's keep this professional."

A grin spreads across your face. Your eyes flicker down to the burning grip on your wrist. You like that, even now, even after all these years, you still have an effect on the man you once called yours. "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm as reformed as you are."

That's exactly what worried him.

The months passed as quietly as Bucky could ever bring himself to hope.

Still, you never quite let it rest, never let him rest.

You always had a way of letting him know that you could see him. You could see how he was struggling to contain himself, struggling to suppress every flashback, struggling to simply keep his eyes off of you, struggling to contain all the feelings that he denied he felt for you.

He wondered if you knew that you kept him up all hours of the night. There were so many nights he spent sleep evaded, wondering what would happen if he just knocked on your door. Would you be up waiting for him? Would you smirk that smirk? The one he'd come to love and hate all at once. The one that was haunting him. The one he saw every time he close his eyes.

It wasn't just at night. It was every night. Every day. Every waking moment that you danced somewhere on the outskirts of his awareness. Every time you brushed past him in the hallway. You had to know you were driving him to the brink of madness. 

Sometimes, you barely acknowledged him. Sometimes, you gave him that infuriating smirk. Every single time, he saw it. Every single time, he saw you.

That part of his life was, for lack of a better word, scrambled. And still, he could never forget your touch. That part was crystal clear.

And he couldn't decide whether he loved or hated the fact that it might just be you doing that to him.

It ate at him.

It was a special gift you possessed, he had to admit. You could make him see whatever you wanted him to see, the power to ensnare his senses. The good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. You had the power to do it, to make him see whatever you wanted him to. He told himself that's what it was. It wasn't remembering a long lost love, it was you messing with his head all over again. 

He'd see flashes of the time you spent together once upon a time. His jacket on the floor. Up against the wall with you. Those old, crumpled notes telling him to meet you at midnight. He remembers every second of it. 

But most of all, you. He remembers every whispered sweet nothing. He remembers the anticipation he felt every time he saw you. And he remembers your touch. Your lips on his, trailing down his jawline. Your fingers running over the planes of his chest.

Deep down, he knew it wasn't your powers. It was you. There was no forgetting a touch like that. No forgetting a person like you.

It just another way you tormented him. So few ever escaped the Winter Soldier. Even fewer lived to tell the tale.

Not you. You not only lived to tell the tale, you taunted him with it. After that very first night, where he was, you were. He was never quite sure if it was glorious happenstance or your own doing.

Your very first encounter, you caught him totally off guard - something previously thought impossible. He didn't see you. He didn't hear you coming. He didn't feel you slip past him to reach your target before he ever could. All he remembered was hearing footsteps in the dark street. He knows for a fact you could've disappeared into the night without him ever knowing. He whirled around, searching for the culprit. He saw nothing, no one. 

It should've been quick, an easy kill. Instead, it was the first time he ever failed.

To this day, he swears that he heard your whispered laugh when he realized his target was gone, vanished into the night.

You showed yourself the second time. He was more prepared that time. Not ready for it, but more prepared. The first time his vision failed him, he sprayed the room with bullets.

"Uh, uh," you condescendingly tutted, allowing him to see you standing before him. "Can't get rid of me that easily, Soldat."

He saw you standing before him for a short moment, just enough to memorize your face. And then he lost all sight. You stroked his cheek, he remembers that. It was the first time you ever touched him. It was the most tender touch he'd felt in decades.

When he regained his senses, you were gone. Along with his target. 

The third time, he caught you - or you allowed him to catch you. He wasn't quite sure.

"Who are you?" he demanded, pinning you against the wall.

"Poor, Soldat," you cooed at him. It confused him. There was no fear in your voice. For some reason, he knew that if he released your arms from his iron grip, you wouldn't punch, scratch, or claw at him. You wouldn't fight back. You'd taunt him with your touch all over again. And for a reason that was more unknown to him, he really wanted you to. "They truly tell you nothing."

His sight was gone, but this time, he refused to let go. He gripped your wrists hard enough to leave bruises, pinning them over your head, "Let me see you."

"Say please." There it was that taunt that he knew would come. There was a lilt to your voice he'd never forget. In that moment he knew, he was powerless against you and your whims.

"Let me see you. Now."  He grips you even tighter. For a long moment, he still saw nothing. All he could feel was your body pinned against the wall, pinned against him. He softly exhales, his breath dusting over your lips, "Please."

He thought he memorized your face the first time you allowed him to see you, but he was wrong. There was so much he missed. He missed the slope of your nose. How soft and plush your lips looked. The mischievousness shining in your brilliant eyes.

He studied your face again. Over and over. Forcing himself to commit every detail to memory. Your smirk melted into the warmest smile he'd ever seen you wear.

You lean into him, as close as his grip will allow you to. So close that your lips linger a breath away from his. For a moment, he thinks you're going to kiss him. Instead, you speak softly, your breath skating across his lips, "I like you, Soldat. We're going to have fun."

His heart still stuttered. At the time, he didn't know what you meant.

He learned quickly after that.

It was the definition of a whirlwind romance - or as close to a romance as two assassins could possibly get. Long nights spent beside you. Jet setting across the globe for missions, just waiting with bated breath in the hopes that you'd be there. You never talked about what it meant, what you felt, all you had were those nights. Somewhere in those nights, he stopped being Soldat, and he started being your Soldat. 

So was it you? Were you the reason he could still see it?

Or was it him? Was it the fact that he could never really let those nights go?

He was a different person than the one you knew all those years ago. He was on the straight and narrow. He stayed out of trouble. You were the epitome of trouble. You sold him out the moment it was convenient for you. So why can't he let you go?

You caught him off guard when you showed up here. He was determined to make sure that didn't happen again. He just needed to be on his best behavior.

He knows you've been watching him - but he can see you, too.

You make a point to brush past him in the hallway on the way to the conference room. He thinks you can't see it, but you've been watching him closely.

You can see the waver of his Adam's apple, the way his eyes dart in your direction when you pass him, the way his jaw ticks shut as if he were doing his very best to contain himself.

Your days here on the Compound were dwindling down to your last few weeks. He still couldn't figure out why he couldn't let you go.

Even as he sits across the conference room table, you overwhelm each and every one of his senses. You pretend like you don't see him taking the seat directly across from you. Instead, you lean closer into Sam.

Sam grins at you. "So you can show me anything?"

"Anything," you promise, driving Bucky mad by using that torturous smirk on Sam. 

Bucky's not sure what Sam sees. It could be anything. A powder white beach on some far off coast. A meadow filled with fragrant, vibrant flowers dancing in the daylight. You could make him feel like he was plummeting to his death. You could make him feel loved for the first time in his life. You could let him know a betrayal like no other. 

He shakes away the runaway train of thought, focusing on the far off look in Sam's eye and the look of wonderment painting his face, "Whoa..."

"Bucky," Sam calls, his voice filled with laughter as you use your gift like a party trick. "Come try this! She's like a human VR."

"As tempting as that is," Bucky sarcastically remarks, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'd like to get this meeting over with."

"Alright, team," Tony calls out, beginning their latest team meeting. "Fury added another assignment to our docket. Black tie, intercepting a black market intel deal. You get in, you get out. Should be easy enough."

"Whatever you say," Bucky mutters under his breath.

"Barnes," Tony smirks. "I'm so glad you agree. You're up."

"What? Why?" Bucky demands. 

Tony nonchalantly shrugs, "Because I said so."

"Asshole," Bucky grumbles.

Tony's eyes flicker over to you next. In that moment, Bucky freezes. There's no way Tony know about the two of you, but it certainly feels like Tony's doing this just to punish him. "And you can take the human VR with you."

"No," Bucky sharply refutes, gripping the table so tightly he's sure Tony will have to get a new one. "I go, I go alone."

"Sorry, Barnes, we'll need more than brawn to get us into that gala."

Six months. Almost six months passed and he'd done everything in his power to avoid this. To avoid being alone with you. To avoid working in close proximity to you and the aura of temptation and betrayal that shrouded you.

The number of favors he now owed to his teammates was proof of it. He had no interest in testing the limit of his will power. "Then, I'll take Wanda."

Tony crosses his arms, shaking his head and looking far too pleased at Bucky's discomfort, "Nope, she's needed on a different assignment."

You smirk, tongue running over your teeth like a predator watching their prey fall into their trap. "Careful, Bucky, I'm starting to get the sense that you don't want to work with me."

Bucky's eyes dart to you, grimacing at you, "Whatever."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun."

"Bucky," Steve starts, tightly gripping his shoulder as the room filters out. "What's the problem?"

Bucky glowers at you as you saunter out of the conference room. Of course, you're far too pleased with this outcome. You make a point to grin at him as rage rolls off of him. "I don't trust her."

"Why? She's never given us any reason not to."

"Because -" Bucky starts, faltering after only a word. He can't bring himself to say why. That was between you and him. A memory he buried long ago. "Forget about it."

But he remembers. All of it. He remembers the moment you betrayed him and broke his heart all too well. 

"My Soldat..."

He sighs in relief, he finally stops pacing the floor of your safe house. You asked to meet days ago and you had yet to show up. Weeks had passed without hearing from you. You'd never gone this long without making yourself known. Finally, here you were, back in his arms where you would always belong,"It's been too long. I was beginning to worry."

"Don't ever worry about me, my Soldat." Your words are sharper than he's ever heard from you, it shocks him. You caress his cheek, fingertips trailing down to his jawline, your words soften to a gentle whisper, "Don't ever worry about me."

He bends down and kisses the palm of your hand, "I will always worry. For you, I will worry for as long as I live."

You smile, resting your hand over his beating heart. That's why you were doing this. You made deals with people you hated, resigned yourself to a life always looking over your shoulder, and sealed your fate, all to keep his heart beating, all to give him the long, happy life he deserved.

"And for that, you'll always be my Soldat." You kiss him with everything you have left. Your last kiss. A goodbye kiss. Because if you loved something, you set it free. If they came back to you, they would always be yours. And now, you were setting him free. And he would never forgive you for this. He would never be yours again. "And that's why it had to end this way."

"What are you talking about?"

You back away from the window of your safe house, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

And that's when the SHIELD agents swarmed.

It was a moment hard to forget. Yet it was equally hard to remember, to remember why he didn't trust you, to remember why he could never allow himself to let his guard down, not when you were so good at taunting him. He was sure you were taunting. He knew it from the very moment you stepped into the armory in a red dress that nearly stopped his heart.

You make it a point to saunter past him, tossing a laugh over your shoulder, "Don't worry, Soldat. I'll be on my best behavior."

"I won't hold my breath." Flashes of old memories race through his head. This time, he's sure it's you. His eyes snap up to you with a glower, "You said you were going to be behave."

"I said I was going to be on my best behavior," you correct, making a show of picking out your knives for the night. "This is pretty much as good as it gets."

"That's what I was worried about," Bucky sighs to himself.

"Lighten up, Soldier. It's my last night, I'd like to have just a little fun."

"Last night?"

"That was the deal."

Bucky's eyes dart away from you as you lift your leg up. The fabric of your dress slides up as you strap a small dagger to your holster. He knows you're doing it on purpose to rile him up. That's not what worries him. What worries him is if you're not doing it intentionally. If you're not trying to get his attention and he's just so viscerally aware of you that he can't stop thinking about you. That's what worries him. He doesn't trust himself enough to be this drawn to you. He clears his throat of the knot forming, "So you're not staying?"

"Why? You gonna miss me?" you tease. He remains silent, his eyes unflinchingly forward. "Let's not kid ourselves, Bucky. You didn't want me to stay. Too risky - I might ruin your squeaky clean reputation."

He's absolutely certain that you're the only person that's ever referred to his reputation as squeaky clean. "You're really leaving?"

"It's okay, Soldat."

"I told you not to call me that," Bucky snaps. He's aware that his self control is slipping minute by minute. Every second in your presence is a test of his restraint.

"Do you still remember? Can you still see it in your mind? Or do you need me to show you?"

"Stop." He barks the second a flash of the memory starts playing in his head. He can see himself tossing his jacket on the floor in a frenzy. "That's enough."

You smirk that damned smirk at him again. His fist clenches tightly, the knuckles of his flesh hand white with strain. "You're thinking about us right now, aren't you?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to push the image out of his head, he frantically shakes his head, "Stop it."

"Do you want to know what I'm thinking about?"

"Not particularly," he rasps.

"Liar."

He clenches his jaw so tightly that he's worried he might break a tooth or two as he desperately tries to hold onto his last ounce of self control. He's fighting a losing battle. "I'm not a liar."

"So what would you do? If I touched you right now?" You rest your hand against his chest. "If I got just a little bit closer?"

He hopes you can't hear his heart stutter. "I - I wouldn't do anything."

"What if you knew they would never find out? If we were so quiet and we didn't make a sound?"

"It wouldn't change a thing."

"What if I told you I remember it all? Every night. Every mission. Every time you kissed me."

"I-" His voice falters. Now was his chance. This was it, whether he wanted you to stay or go. Would you stay if he admitted that he never stopped thinking about those stolen moments? Or would you betray him all over again and laugh in his face and smirk that damned smirk with pride at bringing him to his knees? He can't put his finger on it, but in this moment, he doesn't care. He'll take the chance. He swallows the knot in his throat, "I would tell you I remember all of it."

Your hand twitches against his chest. "What?"

"I remember every second. I'll never forget any of it. I could just never figure out: Was any of it real?"

"Can't you see, my Soldat?" Your hand skates past his collarbone, up his throat, coming to rest on his cheek. Your hand caresses him with a tenderness he thought he would never feel again. "It was always real. Every moment of it."

"Then why did you do it?" he softly exhales.

"I had my reasons."

He lunges forward, and in the blink of an eye, he's gripping your wrist and pinning it to the wall behind you, "Tell me."

You grin wildly. You've been here with him before. "Arrogant as ever, Soldat."

"If it was real, why did you do it?" he demands, flexing his grip.

You lick your lips, momentarily debating whether or not to give him the truth. It ate at you for years. From afar, you could live with the knowledge that he might always hate you for what you did. Watching the conflict warring in his eyes was an entirely different battle. You figure, of all the things you could give him, the truth would at least give him some sense of peace. "It wasn't safe."

He loosens his grip slightly, "I would've protected you."

"It wasn't safe for you."

His eyes flash open. "What?"

"You were my mission, Bucky," you finally confess. "There was never anything else - anyone else. It was you. Only you."

He lets go, the shock sending him staggering. Your hand skates down the wall, but he doesn't move back to allow you the space to move. "You were sent to kill me."

You tilt your head at him, "I clearly failed."

"That doesn't explain why you betrayed me."

"Someone found out about us."

He shakes his head, his eyes storming with anger, "No, we were careful."

"Someone knew. I got a nice gunshot in the back to prove it. They knew I wasn't going to complete my mission. They knew I was never going to kill you. I wasn't going to lead them right to you. I didn't know who was watching. I wasn't - I wasn't going to gamble your life until I was sure that they were all gone."

The realization dawns on Bucky almost immediately. Sure, you were one hell of an assassin. Sure, your powers were beyond belief and could take down even the most heinous villains. But not even you could singlehandedly take down the crime syndicate you used to work for. An organization almost as massive and pervasive as HYDRA was. That's why you put yourself in Nick Fury's debt. You did it for him. "That's why you owed Nick Fury. That's why you sold me out." 

"As twisted as it sounds, you were safer in SHIELD's custody. The moment I knew you were safe and in custody, I killed each and every one of them."

His voice is hoarse as he speaks, "You should've told me."

"I wasn't going to risk your life just so you wouldn't think badly of me."

"Then why did you come here?" he demands. "If you had no intention of telling me the truth, if you were going to pretend, why ask to come here?"

"I didn't ask to come here. I didn't know you were here. I stopped looking for you some time ago."

"Why?"

"I dug deep to finish what they started. And once I tore them down brick by brick, I needed to rebuild. I had nothing left. It took me a while to resurface."

"Oh." There's a tightness in Bucky's chest at your confession. He never looked for you. He though you betrayed him. Up until now, there was no reason to believe anything else. You rebuilt your life on your own. You had no one, nothing left. You were left all alone. He left you all alone. 

There's a strange look in Bucky's eye when you finally look up at him. There's a lightness you haven't scene in quite some time. "What?"

The corner of Bucky's mouth twitches up. You may not have known, but Nick Fury sure did. "Fury knew I was here. He knew where he was sending you. He knew about... us?"

"I assume he figured it out when I came to him, begging him to help me keep you safe."

A shaky exhale dances across your lips. Bucky closes the gap between the two of you, pressing you up against the wall with him. "It was real."

For the first time in a long time, you touch him. You rest your shaky hand against cheek, your fingers ghosting over his lips, "Finally, you see, it was real... my Soldat."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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

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[thezombieprostitute]

Your Champion: Introductions

Summary: Former boxing champion Steve Rogers gets a new life as a collector for the mob.

A/N: Inspired by a tag I received from @alexakeyloveloki

A/N2: Part of the Yours AU.

Warnings: Implied abuse, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any! There will be non/dub con later in the series.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know" is one of the biggest truths in Steve's life. He was in and out of trouble pretty much every day of his life until he met up with Fury. Fury got him off the streets and into the ring. He became a champion. And he couldn't be bought.

That's how he met Bucky. Bucky was an up-and-comer in a new gang that was steadily building power. He'd made a lot of money betting on Steve. He regularly bet on him when he'd learned that Steve was approached by other gangs, trying to rig the match, but had thrown them all out on their ass. Bucky respected that.

Unfortunately the representatives of those other gangs didn't care for how they were treated. Steve was ambushed, taking a major beating, and a couple bullets, that left him unable to ever fight in the ring again.

When he was healed up, Bucky offered him a job as a collector. Easy money, easy work, and he'd be taken care of. Nick liked that Steve was a man of integrity and approved the hiring. Steve was the one that took some convincing. Only after he was shown how Fowler was investing money in actually taking care of the community, that protection money actually got people protection, did he agree to the job.

Soon he learned another benefit of the job: he could punch bullies and abusers without reproach.

Which is how he met you.

Your father was a gambling addict and a thief. If you'd ever had anything of value it'd been stolen and pawned off to fuel his bad habits. Every penny you made working at the grocery store had to be spent on food and bills before he remembered it was payday. If he even thought you were holding out on him he'd fly into a rage. You couldn't afford any more hospital visits so you had to give him what he wanted.

You were making your nightly meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a small yogurt, your biggest meal of the day, when the door suddenly burst in. You screamed in surprise as your father shouted and started to get out of his recliner. He'd barely gotten out of his chair before he was pushed back down by a tall blond man. You curled up into a ball, too scared to do anything.

"You owe Fowler a lot of money," the blond tells your father.

"I can pay it, I promise! I've had a lucky streak---" Your father is cut off by a backhand to the face. You whimper as you see the blood from his split lip.

At the sound the blond turns to you. "Who are you?"

You manage to stutter out your name.

"You his girl?"

"His daughter."

"You want her? Take her!" your father is quick to add. "Take her to pay off my debts!"

You don't have time to register your father's words before the blond punches him so hard the recliner falls back. You start crying out of fear, covering your eyes, wishing you could just be invisible like you were to everyone else.

The blond crouches down so he's eye level with you. He's cooing, "it's okay. You're not in trouble. You're not gonna get hurt here. He'll never lay another hand on you, I promise." He takes your hands away from your face and gets a good look at you. "You work at Pete's grocery, don't you?"

Surprised, you can only nod.

"I've seen you working there," he confirms. "You work hard. Lotta hours from what I hear." Looking around the meager apartment he looks back to you, "I'm guessing he gambles it all away?"

Again, you can only nod.

He holds out his hand to you, "I'm Steve, by the way. I'm going to make sure you never have to worry about anyone like your father ever again."

Next Chapter

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[pahtoosh]

Meeting Dada

[image ID: steve rogers smiling. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~450 words

warnings: baby is very nervous

a/n: i just wanted to post something little before dropping my mega stucky fic hehe. this takes place in the baker universe BUT we have to pretend that the events of baker's convention didn't happen, because i want steve to be an artist instead of a baker now hehe.

pairing: baker!bucky x gn!little!reader (future stucky x little!reader)

summary: you're about to meet your baba's "special friend"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

You and Bucky walked hand in hand to the quaint little bookstore. It was a nice, neutral spot for you to meet your Baba’s “special friend”. Bucky paused to check in with you before opening the door. 

“You ready to go in, pumpkin?” He asked. 

You looked away before answering. “Um, I need another minute please.”

“Of course, baby. Let’s step over here.” Bucky led you to the side of the building where you had more privacy. He crouched down to your level, taking your smaller hands in his and rubbing soothing patterns. 

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. “S-sorry, Baba.”

“Hey, hey. None of that. You have nothing to be sorry for, my baby. Nothing at all.”

You nodded, still trying to overcome your nerves. 

Bucky gently held your face, letting you nuzzle into the palm of his hand. 

“You know, honey. We don’t have to do this. Not today, not for a long, long time. Nothing’s more important to me than my baby, okay? You come first. Always.”

“Really?” You asked. 

“Really.”

You opened your eyes, searching Bucky’s gaze for any doubt. What you saw was love, honesty, and hope. Your Baba would never lie to you—you knew that. But he would put his own happiness aside for yours. Bucky wanted this meeting to go well more than anything in the world. To have his two favorite people get along meant everything to him. While you knew he would wait for as long as you wanted him to, you also knew that his heart would break a little more each day. 

He’d told you all about the friendly blonde who walked into the bakery one day and stole his heart. According to Bucky, he was kind, funny, and an amazing artist. More importantly to you, this new “friend” made your Baba happier than ever before. He was perfectly happy with you, of course. But Steve managed to fulfill a space in Bucky’s heart that he didn’t even know existed. When he wasn’t working or playing with you, he could be caught smiling at his phone like a giddy teen. He even messed up a batch of cupcakes because the arrow that Cupid struck him with kept getting in the way. 

“I wanna go in.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure, baby?”

You nodded. 

Bucky grinned, unable to keep the happiness within himself. “Okay, but you tell me the moment you wanna leave, alright?”

“I will, Baba.”

You took a deep breath before pushing open the oak doors. As you scanned the room, you were met with a familiar set of blue eyes and one of the warmest smiles you had ever seen.