#STEVE ROGERS X OFC

[innorogers]

Lull

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: So this is when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.

Warning: Fluff / SMUT / MINORS DNI / 18+ / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia

You slipped through the streets like shadows, holding hands, hearts racing, eyes darting over your shoulders, every sound amplified by the silence of the night. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – or ‘Magic Stark-Potter Thing’ as Steve was calling it – had granted you some safe time. But time was fragile, and you both knew it.

Your powers pulsed beneath your skin, guiding Steve with quiet certainty. You could feel the city’s pulse, see through the walls, and peer into the hidden corners of every alley. You led him down paths that no one else knew, invisible threads pulling you toward safety. The streets, immersed in late hours after midnight, stretched before you like the remnants of some secret map.

When you reached a narrow street swallowed by the night, you knelt down and moved a pile of old garbage cans aside, revealing a small, grimy basement window. You glanced back at Steve, and gestured for him to follow you down.

Turned out to be an underground club, and the party was just getting good.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke. Neon lights painted the walls in erratic colors—electric blues and deep reds—while people shouted over the pounding music, their laughter swallowed by the deafening noise.

You exchanged a look with Steve as you pushed through the crowd. His usual composed demeanor flickered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene while staying close behind you. You weaved through the press of bodies, brushing against strangers lost in their own worlds, music vibrating through your bones as you both made your way to the other side. It felt like a different universe—one that was wild, loud, and completely unaware of the chaos lurking outside its walls.

“I need a computer!” You raised your voice so he could hear.

“I really don’t think you’ll find one here.” He almost laughed, holding your waist and waving through the people around you as you moved forward.

“I know.” You tilted your jaw. “But that’s perfect, look.” You pointed to the computer they used as a register to take orders. “An older one, probably. I need to enter an untraceable code; our network is probably compromised, so I need to notify the only being who can’t be hacked or corrupted.”

“Really?” Now he was intrigued. “Who?”

“Vision.” You continued to scan the place as you moved through the dancing crowd. “These machines won’t work, they’re plugged into their private network. I’ll need something connected to the outside. C'mon… let’s go to another floor.” It was a huge underground bar, so you held Steve’s hand and moved to the stairs.

“I think we’ve got company.” Steve tightened his grip as he noticed some guys entering the floor. They looked like military—tense poses and sharp, alert eyes scanning the place. He looked up and saw more of them on the floor above, near the exits and moving through the whole place.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time. I think there’s some gear on me that’s making us trackable.” You hurried with him to go down, but stopped when those military men started coming from downstairs. You pulled him aside, hiding in a dark corner, but they weren’t leaving. Steve’s figure—tall, handsome, blonde—was too easy to recognize. A lot of women (and men) were looking at him with flirtatious eyes, intrigued.

You passed by corridors and stairs full of people, using your powers and his sensitive perception to navigate the space. The men didn’t notice you were there, but their eyes were everywhere.

You felt Steve’s body tense beside you, ready to attack at any moment, and the place would turn into hell if that happened. You cupped his face, pulling him closer to the wall, your eyes scanning behind him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you…” You smirked as the men passed by, and with your hand on his neck, you kissed him deeply.

Shit. Steve’s body went rigid.

This was the worst place and the worst time, but somehow, it felt so right. He’d almost forgotten how much he needed this. The moment your lips met his, your body pressed against his, the scent of smoke and debris clinging to you from the chase. But your kiss, it grounded him—reminded him why every risk was worth it.

He kissed you in the flicker of shadows, under the flashing lights, in a dark corner of an underground club. Drunk, dancing strangers moved in their own ecstasy, oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, but then again, you always brought the unexpected. And again...How could you ever think he’d choose anyone else over you? Over this?

He deepened the kiss, pinning you to the wall, his tongue brushing yours, and it felt so right… you tasted like sweetness, laced with something wild, like sin and salvation entwined.

“Steve…” You broke away, eyes still on the men as they passed, and he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist. You grinned. “I really don’t think this is the time…”

“Well…” He chuckled, voice rough. “I think it’s the perfect time for this.”

“Come on. Let’s move now that we have the chance.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before starting to move.

Taking advantage of the lack of enemies in sight, you made it to the last floor through doors and hidden passageways and arrived at what seemed to be a VIP room.

“There we go.” Your eyes locked onto a computer next to a more sophisticated bar. “That’ll do.” But as you approached, Steve’s senses sharpened, picking up the tension of a threat.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw a group of men—tall, armed, and bearing the unmistakable faces of movie villains. Why do they always look like the bad guys? He sighed, slowly rolling up his sleeves. Well, it was about damn time. He had been holding back this feeling of wanting to punch someone ever since a bomb exploded near your car.

“Mmm?” You turned back and noticed the surroundings. The only guy who had been on a date at a corner table rushed out with his partner as soon as the room filled with the approaching men, circling both of you. He was even polite enough to close the door behind him.

“Oh.” You blinked at the 1, 2, 3… 15 men surrounding you.

“Gentlemen, there’s really no need for this to escalate…” You advised as the tension thickened, movements slowing to a crawl before the inevitable first strike.

“Shut up, doll. We’ll take care of you later.” Said the man who seemed to be their leader, smirking at you. “And believe me, you’ll be well attended.”

“Oh … you really shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, already sensing Steve’s fists clenching in response.

“Sir, you’re about to get the smash of your life…” You spun just in time to grab the bartender’s hand as he reached for a weapon beneath the desk, a fight breaking out behind you. “Please don’t do that.” You blinked at him. “I just need to borrow your computer, okay?”

“Um…” The bartender, startled by your strong grip, noticed the Avengers logo on your gear and quickly reconsidered. “Um… this thing runs on Windows Millennium. Like…Yikes.” He gestured at the ancient machine. “Don’t you need something, I don’t know, more modern?”

“It’ll do, thanks.” You hopped over the bar counter and began typing. “If it doesn’t send Vision a signal, it’ll at least ping him with a virus warning.”

The moment Steve moved, the air shifted.

The first punch landed with the force of a freight train, sending one of the goons crashing into a table, shattering glass and upending chairs. Chaos erupted in the room as fists and bodies collided. Steve ducked under a wild swing, his movements sharp and precise, retaliating with a brutal uppercut that left another attacker sprawled on the floor. Damn, this is so boring. A punching bag in the training room felt even heavier.

One of the armed men lunged at him with a knife, but Steve twisted to the side, catching the man’s wrist and flipping him over with ease. The crack of bones echoed as the thug hit the ground hard, and Steve was already turning, launching a swift kick into another man’s chest, sending him crashing through the VIP room’s thin partition wall.

“Babe, you got that?” He moved his head, avoiding a knife—or whatever sharp thing was coming from the back—grabbed the guy by his arm, and twisted it like a towel.

“Just a sec.” You were typing the commands as bottles clinked and tables flew across the room, the thumping bass from the club floor below barely audible over the grunts and crashes of the fight. 

“Just… okay, there.” You turned to the bartender: “Do you want me to upgrade this system for you?”

The bartender wanted to answer, but suddenly bent over as a guy was thrown and hit against the wine cellar. He covered his head and screamed, so you raised your eyebrows and took that as a no.

With only three men left standing, they hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with each other as if silently deciding who would make the first move. But that took forever, and Steve was getting bored. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him down onto the tables, the impact scattering bottles and glasses across the floor.

Before the next guy could even react, Steve spun, delivering a swift elbow to the second man’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over with a deafening crash.

The last man, clearly outmatched, pulled out a gun in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Steve was faster. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, dodging the shot, and surged forward, ripping the gun from the man’s hand and delivering a bone-crushing punch to his gut. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, before Steve finished him off with a knee to the face, leaving him crumpled on the ground.

The room was now littered with unconscious bodies, shattered glass, and overturned furniture.

“Wow…” You said in awe. “You didn’t even sweat.” You were thinking that he sweats more when he’s in bed with you.

And he laughed, thinking the same: “I’m saving that for later.”

Just as the dust was settling and Steve was wiping his hands clean, the door burst open, and Tony sauntered in, his suit gleaming in the dim light.

"Everybody freeze!" Iron man said in a mechanical voice behind his helmet, raising his hand and pointing at… nothing. Then he lowered it, noticing the room was still, filled only with men groaning in pain on the floor, while you and Steve rolled your eyes at him.

"What? I was already nearby when Vis delivered the message just three seconds ago. It's not like I'm late..." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of unconscious bodies and broken furniture, clearly unfazed by the chaos, as the team led by Maria and Sam entered the room with their weapons raised.

"Get 'em all; we need intel," Steve sighed as he walked over to you. "There’s a lot of interrogation to do." He pulled you close. "C'mon, let's go home."

It was almost sunrise when you arrived at the compound. You slept a bit in the car, and when the heroes started debating in the command room about the next steps and strategies, you stretched your body and headed to the dressing room yawning.

You needed a cold water shower to clear your mind before helping Tony and Bruce decipher all the information. Plus, you had to get out of this suit that smelled like grilled cement, ashes, and burnt fabric.

Ugh, you were a mess. You opened the locker and started unzipping the gear when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you.

Steve’s arms locked around you before you could turn. He restrained your wrists as a frenzied kiss landed on your lips, fingers laced with yours, pinning you against the wall. While holding you captive with one hand, he explored your wrists with the other.

He was burning.

The kiss deepened, and all the feelings he had been holding back since the car chase, was poured into the embrace. 

He was so turned on by everything that had happened—the adrenaline, the action, the danger, and the risks. He was impressed, and aroused, so fucking aroused.

He knew you were special, but you didn’t even blink during the chaos. 

There were explosives, drones, and the entire freaking Iron Army chasing you in a car, and you didn’t step back an inch.

This unyielding, unwavering, fierce-as-fuck version of you was driving him insane.

“Steve…?” You broke the kiss because you needed air, though you were enjoying it. “Are you okay?” Didn’t you just kind of… escape from death?

“Better than ever.” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I need you.” He said this while lowering your gear’s zipper, inhaling as your breasts sprang free from your clothes. He groaned, kneading them with desperate need.

Oh, okay… You moaned, tilting your head back when he sucked and lapped at them. Your gear was only half off as he pulled down your pants, kicked them aside, lifted your leg around his waist, and plunged into your already soaked folds.

Oh, wow. You gasped in awe as your inner walls stretched wide, completely filled by him, and your bodies slamming against the lockers.

And that’s when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking. 

Yup, what you’d been doing every night was making love. But this… 

This was Steve fucking you. And fucking you hard.

The pace was brutal, pounding with relentless intensity. He held your leg and gripped your ass to keep you in position. With one hand on your neck, forcing eye contact, he fucked you harder and harder.

His voice was hoarse and raw, groaning with lust. When he saw you bite your lip to stay quiet, he smiled and quickened his pace.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you kissed me in the nightclub…” He said, his body slamming into yours, locking you against the lockers.

“Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd…” With those images in mind, he murmured in your ear, his thrusts becoming stronger, admiring how waves of pleasure overtook you, making you pressed your leg tighter to his waist, your breath coming in silent gasps, pleading for more.

“Steve…” You could barely whisper. You couldn’t catch your breath as he pounded into you, shaking your body with the force of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his back, trying to hold back your voice, biting your lower lip so the moans wouldn’t escape. You didn’t even know if he had locked the door—someone could walk in at any moment.

But he was so hard, his pace so fast and relentless, completely out of control.

Steve never came before you did. He always made sure you were satisfied first. But this time, he cums when you finally gave in and moaned his name, his release hot and thick inside you.

Before you could even process it, he pulled out and turned you around.

Your breasts hit the lockers as his hands gripped your waist. He positioned you, and just when you were about to inhale, he was inside you again.

Fuck! This felt so good…! Steve never felt this urge, never wanted this so bad, his eyes darkening with further lust and desire, his hands pressing your waist and squeezing your bouncing ass cheek as he sees how he thrusts inside out of you. 

You are so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect for his cock, as you were tailored made for him. He was probably hard since you commanded him in the car, with that badass attitude and fierce determination, and now you were leaning there, with your elbows against the locker, your tits bouncing as he strokes, your ass cheeks marked as he squeezes and rubs them, and your folds still dripping remains of his last cum. Totally at his mercy. 

Fuck, this is hot.

He was going wild. Seeing you trying to mute what at home would be the sweetest or wildest moan, only spur him on, driving him to fuck you with greater velocity, snapping forward with greater intensity. 

“Let go, babe…” He said, snapping his hips forward. Each thrust hit that perfect spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through both of your bodies. “Let it go… Cum for me honey… Come on… I know you’re about to…”

He leaned forward, grabbed your face, and kissed you fiercely, his tongue claiming yours. His hand found your breasts, tweaking and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened, begging for attention.

“Fuck, baby… You feel so good…” His voice was a ragged, hot breath near your ear. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continued to fuck you. 

Your moans were loader, and your clit was so sensitive, it couldn’t take more contact, Steve’s thumbs rubbed faster and stronger, and as he continues to fuck you in your spot, when he feels your walls about to clamp, he just whispers in a determined tone in your ear. “Cum, now.”

It was like he had a switch that controlled your body. Your inner walls clenched at his command, and you gave in, cumming long and hard around his cock, your body trembling. All you were making was lust sounds, mumbling his name, trying to breathe and to recover to the ecstasy that went from your clit to your mind. 

“That’s it, my love…” He smiled with satisfaction, hissing through clenched teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you into another fervent kiss.

When his lips sealed yours, the thrusts became faster and rougher, uncontrollable moans escaping as his hands roamed over your breasts. His movements were frenetic, chasing his own orgasm.

You moved with him, drunk on lust, oblivious to everything else. You felt his hands squeezing harder, his gasps becoming heavier, his cock growing bigger and stronger. Finally, he buried himself inside you, erupting and flooding your depths with a hot load of cum. His hips jerked involuntarily as the last drops spilled inside you, and he was finally satisfied.

“Oh…god… fuck, babe…” He had one hand still rubbing your tits, another pressing your clit and feeling his cum overload your folds, and his body resting in yours, covered with sweat, gear at his feet, when the extreme edge washed over him. “That…was…amazing.”

"Steve..." You panted as he pulled out and turned you around, instantly leaning into him. "I need to sit..." Your knees were weak, and your thighs hurt a little, but in a good way, a very good way.

He let out a soft laugh. "I’m so sorry..." He kissed your forehead as he lifted you onto the bench and covered you with his shirt. "Did I hurt you? Oh..." He winced at the marks on your waist and thighs, nearly bruised from his hands.

"Shit, babe... I’m sorry I got carried away." His voice softened, apologetic. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a kiss on your wrists, where he had also been holding on so tight. "Fuck... I’m sorry."

"No." You grinned and kissed him back. "It was amazing..." You leaned toward him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I loved it. We should have more missions like this."

"As much as I’d love to..." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, holding you close. "I hate the danger around you. But hey..." He hesitated for a moment. "About what I said earlier..."

"'Cum, now'?" You imitated his voice, and he let out a loud laugh.

"No, earlier..."

"Mmm..." You recalled your eidetic memory. "'Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd'?"

Your eyes brightened. "You wanna go back to the nightclub so we can make out?"

Steve actually considered it for a second. "We’ll talk about that later... but no, I meant what I said in the car before the Iron Army attacked us like Ultron’s possessed children."

"Yeah..." You didn’t remember. Well, no, you weren’t listening. "I was distracted by the giant bomb headed toward us, babe... I’m sorry I didn’t hear."

He leaned back, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Okay, what I was saying..." Now he was looking right at you. He cupped your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I think it’s just been proven how deeply, madly, utterly in love I am with you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else..."

"Ohhh!" Now you connected the dots. "So we’re talking about my insecurities because you hung out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend all day?"

"She’s not..." Steve sighed, then softened his voice. "Well, there. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about. I love you. Only you. And I think I’ve proven my desire to be with you forever with the ring..."

"What?" Now you were shocked. "Wait, what?" You sat up straight. "Was the ring really... really... a ring?"

"Of course it is. What else would it be?"

"Um... you said it was a tracking device."

"It is." Steve sighed. "But eventually, when all this is over, it will be just a ring that means: you’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever." He smiles at your incredulous face, and holds you in his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead: "In this life, and all the lifetimes to come. I want only you."

You stared at him, speechless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the weight of his words settling in. His gaze was so full of love, it made your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, but then you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

"Steve..." You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything." He replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just... stay with me. That’s all I need."

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "Yes." You kissed him back. "Now. Always. Forever."

"Okay, now that we’re good..." He lifted you up in his arms. "C’mon princess, let’s take a bath, we are a mess here."

Oh. You raised your eyebrows. You don’t know who he’s kidding; you both know how this was going to end.

The End but TBD :)

Continue to:

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

And that's a wrap for chapter 8! Wohoo, I'm so glad I've made it to write a complete smut!! xD I really suck at writing it in english :D So with so many wonderful writers out there, thank you for reading up to here, hope you enjoyed it :D And thanks everyone for participating in the poll last post xD Can't believe fluff won, come on some angst and then a fluff and happy ending won't hurt, right? xD

I'll see you next friday for chapter 9! Wow 9 chapters!! <3

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[stellar-solar-flare]

S T E V E R O G E R S

This list has all my Steve Rogers works, sorted by length (longfic, oneshot, drabble/headcanon). I have noted down which ones have an AU version of Steve - works with just 'Steve' are about the Avenger we know and love. All my work is for 18+ only but stories have ratings based on their specific content.

MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3

Beautiful star dividers by @steviebbboi, thank you.

L O N G F I C S:

A Fairytale Of A Disaster | Steve x Doctor!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been stood up by her Valentine's Date. Or has she? Romance, fluff, meet-cute, hurt/comfort. COMPLETE, 4/4.

Brilliant Steel (AO3) | Steve Rogers x OFC, platonic Bucky & OFC | Explicit

The AI Head Strategist, Captain Steve Rogers's world implodes as a wave of inexplicable, supernatural events washes over the globe. The problem: the brilliant mind that might be the key to solving all this belongs to a woman Steve once scorned, and she won’t be happy to find him standing at her doorstep. In an effort to save the world, Steve and Bucky team up with a woman that Steve once thought would be much more than a teammate. In a universe much more vast and stranger than anyone ever thought, they’ll have to learn to rely on each other — wits and gifts and weirdness and all — to keep said world on its rails. WIP - 5/x chapters published.

For Centuries (AO3)| emperor!Steve x Stark!princess!Reader | Explicit

As you, the only daughter of King Howard Stark, arrive at the court of Emperor Steven the Righteous to be wedded and crowned the Empress of the Centurial Empire, your husband-to-be is not what you expected. This is a 'From Political Marriage to Love Marriage' story, featuring lots of romantasy elements, court politics, and protective, righteous Emperor Steve Rogers. The slowest of burns. WIP - 19/x chapters published.

Equinox (AO3)| soft dark!mob boss!Steve x superpowered!Reader | Explicit

When you’re caught in the crossfires of a war brewing underground, Steve does what he has to. And as you get pulled deeper into his world, it may very well turn out that starlight can scorch, too. A dark romance story about a woman scorned and a man who is so much more than he seems. WIP, 10/x chapters published.

Volatile | Steve x scientist!Avenger!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been subjected to an aphrodisiac while on a mission. Steve and the medical team attempt to find a solution. Smut with feelings, eventual fluff, eventual happy ending. COMPLETE, 3/3.

O N E S H O T S:

Cinderella Magic | Steve Rogers x Reader | T+

The entire thing had been like something out of a movie, starting from how Steve – to you just Steve, one of the regulars at the bookshop you ran – had barged into the store yesterday and blurted out that he desperately needed a date. Fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers. 828 words.

Every Bit As Magical | Steve x Avenger!Reader | G

When the car stopped, and Steve went round to open the door for you and help you out, you were practically bursting with curiosity. Tumblr Prompt: "Steve Rogers + a day at Disneyland?" Fluff, romance, established relationship. 567 words.

Malogranatum | soft dark!Avenger!Steve Rogers x mob boss!Reader | Explicit

“You know there are lines I do not cross,” you said. Tumblr prompt: "Steve + Mob AU + ”Would you really do that for me?” + nefarious." Dark romance with themes of obsessive love. AU - canon divergence & mob themes. 2,417 words.

Warmth | Steve x chronically ill!Reader | Mature

Steve is the most caring husband and the best heating pad in the world. Even on the bad days when you don't feel easy to love. Hurt/comfort, established relationship, protective Steve Rogers. 1,771 words.

Worthy | Steve Rogers x Reader | Mature

You and Steve Rogers have been dating for a year. When a journalist is out to get you, you will have to stand together and come out stronger. Romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff & hurt/comfort, protective Steve Rogers. Reader has past trauma and unspecified mental health issues. 2,045 words.

H E A D C A N O N S & D R A B B L E S

kink headcanons for different versions of Steve | Explicit

fall-themed dates with Steve headcanons | Mature

getting ready for a Halloween Party with Steve | T+

coming home to Steve after a long day | G

tempting Steve at a Halloween Party | T+

a 3-sentence fic about Steve being a good dad | G

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 4

The Dragon, The Princess & The Knight

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 4331

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!

The Dragon’s Den is located on the bottom two floors of a five-story building. Bucky owns the entire thing. There are offices and meeting rooms on the third floor, a large gathering space on the fourth, and his personal apartment on the fifth. It’s a penthouse: luxurious, all windows but not much of a view, given the location. But that’s okay. It serves its purpose.

Lena gets quiet when they take her up in the elevator, but she’s keyed up and loose from the drugs, Bucky can tell. Her eyes roam all around the familiar apartment when they get up there, from the luxe couches and the fireplace, to the kitchen and bar, to the bed. It isn’t a canopy bed so much as it is a mattress, richly-dressed and surrounded by semi-sheer drapes that hang from the ceiling in every direction, pooling sumptuously on the floor and turning the area around the bed into its own room.

It’s a fuck pad—exactly what Bucky designed it for.

Bucky follows her there, watching her looking at the bedspread with dazed eyes. She’s high, the drugs coursing through her system. That’s good. The aphrodisiacs were part of the plan from the beginning, to help her loosen up for what comes next. Bucky doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt over it. If Lena refuses to admit her feelings on her own, then he’s glad to give her a little help until she can. He comes up to stand behind her as she trails her fingers over the bedspread. His hands settle on her hips. “Haven’t changed a thing, malyshka,” he murmurs, bending to kiss lightly at her neck, just under her ear. “Kept it for you.”

“For your whores,” she mutters.

Far from upsetting him, the accusation actually makes Bucky smile, because it means she cares. “No,” he tells her with a low chuckle. “I haven’t been with another woman other than you, sweet pea. Not in nine whole years.” He’d slipped in the beginning, just in that first year, before he’d given up on morality and decided that she was going to be it for him. Before he’d been sure of her feelings for him in return. “Not, one,” he repeats against her neck, smug.

She whirls around in his arms, eyes wide and lips parted. Her surprise turns to a scowl. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he says calmly, holding her gaze, and he can see the doubt creep into her expression, the wavering disbelief.

“He’s not,” Steve adds, from where he’s fixing drinks over at the bar—straight on the rocks for them, cranberry spritzer for her. He’s using the Russo-Baltique without having asked, and Bucky concurs: the occasion calls for it. Steve stirs the drinks with a clink of ice. “He loves you Polina. Don’t know why you refuse to accept it.”

Bucky sees her cheeks color prettily, and he cups the side of her face. “You really scared me this time,” he tells her, dropping all pretense and just letting her see him. “Ten months? That’s too long, Lena.” He shakes his head, sees her swallow. He edges closer and pulls on her waist so that she’s pressed up against him, her eyes skipping over his face uncertainly. “Too long,” he whispers, before he dips down and captures her mouth in a kiss that feels like coming home.

It’s not like it’d been downstairs. She’s off her guard now, all emotions and no defenses, and even though her body stiffens for the barest second, after that she goes soft against him, sobbing once against his mouth in a way that says she’s missed him, too. Missed this.

Bucky kisses her harder, hand sliding to pull her in at her lower back and cradle the back of her head. He holds her and lets her hide in their kiss for a few more seconds. It almost aches to pull away and end it, but Bucky knows himself, knows he won’t be able to keep from pushing her back the handful of steps to the bed if he doesn’t pause now. He doesn’t want this night to go wrong. He needs her to consent at the beginning, otherwise he’ll have no leverage over her, and she’ll be right back to her old ways in no time. “Come on,” he coaxes, pulling back and taking her hand in his. She’s so small, he remembers, as her fingers slip into his. “Let’s sit down for a little while, huh? C’mere.”

He walks her over to the couch, sitting her down between him and Steve. Steve’s turned the fireplace on, and he hands her the vodka cranberry, which she takes with a meek little ‘thank you’, head tucked down over her drink. Steve and Bucky’s eyes meet from over her shoulder, communicating silently, as they’ve become so adept at doing. Bucky told Steve that he might send him away tonight, if it looked like Lena couldn’t handle it. But so far, his presence seems to be helping her to stay calm, and that’s good. Bucky wants her relaxed. He wants her between them.

He sips from his own drink and curls his arm over her shoulder, and Steve leans close on her other side. Bucky reaches to touch her bandaged forearm. He trails a single finger over the ridiculous neon cheetah spots, connecting them on the way down to her wrist. “Does it hurt?” he asks, fully anticipating the shake of the head she gives him. He’d used numbing salve, and he knows from experience that ink as minor as hers doesn’t tend to hurt once bandaged. His own back is tight and uncomfortable. He’s still shirtless, and he knows he should’ve slathered himself with some of the ointment too, downstairs, but his attention is all on her. As it should be. If his own ink heals poorly, he’ll just have Natasha touch it up later. Bucky hums when she shyly admits that no, it doesn’t hurt. He sips his drink and watches her keenly. “Good,” he says, I don’t want you to hurt, only to feel good.”

Her little mouth pouts, brow wrinkled as she keeps her eyes lowered. Bucky reaches out to guide her chin up with a single finger underneath her jaw. “Hey,” he says softly. “You do understand why I had to do it, don’t you?” He tilts his head, waiting her out, and she looks embarrassed as she avoids his eyes and licks her lips. Bucky hums and pulls his hand back. She does understand, she just doesn’t want to say so. “You’re mine, Lena,” he tells her gently. “You always have been. Ever since that first time you let me in between your legs.”

Her eyes flick up to him, widened, and then narrowed. Her flush deepens and her lips part like maybe she’ll try and rebuff him. Steve, as well-timed as he is with these things, jumps in at just the right moment. “Hey, you like that?” he asks her, indicating the glass she’s holding. “Did I make it right?”

Lena nods, peeking over at him. “Yeah. It’s … it’s my favorite. … Thanks, Steve.”

He offers a soft smile and turns into her. “I always remember what you like best, honey.” The way he says it makes her fluster, her smile faltering from nerves. Bucky makes a gesture with his hand from where he’s got his arm around her waist, and Steve takes the cue and sidles closer, wrapping his arm over the back of the couch, right behind her shoulders. It puts the three of them even closer together than before, intent unmistakable.

Lena looks up at Steve, who is sipping his drink but keeping his eyes on her, and then she looks to Bucky, brows drawn together in worry. “Bucky …”

“It’s okay,” he soothes her, downing a gulp of his drink before setting it aside, expensive liquor be damned. He holds her closer, turned in, using his arm around her waist to keep her held against him. He reaches up and turns her uncertain face back towards him. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay. Steve just wants to be close with you. Like I do.” He lets their lips brush together and nudges her nose with his, affectionate. “He cares about you, y’know?”

Behind her, Steve’s hand has started sliding up over her thigh, petting her from over the silk of her dress. “Always have,” he murmurs.

She inhales and makes to turn her head, but Bucky holds her still. “Shh sh sh, hey, look at me, Lena.” She does, and he looks her in her drugged-up little eyes. “If you want him to go, just say so. He will.” He’s whispering at this point, and he leans in and kisses her softly on the mouth, taking his time, letting her feel the press of his lips until she moans very quietly. He pulls back, “But if you’re worried about what he’ll think of you and me, you shouldn’t.”

“Wha?”

Bucky smiles, glad that they used the aphrodisiac. If she was sober right now, he’s sure Lena would bolt. “Steve doesn’t care,” he tells her gently, petting the side of her face, stroking her hair. “He knows you’re my half-sister, and he doesn’t care.”

Lena whines and squirms, trying to hide her face in his palm. Behind her, Steve leans in and kneads her shoulder. “I’d like to stay, honey. Be with you and Bucky, if you’ll let me.”

Bucky gives her a tender, coaxing look. “What do you want, Princess? You just tell me. You want Steve to stay? He cares about you, you know. That’s why I told him about us. Told him a long time ago. And you know what he said? Know what he thought?” He tucks her hair behind her ear and whispers, “He said he could always tell, and he thought it was fucking hot.”

Lena whimpers, but he hushes the sound away. “No, sweetheart. Mm mn. He doesn’t care. Look at him. Look in his eyes. Go on.” He moves her gently, forcing her to turn her head to where Steve is waiting right there on the other side. Steve’s arm tightens behind her, his face in hers, eyes darkened. “Ask him,” Bucky prods, wanting to make her do it herself. He can only see the back of her head when she’s turned into Steve, but he stays close, tucked up behind her, pulling her hair back in one hand and stroking her skin. He kisses the back of her shoulder. “Ask him what he wants.”

“Steve?” her voice is quiet, shy, and Bucky’s lips curl against her skin when he can tell that Steve’s gently pulled her into a kiss.

They kiss for a long moment, slow, mouths making soft little sounds that make Bucky’s pulse quicken. Then Steve’s murmuring, “Want you to feel good, honey. You’re so beautiful, you know that? Just want to make you feel good and so safe.” He kisses her again, and Lena moans quietly.

Bucky watches them kiss, his dick straining against the seam of his pants as it hardens. This is the exact scenario he’s been fantasizing about for years, now. And now Lena’s right here, between them, softening against Steve’s coaxing advances just like Bucky’s always hoped she would. He presses up more fully against her back, joining them, one hand curling round her waist again. “Steve and I share a lot, sweet pea,” he tells her quietly, kissing across her neck and shoulder while Steve keeps softly making out with her. Bucky lets his hand slip down to her hip and inwards to her belly. He splays his fingers out wide and presses, getting another tiny moan out of her. “We’re close,” he whispers, kissing along her shoulder. “Closer than most friends are. You understand?” He waits a moment, then reaches around for Steve, cupping the side of his face while he’s still kissing Lena. Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, pupils blown, and Bucky feels his dick twitch at how dark his irises have gotten. “Show her,” he murmurs.

Steve sits there for a second more, breathing open mouthed and staring with lust-blown eyes, then he groans quietly and leans over Lena’s shoulder to kiss Bucky.

They make out for a moment, though it feels like longer, the hot and heavy press of their mouths harsher with each other than they’d been with Lena. Bucky drags his teeth against Steve’s lower lip as he pulls away, his hand still on Steve’s cheek. He guides him back to Lena, looking between them—Steve’s lax face and Lena’s shocked, aroused look. Bucky purrs, “Go on.”

When Lena looks to him again, unsure, he shushes her and promises, “It’s okay to want it, puppy. Steve and I want it. S’nothing wrong. Just the three of us. Steve and I want to make you feel good.” He kisses her neck again, while Steve takes hold of her face.

“You still gonna let us do that, sweetheart?” he asks her. “Mm?”

“I … ohn …”

Bucky peeks over her shoulder and sees Steve’s hand cupping her breast through the silk of her dress. Lena’s body presses into it instinctually, and Bucky groans at the sight. Fuck, he wants them all naked and on the bed together, now.

He growls quietly and pulls Lena back to him. Her lips look swollen from the kissing. Bucky maintains a good amount of scruff, verging on a short beard; and Steve, while usually clean shaven, is sporting a bit of stubble now that it’s so late at night. Lena’s chin is rubbed pink from both of them kissing her. The sight makes Bucky smile. He can’t wait to mess her up so badly. Steve ducks down to kiss her throat while he keeps feeling up her breasts, and Bucky goes up to whisper in her ear. “See? It’s nice, isn’t it? Does it feel good, puppy? Having two men’s hands on you at once?”

“Ohn … I, mmm.”

“Yeah? You like how it feels when he touches you there?” Bucky asks. In his arms, Lena nods and gives a breathy little ‘ah ha’. Bucky holds her back to him, both arms wrapping around her waist while Steve lavishes her with attention in front. He palms her breasts, sucks a hickey against her collarbone while he plucks at her nipples from over the silk. His hands wander all over her body, insatiable, over her thighs and waist, touching Bucky’s arms that are wrapped around her as he goes. Steve nuzzles at the side of her jaw and locks eyes with Bucky, lips parted. “She’s gorgeous,” he whispers, and Lena shivers between them. “Thank you.”

Bucky’s eyes gleam back at him, and he lets one of his hands slide down her belly again, down to the vee of her legs. He starts rubbing light circles there, slip-sliding over the fabric of her dress, and Lena’s breath catches. “Yeah,” Bucky murmurs to her, still staring at Steve. “You’re welcome, Stevie.”

Steve groans when he sees what Bucky’s doing. “Oh, honey,” he coos, talking to Lena while Bucky’s hand presses and rubs in delicate patterns over the front of her sex. Steve leans into her, presses their foreheads together. “Does that feel good? It does, doesn’t it?” he purrs, egging her and Bucky on at the same time. His hand lands on top of Bucky’s and rides the motion of his fingers, and Bucky groans quietly. “Look down, honey,” Steve whispers. “Look down at us touching you, please.”

She does, obeying Steve and looking at their hands molded to her mound. She makes a devastated little noise in her throat, hips jumping forward. Bucky chuckles lowly and circles the flats of his fingers right where he knows she needs it. “Is Steve right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “S’this feel so good, puppy? You like it when I rub like this, hm?”

She whines and refuses to answer, but the response of her body is more than enough. She can’t stop grinding forward against their hands. Bucky hums darkly and keeps rubbing, his chin hooked over her shoulder to watch his and Steve’s hands working together. Steve’s other hand is on her breast, thumb swiping back and forth over her tightly pebbled nipple from over the silk.

It makes Bucky ache so bad it almost hurts, to finally get to see his best friend, closest confidant and sometimes-lover touch their girl intimately for the first time. Their girl, Christ. Could he be that lucky? “Yeah,” Bucky breathes against her ear. “Yeah, you like it just like this. I remember. Tight little circles, right here, pushing down, workin’ the seam of your panties right over you clit. That’s what feels nice, huh princess?” He kisses her temple and works his hand a little firmer. “Are you soaking through ‘em yet?”

Lena moans louder than before and tosses her head, twisting in his arms, but Bucky hauls her in even harder against him, his one arm around her waist holding her still like an iron bar. “Stevie,” he says, “Feel her. Tell me.”

Lena cries out prettily when Steve’s hand sneaks between her legs and presses against her panties. He hums and chuckles, meeting Bucky’s eyes. “She’s soaked.”

Bucky purrs smugly against the side of Lena’s face, nuzzling her burning cheek. “See? Can’t hide from us, malyshka. I know. I know what you like, and you’d better believe I’m gonna teach Steve every little bit of it.” She squirms against him weakly, embarrassed, and that only gets him harder, makes him want it more. “Steve,” he says while he pets Lena’s hair to calm her. “Let’s move this to the bed.”

Steve’s eyes light up and he nods. He turns his attentions to Lena and Bucky lets her go so Steve can pull her up with him as he stands, holding her to his body and then scooping her up entirely when she stumbles on her feet. “Aw, come here, honey,” he murmurs into her hair, carrying her over to set her gently down on the bed.

Bucky picks up his tumbler and faces the fireplace as he finishes the expensive liquor inside before it can go too watery from the ice. He’s just drinking the last of it when he hears Steve murmuring gently from back by the bed,

“There you go. Let’s take this off. You’re okay, easy sweetheart.”

Bucky stands and goes over to them. Steve’s got Lena lying back on the mattress and is sitting there beside her, gently edging the straps of her dress over her shoulders. He’s taking his time, leaning down to pet her waist or kiss her sweetly whenever her nerves pick up and she looks like she’ll start making a fuss. “Shh, honey. It’s okay. You’re beautiful. Just want to see you.”

Bucky walks to the other side of the bed and makes quick work of his clothes. He keeps his briefs on purely as a matter of caution. Better to go slow, rather than rush things too fast and scare her. He climbs onto the mattress and meets Steve’s eyes, giving him a look that says he should do the same. Steve nods and pulls back to stand and undress.

Bucky takes the moment to pull Lena with him, back to sit against the headboard. He shushes her when she fusses, guiding her to relax back against him. Her dress, little more than a silk slip to begin with, slides down her body as they move, bearing her breasts. She squeaks and moves to pull it back up, but Bucky grabs her hands and tells her it's okay. “You heard Steve,” he murmurs against her skin. “We both think you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweet pea. No need to fuss about showing us your beautiful body.” He lets her hands go so that he can cup her breasts. Their soft weight in his hands makes him ache with another wave of yearning. God, he’s missed her so much.

“Bucky,” she breathes, turning her face into him. Her eyes are closed in shyness, making Bucky smile.

“It’s okay,” he coos. “We want you. We want you between us. Are you gonna be my sweet girl, hm? Gonna let us love you, sora mica?”

It’s a risky thing to say at this point in the game, calling her little sister right in front of Steve. She squirms back against him, upset but turned on and unable to hide it. Bucky smiles and wraps his arms around her fully, hugging her back against him. “Look at him,” he whispers into her ear, grin audible in his voice. “Isn’t he pretty?”

Lena stares at Steve, open mouthed and dazed. She makes a tiny little sound in the back of her throat—nerves and arousal both. Bucky nods with his face hooked over her shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Why do you think I fuck him?”

Lena tenses, then she turns her head to peek at him. Bucky grins, because he can see how she finds it hot. “You like that?” he laughs, kissing her cheek. “Mm hm. Thought you might.” Deviously, he holds her breast and tweaks her nipple, murmuring, “I remember your Pornhub playlists, puppy. I know you like to watch two men fucking.”

She squirms and whines and tosses her head, but it’s only in embarrassment and not to get away from him, and besides, Bucky loves a bit of a struggle from his girl. He just laughs and hauls her in against his body. “Oh, calm down,” he scolds her. “You’re supposed to be a grown woman. You can admit when something turns you on.”

She huffs and fights him another second, but stills when Steve climbs up onto the bed to join them. He’s in nothing but his boxer briefs, and Bucky hums at the sight of him. Steve’s got a gorgeous body. Bucky’s never considered himself bisexual, but Steve has been his one exception. Bucky’s always wanted him. “Help our girl out,” he tells him. “She’s overdressed.”

Steve smiles and crawls over, taking a moment to cradle Lena’s face and kiss her before pulling back. He gently edges her dress down over her hips and legs, tossing it aside. He pushes her legs apart and lies down between them, face right at her panties. Bucky feels his cock harden even further at the sight of Steve running his hands over her thighs, thumbs running along the edge of her panties. Bucky groans and Steve’s eyes twinkle up at them.

“Relax, hon,” he tells Lena. “Lie back against your brother. Let him hold you.”

Lena’s breath catches at how openly he just says it, and Bucky smirks down at Steve in approval. Steve knows the game they’re playing, the delicate balance of keeping her calm and riling her up. “See?” Bucky says against the shell of her ear. “I told you: he’s into it. You don’t have to be shy.”

“Steve,” she breathes, “I …”

“You want this?” he asks, staring up at her with dark eyes as he pulls her panties down slowly. “Gonna let me taste you, honey?”

She lifts her hips for him without thought, and Steve grins and pulls her panties all the way off, tossing them aside. “Good girl,” he praises, settling down between her legs again. His focus shifts down, and he groans at the sight of her. “Oh, sweetheart …”

Bucky chuckles lowly and watches Steve getting his very first look. “I know, right?” Lena whines between them and Bucky slides his hand up to cover her mouth, muffling her cries. “Shh, Lena. The grownups are talking.”

Below, Steve snickers, his hands pushing Lena’s thighs further apart as he stares. “Fuck, Buck.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier pussy,” Steve breathes, his mouth only inches from her core. He frames her with his hands, using his thumbs to gently explore her folds. “God, Lena.” He talks to her without looking away from where he’s touching. “You’re perfect.”

Under Bucky’s palm, she makes little noises of embarrassment, “Mmn, hmmhh …”

Bucky chuckles and pulls her hard against him. “Stop fighting it, puppy,” he teases, licking a hot swipe up her neck. He feels her resultant shiver. “You’re going to love it. We’re gonna make you feel so good. You just have to give into it.” He kisses her skin. “I’m gonna take my hand away now, and you’re going to admit that this feels good, you hear me?” He puts a little sternness into his voice, because he knows from experience that she responds well to it. He brings his hand from her mouth, down to her neck, giving a little squeeze. “Tell us,” he says. “C’mon. I don’t want to hear you lying to me now, girl.”

“Bucky,” she pants, voice wrecked. The aphrodisiacs are doing their job. “I … I want …”

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at her. He kisses her inner thigh, right next to her sex, and she moans. “What do you want, honey? Want me to touch you?” He lets his thumb trail over her, softly moving over the hood of her clit. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Lena. These pretty pink folds? Fuck, I’ve never seen such a juicy pussy.”

Lena moans, and Bucky knows they’ve got her now, she’s not going to fight them anymore. He drags his teeth over her neck and murmurs, “Tell him how you like it, puppy. Go on.” When she doesn’t say anything, just lies there panting and squirming, whining for his touch, Bucky chuckles and kisses her. “That’s alright, sweet pea. I can tell him.” He locks eyes with Steve and feels his belly clench at what they finally have between them, now. They’ve talked about it for so long, and now it’s finally happening. Bucky tightens his hand on Lena’s neck, giving her just enough pressure to restrict her breathing the tiniest bit. “I know all your kinks, don’t I?” he purrs, and she whines and nods, panting,

“Bucky, fuck, please …”

“There’s my girl,” he praises. He looks down at Steve. “Rub her like you were doing, just barely touching her clit, just lightly now. Our girl’s sensitive, ain’t that right, puppy?”

Lena nods, chin bumping his hand.

Steve follows Bucky’s every direction, gently circling his thumb over her clit, trailing just the tip of his finger through her folds, smearing her wetness all over. “So wet,” he breathes. Carefully, looking up to watch Lena’s face as he does it, he presses his finger into her while still rubbing her clit. Lena moans the prettiest little sound. “Yeah?” Steve asks, looking up at her. “That feel nice, honey?” He fucks her gently on just that one finger, curling it to get at the soft spot inside. He lowers his face and laps at her clit while his thumb keeps working it from above.

“There you go,” Bucky murmurs. “Just like that. That’s how she likes it.” He kisses Lena’s neck and uses his other hand to palm and pluck at her breast. “Work her clit and fuck her on your fingers—give her another, two, yeah. Curl ‘em and just keep working her real gentle just like that. She’ll cum that way.”

Steve listens and does exactly as Bucky says, keeping his hand rocking in her slow and steady, his other hand spread out over her belly, pushing down, thumb flicking softly back and forth on her clit while he laves gently over her lips. Sure enough, Lena’s breath quickens, her body growing taught, then shaking, trembling as she gets close. “Oh … nnn, ughn … ohplease, oh.”

“There you go, little one, just let it out now, let it happen.” Bucky coaxes her through it, holding her tightly as she jerks and cries out in pleasure. Below, Steve groans and nods his face against her as he feels her body ripple around his fingers, and Bucky growls. “Theere you go, oh, good girl.”

“Fuck,” Steve exhales, looking up at Bucky with wet lips. “She’s creamin’ all over my hand, fuck.”

“Show me.” Bucky grinds his hips forward against Lena’s backside for a little bit of relief, and when Steve gets up to him and presents his hand, Bucky groans at the smell of her on his fingers. He opens his mouth for a taste, staring at Steve, and sucks her juices straight off his fingers.

Steve’s eyes blacken and he curses. He pulls his hand back and checks on Lena. “You okay honey?” he asks, holding her face and giving her a kiss. “Feel good?”

“Mm. Mm hm.” She’s still got her eyes closed from the orgasm, and slowly, she opens them. Steve smiles down at her. She sighs and smiles, too. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, hon. You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“You should show Steve some attention,” Bucky murmurs in her ear. “Here, lie down. C’mon. Steve, get on your back.” He moves them so that Lena is lying on her side alongside Steve. She’s at the level of his hip, and Bucky lies behind her and guides her hand to the front of Steve’s underwear. “Touch him,” he coaxes, curling her fingers with his own over the line of his erection. “There you go. Come on now, princess, I know you know how to do this part. Make Steve feel good while I fuck you, okay?”

Lena’s gone on the drugs and on her own arousal, inhibitions nowhere to be seen as she turns into Steve to kiss his abs and rub her cheek against his lower belly, nosing at the trail of hair that leads down into his underwear. She curls her hand from over the fabric and squeezes. Tentatively, she edges down the waistband. “Oh,” she whispers, sounding surprised when she gets him uncovered and he kicks his underwear off for her. Bucky watches and hurriedly strips his off as well, crowding back in behind her.

“You like that, honey?” Steve rumbles from above, grabbing at his balls and giving them a tug. “Go on. You can touch me.”

She does, taking Steve’s heavy cock in her hand and closing her fingers around him. He’s just as hard as Bucky is, if not more. Bucky didn’t miss how he’d been grinding on the mattress when he had his face buried between Lena’s legs.

While she slowly gains confidence stroking him, Bucky curls up behind her and plays along her folds from behind, gathering her slick on his fingers and trailing them back to her tight little furl. She inhales sharply in surprise when he starts rubbing her there, applying gentle circles of pressure, gradually, until his finger slips in.

“Ah,”

“Shh.” He kisses her shoulder blade, hushing her. “S’okay, little one. You’ve taken me back here before. It’s just one right now, you feel? S’just my finger.” She relaxes incrementally as he fucks her on his hand, one finger and then two in her ass, just giving her shallow little thrusts that get her used to the feeling and help her loosen up. He rubs his thumb along her taint and lets it dip teasingly into her cunt with the motion of his hand. “Touch yourself,” he whispers. “Go on, malyshka. Be a good girl now and rub on your pussy while you make Steve feel good.”

She whimpers, but after a second he can feel her obeying, squirming to get her free hand down between her legs to touch herself. Bucky hums, pleased, and returns to prepping her asshole. “You know, sweet pea,” he whispers, speaking against the bend of her neck. “You should put him in your mouth.” He kisses her neck and gives a tiny little nip. “He made you feel good with his mouth, didn’t he? You should do the same. Come on. Just the tip, baby girl. Just let him feel your sweet, wet mouth sucking on the head. Give ‘im a taste.” He turns his fingers in her ass, scissoring them apart to stretch her rim.

“Hnngh.”

“Your mouth,” Bucky reminds softly. “Give him your mouth, puppy.”

Lena’s adorable and beautiful when she gets like this, all trembles and nonverbal squeaks and whines, like a dumb little doll once you really get her worked up, and Bucky’s always gone nuts for the way she looks like an absolute fuck doll when she’s got her mouth full of cock.

Steve must think the same, because he groans from above and stares down at her, his hands coming down to rest on her head as she slurps him in. “Shit, baby, yeah. Fuck.”

Bucky hums lowly. “Careful now, Stevie. She can’t take too much. Jus’ let her play.”

Steve grunts and nods, looking pained. But he holds still and lets Lena explore at her own pace. Bucky smirks and goes back to work behind her. He reaches behind himself to the edge of the mattress, finding the lube. He brings it back and coats his fingers good before returning them to her ass. He takes his time, enjoying the wet sounds of Lena’s mouth sucking Steve, while he wets his fingers up and massages her tight little hole, coaxing her open and stuffing lube inside, coming back again and again for more. He plays with her until she’s good and loose, her body finally giving way to the intrusion of two fingers and losing that instinctive reaction as the muscle gives in. “Theere it is,” he murmurs, giving her a third finger for a few moments just to be sure. Lena whines with her mouth full of cock and Bucky scrapes his teeth over her neck. “You still touchin’ yourself, puppy?”

“Mmm, mmph hmm.”

“Good girl. I’m gonna push inside now.”

She whines around Steve’s cock, and while Bucky lines himself up, Steve hushes her, whispering, “Shhh, Lena. You can take it. I know you can. He told me, you know that? Told me how tight you are back there, how good you take him.” Lena squeals and moans at his words, but Steve keeps his hands clamped on the back of her neck and her shoulder, not letting up. “Go on, Buck,” he pants. “Take her.”

It’s such a fucking tight squeeze, but Bucky takes his time and waits her out, pushing, and when his cockhead finally slips inside, it gets easier from there. He waits, knowing his girl’s body well. She needs to settle, adjust to the intrusion before it can start feeling good for her. So he holds still and pets her hip while she chokes and cries out at the intrusion. Steve’s cock slips from her mouth and she gasps, “Ahhn! ohnn…” Poor thing, she’s so overwhelmed.

Bucky slips his hand around where she’s forgotten about touching herself. He knocks her hand out of the way and takes over, rubbing tight circles down over her clit and whispering filth into her hear. “Fuck, baby, you lettin’ daddy in? Yeah you are, so good, sweetie pie. Doing so good for me. You’re my good little girl.” In front of him, Lena sobs, and he can tell from the sound of it that it’s in humiliated pleasure. He groans and slides his way in, pushing until he’s buried to the hilt, hips against her ass. “Fuuck,” he hisses, holding still to calm himself down. He doesn’t want this to be over yet. He’s not done with her. He rubs her clit and purrs in her ear, “How’s that feel, huh? S’it a lot? Shh sh sh I know, I know. But you’re so good to let daddy have this, little girl. Feels so fucking good inside your tight little ass, you’ve got no idea.”

She shivers and cries, hips jumping, panting open mouthed against Steve’s stomach when Bucky pinches her clit and rubs it just so. “Ohgn! Bucky…”

“Steve,” he grunts. “Get down here.”

Steve’s there in a second, sliding down in the bed and pressing up against Lena’s front, sandwiching her between their bodies. “Hey darlin’,” he whispers, holding her face and keeping her attention. “You’re so pretty,” he tells her, kissing her to keep her distracted.

“Touch her,” Bucky breathes. “Get her ready.”

Steve does, rubbing her clit and teasing along her folds before slipping inside of her with two fingers. She groans long and low at the added stretch. “Shh,” Steve hushes gently, curling his fingers. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck, I can feel your fucking fingers,” Bucky gasps. “Unnh.”

In front, Steve gets Lena to open up for him, dipping into her mouth with his tongue and kissing her to keep her calm. “Hey, honey. I want to fuck you, too. You think you can try for me? Let me slip inside with your brother?” He says it on purpose, Bucky suspects, just to let her know again that he’s not judging her, that he likes how wrong it is, just like they do. She squeals and jerks in their arms when he says it, but they easily still her struggles. “Shhh, Lena. It’s okay. I want you,” Steve promises, holding her still. “I want both of you.” He rocks his hips forward, letting his dick slide against her folds, the head bumping Bucky’s balls.

“Nooo,” Lena moans, “I can’t, please, I can’t.”

“You can take it, puppy,” Bucky coos, knowing that they’ll have to force it, if they want to find out if she can take them both. She’s too nervous. “Steve,” he says tightly. “Just do it. Go slow.”

Lena cries out and tries to fight them, but she’s so small and weak, easy to maneuver and hold still. Steve goes to his back and pulls her on top of him, and with Bucky pressing her down from behind, she doesn’t stand a chance. Steve wraps his arm around her back like a steel band and uses his other hand to guide himself into her pussy. “Holy shhh—” he hisses, going silent as he slips inside.

“Oh my fucking god,” Bucky breathes, eyes slamming shut at the pressure, at the feeling of Steve’s cock through her walls. “Oh, Steve, oh fuck.”

Between them, Lena sobs, overwhelmed, and Bucky readjusts himself, trying to take some of his weight off her. “Hold still Steve,” he orders. “Don’t move. Give her a minute.” He gets to his knees behind her and helps Steve hold her down against his chest. Steve’s one hand has gone up and clamped behind her neck, and he’s whispering little platitudes against her forehead. “Shh sh sh, it’s okay, just relax honey, relax.”

Bucky groans. It’s so much. He can feel Steve’s dick right there, like there’s nothing separating them. It’s enough to get his balls tightening. “Fuck Stevie,” he huffs, both hands planted on Lena’s back to keep her down. “Fuck, we’re … we’re actually …”

“Yeah,” he gasps, sounding just as amazed as Bucky feels. “I can feel you.”

“Fuck, me too. Me too.” They’ve talked about it so many times, and now they’re actually doing it, both inside her at the same time. It’s so hot, it makes Bucky feel dizzy. He has to hold still, too, or else he’s going to bust his nut right then and there. “Shit,” he whispers, body trembling as he tries to control his breathing, “Shhiiit.”

Between them, Lena’s cries have calmed down to groans, and she wiggles her hips in a way that has the both of them gripping her harder. “Ohnn,” she whines. “Ss-steve, oh, it’s…”

“I know honey, I know. You okay?” Steve checks, petting her side and guiding her face up to get a look at her. Bucky catches the little smile he gives her, and he feels the shiver that rolls through Lena’s body in response. She’s calming down, thank God. “Yeah?” Steve asks, sounding encouraged. “Y’feel full, honey? Takin’ both our cocks at the same time?” Lena whines, aroused, and Steve’s eyes go molten hot.

Bucky watches as the two of them make out. He strokes Lena’s back and slips a hand down under her belly. Steve’s pubic hair tickles his fingers as he finds her clit and strokes it. “Oh,” Bucky sighs, smiling in relief at when he finds. “You’re soaked, babygirl.” Carefully, still stimulating her with his hand, he lets his hips pull back the barest bit, then eases back in. It hardly even counts as a real thrust, but it makes Lena sob against Steve’s mouth and grind forward against Bucky’s fingers. “There you go, sweetheart.” He gives her another, and another. “There you go.”

“Holy shit,” Steve whispers.

“Mm hm. She’s taking us just right. Fuckin’ knew it. She’s made for us,” Bucky praises, grunting as her body takes the short, slow thrusts he gives her. “She’s fuckin milking my dick, Steve.”

“Me too.”

Bucky eases up his grip on her, kneeling back and stroking his hands down her back. He pumps his hips shallowly and murmurs, “Grind a little, sweet pea. Grind your clit down on Steve.”

Lena whines, sounding mortified, but after a second she does, rubbing herself off against Steve’s pubic bone. Steve groans at the way it works his cock inside her, the way her walls flutter around him as she starts to feel good. His hands grip her at the waist, fingers digging into her soft curves. “Oh, baby, baby,” he pants, one hand sliding up her back and into her hair, holding her close. “Yeah, does that feel nice? Feel nice bein’ all full and grinding on my cock?”

Lena sobs and nods, working her hips a little harder as she squeezes them both. “Oh god, oh fuck,” she moans. Her hands are grabbing at Steve’s shoulders and she turns her head to the side on his chest. “Nnn, Bucky,” she cries, watery eyes opening and searching him out.

Bucky’s belly flips and he bends over her, kissing at her slack mouth. “Hey Beautiful. M’right here, little one, right here.”

“Daddy,” she sobs.

Bucky’s gits twist with arousal and something deeper, something darker. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s okay. S’it feel good?” She moans miserably and nods, hips still moving between them, working their cocks inside the way she needs, her insides fluttering as she gets close. “Aw, are you gonna cum?” Bucky coos, a tinge of mocking in his voice, just the way he knows helps her get there. “You like getting your holes stuffed, baby? Daddy fucking your ass and Stevie in your cunt? Need to be fucked that much, greedy girl?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she cries, and Bucky’s not sure if she’s saying it about running away, or if she’s just so overwhelmed and humiliated at her own perverse desires. Probably the latter. She can get that way, sometimes, sobbing and apologizing while she comes on Bucky’s cock, calling him daddy while she falls apart.

Bucky kisses her mouth, sloppy, and rocks his hips against her ass as she starts to come. It’s unmistakable, not only in the clench of her body, but in the filthy sounds her cunt makes as she squirts and all three of them get soaked by it. Steve and Bucky both groan loudly as it happens, their bodies squelching and clapping wetly as their skin hits hers.

“Fuck,” Steve curses, hips fucking up into her without control.

Bucky laughs breathlessly, then groans at the friction of their cocks working inside at the same time. “Oh yeah,” he pants, right in Lena’s face and against Steve’s chest. “Didn’t I tell you she’s a squirter? Ughnn …” He fucks into her one last time as his balls draw up and the tight coil of arousal that’s been building and building in his core bursts. He groans and rocks against her ass as he rides it out. “Fuuuck…” He turns his head, beard scraping over Steve’s pec and up to his shoulder. He’s still thrumming in the aftershocks, his balls fucking ache, and he closes his mouth over Steve’s neck, tasting the salt in his sweat. “C’mon, Steve,” he pants, “cum inside her, fill her pussy up all sloppy. She loves that.”

Lena cries out in protest, but Bucky just gives her a hard thrust with his softening dick. “Shut up, puppy. I know what you like.” He’s slipping out of her a second later, not completely soft but too sensitive to stay inside when Steve’s still buried in her cunt. He kneels back and watches Steve’s cock driving in and out of her body. He groans at the sight. “Shit, Steve. You close?”

“Nnngh.”

Bucky laughs, breathless. He reaches down and cups Steve’s balls, curling his fingers sharply up behind them, grinding in against his taint. Steve shouts and his hips jerk up as he starts to come—it’s unmistakable. Bucky growls possessively and slips his hand back to Lena’s ass, slipping her his thumb and making her squeal. “Take it, Princess,” he growls. “You just had a hell of a lot more shoved up this filthy hole. Now take it.”

She cries out, and Bucky can tell from the way she’s moving her hips that she’s trying for another orgasm. Between his legs, his dick gives a tired little pulse, like it wishes it could shove right back up in there. Bucky fucks her and tugs on her rim with his thumb until Steve is spent, then he’s bending over Lena and gathering her in his arms, pulling her back up to kneeling with him, Steve’s cock slipped from her body and lying in a puddle of his cum and her squirt all over his belly.

Bucky growls, grips her throat hard in one hand to hold her against him, and shoves his other hand between her legs. “Look at that filthy fuckin’ mess you made, moya shlyuka,” he rasps right in her ear. “You like it that fucking much, huh?” He’s being mean now, and his fingers are too, as he hooks them in her cunt and tugs, over and over, rocking, getting her right where she needs, the heel of his palm bumping her clit with every motion. “Come on,” he pants, arm straining, working against her hard. “Give Stevie a show now. Show him what a messy fucking cunt you have.”

Lena wails and tenses, right on the edge. “Nnn!!”

“Squirt,” Bucky growls, rocking her whole body with the force of his hand, squeezing her throat. “Fuckin’ give it to me.” He feels her tip over the edge, her insides clamping down against his fingers a split second before she starts squirting. He immediately pulls his hand out and rubs furiously over her folds, making her spray everywhere. “Fu-huck,” he laughs, panting. “Yees. Look at that. There you go baby. There you go.”

Below them, Steve looks like he’d like to come again right then and there, his lips parted and eyes glued to the release she’s gotten all over his groin and belly. “Holy shit,” he breathes, chest heaving from his orgasm. “Oh, fuck.”

Lena squeals when it becomes too much, and Bucky eases off, keeping his hand at her neck and wrapping his arm around her waist in a fierce hug. “Such a good girl,” he praises, all the meanness gone from his voice, replaced with tenderness. “Good, good girl.”

She sobs and slumps against him, and he holds her to his body, sitting back on his heels. “Shhh, you’re okay. Did that feel so good, sweetheart? Aw, I know, I know. It’s a lot. You came so hard, huh?” He eases her down with him, spooning up behind her and petting over her heaving, shuddering sides. “It’s over. We’re all done. So good babygirl.”

Steve turns into her from the front, wrapping her up in his arms as well. One of his hands splays out over Bucky’s back, right over his fresh ink, and Bucky opens his eyes and meets Steve’s gaze from over Lena’s head. They share a shaky smile at what they’ve just shared.

“Told you,” Bucky says, licking his lips. He squeezes Lena’s waist and presses them all closer together. “She’s ours. Yours and mine. Made for us.”

“Yeah.” Steve dips down to cup Lena’s face and kiss her. He whispers praise against her lips, telling her how good she is, how pretty, how sexy. Bucky smiles and stretches, groaning at the twinge of pain when his raw skin pulls. He relaxes and buries his face in Lena’s hair while Steve kisses her overwhelmed tears away, telling her he loves her. Bucky hums, hoping that it’s true. If it’s not, it will be soon. He can just tell. Steve and he share such a close bond, and Lena’s always been irresistible, drawing Steve’s gaze even back before Bucky ever told him about their dirty secret.

Yes, he thinks happily. The three of them are going to have something very deep between them. Even now, having shared their forbidden relationship with Steve, they’ve connected on a deeper level. Bucky feels more sated than he has in a long time, his heart at ease now that he’s got his little one back where she belongs, and Steve right there with him, sharing in it. It’s perfect.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, hugging Lena close, his spent dick snugged up against her ass and his back vaguely stinging. Steve’s low voice murmurs only inches away, sweet and tender reassurances for their girl.

Their girl.

Bucky closes his eyes and kisses the back of her sweaty neck, murmuring Sora Mica at her, over and over, putting it out in the open. They don’t have to hide it anymore. Now they can openly revel in what they share, and they can share it with Steve. Bucky smiles, exhausted, sated, elated. They’ve been at odds for so long, the Princess and the Dragon, fucking and fighting. Now they’ve finally found their missing piece, the balm for all their hurts, their white knight.

This is the beginning of them.

Masterlist

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[adventures-with-ana]

— Coming Home —

Viking!Steve Rogers x OFC/Reader // 492 18+ only, minors dni; 3rd person, Steve's POV, no description of his wife or children given Coming home from war was never an easy feat.

Author's Note: I meant to post this the other day and forgot. Whoopsie. But hey, it's my first fic posted in like nine or ten months. I think that still counts towards something.

It was never easy; coming home. Nothing ever stayed the same, or maybe it was just Steve who changed each time he left. Each new battle changed him in a new ways. New scars, new fears, new bodies to bring home for their families to burn. This time there were more than usual. The war to protect their borders had lasted weeks and thought he left with over five hundred men, he was returning with less than half of that.

Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it. If protecting their land was worth all the loss of life. His armies kept dwindling and hew knew that one day, his lands - his people - would be over run by invaders. Walking through the town, seeing all the children playing around and knowing which ones were now fatherless was a heavy burden on his shoulders.

Each peal of laughter was echoed in his head as the clanging of swords, each scream of delight an echo of pain from his fellow warriors. If he looked too closely at the children around him, all he could see were their fathers faces. The faces of the dead and downtrodden. Before he could even reach his own yard, he could hear the pained cries of now widowed mothers as they were told that their husbands didn’t make it through the battle, that they would be burned that evening after their homecoming meal.

The moment his foot stepped onto the soil of his own, personal land, the cries of his own children reached him before their little bodies slammed into his legs. He could barely muster a smile for them as he knelt down and wrapped them in a warm hug.

“Oh, I missed you,” he tells them, trying to remain strong for just a little longer.

When he looks up into the face of his wife, she says nothing. Just reaches out to cup his cheek, knowing the toll each and every new battle took on him. She could practically see the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.

Steve holds her hand to his face, breathing in the scent of her, relishing in the softness of her skin, savoring in the sweet sounds of her voice as she tells their children to go play with their friends. He barely manages to get to his feet, but she helps him stand with honor.

“Let’s get you in the bath,” she tells him simply.

Behind closed doors though, Steve breaks down. He kneels at his wife’s feet, her soft hand petting over his dirty, matted hair as he clings to her and sobs into her dress. She kneels with him and holds him in her arms, allowing him to express the emotions he keeps so closely guarded in front of his men. He could not lead an army into battle like this, but she would never let him carry that strength all on his own.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Seraphim

Chapter Sixteen

Master List  |  Steve Rogers Master List  |  Seraphim Master List

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Warnings: angst, answers, and happily ever afters

A/N: Thank you to Vrabie for your Coffee Update! And for helping me finish this fic!

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[callalillywrites]

A Ruptured Spleen

This story was written and then not posted for @sicktember last year due to my decision that it wouldn't necessarily be canon to the universe I was creating. I have since decided to post it anyway because I do love what I created and I really want others to see it even if it never fits perfectly within the canon I created.

Non-canon story within the The GODDESS Project universe.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Characters: Steve, Bucky, OFCs (Chrissy and Leila)

Fandom: MCU

Sicktember Prompt #5 – Rouge Organ

Word Count: ~1650

Summary: Chrissy has to have her spleen removed after the battle of New York where she took some nasty blows. Steve and Bucky are recruited to take care of her, not that her soulmates are complaining about doing just that.

Warnings: brief hospital stay, mention of surgery, mostly fluff between patient and caretakers

A/N: This series has gone through so many drafts and redrafts & versions that I can't even tell you. With that, this is based off one version where Tony's soulmate is Rhodey instead of Pepper. In this one, she's actually married to Happy Hogan. That will most likely not be the case in the canon of this series. We also have another OFC (Leila) that I'm currently debating her fate in this universe or create another one just for her.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

*****

“You shouldn’t have called them. I’m fine,” Chrissy said, dropping back into the few pillows the lovely orderly had dropped off moments ago. “You could’ve called Tony. He would’ve taken care of me.”

Leila scoffed. “The man you’ve called Pipsqueak all your life? The same man who hasn’t never learned to take care of anyone, much less himself? Sure, he paid for all this fancy medical equipment inside this ridiculous monstrosity he calls the future of self-sustaining building architecture. Oh, yeah, that’s exactly the man I was going to call when you need your spleen removed because you took one punch too many during our fight with Loki and those disgusting alien creatures.”

“Fine. If not Tony, then you could’ve called Rhodey. He’s my brother-in-law, and I know he has patience and a caring nature.”

“Of course, he does. He married Tony, you ninny. Any man crazy enough to attach himself to your brother has to have infinite patience and the ability to patch up an idiot who gets himself thrown through windows.”

Chrissy shook her head. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to have Loki toss him through a window. Though, I do see your point. Rhodey does have his hands full at the moment. You still shouldn’t have called them.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, leaning against the doorframe of her med bay room, “she should have.”

Leila shoved to her feet then. She pressed a quick kiss to Chrissy’s forehead before striding toward the door, sharing a nod with Steve on her way out.

Chrissy could just make out Steve’s quiet words of gratitude while Leila wished him luck.

Steve’s blue gaze returned to Chrissy after seeing Leila off. He shoved off the doorframe and entered the room, taking up the seat Leila had vacated. No words left him though his gaze remained fixed on hers, his mouth pulled into a tight line. Disappointment in her, she had no doubt.

Soft boot thuds alerted her to Bucky’s presence as he took up the space in the doorway. He didn’t enter her room, but his lighter blue eyes didn’t hold back his feelings on this latest matter as he regarded her. Unlike Steve’s intense disappointment, Bucky’s gaze held a hint of guilt, something he hadn’t stopped carrying since their successful retrieval of him from Hydra’s clutches nearly a month ago.

“You couldn’t have foreseen this, Cutie,” she whispered, holding out her hand and beckoning him to join them. “I’ll be fine. They’re taking me to surgery soon to get this pesky thing out of me, then we can go about our lives like we’re meant to.”

“I wasn’t there to keep you safe.”

Bucky’s voice came out so softly she wasn’t certain she’d heard him correctly until Steve sighed.

“She’s right, Buck. It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s mine. I knew she was injured, and I let her fight anyway.”

That had her scoffing. “You let me, huh? Last I checked, Captain, I’m a grown woman living in a time where she doesn’t need any man to protect her or tell her what she can and can’t do. I knew the risks just like everyone else who fought yesterday. I’m going to be fine. I’m a goddess after all with some of the most powerful magic this world has ever seen.”

Steve’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t say anything else. His gaze dropped to his lap where his hands had clenched into fists. The muscles of his arms bunched and relaxed on repeat as he worked through whatever emotions going through him then.

If she hadn’t gotten so worked up herself, she might’ve tried to lighten her tone or eased the snark that came with her words. As it was, her nails dug into her palms to keep herself from saying anything further.

“He didn’t mean to upset you.” Bucky offered one of the first real smiles she’d seen from him since they’d left to tackle Loki and retrieve the Tesseract. “His foot tends to go in his mouth when he’s worried. Always been like that. Takes too much of the world’s troubles on his shoulders, especially those he cares about.”

Sliding her gaze over to Steve once more, she caught the way Steve worried his bottom lip. To keep himself from saying more or worrying about whether she might accept Bucky’s explanation, she couldn’t be sure. It was enough though to have her soften towards him.

“We still have so much to learn about one another. It’s going to take us time, but we’re going to have that time. I promise you both that I’m not going anywhere. If I can survive all Hydra did to me, then this little spleen issue will be but a tiny blip on our future together.”

“Well said, Miss Stark,” one of the orderlies she met earlier said from her doorway. “It’s time to go. Your gentlemen are welcome to wait here until you get back if they’d like.”

“How long?” Steve asked.

“A few hours as long as there are no complications.”

Bucky tensed beside her at hearing the last part. His gaze caught hers for a long moment.

Chrissy brought her hands up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs brushing along the apples of his cheeks. “Knowing Tony, he’ll have his entire movie library available on the televisions here, so why don’t you and Steve pick a movie from Steve’s list? Watch it while I’m gone, then we can talk about it as soon as I’m awake.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the patient,” Bucky managed to tease.

Chrissy pressed a kiss to his nose, grinning. “Oh, I’ll be the best patient for you two once I’m back because I’m coming back. Gone as long as most modern movies nowadays. Barely long enough to miss me. You’ll see. It’s going to be fine.”

She didn’t hear Steve get up or move to the other side of Bucky. When he took one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, she smiled softly at him.

“We’re going to miss you anyway, angel.”

*****

The surgery went smoother than the doctor anticipated as Steve and Bucky would later learn. In fact, the damage to Chrissy’s spleen wasn’t nearly as extensive as the first scans had shown. It frankly had them scratching their heads, trying to understand how she could heal so quickly. A few stitches had been all they need to place before declaring the surgery a success, closing up the small incisions they’d made.

She slept for a few hours in the room where they’d first placed her on the medical floor. If she continued to improve, she would be free to return to her floor with Bucky and Steve in another day. That included a promise from them that she would take it easy for a few weeks to ensure a full recovery of her injured spleen.

They gave their word.

Steve couldn’t help running his hand through her hair every few moments. He hadn’t exactly heeded their nurse’s stern lecture about sitting on the bed with her patient. No, the desire to be close to Chrissy overruled his need to follow any order given at that moment. He did take care with her incisions and the IV in her arm when he settled next to her, not wanting to cause her any discomfort.

The TV played in the background, but the movie itself couldn’t hold Steve’s interest. So, he’d taken to gazing out the window and the darkening skyline of the city. The same city he’d grown up in so many years ago. As much as it’d changed over the decades, he took comfort in knowing that some things hadn’t changed. Even those that had changed weren’t all bad, either, though they had taken some time getting used to.

A deep inhale pulled him out of his thoughts.

He shifted his gaze from the window back to Chrissy, who’d begun to stir beside him. A soft smile curved his lips as he whispered, “There she is.”

“Thirsty,” she rasped.

Her eyes remained closed though she scooted closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder after tucking herself under his arm. His heartrate kicked up when her hand moved to rest on his chest.

“I got it,” Bucky whispered, having returned from his third walk in as many hours. He strode toward the small pitcher on the rolling table of her room and poured her half a glass before handing it to Steve.

“Here you go, angel. Small sips. They said your stomach might be a little agitated after the surgery.”

She nodded, following his instructions.

When he would’ve pulled the cup away, she grabbed his hand and held fast. Her eyes blinked open for a moment to meet his before closing against the brighter lights of her room.

“One more sip, please,” she pleaded, her voice a bit stronger than it’d been before.

“Only one.”

“If you handle the water, sweetheart, we can get you some juice in a little bit and maybe some of those breakfast cookies I heard some nurses talking about,” Bucky promised, having moved from the table to stand near her legs.

With her final sip taken, she sank back into Steve’s shoulder. “That’s sounds nice, but I think I want to sleep some more. Will you stay?”

“We’re not going anywhere, angel. Go back to sleep.”

*****

True to their word, they kept her well-rested and practically spoiled over the few weeks of her recovery. Neither really let her lift a finger or walk if they could help it. No matter how much she pouted or swore she was fine or even threatened them with her magic, they remained steadfast through those few weeks. Even if she would never admit it aloud, she cherished the time as much as they did, spending it getting to know one another as soulmates and as individuals.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Yours Submissively ~ Masterlist

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos. And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

Updates will be done every Friday and Monday!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Main Masterlist

Prologue / Control / Innocence / Intrigued / Infatuation / Excess / Consent / Primero / Contract / Consideration / Communication / Pamper / Masquerade / Realization / Solitude / Experimentation / Flirtation / Innuendo / Adjudication / Desolation / Hindsight / Compromise / Jeopardize / Legacy / Possessive / Advancement / Relocation / Broken / Neglected / Frustration / Conversations / Preparations / Commitment / Devotion / Education / Flee / Sanctuary / Incinta / Devious / Consequences / Understanding / Nacita / Dreams / Yours

[nekoannie-chan]

Social me… what?

Title: Social me… what?

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X OFC (Jenna Marie Rumlow).

Word count: 634 words.

Square: A1, B2, C3, D4, E5 “Age difference, Steve Vs. Social media, Free space, Prison, July 4th/Birthday”.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Is Steve Vs. Social media.

Major Tags: Social media problems, mention of prison, surprise birthday party.

Additional tags: My entry for @steverogersbingo Steve Rogers Bingo Round 4 (Card SB4004).

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish, so I wanna improve my writing skills in English. Please let me know if you notice any mistakes, and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or in other languages (I translate my work myself) or for the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this). I did them exclusively for my fics; please respect my work and don't steal it. Some people here make dividers that anyone can use; mine is not this type, so please look for the other people's dividers. The only exceptions are those I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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Steve Rogers had never really understood social media, and if it weren't for Jenna having taken it upon herself to make him accounts on the platforms, he would probably still be ignorant of their existence. However, that didn't mean he was using them correctly. Jenna had explained to him more than once how they worked, but for Steve, it was still a mystery that he preferred to avoid; it all seemed too complicated, and he didn't understand much of what his “fans” told him.

“It's not that hard, Steve,” Jenna told him patiently. You just have to post things from time to time, like what you like, and respond to comments. There are lots and lots of people who would like to have this number of followers.

Steve looked at his phone as if it was about to self-destruct. He had touched something he shouldn't have on Instagram, and now he was seeing a bunch of miniature puppy videos. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there or how to get out.

“What if I inadvertently do something illegal? “ He asked with a frown, “I don't want to end up in prison because someone misinterprets what I post, other than what is this livestre… thing, and why do they want me to do it when I'm training or when I'm in the shower?”

Jenna let out a laugh and shook her head.

“Steve, no one is going to arrest you for using Instagram. The worst that can happen is you upload a photo with a weird filter or accidentally post something on stories instead of sending it via private message.

Steve wasn't convinced. He was afraid to even like posts. He had tried to comment on a photo of Sam once before and, for some reason, instead of writing “Good flight,” he had ended up posting “Good pigeon.” Since then, I avoided comments at all costs.

“I don't know how you guys understand this,” he grumbled, sliding his finger across the screen cautiously. Before, if you wanted to talk to someone, you just sent them a letter or called them on the phone, even though not everyone had one and it was very expensive. Now it's all direct messages and emojis... what does this one mean? “He asked, showing a peach emoji.

Jenna let out another laugh and decided it would be best not to explain. For things like that, Steve constantly said that he was too old for her and social networks, although Jenna used to ignore those comments; if they didn't count the years he had spent on the ice, it wasn't that much of a difference.

“Just don't use it in public comments. Trust me.”

Steve looked at her suspiciously but decided to listen to her.

He had no idea that, while he was struggling to understand how Instagram worked, she was secretly organizing her birthday party through a private Facebook group. She had contacted all her friends and planned the decorations, the menu, and everything else needed. And best of all, Steve had no idea what was going on, especially since he didn't know how private groups worked.

“I'm glad Steve sucks at technology,” Jenna told Natasha as they finalized the details of the surprise. “I could literally post the invitation on his Facebook wall, but he wouldn't even notice.”

Natasha laughed, nodding.

“Yes, Captain America can't fight social media. It's his only weak spot. I insist we livestream the party. I don't think many people will be watching it; they will be paying attention to the 4th of July party...”

“It's a bad idea; they are capable of coming to the Stark Tower and causing chaos, and maybe Steve's fear of ending up in prison will be fulfilled...”

“You're right; we'll have to keep an eye on Stark.”

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 23

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings: nothing

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 1857

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 23

The plane touched down in Eugene just after midnight.  It was too late to rent a car, so Melody’s brother came to pick them up.  Because they were landing at a private hangar, he could drive onto the tarmac to meet them.  It was funny to come down from a private jet to be met by an early 2000s Dodge pickup.

Melody and Steve approached her brother as the crew loaded the bags into the pickup.  She worried things might be weird between them.  The fight had never been with her brother, but they hadn’t spoken much outside of Facebook and Instagram since she’d moved out.  She’d always worried that he’d taken their side in all of this.

Instead, he came straight to her, pulling her into a tight hug.  “Oh my god, it's so good to see you!”

She hugged him back, relaxing into his embrace.  “You too.  I missed you.  Thank you for coming to get us.”

“Of course, I wouldn't leave you stranded,” he said.

You pulled away and gestured to Steve.  “River, this is Steve.  Steve, River.”

Steve stepped forward and offered River his hand.  “Pleasure to meet you,” he said. 

River was tall enough to look Steve in the eye but he was lankier and more wirey than her boyfriend.  He was wearing his hair in twists and had a goatee.  He also had some new ink that Melody had never seen before.  She wondered how her parents had reacted to that.  He took Steve’s hand and shook it.  “It’s all mine, Cap,” he said.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Steve is fine.”

“Come on you two,” Melody said. “I don’t want to freeze my ass off on the tarmac.”

For Steve’s sake, Melody climbed into the back seat and he got into the front passenger beside River.  She stretched out in the back seat and rested her head against the window, wishing there was a pillow she could use.  It had been such a long day and she just wanted to pass out.  She closed her eyes anyway, listening to the engine and Steve and River’s conversation in the front as she rested in the back.

“How far are we going?” Steve asked.

“It’ll be just under an hour.  We’re a bit out.  Not too bad though,” River replied.  “Mom and Dad will be asleep when we get in.  So you won’t get to meet them until tomorrow.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Meeting your girlfriend’s parents is hard enough without having to do it in the middle of the night.”

“That’s true,” he said.  “But they’re excited to meet you.  And to see Mel.  It’s been a while.”

“Melody and River are very unique names,” Steve said.

River laughed.  “They’re not too bad, thankfully.  But yeah - I think Mom and Dad enjoyed the 60s quite a lot.”

“There was a huge free love movement in the 60s,” Melody piped up from the back.  “Lots of people fighting authority and authoritarian rule.  One of the side effects was people giving their kids names that felt like they were connected to the Earth mother.”

Steve chuckled. “Right.  I guess that makes sense.  Though it seems extra confusing with the whole…”

He trailed off.  Melody knew how that sentence ended.  With the whole incident where they wouldn’t allow their trans niece to move in with them after her parents rejected them.

“Yeah,” River said, his voice dropping a half-octave.  “No one can quite work that one out.”

There was a heavy pause in the air and after a little while it seemed to get a little uncomfortable for Steve.  “So what do you do, River?” he asked.

Melody dozed as she listened to their small talk in the front.  River’s new internship at the Portland Art Museum.  What it was like to wake up in the twentieth century.  At one point River just spoke about how overrated Voodoo Donuts was for ten minutes and then ended with saying he’d drive out there and get some so that Steve could see for himself.

She sat up when the tires began to crunch on gravel.  She blinked and stretched.  The porch light was on but otherwise, the whole place was dark.  The shape of the peaked roofs was just visible in the gloom.  Looking at it in the dark made her stomach twist into knots.  This week had been so terrible with work and his fans and now she was back at her childhood home.  A place she hadn’t returned to in almost a decade after a fight that had left her homeless for over a month.

“You’re really far out, huh?” Steve said as River pulled into the garage.

“Oh, yeah,” River said.  “Dad had this dream to build a house in the country.  This is it.”

“There’s animals,” Melody said. “I’ll show you around tomorrow.”

They grabbed their bags and went inside.  A light was on in the hall, but otherwise, the house was completely dark. Two white German Shepherds greeted them, Melody had only seen them in pictures and she crouched down and held her hands out to try and introduce herself to the dogs.  When River patted and told them they were good dogs, they relaxed and came to investigate Melody and Steve.  “I’m gonna head to bed,” River whispered.  “I’ll see you in the morning.  Nice to meet you again, Steve.”

“You too.  Sleep well,” Steve replied.

“Night, Riv,” Melody whispered.

When Melody eventually pulled herself away from the dogs, she led him down the hall to her old childhood room.  It was just as she’d left it.  Her bookshelf was filled with so many books they were two deep in places, and a collection of stuffed animals sat on top.  Her desk had a stack of papers on it and several novelty pens in a mug with a carebear on it.  Her old desktop computer and printer were still there too.  She’d taken her comforters with her when she’d moved out, so the bed had been made up with some new bedding she didn’t recognize.  She was grateful that she’d upgraded to a full bed when she was in high school because even a full was going to be a squeeze with Steve.  If she’d had a twin bed, someone would be sleeping on the floor.

Steve was completely fascinated by her room.  He walked around it slowly, picking things up and turning them over.  “I can’t believe I’m in your childhood room.

“Different from yours I bet,” she said.

He nodded.  “Very.  I did have a lot of books too.  But I used to stick my art to the walls.”

“Well, next best thing,” she said and pulled open the top drawer on her desk.  Inside were stacks and stacks of notebooks, all filled with her writing.  Poems.  Short stories.  Novels both finished and unfinished.  Screenplays.  Fanfiction.  Thousands of words of erotica, written before she had a real understanding of sex, and full of misguided tropes and physical impossibilities.

Steve pulled the one at the top out and flicked through the pages. “This is all your writing?” he asked.

“It sure is,” she said as she started to get undressed.

“Can I read some of it?”

She scrunched her nose. “It was all written before I left the house, which was a few months before I went to college.  So it’s pretty cringey.  And also probably very bad.”

He shrugged.  “I know, but I’d still like to.  Not all of it.  But I’d just like to see.”

“Okay,” she said.  But not now.  Let me find some that aren’t terribly embarrassing.”

He chuckled and came over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her in.  “How are you doing?”

She shrugged a little.  “I feel a little sick if I’m honest,” she said. “Like my stomach is eating itself.  I’m so worried about tomorrow.  I don’t know if I should try and just pretend nothing happened so we can get through Thanksgiving and you’ll have met them and I’ll go back to New York and nothing will have changed, only we’ll tentatively be back in each other’s lives in some superficial way.  Or if I should confront them and try and get past this because they really hurt me and if they still feel like what they did was the right thing, I don’t want them in my life.”

He wrapped his arms around her so that one hand was pressed to her cheek and the other was on her hip, and he pulled her in tight, resting his chin on the top of her head.  “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.  I hope you know that.  If you want to start the day with a big cathartic confrontation and it doesn’t go the way you’ve planned, we can fly back to New York and have Thanksgiving with our friends.  If you just want to play nice and get through it without any arguments, I’ll smile and make small talk and you can vent to me anytime we’re alone and I’ll nod along and sympathize.  I’m here for you, Mel.”

He pulled back and looked down at her.  “And I get it all.  I grew up in a home of abuse.  I behaved just to get along sometimes.  And I made waves when I thought that was needed too.  I know how tricky family can be to navigate.”

She got up onto her tiptoes and pecked Steve’s lips.  “I love you so much, Steve Rogers.”

“I love you too, Melody Danes,” he said.

He snuggled into his chest again, just listening to his heartbeat and letting it soothe her.  He held her not rushing her along, not trying to make it anything.  He just held her and he didn’t let her go until she was pulled back from him.  “We should really get ready for bed.  It has to be creeping towards two.”

“Good idea.  Where’s the bathroom?” he asked.

She pointed him across the hall and while he washed up, she changed into her pajamas and put her hair into a bonnet.  When Steve came out they traded places, and by the time she crawled into bed, she felt a little less nauseated but exhausted down to her bones.

“You’re probably going to wake up before I do,” she said, as she maneuvered herself so that she was tucked in close to Steve, with her head in the crook of his arm.

“I know,” he said.  “I usually am.”

“You can wake me up if you need to.  You shouldn’t have to meet my parents by yourself.”

He hummed and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ll see how I go tomorrow,” he said.  “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.  Just get some sleep.”

She leaned up and pecked his lips.  “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’ve been asking myself that since you agreed to go out with me,” he replied.  “Night, Mel.”

“Night, Steve,” she whispered.  She closed her eyes, and despite how much stress she was still holding on to, or maybe because of it, she was asleep almost immediately.

// NEXT

[no-not-without-you-blog]

Recipe for Love- Chapter 1

Warnings: Language?, Discussions of potential pregnancy, Discussion of mental health, Pepper being a boss ass bitch. Tony being Tony.

Authors Note: I promise we will get to Steve, but we needed some setup! I hope you enjoy!

Recipe for Love Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Tony, we have talked about this.” Pepper chastised Tony while he walked around, avoiding her gaze. “You have put it off for long enough and now we are almost out of time.”

“Pepper. Pep. My sweet dove.” She rolled her eyes at his nicknames. “I just don’t see why we need to have the  conversation in the first place? They are adults, they don’t need a babysitter.” Tony was in his lab at the compound, cataloging various tools and inventions in progress, having a hard time deciding what to bring with him to his and Pepper’s new home. He knew that he had limited space in his garage/workshop and would have to be selective about what he brought with him. Pepper had been adamant about not having an ungodly sized workshop, hoping that it would keep him from constantly working. It had been one of the many conditions she had placed on him if he wanted to start a family. Less work. She loved that he loved his work, but for so long, her and their relationship had come second at best. Before she would agree to bring a child into the mix, she needed to see that he was serious about slowing down and putting them and her first. Pepper knew that Tony wanted a child terribly and knew that she would need to make him take some drastic steps away from Avenging in order to have that. She knew that if she didn’t put her foot down, there would be a day when he wouldn’t return from a mission and she would be left alone with their child. While he would never fully give up being Iron Man, she was going to do what she could to get him to actually settle down. One of those steps was for Tony and her to move out of the compound. Being in the heart of the action would keep him from ever slowing down.

She sighed, “Tony, you can’t see what I see. It’s hard to see the need for it unless you’re on the outside looking in. Just trust me. It won’t be like a babysitter. But they do need someone here. This place feels so empty all the time, even when completely full of people. They are either on missions, training, or in their rooms.” 

Tony let out a short laugh. ‘This is their job, Pep. After their job is over, they go to their homes. Just like normal people.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. He had no idea what normal people were like. He had never been a normal person. “Yes, Tony, but unlike normal people, they aren’t socializing with others. They aren’t making connections with others. They barely talk to other people outside of work related conversations. That’s not normal. Plus, I know that they are all food scroungers. None of them eat full meals around here. They just snack all the time. They need real food and conversation.”

Tony looked her up and down, his eyes both questioning and full of lust. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant yet? Because this is some choice mothering you’ve got going on. And, by God, is it a turn on.” 

Pepper gave Tony a dead eyed look. “Tony.”

He laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, Okay, I understand. We will start looking for someone.”

She took a deep breath and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Now about that whole baby thing. I think we should just go ahead and get started on trying right now.” 

“Tony. No.”

“Oh come one! It’s the best part of the whole ordeal.” He whined to her, giving her his best pouty face. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled at his antics.

“How about this? You finish packing the lab, and I will be waiting upstairs for you…in the bath.” Tony’s eyes got wide as a smirk crossed his face. 

“Square deal.”

As she walked towards the exit of the lab, she looked over her shoulder at him and saw him staring at her behind as she walked away. “Don’t take too long, Tony. My bubbles won’t last for long.” Winking at him for added effect. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Pepper shook her head and laughed at his sudden and completely unexpected renewed speed in packing. She messaged her assistant to put out a job opening for the position, knowing that Tony would never remember to do it. She would just have to do it for him.

Jo sat in the sleek waiting room of Stark Tower. She had been sitting there for what felt like hours, slowly watching applicants enter the room and exit, looking dejected or frustrated. It didn’t bode well for her interview. Finally, a woman opened the door and called her name. She stood and nervously adjusted her blouse and trousers, frantically trying to smooth out any wrinkles. She followed the woman into the room and was greeted by none other that Tony Stark himself. She wasn’t surprised that he would be a part of the interview process, but knowing he would be here and actually being in the room with Iron Man were two very different things. She allowed herself the briefest of moments to fangirl, however, she was a professional and she quickly pulled herself together and presented herself with as much calmness and charm as she could. The woman standing beside him extended her hand out to Jo and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Pepper and this, of course, is Tony. It’s Ms. MacDonald, correct?” Jo shook hands with the woman, who motioned for her to sit down.

“Yes, but I much prefer to go by my first name, well part of it anyways. Joanna is a family name. But please, call me Jo.”

Pepper smiled at her and looked over the file in front of her. “Jo. I’ve looked over your resumé and I have to say that I’m impressed.”

Tony of course interrupted at this point, pulling up the file in a hologram. “Graduated with a PhD in Psychology from the University of Notre Dame. So really it’s Dr. Jo. Joined a private practice for a few years and then switched to a non-profit. It seems like you have done great work in both. So I’ve gotta say, I’m a bit confused as to your motivation for applying for this position. I mean, it’s a glorified nanny position. Cooking and organizing activities for the group. And you, my dear, are wildly overqualified.” He looked over her with a critical eye.

Jo nodded.  “I understand that, really, I do. I’m looking for a change of pace and this seems like a good fit.” Tony’s eyes squinted ever so slightly as he stared at her, trying to understand her reasoning.

Pepper looked at Tony and saw the wariness and skepticism in his eyes. After the fall of Shield, Tony had had a hard time trusting new people. Especially someone like Jo who seemed far too qualified for the position and hadn’t presented to him a compelling reason for wanting the position. However, Pepper could tell that Jo’s answer wasn’t the whole truth but when she looked over at the woman, she could see a hesitancy to answer fully.

Following a feeling in her gut, Pepper turned to Tony. “Tony, why don’t you give me and Ms. MacDonald a few minutes alone.”

He turned quickly and gave Pepper an incredulous look. “What?” But the look that Pepper gave him quickly shut him up. “Ugh, ok fine.” He got up and grumbled lowly about being kicked out of his own office in his own building. Pepper rolled her eyes and shook her head with a smile on her face.

When he had left the room, Pepper turned to Jo and smiled sweetly at her. “Jo, I’m not meaning to pry, but I felt as if you would feel more comfortable speaking with me about this subject than with Tony.”

Jo took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re not wrong. It’s not an unwillingness to speak with Mr. Stark by any means. I just feel as if he wouldn’t understand my motivations and he, more than most, would reject the reasons.”

“So then you do have reasons for wanting the job?” Pepper prodded gently. 

“Yes, many. But one of the largest is that I was working at my private practice when the Battle of New York took place. I saw so many people who were suffering with the after effects of that trauma. So many were affected by the events of that day and so many needed counseling and were unable to afford it. After a while, I left my practice and started working for the Non-Profit I now work at. I was able to help out so many who needed counseling but wouldn’t have had the resources to access it. My NPO also worked with domestic, sexual, and child abuse survivors. So I’ve been able to work with people who have had such varied needs. It’s been such a growing experience and I have loved working there.”

Jo took a breath and continued on. “Up until this point, I have only worked with people who were largely helpless in their situations, whether that trauma was caused by parents, partners, or aliens. But I started to think about those who did fight back. Just because they fought back, doesn’t mean that they weren’t also affected by it. Just because you are “super” doesn’t mean that you are immune to the effects of trauma. While I don’t know the intimate details of all of their stories, I can imagine that most of the Avengers have suffered immense trauma in their lives. Either before they received their powers, while gaining their abilities, or as a result of them. I also have the inferred opinion that being an Avenger also places a lot of pressure on them to be “okay”. Where they would feel the need to take care of others and often forget or refuse to take care of themselves as a result. Again, I don’t know any of this first hand, but I imagine you do, and I ask you, am I wrong?”

Pepper was taken aback by Jo’s spot on observations of the team. If she was honest with herself, she had been concerned about the same issues herself.

“You’re not wrong. Being who they are takes an immense toll on them and I see them struggle silently instead of reaching out to anyone.” She thought for a moment and then continued. “This is why you were hesitant to speak to Tony about this.”

Jo nodded and smiled. “Tony, more than most, seems like someone who doesn’t like to admit that he needs help. He wouldn’t understand what you and I see. Everyone needs someone they can lean on and I imagine that the team as a whole and also as individuals may not have that currently. They need someone who isn’t a part of that world to just be there for them.”

Pepper sat and listened to Jo’s reasoning, realizing that she was that person for Tony. She had been unable to fully form what she was looking for in someone to fill this roll and Jo had just described it perfectly. Not someone who just does the basic cooking and group outing coordinator. But someone who can understand how to deal with the issues that the team has. She smiled widely. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

She called Tony back in and stated very matter of factly that she was going to hire Jo for the new position, making Jo smile brightly and Tony to look indignant. “Whoa, wait a second! This is my position to fill. I didn’t even get to be here for the interview.”

Pepper gave Tony a look that could stop a team of ox in their tracks and he instantly straightened up out of his mini temper tantrum. “Yes, Boss.”

“Good boy.” She whispered while patting him lightly on the cheek, a smirk on her face. She then turned to Jo. “I’m so excited you are joining the team. HR will get your paperwork straightened out and give you instructions for your move to the compound.”

“Thank you Pepper, and you too, Tony. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Tony still seemed miffed at his lack of decision making power in the moment, but when Pepper started to give him a look again, he quickly turned to Jo and shook her hand. “Well, I guess there’s nothing more to say than welcome to the Avengers.”

[innorogers]

Heliophilia

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: Why are you always hiding from him?!

Warning: Fluff / Fluff / Very Fluff / Comfort / Very Comfort / Sooth?

Characters: OC, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff

Also: This a new series ❤️ It's called: Burning Sun ✨

As far as Steve Rogers had been led to believe, the world adored Captain America—the symbol, the shield, the unwavering ideal. And not just the world—his teammates, the Avengers, and everyone he led—they liked him too. Sure, he was serious, but he was also kind, funny, and always a gentleman. He combined the decisiveness of a commander with the empathy of a brother-in-arms, leading not from arrogance but from an innate understanding of his soldiers’ hearts.

But beneath the weight of the shield and the praise, there was always one person whose gaze seemed to cut through the surface, treating him with an odd distance. It wasn’t disdain, though sometimes it felt close, nor was it indifference. It was something more elusive, more personal—a quiet tension that stirred between them.

Yeah that was the polite Jane Austen version.

In reality…

"What is wrong with her?" Steve exhaled after you’d given a laser-focused, perfect-in-every-way mission report, nodded politely, and walked away. Turning to Natasha, he finally voiced the question that had been nagging him for what felt like a million years: "Am I some kind of monster?"

"Who? Oh, her Captain...?" Natasha replied with your last name after the title, barely glanced up from the game on her phone, one she’d started five minutes after the briefing meeting started. "Why would you say that? Why are you picking on her… ?" Again.

"It’s just…" Steve ran his hand through his hair, a little more frustrated than he cared to admit. "She’s so… polite."

"Last time I checked, that was a good thing."

"And she’s always so… distant. If I’m standing here, she’s in the opposite corner, or hiding behind the curtains." That last part was an exaggeration, of course. You never actually hid from anything, but it felt like a metaphor for the way you always seemed far away from him.

Natasha didn’t blink. "I’ll tell her to sit on your lap next time."

"I’m nice." Steve said, walking by her side, nodding and smiling at everyone who greeted him with a courteous "Captain."

"Yup, you are."

"And respectful."

"No one like you, Cap."

"So why is she so strange to me?" Steve couldn’t understand. You’d been working together for almost two years, and still, your answers to him were: "Yes, Sir." "No, Sir." "Yes, Captain." "No, Captain."

Sometimes he ran into you in the halls or elevators. He tried making small talk—"Had a fun weekend?" "Yes, Captain." "Nice weather." "It is, Captain." But he quickly realized it was better to smile and endure the awkward silence.

You never looked him in the eye. You always looked at the floor. Sure, the Carrera marble on Level 2 was impressive, but it wasn’t that fascinating.

"So, is this a ME problem?" Steve resigned. He constantly reflected on himself, but this time, he couldn’t figure it out.

Of course it’s a YOU problem, Natasha thought, rolling her eyes. She had lost that level of her game anyway, so she pocketed her phone and shook her head. 

"Look, she’s just a tough player, alright? She likes to keep people at a distance. You can’t blame her for not being a social butterfly. And she’s like that with everyone."

"No, she’s not. She’s relaxed around Clint, Vision, and Bruce," Steve argued, he knows that because you typically confined your hair in a sleek ponytail, but when you are at ease, you start arranging it by letting it cascade, and he seems you do that sometimes when you talk with these folks. Those lucky bastards.

"She has casual conversations with Tony, talks about pilates with Maria, and she’s practically friends with Sam."

"Everyone’s friends with Sam," Natasha gave him a 'duh' look. Then, resigned, she said, "Look, just talk to her."

"Talk to her?"

"Yeah, like normal people do." Natasha gestured between the two of them. "Tell her how you feel about the way she acts and maybe that you’d like to… be closer."

"I…" Steve wanted to say he tried so many times, but then he asked himself: why his immediate response wasn’t ‘I don’t wanna be closer I wanna know what’s going on’? Maybe it is because being closer is what he really wants.

"And maybe then you’d know why…" Natasha added, shaking her head. Everyone knows why, Rogers. The girl had been in love with you since day one.

“And Steve…” Black Widow opened her mouth but then decided to shut up. She glared at him and just said it in her mind: maybe you don’t want to smile like that when you are thinking about her? It’s a little creepy. 

But she just smiled: “Talk to her tomorrow, you know, in a casual…encounter? So it doesn't sound like you are giving professional feedback about her behavior.” She waves her head in a suggestion: “You know, tomorrow's Family Day, I think it's a great chance to chat…”

“Hmm…” Steve nodded, hesitant. Good idea. 

Miss Heleana Christensen from the Data Department was a girl everyone loved. 

Silky skin, a petite figure, wavy brown hair, and dimples that appeared when she smiled. She wore large, round glasses that constantly slid down her nose, which she’d push back up with a finger now and then. When she was deep in thought, her lips would purse tightly, making the dimples on her cheeks flicker in and out of view—she was that kind of girl-next-door everyone adored, not just for her looks but because she was so damn cute.

Her job wasn’t fun—in fact, data analysis? Thank god there were professionals handling those never-ending Excel sheets and querying big data in the infinite Stark Industries database. 

But she worked hard, striving to perfect every task, because she wanted the ‘mightiest heroes, the best team in the universe’ (her words) to receive only the most accurate and flawless reports. She put all her effort into making sure everything was right. 

She actually believed she was saving lives, not excels.

Who wouldn’t like such a hardworking sweetheart?

So when Helaena asked Captain America if he wanted a coffee at Stark Industries’ Easter Charity Event, aka Family Day, with her sparkling eyes and cute dimples peeking from her smile, even Steve Rogers—who was always careful not to give any colleagues the wrong idea—found it hard to say no.

Family Day was held the Saturday before Easter every year. On that day, employees brought their families to the outdoors (the massive private Stark Industries compound) for games, picnics, barbecues, and maybe a picture with the Avengers for their kids to show off at school. 

It was a huge thing, and almost everyone attended. Though family members were encouraged to come, most attendees were single, turning the event into something of a casual dating scene.

“I would be honored.” Steve smiled, accepting her offer, and of course, he wasn’t about to let her pay for the coffee. Ever the gentleman, he bought the coffee and cake himself, but when he went to pick them up, he noticed you behind the counter.

Fuck, you didn’t have the chance to hide.

“Hey.” Steve smiled at you. A little surprised. He actually was looking for you everywhere.

“Captain.” You glanced at him once before quickly lowering your eyes, instinctively taking a small step back. Ugh…look at you: white t-shirt, jeans, and a ridiculous pink apron with a coffee stain you poured on yourself two minutes ago. You really wished you were wearing your blood-stained, sand-covered badass gear instead, but no, you had to be like a first day in work barista.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, glancing up at the booth sign. “I thought this was the data team’s booth?”

The charity event was set up like a kermesse, with each department having its own booth, and all the proceeds going to Stark’s foundation. As if that would add any zeros to its wealth.

“Um… I’m just helping out a friend,” you replied softly, forcing the least awkward smile you could. “What can I get’ya?”

“Oh, um… two cappuccinos. And… I don’t know…cake?” He blinked a few times as he scanned the menu.

“The apple pie just came out hot.” You brushed a strand of hair covering your face, feeling yourself blush. “And I think it’s low-calorie?” You say that, but what the fuck would you know? You rolled your eyes at yourself in silence.

“Sounds great.” Steve smiled warmly. “I’ll take two, thanks for the calories heads up.” 

He handed over the cash, but in an awkward moment, you missed grabbing it. The bill slipped onto the counter, and as you both reached down to pick it up, the moment your fingers brushed his skin, you recoiled like you’d touched a live wire.

“I am so sorry.” That was dumb as fuck. And you called yourself an elite soldier with these reflexes? God help this planet because you surely couldn’t.

“No, my bad.” Steve chuckled, shaking his head, and wondered—why are you acting like this, AGAIN? Was he really that intimidating? 

Just as you turned to get his change, a voice called out from behind the booth, “Yo, I’m back! Thanks for covering.” Your coworker returned with a big smile. “Hey, Cap! What can I get ya?”

“Hey, George. Got everything I needed already, thanks.” Steve greeted him with a smile and handed over the order. You were already stepping away, untying that ridiculous stupid stupid! apron.

Steve wanted to say something, but then a voice called from behind.

“Cap!” Sam appeared, clapping Steve on the back. When he spotted you, his grin widened graciously. “Oh man, did you finally make a move? Did you ask her out?”

That made you freeze. Your hands paused, still hanging up that pink thing. You held your breath, not daring to look back. Or to breathe. Damn it, Sam.

Steve exhaled in exasperation at Sam’s not-so-subtle comment. “I gotta go.” He muttered, giving Sam a warning glare. “Knock it off.”

“Oh shit.” Sam whispered, watching Steve hand the coffee to Helaena as they walked off together. Clicking his tongue, Sam shook his head. “That was awkward.” 

Then when noticed you trying to walk away unnoticed, he approached with a sigh.

“You know…” Sam leaned in a little with a knowing smirk, “You should tell him something if you want anything to happen.” He tilted his head toward Steve, who had walked off with Haelena but still glanced back at you once more.

“I’m not…” You rubbed your forehead. “Is it that obvious?”

“I mean, no… not to everyone. But I’m The Falcon, ya know? Top-tier observation skills. So yeah, I noticed.” He grinned brightly. 

“And so have Natasha, Tony, Wanda, Vision, Bruce, Maria, Clint, the Parker kid, Thor, the cleaning lady, your crew, my crew, even the bald guy with only one eye… you get the idea.”

“Great.” You were mortified. Maybe asking for a mission to Saudi Arabia tomorrow would be a great idea so you can get the hell outta here.

“Well, since we’re on the subject,” Sam added casually, “I think he knows, too.”

“What?” Nope, Saudi is not gonna do. Asgard now, sounds quite far enough.

“And I think he likes you, too.” Sam continued. “So maybe stop acting like a teenage girl, and be the badass sniper you are? Ask him out for a drink or something, I’ll bet first rounds he’d say yes.”

“I…” You didn’t know what to say. “I… I’m not…” 

And your gaze wandered back to Steve, who was walking with Helaena, his smile as gentle and radiant as ever.

That smile.

It was like sunshine cutting through clouds, golden rain filtering through the mist at dawn. Warmth that chased away the darkness, scattering any lingering shadows.

You sighed, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m not…that.” you finally said, looking at Haelena. 

Look at her: she’s cuteness in person. The kind of girl who could open her heart and arms, ask for hugs and kisses with a bright smile, make people feel lucky to have met her, bringing sunshine, and stirring feelings of tenderness or protection.

You lacked many virtues, but self-awareness wasn’t one of them. You knew exactly what you were: ashes of war, bullets cracking in helmets, blood and sweat, sleepless nights, anxiety, stubbornness, and severe insomnia.

“Exactly.” Sam smiled at you, his tone encouraging. “You’re just the most badass woman I’ve met…”

He paused.

“...after Nat, Wanda, Pepper, Maria… but you know…”

“Nope.” You laughed softly, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t think I am.” At all. 

So Family Day hadn’t gone as expected. Steve had done plenty of talking, just not with you.

He hadn’t seen where you’d been all day, so his last chance was on the bus taking everyone back to the facility. He noticed you slipping into the last row. As the door closed behind him, the bus started moving, and he caught glimpses of you in the front-row mirrors.

You sat alone at the back, no one nearby. Should he move closer? This might be his chance—maybe his last one—before you returned to your usual role as the distant, official soldier, always holding up an invisible shield against him. 

Steve sighed, watching you. The sunset cast a glow on your silhouette, drawing a golden line in your contour, you looked like an ancient Greek statue, frozen in time and in eternal beauty, taking his breath away.

Then, without warning, you stood up, and Steve frowned. 

What's wrong?

The attack hit before he could even turn around. 

A missile struck from the right side of the bridge, blowing half of it apart. Fortunately, the traffic was sparse, but the explosion left a massive hole, and several cars couldn’t stop in time, plunging into the gap.

The air filled with the acrid scent of burning debris as the bus windows shattered. The bus collided with other vehicles that had braked suddenly, crashing several times before finally stopping. Instinctively, Steve threw out his arm, shielding those around him from the impact.

"Is everyone alright?" He called out, standing up and scanning the bus. His eyes anxiously searched for you among the dazed passengers. Natasha and Sam had already jumped out of the broken windows, moving into action.

"Open the door!" Maria, blood trickling down her forehead, kicked open the rear exit, supporting a nearby passenger. "Everyone out!" she urged.

"Three V65 drones." You muttered, pressing your hand to a cut near your eye as you struggled to your feet. The ringing in your ears from the explosion made it hard to focus. 

"Northwest direction... G9 missile. Fires every minute and a half, maybe two." You reported aloud while helping Maria guide people off the bus.

"Evacuate everyone," Steve sighed in relief after finally seeing you. "Everyone." He repeated, his eyes locked on you.

But, of course, you didn’t consider yourself as "everyone." You were already off the bus before he could called you out. After helping Maria get the rest of the passengers out, you returned to the back, retrieved the gear, and took cover behind an overturned car.

“I’m a minute away,” Tony’s voice buzzed through your comms, accompanied by the hum of his suit. “I’m with Sam in the air. We’ll get the people near the river out first.”

“Make it quick!” Maria ordered, firing behind the defense line Steve had set up amidst the chaos. “Who the hell are these guys?” A second missile whooshed through the air just as she finished.

Iron Man deflected it with a repulsor blast, but much of the enemy fire began targeting him in midair. He barely managed to destroy the missile that posed the biggest threat before getting hit by another shot, almost knocking him out of the sky.

The missile struck the riverbed, shattering the bridge’s support. The ground beneath you began to tilt as cars slid down into the chaos, dust and debris swirling around. But the enemy fire didn’t stop.

"Sam, break through their front line!" Steve commanded, dodging falling cars as he raced up the slanted bridge, pulling Maria with him.

“Watch out with the cars rain!” Natasha called out with a hint of amusement, also making her way upward, dodging vehicles sliding into the water. "Feels like Washington all over again."

“Washington wasn’t that fun, we weren’t even there…” Tony quipped from above, just before stopping mid-sentence. "Cap, behind you...!"

Steve spun around, but he was too late. Two gunshots echoed, and a figure appeared in front of him, taking the hits meant for him.

You hit the ground hard but got up quickly, clutching your wounded shoulder, your fingers digging into the wound to staunch the bleeding.

Before Steve could react, you had already raised your gun, aiming past him. He hesitated, stunned, but two more shots rang out, passing a hair's breadth from his skin, followed by the grunts of fallen enemies behind him. 

He couldn’t even process, and you were an all blur of motion, storming past him like a whirlwind.

You kneed the first attacker in the jaw, grabbed the second by the elbow, twisted his arm until you heard a ‘crack’, and used his own knife to dispatch him quickly. Then turned his weapon on the third, shot him down before he could even trigger the damn thing.

"Damn!" Sam muttered, watching in awe as you moved swiftly, fiercely.

Two bullets weren’t enough to slow you down. Pain was good. It kept you sharp, focused.

You surged forward like an arrow, calculating distances, the wind, mapping enemies at your sight. 

You were pissed. 

No, pissed was not even close to describing it.

You were furious. 

The thought of anyone attacking him like that, of him being hurt, filled you with a fire that made you faster, deadlier.

This was the kind of soldier you were—driven by adrenaline, pain sharpening your senses, your fury igniting your determination, making you more dangerous with every wound. And that anger... oh that was just the cherry on top.

"Enemies at my 12." You reported, spotting the last of them. But before you could act, the ground beneath you cracked, and you slid down as the bridge crumbled.

Massive chunks of concrete tumbled into the water below, the steel and iron reinforcements snapping like fragile threads. You fell along with the debris.

“Get her!” Steve’s voice broke, filled with panic. "Now, Sam!!"

"On it!" Falcon swooped down, grabbing you just in time, lifting you across the collapsing bridge. As soon as you landed, you were already moving, sprinting ahead.

"Where are you going?" Sam shouted.

"The sniper’s that way!" You yelled back, leaping over overturned cars. "VG5 ammo—they’re likely still in the same spot. South of where I was."

You were fast, crouching down, and aiming. "Wind at 30 km/h, bullet speed at 400 km/h..."

"Distance: 200 meters..." You steadied your breathing, focusing. "This shouldn’t be a problem.." you muttered, despite the pain throbbing in your shoulder. Your left arm was nearly useless, but you gritted your teeth and kept your eye on the target.

You just needed to focus. 

You’ve done this shit a hundred times and in worse conditions. 

So, focus.

Two shots, and one of the snipers fell. The others scattered, but your bullets found them quickly.

"Wow..." Sam whistled in disbelief. "Girl…I didn’t mean this when I said ‘go back into badass mode’."

He reached to pat your shoulder, then noticed the blood soaking through your uniform. "Shit, you’re hit."

"You're hurt," Steve arrived seconds later. "Let me see—how bad is it?" His voice cracked with concern. “What were you thinking?! I could’ve blocked those shots with my shield…Why..." The thought of what could’ve gone wrong—the bullet straying, Sam not reaching you in time—tightened a knot of fear in his chest.

Before he could inspect your wound, you collapsed from blood loss.

Steve caught you just in time, lifting you gently as a groan escaped your lips.

"Nice catch, Cap," Sam quipped, still finding time to joke.

"Shut up!" Steve snapped, uncharacteristically irritated, as he cradled you in his arms. The scent of blood filled his senses as he looked down at your pale face. You hadn’t completely passed out, but you were clearly in pain, biting your lip to stay silent.

As he carried you, you curled away from him, avoiding contact. 

Damn, why are you doing this again? Steve almost grunted in frustration, but then he saw your pale face and his heart just clenched.

"You’re making this hard for me." Steve sigh as giving up, he spoke as softly as he could. 

"Here, let’s..." He gently moved your arm around his neck, tucking it in place. "There, better?"

"I... I don’t want to stain your clothes with blood," you muttered weakly.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stared at you, trying to not lose his temper in your stubbornness, frowning slightly. "You saved my life. And you’re hurt."

Quickening his pace toward the medics, he added. "You could burn all my clothes and I wouldn’t give a damn."

Of course nothing happened between the two of you after that attack, Steve was too busy getting his hands on whoever the fuck that was behind the attack, he was outraged. 

Well, not only him, the whole Level 1 and above were in the same state, like…who the fuck would dare to attack the Avengers so publicly? They felt invaded and insulted, even if the whole enemy team was captured or eliminated, that didn’t take away the fact that everyone went through danger. On family day!

Steve was pissed. Not only because all the investigation took 90% of his time, but also because he didn’t even get the chance to see you while you were lying in the hospital. All that stuff he was planning to tell you in a private and emotional state? Didn’t happen, at all. 

“What do you mean she’s been discharged?” Steve demanded, after reviewing your health report on the tablet. He set it down sharply on the desk and looked at Maria, his tone serious. “It’s been three days. She took two shots to the shoulder. How could she be discharged so soon?”

Commander Hill received the “I told you to go easy on this topic” look from Sam, and scowled to Steve: “I…don’t make the rules? She is level 1, Cap, I don’t think she received the same treatment as in a regular hospital…I bet this is where Stark’s healing magic tech kicks in.”

“Shit.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Alright... fine. Do we know where she is?”

How in the world would I know? Maria thought but offered, “We could track her mobile. It’s probably on 24/7.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Steve didn’t want to do that, to intrude your privacy, but he was worried. He didn’t even know why, or…as whom was he worried, as your supervisor, your team mate, your fellow work pal? Like, you weren’t even that close. 

“Yes. Do it. Send her location to my phone.” Grabbing his jacket, he added, “I’ll be back in a few.”

“…” Commander Hill opened her mouth to say something like ‘I gotta more important shit than crashing to your crush’s mobile’, but Steve already left the room, she looked at the completely silenced room full of all the Avengers, and just did a ‘what just happened’ face. 

“Five bucks says he doesn’t get the girl today.” Tony broke the silence.

“Yeah, I’m in.” Clint was the first to respond, followed by Nat and Rhodey.

While the others were placing bets on your so-called romance, Steve was already tracking your phone. At first, he thought the GPS was glitching because it was leading him to the MET.

Actually, it was working perfectly (Tony would later smugly confirm that). You were at the Captain America exhibition, which had been relocated from Washington to New York after the Smithsonian became a crater, courtesy of a Helicarrier.

Steve slowed down when he found you in the exhibition hall, his steps halting completely when he saw you.

It was a weekday, during work hours, so the place was nearly empty. 

The natural light streamed in from the ceiling, casting large patches of sunlight that quietly illuminated your silhouette as you sat on a long bench, bathed in a soft, glowing light.

Your gaze floated, like a gentle river, to the black-and-white photograph on the wall in front of you.

It was one of the few preserved images of Steve before the serum. Back when he was a slender, delicate young man with refined features, frail and thin.

Steve barely remembered looking like that. These days, all he saw in the mirror was his current self—tall, strong, healthy. Now, standing in front of that photo, he found it almost unfamiliar, though he could still faintly recognize the determination in those unchanged, resolute eyes.

But you—he was looking at you. Your gaze was so tender, your head tilted slightly upward, a faint smile playing at your lips. The soft curve of your mouth radiated quiet contentment, and in your eyes, there was nothing but the reflection of that photograph.

Nothing but him.

That’s when Steve knew.

There was nothing else, in your eyes, but him.

All his nervousness and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a sudden warmth and joy.

Leaning against the wall, Steve realized he had the same look on his face. You were gazing at a photo of him, and he...was gazing at you.

And in his eyes, there was nothing else, but you.

You heard the soft echo of footsteps behind you and turned slightly, freezing in place when your gaze met his.

He was standing in front of you, every inch of his silhouette outlined by the backlight. Just his presence, just being in his shadow, made you feel incredibly safe. For a moment, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. But instinctively, you lowered your gaze, flustered.

You wanted to hide. You felt like a mess—a bandaged shoulder, probably some ash still in your hair, and the faint smell of the hospital clinging to your skin. But he was already sitting beside you.

“I used to get sick a lot back in those days.” Steve said, his eyes on the picture of his younger self. “Whenever the seasons changed, I’d get fevers and runny noses.. Spring was a little better, but the pollen made my asthma unbearable. And summers...” He sighed. “Brooklyn was a nightmare. Hot and humid. My joints ached constantly. Joining the army was probably the worst idea I had, but I was stubborn.”

He laughed softly. “Stubborn as hell. When it comes to what I want, the goals I’ve set... and the people I care about.” 

His eyes never left yours, and you could see your own bewilderment reflected in his steady gaze.

“I don’t buy it for a second... that you don’t know.” He said softly, pausing for a moment before you lowered your eyes again.

You wanted to hide, but under his gaze, there was nowhere to escape.

“If you were so afraid... why did you take all those risks for me?” Steve asked, his voice quiet. Why were you so fearless on the battlefield but treated him like something to fear in everyday life?

“I remember everything, you know?” His voice softened, distant as he recalled the past. “All the risks you’ve taken. Sometimes... reckless, bold...”

He shook his head, a mix of frustration and admiration in his voice. “God, I remember our first fight, you broke enemies lines, just to get my shield back…I was desperate, and then you come back with that…impeccable yet stubborn as fuck attitude ‘I’m sorry Sir but I had to do it’ shit, drove me crazy. I didn’t know what to do. You wouldn’t step back, and I knew, even if I suspended you, you’ll just go and do the same stupid and impulssive thing next time.”

You smiled faintly, looking down. Of course, you remembered. You had a scar on your back from that mission. One you wore with pride.

“So why?” Steve whispered, searching your face. “Why would you risk everything... and then hide?”

“What about you?” You asked, finally looking up at him. “On that plane, at the end of the war, why did you stay until the last moment? You could’ve escaped before it crashed into the frozen sea. I’ve seen the reports. You could’ve swam away. Why did you stay until the explosion?”

“I couldn’t,” Steve answered without hesitation. “The stakes were too high. If it didn’t explode in the sea, it would’ve been New York. I couldn’t let that happen, not even a small chance. I’d rather die than…” He stopped, getting your point.

“Right?” You nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “…than having that risk?”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Your sincerity, your determination—it made his heart ache.

Goddamn it…Why do you have to be so obstinate, inflexible, reckless…loyal, brave and fierce? He would spend the rest of his life worrying as fuck, fearing for this willingness to sacrifice attitude of yours.

Almost instinctively, he reached out and covered your hand with his. His voice barely above a whisper.

“What are you afraid of?”

Your lips move, you want to pull your hand away from his grasp, but you find yourself without the strength. 

Because you wanted him. 

As a leaf growing from a seed breaking out from the ground and reaching out to embrace sunlight and warmth. To embrace life.

You want to hold his hand back, feel his palm against yours. You know that feeling him, would be enough to know that all is well in the world, that there’s nothing left to fear. You could exist freely and quietly behind him, fearless. 

This wish. So strong yet so powerless, makes you so vulnerable, you could barely exist in his presence. 

You hesitated for a long time, trying to put the words together, trying to tell him the truth yet not burden him, and finally, you speak in a low voice.

“If the ending is something you can’t bear... isn’t it better to avoid it?”

Steve stood silent for what felt like an eternity. 

“I promise you.” 

He brushed a stray lock of hair from your cheek and lifted your chin so your eyes met his.

“There will be no ending.”

You could barely breathe at these words. Yet your heart was beating so strong, so fast, so loud, you felt it was going to explode.

“I'm scared too.” He sees your expressions, your broken soul, your fear of heartbreak and the endless uncertainty to lose something you longed for a lifetime. 

“But…” He cupped your face in his hands as if you were something precious, something he had been waiting for his whole life. 

“Being with you…it’s worth it, I’d rather have you and risk heartbreak than not have you at all.” 

The sunlight bathed you both, it was so bright and dazzling that it brought your eyes with tears.

“And I know I can’t change you,” Steve continued, his voice filled with quiet resignation. “You will continue to be this… badass goddess of war, in the first row of any fight, any battle to come. But I’ll try my best to shield you, from any danger, any suffering, or any pain. I’ll do my best. With all I have.” 

“No.”

Your expression shifted, and after a few heartbeats, you slowly smiled up at him.

“There’s no such thing… as suffering, pain, or danger…” You whisper, finally turning your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes seem to shimmer with unshed tears. “Not as long as it is with you. I’ll take it all, I’ll walk on fire and…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, his lips claim yours.

That kiss… wasn’t gentle as you imagined. Instead, it’s forceful, filled with a possessive intensity. Maybe it’s because Steve has been holding back for so long, and now, that surge of determination finally breaks free.

His urgent need to have you, the longing that had kept him restless for so long, felt like a crashing wave, carrying with it all the emotions he had hidden away. Steve’s hand cradled the back of your neck while the other wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

It was like every first kiss in the world, filled with breathless exhilaration and the glorious wonder of a starry night. 

His lips claimed yours with an intensity that took you by surprise, yet it felt natural, inevitable, as though this moment had been written in the stars long before either of you existed.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but something in Steve shifted. It was as if he’d made a silent vow in that kiss—one you couldn’t hear but could feel in the way he held you, how he kissed you like the world was ending.

In the quiet of the exhibition hall, surrounded by photographs and memories of his past, none of that mattered to him. Not the image of Captain America, not the accolades, not the expectations.

In that moment, it was just Steve, kissing the woman he loved. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care who saw. He didn’t care if the whole world was watching.

Every poster, every photo hanging on the walls was of him, of the man everyone else expected him to be. But right now, none of that mattered. He was making a choice, and it wasn’t for show, wasn’t for the sake of his legacy. It was for you, and only you.

The world beyond the walls blurred. There were no battles, no looming responsibilities, no enemies lurking in the shadows. Just the two of you, as though time itself had slowed to witness this one fragile moment.

As your lips parted, both of you breathless, your foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, feeling the shared pulse of your heartbeats.

There was so much you wanted to say, to ask, but the words wouldn’t come. You were there, in wonderstruck, as standing in the middle of a vivid dream.

Steve spoke first, his voice hushed but filled with a resolve you’d rarely heard before. 

“I’m not going to let you run away again,” He whispered, his hand still gently cupping your face. “Not from this. Not from us.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze—those same resolute eyes that had stared back at you from that black-and-white photograph, unchanged by time or transformation. You knew then, with the same certainty as his, that there was no running away.

You won’t run. Or hide.

Not anymore.

End, but probably will continue ;)

Oh yeah, I love this fierce yet fragile OC. This is actually the translation of an original piece I wrote back in 2021? Originally in chinese so I'm SO SORRY if it's weird reading it in english cause...well, struggling with the words, hehe. But I loved this piece so much I wanted to share it with you, cause damn, I loved him so much in that part of my life :3 (I do love him still.)

And for my babes that are waiting on Miracle Nr. 12! I'm so sorry not posting about it this week cause I'm still trying to figure out whether continue with the angst plot, or the original angst and dark as f... plot that's leading the story to a very very sad and dark twist. Still has an happy ending, I promise. It will be there on next Friday!

Oh I'm sorry I got carried away writing so much hehe, hope you enjoyed it!!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

let me know if you want to be added! 🥰

✨ Miracle Nr. 12 ✨ Series:

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia | 8: Lull | 9: Vigil | 10: Eclipse | 11: Veil

[stellar-solar-flare]

Share The Love!

This is my entry for @marvel-oc-hub Share The Love Valentine's Event! The idea was to create two moodboards, graphics, etc, one for your own fic and one for a favorite writer of yours.

As there are so many amazing writers in this community, it was impossible to choose the best - but I have truly enjoyed @themaradwrites's story Learn to Fly (AO3) because Sam and Andie are just adorable together. So this is my moodboard for them, I hope you like it, Mara!

And for the second part of the challenge, I created a board for my Steve Rogers x Asgardian!OC fic The Fringes Of Fate (AO3, Explicit). Fringes was the first time I dived deeper into the mythology and fantasy elements that have very much become a staple in my writing. It mixes Marvel Norse Lore with Norse Mythology, and the central theme is the power of love triumphing over everything.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3399

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background/minor themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Series Masterpost for all chapters

2. Hazelnut Ganache Tart

Mary does sober up during her shift.

She feels kind of miserable, so she’s thankful that it’s a slow Monday. She’s also vaguely ashamed of how she’d shown up to work. It’s a new low, even for her. And then someone had seen her and called her out on it. It’s mortifying.

The encounter with Bucky preoccupies her thoughts all day, and she winds up burning a batch of croissants as she daydreams. She’s more careful after that, taking extra care with the assembly of her hazelnut ganache tarts.

Focusing on the intricate details of the pastries, on executing them perfectly, helps her to calm down and forget about the embarrassing encounter. For a little while at least. Alcohol would be better, and by the time she’s clocking out she’s already thinking about getting home so she can have the relief of a drink.

Or ten.

If anything, she throws back the first few even faster than usual, eager to wipe the memory of what’d happened that morning out of her mind.

Bucky, she thinks acerbically. What a stupid name.

And the nerve of him! To just assume those things about her. Has that loser never seen somebody hungover at work before? It's quite the presumptuous leap from that to … submissive.

‘Dominant’. Mary rolls her eyes. He could’ve just been making it up. Probably was. She’s certainly never met anybody who’s just come out and announced it the way he had. What a bizarre thing to do. It’s not like it’s something people go around broadcasting. It’s … well it’s a mental disorder, isn’t it?

They’d mentioned it in her Psych101 class back in college, but she’d dropped out before that semester was halfway through. Unable to help herself, she pulls out her phone and googles “Dominant,” then navigates to the Wikipedia page on “Dominant and Submissive Personality Disorder.” She winds up getting sucked into reading about it. But as soon as the article starts talking about the submissive subsection, she closes the browser in discomfort. 

She remembers back to the encounter with that guy—Bucky. He hadn’t seemed like there was anything wrong with him (other than being bossy and intrusive as fuck).  But where the heck did he get off throwing out psych diagnoses at total strangers? Mary's cheeks grow hot the more she thinks about his cocksure attitude and the pitying way he’d looked at her.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Doll.” 

She remembers how he’d spoken to her, how he’d called her out on her behavior and spoken so assuredly, like he could see right into her. Like he knew all her secrets. It’d been unnerving.

Her pulse quickens as she thinks about it. The way his big hand had felt, wrapped so securely around her wrist. And how he’d squeezed her wrist—slowly, gently.

“Oh, honey. I think you are.” 

Fuck, it’d made her knees go weak.

Sighing, she takes the bottle of vodka and her glass to the couch and plops down, using the remote to turn the tv onto YouTube. She starts up a playlist that she can lose herself in—music videos, stuff from all the tv shows she likes, edits, fail compilations, whatever. Maybe it’s pathetic that this is how she spends most nights, but there’s no one that she has to impress. And she can’t bear the feeling of being alone in her brain otherwise. At least this way everything is warm and entertaining. She pours herself a little more, throwing off the ratio of vodka to ginger ale, but the taste doesn't bother her nearly as much once she's on the third or fourth drink.

The bottle’s half empty, and she wonders if she’ll finish it. She’ll be drunk again at work tomorrow morning, if she does. Yikes. She’ll stop after two more. One more. Two more.

The bottle’s three-quarters empty and an Adam Lambert music video is blasting on the tv. He really is the most underappreciated vocalist of his generation! And he’s got such nice makeup, too …

Maybe she won’t even go to work tomorrow, Mary thinks manically. They don’t appreciate her there anyway. Maybe she’ll just stay here and drink the rest of this and enjoy herself until… until…

The bottle’s empty and the party’s in full swing. No worries though, she thinks, she’s got some of that nasty cheap rum in the back of the pantry. Blecgh. She orders DoorDash that she doesn’t really have the money to be wasting on, puts on makeup while lip syncing to the tv, and thinks about calling Chase to tell him what a loser he is and how glad she is that they broke up. Haven’t had to use this concealer to cover up anything but acne in over a year.

Rum isn’t so bad when you mix it with orange juice!

She gets on a depressing video kick. She bemoans the state of politics, then society, the world, her life. She goes through all the old pictures in her phone and gets pissed at the ones with Chase in them. She imagines running into her ex somewhere random, with a super hot new boyfriend on her arm. She imagines the dumbstruck expression he’d have on his face, and how she’d introduce her way-hotter new boyfriend to him. 

Ohmygosh, Chase! How’ve you been?! Oh me? I’m doing great. This is Bucky, he’s a surgeon-slash-green beret-slash-musician. Ha! Yeah well we just got back from two months in the Bahamas, so that’s why we’re so tan. 

It’s the rum, Mary decides. It makes her sad. She stops feeling fun and happy, and starts feeling lonely and morose. She finds the cardboard sleeve that Bucky had written that phone number on. Hell no, she’s not calling it. She’s got the internet. There’s tons of info online about this stuff that she can look up. Besides, it’s just curiosity. She’s not like him. She's not like that.

She googles BDSM disorder and clicks on the first search result, which winds up being porn. That’s a mistake, but then she decides to watch the porn anyway, because it’s sexy—plus, it's sort of educational, right?

The porn starts making her even more sad. She stares at the paper cup sleeve in her hand while some girl gets the tar beat out of her backside. The last video had been an over-the-lap spanking video—Mary had liked that one. But this doesn’t look nice at all. Especially when the guy switches to hitting her with a friggin’ stick. 

Is this the sort of stuff Bucky likes to do? Jeez.

She has the receipt that Bucky wrote his own number on, too. On impulse, she pulls out her phone and starts to enter a new contact. 

“Asshole Dom Bucky,” she mumbles as she types the words and saves the new contact number with a giggle. It takes more than one try, her fingers not hitting the right keys very often, but she gets it done. 

She comes very, very close to calling Bucky, but winds up calling the hotline phone number instead at the last minute. She’ll whine and cry to them instead, she thinks. At least they’re strangers. She can tell them anything. It’s confidential, anonymous. They can’t tell anyone what she says.

A woman picks up the phone and greets her in a calm, friendly voice.

“Hello, my name is Sharon. I’m a volunteer counselor at the National Submissive Crisis Intervention Hotline.”

“Whatever,” Mary slurs. She is so drunk. She gulps more of her rum and OJ, thinks about going and getting the little razor blade that she only thinks about picking up when she’s wasted. Sometimes it feels nice to do something outrageous when she’s this sad. Nobody can stop her from it, and that feels nice, too. “M’not having a crisis,” she mumbles.

“Okay,” Sharon says, voice still so pleasant and accommodating. “What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Okay Mary. I’m glad you called. Would you like to talk to me about what you’re going through? We can talk about anything you’d like.”

“I’m not a freak,” Mary blurts out. “You know? Submissive, or whatever. I’m not. M’normal.”

“Okay,” Sharon says calmly. “Well just so you know, I’m not here to judge. I’m on the spectrum myself.”

Mary blows air through her teeth disdainfully—though deep down, she guesses it’s nice to know that. "So what," she mutters. "You're like, a submissive?

“I’m actually dominant, but I’m not going to do anything to try and boss you around or control you. I’m just here to listen to and support you.” 

“Oh.” She looks down at her glass, feeling like she doesn’t even want to finish drinking it. She’s tired … And sad. “Kay,” she mumbles. “Well I’m not. Like that.”

“You don’t think you have a designation disorder."

Designation disorder, pfft. Mary scoffs again. “Yeah, no.”

“Then why did you call tonight? Do you need someone to talk to?”

She grumbles unintelligibly, then repeats herself when the woman on the phone prompts her. “Some guy just gave me this number. He said that I was.”

“He said that you were what, Honey?”

“… Submissive.” She says the word quietly, embarrassed of it. “But what does he know, right?” She huffs. “Fucking stranger. He doesn’t know me.”

“Okay. What are you going through tonight?” Sharon asks, still sounding kind but also mildly worried. “Do you want to talk about that? About what made you call the hotline?”

Mary sniffles, feeling stupid. She’s suddenly tearing up and she doesn’t even know why. She wipes her eyes hastily and takes another big sip of her drink. “I’m drinking,” she says tearfully, bluntly, expecting to be scolded for it. "M'drunk."

“Okay,” Sharon says. She doesn’t sound mad. “Okay Mary, are you by yourself right now?”

“Yeah. M’in my apartment.”

“Okay. Okay. … Do you drink alone there often?”

Oh. That hits hard for some reason, and suddenly Mary’s crying, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to hold back a sob.

“Mary? Are you there, Honey?”

Honey. Mary cries harder. That's what Bucky had called her. She likes hearing it, but also she feels desperately sad because it reminds her about how she’s all alone and doesn’t have someone to call her ‘Honey’ or ‘Doll’ or ‘good girl’. And nobody’s ever spanked her over their lap, either. 

“Mary?”

“Yeah,” she says, voice all choked up. “Yeah, m’here.”

“Okay. Good.” Mary can hear the sound of typing on the other end of the line. “How are you feeling Mary? Do you think we could make a plan together? Maybe drink some water and get you ready for bed? It’s late. You must be tired, huh?” 

Mary sniffles. “Um,”

“It’d make me so happy if we could make a plan, Mary. Would you do that for me?” 

“... Yeah.”

“Oh, that’s so great. Good girl.”

Mary’s face crumples. She’s not a good girl. She’s not good at all! 

Sharon hears her crying harder and asks worriedly what’s wrong. “Mary,” she says, voice sharper—stern-sounding. “Mary, you need to talk to me and tell me what’s happening.” 

“Sh-sharon?” Mary cries. “What I tell you is private, right? You won’t tell anyone or report me, will you?”

“... The goal is to keep you safe, Honey. I’m here to help you do that,” Sharon says. “You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

She sounds so kind and caring, so steady, and it makes Mary want to tell her everything. It’s been so hard, not having anyone to talk to. And anyway she’s already crying at this point, and it feels good in that way that crying sometimes does, so she might as well. It’s confidential.

She takes a deep breath, takes another big gulp from her glass, and starts spilling her guts to this stranger named Sharon over the phone.

Bucky’s phone rings early in the morning. He groans as he wakes up, grumpily reaching for it. He peeks at the red numbers of the alarm clock over on Steve’s side of the bed: 4:30 AM. 

If this is a robocall this early in the morning, he’s going to be tempted to commit capital murder. “Hello?” he rasps.

“Hello. Is this, um … ‘Bucky’?”

It’s a man’s voice. Bucky squints blearily up at the bedroom’s popcorn ceiling. “Yeah? Who is this?”

“Sir, my name is Officer Santiago with the New York Police Department. I’m calling from Holy Cross Hospital.”

“Hospital?” Bucky says, more alert at hearing that. “You’re a cop?” Why is a cop calling him? Bucky can’t think of a good reason.

“Yes Sir.”

He sits up in the bed. Beside him, Steve starts waking up, too. “Mmph, who is it?” he asks sleepily.

“What’s happened?” Bucky asks, dread already curling in his gut, imagining who could be hurt or dead at the hospital that they’re calling him at this hour …

“We have a woman here,” the officer says. “She called a crisis hotline. The operator was worried about her safety, she contacted us.”

“Those hotlines are supposed to be confidential,” Bucky growls.

“She was making threats of self harm. We had to pick her up. We’ve got her down here at the E.R. at Holy Cross. Involuntary hold.”

“Wait a minute ... What was the hotline she called?” Bucky asks, as the thought occurs to him and he hopes he’s wrong. “It wasn’t a D/s hotline, was it?” 

Beside him in the bed, Steve is grimacing and rubbing his eyes. “Babe?”

“Some submissive crisis line, yeah,” the officer says. 

Bucky’s heart sinks. The woman from the coffee shop yesterday. “Mary,” he murmurs, remembering how neat and cute her handwriting was on her nametag and on the side of his to-go cup. “Shit,” he says.

“She’s stable. She has minor self-inflicted injuries but nothing life threatening. We found your number in her phone.” Here is where the officer starts to sound uneasy. “You’re listed here as her, um … her Dom.”

“I … am?” Bucky’s eyebrows climb his forehead. He hadn’t thought the girl would keep his cell number, let alone save him as a contact. He’d thought he’d pissed her off, that she was too proud, too mortified.

“Babe, who is it?” Steve asks, awake now and frowning at Bucky in concern. He can tell something’s wrong. Bucky shushes him with a gesture and Steve’s face flashes with annoyance. Bucky gives him an apologetic wince.

“Specifically, you’re listed under ‘Asshole Dom Bucky’.” The officer clears his throat uncomfortably. “She wouldn’t give us a number to call, and department policy is to contact designation partners, if possible.”

Bucky opens his mouth to tell the officer that he’s not Mary’s partner, that he doesn’t even really know her. But he stops himself, thinking about what happens to subs who get dragged into the E.R. and go unclaimed. “I … yeah,” he hedges. “Yeah, that’s me.” After an awkward pause and feeling guilty for the lie, he checks, “You said she’s okay?”

“Yes. She’s pretty upset, and intoxicated. But the doctor checked her out and said she’s okay. Well … physically-speaking,” he adds awkwardly. “They’re ready to admit her.”

“Psych unit?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky sighs. “No. That’s not good. It’d be better if I came and got her.”

“Okay.” The officer sounds relieved. “She uh, she’s pretty upset.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that,” Bucky says. “What does that mean? Is she frantic?”

“She’s angry,” the officer says, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep his voice low now. Bucky wonders if Mary is somewhere in the near vicinity of the officer. “Drunk and super pissed. Belligerent.”

“Is she restrained right now?” Bucky asks, worried.

“Yeah. Cuffed to the bed.”

Bucky grits his teeth. “She shouldn’t be restrained by a stranger. It’s not healthy for her. Can't you just watch her?”

“Sorry Sir, that’s our policy when we bring in the involuntary cases. We have to do it.”

Bucky is already up and heading to the closet to grab clothes. “Okay,” he says curtly. “I’m coming to get her. I’ll be there within the hour.”

The officer thanks him and Bucky hangs up. He looks back at Steve, who is propped up on his side and staring at him in something close to shock. 

“Buck, what the hell?”

Bucky winces and goes back to the bed. He climbs up and takes Steve’s hand. Steve isn’t on the spectrum, but his dynamic with Bucky has always been more on the subservient side. Bucky sees that he’s not mad, is just waiting for an explanation, so he takes a breath and tells him, “You remember the woman I told you about? The one at the coffee shop?”

Steve nods. “The lemon tarts.”

“Yeah, her. She’s in the hospital. A psych hold, that was the NYPD on the phone. Somehow they think I’m her Dom, and she’s being difficult. Won’t give ‘em a name of anybody they can release her to.”

“Oh, man.” Steve is well-educated on the intricacies of Designated people: He’s married to one, after all.

“Baby.” Bucky rubs the back of Steve’s hand. “I have to go get her.”

“You don’t ‘have’ to,” Steve corrects. He looks at Bucky knowingly. “But you want to, don’t you?”

Bucky doesn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or not. “I … yeah. I want to.” He and Steve have talked about the possibility of bringing another person into their marriage one day, a submissive to meet Bucky’s needs. Steve has always been open to the idea, especially since they’re both bisexual.

“We gonna try and make that work out?” 

Bucky scoffs. “That’s way down the road.”

“But it would be good for you too, wouldn’t it?” 

He shrugs, and then admits, “Yeah, probably.” Bucky’s what’s known as a ‘high needs’ dominant. The condition affects him more severely than it does others. He tries to figure out if Steve is at all upset by what they’re discussing. “It’s crazy, I know,” he says. “Not exactly what we always talked about. We don’t even know her.”

“But she’s in trouble,” Steve says. “And you were drawn to her.”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t think she has anyone else to go to. And they’re talking about admitting her to the psych unit.”

“That’s not good, is it?”

“No. They won’t have the knowledge to help her. Places like that tend to use meds first and ask questions second.” He sees Steve’s wince and nods. “It could definitely make things worse.”

“What’s wrong with her? Subdrop?”

“I don’t know. Cop said she was self-harming and drinking. That’s all I know so far.”

Steve nods. “Can I go with you?” he looks hopeful and ready to jump into action, and Bucky is surprised—even though he knows he shouldn’t be.

“Babe, you want to do this? Bring her home? Take care of her?”

Steve nods, stalwart. “We should try. It’s the best option she has. If it works out, great. And if not … well we can get her the help she needs, at least.”

Bucky nods. Steve is on-board. He doesn’t think this is stupid, or crazy. Bucky’s chest swells with affection for him. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Steve leans over and kisses him on the mouth. “I trust you,” he says. “And I love you.”

Bucky smiles, stupidly in-love with his husband. “Love you too, Stevie.”

They kiss once more, and then Steve is pulling back and clapping his hands together. “Alright! Let’s get going if we’re really doing this.” He hefts himself out of the bed, moving with purpose. “She’s waiting for us.”

Us, Bucky thinks happily, realizing that it’s true: They’re husbands—soulmates, in his opinion. They’re partners, an inseparable unit ever since the day they got married, and they do everything together. So it’ll be the two of them taking care of this woman together. They’ll be a team, each giving her what she needs in their own ways. And maybe it’ll go somewhere, who knows? Thinking about it makes Bucky feel settled and satisfied inside, the barest ghost of the sort of feeling he gets from domming someone.

Impulsive as it is, he’s got a hunch that this is the right decision.

Series Masterlist

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[astheskycries]

Accepted- Finale

Planning a wedding with the man she loves and working small jobs with SHIELD seems like an easy task, but now that Jonathan is dead, Maggie and Steve have to continue tracking down HYDRA and cleaning up the mess left behind- which is easier said than done when the Winter Soldier has returned.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Masterlist Buy Me a Coffee  

The steady beep of the monitor pulls me from the peaceful void of darkness, forcing me back to consciousness as I force my eyes open. The smell of antiseptic and an oddly sharp scent of clean drags me out of the peaceful void, and I turn my head to see Steve standing with a doctor, looking angry as he speaks with Helen Cho. I catch “blood loss” and “best we can" before the she notices me, rushing over to check the machine and my vitals. 

“Maggie,” Steve breathes, relief flooding his previously furrowed features as moves closer, gripping my hand in his. “You’re ok, you’re safe.” 

I swallow, brows furrowed as I try to sit up. “Where-” 

“Hey,” He gently stops me, instead helping me carefully shift upright to more of a sitting position. “We’re back in New York, Tony was able to rush you back for surgery. You lost a lot of blood…” 

“We almost lost you.” Dr. Banner says quietly, moving from the doorway to review what Cho checked. “If you’d been any later… Well, we were lucky to have Dr. Cho here to help. She was able to repair the cells so you could heal faster.” 

I nod slowly, trying to process as I accept the small cup of water Steve hands me, a bit uneasy as I feel his gaze never leave my face. “Where’s Natasha and Wanda? Are they ok?” 

“Everyone is fine,” He soothes, thumb gently stroking my knuckles. “They’re resting in their rooms.” 

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, finally able to relax knowing they’re ok. “Steve… We need to talk. About everything.” 

He nods, eyes unreadable as his features harden a bit. “And we will. But right now, I care more about you and your health.” His hand gently brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. “I don’t want to interfere with you healing and getting better.” 

“That’s not going to affect my health.” I say flatly, eyes narrowing a bit as I watch his mask slip back on- the Captain taking its place. “We’re not going to accomplish anything if we keep pushing it off.” 

Steve releases a long breath. “… Alright. But give us a bit longer, just to make sure you’re stable. Please. When they almost lost you…” He swallows, shifting uncomfortably. “For my peace of mind. Then I promise we’ll talk.” 

I nod, understanding the compromise- how much I scared him, all of them. “Deal.” 

Bruce comes over to press a button, looking as distracted as usual as he jots things down in his notebook instead of the tablet Helen has. He never was able to fully swap to Tony’s tech, especially when he was so worried about the Hulk. “How’s Barnes? I saw he was cleared of all charges.” 

“He’s fine.” Steve says dismissively, thumbs still stroking my knuckles like a lifeline. “I was stupid to be so worried with Tony and T’Challa. I was so scared to lose my best friend again... I let it ruin the life I have now.” 

I swallow, still not fully convinced. “What are you really doing here, Steve?” 

Bruce awkwardly clears his throat, mumbling how my condition is stable as he quickly excuses himself. Steve’s brows furrow as his face studies mine, features slowly sagging as he seems to realize I’m serious. “I wasn’t lying. You scared me, I thought I lost you. Seeing you there... I never want to be without you again.” 

I swallow. “Steve...” 

He shifts to kneel next to me, hands taking mine as he makes sure my eyes are on his. “I love you, Maggie. I will never let you go again.” 

I release a breath, hands squeezing his. “We still need to talk. And work out everything, and probably talk to someone.” 

He kisses my knuckles. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have you back. I want you in my life, by my side, however you’ll have me.” 

I blush, reaching to cup Steve’s cheek and relaxing once he leans into the touch. “I missed you, Steve...” 

Steve smiles softly, turning to kiss my palm. “I missed you too. And there is someone determined to make sure I never forget it.” 

“Bucky?” 

He flushes a bit, looking a bit guilty. “The jerk never stopped asking about you. He wanted me to stay with you, but I was too stubborn to listen.” 

I giggle a bit, enjoying the embarrassment on his face. “Good,” I tease, giggling more at the face Steve makes. “Sounds like I owe him one.” 

“Oh, don’t tell him that, it’ll go straight to his head.” He grins, kissing my fingers again before rising. “Let me see how long they need you here, then we can get you more comfortable at home.” 

... 

I hum to myself as I flip the page in the file, lounging back on the couch with one of Steve’s warm blankets across my lap. “It looks good Scott, you sure you don’t mind the extra work while I’m out?” 

Scott shrugs, trying and failing to not look like he’s staring at our small apartment. “I don’t mind, gives me something to do while Cassie’s gone.” He nods at me. “You feel any better?” 

I shrug a bit, setting the file down. “Sometimes. I’m tired of being on bedrest, but it’s healing so I can’t complain.” 

“She still tries though,” Steve chimes in, winking at me as he passes me another water. “I appreciate you bringing it here.” 

“Of course, anything for the Captain.” He nods, excusing himself to leave and accidentally shutting the door hard. “Sorry!” 

“I like him,” I grin, watching Steve settle into the cushion beside me. 

“He’s good,” Steve hums, rubbing my leg. “A bit excited, but a good head. And more than happy to keep you busy while you’re off.” 

I make a face. “I’m trying...” 

“Hey,” He gently squeezes my hand. “I know you are. I know what it’s like to be pushed to the sidelines, I get it. That’s why I thought having you more on this side was easier.” 

“I thought it was because you hated writing reports,” I tease, laughing when he rolls his eyes. “I know what you mean, Steve. I appreciate it, especially with everything going on.” 

He nods, gently stroking my knuckles with his thumb. “Is Zoe still coming over?” 

I nod, perking up. “Yeah, her and her new boyfriend. I heard a lot about her being moved, but I’m ready to meet this new guy she’s been excited about. It’s good seeing her happy.” 

Steve grins. “Good, I’ll make sure dinner’s all ready, get some beers in the fridge, whatever you guys want. Except you,” He eyes me playfully. “No alcohol with your medicine.” 

“Oh whatever,” I wave it off, getting more comfortable. “If that’s the worst thing I have to deal with I’m fine.” 

He opens his mouth to retort when there’s a sharp knock on the door, pulling his attention. “That must be Zoe.” He hums, easily tugging the door open and freezing at the sight of Zoe and a familiar man waiting, the taller man looking a bit nervous. “Buck?” Steve stares, glancing between the two. “Are you-” 

“Yeah,” He grins sheepishly, holding Zoe a bit closer to his side as she relaxes against him. “We kind of- met when I was on the run.” 

I blink, staring at Zoe. “I get a story someday, right?” 

“Of course,” She smiles, moving over to hug me. “You’ll be the first.” 

Bucky smirks at Steve’s bewildered expression. “Wake up, punk. It’s not the 40s anymore.” Steve snaps out of it enough to shove him, making Bucky laugh. “It was a fluke, Steve. We just happened to connect.” 

“I think it’s great.” I smile at Zoe, not missing how genuinely happy she is. “The more the merrier, right?” 

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “Honestly... If it were anyone else, I’d be worried. Not you two though,” He accepts Zoe’s side hug, grinning at Bucky. “Besides, it makes it easier to have you guys as our best man and maid of honor.” 

“Wait- Are you?”’ Zoe looks between us, smiling when she sees my nod. “Of course! Whatever you guys need, we’re there. Right?” She glances at Bucky, seeming a bit embarrassed.  

Bucky’s all smiles, looking at her like she holds up the sky. “Right, doll. Any time.” 

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[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Seraphim

Chapter Fifteen

Master List  |  Steve Rogers Master List  |  Seraphim Master List

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Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: blood, gore, language, violence

A/N:  Brought to you by the amazing Mea C through coffee updates! Thank you for everything, luv!!!

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[ebiemidnightlibrarian]

𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖘

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒔

𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 | 𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒙 𝑴𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒔𝒕 | 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝑫𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆

𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒔𝒕* | 𝑫𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝑫𝒓𝒚𝒂𝒅* | 𝑫𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

*the names might change later

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒓

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑴𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑳𝒊𝒑𝒔 | 𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒓 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝

𝑫𝒓. 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝑲. 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒌𝒂 𝑶𝒍' 𝑩𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆

𝑭𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 | 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

𝑫𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒁𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒌

𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 | 𝑫𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒁𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒌 𝒙 𝑳𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒌

𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒔 & 𝑺𝒆𝒂 𝑾𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 | 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒙 𝑷𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰

𝑫𝒓. 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑵' 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 | 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑵 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑺𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐁𝐂

𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝑴𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝒔 𝑶𝒏 | 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]