#Steve Rogers X OFC

[innorogers]

Reverie

Steve Rogers x Reader (You)

Summary: Steve doesn't care about you past, but he is hesitating if he should take things further. Until he saw that punk trying to make a move on you...wait, did he say his name is Walker? John Fucking Walker?!

Warning: Minors DNI / Minors DNI / First Time / First Date / Fluff? / Smut / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: Natasha, Tony, OCs, John Walker, Timeline is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive.

Also: You don't have to read the previous two chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️

Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid

"We'd better get going…" you panted between breaths, your words more moans and whispers than actual sentences. As his lips moved further into your skin, the glasses of the windows grow foggier and steamed.

"...I know... we should," he replied, marking your collarbone with his voice hoarse and raspy. One hand pressed against your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, while the other tangled in your hair. "I just don’t think I can…" he muttered, kissing your breast and leaving love marks, sucking and soothing them.

Me neither. You thought to yourself while grabbing his head to pull him closer. And I don't want to.

But the car horns honked twice outside the building, jolting Steve to a halt.

"Shit, I don’t think we’re getting away with this..." he sighs, breathing heavily as he rested his head on your shoulder, trying to calm his body. It was hard, though, especially with you looking the way you did—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, forehead damp, and lips swollen. Goddamn, you are sexy as fuck. Your shirt was half-torn, shoulders marked with bites, and you were panting in a way that drove him wild.

"We need to..." He tried to button up your shirt but sighed and gave up. Honestly, he wanted to do the opposite.

You laughed, fixing his messy hair. Jumping off the desk, helped straighten his collar. "There." You smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As much as I want to stay, we’d better hurry."

"I know, I know..." Steve grumbled as the car honked again. "Do you need to change?" he asked, adjusting his shirt and glancing at the waiting car.

"Nope, thank goodness for this," you said, grabbing your lab coat. "Or it would be too obvious." You covered yourself and smoothed out your clothes.

"Too obvious of what?" he teased. "You think they’ll suspect something?"

"Well... no." You quickly got ready and helped him by tugging the back of his shirt. "I doubt anyone expects us to show up together—they’ll just think it’s a coincidence."

"Tony knows. That’s why he sent the damn car." Steve scoffed, taking your hand as he led you outside, opening the door for you.

"In his defense, this meeting was set two weeks ago." You smiled, taking his hand once seated, fingers intertwined as you sighed contentedly. "I just forgot because I was... very distracted."

The car began moving, thankfully driverless and on autopilot, giving Steve the chance to take your hand again. The cool AC calmed both of you, letting you think more clearly. You tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, but it was impossible when he started kissing your fingers.

"He wants us to concentrate and send a car with no driver?" Steve grinned as the campus blurred by. “He is challenging my imagination.”

"Maybe no one wants to see what’s happening here," you whispered in his ear, as if anyone could hear. "Or we'd have to kill them afterward."

He laughed, finally relaxing, just holding your hand and gazing out the window.

You tried too, looking at the passing green grass and buildings, but your eyes kept drifting to him. And your mind is going wild. 

OMG what you’ve done, and what's happening here.

You and Steve had only met two days ago on the training field at midnight. Both of you were suffering from insomnia, and what began as a friendly, slightly naïve conversation to help each other sleep turned into the best night of your lives. 

And now... this.

Well, you weren’t sure what "this" was. 

After that night, he walked you to your room, kissed you goodnight, and probably went straight to read your file. 

Then, the next thing you knew, he showed up at your secluded lab and kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Until your boss/friend Mr. Stark interrupted you from heading a home run all the way, by calling to remind you there were cameras everywhere and that PG-18 scenes should be saved for after hours or, better yet, off-campus. 

He also kindly reminded you that the meeting both of you were expected was in 20 minutes. And just in case you "got carried away and lost track of time," his words, he sent the car.

After a few seconds of silence, as you try to make sense of things, Steve suddenly realizes: "I don’t even remember what this meeting is about."

"It’s not a meeting. Technically, it’s a... how’d you call it? Hmm... an opening ceremony?" You repeat the words Tony used when he walked you through it. 

"Important people from important groups are coming to visit around, and to make peace after the Blip. They’re deploying their heavy hitters, so all our level 3s have to be there."

"And you’re... level... 2?" Steve asked, trying to recall. He had read your file but only focused on some key details of your past, not the present.

"I’m a level A," you chuckled at Steve’s 'is that even a thing?' expression and explained, "Just like Peter Parker. I have access to everything, as long as Tony wants me to."

"Oh... and... why do you need to be there?" Steve wanted to know more, but as the car approached the destination, he could see people walking toward the grand hall.

"Well, I’m not expected by the guests, but by Tony. And you know what they say: the most dangerous place is the safest. After all, I’m not exactly on their 'white list'..."

You saw his expression change, and he tightened his grip on your hand. "You shouldn’t be hiding. You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I didn’t?" You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t had the time, or the courage, to read your full file. He was just following his instincts about you, his feelings, and his heart.

"But still, I don’t think they’re ready for 'this'." You gestured to your intertwined hands. 

"And this shouldn’t be the topic of today’s conversation. I think this event is more about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ kinda stuff…"

That made him laugh. He leaned his head back against the seat, muttering softly, "I wouldn’t care if they saw us."

"Eventually." You smiled at him. "And there’s something sexy about keeping it a secret, Captain." You sit in closer. "I like it." You blinked, motioning to the people passing by the car. 

"When they’re out there... and they don’t know... about this." Then you leaned forward to give him a kiss.

Steve’s body tensed at the touch of your lips, so you immediately pulled back, thinking you were pushing too far. 

"Yeah you are right, I’m sorry, they might have seen us..." You nervously glanced outside. "Although these windows..." and before you could finish, he grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you deeply and fiercely, leaving you breathless.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low and ragged, as he bites your lower lip. "It is sexy. I love when you do things like this...it drives me crazy..."

“Oh…” your face was burning: “That’s settled then.” And you see the car is about to enter the parking lot arriving at its destination: “Can we do that again?”

Steve let out a loud chuckle before leaning over and kissed you gently: “Yes ma’am.” 

To be honest, he doesn’t know what he is doing either.

As soon as Steves leaves you – You’ve finally decided to enter the compound separately, but not before he kissed you deep and hard in the elevator – His mind starts to clear. Senses are coming back to him.

As one of the greatest military tacticians in history, Steve acknowledges your past: a Hydra experiment, held captive your entire life until your escape and rescue; he knows you weren’t brainwashed, but borned and raised under Hydra’s control, and yes, he met you just two days ago.

His reasonable mind is making a lot of rational thinking as the military savant he is, and his strategies have always been like complex webs of logic, each thread delicately woven to ensure victory, while his enemies find themselves ensnared before they even realize it.

So yeah, he should be analyzing you, reading your file, investigating your past, predicting your moves—or at the very least, watching you closely to see if any remnants of Hydra remain.

But instead…

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You were steps ahead of him, and he felt like seeing you through those large professional lenses, where all the background is blurred in macro, drawing circles of light, and only your silhouette is sharpened.

You were smiling and nodding to people saying hi to you, a little bit shy, somehow oddly adorable... He was in awe. Some folks saluted you as if with…respect? He observed quietly. He even saw a lab guy saying to his teammate something like 'omg she said hi back to me'.

What's your superpower, Steve wondered. 

He’s sure he never noticed you before (how could he have missed you?), and he's certain you’ve never been on a mission together.

Suddenly, someone with a lab coat runs by your side, all excited as if they've drunk ten coffees in a row. 

"Dr. Lancaster, Dr. Lancaster? I figured it out..." He shows you an iPad, and Steve can see how everyone around you is pretending to be minding their own business but is actually listening to the conversation.

“…If we could modify the energy matrix in the arc reactor, we could potentially bypass the Coulomb barrier altogether…we can be talking about cold fusion without the magnetic confinement…!” The lab guy seems all over the clouds.

“Oh.” You look surprised yet shy, you sweep your hair back: “um…How do you plan on stabilizing the reaction without the electromagnetic field imploding?”

“I knew you’d get it!” The tech was so excited he nearly dropped his glasses: “What if we shift the reactor’s frequency to align with zero-point energy fluctuations?” He was jumping all over the place: “The Casimir effect could, theoretically, counterbalance the repulsion long enough to initiate fusion. No magnetic field required!”

“You wanna um…tapping into the vacuum energy of the quantum field to power the reaction?” You look amazed but concerned: “I mean, sure, theory holds, but the amount of energy you’d need to harness would be… astronomical. How do you prevent runaway entropy?”

“If you can artificially create a gravitational lens, focus the zero-point fluctuations and keep them from destabilizing. That’s how I did it.” A voice chimes in from behind. 

Tony, hands in his fancy suit pockets, shrugs and taps his watch. "Five minutes everyone, or you'll miss the warm-up act."

When everyone hears the big boss, they start walking faster toward the compound. 

Tony glances at you and the lab tech. “Test that theory using vibranium as the containment medium. It can store large amounts of kinetic energy without degrading, so you won’t vaporize this whole place. The first prototype is broken and used, so…we can get another one. And honey…” He turns to you and, with a glance at Steve, sighs in irritation. “Ugh... forget it.”

Tony walks past Steve and whispers as they head inside, "Ten minutes late. That’s a first."

“And worth every second,” Steve replies, giving you a final glance, smiling as he notices your blush.

“So... what’s her talent?” he asks once they’re a bit further away.“Being super smart?” 

It sounded sarcastic but he was super serious. Steve might’ve once thought being smart wasn’t a superpower, but after witnessing what Tony and Bruce can do, he now knows it’s one of the most powerful things of all.

“Yeah ‘smart’ is not even close, ‘brilliant’, or ‘magnificently intelligent’ would be the right words, and also…not that’s that important, but um…” Tony makes that typical ‘not a big deal’ face, trying to play it off.

“She…um…She possesses bio-synthetic ocular emitters that generate and manipulate high-frequency electromagnetic radiation across a variable spectrum, allowing her to penetrate solid matter and perceive stratified atomic structures and molecular compositions in real-time, facilitated by a neuro-integrated quantum processing cortex that reconstructs layered 3D imaging at the subatomic level with unparalleled precision."

Tony winks at Steve. And then rolls his eyes and says: “She’s got some kinda X-ray vision that lets her see the layers and components of things.”

“Couldn’t you just say that…”

They walk past the people and head backstage, where the team and a bunch of other people are waiting. Steve knows they won't be able to continue the conversation due to all the smart chat they'll need to do with these VIPs, so he stops before entering the room.

He needs to ask the most important question.

“Why did you keep her? Nat said you went through hell to keep her out of the feds' reach. Why?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. Oh, Rogers, you’re falling hard, huh? He blinks at Steve. 

“Do you want me to be brutally honest?”

“Don’t I always?”

Iron Man started counting: “First, I genuinely think that someone with those powers would be highly prejudicial and harmful if she is on any side but ours. Second, I like her, well, not in the same way you like 'like' her...…but she is good, she is…” He tries to find a word: “Selfless. That makes me nuts, cause when you have no human ambition, what you gonna do to be a keeper, right?  Aaaand third, she asked. So...”

He shrugged his shoulders and started thinking aloud and spoke quickly as Tony always does. “You know what? This is perfect, yeah, so…I’ve struggled…no, never mind, this is perfect. Yeah ok, we gotta go…” 

He tilts his head toward Pepper, who’s staring at him. “Before I get locked out tonight.”

Steve has a hundred more questions, but when he sees Maria giving him the same look Pepper is giving Tony, along with all those important suits waiting, he gives in. “Yeah... right. The heavy hitters.”

The "heavy hitters" weren’t just important people from important organizations. 

There was the Secretary of Defense, a bunch of senators, generals and colonels from the U.S. Army, the National Security Advisor—whatever the title is—Wakandan generals, CIA directors and their agents, and a whole lot of U.S. soldiers.

Steve was impressed, not by their presence, but because he had completely forgotten this event was on the agenda. And the reason for that? You.

Yeah the whole speeches, panels, interactions were just as you said, about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ blah blah blah, Steve wasn’t even listening. Who gives a damn.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

He was focused on you, and his mind was a mess.

So you can see through solid objects, huh? Does that work on people too? Do you see him as a walking skeleton? Is your power what makes you so smart, or were you always brilliant and Hydra just added the ability? Are you free tonight? What did you mean when you asked if he “considered taking this thing further”? Further to where? To like a date, or further as…forever?  Is that a love bite on your neck? Did he do that? God, you look stunning with your hair like that...

“If your gaze were a lightsaber, that poor girl would be ashes by now,” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to Steve. “Would you stop? It’s really weird.”

Steve chuckled, trying to put on a serious face, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced at the speaker on stage, doing his best to focus.

It was a struggle, though. From what he knew about you, you came across as socially naive, unworldly even, with a deep trust in others. He was tempted but didn’t want to do anything that might feel like he was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

But…he’s doing it again, staring at you from afar, you look so adorable, damn it. Your hair is still a little messy, standing in the crowd and biting your thumbnail like a bored student waiting for the bell to ring.

You caught his stare, your eyes flicking up, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at you. He mouthed a ‘I miss you’, and your heart raced so fast you dropped your phone. Someone passing by picked it up for you, and you probably mumbled something like “'ank you” cheeks blazing so red you couldn’t even make eye contact or finish the sentence.

Steve forced himself to look away, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. His expression must have been strange because even the speaker started to turn red. 

Natasha nudged him with an elbow, and they both smiled at the poor guy, who was now panicking under the combined stares of Captain America and Black Widow.

“Hey…” Steve overheard a voice behind him.

“Do you know who that girl is?” The guy who picked your phone up—some military man—was talking to his teammate, he was several rows behind and talking low but Steve could hear it anyway.

“Who? Where?” his companion asked.

“That one, I just picked up her phone. There…in the second row.”

“Oh! That one? That’s…” The team mate teased: “…someone completely out of your league.”

“Shut up.” The guy chuckled: “I’m gonna give it a try anyway. I’ll ask for her number. Damn that’s the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”

Ok. Steve clenched his jaw. Fuck chivalry. He was done worrying about your social skills. Maybe it was time to take your advice and take things further. Or he could have Jarvis or Friday change your number...

“I bet you don’t get it.” A third voice joined the conversation. "Hoskins is right, Walker. She’s out of your league."

Did he just said, Walker? Steve’s eyes widened as his fists tightened.

“Yeah John, first round you don’t get it.”

“Well…” John laughs, “Guess you’ll be buying two rounds for me and my date tonight.”

In your fucking dreams, Walker. Stay the fuck away from my girl. Steve pulled out his phone. Not even thinking about how you’d gone from "who is she?" and "what are her powers?" to "my girl."

A message from an unknown sender just popped up on your screen.

"What are you doing tonight?"

You frowned. Who is this?

You usually don't give your number to others. Mainly because you don't actually know your number (you don't have enough social events to bother remembering it). Plus, it’s in the public records for investigation departments, in case someone from work needs it. Cause who else would need it?

You glanced around. A few colleagues were watching you, but none gave any obvious signs of being the sender. 

Just in case, you replied: "Testing in the lab." The task Tony had given you earlier sounded promising, and you’re eager to give it a try.

"Can I join you?" The reply comes almost instantly. Must be Dr. Lin then—it’s his discovery, after all. Makes sense.

"Sure." you reply.

"Anything you’d prefer for dinner?"

Oh. No, wait. Now you're uncertain. When was the last time Dr. Lin had anything but organic food? The guy counts calories in every meal since you’ve known him.

"Who is this?"

Steve let out a loud laugh, and everyone stared at him, especially the speaker on stage, who was in the middle of a serious and tragic speech and was going through the emotional part.

"Stop it." Natasha shook her head, warning him in a whisper while smiling at the speaker. "Just stop it."

Tony rolled his eyes in the front row. Ugh, lovefools.

But Steve couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t stop messaging you.

"I’m your date, if you’ll have me."

"Oh. Mike? Sorry, I didn’t have your number."

His laugh stopped.

"Just kidding, Cap. I’ll have whatever you want ;)"

Oh damn, you got him. His heart leaped back into place. Steve looked up and spotted you, blushing as you put your phone away. He felt like giving a big smile but held back—for the poor speaker’s sake, who had already been tortured enough.

"A date it is." he replied. He considered adding an emoji, but nope—he didn’t know how that worked.

So, "whatever you want", huh? What should he bring? Did you mention anything about your preferences the night you met? Italian? Chinese? Thai? Japanese?

"Is there..." he asked Nat, his voice low enough only she could hear, "any good takeout within five minutes?"

Natasha was about to answer when her phone buzzed with a message from Tony: "Tell Rogers to knock it off." 

So they both put on their best serious faces and listened to the rest of the speech. Luckily, it was short, and Steve applauded harder than he should, just to make up for his weird behavior throughout.

"If you go straight to her." Once the whole thing was over, Natasha said softly in a voice only he could hear, "it’ll be too obvious. And Tony and Rhodey will shoot lasers from their eyes to your ass, stay put, this is important."

"I know." Steve smiled, shook hands with some senator, and stuck around for a bit of small talk, though his attention was elsewhere. 

He spotted John Walker approaching you. So moving without drawing attention, Steve shifted the group he was with closer to you.

He hated to admit it, but John Walker? The guy was fine. In that military uniform, with all those badges, he could probably charm any girl—if this wasn’t a hall full of superheroes. Steve listened carefully through the room’s noise, trying to catch your conversation.

Of course, you had no idea.

You didn’t know someone was nearby, standing and staring at you. You were too busy smiling at your phone like an idiot.

"Excuse me. What?" you asked when this guy repeated himself. The hall was full of chatter, so you had to get closer to hear.

"John Walker, ma’am." He flashed a bright smile, but you weren’t looking.

"Oh." You recognized him as the guy who picked up your phone earlier, and a blush crept onto your face as you recalled how clumsy you’d been, dropping your phone because Steve had smiled at you. 

"Oh... yeah, um, I’m Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster. Thank you for that... Captain?" You weren’t sure about his rank, guessing based on the uniform.

"Nice to meet you, Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster." He widened his smile, mistaking your blush for something else, and shook your hand. "Well... since I rescued your phone, any chance I could get your number?"

"Aw!" Steve’s hand suddenly clamped down on some poor guy’s during a handshake. "Quite a grip you’ve got there, Cap."

 "I beg your pardon." Steve forced a smile through clenched teeth, still listening to your conversation.

"Oh..." Now you were blushing for real. "Um..." You were trying to figure out how to get out of this awkward situation. 

Not only because you didn’t know your number, but also because you didn’t want to give it to Captain Walker. 

You thought fast and came up with the first lame excuse that popped into your head.

"I can’t. " 

You look at him with your most innocent and serious face. You sound so sincere and genuine.

"It’s confidential."

Steve let out a burst of laughter. That’s my girl. The senator in front of him—yes, the same one he had been teasing through the whole event—went pale. He was telling another moving story about his experience during the Blip when Captain America giggled. 

Tony threw an arm around Steve’s neck and mumbled in a warning tone: "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"

"I’m so sorry." Steve hurried after the poor man, trying to keep a straight face. "Come on, Senator Kingsley...I’m sorry…" 

As soon as John Walker’s attention shifted to Steve, you took a step back and mumbled something like, "Um... Nice to meet you, Captain Walker. Gotta go."

"Yeah, what? Yeah, sure..." Walker turned around, but you were long gone before he could come up with a smart reply.

Of course, you had to go—you had a date.

Two hours later, the idea was still circling in your mind. But...

"What am I wearing?" you suddenly blurted out.

"...What?" Dr. Lin looked at you, confused. "Now? A white coat…" 

He was just in a very inspirational speech about the theory of a quantum anchor to handle subatomic fluctuations when you interrupted with that.

You thought for a second, then decided you didn’t give a shit about the possibility of opening a wormhole that could deviate spatial-temporal coordinates or create a cascading paradox that unravels dimensions as you know them. You cared more about the upcoming date.

It was not just a date, it was the date.

So you took a deep breath, looked at your colleague seriously, and said, "I have a date, Dr. Lin. And I don’t know what to wear because I’ve never had one."

"Oh..." Dr. Lin looked you over. "That’s not a surprise, Dr. Lancaster." He whispered something like, "We should have known... you live and breathe only in this lab... just like your plants."

"I don’t have... anything." You spread your hands. "He’s coming to my lab in a few hours... should I...?" burn all my clothes and buy new ones? No way you’d make it in time.

"Well." He gave you a ‘what are you gonna do’ face and circled you. "Mm... not much we can do, actually. Here, lift your hair. No, not all of it, leave some strands. Yes..." He took off your glasses. "Do you have lipstick? No?! You don’t? Girl... GOD. Um... okay."

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a chapstick. "Here. This is cherry. I don’t know... um... oh, and this!" He handed you a bottle. "Put this on."

"What is this?" You opened the tube, sniffing it. "Perfume?"

"Better. This, Dr. Lancaster, is the Felix Felicis of perfumes."

"Like... in Harry Potter?"

"Theoretically, this is a chemical liquid compound that exhibits adaptive olfactory reactivity, dynamically modulating its molecular structure upon detecting neurochemical feedback from the subject's sensory receptors, thereby... transforming into the individual's most psychologically favored aromatic profile." He grinned like a proud scientist.

"So, it’s a magic liquid that becomes your favorite scent when you smell it?"

"Not favorite, Dr. Lancaster. The most arousing smell." Dr. Lin’s eyes lit up as he introduced his invention. 

"Girl, put this on, I guarantee, he’ll be all over you. And call me Robert, I beg you.”

"Is that..." You raised an eyebrow. "Is that even legal?" And this was Steve you were talking about—the guy had senses times four.

"Oh come on, just use one drop." Dr. Lin dabbed a bit on his finger and tapped it on your neck. "There. I don’t think he’ll even notice, but just in case..."

"Oh. Okay." You still didn’t know what to expect.

"Look, I’ll leave you to it then." Dr. Lin—no, Robert—gathered his things. "Enough testing for today. And you’re gonna tell me all about it on Monday, okay? Oh, and Dr. Lancaster..." 

He glanced around your lab. "This is perfect. Private, secluded... just make sure to put away all the explosive liquids you have around... ok? See ya!"

“Oh.” You glance around too. Yeah, that’s a great point, you nod as you wave goodbye to a very excited Dr. Lin, still not having a clue what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what you do best: you work.

You do a little bit of cleaning, organizing; the place looks amazing, at least from your point of view, and since you had time, you start another round of testing.

You don’t even notice when Steve walks in, with the sunset sky behind him and the first stars rising in the north. He’s carrying a basket, and his breath is taken away by the sight of you standing at your workbench, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, turning the whole room into a glowing, serene golden rose.

He stands there for a while, just watching, taking it all in.

“Cap, are you coming in anytime soon?” you ask, adjusting the metal pieces of the robotic arm. 

“I’m really hungry and tired of pretending I’m so cool with robotics here.”

Steve laughs and sets the basket on the table before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your hair. “Hey.”

You inhale deeply, finally letting go of the breath you’d been holding since you heard his footsteps. 

“Well, that’s not gonna do.” You smile and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Yeah, now I’m recharged.”

Steve grins, holding you tighter as he kisses you back. “Yeah, me too.” He deepens the kiss. “God… you smell so good.”

Oh wow. You open your eyes as you return the kiss. Did Dr. Lin’s magic elixir really work this fast?

Well, then there’s a good chance this could go further, right?

Of course he’s taking it further.

Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him. 

Maybe it’s because he’s been thinking about you all day. Maybe it’s because he was so mad and determined to be with you after that punk tried to make a move on you. Or maybe it’s just you—you have this unknown thing that drives him wild.

It's the way you move, the way you smile or talk or breathe or just… exist, that makes him unreasonably and madly… in love.

You finish dinner (a unanimously voted menu by the whole team—who knew the Avengers were so bored?), and are just starting on the cold white wine when he tries to wipe some ice cream from your lips. The next thing you know… you’re all over the couch.

Well, you started it, you think as he hovers over you. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten his thumb when he was caressing your lips, or maybe you shouldn’t have breathed so heavily while he was kissing you and roaming over your body. Maybe you shouldn’t have whispered his name like that… but oh god, who cares? It feels so good.

“We should…” Stop. Steve tries to pull out his rational side, but his hands are far too busy running down your side, lingering on your hip.

“Go to bed?” You’re panting and shivering, your hands on his neck and his back, trying to pull him closer. “There’s, um… a bedroom right at the back, and… it has a beautiful garden view.” As if that mattered now at all.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head on your neck. Then, after a pause, he lifts himself slightly, creating some space between you two.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… there’s no coming back from that. Are you…” He gasps, caressing your face. “And if we don’t do anything, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“And…” You sit up straight, looking at him, intrigued. “How… how do you feel about me?”

“It feels...” He thinks for a moment, intertwining your fingers with his and giving you a soft smile.

“Correct. Right. Complete.” He kisses your fingers, then looks up at you. “You make me feel complete.” He paused: “And you?”

You stay there for a moment in silence, glancing at him.

“Like…”

You try to describe it with nice words but you can’t.

“It's like my heart is so full, I can’t take it anymore…” You inhale as if you're feeling it right now and smile. “Like all the stars have fallen to one place and are shining too brightly.”

There's a moment of quiet before Steve speaks, his voice soft, like making a wish.

“I wish I’d found you sooner. I wish… I could’ve spent all the years I’ve been here with you.”

“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile, gentle and devoted. 

“Everything is perfect.”

He smiles and kisses you back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch filled with tenderness and love. But as the kiss deepens, Steve feels like he's burning. 

Everything about you is a vortex of sensations: his mind fuzzy, your warm body in his arms, your hair smelling of white roses, your sweet breath, your lips, and your tongue. He pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to rest on your hip, rougher than before, his lips moving more insistently. He doesn’t want to stop; he needs to feel more of you.

“If you’re not stopping…” He hesitates. “I don’t think I can …”

“I don’t want you to.” You sit on his lap, holding him close, fingers in his hair, whispering.

Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his voice a little rougher than usual, his gaze locked onto you like a lifeline.

“Are you sure?”

“…Steve…” Your voice is almost a plea. “Please don’t make me beg…”

And that does it.

Steve lets your request override any other thought. His tongue explores your mouth, hungrily claiming it as his own. One hand grips your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His mind is a mess, tangled with desire and excitement, everything around him melting away except for you. He leans into you more, guiding you back until your hips hit the nearest wall, pinning you there.

“Where's the bed?” he whispers in your ear. You stretch out your arm and point in the right direction.

“Hold on tight.” He smiles as he carries you to the room at the back and can’t help but awe when he arrives.

“Oh, so it was true. It has an amazing view.” He admires the floor-to-ceiling window with the garden in full bloom outside, bathed in a violet and blue sunset.

You laugh between the pillows. “Would you mind… saving that for later?”

Steve chuckles as he comes back to your lips and your arms: “I’m sorry…” his fingers follows the line of your body, pressing one in your waist and the other interlocking with yours: “I promise nothing will distract me from you now…” 

He was feeling the surge of his powers –  everything was enhanced: the scent of you on the bed sheets, the shivers running through your skin at his touch, the way your hair brushed against him, and the intoxicating sound of your voice…his body was reacting accordingly, and it was impossible to hold back. 

Especially when you kicked off your clothes and he could feel the whole of you: your skin silky and warm, the jasmine scent from your bath lingering. He was utterly lost in lust.

He feels his heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands guiding you with slow, deliberate movements, trying to hold onto some control despite the intensity of his desire. 

He interlocks your hand with his, while the other holds your face. He can’t look away from your gaze as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, sparking a wildfire of need within him. He whispers your name against your lips, his voice thick with hunger and longing.

“I don’t think I can’t hold back any longer…”

You gasp, drowning in a whirlwind of emotion: “Please don’t hold back…anything...” And you feel him to complete you, his fingers entwined with yours, murmuring something before sealing you with a kiss.

The moment he was in you was overwhelming, but you wouldn't recall the pain.

You were filled with sensations, having his lips in your ears, the fierce pressure of his fingers interlaced with yours, his body as close to yours as it could possibly be. Every centimeter of your being was united with his, melting into his warmth.

You felt him everywhere. In the intense gaze he held as he moved in a pace to match your pleasure, in his low moans and groans,in the droplets of sweat falling from his body onto yours, in his shivers and trembling, in the way he pressed his hand in your waist and marked every movement as he was lost in lust.

“God…” 

Oh no, Steve was not lost, he was drunk in a haze of pleasure and need. 

He had this urge of possession, hunger of dominance, mixed with the overwhelming and insatiable need of you.

He looks at you. Your watery eyes glistening with pleasure and desire, your moaning lips, red and swollen, naked body covered by a thin sweat and marks he left in your collarbone, in your shoulders and breasts, you dig your fingers into his skin, the sounds of your moans filling his ears and driving him even wilder.

“Please don’t stop…” 

God that begging tone of yours, he just can’t take it, he needs more.

“Steve…” You whispered again, your hands cupping his face. His breath mingled with yours as he leaned in closer: “please…don't stop…”

Steve moaned, his brain short-circuiting momentarily at your words, the sound of your voice begging it drives him wild with need and desire. 

He tightens his grip on your hips, his movements becoming rougher and rougher as you beg for him and you are lost in his fastened paces, and he knows you are close, the moans that’re leaving your lips driving him mad.

“Babe you are driving me insane…” He can't hold back his low growl as you whisper in his ear, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he pushes you harder, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he gives you what you ask for, pulling you closer and closer, and he can’t help to moan as he looks at you reaching your climax: “Yeah baby that’s it…I got you…” 

You gave in as he kissed you and the bed knocked so hard against the wall, Steve’s senses are coming to an edge too as you finally reach the limit, your moan is the most perfect and most pleasing thing he’s ever heard. 

He murmurs your name on the verge of losing control, so you press your whole body to him as helping to be there, Steve’s mind suddenly goes blank as the pleasure takes over, every sense, every nerve ending consumed by ecstasy. 

He cums long and warm inside you, and that alone makes you feel you could come all over again. 

His words strangled groans of pleasure. He looks down at you, completely at your mercy, eyes hazy, filled with pure, unadulterated ecstasy as he tries to speak, but you seal his words with a deep kiss. 

“That was…” His breaths came in hard and fast: “That felt…”

“Complete.” You finish the sentence for him.

Complete. He used the right word. That’s how you felt. 

He laughs and falls on top of you, cupping your face and kissing your chin, removing stands of sweaty hair from your face. 

His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, his body still quivering from the intensity of the orgasm. 

" I... I've never experienced anything like that…You were incredible…You're incredible…"

You were panting too. But you were also reacting over his kisses.

Oh damn, Dr. Lin’s felix felicis worked just fine.

“So…um…” You couldn’t catch your breath: “You do have…Saturdays off, right? Does…the Avengers get that? Weekends?”

“What?” He was already laughing when you asked, but still nodded: “Yeah I have time…”

“And…how fast does your serum work? Do you need to like…some hours to recover?” 

“What?” Steve can't help but let out a laugh at your question. You marvelous, adorable, perfect girl. You are the woman of his dreams. 

He leans in to kiss you. Yes, complete. That’s definitely the word. He had never felt this way with anyone before, but when he was with you, everything seemed to align, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both to this moment, to this connection. He felt like a lost star in the universe finally finding its way home.

“Hours?” He kisses your neck and starts to go down: “babe…you might be a genius...but I really need to show you how this serum works for me…hours? Please don’t underestimate me…” 

His hands starting to caress your body, cupping your breasts and leaving a trace of kisses, feeling you reacting at the same time that he was getting hard again, still inside of you. 

You let out a soft, deep moan, your body responding instantly to his touch, your eyes lost in lust again.

“Steve…” 

He loves that begging moan, he was so ready to hear it again. And he was going to make you to do that all night long. 

“The night is young.” He positions his hands in your waist, holding you tight, as he presses himself again inside of you, harder than the first time, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks: “And I’m glad for it.”

“Dr. Lin? um…Robert?” You knocked your colleague’s lab door on Monday, with a gift basket and a bottle of wine.

“Heeeeyyyy…” He was so happy to see you, Dr. Lin just turned around from his chair with a curious smirk: “Soooo? How was it? The mysterious date? I can tell you are satisfied…” he was practically singing. 

“Well…” You blushed slightly. 

The “date” has lasted the entire weekend. 

For the first time in your life, you were thankful for the body Hydra had given you, enough to endure and enjoy a weekend of endless lovemaking. 

You think you lost count of your orgasms by Saturday afternoon. But then of course, Sunday was also off, even for the Avengers. So you carried on. 

“Ahem…!” You cleared your throat, offering him the basket with the wine. “I’m just saying the Felix Felicis worked... as expected, even with just a drop.”

“Oh.” Robert's expression shifted. “Oh my gawd, I’m going to hell for this... Honey?” 

He patted your hand as he took off his glasses. “There’s no such thing as Felix Felicis…”

“What?”

“Yeah I lied…It was just a joke.” He made a ‘Sorry, not sorry’ face: “It was just perfumed alcohol.”

“Oh.” You were surprised. “Um... still... that’s just...” 

Wonderful. You couldn’t help but smile, handing him the basket anyway. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Lin— I mean, Robert. Really, thank you.”

“Ohhh…you’re blushing,” Dr. Lin winks at you. “You look like someone who just discovered the meaning of life.” By going out of that lab and finally having human contact, and not dying there like a potus, he thinks to himself.

You grinned. “Maybe I did.”

“Well, whatever it was, keep that glow. It’s contagious,” he said with a wink before turning around and continuing his work.

“I’ll try my best.” You nodded, smiled at him, and headed back to your lab. You were in the hallway when you received a message from Steve.

“Miss you already,” with a heart emoji.

You sighed and smiled. 

Maybe it wasn’t Felix Felicis, but magic did exist—and it was real every time Steve looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.

End but TBD

Yay! That's a wrap on Chapter 3! ❤️ Thank you for reading so far. I apologize if my English isn't perfect; it's not my first (or even second) language.

I hope I got through the intensity and love that was intended. (At least at their first time, should be more about making love than fucking? If that makes sense...?)

Anyway, don't know where to place the timeline, but definitely is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive, aaaand the fact that John is here with Steve in the same place, makes it more interesting :3 (I just love writing jelous Steve)

Hope you liked it! Every feedback is highly appreciated <3

Love.,

Moon.

P.S: Chapter names are all related to dream states ;) I'm posting something every friday :) So see you next friday!!!

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [1 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

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

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

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

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

“Run.” 

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

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

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

Run and die. Run or die—

No one got to live.  

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

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

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

And you will find water.

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

Green. 

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

“Fan out!”

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

And then you see it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

to be continued

next

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

【Synopsis】 : You find out your Super Soldier Boyfriend has a kink that also happens to be right up your ally.

『Word count』 : 300 

Pairing : Beefy!Steve x Reader

[Warnings] : Spitting, bodily fluids, pet names.

Masterlist | Navigation

How could you possibly even begin to think of such a dirty act? You had simply made a joke upon the matter, never considering the sin-filled fantasy would come to pass. You never even batted an eye that your boyfriend could have such a fetish, yet here you are. Waiting ever so patiently for him to do what he promised. He asked you to sit between his legs while he sat on the couch. You rested your head on his large thigh, feeling his muscles tense when he began to lean forward. His fingers grip your chin, pulling you ever so slowly and softly. His eyes were intensely glued to yours, a sly smirk growing on his sunkissed and tainted skin.

"You ready, Honey?" His lips were so close to yours, yet so far. You were becoming desperate, and the need for his touch grew stronger. You nodded like a ridiculous kid wanting their favourite food.

"Open wide. Tongue out." his voice was deep, husky, barely above a whisper. You followed his orders swiftly, your fingers digging tightly onto his clothed thighs. "What a good baby." His hand that held your chin caressed your cheek sweetly, even though you know there is a sadistic tension behind it.

"My beautiful..." His hand gripped your chin sharply, tugging you upwards. "...Beautiful, baby." And just like that, he spits directly into your mouth, sending a cold shiver down your spine. Like electricity crackled through your veins. You've never felt so turned on, so exhilarated. You needed more. Pulling yourself up, your nails dug into his skin while you chased his lips. He couldn't help but chuckle with sin crawling from his aura. He had you wrapped around his fingers, putty in his hand. And he was going to abuse his power until his last breath.

[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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[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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[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

[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.”

[dancerinthestorm]

Fic Recs: "Didn't see that one coming" edition...

I've been wanting to start collecting my all time favorite stories in ages but never knew where to start, there are just too many talented souls out there. A lazy day of re-reading favorites makes me want to finally give it a try though.

Featuring today: stories that defy my usual hunting patterns but still became all time favourites against all odds. Stories leaving me utterly gobsmacked thinking "That was so, soo awsome... but how on earth did I end up in this fandom / character / trope tag of all places?".

@messy-insomniac-bookgirl Let's be honest: this writer is the spirit animal of this specific selection. Never heard of the fandom? Dislike the protagonist with a passion? Doesn't matter: she writes it, I devour and love it. The reason? Dense and hugely rewarding story-telling, perfect pacing, side characters you want to adopt on the spot, delicious slow burns with sooo much yearning. And, most importantly, the awesome female OCs. I am in love with each and every one of them, regardless who they share a screen with. It's almost impossible to select just one story for this list but let's go for "Keep Calm and Buckle Up" (AO3) for suddenly making me feel things when Steve Rogers entered the stage in "Infinity War". Steve Rogers x OFC, James "Bucky" Barnes x OFC, Steve x Bucky x OFC. Action, slow burn, emotional roller coaster rides. Rated E.

@batsingotham "Written in the stars" (AO3) I don't do Soul Mate AUs. I don't do Robert Pattinson characters. For me the best things about "The Batman" were Andy Serkis' Alfred and 3 hours of Niravana in a loop. But the undisputed goddess queen of slow burn domestic fluff overruled all of that. Bruce Wayne/Reader. Soulmate AU. Dorks in love. Bruce needs a hug and Alfred has the patience of a saint. Rated M.

"Sweet Conversations" by @glassgulls Lord of the Rings has been living in my head rent free ever since I was a teenager but I simply don't do Elves. Period. Yes, Glorfindel is very cool and Lee Pace's Thranduil is an absolute vision (the costumes, the voice and the make up, mind you, don't get me started on any other aspect of the Hobbit movies though...) but otherwise? Thanks but no thanks. Nevertheless: the award for best fictional kiss I’ve come across in ages goes to this gem. Amazing scene setting and character work for something so short. Leaves you weak-kneed and high as a kite on serotonin for the rest of the day. Haldir/Reader. One-shot. Rated M.

„Ownership of Mine“ by @amywritesthings . Okay, lets be honest, peeps: Prison settings for a romance story? Seriously? Who in their right mind would be able to think about romance and seduction when all of your freedom is taken away, you are crammed into a small and dark space with people of questionable character and put under constant surveilance. Well… apparently I can… with this story. Even if that tag is a big red NO GO sign for me otherwise. Amazingly dense story telling and atmosphere building in just 3 short chapters. Kino Loy/Reader. Rated E.

„Directions“ by @zinzinina . Probably a sure sign that I am getting too old for all of this but tags about age gaps, first love or first times usually make me run for the hills. Add a character like Poe Dameron (I mean: come on! Howww…?!) to the mix and there is not enough willing suspension of disbelieve in the world to get me immersed in the plot. Or so I thought. Unwisely. Until this beauty came along. Poe Dameron/Reader. Rated E.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie - Reading List Week 149 & 150

Welcome to Week 149 & 150

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal boosting them. Author is listed next to title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

My Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ & header by me

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Mine Part 2 - (Steve x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie​

Protecting What's His - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog​

Secrets chp 14 - (Steve x OFC, Brock x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan​

Bucky oneshot - @angrythingstarlight

Starving, Darling - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Rule Number One - (Bucky x Reader) - @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky One shot - @angrythingstarlight

A fallen crush - (Steve x Reader) - @biteofcherry

Not my world part Il - (Steve x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan

Two kings (10) - FIN of Arc 1 - @holylulusworld

A Vampire's Kiss - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

All Access - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Slow - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Dog Tags - (Stucky x Reader) - @sidepartskinnyjeans

Our psychos break the new toy in - (Mr Freezy x Reader) - @the-iceni-bitch

You Get What You Pay For - (God the Bounty Hunter x Reader) - @navybrat817

Wild Kitten (10) - @holylulusworld

A hard world - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Secrets Chapter 15 - (Steve x ofc, Brock x ofc) - @nekoannie-chan

Delectable Discipline - (Steve x Reader x Lloyd) - @labella420

Terms and Conditions - Keep the Change - (Andy x Reader) - @navybrat817

3 Billion Divorce - My Dear Wife - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Collared part 15 - (Dean x Reader) - @spnexploration

I wish it wasn't true - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Visible Mark - Part 3 - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @navybrat817

Digital Bath - Part 2 - (Bucky x Reader) - @syntheticavenger

A Kiss to Remember - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Fresh Fallen Snow, Part 2 - (Curtis x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Signals - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

His Inheritance - Part 19 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

[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.” 

Tags:  @janeyboo  @mylittlefandomfanfictions  @palaiasaurus64  @averyrogers83  @guera31  @soulmates8  @coffeebooksandfandom  @sweater-daddiesdumbdork  @pegasusdragontiger  @mizzzpink  @onetwo3000  @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars  @sleepylunarwolf  @wheresmyplums  @smoothdogsgirl  @marvelouslyme96  @esoltis280  @jtargaryen18  @k-evans-writes  @rainbowkisses31  @buchanansebba  @katiew1973  @patzammit  @time-for-a-lullaby 

[innorogers]

Insomnia

Steve Rogers x OFC (You)

Summary: You couldn't sleep, and Steve neither. So you want to help him with a bedtime story. And he wants you forever.

To say you couldn't sleep is an understatement. You quite literally couldn't even close your eyes for the past few nights. 

It's not something you can control; your brain just works like this: challenges at work are the adrenaline that rushes to your mind, and it just won't calm down. 

So, a 13-hour shift wasn't enough to tire you out; insomnia hit so hard that you decided to head down to the training room to try to drain all your energy.

As you made your way down the stairs, you could hear the distant thudding of fists against a punching bag. 

Upon pushing the door slowly open, you weren't surprised to be met with Steve...without punching gloves.

God, you felt for those knuckles. How can this man be so careless with himself? Not that you have any say in that, of course.

You nodded as he turned around, surprised to see anyone at this hour.

"Cap," you said respectfully, with a tiny voice, looking at the floor as if there's anything wonderful there.

Steve walked over, sweat glistening across his forehead and cheeks, his shirt clinging to his now drenched chest.

"Oh, hi..." He smiled upon seeing you, grabbing a towel from the bench and wiping the sweat from his face. "It's late, what are you doing here?"

"Um..." You didn't think he would talk with this familiarity, but you smiled back. "I couldn't sleep, um...so I just thought I'd try to train myself."

"Ah...insomnia, right?" Steve chuckled slightly, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a few swigs. "I used to suffer with it quite badly too. I used to go to bed and just...stare at the ceiling all night."

"Oh my god." Your reaction was real. "That sounds...terrible."

Steve nodded and slumped down on the bench, leaning back as he took another sip of water. "It is...the only way I got around it was to exhaust myself before bed, but I'm sure you don't need me telling you that."

That statement struck you a little bit. You couldn't help but feel so bad for him. "Cap...that sounds draining. Have you been like that, since...always?"

Steve nodded once again, his hand running through his hair and pushing it back. "Unfortunately, been like it as long as I can remember. I only recently started trying to control it - the army didn't exactly care much about my sleeping patterns..."

"What?" Now you were horrified. "That's so awful. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's alright," Steve reassured with a small smile, his eyes locking with yours for a moment. "I'm used to it. Plus, the army needed me to be the best I could, even if that meant I had to run on 0 hours of sleep."

"Wait, what? Steve, I meant, Cap...that's, that's not right!"

Steve chuckled softly and looked down at his feet for a moment. "Yeah...yeah, I guess it isn't." He was quiet for a moment before looking back up at you with a small smile. "I appreciate the concern, though."

You felt your cheeks were starting to burn, so you looked down again. "Have you tried any pills?" you asked as you watched yourself reflected in the mirror. Oh, you looked so stupid with your gym gear. What were you even doing with a towel and a bottle of water?

Steve nodded, scratching his temple slightly with his thumb. "I've tried just about everything: pills, sleep therapy, meditation, music, literally everything you could think of to help me sleep. I can maybe get 3 hours of sleep max, but that's if I'm absolutely exhausted."

You looked at him. You couldn't believe it. This man, you saw him in and out every day from this campus. He went out so energized, and came back full of scars and wounds, and he couldn't even get some quality rest.

You couldn't help but approach him, your voice as soft as you ever knew it: "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He paused for a moment, looking at you with a quizzical look for a few seconds before his lips quickened up into a small smile. "I mean...there is one thing I could think of..."

"What?"

"Sit next to me." Steve patted a space on the bench beside him, a small smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "Keep me company."

"Sure." 

You didn't even doubt it, and you sat next to him, thinking you were willing to talk for 60 hours in a row if that's what it took to get this man to sleep. 

"Wanna talk about it?"

Steve leaned back against the bench, resting his hands on the metal beside him as he tilted his head slightly to look at you. "There's not much to talk about. My mind just...won't switch off."

"Hmm...maybe, a bedtime story?"

Steve laughed incredulously at the idea, the noise coming from his chest filling the silent room. He found it extremely amazing that he hadn't heard his own laughter like that in a long time.

"A bedtime story? Don't you think I'm a little old for that? I think last time I heard one was… 96 years ago?"

"Well..." God, his laugh was just...magical. You smiled back as your heart melted. "You never know, right?"

Steve chuckled softly once more, his head tilting back as he looked up at the ceiling, a smirk on his face. "You know what...sure. I'll take a bedtime story."

"Alright..." You started laughing too, your frenzied brain starting to do its thing: spinning really fast. 

"Here I go..."

Steve shifted so he was facing you more, leaning forwards with one elbow on his knee. His face was expectant albeit a little amused, and he wondered what kind of a bedtime story you were going to tell.

"Once upon a time, there was a super soldier..."

Steve raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping his lips at the start of the story. "Alright...a super soldier...continue."

"...Who couldn't sleep, so he ran every night up to the hill and asked a fairy living there: 'Hey, little princess, why can't I sleep?' And the fairy replied: 'Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Is it because the stars are too shiny?' And the soldier looked up at the sky full of stars and shrugged his shoulders: 'Probably...?'"

Steve’s lips formed a soft curve at the beginning of the story, his smile growing with each sentence. 

"How do you know this story?"

You winked at him. "I'll tell you that at the end. “

“So...the fairy thinks about it for a second and says: Well, maybe I can help you. And she goes up, up, up in the sky and starts to collect all the stars one by one, but there are so many of them! And she's so anxious because she wants the super soldier to get some sleep before the army calls...you know, those dumbasses..."

Steve's head tilted back once again as he laughed out loud, shaking his head at the ludicrous but somehow lovely story that was being told, and for some unknown reason, it was making him feel slightly relaxed. 

"That's a lot of stars, huh?"

"Yup..." you heard your voice, and you noticed your joy in making him happy or bringing a little peace to his mind. 

You continued, "So the fairy gets a brilliant idea: 'I'll call every kid on the planet and ask them to wish upon a shiny star, so the stars will fall, and every kid is happy with their wishes granted, and the sky is darkened, and the super soldier gets some sleep.'"

"Every kid? How would they all know to wish upon a star?"

"Because..." You looked at him as if saying, 'duh dude...'

"That's what kids do, didn't you wish upon a star? Ever?"

"Well…I'm not sure I ever did...I…really don’t remember..." He sighed nostalgically.

You looked at him. You wanted to say, "Me neither," but instead, you just responded in a comforting voice, "Well...If you don't sleep tomorrow either, I promise you, I'll go and fetch a star for you."

Steve smiled back at you, your words sending a strange yet warm feeling through his heart. 

"You'd go as far as stealing a star for me?"

And your damn brain worked so fast you didn't even think about what you were saying.

"I'll get every star in the universe for you if you'd ask."

Steve's breath hitched in his throat, there was a strange feeling through his stomach and slightly increasing his heart rate. 

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at you before he spoke again, his own words surprising him. 

"Do you promise...you'd get them all?"

Your heartbeat just stopped at that glance of his, but you nodded. 

"Yes, I do."

Steve took another moment to compose himself, a wonderstruck hitted him as he looked you in the eyes. He was searching your face for any hint of sarcasm or lies, but all he could see was what looked like true honesty. 

"You make a powerful promise...you sure you can keep it?"

You laughed. "What, you don't believe me?"

At the sound of your laugh, Steve's breath hitched in his throat, the noise stirring something deep within him which he attempted to push down. But it was so strong.

"It's not that...I just don't want you to promise something you can't keep."

"I'll keep it." He probably didn't know it, but you were actually vowing, "Every word of it." You replied in a soft voice.

There it was again, that tickle through Steve's stomach. Butterflies everywhere. They came from the air that he breathed, through his chest, to his entire body. 

He smiled at you, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, Steve actually believed someone when they promised him something. 

"I'm holding you to that, you know."

You got lost in his eyes. God, there’s an entire ocean in his eyes. You held your tongue before you said that, so you cleared your throat. "I haven't finished my story."

Steve shifted once again to face you, a smile still present on his face. "Continue...tell me the rest of the story."

"So the fairy gets all the stars of the sky to fulfill the kids' wishes, and the sky finally darkens. She goes back to the soldier, but before arriving, she went to heaven and borrowed some feathers from the wings of the most beautiful angel. 'It's for a kid that can't sleep,' she explains to the angel, and with the feathers and her fairy magic, she makes the most comfortable pillow in the world. And only then, she goes back to the soldier and gives him the pillow: 'There, you will have a good sleep, honey.' And so, the soldier finally gets some rest. The end."

Steve listened to the rest of the story intently, that strange feeling in his stomach returning as waves of a tide.

Damn butterflies. Now they even left a trace of golden glitter shiny things.

He wants those butterflies to stop, but he fails, his eyes locking with yours. "You are good...you are a truly excellent storyteller, you know that?"

"I know, right?" You laughed, and also lowered your voice. "But I'll tell you a little secret."

He chuckled as he leaned back against the bench, arms crossed across his chest. As he was trying to hide something, to push back on something. To take distance. 

"A secret? I like the sound of that."

"You're my only and first audience."

Steve cocked an eyebrow, his smirk returning and his arms uncrossing. "You mean this is the first time you've even told someone that story?"

"Or any story."

Steve's eyes widened at your words, the smirk on his face growing even more. 

"You've never told a story before...like, ever?"

"Ever."

Steve chuckled softly at your response, shaking his head slightly. "You mean to tell me that ever since you were a kid, you've never told another person a story? Not even when you were little?"

You were going to say something, but kept quiet and smiled.

Steve was quiet for a moment before looking at you. 

"Most people tell everyone stories...they don't save up a story for years and years and years to tell just one person...just one?"

You blinked at him. "It's only for super soldiers who can't sleep at night, and you are the first one I've met. But...if you happen to know any other super soldier who is also a superhero and also happens to be...you know, Captain America, the greatest avenger of all times...tell him I have a great bedtime story to share with him in case he can't sleep and is training in the tower at this time of the night...otherwise...then yes, you are the only one."

Steve couldn't help but laugh at your response, the sound filling the room once again and that pang through his stomach returning. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he looked at you, a smirk on his face. 

"I'll let you know if I see any super soldiers around."

"Tell him that's a hell of a bedtime story."

Steve chuckled again, his smirk growing wider as he gave you a nod. "You think he'll like it?"

"I don't know, what do you think?" you shrugged your shoulders.

Steve paused, his eyes locking with yours and that feeling in his stomach returning once again. 

He slowly licked across his lips and was quiet for a moment before answering. 

"I think he'll like the story...I think he'll like it a lot..."

You paused for a long moment before you moved your sight out of the window. 

"Well, that would make me very happy, you know?"

Steve smiled back at you, that warm feeling in his stomach slowly spreading through his entire body. There was something about you that he just couldn't quite put his finger on - you made him feel strangely relaxed yet on edge all at once, and he couldn't quite explain it.

"Why?"

"Because..." Your response was honest and sincere. "I don't know, I guess...I guess I just wish all the good things for him."

Steve was silent, his eyes not able to move from your face as he listened intently. It was at this moment that strange pang in his chest became so prominent that it almost knocked the breath out of him. 

Your words were simple, yet they made his heart flutter. He didn't understand why, but he suddenly felt something he hadn't felt in years, a feeling so strong and overpowering yet so gentle.

Steve smiled, his voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper. 

"You...you really care about him...huh?"

You stayed quiet. This was weird, he was asking, yet you felt that those questions came from some kind of reflexive thought, that it was your inner voice asking you. 

So you answered, "I do. A lot."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment, the way you answered so quickly and so honestly made all hesitations and doubts disappear. He is not fighting anymore against it. He found himself looking at you intently, almost as if he were trying to read you. 

His heart rate slowly rose, and those butterflies flew and flew in circles all around within him.. 

He suddenly remembers that he didn't even know your name. You’re such a dumbass, Rogers. Captain America is just an excuse, this is the REAL reason you don’t get dates over 100 years. He tells himself. Could you be more stupid?

"I don’t even know your name." He says in an apologetic tone.

"I'm..." You thought about it and decided to go with your real name, not the one you were known for. 

Steve repeated your name silently to himself, letting it roll off his tongue and hearing the way it sounded as it left his lips. 

He paused for a moment, his face softened with a slight smile as he was saying a breathtaking thought.

"Beautiful name..."

"Thanks." And you blinked at him. "And you are...?"

A subtle laugh flickered on his face at your joke before replying, "Well...you probably know my name already, but...I'm Steve, Steve Rogers."

Your heartbeat skipped a dozen paces, but you played it cool. "I like your name too."

Steve's eyes widened at your words. He hesitated and tilted his head slightly, letting his hair fall into his eyes as he spoke gently. "You're not going to call me 'Cap' or 'Captain America'?"

"Do...do you prefer it?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face: "No...I'd prefer it if you just called me Steve...or Stevie."

"Does...anyone dare to call you Stevie?"

Steve chuckled, "No...no one dares, no...but I think I'd be willing to let you get away with it..."

"Alright then, only because you've asked."

Steve's smile widened, a small laugh escaping his throat in response to your comment. He found himself taken aback by the unexpected emotions stirring within him. Every passing moment made him more drawn towards you, captivated by your presence. 

He couldn't comprehend why he was suddenly feeling so at ease, as if he had known you for a lifetime instead of minutes.

It was like homecoming. Instead of greeting for the first time.

Steve sat up straight again, his eyes not leaving your face. He took another moment, gathering himself and taking a breath before speaking, his voice went as gentle and as low as ever. 

"Can I tell you something?"

His gentle voice gave you goosebumps. 

"Is it a secret?"

Steve chuckled nervously, his hands suddenly becoming sweaty and palms slightly clammy, his heart starting to pound against his chest. He shifted slightly so that he was even closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"Hmm, yeah, I guess you could call it a secret..."

"Will I ever be tortured by enemies trying to know this secret?"

Steve laughed, shaking his head and leaning back once again, but still staying close to you. 

"No...no, you won't get tortured, I promise...it's just, something I just want to share with you and only you..."

"Oh, in that case...I better promise I won't tell...You've made me promise a lot of things tonight, Steve."

Steve smiled but noticed that his hands were becoming even more sweaty as he thought, and that his heart was racing like a teenager. 

"Can I...can I lean a bit closer to you for a second?"

Your body literally was screaming to get closer to him, your brain was sending some kind of alert sign, and your heart was about to jump off your chest. So you were practically a mess. You could only do as you were commanded.

“Sure.”

Steve shuffled even closer to you, his leg slightly touching yours, the feeling of just sitting so close to you creating a small burst of electricity through his body. He suddenly realized that he could feel your body heat and how much he was desperate to get even closer, to feel that warmth directly against him.

He took another deep breath before speaking, his voice still as low and as gentle as a whisper, but the butterflies within him were entering in a frenetic dance.

"I'm gonna lean even closer than this, alright?"

No, it is not alright because your heart was going to burst, but could you ever say no to him? 

"Alright." You nodded, unable to move your eyes from his.

Steve inhaled deeply at your response, his body almost aching to be even closer. He leaned in, his leg now firmly pushed against yours, his own body heat mixing with yours.

He was suddenly nervous, the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue. He took another deep breath, swallowing and licking across his lips before speaking once again in that same, low, gentle voice. 

"Can I come even closer?"

You held your breath, barely nodded. Just move, MOVE!

Steve didn't need you to say anymore. His body was now fully pressed against yours, his breath catching as he took in your scent. God, you smelled like fresh grass after rain. It was driving him wild.

His head was next to yours, his cheek mere millimeters from your skin, like willow leaves resting on the water, creating ripples through your heart.

"Closer?"

Your mind was blurred. "Please."

That one word was all it took. Steve realized how much he wanted you. He shifted, lifting his leg onto the bench so he was almost sitting next to you, his chest and hips now pushed against you. 

He could feel the heat from your body through his own and he got it, what was that wonderstruck homecoming sensation he had: he never wanted to be without it.

"Is this close enough?" he murmured, his voice nothing but a whisper.

You sighed, your heart pounding in your chest. With a determined look, you put your hands on his face, tracing gentle lines with your fingers.

You looked at him, your gaze holding his, as if you could see forever into his soul.

"No. If you don't mind. I'd like to be closer."

Steve's breath caught, his body burning with desire. He shifted closer, pressing against you, his pulse quickening. You felt his heat, his warmth, his desperate need, and you surrendered to it.

His breaths became shallower now, that strange feeling almost overwhelming within him. 

"How about now?"

"Well...you think...you think that the other...the other superhero that suffers from insomnia could do better?" You slowly put your arms around his neck, and pulled him to yourself. 

"Something...like this?"

Steve gasped, feeling a strong wave of electricity shoot straight to his core as he felt your arms around his neck, your body pressed against his all at once, his arms holding onto your waist, keeping you pulled close to him. His eyes flicked down to your lips as you spoke as he answered. 

"Definitely."

And he suddenly realized how good it felt, how right it felt, how much he wanted to taste you, how badly he could feel that strange, overwhelming feeling in his heart begging him to just give in.

He moved just a little more. And it felt as if he were hanging on the edge of a cliff, his breath caught in his throat as he spoke, his voice a shaky whisper.

"Can I..."

And you moved your lips up, right into his.

And all the butterflies just...flew up, and a thousand golden glitter traces exploded everywhere like magic dust rolled in the wind.

Steve felt a sudden fire ignite within him as his body ached for you, every inch desperate to feel your touch. 

He let out a small moan as he tasted you, the ache growing stronger with each passing second. 

His hands roamed sliding down your back and up to your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands as the kiss deepened. Steve wanted more, he needed more...he just couldn't get enough.

But you broke the kiss, you needed air.

So he had to, too. His breaths coming out sharp and ragged, his heart hammering so hard and fast he could practically feel it in his head. He took a moment to compose himself, his hands holding you still against him, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to control his breathing.

“I…I can’t believe I just did that…” he spoke after a while, his voice coming out as a whisper.

OMG. 

You opened your eyes and blurted out: "But...but...did...but did you like it?" 

RIGHT? Please tell me you liked it or you'll have to present your resignation to Stark tomorrow.

“Liked it?”

Steve’s hand suddenly comes up to gently push a strand of hair back behind your ear.

“I loved it.”

You gazed at him, and of course, your impulse worked so much faster than your sense: "So can we do it again?"

Steve’s eyes widened, a small, incredulous laugh escaping his throat.

“You think you have to ask?”

"And...would you mind if I...take the lead...this time?" You can barely look at him, and your voice is so low that only a super soldier could hear.

"I..."Steve’s heart suddenly skipped. God, you’re wonderfully full of surprises.

"Not at all." Not in a million lifetimes.

"Ok." You inhaled deeply to take charge, but all of a sudden, you stopped. As you were realizing something.

"W-What's wrong?" Steve didn’t dare to speak above a whisper, his mind racing through every possible reason as to why you suddenly hesitated like that.

“Is this…too fast?”

"Oh no." You immediately shook your head: "No, this is wonderful. It's just...my heart is beating so fast and so loud, I don't...I don't even know what to do with it, just...just give me a second to recover. Hold to that thought a little longer."

You wave your face with a hand, as you couldn’t breathe. Is too loud. This is too loud. Your heart was pounding too fast, you were afraid he could hear it. That everyone in this campus could hear it.

"Oh for god's sake!" He laughed so hard. His heart suddenly swelled, the moment was perfect…perfect in a way he never realized possible. He couldn't believe it, how can you be so adorable and drive him to the edge of wildness at the same time.

As you struggle to catch your breath and calm your racing heart, your eyes are drawn to him. His smile, his laughter, the sparkle in his eyes, the way he holds your hand. 

And in a moment of dumbfounded wonder, you find yourself uttering, "Are you even real…?”

He sighed, a long exhale filled with tenderness and emotions he couldn't yet understand. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered back with a smile.

"If I'm not real...your imagination is pretty damn amazing..."

"...I think this is beyond my imagination..."

Steve slowly moved his hand down to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb across the blushing skin: "Trust me, my imagination could never have come up with someone like you..."

"But..." You almost trembled under his touch, and as he raised your jaw to look at you, you finally took the lead.

"This is real." 

And you pressed your lips to his for an even more perfect second kiss.

Steve gasped.

They say marvelous things about the first kisses. But how can they say nothing about the second one?

His heart suddenly accelerating within his chest, overtaken by the sensation of your touch. He couldn't think, head completely foggy, mind blurred, with the only clarity of wanting more. 

His hand suddenly grabbed onto your waist, pulling you even closer to him, his own mouth instantly responding against yours. 

He was losing it to the urge, the need, to get even closer to you, to have all of you.

Your whole body was shivering, and when you got a chance to breathe, you uncontrollably whispered his name with a lost voice.

"Steve..."

And that's just it. 

That’s what set Steve on fire.

He slowly shifted his body, pulling you onto his lap so you were now sitting on his thighs. He leaned forwards to your ear, his hot breath on your neck as he spoke in a low whisper, his own voice almost pleading.

"Say it again..."

You opened your watery and moist eyes, and what you released was almost an uncontrolled begging moan, "Steve..." as you pressed your fingers tightly to his skin, unable to bear all these feelings.

Steve suddenly stopped all action, the sound of his name on your lips mixed with that look in your eyes sending a shiver down his spine.

"God..." He said as he breathed heavily and leaned back. Panting. 

For fucks’ sake. He thinks to himself.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me..." 

It took all the willpower within him not to act on his body's needs, not to press you down into the bench and claim all of you right there.

Your mind was so blurred and your body and heart were reacting so out of control that you had no idea what you were saying. So you just answered spontaneously in between panting breaths, "...Helping you with your sleeping problems?"

Steve chuckled. You were magical. His body was distressed after your reply, but still so pending on everything you made him feel. He looked at your blushed face and heard your agitated breathing. He couldn't understand how you truly had no idea of the effect you had on him, of how badly he wanted you right now. So he took a deep breath in, trying to hold himself back.

"Helping to sleep?" His thumb caressed your lips. "More like keeping me awake..."

"Oh..." As if you had any idea of how that had happened, ending up in his lap with this kiss that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

"So do you need another bedtime story?"

Steve chuckled again, your words bringing him back into the moment, grounding him a bit. He looked at you and smiled, shaking his head. "No, that's a wrap for today. But I need to ask you something."

Something he wanted to ask since you sat by his side tonight. But well, is not his fault that he was so easily distracted by you.

"And be honest with me, okay?" He inhaled slowly, and for a strange reason, his nerves rose again when you nodded. He slowly ran his eyes over your face, the way the light from the city below flickered on your skin. 

And for a moment he hesitated in asking, what if the answer was not what he expected?

"Are you...seeing anyone right now...? Like...do you have a...boyfriend...?"

"Oh." From all the questions on earth, this was the last one you expected. So you nodded. 

"Yeah, I do, from Mondays to Fridays, during working hours. Then, I'm allowed to hang around the campus at midnight to find a super soldier, sit on his lap, and kiss him."

Steve's eyes widened when he heard the first part, and then a loud laughter escaped his lips. 

He felt his heart filled with inexplicable joy. Damn, you were good. He was so glad, he couldn't stop smiling, and he felt his soul was full with your hand interlocked with his. As two perfect matched pieces from a puzzle.

"Well...?" You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"Are you?" You looked at him as if it were an obvious implication. "Seeing someone?"

"No." He was firm, the small smile still on his face. He looked up at you, slowly shaking his head. "No...I haven't been with anyone for a while...I haven't had any reason to..." And he sighed a gentle whisper, "...up until now, anyway..."

You were terrible at getting indirect answers. Your brain only worked with binary stuff. So you blinked several times, making sure you understood correctly.

"And...can you consider that possibility, right now?"

Steve held his gaze steady on yours, "What if...what if I said I already had someone in mind?"

"Is she...helping you with your sleeping problems? Or...a very good storyteller?"

Steve suddenly let out a chuckle. "Maybe ...but it's not just about the sleep, you know...It's about...having that person there...that one person who's always there for you...that one person who always makes you smile..." As you.

"...that person you can always be yourself around..." As you. He thought, while observing you, expecting your reaction.

"Well..." You nodded, thinking about it seriously. "I....I don't know if I'd be a good fit but...."

"...But...?"

Steve's nerves built again as you paused for a moment, he wanted to know if you were saying what he thought you were about to say.

"But I promise I'll do everything in my power to make you smile...and...and I'll be there...always...and...I'll do anything..." 

Your lack of courage didn't let you finish under the look of Steve's gaze. He was so serious that you started to stutter and couldn't finish those stupid words.

Well done. That sounded so cliche. You couldn't believe yourself.

But Steve sat there, completely stunned and frozen, your words slowly sinking in within his mind. He couldn't believe what you'd just said, how you'd spoken to them with such honesty, such conviction. And you weren't even together yet, you weren't a couple, you weren't...anything, really.

And his stomach was twisting into a knot as he listened to your every word, as he heard the meaning behind them.

A strange kind of calm washed over him, as if a weight was suddenly slowly lifted from his chest. You couldn't have said it better. He couldn't even imagine better, and yet, everything you said was exactly what he hoped you'd say, and those words had calmed and soothed something within him he'd never realized needed soothing.

"I AM SO SORRY." You, in the other hand, were a mess while he was still wonderstruck, thinking that made him feel so uncomfortable. "I'll take it back, I didn't say anything."

"No." He replied immediately. No, don't you dare take that back from me. 

He wanted to speak, wanted to say so much, but the words failed him. So he inhaled deeply, and cupped your face in his hands, pressed his forehead to yours.

"I m, I'm just...stunned, I'm just...marveled."

"Huh?" This emotional rollercoaster was killing you. "Why?"

Steve suddenly let out a small chuckle, your innocence and naivety when it came to your affect on him just kept him in endless wonder. But he had time. You'll find out eventually how important you are. And that makes him smile. That's a wonderful word: "Eventually." Means you have so much ahead of you together.

"Because...I've never heard anyone say the things you just said to me, that's why..."

"Oh." You are not really good at interpreting people's faces. So you just don't know what to say, and to be honest, there's something else you want to ask.

"Steve?"

"Mmh?"

"Can I have your phone number?"

Steve laughed again, God, what a night. How can you be this...amazing? He pulled the phone out, turning it on and pulling up the screen as he spoke.

"Of course you can...here...put your number in..."

"Yeah..." You rubbed your nose. "I don't know my phone number...Maybe...you can search it in the...public contact list? Here, let me help you." You say while entering your complete name in the organization's internal app.

"Oh." Steve frowns. "You don't know your phone number?"

"Well, do you?" You return his cellphone after finding your contact card in the top level section.

"I know EVERYONE'S number." Steve has a smirk on his face, his playful side suddenly coming out.

"Really? WHY?" You wonder. "You're on Level 0, you should have access to everything, you don't need to have to know the numbers by heart..."

"Because...I'm Captain America, I have to know these things..."

You take this joke so seriously, you're shocked. "REALLY? You know...like all the avenger's numbers?"

Steve snorted a laugh, the look on your face priceless. Oh, you gorgeous, adorable being. And he had this urge, of kissing you again, so he smiled, leaning a little closer to you as he spoke, his hand tightening around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Yeah...yeah I do...every single one..."

Your eyes sparkled.

"Can I have Thor's?"

"What?" That got him off guard, and he answered really fast. "NO." No way. You stay away from him. You're mine. 

"Why? Does he even use these things?" You were so genuinely intrigued. "Don't you talk to him through a magic mirror or something?"

"W...what..." Steve didn't know what to answer, he was laughing and shaking his head while swiping his contacts. "No, we don't have magic mirrors, I actually do have his number, look, over here 'God Of Thunder'..."

"Wow, did you actually name him 'God Of Thunder'?" You find that incredibly cute.

"Oh yeah...I'm one of those people that put's everything..." He held his phone in front of you.

"...well here it is...there's 'The Mighty Thor', the 'King of Asgard', also 'God of Thunder'...and 'Thunder God'...pick your favorite..."

You look at him while his sight is on the screen of his phone, your voice almost a whisper. 

"And...um...what would be...my contact name?"

"Well..." Steve's eyes were glancing down to his phone at your question, wondering what he would call you. He paused for a moment, scrolling to the section of his contacts list, his thumb hovering over the small, blank box for your name. He thought for a moment longer.

"What would you want it to be...?"

And your words escaped from your mouth before you could think clearly, before you could reply with anything smart.

"What do you want me to be? …to you?"

Steve suddenly froze, his finger hovering over the blank contact name as your words echoed in his ears, filling his mind. 

He straightened his pose, his eyes met yours, looking deep into them, silently trying to figure out what you'd just said.

And he finally exhaled slowly, his thoughts racing through his mind again, unable to form words for a moment. He could only manage a quiet voice, a soft whisper.

"How about...my Everything."

And there was once upon a time, a soldier who couldn't sleep asked for a wish to a fairy.

So there you were, feeling your heart has exploded into a million shining butterflies, and all the stars of the universe have made your wish come true, you took his hand and smiled.

"Your wish is granted, soldier."

END but TBC

Continue to: Chapter 2: Lucid | Chapter 3: Reverie

Hii thanks for reading & thanks for sticking with me this far <3 I hope you liked it and it wasn't too long to boring. This is my first time writing in english, hope it wasn't terrible :3 also, this is my first time setting this thing in tumblr, so fingers crossed it worked out okay ;_; A special hug to this lady who helped me set this up @jamneuromain (I still have no idea how this works)

Love.,

Moon.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [4 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You earn your water for the journey to Tarrath—and more importantly, a place in the pack. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

“You know what this is?” Carol’s displeasure with your distinct lack of tracking skill is evident as she squats down, poking a finger hard into the dust. You squint as you reach for an answer, knowing you won’t find one. She sighs heavily. 

“This is deer-sign,” she says, motioning for you to squat down like her. You do, the ragged remains of your skirt pooling around you. It’s riddled with holes now, long tears spreading up from the filthy hem that go almost to your knees. The pack isn’t scandalized by the sight of your ankles, however, and your concern for modesty in the face of your very survival is surprisingly low, so you haven’t bothered trying to repair them.

Carol fingers the snapped shafts of grass, their feathered tips bowed low. “You see the way it’s broken? With the prints, you can tell it’s gone this way. If you can’t smell it.” She adds, and you sigh. 

“You know I cannot.”  She shakes her head at your unsatisfactory response, furrowing her brows. 

“How do your people even hunt?” She complains exasperatedly, standing up to her full height.

“Skill.” You answer dryly. “And no small amount of luck, in my case,” you mutter, wiping your hands on your skirts as you stand. “This way?”

“Yes.” 

You’re practically swallowed by the grass, barely able to see over the top of it standing on your toes—so it takes you longer to see it than Carol. Her eyes narrow, ivory white fangs hanging down over her lips as she scents the air and  grins. 

“We’re close.” You can’t smell anything but the dry, hot wind pushing your sweat-laden hair back from your face. What you see, though, are the three-pronged hoof prints in the dirt that tell of the animal that came this way, the tufts of downy coat left snagged on the brush. You pinch the soft hair between your fingers, and sniff it as Carol nods encouragingly. It’s musky, with a distinct animal smell that makes you grimace. 

“Get your bow ready.” You do, pulling it from the strap on your back. It’s heavy; the buckle is almost as big as your head, but Carol had cut the leather down to size for you, slicing off a piece almost the length of your arm with the hunting knife at her side. 

“Show me how you draw. No, not like that. Here.” You feel like a child, the way she scolds the position of your hands when you draw back the string. “Were you an orc wean, you’d have been born with a bow in hand. But I suppose it isn’t abysmal for someone who first held one a day ago.” 

She leads you through the shifting grass-sea, crawling through the dust towards a stunted copse of dry trees. You stay low, mirroring Carol’s low-squat as she makes her way through. She is careful not to break any branches, taking her time to pick her way through the brush as quietly as possible. And therefore, so are you. There is water here—a little. You can taste the way it saturates the air, and a thrill passes through you. Water, here, means prey. 

The two of you stay low, approaching the muddy little pool with baited breath. The air is still, liable to shift at any moment, but Carol doesn’t seem nervous. You are, though, your palms moist and your heart beating so hard you fear everything within a mile can hear it. 

There, on the other side of the pool, is the deer. It’s a fully grown stag, his long, spiraling horns at least twice the length of your arms. There is nothing soft in the grasslands, your father had said, the words scented sour with ale. Everything eats, and is eaten. The stag has short, thick, wiry fur, with a tail that was long, like a lizard’s. You watch as it leans down toward the muddy puddle, snuffling through it with a long, pointed snout.

You draw back on the string as he stands up, nostrils flaring. It digs into the meat of your fingers as you pull back with all your strength and let go, the arrow whistling through the air to strike the stag through the fore-shank. It’s mouth opens too wide as it shrieks, the sound echoing out into the wilderness. 

“Move!” Carol yells as the stag paws the ground with its good leg, bloody foam frothing around its nostrils. It charges only a moment later, turning the dry, hollowed out trees you’d been using for cover into splinters and kindling. You roll away, the metallic stench of its blood strong in your nostrils and your own heart thundering in you ears. You push yourself up to your feet, your hand going to the quiver at your back. 

The stag’s tail whips excitedly behind it as it snaps its jaws, circling you.  You can smell it, the hot copper of its blood, the sweat gleaming on its flanks and the sour tang of your own fear. The stag lowers its head, its horns pointed straight at your chest as it charges. You barely have time to aim, bringing the bow up and loosing the arrow. 

It thuds wetly into the stag’s chest, and with another horrible scream it collapses into the dust, skidding to a stop just inches from you. Your own chest is heaving as you stare at its body, wide eyed. It feels like you aren’t getting any air as you gulp down breaths that taste of hot dust and fresh blood. You watch as the stag twitches in the dust, its chest heaving once, twice, before its amber eyes go dark. Your legs give out, dropping you to your knees in the dirt. 

Carol emerges from the brush on the other side of the stag’s body, but you do not see her, not really, your eyes locked on the thick arrows protruding from its hide like misbegotten horns. She smooths a hand over its eyes, closing them, before she squats over the carcass. Silently, she jabs a thumb into one of its sluggishly bleeding wounds, before crouching in front of you. She grabs your chin, before swiping her bloody fingers down over your cheeks.

She gives you a pleased look as she stands away, and you lightly touch the streaky marks of sticky red she’s left on your skin, your brows furrowing with confusion. 

“You earned them.” She says proudly, painting another few stripes on your forehead for good measure. Carol helps you drag your kill back to camp, a murmur passing through the pack at the sight of you. Steve es sat by the water, his broadsword laid across his thighs as he cleans it. He stands as you approach, and you duck your head as he inspects the stag. Your breath hitches in your throat as he reaches for you, one massive finger sliding beneath your chin as he tilts it up. 

“Let them see your honor, little hunter,” he says, smoothing his thumb gently over one of Carol’s marks. “Let them see.” 

to be continued…

next

[fanfic-scribbles]

Digestifs: Chapter Six (Excerpt)

I don’t like posting 18+ stuff to Tumblr, so here’s a snippet of Digestif’s sixth chapter. And here’s a link to the full piece on AO3.

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Steve Rogers and his girlfriend may not always know what they’re doing, but they’re willing to work it out. Together.

It’s just more fun that way.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Chapter Six: Girls On Top – Switching it up in the bedroom makes for a surprising adventure with a few bumps in the road, but it's worth it in the end.

Excerpt:

~

I snorted, and couldn’t help but grin. “How many times do I have to remind you, Captain? I’m a civilian and I don’t take orders. If you wanna call the shots in this room, you’re gonna have to earn it.”

“Hm.” There was defiance in his eyes and he licked his lips. “Really? Because I don’t see anyone here to challenge me.”

“Oh? I guess the room is empty then,” I said, doing up the zipper and simultaneously starting to scoot to the edge of the bed. I only got halfway up the former and barely anywhere in the latter when Steve used one hand to propel himself onto the bed, landing with his legs on either side of me.

I let out a yelp of surprise but fell back in laughter. “You dick!” I said and pushed at his chest.

He exaggerated being affected by my pathetic show of not-strength, to the point where I could actually swoop up and shove him into really moving. He was briefly surprised, and then there was a mischievous glint in his eye, and we devolved into a wrestling match that must have been ridiculous to him in how even it felt to me. Still, I gave as much as I could, and Steve allowed it, until I actually ended up on top of him, firmly straddling his waist and breathing heavily, while he lay like he had just flopped onto bed. His hair was a little mussed, so I took that for a win, even though I probably looked a mess with my chest just barely covered, and starting to sweat.

I took a deep breath and straightened my jacket before putting my hands on either side of his head. “Looks like I win.”

~

(Read More Here)

[sarahowritesostucky]

����"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 7129

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, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, 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 themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

12. Pôt de crème

Mary

That day really winds up feeling like the epitome of a terrible horrible, no good, very bad fucking day for Mary, and it starts early. Leaving the apartment for work after the massage cocktease from Hell is odd.

She’s left feeling happy to have helped, but also hurt, disappointed, and mad at herself, of all things. That was the perfect opportunity for her to make a move and finally force those two to tell her that they’re not interested! (Though a small and pitifully thirsty part of her brain still exists in the fantasy land where they’d take her up on it.) But she’d chickened out and kept it strictly platonic. Ugh. Lame.

She manages not to think about it for a while, as she gets into the rhythm of her day at the bakery. She still can’t shake the cloud of anxiety and irritability looming over her, though. The good old days of any lasting effects from Bucky’s drops are gone, and instead she’s left to slowly percolate a bad mood as she clocks in and figures out the best order to get her projects done for that day.

Dennis is the manager on schedule, which sucks because Mary’s never liked him, but he’s in the office for the most part, since he’s a stuck up do-nothing, and she's able to pretend that she’s alone. 

No matter though. She can’t focus on anything, feels overly emotional, and almost breaks out in tears when she drops a tray of cupcakes on the floor. She manages to hold it together as she cleans up the mess, and moves onto the next task. Her list for the day now feels miserably long, and she doesn’t even enjoy decorating the base-iced babycakes that are waiting for her from yesterday. She fucks up the writing on one of them and loses her shit over something that is not worth losing her shit over. That’s the stupid thing that finally pushes her to tears, and she tosses her piping bag angrily onto the counter, what the fucking herself and feeling like she’s going crazy. 

Like baseball, there’s no crying in kitchens: That’s what the walk-in’s for. So, she hides back by the dairy products until she’s able to pull herself together. She comes out shivering, not crying, and in a horrible mood. 

Buttercream is next, so she gets the sugar boiling and the egg whites whisking in the forty quart. She tries to talk herself up in her head as she goes through motions of streaming in the sugar and then scaling the butter she���ll add to it once it’s whipped cool. “You’re not bad at your job,” she mumbles to herself, trying to push the threat of tears away with positive thoughts. “You’re not.”

Jesus fuck, why is she feeling like this? Nothing that bad has even happened! So she dropped some fucking cupcakes, so what? It happens. She checks her phone to see if she’s about to get her period, but that’s not it. Her focus is shit, so of course she eventually goes back to thinking about Bucky and Steve. 

Today is Bucky’s day off. Mary thinks about him being in pain that morning and how his movements had been crippled by pain. … She thinks about his broad, muscled back under her hands, his warm skin, the moans of relief he’d given whenever she worked out a knot. Poor guy. Even though she hates to think of enduring it again, she has to admit to herself that she does care about Bucky, and she would endure it if he needed her help. Hell, if it’s something that’ll help him in the long run, she’ll have to do at least one or two more massage sessions to teach Steve the ropes so he can help his husband in her absence.

Bucky doesn’t want her to do it. She pouts about that, but scolds herself as soon as she realizes she’s doing so. Don’t be lame over guys who don’t want you. So Bucky and Steve just want to be gay together in peace, so what? Why is she losing her shit over the tiniest rejection like this?!

She ruminates on it while she’s at the stove stirring a massive batch of pôt de crème custard, and it occurs to her that the part she’s actually most upset about isn’t their platonic feelings for her: it’s her own lack of bravery and straightforwardness with Bucky and Steve, and how she’s become such a pathetic wallflower over the past few months. 

Maybe if she’d flat out asked about a romantic relationship from the beginning, she could’ve gotten the rejection out of the way and been putting herself out there to meet someone new by now. She might’ve met a Dom at one of the Center’s socials, or at least could’ve been swiping the apps and going on dates. Getting laid.

But instead suddenly she’s turned into a shy girl (obnoxious). She hasn’t been a virgin since college, and it wasn’t like she wasn’t sleeping with whoever she could get her hands on, back before Steve and Bucky 'adopted' her. She’d been so good at it back then, saying what she meant and going for what she wanted, dragging at least one new guy back to her place to fuck every other week. Why can’t she just do something now? 

Frowning, she decides that she will do something over it. The ideal would be to move back to her own place, but she can’t with the custody order in place and Dr. Linda on Bucky’s side. Gritting her teeth, she figures she’ll do the next best thing: she’ll start getting laid again. She’ll go out and meet people. She’ll go out straight after work each day. Unless he wants to physically tie her up and keep her prisoner in the apartment, Bucky can’t stop it. 

She’s just got to work up the nerve to break his rules like that. Nerve which, in her current mood, seems quite out of reach. She sighs and reaches up to grab the Grand Marnier off the shelf for the pôt de crème. All she feels like doing now is going back to the apartment and crawling into bed, to be honest. She wonders if this is what actual clinical depression feels like. Maybe. Maybe worse. Sarcastically, she thinks that a shot or three of alcohol would certainly help, and then she pauses with her hand on the bottle as she’s about to pour it into the custard. Oh. 

She’s not drinking anymore. 

Fuck. That’s it. She’s hardly ever had sex sober in her life. Barely ever even flirted without some liquid courage in her system. That’s what’s changed. She always used pick up guys in bars, or at other places where everybody had a drink in their hand. And at home at her apartment, whenever the creeping buildup of anxiety and irritability would get to be too much, a couple vodka sprites were what made her feel better. She pauses in her stirring. Thinking about it now is making her almost physically yearn for a stiff one. 

She looks down at the bottle in her hand, shame coloring her cheeks as soon as she has the thought. Even at her worst, Mary never drank on the job. She grimaces at herself and hurriedly sets the bottle back on the shelf before temptation can win out, then turns back to the stove.

“Fuck!” she hisses, scrambling to turn off the burner when she’s met with the sight of lumpy pôt de crème. She whisks it frantically to try and stop it, but it’s too far gone: The eggs in the custard have curdled. She throws her head back and groans. “God dammit!”

She makes a last ditch effort to save it by dumping the lumpy custard into a Cambro, tossing in a few ice cubes, and furiously burr-mixing it with the immersion blender, but it’s no use. She’s irrevocably ruined a massive batch of dessert (with the expensive liqueur already added in it, to boot) because she wasn’t paying attention. Growling, she dumps it all in the trash bin before Dennis can happen to walk by and see, then stomps back to the fridge to grab ingredients to rescale the recipe.

She lines up sheet trays of paper dessert cups on her workstation table for decanting … and takes one cup with her over to the stove while she stands there and cooks the second batch of pôt de crème.

It’s when she’s stirring and pouring that second measure of liqueur into the pot that she gives into impulse and pours a shot’s worth of the stuff into the extra paper baking cup—that she now realizes she brought over for this express purpose in the first place. She gives the empty kitchen a furtive glance, and tosses it back. “Ugh.” 

Orange flavored liqueur? Really Mary?

She hears the rebuke in Bucky’s voice in her head, which is annoying and drives her to repeat the action once she’s drank the first. She tosses back a second. Gross gross gross. She checks the label on the bottle: 40% ABV. Good. She puts the bottle back on the shelf, pissed about feeling so uncomfortable in her skin that she stubbornly refuses to feel guilty over her actions, and finishes cooking the custard to a smooth nappé this time. Perfect. 

She pours the custard over the white chocolate and lets it melt. She burr mixes it, strains it. Ready to go.

Later maybe she’ll feel bad about it, but as she grabs the sauce gun and begins the tedious process of dispensing the pôt de crème into the cups, that warm, pleasant feeling of a buzz starts to creep up on her, and she finds herself in a better mood before long. Things seem brighter, and she finally feels like she can breathe. She’s able to think about Bucky and Steve without feeling like a piece of dirt, and even laughs about the stupid massage episode. Two shots of liqueur on an empty stomach makes that seem like not such a big deal, and she simply decides that she won’t volunteer for massage duty anymore, because obviously it was a mistake. She’d liked helping Bucky to feel better when he was hurting, but not enough to make up for having to endure the very non-platonic swooping in her belly she’d gotten from having her hands all over his naked back. Fuck, is he ever hot. Both of them are. They’re bodies are just, guh. 

She doesn’t need that frustration in her life.

She’s got a moderate buzz by the time she finishes her next project, and she cheerfully bops onto her next task. 

It’s such a relief, not having that heavy feeling of anxiousness and general uncomfortability weighing down on her. Jeez, she hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten. She forgot how much a few drinks helped. She gets giddy and chases that feeling, quickly sneaking another quick shot (this time of the rum they use on the rum buns, though, because it really was gross that she drank that liqueur straight—blecgh). What’s one more quick drink in between batches of cakes going in and out of the oven, after all?

… And then just once more, after she’s added the last chunk of the butter into the whipping forty quart. By the time she’s got everything set out to basic-build the next bunch of babycakes, she’s in a great mood. It’s almost as good as the subspace had been, back in the beginning with Bucky. She hums songs under her breath and moves around the kitchen assembling and icing the cute little five inch cakes that are her specialty.

It’s her pet project, something she’d suggested to Mr. Flaherty, the bakery’s owner. Not only are they friggin’ adorable, they’re easy to bang out a bunch of them all at once, small enough to cost pennies to make, and big enough and cute enough that people are willing to pay way more than the cakes are actually worth. Mary knows for a fact that they have the highest profit margin of any item in the bakery. She’s privately very proud that Mr. Flaherty had listened to her idea and decided it was something they would offer on the regular menu. Dennis had underplayed it—like the jealous killjoy he is. 

Mary celebrates her good mood with another teeny sip of booze and then spends extra effort on smooth-icing in all the best pastel colors, thinking that today is a great day and can only get better from here.

Wrongo bongo.

“What the heck!”

“Oh, shit,” Mary hisses, running into the back when she smells burning bread and hears her manager’s voice calling out. Sure enough, Dennis is there, oven mitts in hand, angrily sliding a tray of blackened croissants onto the speed rack, and going back to the oven to pull out another. There are six trays of ruined croissants, and Mary grimaces “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

Dennis ignores her until he’s finished pulling out all the wasted product, and when he’s done, he lays her out. “This isn’t fucking Panera Bread,” he tells her angrily. “We’re a mom and pop bakery. Profit margins are slimmer than slim!”

Mary cringes. “I know, I know, I’m sor—”

“How much money did you just cost us?” Dennis demands, hands on his hips. “Huh? Tell me. I want you to stand there and think about it and tell me how much.”

Mary stares for a second, then realizes that he’s dead serious. Humiliated, she licks her lips and does the math: 6 trays of 10 = 60 croissants, 60 x $4 per ganache-stuffed croissant, minus about $30 ingredients cost. It takes her longer than it normally would, since she’s been drinking, but when she’s worked it out she winces and looks down in shame. “I dunno … A little over two hundred, I guess.”

Dennis flails his hand holding the oven mitts. “We can’t afford to have you ruining hundreds of dollars of profit, Mary. Get it together.”

She frowns, indignant. “I was up front helping a customer,” she defends. 

“That’s what the oven timer is for.”

“I know that. I just forgot to—”

“You’re forgetting a lot of things lately.” He gestures angrily at the trays of blackened croissants. “I’ve tried to help you. I gave you time off to get your shit together when your boyfriend came in and told me about your mental condition.”

Mary grits her teeth. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Dom, dungeon master, whatever,” he says nastily. “I don’t know what you people get up to. But I’ve given you a lot of chances cause you’re apparently dealing with some shit. I can’t keep doing that forever if you keep costing this place money.”

Mary glares and steps up closer, getting in his face. “Maybe if you actually hired someone for front of house on Tuesdays, then I could actually focus back here!”

Dennis’ expression changes suddenly. He narrows his eyes at her and leans in closer. “What’s that?” he says, deathly quiet.

Mary huffs. “I said, you need to hire more—”

“You smell like alcohol.”

Everything comes to a stop as his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. Oh, fuck. She takes a step back, shaking her head. “What?” She scowls like that’s absurd, about to say something to deny it, but the words die on her lips when she sees the way Dennis is looking at her. He knows. Mary feels sick.

Dennis’ expression darkens further. “Are you drinking on the job, Mary?”

“No!” (what’s she supposed to do, tell the truth?)

“I don’t believe you.” He squares his jaw. “I’m calling Mr. Flaherty in.”

“What?!” 

“Two hundred dollars of wasted product? Drinking on the job?” He’s already walking over to the wall phone and picking it up. When he looks back in Mary’s direction, there’s a gleam in his eyes. Fucker never did like her. “I told him I thought you had a drinking problem, and now I have proof.”

“You don’t have shit!” Mary cries. She’s actually panicking though, as she watches him dial the number to call the bakery’s owner. 

“I have the security cameras,” he says, looking vindictively pleased. “We’ll check them. You’re gonna be out of a job.” 

Mary stands there and watches in horrified disbelief as Dennis calls Mr. Flaherty and tells him that he needs to have a word with him in person that afternoon about “something serious.” He doesn’t give details, and when the call ends and he hangs up the phone, he shoots Mary a smug look. “I’ll work the register so that you can finish your shift back here and not make any more stupid mistakes.” 

Mary scoffs, panicked and angry and sick to her stomach with what’s happening. “No way! Forget it!” She hurries to untie her apron and yank it off. “I’m not gonna stick around here for you to lie and get me fired. I quit!” She tosses the apron to the floor and stalks back to grab her purse from the office, too panicked to think straight. She cannot stay there and see poor old Mr. Flaherty watch video evidence of her drinking on the job. He’s always been so nice to her, and now she’s betrayed him and fucked everything up. She’s just ruined the only job she’s ever liked. 

Dennis is getting less and less angry and more gleeful about it. “Bye bye, Hot-Mess Mary,” he sneers. “Don’t bother coming back. We’ll mail you your last paycheck. Have a nice life.”

“Fuck you, Dennis!” she yells, though her voice comes out choked with emotion. She shoulders her purse and whirls around before there’s any chance of him seeing her tearing up. She hurries for the back door that leads out to the alleyway. It's heavy and metal, and she shoulders it open with a grunt, stepping out. “Jealous prick,” she says, only to hear him laugh meanly and call out from inside,

“Jealous? Of you? An alcoholic pervert?”

The heavy back door slams shut before she can answer, and there’s no handle on the outside. It takes approximately two point five seconds for her to burst out crying.

Steve

“Fuck, Honey, ugh.”

Steve digs his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s ass and shuffles closer on his knees. On the couch (whose cushions have since been put back into place), Bucky parts his legs even farther and Steve takes him in deeper. His other hand keeps nudging the toy that’s buried in his husband’s ass—the glass p-spot toy, because unlike Steve, Bucky loves firmness but hates vibrations up there. Steve’s been gently fucking him with it, nudging it against his prostate again and again, having found the perfect angle. Every grunt and moan that he gets out of Bucky has his own cock throbbing in his underwear, but he isn’t touching himself, is devoting every ounce of his attention to resolving the “problem” that Mary’s massage left Bucky with. 

“You know,” Bucky says, voice a little breathy as he speaks between groans. “I’m never gonna—nnh. Never gonna look at this couch again without thinking of her oily hands sliding all over my back."

Steve hums in agreement, the sound reverberating around Bucky’s cock and pulling another hiss from him. Steve pops off to glance upwards. “Me too,” he says, and they share a look of heated yearning, before he shakes it off and sinks his mouth back down on Bucky’s throbbing length.

He’s been dragging it out, having fun with it. But now it’s gotten sloppy and wet, and Steve’s jaw aches, and he really wants to make Bucky come so he can finally get a hand around himself. He hums around Bucky’s cock once more while he still can, then takes him all the way to the hilt, nose pressing into his pubes and throat spasming around the head.

“Oh! shit …” Bucky’s fingers dig sharply into Steve's scalp. His hips stutter up of their own accord, making Steve choke a little, but he soldiers on. Bucky makes a helpless little sound that is very close to a whimper, and which has Steve’s belly pulling tight with arousal. “Close, Baby. So close, fuck …”

Steve purposefully chokes himself, letting it hit the back of his throat again and again, swallowing compulsively. It gets him what he wants, which is for this blowjob to be over.

Above him, Bucky slumps further on the cushions and groans long and low, the tortured moan letting Steve know that he’s cresting that edge. He pulls back to suck hard on the head, abandoning the toy to the clenching of Bucky's ass so he can stroke him through it. He hums happily when he feels the pulse of Bucky’s cock on his tongue, the hot spurts of cum, the clenching of thighs muscle beneath his hands. Fuck, it’s sexy. 

Having been with the man for so long, Steve knows exactly when to ease off. He gentles his touch and stops sucking. He waits with Bucky’s softening cock in his mouth, not pulling off until the hands that were gripping him desperately a moment ago smooth gently through his hair in gratitude. Steve pulls off, keeps his mouth closed, doesn’t swallow. Bucky’s flushed and wet cock falls onto his belly, gorgeously swollen and spent. Steve’s staring at it covetously when Bucky gives a long, shaky exhale from above, tapering off in a satisfied groan. “Stevie,” he sighs happily. “Mmhh. Fuck. C’mere.” 

He pulls Steve up onto the couch, not satisfied until he’s got him in his lap. Steve straddles him and smiles with his mouth still closed. “Good boy,” Bucky whispers, reaching up to gently cup the front of his neck. His eyes are heavy lidded but still heated as he strokes his thumb over Steve’s windpipe. He loves to watch Steve swallow his cum, and that’s why Steve hasn’t yet, is waiting for his signal. He’s very good at making a show of it: dragging it out, eye contact, showing the load on his tongue if Bucky wants, swallowing slowly and obviously; really turning it into an act of obedience for his husband.

He’s surprised when Bucky doesn’t tell him to swallow. “Hold it,” he says instead, confusing Steve. Bucky grins devilishly and reaches down between their bodies. He returns with the glass toy in hand and holds it up. “Get it wet," he purrs.

And Steve’s entire body goes stiff as he re-remembers that he’s married to the filthiest man on the fucking planet.

Steve must be filthy too, though, because a massive wave of arousal sweeps through him as Bucky holds up the toy with a dirty smirk and commands him to wet it up—with his own cum. Steve almost feels lightheaded from how all the blood rushes to his cock and away from his brain. He groans through his mouthful of cum, and Bucky’s lips curl. “You heard me. Do it.”

He looks down and aims, letting his mouthful of cum slide out onto the tip of the glass toy that was buried in Bucky’s ass not ten seconds ago. It’s obscene, filthy, and that only makes his belly swirl that much harder as Bucky uses his flesh fingertips to spread the cum around lazily, coating the clear glass with his own sticky cum. “Good,” he praises, still smirking at Steve through half lidded eyes. “Now, put it in.” 

Steve groans and takes the toy from him. They haven’t done prep, but it’s a small, slim toy, and he knows it’ll slide in easily with the help of his husband’s own jizz slicking the way. Jesus Christ. He starts to move, intending to take his underwear off, but Bucky stops him with an amused shake of the head.

“Uh uh. Just pull ‘em aside and put it in. Keep your briefs on.”

“Fuck.” He listens, reaching back to pull his underwear to the side and press the head of the toy to his rim. He works it inside, eyelids fluttering when it pops past the muscle and glides in smoothly. “Oh,” he sighs, letting his underwear snap back and shifting his hips to feel the stretch against his rim, the heavy curve of it settling into place against his prostate. “Fuck.” He starts rocking his hips in tiny motions to work it inside him, barely-there sounds of pleasure escaping him each time it does. “Ooh, Buck,” he breathes. He doesn’t realize his eyes have closed until Bucky startles him with a kiss, growling and tugging him in close by the back of the neck. “Mmph!”

Their lips clash in a harsh, demanding kiss, Bucky taking possession of it and gripping the back of his neck hard to keep him still. Steve pants and whines and takes it, hips juddering forward to grind his aching dick against Bucky’s stomach. Each dominating swipe of Bucky’s tongue into his mouth makes him ache for more. “Buck,” he pants, right against Bucky's lips, where he's shamelessly kissing his messy mouth. “Baby, oh, please?”

“Yeah?” His hand cups Steve from over his underwear, squeezing the line of his erection. “You’re so fucking amazing, you know that?” he husks, dipping under the waistband to curl his fingers around him. “Make me feel so good, fuck, I love you.”

Steve moans and rests his forehead on Bucky's naked shoulder, looking down to watch. He whines when he sees that it’s the metal hand—which he already knew by feel, but the sight of it is a whole other level of hot. Steve thinks of it like a knife kink, or a gun kink: seeing something so steely and dangerous that close to him, wrapped around and working him, giving him pleasure. The sight of all that black and gold metal on his cock makes his belly clamp down hard in need. “Oh fuck, ” he breathes. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Yeah, Sweetheart.” Bucky kisses his ear and breathes hotly against him as he pumps and twists his hand, going tight just the way Steve likes. It’s messy from the precum that Steve’s dick keeps blurting out, and he whimpers at the soft, wet sounds it begins making. “I know,” Bucky whispers. “You get so worked up. I love that. Big fat cock n’ balls, but you wet up for me just like a girl, dontcha' Sweetheart? Bet you started right down there on your knees, too. Hard and leaking just from sucking me off, making a mess in your panties.” Steve groans in embarrassment and Bucky snickers. “Aw, don’t try to deny it. I saw that boner when you crawled on up here. Saw the wet spot on those tighty-whities, too.” Playfully, he snaps the elastic band of Steve’s underwear against his hip. “You get off on it. Pretty little cocksucker.”

Steve humps into his fist, which between how slick it is and how tightly Bucky’s gripping him, feels fucking amazing. “Nnuhh,” he moans, “I get off on you. You were so—fuck, mmph—so hard when she left. I f-felt bad for you.”

Bucky growls and strokes faster. “Don’t be patronizing, baby. I saw the state she left you in. At least I had the excuse of getting rubbed down.” He snickers lowly and presses another kiss to Steve's ear. “She wasn’t even touching you.”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly, as he recalls the image of Mary sitting on the bed with Bucky, rubbing his naked back with her oiled hands—Her tiny oiled hands, that would look so good on their cocks. Fuck, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast. He pants, trying to get words out. “I—nuhh, oh. I wanted to—mmm …”

Bucky bites his earlobe. “Wanted to what? Tell me.”

“Wanted to watch her give you a happy ending,” he grunts. “Tell you to turn over n’ watch her jerk you off.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks, voice dark and interested. “Mm. You miss women.” Steve whines and nods in lieu of an answer. “Well maybe we’ll get a third sometime. A special treat. Only this time we'll get a girl, take turns fucking her. Maybe I’ll even have her fuck you with a strap-on.” Steve moans and kisses him dirtily, and Bucky reciprocates, hand leaving Steve’s cock so he can hold his jaw with both hands. 

Steve whimpers and his hips keep moving, chasing the friction that isn’t there anymore. “Buck,” he breaks off from the kiss to beg. “Please. Please. I need to cum.”

Bucky smiles and takes pity on him, but he switches up his hands, using the flesh one on Steve’s cock so that he can squeeze even more, really wringing up hard and thumbing under the head on every stroke. Steve sobs and sits back, bracing on Bucky’s shoulders and watching himself fuck into clench of his fist. “Yeah,” he moans. “Oh, God. Fuck yeah, just like that.”

“How’s that toy feel?” Bucky reaches his other hand underneath and taps against the glass toy’s base a few times— ‘tap, tap, tap,’ —humming in satisfaction when Steve cries out and ruts desperately into his fist. “Ooh,” he goads. “It feels that good, huh?” Tap, tap, tap. “It that gonna make you cum?”

“Nnnh.” Steve nods tightly, hips working hard. “Yeah, oh. Yeah. M’gonna. Ohgn…”” 

His balls draw up tight and his cock jerks when Bucky takes hold of the toy’s base and starts slowly pulling it out. That feeling against his rim is what does it, pushing him over the edge and making the pleasure coalesce and snap.

He cries out sharply as he shoots, his body straining and hips pulsing, ribbons of white cum striping over Bucky’s naked stomach, one after another.

“Fuck, Honey. So beautiful. Fuck that’s a lot. Fuck. Lookit’ you, big boy.”

His cooing praise drags it out longer, and by the time Steve’s dick is spent and softening again, he’s collapsed forward against Bucky, mess of cum between them be damned. He rests his head on his shoulder and hugs him while he recovers. “Fuck,”  pants, closing his eyes and enjoying the sheer relief of it all. “That was good. I needed that.”

Bucky hums and rubs his back. “Me too.”

When they finally peel themselves off each other, they’re faced with two wet, spent dicks, and the mess of cum that did not magically disappear just because Steve wanted it to. He sighs and climbs off the couch.

“Shower,” Bucky decides, and goes into the bathroom with Steve following behind. He starts the water running and shucks his joggers that he'd only just pulled back up. “Feel like we were just doin’ this,” he complains.

“That’s cause we were.” Steve pads over and stands against him, leaning in, chest to chest.

Bucky leans against the wall and wraps his arms around Steve’s lower back while they wait for the water to warm up. “Do you really want a threesome?” he asks. “Like we used to do?" 

Steve sighs and presses his forehead into Bucky’s chest. His first inclination is to say yes. They used to sleep with men, have threesomes a few times a year, for fun. They’d only stopped because they’d mutually fallen into contentment with married life. But Steve realizes it’s the way Bucky’s framed it: does he want to have threesomes again. With a girl. And the answer is no. Steve doesn’t want to have 'a threesome' anymore, with 'a girl', or 'a guy'. He doesn’t want anything casual. He says as much, and groans into Bucky’s skin. “I just want her,” he says. “I want it to be serious, and I want it with her.”

Bucky strokes his back, not saying anything for a long minute. “Yeah,” he eventually agrees. “Me too.” 

Steve makes a mournful sound in his throat. “Can’t we try? Maybe ask her out on a date? She might come around if she doesn’t feel like we’re just trying to jump her bones straight away, y’know? We’ve never really had that time with her. It went straight from ‘how do you do’ to moving her in here with us.” Bucky’s chest rises and falls with a deep inhale, and his hands have stopped moving on Steve’s back, which is how Steve knows he's really thinking about it. “Buck?” he tries. “C’mon. Let’s just give it a shot. Linda said she needs sex anyways, and I know you don’t like the idea of her with another man.”

Against him, bucky growls grumpily.

“Just one more try,” Steve pleads. “Let’s just tell her upfront we have feelings for her and that we’d like to court her.”

Bucky snorts. "'Court’?”

Steve whaps him and pulls his head back. “You know what I mean. Nice stuff. Take her out, buy her flowers.” 

“I know what you mean.”

They stare in each other's eyes as Steve reaches over to feel the shower water. It's warm. “It’ll be her choice," he says. "We won’t be bossy.”

“Kind of hard not to be bossy when she thrives on that.”

Steve gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs. “Yeah I know what you mean.” He pulls the curtain and goes to step into the shower, but Steve stops him from behind with a hand on his arm—his left one. “And this,” he says, looking at him with authority. “Let me take this off. And you keep it it off around the house like you used to do.” He watches the brief reluctance that plays out on Bucky’s face, but is relieved when his husband doesn’t turn it into a fight. “Thank you, babe,” he says, taking the arm off and setting it out on their bed before returning to the bathroom. Bucky’s in the shower, so he steps in and stands with him under the spray. He wraps his arms around Bucky from behind, letting his left hand drag up over his stomach and chest, up to the anchor site where it meets his pec. “You can be a good Dom without it, you know,” he murmurs. 

“... I know. It was silly.”

He kisses Bucky’s shoulder. “Not silly. I love you.” In his arms, Bucky’s body bleeds all its tension and he lets a little bit of his weight come back through Steve, who kisses his neck again. “Tonight?” he asks, knowing that Bucky will know what he means. 

Bucky nods. “Tonight.”

Bucky

“A bar?!”

"Yeah. Leave me alone."

Bucky stares helplessly as Mary kicks off her shoes and walks (stumbles, is more like it) through the apartment and back towards her bedroom. The conversation they've just had was short and completely non-productive, other than that it's got Bucky feeling like he's on the verge of blowing up. “Mare, stop! Come back here.”

She throws him the finger over her shoulder and pushes into her bedroom, shutting the door harshly behind her. Bucky growls and starts for the hallway, but Steve stops him with a hand to his shoulder, pulling him back. “Hang on, Babe.”

“She’s drunk!” Bucky hisses, turning furious eyes to Steve. “Been missing for hours and now this?! How did she even get it?”

“I know, I know.”

Bucky snarls, mad at Steve for being so fucking calm. “Did you give her her ID back?!”

“No! Don’t be stupid, babe.”

His eyes cut over, sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes. “She’s thirty Hon. I’m sure there are plenty of bartenders who’d serve her without checking.”

“Well that’s just, just …” Bucky sputters, struggling to find the words. “There have to be consequences!” He starts for the hall again but Steve grabs him and pulls him back and into a restraining hug. Bucky kind of wants to hit him. “Steve!”

“Shh,” Steve says. “Sh sh, just hang on a second. Take a deep breath.” He holds him tightly, rubbing his back and nosing at his neck, and Bucky realizes that Steve is employing some of the things he’s learned at the CDP, trying to calm him down.

He blinks, noticing how hot his face feels, how fast his pulse is thrumming underneath his skin. He exhales shakily, feeling bad. “Fuck. I'm ..."

"Yeah."

"Sorry.” 

“S’okay,” Steve whispers. “Maybe today’s not the best day, after all.”

Bucky’s eyes flick over in the direction of the kitchen table. “Better get rid of those, then,” he grunts, referring to the flowers Steve had picked up at the bodega for Mary.

“I will. And we’ll figure this out, find out what happened, and talk to her another day, okay? We'll get new flowers.” 

“No, not okay,” Bucky insists, his anxiety ratcheting up again as he thinks of the state Mary just came home in. “We need to deal with her.” 

Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, and Bucky feels like an asshole all over again. “What do you need?” Steve asks quietly.

Bucky grits his teeth. To spank the ever loving shit outta that girl, he thinks but doesn’t say. He knows better than that, even on the verge of an episode, he can tell that he’s not being logical. He closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths, pulls away from Steve because he’s embarrassed. “Nothin’.”

“Hey, it’s okay to need—”

“It’s not,” Bucky snaps, walking over to the couch and dumping himself onto it. He feels kind of sick—likely his blood pressure making him nauseous. “How am I supposed to be a good Dom for her when I can’t even keep myself in check? Christ.” He shoves his face into his hand. “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

Steve takes a minute, and when he approaches Bucky it’s with a gentle, careful expression that Bucky hates. “Babe, you know that makes no sense, right?” Bucky just grunts and Steve says, “That's like a diabetic saying they should have better willpower to control their insulin levels.”

Bucky glares at him for the trite comparison, wants to snap at his husband to stop quoting CDP literature at him. But that’d be nasty, and he bites his tongue. “No,” he grunts.

“You got told by Linda that you’re not giving her enough, not doing enough to meet her needs, and it’s been days since you really went up. You think I can't see that her drops aren't doing it for you now? You're too in tune with her. You both need more. And I should’ve seen this coming.” Steve sinks down to the carpet in front of him and kneels there reaching to rub his palms over the tops of Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky scowls at the gesture. “That’s not your job,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“I’m your husband,” Steve says, almost authoritatively, even though he’s keeping his voice soft and calm like the Center professionals taught him. “It’s my job to take care of you, always.” He rubs Bucky’s tense muscles from over his jeans. “Babe, c’mon. Let me help you.”

Bucky closes his eyes and counts to twenty. When he opens them again, Steve’s still there, waiting. Bucky reaches out and cups his face.

Steve presses into it. “Sir,” he whispers, eyes lowered.

Bucky feels so guilty at that, even as he can feel his blood pressure lowering from the small display of subservience. “I love you,” he says.

Steve smiles softly and squeezes his hands over Bucky’s knees. “I know.”

Bucky sighs. He releases Steve and slumps back into the couch cushions, feeling like the biggest burden. “I should call and book someone,” he says. Steve’s not a submissive and he shouldn’t have to play that role just to fulfill Bucky’s medical needs. Linda’s helped him come to terms with that over the years. Steve, the self-sacrificing punk, would do it anyway, but Bucky knows when he needs to ask for outside help. “Nathan can usually take me last minute.” Steve nods and stands up, brings Bucky his cellphone to make the call. He sits on the couch with him and pulls Bucky to lie with his head in his lap as he calls the Center and makes an appointment. “Okay,” he says when he’s done, tossing the phone aside. “Six-thirty. He’s coming in after hours just for little old me.”

“Good.”

Bucky’s eyes cut sideways towards the bedroom hallway. Their plans for the night are ruined, and if he didn’t have himself to deal with right now, he’d be hard pressed to keep himself from going in Mary’s room, trying to scold her. “What about her?” he asks glumly.

Steve snorts. “Little miss drunk? She’s probably passed out. Don’t worry about it. Besides,” he runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair.  “Can’t reason with someone when they’re like that. Discussion, punishment, scening? That’ll all have to wait until tomorrow, at least.”

Bucky makes a face and tries not to let his dominance start spiraling out of control again. “She’s going to AA.” Steve hums, and when Bucky looks up and catches his expression, Steve looks like he’s worrying for his safety. “Tomorrow,” he insists, obstinate. “I’ll take the day from work if I have to. Drag her there myself.”

“Maybe no dragging."

"Steve,"

"Linda first,” Steve suggests gently. “That’s a better first step, hm?” Bucky grunts, grumpy about it but knowing Steve’s right. He nods, and Steve runs kind hands through his hair. “Okay, good. That’s settled. Don’t have to think about it any more tonight.” He bends down and pecks a quick kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “So, six-thirty?”

“Mmhm.”

“An hour. … You want to help me get dinner started before you go?”

Bucky nods, turning and pressing his face into Steve’s lower belly, rubbing his cheek against his soft tee shirt and warm body. “Love you,” he mumbles, feeling sheepish from his outburst before. He knows it’s not his fault, but he still feels inordinately grateful to have Steve supporting him. “You ever get tired of all this drama?”

“Shuddup,” Steve chuckles.

“Mm. You should leave me for a normie." He’s got his eyes closed against Steve’s stomach, but feels the reproachful pinch on his neck. “Ow.”

“If I’d wanted a normie, I’d have married a normie,” Steve scolds. He pets over where he pinched. “And apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, cause I’ve got my sights set on another one’a you jerks. This is just a setback. We’ll let her sober up, you’ll go see the Pro, and then when everybody’s in the right frame of mind, we’ll deal with it. Now come on.” He pats Bucky on the back. “Mary's not the only one who can navigate a kitchen. I’ve got a recipe for chicken piccata we can try.”

Bucky sighs. He’s so fucking in love with Steve, and he’s never got any good way to say it. There's nothing. Wedding vows barely scratched the surface. “Okay,” he says, because what else is there to do but agree? Like most times, Bucky knows his more level-headed husband is right about this.

They get up and go into the kitchen to start pulling the ingredients for chicken piccata, and Bucky is able to keep his mouth shut for a full five minutes before his anxiety ratchets back up and he returns to haranguing Steve about confronting Mary—possibly later that night.

*Next chapter starts out IMMEDIATELY with the big confrontation and beginning of their romantic and sexual relationship, so I promise y'all won't have to wait much longer!

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Seraphim

Chapter Fourteen

Master List  |  Steve Rogers Master List  |  Seraphim Master List

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Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: fluff, smut, small angst

A/N:  Brought to you by Monday Wips on Patreon!

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