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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Dishonored

Title: Dishonored

Summary: You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace.

Pairing: Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader; Lord Barnes x Princess!Reader (no polyamory)

Warnings: heavy angst (I’m not joking), lies, manipulation, hurting people for revenge, implied loss of innocence, unwanted/unplanned pregnancy, Steve being the worst, sadness, hopelessness, desperation, suicidal tendency/suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, fluff, we stan Bucky in this story

Rating: Mature

Words: 2,7 k

Square filled for @anyfandomfluffbingo: Square 9: “I never loved you.”

Square filled for Lulu’s Winter Bingo 2022: Square 4: Winter

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: C3: Free space – Royal AU

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C2: Sharing body heat

Please heed the warnings for this story. It contains triggering content such as attempted suicide.

You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace.

How do you move on when your honor and grace get ripped away by the man who promised you love and devotion?

He lured you in – sweet-talked you into giving him the one thing you cherished the most. Your honor and innocence. Reserved for your future husband, and the man loving you unconditionally.

Lies. All lies.

It was a moment of weakness making you stumble and fall. Into his bed. Into his arms.

He took you apart, gentle, and slow. A miracle to you when you think about the aftermath.

A few months earlier, your father’s castle

“I can't believe Prince Steven came to woo me,” you mumbled to yourself. The prince arrived earlier this morning and you hoped your dreams would come true. You always felt a deep connection to the prince, and now, he’s here to talk to your father.

“Princess!” Your chambermaid scolded. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold! Your father called for you. He wants you to meet Prince Steven. He will stay at the castle for a few weeks until he travels to his uncle’s castle.”

Your face fell. He came here to sit out the approaching snowstorm, nothing else.

How could you have been foolish enough to believe he came to ask for your hand?

“I’m…coming,” you tried to not cry. All your hopes and dreams ended up on the ground - shattered and torn. “We cannot let our guest wait.”

“Father,” you stepped confidently toward your father to peck his cheek. He was always soft on you, and let you break a few rules. Especially when it came to etiquette. You’re his little thunderstorm, a wild child with a bright mind and softness that’s hard to find among royals. “I heard we have a guest.”

“He’ll be here in a minute,” the king softly said. He ran his hand over your hair and patted your head. “I need you on your best behavior. I angered the prince, and we don’t want him to tell his father the king about it.”

You wrinkled your forehead. “What? I don’t understand,” you whispered so no one could hear. Your father is one of the kindest people you know. How could he possibly anger the prince?

“Your Highness,” Steven walked inside the throne room, accompanied by his best friend, and confident Lord Barnes. The brunette watched you with interest while the prince’s eyes drifted toward your brother and his fiancé, Lady Margaret Carter. “I see the princess will join us for supper.”

“Your Highness,” you turned your attention toward the prince. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. It’s been too long.”

Steven eagerly took your offered hand to press a chaste kiss to the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for having me.”

“Lord Barnes,” you smiled at the brunette. Last time you saw him he was reading a book in the garden, chuckling at something he read. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay. The library is always open for you.”

“Princess,” Lord Barnes smiled wildly. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh…my…you are too kind, Lord Barnes,” you replied gracefully and batted your eyelashes. “It’s always a pleasure having you around.”

Supper was more than pleasant. Lord Barnes kept the conversation flowing while the prince watched you the whole time. He complimented you and raised his glass on your beauty and grace.

You were surprised. His eyes seemed to be glued to your brother and his fiancé. Out of a sudden Prince Steven turned his attention toward you. He even stopped his friend from talking to you.

Your cheeks heated up, and you felt warm when he placed his hand next to yours, subtly brushing your pinkie with his finger.

It was the first time he was so close, and you allowed yourself to bask in his attention for as long as it lasted.

The next days felt like a dream come true. Steven asked you to spend time with him and go for a walk in the gardens. For propriety's sake, a chaperon accompanied you and Steven. But you didn’t care at all.

The moments spent with the prince were the best of your life. He made you smile, and laugh and your heart flutter.

All that mattered to you was his smile, his soft blue eyes, and the way he looked at you. It was the same way your father looked at your father and your brother at his chosen bride.

“I wish these days will never end,” you dared to hope Steven would say the same.

He took you by surprise when he replied. “Even if they end,” he looked you deep in the eyes, leaning a little closer to whisper, “I’ll always come back to you."

The prince was about to press a soft kiss on your forehead when your chaperone stepped in.

“Your Highness, please do not forget you are wooing for a princess, not a wench. Remember your manners,” she tutted. “We should head back inside. It’s getting colder, and I can smell the snow.”

Marjorie, your chaperone was right. Winter came faster than expected, accompanied by a snowstorm that wouldn’t let up.

The whole country was suffering from the cold weather and the snow masses.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The snowstorm and unforgiving winter kept Steven and Lord Barnes from leaving your castle.

You didn’t mind. Most of the time you spend with Steven, chatting about his kingdom, childhood, and love.

Yes. Love.

You held hands, and when your chaperone wasn’t looking, he even stole kisses. Steven promised you that love is the most precious thing to protect in this world.

He played you well, you give him that.

Your heart couldn’t take being apart from Steven for a single moment. So, you gave him everything you had to offer, and what he was craving.

On one of these cold winter nights, you let him sneak into your bedroom, and take you to bed. He kissed you, and when he settled between your thighs you believed he would make you his wife and love you forever.

When it was over, he smirked, and his eyes grew cold. Your heart dropped as he hastily redressed. “Steven, what are you doing?”

“My plan went well, didn’t it?” He looked at you, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You grabbed the blanket to cover your body. The one he ruined with his touch.

“I don’t understand, Steven. My love. What has gotten into you? You said you love me.” You cried as he looked at you, wrinkling his nose at your disheveled state.

“I never loved you,” he coldly replied. “Your father forced the woman I love to marry your brother,” he sneered and curled his lips. “I stole his beloved daughter’s innocence. What will he do if he finds out you are carrying my bastard under your heart?”

“Steven, I don’t…” Your voice trembled. “Why? I…”

“I came here to ask your father to stop this insanity and let me marry Margaret. I love her dearly. He refused and wanted to send me away.”

You remember now. Your father told you that he upset Steven.

“But…she came here, begging my father to help her. She wanted to marry my brother. Margaret wasn’t my father’s first choice. Some princesses and ladies were more beautiful and with a better reputation. He agreed because she was in love with my brother and threatened to kill herself if he didn’t allow her to marry my brother.”

“What?” He looked a little shell-shocked at your words but shook his head. “Lies!” Steven yelled, making you flinch. “Shut your mouth, wench. Never talk about Margaret like that again.”

He left without looking back and slammed the door shut. Leaving you devasted, heartbroken, and ruined.

After that night, he never looked at you. He declared that he was going to stay at the guest wing until it was time to leave.

One month later, …

Hopelessness is the only thing left in your life. You can feel a new life growing in your womb. Every passing day brings you closer to doomsday.

Soon you won’t be able to hide the secret. Soon everyone will know you got dishonored.

Foolish girl letting a man take what should have never been his.

You run your hand over your belly, choking out another sob. If you want to save what’s left of your honor, you must take matters into your own hands.

Shakily you glance at the balcony parapet again. If you do it now, you can save your honor, and your father’s.

Stepping toward the parapet you release a shuddery breath.

What if it’s not high enough? What if you survive? What if they ask questions?

“No,” you step away from the parapet. This is the wrong way to go. You must let it look like an accident. Or maybe, if you can find someone selling you a potion, you can end your life painlessly and fast.

The river looked inviting to you. You looked at the floating water, fascinated by its power and grace.

Once upon a time, you were gracefully too.

That was until your grace and innocence got ripped away from you like it meant nothing to him. “If I step into the river, it will be over soon. Maybe they will believe it was an accident. I slipped and fell into the river.”

Slowly, you stepped toward the water, closing your eyes for a moment. This was the only way to save your honor. The water would wash away the sin you committed and take your secret with it.

You took another step, and another until you felt the cold water kiss your feet. “Cold.” You whispered but walked farther into the water, feeling it tug at your gown. “It will be over soon, my little stardust.” You rubbed your belly. “I’m so sorry.”

The water surrounded you, almost reaching your waistline as you heard someone call for you. “Princess! NO!”

It was Lord Barnes. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw you in the river. He knew something was wrong with the way his friend acted out of a sudden.

“Nooo!” You heard the water splashing and then, two strong arms wrapped around you like anchors holding you in this world. “What are you doing, princess.”

“I cannot…he dishonored me,” you choked out a heartbreaking sob. “I cannot remain. No man will want me. Not after he took my innocence and…the baby…it will be a bastard.”

Lord Barnes stiffened when the words floated out of your mouth like the water in the river. He couldn’t believe his friend and confidant would do such a thing to you for revenge.

“My love. No,” he dragged you out of the water, and wrapped you in his arms, letting you cry in his chest until there were no tears left in you. Lord Barnes said. “Stay with me, my love. I’ll keep you warm. We need to keep each other warm.”

“But I—” You lifted your head to look at him with tear-clouded eyes. “You should’ve let me die. Father will…”

“He won’t know. Not about what happened with Steven, nor what you did today. What a coincidence I came by when you slipped and fell into the river,” he whispered and kissed your temple. “I came back to ask for your hand, and to wed you in spring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his words. “I’m…ruined. You don’t want me, or my bastard child.”

“I will love it like my own, my love,” he kissed your cheek. “You are not ruined, princess. Only a little broken. But we can fix this. I got my heart broken once too. We will heal together.”

“My lord, the babe…it’s not yours…I can’t…you can’t.”

“It’s cold, let’s head back to the castle and get you warm. I’ll call for a healer…”

“Not a word about her condition except for the cold,” Lord Barnes warned the healer. “If you say a word about the other thing,” he patted his sword, “you won’t be able to spend all the gold you’ll get.”

“Not a word,” the healer nodded and walked back inside your room.

“Marry my daughter?” Your father eyed Lord Barnes warily. He came back a few days after Prince Steven and he left the castle. Alone, and with a grim expression. “But…what about the prince?”

“He’s a foolish man, my king,” Lord Barnes growled. “He lost his heart one too many times to a pretty face. I cherish your daughter, her grace, and her kindness. If you allow me to woo her, I’ll be forever grateful. I’m not a prince but love her dearly.”

“She admires you too,” the king replied. “She talked about you, and that you love to read as much as she does. If my daughter agrees, I’ll agree on your bond.”

Lord Barnes didn’t wait until spring to wed you. He insisted on marrying you within another month.

You watched him with sad eyes as he desperately tried to fix his friend’s mistake.

“Lord Barnes, you can still find a better bride,” you took his hand to press a soft kiss on his knuckles. “I’m thankful that you tried to save my honor, but I cannot make you miserable for the rest of your life.”

“My love,” he whispered. “I fell for you the first time we met. If only I knew about Steven’s plans, I wouldn’t have stepped back and let him woo for you.”

“It’s not your fault, only mine,” you sniffled, and wiped your eyes. “I wasn’t raised to become a wench. I decided to let him do this to me…”

“Y/N, you’re not a w-.” He shook his head. “Never use that word again,” he angrily said. “He was the one stealing the light from you. You’re still an innocent angel.”

“I know that I’m not,” you hid your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to let the mask you wear so well slip. “You’ll get damaged goods, my Lord.”

“Call me James, or Bucky, my love,” he gently rubbed your back. “I promise, you are far from damaged goods for me. You are going to be my wife and I’ll love you. And the babe will get all my love too. They are going to mine.”

“What a beautiful pair, don’t you think?” Your mother asked. “She looks happy, my love.”

Your father smiled wildly as he watched you and your groom share the first dance. You smiled and laughed as Bucky twirled you around.

“I was worried about our daughter for a while. Prince Steven’s departure left her heartbroken,” the king held out his hand for his wife. “Let us join them and celebrate their union.”

The queen smiled and took your father’s offered hand. She didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

A mother always knows when her child is in need.

She will never break her promise to herself and tell her husband that she saw you at the river when Lord Barnes saved you, or that she heard what you confessed.

“He is a good man, my love,” the queen whispered. “Our beloved daughter couldn't find a better man.”

While everyone celebrated your wedding and danced, Steven stood in a corner, watching you and his best friend happy together.

He squared his jaw and balled his hands into fists. His heart dropped watching Margaret and your brother join you on the dance floor.

Everything he did was in vain…

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers angst #bucky barnes #buckybarnesbingo2023 #steverogersbingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #prince!steve rogers #royal!bucky barnes #royal au #angst #tw: attempted suicide

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 4 months ago

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Our Lost Girl, Our Babydoll - Part 1

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: A bookshop and a spilled coffee leads you to Clint. He leads you to Natasha, and you lead them both to your best friend Darcy. They try to introduce you to Bucky and Steve but you're full of excuses and Irish goodbyes. Until Bucky catches your scent on Natasha and he's sliding in your DM's and offering to help pack up Darcy's apartment. Steve wants to give their bookworm the world and your Irish goodbyes won't slip passed him, because his eyes never leave you. But what's giving you the lost look in your eyes?

Chapter Summary: You're officially late for moving day and Bucky's concerned. Natasha might punch him if he keeps pacing.

You're late. You know it. Darcy and her new pack know it. Bucky 100% knows it and Natasha is going to punch him if paces anymore.

"Barnes, will you knock it off." She snapped, already frazzled by Clint's wandering hands and Darcy's want for everything to be packed a certain way.

"Aren't you worried? You're omega friend is late, she's not picking up her phone and you don't seem to care." He snapped back.

Natasha marched over to him, backing him into the corner of Darcy's tiny apartment kitchen. She took her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, unlocked it and pushed it into his face. Your location on showing on her phone and moving in their direction.

"I know exactly where she is and why she's late. Do you really think I don't care about where my mate's best friend is?"

Bucky held his hands up in surrender as Natasha stepped away. Steve, quiet in the corner, smiled at his pack brother.

"Shut it Steven."

"Ow, full name. I didn't even say anything." He smirked.

"You didn't have to."

"You know it's cute you're this excited. I've not seen you like this since...."

"I'm not cute." Bucky growled, "and it's alright for you! You got to meet her already!"

"I did and she, well, she's cute, smart and sexy as hell all at the same time, and she smells...."

"I swear to god if you carry on, I'll break your legs and throw you in a damn alley." Bucky growled.

Steve laughed in response.

Both were stopped abruptly by the ringing of the doorbell.

Let me know in the comments if you want to go on the tag list!!!

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

#avengers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #alpha steve rogers #alpha steve rogers x reader #alpha steve rogers x omega reader #avengers #alpha steve rogers x omega reader x alpha bucky barnes #alpha bucky barnes x reader #alpha bucky barnes x omega reader

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anika-ann · 1 year ago

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Pomiluj me (Love Me Tender) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; standalone (NOT a part of this medieval AU)

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 10k 😁 best possible division if needed is at the first divider

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers and his brothers in arms are returning home after having tackled an unruly creature terrorizing the people of Starkerbürg. Upon encountering an injured woman, Steven offers to bring her – carry her, truly – back to her home. How could he deserve a knighthood if he left a woman in distress to her fate, after all?

But not everything it as it seems. And love blooms in the most unlikely of places.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, tons of fluff, himbo knights in BBC Merlin style (long live the legends), knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Title from the song which inspired the story, Pomiluj mě (Love on Me/Love Me Tender)...tumblr cannot handle an “ě “in their title 🙃 Lyrics, translation and link here, you’ll find a few lines in the fic as well - truly recommend. DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics

A/N/2: AO3 says this is my 100th work (as posted here anyway) and I’m brushing 1,680k of words written according to the counter. Which… whoa. And it’s almost six years since I first posted a marvel fic 🥺 Enjoy!

Alone, you only wander in the dark Chased by the cold I shall light up the torch you’re guarding

Should I be worried about you That all you do is take When are you coming back to me?

The cavalry moved rather slowly.

The noble men appeared a far cry from the polished image known from books, even as they had attempted to wash in a river. They reeked of battle, smoke and blood still; and the drying blood in their wounds was just as red as that of ordinary men, the scent of sweat and fear having seeped into their clothes and armour. And yet, their vests carried the sigil of Starkerbürg with pride, signaling the knights’ dedication to the protection of their kingdom.

With only horse left, they truly might make a pitiful sight, certain weariness to their step; but an air of victory and camaraderie made for a picture of life instead. Laughter sounded between the group, a joke thrown around here and there, a tease about a wound each of them suffered, particularly the youngest one. Despite those, true concern for their new friend, Sir Parker, could be read in their eyes. He was the youngest to ever been dubbed in the history of Starkerbürg; it was no wonder the good men assigned him the role he would have played had the bond they shared been one of a blood family. The youngest of brothers was as much made fun of as protected, since he was eager to prove he deserved the honour to ride with the knights of Starkerbürg just like any other. Now he sat on the horse in front of Sir Barton, the eldest, as they made their way back after successfully ridding the kingdom of a horrific creature: the chimera had been believed to only exist in old tales until it brought terrible and painfully real suffering to the people of the west of the kingdom and so the king’s loyal servants were tasked to ride at dawn five days ago.

“Alright, alright, let us leave the poor lad,” Sir Barton said, patting the young Sir Parker on his shoulder a little too hard. “He shall do better next time.”

Peter smiled over his shoulder gratefully, having started to feel not humbled, but humiliated.

“Yes, yes, we should let him be,” Sir Maximoff agreed, side-eyeing the two riders mischievously. “We should talk about how you moved like an old lady.”

The collective ooooooh and chuckles might have as well come from a group of children, rather than grown men, causing Sir Barton to glare at the cheeky lad he called a friend.

“Old ladies are wise and worth of respect, Maximoff. You could learn a thing or two from them, as you had learned from me,” he scoffed, feigning offence. “Do not forget who taught you how to swing a sword, kiddo.”

“There is a point in what Clint is saying,” Sir Wilson hummed good-naturedly, raising his eyebrow at Pietro in challenge.

“Maybe. Does not change the fact he’s grown seven years older since then, while I have grown seven years more mature.”

The explosion of laughter following his statement was louder this time.

“In your dreams, maybe,” Sir Barnes snorted, elbowing his best of friends, Sir Rogers. “About as mature as this one was when he used to pick his battles with guys twice his size, eh?”

Sir Rogers, Steven to most, only smirked, speaking up for the first time in a while, since his thoughts were far far away. “Should we get technical, we all took up on an enemy twice our size only yesterday morning.”

“Oh?” Sir Barton feigned surprise. “Listen to the guy. He might tell you what brought the monster to its knees next – an arrow straight to its eye. Remind me, Maximoff, whose crossbow it was that fired it?” he asked pointedly, grinning down at the man walking by their horse, earning an eyeroll.

“Did it even have knees?” Sir Lang questioned, “All I know is that it was a nasty, nasty thing.”

“Nastier than Hydra? Cut off one had, two shall takes its place? I truly believed that was only a legend…” Sir Wilson said, a visible shiver of disgust shaking him.

“Not sure we can compare the two… maybe Barnes or Rogers could, huh?” Sir Maximoff suggested.

Steven’s face darkened; he did indeed remember the hydra creature very well for it nearly cost his best friend his arm. The scars still littered Bucky’s skin, from the back of his hand all the way up to his shoulder; Gods had blessed him enough that his ability to use his arm remained intact, even as its appearance did not.

As for the strange chimera they had slayed yesterday… it was true that Steven had gotten more familiar with it then he would have liked. He could recall it with uncomfortable clarity: its foul breath smelling of death on his face, feeling as if it had seeped deep into his very bones when he had finally thrusted his sword through its heart. He could still hear the clang of teeth near his neck, a near death sentence.

No, he would rather not compare the two. He would rather not think of either of the creatures at all.

“Why us, Maximoff? Because I nearly lost my arm to the former and my best friend to latter? No thanks,” Sir Barnes hissed, face turning ashen as well.

Steven instinctively reached for his friend, squeezing his arm, casting a concerned glance as he was torn away from his own dark memories.

“Buck…”

“Are you jesting? Sir Rogers was incredible,” Sir Parker cried out excitedly, having four of the knights groan, for Steven’s bravery – or idiocy, should anyone ask Sir Barnes, truly – was all the youngest knight had been talking about for the majority of their journey, causing Steven’s cheeks redden under his beard, sense of pride and satisfaction battling the terror of the memory. As for the remaining knights, well; while they did not diminish Steven’s important contribution of delivering the fatal blow, they had grown annoyed at the constant babble.

“Sure he was, kiddo.”

“Oh yes. They should probably knight him. Oh wait-“ Sir Wilson said, causing the men to laugh.

“Yeah, a set of deadly teeth perhaps three inches from his throat? Let him have all the glory and Princess Morgana’s hand too,” Sir Barnes grumbled, sending his friend both a proud and irked glance.

A sudden rustle of leaves and a woman’s yelp followed by a thud caused them all fall silent and turnbattle-ready in a split second, snapping in the direction of noise.

However, there was little need for caution. Their intruder barely appeared dangerous: the peasant woman observed them with wide eyes and forehead scrunched in pain, blossoms of common elder, spilled all around her like precious silks of a gown instead of the worn fabric of the simple shirt, shawl and ankle-length skirt, speaking thousand words of what she had been doing until she had fallen. Her fingers were clutching at her left foot, a clear sign of her ungraceful landing. The tree was by no means tall, but that should not mean the fall was what they could call comfortable.

For a moment, the group of knights stood frozen, rendered speechless as much as the poor woman who found herself face to face with not one but seven of the crown’s most loyal servants.

Steven, perhaps the kindest of them all, was the first to snap from the shock of an unexpected disturbance of their journey, releasing the grip on his sword, never having drawn it from its sheath. He took several long strides to the young woman, instantly capturing her attention.

“My lady, are you quite alright?” Steven inquired, gently as he realized his large frame, accentuated by his armour, might intimidate the poor sweetling.

And yet. Just as the question left his lips and his gaze met hers, he was the one rendered mute all of sudden.

Steven had never seen anyone more clearly, he was certain; and just as sure he was of the fact that no woman could ever hope to encompass sincerity and beauty in her eyes only as the one he was facing at the moment.

Her smile was but a shy little thing, pain masked by gratitude for the knight’s care. He was a handsome one, of robust built but with delicate lines to his face, bright blue irises with a speckle of green, plush lips framed by a short beard; distantly, she imagined his wide shoulders would barely fit the doorframe of her cabin – of her hut, truly. She found the imagery enticing, almost as much as the gentle tone he had spoken with despite his giant frame.

“’Quite aright’ seems accurate, sir. I am not hurting much beyond my left ankle,” she admitted, even as her source of discomfort was evident from her hand still covering the affected area.

Steven’s brows furrowed slightly in worry, yet he made no move, spoke no words, even as his lips parted. Instead, his eyes roamed the woman’s face, searching and fascinated. It was the silence which prompted his comrades to enter the interaction.

“Do you think you can walk?” Sir Wilson asked as he stepped forward – a movement barely acknowledged as the woman did not shift her gaze from Steven still.

“Wobble, perhaps,” she said, the corners of her lips briefly turning downwards. “Could perhaps one of you assist me? I should be most grateful for your chivalry.”

Sir Barnes could scoff at the absurdity of her wording; even as she suggested she would welcome anyone’s aid, her fixation on Steven was ridiculously evident. It almost scared him, how steadily she watched him; even as ladies’ interest in his best friend’s company had increased significantly along with how Steven’s muscles had grown, the way this woman observed him… unsettling him for some reason.

“Oh! We should borrow you the horse for a while-“ Sir Parker – bless him, the youngest and the purest of heart of them all – cried out, soon silenced by a more sombre voice of reason of Sir Barnes.

“Kid, you lose your leg should you put your weight on it now. Believe me, I have almost lost my arm to the same foolishness.”

“…oh.”

“Well, I suppose one of us should support you and walk you to your home,” Sir Barton suggested nonchalantly, preparing to dismount the horse. “The most experienced one of us, perhaps?”

“Truly? Is that so, Clinton?” Sir Wilson questioned as he eyed him, his tone carrying wryness of a man who would not care for nonsense – unless it was one that could earn him a great deal of fun. “Why you?”

“I have a pair of very well-working eyes for one,” the older man uttered, causing sir Maximoff to snicker silently.

“So do I and yet I would never offer!” Sir Lang opposed as soon as he understood the meanings behind Sir Barton’s words. “Must we remind you how inappropriate that would be, since you have a lovely wife and three kids at home?”

“And a knee that knows a rain is coming at least two sunsets ahead?” Sir Barnes added for honestly, the foolishness of Sir Barton’s idea battled the one of the youngling’s.

“Ugh, alright then. Spoilsports.”

Sir Maximoff, unsurprisingly, grinned and shrugged as he stepped forward. “Ah, well, fellas, it seems-“

“I can do it. I can even carry her.”

Sir Barnes sighed, an involuntary reaction to best of comrades choosing this moment to snap from his reverie. Speaking of foolishness.

Not once had Steven’s gaze left the beautiful woman since the very moment he had laid his eyes on her, almost as if he was drawn by ancient power whose pull not even his virtuous heart could resist. The pull had been literal too; while the movements had been subtle, step by step Steven inched closer to the woman, now standing barely three feet from her, way too close even as he had been the first to spring forward.

Sir Barnes would be amazed and certainly more than amused at his friend’s antics, had it not been for the fact the scene was as fascinating as disconcerting. For a myriad of reasons. Beginning with-

“You are injured as well,” Sir Wilson noted pointedly.

Sir Wilson appeared to be the only of the men aside from Sir Barnes who had not lost all reason in the midst of all of them having acquired an expression of awe and smugness. In all fairness, the reaction of the knights was nothing short of understandable, for Steven, Sir Rogers, who had kept from many women who had been rather literally battling for his attention, seemed enamoured all of sudden. And of all creatures, enamoured by a beautiful, yet the most ordinary of women. He appeared if not utterly lost to the fabled love at first sight, then certainly lost enough to abandon all reason.

“Oh no, if you are severely injured, I could not possibly-“ the woman resisted, gathering her skirt in attempt to stand up as if to prove she was considerably less inconvenienced by absence of aid than it had originally appeared.

Naturally, her efforts were doomed to failure – and just as naturally, Steve had been there to catch her, promptly supporting her weight. She had barely caught herself, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his bicep, lips parted in silent surprise; and much to the amusement of all knights, in awe of his strength.

Sir Rogers was certainly not the only one of the pair who appeared smitten.

“Thank you, good Sir.”

“Sir Steven Rogers, my lady. I should be happy to aid you,” he pronounced, the words ‘with anything’ unsaid but clearly implied as he helped her straighten up as much as her own injury allowed. “I have not been injured severely. Worry not.”

Needless to say, Sir Barnes would argue; bruised ribs, several cuts, more so when one of them sat right above his brow, should be considered severe enough not to carry a woman in his arms… particularly when these injuries were coupled with a heavy blow to the head. Before, Sir Barnes had not been sure how strong of a hit Steven had taken, but now, seeing how absent of any common sense Steven was-

Ah. His best friend was being quite himself, now that Sir Barnes thought of it.

“…so we are to ignore there are at least three better candidates whose ribs are not bruised or-“ Peter muttered in low voice to his companions, all but earning a warning slap to his healthy leg as Sir Lang gently shushed him, himself charmed by the romantic ballad-worthy scene in front of them.

“Seeing as she does, I suppose we do too,” Sir Maximoff scoffed lowly, tilting his head to side as he observed his comrade, suddenly frowning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And so does he. Is he alright? He looks… strange. Has any of you put something in his water?”

“You are saying this as if you were not as miffed about him being chosen by her as I am,” Sir Barton huffed, sourness turning into humour at the other man’s misery.

Pietro’s gaze torn away from the pair, their downright love-sick gazes suddenly difficult to watch; it almost felt as if by looking at them, they were prying on an intimate moment. Pietro thought it curious, for he had never had any issues of laughing loud at the displays of affection his fellow knights had offered in the Tower tavern for everyone to see, but he did not want to examine it too hard. He could find joy elsewhere once they had made it to the city, with no shortage of ladies no doubt willing to offer comfort to the heroes of Starkerbürg.

“He is one lucky bastard,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck, preparing to take off.

“And lucky he might get…” Sir Wilson sing-sang quietly, causing the group to laugh as their gazes once again appreciated the almost palpable spark between the unlikely couple, exchanging knowing glances as the woman gasped when Steven sneaked his arms under her knees and back, lifting her into his arms with ease despite his gear weighting him down.

“Alright, it is settled. We are certain you are safe with Sir Rogers…” Sir Barton called out, entirely ignored by the pair who instead kept observing one another without as much as a blink, as if they could not bear losing even a fraction of the precious time they were given. “For he is-- they are not even listening to me, are they? No one cares about me anymore, I truly must be getting old-”

Sir Barnes sighed again, realization dawning to him; one he should never share with his companions, but one he would for certain inquire about later when Steven returned to the castle.

“We shall move then,” he muttered, beckoning others towards the road, not before sparing the couple a last slightly disapproving glance.

He feared not for his most precious friend’s safety; he only feared for his heart, too big even for the impressive size his body had grown into since his early days as a weakling. At the moment, it was his mind Bucky feared for, since it almost seemed feeble under a spell of a beautiful woman. A spell no one dared to break.

As the group walked away, each of their steps was uncharacteristically silent; until they believed to reach enough of a distance to have a boisterous laugh about Sir Rogers no doubt to be rewarded for his chivalry. The sound bothered not the pair as they smiled at each other softly, the woman’s thumb brushing over Steven’s sternum, covered by worn chainmail.

The simple touch seemed to reach his soul; his breathing, having already eased since he had first caught her, cleared completely, the ache in his bones gone. The woman’s smile widened, silently prompting Steven to start walking. He was not one to hesitate, his feet moving almost of their own volition.

“You are not obliged to carry me,” she said, a teasing note lacing her gentle voice. “I slowed the landing enough. It is nothing but a bruise.”

Steven shook his head, appearing as if he was barely holding back a grin. “But I must, my lady. It is my duty as a knight of Starkerbürg.”

She pursed her lips, one corner lifting in a smirk.

“Oh? Is it so, my good sir? Hm... speaking of knights of Starkerbürg, Sir Rogers,” she emphasized, a playful spark appearing in her eye, “your friends act like children.”

Undignified for a knight for certain – yet who was he to diminish the already scraped reputation of men who truly unsubtly jested about him taking advantage of the very woman in distress he was to help – Steven snorted.

“Don’t I know it.”

“But Samuel might not be wrong…“ she said, voice equally full of amusement and promise. “Set me down, Steven. You must be tired.”

Tired he was not. Not ever since he had met the woman’s eyes moments ago and recognized their beauty and depth as familiar. But who was he to deny a lady?

And a lady she was, for all she was and was not. They might have jested about it together, but in Steven’s mind, she was precisely that and nothing less, no matter what any half-wit of this kingdom would think. Slowly, he lowered her back to her feet, his heart thundering in his ribcage in anticipation as he focused on the sounds surrounding them.

Content with only gentle whisper of the wind and songs of robins for a company, his worn hands cradled the woman’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, heart trembling when she leaned into his touch, her lips brushing his palm.

In return, the tips of her fingers ghosted over his brow, the nasty cut closing at once, without a single sting of pain. She focused on that aspect often, even as she knew he would try and not as much as flinch for her benefit, much like he had not when she healed his ribs earlier.

“Thank you. They must be far enough now, I am sure,” he whispered, stepping closer so their bodies aligned and nearly merged in one. “Do not hide from me, bosorka moja. Let me see you, beautiful.”

Her smile turned a little coy, even as her soul sang at his sweet words. Steven was quite a master of compliments; but not a shameless flirt or a rake. What he said always came from heart; that beautiful, beautiful heart he had sworn belonged to her and never made her question it despite their situation.

“As you wish, good sir,” she whispered, fingertips sliding down his cheekbone, repairing the darkening bruising in their wake, before she turned focus on her own transformation. “Close your eyes, love, release me for just a moment.”

With a sigh of disappointment – but eager to oblige – Steven lifted his hands an inch, missing the lovely heat under his touch at once, and let his eyes slide close. Soft light caressed his skin, flickering behind his closed eyelids as her features shifted, her cloaking spell dispersing.

Steven did not fight the smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to open his eyes again just as the glow was dying out, welcomed by the sight of his beloved in her true face. The spell she had casted changed her features but a bit, only enough to protect her from those who would still hunt her upon mere suspicion of her being a magical creature. She appeared just as human as before; but should a half-wit still nursing grudges against magic even century and half since its dark side caused people to suffer ever recognize her as anything else… Steven did not wish to imagine what hell would have been raised; even as it would have been one he would fight to death against.

Indeed, she appeared human even in her true form to most, Steven assumed. Yet, to him, she appeared almost ethereal; she always had. From the very moment she had walked into his life and took his world by gentle storm, slowly nursing him back to health day by day from multiple wounds which would have been his doom. She had risked her own life in process, revealing her talents to anyone, let alone a knight of Starkerbürg, but for a good deed, she had barely even hesitated.

Beautiful, powerful, brave and endlessly kind; and now, by the blessing of gods, even as Steven failed to be a proper gentleman, his.

He let his fingers slide into her hair, tilting her face up to feast his eyes on her features, heart humming pleasantly as only a person who owned it could make it hum.

It was clearer than the skies that she felt just the same. Drawing him close, not waiting for his prompting, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers, sweet and healing. No cut was there for her to fix, but it appeared that whenever she kissed him, even with no magic involved as she had claimed, Steven’s often weary soul was lifted.

He followed her lips, earning a hearty chuckle but no protest, a hand on his nape as her fingers curled in his hair as well.

“Bosorka moja,” he said softly against her lips before tasting them again, greedy for every stolen moment, every stolen kiss she was willing to give him.

And she would give him a lifetime, much like he would give his own to her.

But there was not a single reason to do it right where they stood. One more peck to his lips and she escaped his arms sneakily, only to grab at his hand with both of hers, tugging him down the now familiar path.

“Come, rytier moj.”

And so he followed her, without a word of protest. He would follow his heart anywhere.

Their destination was by no means far, they were in no rush. Unbeknownst to Sir Barnes, his thoughts had been precisely on point – the pair of lovers cherished every moment spent together, may it be walking with purpose or wandering.

This day, they chose the former, the hut soon appearing in a barely-there clearing among the trees. Steve’s lips curled in a smile on instinct as despite the humble outside state of the tiny house, he knew what he would find upon entering with his love and lover by his side. A home. Not only hers; theirs. A safe space for their love.

As soon as they entered, the air smelling of herbs and dried meadow flowers, ones he had picked and gifted her the last time he had escaped his knight-bound duties, hit his nostrils and widened his smile. It was met with her own, soft and welcoming, heartbreakingly beautiful; ache echoed in his heart, its emptiness present for the past few days without her suddenly dissolving into nothing.

He brought her hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, so they could begin their routine.

From the mountains Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay your armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

Wind from the mountains

Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay my armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

You made your way to the pot, a simple curl of your wrist lighting up a fire to heat the water for tea. Steven’s gaze followed you as he stood by the door, blindly unclasping his belt, putting away his sword and chainmail. He had no need for weapons nor armour in his home; vulnerability in this house was no sign of weakness, but one of strength. It was a privilege he took upon proudly as you were blissfully aware.

Then, you ruminated through your dried herbs in search of chamomile and lavender, even as you knew the exact placement of every single item; once you heard Steven lose his armour and step forward, you looked over your shoulder, offering an unassuming smile – despite assuming quite a lot from the many encounters you had shared before.

“Tea, my love?”

Like clockwork, like the most beautiful habit, you barely got the chance to speak the question before he stood behind you, fingers cradling your chin, angling your head further to meet your lips again, an indulgent smile tasting indulgent smile as neither of you ever believed a tea was to be served. Not yet at least.

Where your first shared kiss after days of being apart tasted of longing, relief and soft smiles, this one tasted of feelings much more primal. Your breath hitched in the briefest surprise at the intensity, yet you responded in earnest, shifting to accommodate his large body, your hands finding purchase of his broad shoulders as soon as you spun around. He rewarded your cooperation with enthusiasm; you yielded to his force with a breathy laugh once he allowed you to retrieve the air he so lovingly stole from your lungs.

“No tea then?”

A hand previously grasping at your hips wrapped around your back to pull you to his chest, three steps leading you to walk backwards until your back brushed the makeshift table, Steven’s lips as urgent as sweet, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin, each breath tickling your lips.

“Would rather drink from your lips, love,” he whispered to your mouth, the only chance for both of you to breathe in before his lips returned. His hold tightened to ground you against his advances, trapping you in a cage of love you could have easily escaped should you wish; yet, you only withdrew for a moment, a cheeky retort on your tongue as your need for him grew with every touch.

“That could be arranged, I believe.”

Glancing up, you were met with his darkened eyes, his hand firm as he held onto your jaw; and yet, his thumb caressed your skin gently, the desire blending into softness and amusement at your bold demeanour. You lifted one corner of your lips in a smirk, gasping when his mouth possessed yours again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, his arm still holding onto your waist – the only thing keeping you from practically laying on the table, his hips pining yours against the hard surface, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Now there was a thought; Steve’s weight rendering you weightless as he’d coax peak after peak from your body laid on the dark wood as an offering to Gods at an altar…

The very thought, however, was fast to dissolve as Steven’s hips rocked into yours, allowing you to feel the outline of his burning need, having you clutch at his shirt as friction teased your throbbing core. He swallowed the needy noise he elicited from your lips, fingers slipping under your shirt, thumb pressing into your skin just above your hipbone as to guide your movements.

You shuddered upon his lips travelling down the column of your throat, teeth grazing skin alongside the hem of your shirt above your collarbone; your hands began their own quest over the hard planes of his body, appreciative of his truly impressive physique. Steven’s fingers roamed as well, caressing and squeezing, your given name but a breathy whisper when his fingertips stroked the underside of your breasts.

You nearly missed his words due to the blissful sensation, but you had heard the silent plea spoken so many times before there was no mistaking it.

“Dance for me, my love?”

Your swollen lips curled in a playful smile as his fingers carded through your hair, kiss brushing your cheek and jaw and finally your mouth again.

“Oh? Is that what you wish for, lover mine?”

His gaze followed the patterns his fingertips whispered over your face as if they were brushes painting the most precious canvas, a curious contradiction to his eager kisses and hardness.

“Would you hold it against me?” he inquired in a hushed voice, stealing yet another kiss from your waiting lips, his nose gently caressing yours before his gaze bore into yours with intensity again, “that I wish to see something so beautiful and so alive after a battle?”

The amusement slipped from your face, features softening as your heart sored at the subtle confession. The knights of Starkerbürg were full of jest and gestures so great they might border on insanity when situation allowed it. Their bravery was a thing of legends, as much of a legend as the thing you knew they had gone to fight days ago and were only now returning, having bested a mythical creature much more vicious and deadly than yourself, crushing life with not more than one bite to a man’s flesh.

Yet, for all their heroism, even knights, even the most precious of them all – even your Steven – felt the disarming fear of death itself, cruel and all too powerful. You would be always be more than willing to remind him of the power of life for a change, until you’d release yours with your last breath.

Ad so the answer was no – no, you would not hold it against him, whatever he would ask. Never him.

Standing on your tiptoes, framing his face with your hands, his whiskers and already messy hair ticking your palms, you told him as much, sealing your deal with a kiss.

Easing his grip, he allowed you to push against chest, easily giving in as you lead him to walk backwards until his calves hit the frame of your bed. He sat down obediently and you leaned into him, stealing another brief peck.

“Please, bosorka moja,” he pleaded once more as your forehead touched his, taking a moment to breathe him in, reminding yourself that both you indeed were still alive; and thus, such victory should be celebrated with joys life itself provided. “Dance for me, my love.”

Smiling, you placed a finger over his lips to shush him at last, gliding several steps back, mischief appearing in your eyes as his own followed your every movement hungrily, more so when you slipped out of your shawl, the shirt far from brushing the waist of the skirt suddenly hanging low on your hips, providing Steve with a silver of skin of your stomach.

There was no music but the howl of the wind carrying the occasional note by chaffinches and dunnocks and rustles of leaves. Yet, an old old melody echoed in your heart, guiding your movements and filling you with power and confidence of all witches that came before you and enchanted men into giving away their kingdom without as much as a fleeting thought, surrendering their strength and their hearts, all that only to be blessed with a single sinful glance, a single touch of magic as old as humanity itself. For a single drop of passion.

You could feel it fill the air, the longing and thirst for life and body, your lover’s eyes turning dark, hypnotized by the simple swirls of your wrists above your head, at your sides, following every slide of the back of your hands over your ribs, over your bare skin, his visceral need to replace your touch with his own. Drinking in but the smallest motions of your hips, breath hitching at the briefest tilt of your head back or to side, his lips tingling to attach themselves to the exposed skin of your throat, to taste, to suck a bruise. The force with which his fists curled into themselves seemed to ignite sparkles in the air, bringing a sensual smile to your lips as you let your eyes slip shut, feeling the energy hum louder when you moved closer; a sweet thunder within you, within Steve, all around you.

The thud of Steve’s knees on the floor came with his hands grasping your hips; needy but not firm, only to feel the slow movements of your hips and allow you to continue swinging freely. You released a breath, head tipping backwards as Steve’s hot lips found the now burning skin of your stomach, nosing his way up an inch at a time, beard tickling, an open-mouthed kiss following and causing you to shudder – with pleasure, with overwhelming power.

“Steven-“

“Keep dancing, bosorka moja,” he hummed into your skin with a pleased smile, teeth grazing over your belly button as if to distract you from his rough but deft fingers slipping under the waist on your skirt, inching it lower and lower until it hit the floor. Cold air brushed over your bare core, Steven’s lips trailing to the junction of your thigh, his smile growing wicked. “I shall help you dance.”

The very first flicker of his tongue over your pearl had you stutter in your movements, a whimper leaving your lips as Steven’s fingers dug deep into your flesh of your sides and thighs, a wordless warning not to cease the dance he had pleaded for. With a shudder of a breath, you willed yourself to continue, naturally rocking onto his hot tongue as it swept over your weeping core with indulgence, stars flashing behind your closed eyelids at the contrast of the slick muscle to the scrapes his beard left behind.

“Steven-“

“Shhh,” your lover whispered, the sound gentle and teasing at once, the pleasant vibration against your sensitive flesh causing your fingers to find way into his hair and grip, only earning another appreciative hum. “Keep dancing, love.”

And so you did. Leaning into the affection so willingly offered, you succumbed to a different kind of dance. Fingers flexing in Steven’s hair upon a particularly smart swirl of his tongue, breathless praise, calls to Gods and desperate pleas for more more more spilling from your lips. Meeting his ministrations without shame; guiding him, opening up for him as the liquid fire of pleasure spread through your veins, turning into an inferno when you found your thigh on his shoulder, completely out of your doing, an instinct to chase relief – but thoroughly appreciated as Steven’s arm circled your bottom, pulling you impossibly close and loving you deep enough to set you on fire entirely.

You let the primal hunger consume you as you climbed to your peak, crying out when you reached it, head spinning from the intensity; waves of bliss washed over you, body pliant and relaxed. You shrieked when you suddenly found yourself losing your footing, for a brief moment frustratingly empty and cold; and then you were spread on the table, your lover’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, burning blue gaze swallowed by lust firmly set on your face as two thick fingers entered you, latching onto the last aftershocks of your peak. You reached a second high with dizzying speed, unable to tear your gaze away from your giving – and so, so wicked – lover. Gods could possess you at that moment and you would have not felt as if you ascended to such heights as you had while indulging on Earthly pleasures with him.

A soft trail of kisses and pets soothed you as you came down, a breathless chuckle bleeding into a sob when you noticed few of your possessions floating in the air, your magic quite literally having exploded outside of you.

Steven’s lips curled into a smile against your jaw and then you were tasting your essence – as well his much-satisfied grin – on your tongue, revelling in the warm weight of his body covering yours. It seemed your Steven had a few magic tricks up his sleeve too, mind-reading being one of them. You smiled into the kiss, using your grip on his hair to pull him even closer. He could never be close enough; and as he stood between your spread legs, his hard bulge brushing against your bare core, his lips and hands eager, you were certain he felt just the same.

“So beautiful for me,” he whispered to your mouth before retreating, darkened eyes sparkling with lust and pride as well as affection.

“And yours,” you hummed, fingers raking through his beard appreciatively, chuckling when fresh hunger flashed in his pupils. Oh how possessive your knight could be… how much joy it brought you to tease him. “Should I show you?”

A breathy yes was your only answer and so you gripped his shirt, using the fabric for leverage to you sit up. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his garments, gliding over his stomach, your magic flowing freely and healing whichever injuries you had missed earlier.

Easily ridding him of his shirt and pants in between sweet encounters of lips and shedding your clothes as well, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a faint whisper of ‘bed’ enough to have him pick you up without protest; on contrary, with quite the enthusiasm since his hardness throbbed when you led him to sit down with you in his lap.

“Missed you… love you… need you,” you confessed, his breathy voice echoing your sentiments as your lips brushed over every patch of his skin in reach, fingers wrapping around him and guiding him inside you, bliss surrounding you both when you finally sank yourself down his length in one fluid movement.

You rested your forehead against his and simply breathed, living in the moment of utter bliss; a different kind, not the almost primitive one, no, not the wild one. This moment belonged to serenity. Sharing air and warmth with your lover, tender hands appreciating the wide planes of his muscles, strength radiating from flesh and soul alike. And love. Always love.

As if he was able to read your mind once more, his lips sought out yours, a declaration of love indeed, simple, honest and unyielding. His thumb gently traced the pattern of your tattoo, its ink reaching from behind your ear over the side on your neck, a swirl over your left collarbone and spreading over your shoulder. I love you as you are, for all you are, his touch whispered even as no sound left his lips. And even if you felt no shame for your nature, your Steven’s acceptance caressed your soul as did his diligence; not once he had forgotten his ritual of reminding you that with him, your existence was not merely tolerated – but adored and celebrated. When you first understood the significance of this habit of his, tears had stung your eyes, kissed away before they could roll down your cheeks.

“Ľúbim ťa,” you had breathed out then, a love confession in the old language, and ever since, you had not failed to say it once in response to his gesture.

Then, rough fingertips carefully followed the line of a fine silver chain carrying a tear-shaped indigo sapphire, a token of affection usually hidden from plain sight, protected; a promise of faithfulness even as you remained unwed. You had no need for gemstones, but you understood its importance, the significance of the gesture; it made for your heart warm and safe upon its possession and for Steven’s heart lighter a pound of the burden of your circumstance.

Your circumstance was not one of the simple ones, a forbidden love one might say; in which you were the only forbidden thing. Forbidden to even live, let alone love or be loved; an abomination to some. A magic wielder, no doubt seducing the most honourable with her dark powers, for what other reason could be there for him to take liking in you? It mattered not that there was less than a little true to it, that your bond was of much purer nature, as common and as human as the blood you drew from your own veins to cast protection spells over your beloved. True did not matter. Should you reveal your relationship now, Steven would have been painted a victim; and you would have lived no more.

An easy circumstance yours was not at all; but your dedication to each other was to conquer all troubles. And in the meantime, you shall have moments of serenity and of passion, of you and him.

The smallest shift of Steven’s hand pulled from your thoughts, breath hitching when his fingers slid an inch lower, brushing over your nipple. Your hips buckled on instinct, drawing a groan from your lover’s lips, a grip on your bottom encouraging you to move.

Who were you to deny pleasure to you both?

Smiling, you withdrew, index finger covering Steve’s lips as he tried to follow, a discontent furrow to his brow. You tilted your head, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.

“Would you like me to dance still, lover mine?” you inquired teasingly, his disapproval at your actions wiped away in an instant, replaced by fire in his eyes.

Gentle flames of affection battled those of desire, his warm palm caressing over your lower cheeks, before he snapped you impossibly close, causing you to gasp – and to question who it was who had the upper hand here. Your hand fell to his chest, his heart beating wildly under your palm, an answer of its own.

Both then. It seemed you were both on top and simultaneously under the other’s thumb. Such a beautiful thing.

“Would you, bosorka moja?”

Your smile grew, lips attaching to his once more and planning to remain for as long as possible, first careful rock of your hips the first step to reach for the stars – together this time.

“Oh Steven… for my honourable knight? For you, my love? With pleasure…”

An absent smile played on Steve’s lips, his fingers running up and down your arm, appreciating the softness and warmth of your skin. An air of comfort and contentedness hovered around you as he held you close, fast asleep in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest as if the very sound of his heart against your ear lulled you to peaceful slumber.

Despite the sweetness of the idea, Steve felt his brows furrow in concern. While as he was perfectly happy to serve as a pillow for his beautiful lover, aware there was barely any greater expression of trust than a shared sleep, worry seized him for this occurrence was beyond rare. He once asked whether your incredible magic was an effortless as you made it seem, met with a weary chuckle and a kind, if a little condescending smile and a confession that if seen weak, your kind would have been an easy prey. Having understood he had taken your answer as a testimony to the lack of trust you had laid in him, you had also admitted that while the teachings of your ancestors had been deeply ingrained in your instincts, part of your reluctance to show your weakness to him was precisely what weighted his conscience just now. You simply could not be bothered to make him fret too much.

The fact you had let sleep take you alone was truly worrisome and Steve pondered just how exhausted you must have been. Even as the fresh memory of your breathless pleas for more and the cries of pleasure as you rode him till you both tasted heaven were nothing short of precious to him, he could not but wonder whether he was taking too much; your magic healing his wounds, your body a sanctuary to his love and fears.

Perhaps he had. But who could ever blame him?

Steven had never known a woman like this – unafraid to give, just as unshy to take; one or the other, but never like this. He had fallen for you and had fallen hard, body and soul. Yes, should anyone call him selfish, they would not be wrong, because Gods, did he take what he craved and lusted – and yet. Yet, every moment with you felt ethereally right as your still unconscious form drifted closer, almost as if you sensed his thoughts and wished for them to evaporate. And so far, they always had, dissolved in your easy smile when you refused his offer and plea to come with him; to bring you to the castle with him so he could give as well, give more, provide and protect and worship you in his home, your new home, true home where you would not have to hide in the middle of the woods like some sort of an abomination.

It is not the time yet, my love. It will come, you would always say, washing away his guilt with a sweet kiss and a promise. One day. One day I shall come with you and we should be unabashedly happy with no fear, free to be you and me.

He had let your words and touch sooth him, always; but not today. Your body having melted into his had his protective instinct flare up, determination set in his very heart. He should convince you today, to make you his and him yours as two people in love deserved. He shall make an honest woman of you in the eyes of the whole kingdom at last. It was what you were worthy of, for you were worthy of anything and everything. And with you… he believed he deserved the same. He could not stand it anymore. Parting ways with you, only to hope for your next stolen moment to come the very minute after he had left. He could no longer bear you existing so close and yet so far out of his reach.

No, he shall convince you today, insist more than ever. He wanted this, he wished for nothing more than to lay to sleep like this every night, with you. You deserved it. You deserved the world and he shall lay it to your feet, for his honour and his benefit at once.

Any other day, you would have berated yourself for having fallen asleep; but knowing the changes your body was going through, weariness settling in sooner than it used to, it only brought a smile to your face when you found yourself waking to Steven’s tender fingers carding through your hair.

The night was slowly falling. Wandering the woods in darkness would have been an unnecessary risk for anyone, even for a skilled knight with your protective spell over him; your lover was more than aware of it and still, you could tell it pained him to bring you out of your slumber nevertheless. It was no feat to kiss his guilt away, smiles adorning your faces, noses caressing, hands wandering, nearly leading you back into the clutches of lust.

He sat patiently on your bed now, half dressed as you took your blade, his eyes following your every move with more attention than ever as he absently sipped chamomile tea; he found himself deep in thought, such was obvious. It was not difficult to guess where his mind had trailed off to, for it had always been the same.

His voice was soft when he spoke the words, a soft wrinkle on his forehead as your cut your finger and stood between his spread legs.

“Come with me.”

A sad smile played in the corner of your lips as your heart fluttered at his plea, one he never failed to deliver, even as your sigh must have sounded weary every time.

“I cannot. Not yet.”

Steven was no half-wit, which was more than could said about many of the people of Starkerbürg. He knew precisely why you could not come; why you never could, at least not yet. Magic was still forbidden – as if it was a choice, as if one could choose to stop breathing and still live – hated for the pain and destruction the dark twisted witches and sorcerers had once left in their wake, misusing magic to spread fear and suffering. It was not just that all magic wielders were still paying the price for what their ancestors had done. It was even less just that you, not having done any harm unless you needed to escape imminent danger to your life, should live a hermit life, too far from your love and lover. Yet it was how times were, still.

But you were no fool either. You could feel Steven’s uneasiness growing heavier every time he left without you, for it went against his very nature, against the need to keep you close, to hold you, to love – to protect you from harm. You had no doubt he would lay his life for you. You could not allow him to do that, not when the time was finally growing near for your love to be cherished as any other, time for your kind to be free. You must not lose him to rushed foolishness. He was no longer only yours to lose.

“I would protect you,” he promised, steely conviction in his husky voice.

As sweet as the sentiment was, you could not but smirk, a knowing gaze reminding him that should the situation require it, you could very well protect yourself, even as your true gift – the one special talent every magic wielder had, naturally developed with barely any practice – was of the healing kind. Should you truly wished, you could burn villages with terrifying ease; gods knew sorcerers and sorceresses had done this and more with a single snap of their fingers.

Steve took no offence in your teasing gaze; but the determination in his own remained unshaken as you begun to draw the protective symbol over his sternum.

“The time is yet come for people to understand the blessings of magic again, for its light to outshine the darkness it had sowed,” you reasoned, as much as it pained you. “The time shall come soon, I promise. It is simply not today, my love.”

Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, your gaze meeting the brilliant blue roaming over your face.

“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”

Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was not easy on you today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed. The right time would come. You were certain of it, even as it was nothing but a whisper of intuition in the back of your mind. Wait, the voice said, the time grows near, but you must wait.

“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded Steven, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”

You wiggled your fingers, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as you resumed your work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest feeling in your soul.

Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern. A triskele instead of a simple two-headed spiral. A symbol speaking more words than your knight could ever imagine in his wildest dreams, you supposed.

“It’s different.”

Shrugging, you withdrew your hand, calling to your magic to finish the ritual.

“You always draw two spirals connected…” Steve continued, eyes growing large and curious.

“I do”, you agreed softly.

He observed you, intrigued. He had once said he might not understand your power, but he swore he would always try. He would not dare to question your rituals, but you could almost feel how fast his thoughts whirled in a frantic search for an answer. The ritual had remained the same, always, countless times, over and over… why would you steer from it today of all days? What was its significance? What had changed?

Oh Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven… if he only knew.

“You always say it is about love. The unity of us. You and me,” he said slowly and you nodded, unable to contain your joy any longer, eyes surely glimmering.

“Yes. Our love, you and me. Unity of two.”

His eyes, roaming your face in silent question still, suddenly widened, flickering down and snapping back up as the realization dawned on him, leaving his lips slightly parted.

You simply shrugged, a chuckle shaking your chest, while guilt already began to gnaw at your conscience. You should have not told him, not yet. But how could you have kept it for yourself? How could you have denied yourself a little indulgence, even when knowing nothing could change just yet? You simply wished to see him learn your sweet secret, yours and his, even if for a moment, see he was equally elated.

Your knight did not disappoint you, not that you believed he ever could. His face was a perfect blend of shock and delight, radiating joy and hope and shame and sadness in equal amount as he stammered, shaky hand reaching out to carefully brush his fingers over your belly showing no signs of the treasure growing inside yet.

“You- are you—are we? Oh gods-“ And then, as you predicted, his expression shifted in an instant, determination taking deep root. “Then you must come with me. Allow me to take care of you, to-“

Satisfied and aching at once, you promptly shushed him with your still bloody finger to his lips. A single tear rolled down your cheek; a testimony to happiness, reassured anew of your lover’s goodness and dedication to you. To your family. The wonder, the glimmer of hope and the conviction in Steven’s expression would stay with you till you could grant him his wish.

“The time has not yet come, my love. I share your joy. And your worry,” you whispered through the tightness of your throat, even as a smile adorned your lips. Your finger drew a small cross over his mouth despite the pain it caused you. You had had your moment – and that had to be enough for now. “I am sorry, rytier moj. But you shall not remember this, not yet.”

Before he could as much as take a breath, you withdrew your hand, the symbols on his chest and lips disappearing with a soft glow. Disoriented, your knight blinked, steadying himself by the hand on your hip even as he remained seated.

With a shaky inhale you composed yourself before he could, leaning forward and planting a tender kiss on his lips, fingers raking through his hair. His hand cradled your jaw, adoring.

“Be careful,” you spoke against his lips, earning another small peck.

“Always.”

You retreated with a huff, shaking your head as you went to find an ointment you knew his friend would soon need.

“You speak as if I did not know you, Steven. A basilisk chimera’s teeth three inches from your throat, I heard? Careful indeed.”

His smile was sheepish as he rose to his full height, tying the top of his shirt before reaching for the garments you had so hastily rid him of earlier.

“I always try. The idea that should I fail, I shall never see you again… it can be quite a motivation,” he sweet-talked, succeeding just a bit in softening your exasperation.

Perhaps the vision of him dutifully putting on his armour, making his frame appear even larger – and protected – calmed you further.

“Well, Steven, try harder,” you snipped, pressing a tiny pot into his hand, earning a raised brow. “And take this to Peter, the wound on his leg was already turning foul. And this…”

You reached for a salve you had prepared for when a wave of nausea had taken you by surprise, dipped your finger in the dark substance and carefully patted it over Steven’s brow where his cut had been. You did not expect Steven to feel nauseous – after all he was not the one carrying a new life under his heart – but the colour was convenient. A cut healing so rapidly would have casted a dangerous suspicion on whoever he had interacted with – or worse, on Steven himself. You could not have that.

He observed you softly as you tended to him, adding a small tap where a bruise had begun to form earlier on his cheekbone. He did not utter a word until you were satisfied with your work. Once your hands fell to your sides, his own framed your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth again, a bittersweet goodbye.

“Always so meticulous and careful… always so good. Taking care of me, of my friends…” he mused, breathing you in one last time, hovering, hesitating more than usual. Almost, almost as if your spell had not worked and he still knew. As if he still knew precisely what he was leaving behind this time. “Take care of the person most precious to me too? Until I come back again?”

There might be two of those for you now, you thought, the memory of his delight flashing in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips as you nuzzled into his touch and kissed his palm.

Looking up at his face, you echoed his own reassurance. “Always.”

With one last kiss and hearts as heavy as light, you declared your love to each other. You walked him out quietly, watching him disappear between the trees, his gaze turning to you several times, always finding you standing at the doorstep of his true home, a tender smile on your lips.

Once he was out of sight, you released a sigh, hand settling over your belly, a tear stinging in your eye despite the corners of your lips having been turn upwards.

Yes. The time was yet to come for the people to see again the blessings of magic. For now… the blessing of love already bloomed and it was enough.

Očaruj mě - Bewitch Me (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

Ochraňuj mě - Protect Me (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this one

Complete masterlist

Yes, I’m mixing symbols, I know… do I care? Nope.

Terms of endearment/addressing used from Slovak language: bosorka moja = witch mine rytier môj = knight mine ľubim ťa = I love you

Thank you for reading!💕 I wrote it in between really difficult exams in the ocourse of two months and it needed a LOT of editing afterwards too, so... feedback is, as always, appreciated 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #knight steve rogers #knight steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers x you #knight steve rogers imagine #medieval au #fantasy au #fairy tale au #lemons #pomiluj me #anika ann

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sonnetsoncanvas · 2 years ago

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Mess it up : pt 2

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading!

Chapter 2: Every time I get too close, I just go mess it up.

Reader POV

Stepping outside the airport gates, you were hit with an array of smells.

Hot bagels and car exhaust and manhole steams and people shouting and cars honking

Sounds you grew up listening to.

Sounds that used to remind you of home.

But you haven’t considered New York City as your home for a while now. You’ve been living in Boston for the past four years completing law school at Harvard, and chose to stay back during breaks.

The small crammed apartment that you grew up in has been abandoned for years, ever since your mom passed away, and you have no emotional connect whatsoever with the fancy new penthouse your brother had bought to live with his girlfriend in.

To be completely honest however, you stopped considering New York as your home ever since that fateful night when a certain blue eyed man shattered your heart……..

“Peanut!”

You’re snapped out of your reverie by a familiar, over enthusiastic voice. Your brother’s voice.

The world knew him as Steven Grant Rogers, lead guitarist and vocalist of the “Avengers”, one of the most sought-after music producers in the industry and the doting boyfriend of supermodel Natasha Romanoff.

You knew him as Stevie, the elder brother who practically raised you when your single mother had to work two jobs in order to raise her kids, the man who proudly shouts “that’s my baby sister” every time you made an accomplishment, no matter how small, and refused to call you anything but peanut even though you’re a grown woman with a summa cum laude in criminal law from Harvard.

You let him engulf you in a big bear hug until you cannot breathe anymore. he steps back and it never ceases to amaze you how much he’s changed. Gone was the skinny blonde boy of Brooklyn, replaced by more than six feet of muscle and an intimidating beard. Even though the change was gradual, it was massive.

“who are you and where is my human sized brother?” you asked, the same joke you’d cracked ever since he started bulking up. but it still cracks him up.

“That scraggly idiot? show business ate him up.” Came the reply

“More like he couldn’t handle the pressure of having such a hot girlfriend.” Natasha answered from behind him, an amused smirk on her face and her eyebrows raised in challenge.

“hey what can I say, a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do” your brother drawled, playfully winking at his girl. That was their thing, teasing and taunting and bantering, and yet being equally besotted with each other.

“Nat!” you exclaimed, dropping your bags to hug her, “you didn’t have to come to airport!”

She hugged you with the tenderness and love of an older sister “don’t be ridiculous. I already had to miss your graduation for work. There’s no way in hell I’m missing an opportunity to see you again.”

“I here for an entire week Nat.” you replied fondly as Steve steered you both towards the car. In spite of what you said, you were glad to see Natasha. You’d known her for as long as Steve’s been dating her and immediately liked her and her quick wit. the fact that she genuinely loved and cared about your brother and was supportive of his love for his family and friends made you love her even more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All throughout the ride from the airport your brother kept rambling about all that he’d planned for you while you were in the city, a sure tell of how excited he was to have you here. You turned around to see Nat, grinning at his childlike eagerness and you realised you had missed this, the easy comfort of being home. Of being coddled and pampered by your brother.

It isn’t like you haven’t met Steve since you left home. He tried his best to squeeze a few visits in every other month, but in between your studies and his work, it was a huge task in itself. And even then, it would be for a few hours, an overnight stay tops.

You liked this. This was reason why you were seriously considering moving back to New York, even though the San Francisco job offered you a few more amenities. So that you can see Steve more often. Especially now that your mom is gone and all that you both have left is each other.

“And it’s not just me who’s all excited to have you back Peanut. Bucky has been cleaning the entire damn apartment like a crime scene ever since he heard you’re coming over. He washed the curtains for god’s sake. WHO WASHES CURTAINS?!”

The mention of his name jerked you back to reality. It took you a second to fully understand what Steve was saying, and when you did completely get what he’d said, you were suddenly terrified.

“Wait a sec, why is Bucky cleaning your place?” you ask, hoping that none of your hysteria seeped into your words.

“Cause I already cook and do the dishes, and that sloth hadn’t cleaned in months, it’s like living with an animal. I swear Mrs Barnes would kill us both if she saw how we live…..”

“Hold on Steve, do you and Bucky Live together?”

Steve immediately sensed something was off by the way you addressed him, “Bucky and I have been sharing a place for years Y/N. is something wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong.” You laughed to cover your nervousness and took a moment to collect yourself, a tactic you learnt in law school, and replied calmly, “it’s just that you told me months ago that you and Nat are moving in together and I just assumed you would be living with her.”

“We would have been if the genius here had not objected to the closet in our room. The poor designer has to redo the entire room just to fit in extra space for his beloved sneakers.” Nat interjected with mock annoyance. “If you ask me, I think he’s fibbing intentionally because he isn’t ready to leave his house husband just yet.”

“Well forgive me for thinking that my shoes deserve the same respect as yours. At least they’re comfortable, not some bejewelled instrument of torture…”

You tuned out the rest of the banter, focussing on the chaos in your mind instead. You knew you might see Bucky one time or another during your visit. He’s Steve’s best friend after all, along with his band mate. And even though you weren’t completely ready for that, an evening around him was infinitely more comfortable than sharing a goddamn apartment with him.

All of a sudden, the air in the car wasn’t enough and your head started clouding with thoughts. Thoughts you had kept locked away in some abyss of your brain for far too long. Thoughts that asked questions you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, thoughts that reminded you of moments you couldn’t bear to relive.

You cannot see him again.

It will ruin you, or whatever parts of you you’d salvaged and rebuilt over the years.

You try to convince Steve to let you stay at a hotel, reasoning that you’d already been offered accommodation by the firm at five-star hotel, so why waste that and trouble them, to which you brother gave you his trademark sad puppy eyes. They were fool proof and the bastard knew it. He’d been using it to get his way since childhood.

So here you were, being driven by your obviously oblivious brother to your Ex’s house, who also happened to be his closest friend.

And you have to spend the rest of the week pretending that he wasn’t the only man you had ever loved. That he wasn’t the one who stole all your firsts from you and in return gifted you an eternal heartache.

Like he wasn’t the one who discarded you like a used tissue the minute he hit stardom.

Fuck this is going to be a long week.

Bucky POV

For the life of him, he couldn’t sit still. Which was funny because James Buchanan Barnes, raised in the upper echelons of New York social scene, was taught from his childhood to sit still, to be calm and composed no matter.

But how on Earth was he to retain his composure when his heart was beating faster than Verstappen’s red bull, when his head was buzzing so much he stupidly wondered if was drugged. His stomach was in knots, his anxiety worse than his first sold out concert.

“If it freaks you out so much, just leave man. Tell Steve that you had some shoot, hell, tell him anything. But get your shit together before he figures out.” Sam, another one of his bandmates and his closest friend after Steve, offered his sage advice. “More importantly,” he sipped his beer, “Before she figures out.”

Sam was probably the only person whom Bucky had told about your relationship. He would’ve hid it from him as well if he had a choice, but Samuel Thomas Wilson was no fool. He had already noticed the lingering glances, the prolonged touches, the swapped sweatshirts. It was a good thing though because younger Bucky had felt relieved to let at least someone in on his secret, some one who could cover for him.

It was a good thing because older Bucky had someone to confide in and talk about you.

“Do you take Steve for an idiot? He knows my schedule; we share the same manager for god’s sake. He would smell my bullshit from miles away.” Bucky countered.

“Still better than him suspecting that the awkwardness between Y/N and you is because, well I don’t know, maybe the fact that you dumped her ? ” Sam chuckled.

“I’m glad you find my pain amusing you son of a bitch.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be awkward.” Bucky said after a while, hopefully. “I mean it’s been so long, too long even. We’ve both dated other people. It would be fine, if not like the old times.”

“Correction, YOU have dated other people. She, from what I know, hasn’t dated anyone after you.” Sam said, rummaging through the fridge for something to eat.

Even though the thought of you dating someone else, to give them your smile, your love, your body, filled bucky with dread, he still asked, “ And you know this how ?”

“Cause she told me.”

“You talk to her?!” He couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, now and again. You weren’t the only guy who fancied her shithead.” Sam said, merely to get a rise out of him

And he got what he wanted, a low growl and a threatening look from his best friend. Still he continued, unbothered and unafraid, “See, THIS is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. You still have feelings for her. Do you seriously think you can live in the same place as her without doing something stupid? without Steve noticing? “

Just then the front door opened, killing Bucky’s scathing reply in his throat. Steve entered first, lugging a couple of bags, his head turned backwards, saying something to Nat, who entered next.

And then his heart stopped.

And it started beating again.

Faster. Crazier.

His eyes fell on the one person they’d craved for years, drinking in every detail, in all its glory. And your eyes found his.

And in that moment Bucky learnt what it was to be killed and reborn.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #steve and bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barns #bucky fluff #fanfic #avengers fandom

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allandoflimbo · 1 year ago

Text

I C E P R I N C E S S 11

Pairings: Popular Girl!Reader x Outkast!Bucky

Explicit Content - Smut - NO MINORS

Summary:

Bucky Barnes is the quiet boy who gets picked on.

The Reader and her friends run with the popular crowd at Stark High.

As the Winter Ball approaches, she is partnered with Bucky Barnes for a class project. They grow close in an inadvertently secret friendship, which later turns into love.

Only catch is…she’s Steve Roger’s ex girlfriend, and before she was partnered up with Bucky, her friends had planned to use and turn Bucky into Stark High’s new it boy to try and get back at Steve; a disgusting bet.

Another catch: She’s a figure skater at the town’s arena every Tuesday and Thursday nights. Bucky works part time at the rink resurfacing the ice. The other doesn’t know.

Modern AU High School fic - later goes into adulthood.

M A S T E R P A G E - FULL SERIES

Warnings: This story will have a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lot of cursing, and a lot of sex. Oral, praise kink, body worship, overstimulation, etc. you know me. There will also be loss of virginity in this.

Please support your content creators and writers and leave a review.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

A/n: The chapter you've been waiting for. Smut ahead. Reminder that everyone is 18 or older and consenting adults. :)

The Cabin

The day had started a little awkwardly. Everyone had to find their rooms and unpack. Sam and Bucky were rooming together, Matt and Steve, you and Sharon, and Carol was with Monica. There was a spare room for if your friend Nat decided to arrive tomorrow.

You had spoken to Bucky only briefly, he'd been acting awkward since Steve showed up. He was always so chatty but now with everyone around, it was like he reverted to not speaking as much.

But you don't miss his eyes the way they stay with yours.

Now the popcorn was popped, and the pizza was baked. Closing in a eight pm, the lights were off and the fire in the fire place was blazing. Your eyes would meet across the circle as everyone talked to each other.

At one point, you decided to go into the kitchen for a can of soda when you heard footsteps behind you.

You turned around and the blue-green eyed boy smiled at you.

"Hey." He says.

"Hey, Steve."

You feel a bit awkward as you move through the kitchen and closer to him.

"How are you doing?" He asks softly.

"I'm alright," you answer, you push a strand of hair behind your ear and cross one of your arms over your chest, "takes time, ya know?" You add a chuckle in for the sake of you me sanity. He knows you're talking about multiple things. Your break up, his cheating, your accident, your recovery. He knows you've changed in the last six months and he's admired the girl you've become. He would always respect you.

"How's skating going? I missed your last one. I'm sorry."

You swallow hard.

He sees a far away sadness in your eyes before you respond.

"It's okay." You whisper. You look away from him and to the ground, "I miss him, Stevie."

Steve reaches forward and cups the back of your neck with his right hand.

You blink away tears as his thumb runs over the scar there.

"Oh, Y/N." He says.

"I never thanked you properly for being there for me."

He smiles at you.

"I'll always be there for you."

It's then that you both hear someone walk into the kitchen. You look over to see Bucky standing in the entrance mid step.

You don't know why you overthink the situation. Maybe it's the way he eyes Steve's hand on your neck.

Bucky feels like he's suddenly intruded on something he didn't want to see, even though he had no right to not like it.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—" Bucky mumbles, about to turn back around.

"No, it's okay." Steve says, dropping his hand away from your neck, "Bucky, right?"

Bucky nods.

"I was just telling Steve about my brother," Steve is momentarily shocked, not expecting you'd be so transparent with Bucky, but he doesn't mind. If anything. It just peaks his interest. He doesn't miss the way your eyes soften and the way your voice has taken on a new tone. Bucky clears his throat, "he was there for me through it all when it happened so he knows everything."

It's meant to console Bucky. You don't know why you feel the need to justify this position and make Bucky reassured it's nothing happening. But the words do the opposite of console Bucky.

"I understand." Bucky says. He forces a smile and your eyes meet once more. You're the one that swallows hard this time, "but really it's fine. Just wanted to let you guys know they're about to start a game. I think telestrations or something."

You and Steve both nod and Bucky leaves.

Steve clears his throat and turns to you with a knowing smirk.

You frown at him.

"What?" You ask.

"He likes you."

You blush as you look away from him. You let out a small chuckle.

"No, I don't think so." You say quietly.

Bucky didn't like you. Did he?

"Please. The way he was looking at you?"

You shake your head to yourself remembering all the things Bucky said to you at the restaurant.

"He'd never like someone like me. He's said so himself."

"A sweet girl like you?" You don't say anything as you stare back at the entryway Bucky just walked out of, "and something tells me you like him, too." Your eyes flicker to his at those words.

—-

"That's not fair! You cheated!" Sam yells.

"How the hell did I cheat?" Steve exclaims with laughter.

"You and your damn drawing skills, that's how."

"This game doesn't even keep score." Carol says, "get over it." She rolls her eyes.

Sam glares at her as he reaches for the Grey Goose bottle, downing the rest of it in one go.

You raise a brow at him.

"Sore loser alert." You mumble.

Everyone laughs.

"You know what, y/l/n?" Sam says once he puts the bottle down.

"What?" You ask playfully and smirking.

He squints at you and a smile fills his face.

"You're lucky you're cool or I swear." He says.

"Alright, enough of this shit." Matt says, reaching over for the telestrations box and packing up everyone's little notebooks.

"Hey!" Sharon protests, "we weren't done."

"I don't care Sharon, let's play a real game. Anyone up for truth or dare?" Matt says with a smirk, "an X rated version?"

You're biting at your bottom lip as your eyes migrate towards Bucky on the couch next to Sam. You pull out your phone.

Let's ditch everyone. Want to see something cool?

You send him the text. You watch as he frowns when he feels the vibration in his pocket and pulls out his phone. He reads your text and smiles.

| Sure. Go ahead I'll be right behind you.

You smile as you read his response. You clear your throat as you stand up.

"I'll be right back, guys." You announce, pulling your black hoodie down.

Sharon looks up at you with furrowed brows.

"Where are you going?" She asks.

"Just outside for a bit. I'll be back." You say.

Bucky feels the butterflies in his tummy as he watches you walk out the cabin and into the night air.

He takes a sip from his Coca Cola can and then places it on the table next to him, next to a stack of Uno cards.

"Alright, who's going to start?" Matt asks, obnoxiously excited. His eyes dart over to Bucky knowingly, but Bucky's patience is wearing thin:

"I have to excuse myself, guys." Bucky says, throwing everyone except Matt a smile.

The girls all smile back at him and Sam and Steve give each other a knowing look with a small smile.

"Okie dokie." Sam shouts, "be safe out there."

Matt's face is in a hard glare as his nose flares, eyes not darting away from Bucky.

He can't help the scorn as Bucky follows behind you out the door.

"I'm tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed." Carol says, yawning.

"Me too." Steve says.

"Same." Sharon.

"You're a bunch of old people." Matt mumbles, marching away.

—-

"Where the hell are we going?" Bucky asks you, following across the large open field and into the woods.

You smile faintly.

"You'll see," you look over at him and smile. His eyes meet yours in an intense stare, and his gaze follows the bridge of your nose, "you trust me?" You ask so quietly he almost doesn't hear you.

"Yeah." He doesn't even hesitate to respond.

"Come on." You say.

You two walk for about three more minutes. Through heavy trees and over a small river that has a log connecting one side to the other as a bridge.

He halts when you stop in front of him. His eyes follow your gaze to the white building standing in the middle of an open field.

It's a white church with black shudders, completely abandoned and half falling apart.

"This is creepy." He says.

You giggle.

"You're safe, don't worry," you grab his hand and you lead him into the church. The moldy wooden floorboards creek beneath your feet as you step inside, letting the heavy black door close behind you.

You look up at Bucky. His jaw is sharp, handsomely perfect, and his eyes take in the terrifying dark space. Half the ceiling is caved in, exposing the night black sky.

"Stay here." You tell him.

"What?" There's a certain fear in his voice that you find adorable, "where are you going?" He asks as he watches you walk into the abyss of darkness.

You don't respond and Bucky shifts his weight from leg to leg anxiously. He says your name once more and nothing. He licks his lips and is about to decide to disobey your order when he hears a loud bang and a humming sound. Then he sees you perfectly clear as you walk back to him.

He can see you because there's a large chandelier hanging from the partial ceiling that he hadn't seen before and it's hundreds of bulbs glow a bright orange above you. He's speechless as his heart beats like crazy inside of his chest.

You're giving him the brightest smile he's ever seen in his life and you're glowing like the sun. You looked breathtaking.

You motioned your arms around you to show him to look around and he does. The whole church is glowing and it looks beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you.

"How—" he starts, his voice fading off.

"I found this place a couple years ago when we first started coming here."

"Alone?"

"Alone." You confirm.

"You've never showed anyone else?"

There's a beat of silence.

"No. Just you." You say.

You watch him intently as he walks up to you. He's giving you a look you can't identify. Then he smiles wide.

"I don't know if I should be scared of you or..."

You tilt your head at him.

"Or?" You ask.

You both hear a rumble and your eyes dart up to the sky. Somehow you had both moved to the center of the church.

"I don't know. Something. You're interesting." He whispers, looking back down at you.

You don't realize how close you both are. You're too caught up in this moment to tell.

"You're something, too." You say, a smile pulling at your lips.

He laughs.

And just like that, the skies open up and the rain begins to pour over the both of you.

You look up and laugh.

"We're going to get sick." Bucky chuckles.

The rain picks up even more and Bucky stares down at you. You're soaking wet. Your hair glues to the side of your face and to your shoulders. The rain drops dangles over your lips and your eyelashes.

Somehow, he finds himself grabbing your hand. You squeeze each other tightly.

The lights flicker above you until they finally shut off completely. The rain was getting worst.

Bucky doesn't say anything as he pulls you behind him in the darkness.

For the first time in a long time, you feel truly safe.

Out the church, you both speed walk towards the woods. The trees help a little to shelter you from the rain but it still continues to wet you nonetheless. The cold air didn't help either.

He guides you across the log that's laid over the river, his hands holding your waist. Through more woods and more mud, you're both practically walking puddles.

Both escape the woods and the cabin comes in straight view.

You both make a run for it through the sheets of water, your hands still clasped tightly together.

You find yourself slipping on the mud beneath your now dirty shoes and it causes you to slide to the side and towards the grass.

Bucky laughs out loud as he catches you and you laugh too.

He's got you until you're steady back on your feet and you continue your run inside.

You're at the front door and his hand keeps slipping from the doorknob. He chuckles as he watches you getting even more wet, if possible.

You looked goddamn adorable.

He finally manages to get the door open and he closes it quietly behind you. You're both still laughing and your shoes squeak over the floor. The cabin is dark, a clear sign that everyone was already asleep,

Bucky is still laughing and your mind is in a daze. You're giggling non stop. Your back is against the wall next to the stairs that leads up to the other rooms and he's standing right in front of you, laughing and smiling non stop.

You place both your hands on his chest as you giggle, and suddenly he's right up against you. Your hands slide up until they are near his shoulders. You can feel him rumbling beneath your hands as he laughs and whispers something you can quite understand.

"Shhh, shhhh..." you tell him playfully between giggles. He giggles and his eyes crinkle at the sides, "shhh." You say again.

Eventually his giggles dial down, as do yours, and silence engulfs you both.

The rain patters against the glass and ground outside.

Your eyes follow his piercing blue eyes and how they're looking into your own, and then they travel down his nose, and to his lips.

There's no more laughing.

Bucky leans his forehead down against yours and closes his eyes.

Oh, this, this felt like a thousand burning suns.

You find your hands on either side of his neck as his nose hits yours. You both smell like a fresh thunderstorm.

With a sigh he opens his eyes. His left thumb runs over the tops of your cheeks and your eyes meet again.

You feel like you're going to implode when he starts to slowly move in. You find yourself meeting him halfway.

Both of your eyes are halfway closed as his lips finally run over yours in a soft but languid peck.

You're both still when he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again.

In total sync, you both move in at the same time, smashing your lips together in a passionate and dirty kiss.

You find your hand going to the back of his head, near the nape of his neck, and you deepen the kiss even further.

The sound Bucky makes as he tilts his head for better access, letting his tongue run over yours, makes your core tingle and your insides burn.

His right hand is on your waist traveling upwards to your neck. His left hand is cupping your face. The sighs of contentment that you leave on each other is magical and a language of its own.

He slows down his kisses and then fully stops. You're going to ask him what's wrong when he grabs your hand and starts to walk up the stairs.

You've never felt like this before.

This was a first for you.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him find the spare room that was being unoccupied.

His fingers run over yours as he opens the door and pulls you inside. He locks the door with an audible click and neither of you waste an extra second.

Your kisses are hot and frantic. He's pushing you to walk back towards the bed and you sit on it on your knees. You grab his shirt in a fist and pull him to follow you.

Once he's also on his knees in front of you, he grabs your wrists and leans back to look down at you. Both of your lips are swollen and both of your eyes are dark.

He runs his hand once more over your chin and to the back of your head where your hair runs between his fingers. He leans his forehead down against yours.

Suddenly, you're both nervous.

You've never done this before. You wonder if he has.

You're so shy right now but also so scared; in the best way possible.

"You want this?" His question is hoarse and three octaves lower than it normally is.

You nod.

He kisses you one more time and then his fingers go to the hem of your soaking wet sweatshirt.

Once he pulls it off you, your skin feels much colder and crave his touch. You've got a black tank top on and you help him remove that, too.

You were beautiful. Your perky breasts are the sweetest things he's ever seen and your nipples are hard against the cold air. Left hand to your neck, he kisses you again, letting your tongues dance together.

This time, you help him pull off his own black sweatshirt. He has nothing underneath and your hands immodestly goes to his pecks and down his torso. He shivers underneath your touch.

You're not sure what to do. Since you've never done this, you don't know how much is too much yet. You've only read about scenes like this in books and fanfiction but doing it in real life felt so much scarier.

You knew it was because it was your first time, it would get easier, but you wished it wasn't this scary. Every move you make is determined but hesitant. You're afraid of disappointing him. You wanted this to be perfect.

But you knew that if this was his first time too, it wouldn't be romance book perfect.

But as he removed your shoes and pants, and when you were both just in your underwear, you realized it didn't have to be perfect and that's what made it perfect.

It wasn't about who did what but about what you were trying to express to each other. You hoped deeply that he was feeling the same thing you were.

He's hovering over you. The pillow is behind your head and he's got his left forearm over it. His right hand is on your waist where he rubs soft circles just over your underwear.

You both kiss again, this time his lips catching your bottom one beautifully.

"Bucky." You whisper, hating to break the silence but knowing that communicating is going to be important right now.

"Yeah?" He asks just as quietly, his thumb running over the top of your head.

You maintain eye contact as you shimmy your underwear off and down your legs. Bucky gulps, his eyes darting down as he watches you.

He doesn't miss the way you close your legs involuntarily to shy away from his eyes.

No one has even seen that part of your body before.

"Please be gentle with me." You say.

He whimpers at your words. Not because he doesn't like it but because you sound so sweet.

"Of course," he says, his right hand going to the outside of your thigh. He kisses you again and you moan against his mouth, "I'm scared." He freezes up at your words. Did he do something you didn't consent to? Did he scare you? Shit. He starts to pull away from you but you grab onto his neck again, "I know it's going to hurt, that's why I'm scared. It's not you. It's that part of me, I never...and I've always heard..." your voice starts to fade away as small tears fill your eyes and he starts to realize what you were saying.

Bucky doesn't know why he'd always assumed you and Steve had slept together before. Maybe it just seemed to him like it made sense. You and Steve were together for so long and were eighteen already. Bucky wonders why it never happened.

But he's also feeling something else. He's feeling special and prideful. Because you, god how he treasures and admires you. He would never do anything to hurt you ever again and the fact that you will be each others first, it sends a fire through his heart.

He's so happy it's you and he hopes you feel the same way about it.

"I will never hurt you," you trust him immensely even though you know that what he's about to do to your body he has no control over how it will feel. At least not much control, "I've never done this either." You kiss him when he says that, "it won't be perfect, but that's okay." You whimper, "we'll have other times after this one." He says against your lips. You chuckle at his words, finally feeling more at ease. His words lighten everything for just a moment, but that's it.

"Can I touch you?" He asks against your lips.

You nod.

His lips leave yours and they move to your collarbone. He leaves you three pecks there, then he moves his face back to hover over yours again. It's then that you watch as he dips two fingers into his mouth and then down to your core.

You moan quietly as he rubs your clit in small circles. He responds to your moans with his own and he watches your face. Your eyes are closed and the smallest of pants and gasps leave the break of your lips.

"So beautiful." He whispers.

He gains more confidence when he watches you lick your own fingers. You meet his hand.

"Put them inside me." You tell him desperately.

Buck gulps and nods his head. He's never done this. He's watched porn before but actually doing it was different. He doesn't want to disappoint you.

He slides his fingers further down your folds, he gathers something of what's leaking out of you on to his fingers and then slides into you bit by bit with his pointer finger. Then he adds his middle finger.

He stretches his left arm above your head as he looks down at what he's doing to you. He gains confidence and his fingers gain speed and technique, making a come-here motion as he watches you unravel underneath him.

Your hand leaves your clit as his own palm starts to do the work for you.

"Oh, fuck." You groan. It sounds so filthy along with the squelching noises around you and Bucky knows he won't last long the second he's inside of you. He's taking pride in when he sees how he's giving you so much pleasure right now.

He quickens his movements, and you lean up on your arms, looking down at him work you. Your left leg widens a bit and you start to meet his hand with your hips as you feel your end approaching.

You don't care how loud you might be panting and the noise the mattress might be making over the bed. This felt unworldly.

You feel so close that you start overthinking it. What if you became too sensitive and it made the pain worst?

In a matter of seconds you have your hand on Bucky's wrist, stopping him.

You're still panting as he looks at you confused. You don't pull out his fingers, you just hold onto him. You both share a sloppy kiss.

"I want you inside me." You say against his lips.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you as he nods.

He pulls his fingers out of you and your hands go to his boxers.

Bucky hisses when his dick is free. He's already leaking precum and is as hard as a rock. This might be your first time but you know he might not last very long.

That's okay.

Bucky gasps as he feels your small hand wrap around him. It feels softer than you thought it would and heavier. His legs tremble over you as you stroke him once and then twice.

"Fuck,—" he grunts. You look up at him and god if he doesn't look absolutely gorgeous and perfect. He had his own hand on his abdomen as he looked down at you work him just right, "stop, stop." He whines, pulling you off of him.

He grabs your hand and folds your fingers with his. He holds it on the pillow next to your heard. Then he's over you again, and he looks completely enthralled by you.

Your right hand goes to his cheek as you lean up and kiss him softly.

Bucky's thumb from his other hand drags over your top lip.

This was it.

You feel him maneuver and then you feel it. His tip runs from your clit all the way down to your entrance and back again.

You can tell he's already so close and you're so apprehensive.

"I'll go so slow for you, okay? Okay? You don't have to worry with me. I gotcha." He reassures you.

You can only nod as you feel him prepare.

The first inch push isn't so bad. The second still isn't terrible but he can tell you're starting to tense up. You're gnawing at your bottom lip as you stare down. He stops.

"Hey, hey," he says gently, cupping your face, "your tense. Shhh." He wipes the tear that runs down your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You say.

"Don't be sorry. I just need you to keep remembering what I promised you." You nod again.

He waits a few more seconds and then continues. It's the fourth inch that does it for you and you find a shout getting stuck in your throat. It doesn't come out because you're biting so hard on your bottom lip.

"Shh, shh," he says softly, "I got you. I got you."

He keeps going further in and the sting you feel hurts bad, making you almost move up the bed. You gasp, your hand going to his toned abs.

"God." You groan.

"Almost there." Another and another and another.

You shake your head back and forth.

"Just do it fast, Bucky. It's okay." You tell him.

Bucky leans his forehead down on yours and nods.

You close your eyes tightly together until you feel him flush up against you. He starts with soft thrusts that make you cry softly, but after a few seconds, it starts to go away and you find yourself trying to find his lips.

He moans as you both share a deep kiss and as his hips pick up in speed.

He pulls away from your lips and he moans. It's so hard to keep it quiet when you know everyone outside could hear you. But the sound of skin slapping on skin and your little breaths are too noticeable.

He feels so good inside you, and the way he rubs your clit perfectly in sync with his movements has you feeling amazing.

His thrust get faster and harder and you can see the sweat on his chest.

"I'm sorry, fuck, I can't—" he whimpers, his eyes closing tight. His mouth opens in a gasp as he rams hard into you just once and he's grunting out loud.

You knew this would happen and it doesn't surprise you. It also doesn't disappoint you. You gave him pleasure and you were his first as he was yours. This was everything you wanted.

You let him spill into you and you run your fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer into the crook of your neck where he places little kisses.

He does something you don't expect.

He doesn't stop moving. You know he must be in pain from being over sensitive but he's on a mission for you.

He wasn't going to be a cliche first time where his girl doesn't cum.

"Come on, baby," he mumbles into your neck, his tongue dancing over your hot skin. You feel his fingers on your clit and he starts flicking you fast and hard, "come on." He repeats.

He's practically sobbing at this point as he works overtime to try and get you to cum and fuck, you do.

You cum hard.

You're groaning and moaning and gasping as you grab onto his head and back, eventually your left hand going to the pillow behind your head. You move your hips faster against his rod until you know you've coated him entirely in your cum. Your movements slow down as does his and all you can hear is your heavy panting.

"Oh my god." Almost inaudibly and more to yourself than anything.

He kisses your neck again. He lifts himself just slightly to pull out of you.

He lays down next to you, facing you, and pulls the covers over the both of you.

You're staring at each other, completely lost in the other.

He's trailing your features with his fingers and you're kissing his fingers as they occasionally pass your lips.

He leans forward and kisses your lips once more.

Then, sleep overcomes the both of you.

N E X T C H A P T E R

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes fanfic #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier fanfic #modern au

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sweetiebarnes · 11 months ago

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#my polls #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #chris evans #steve rogers #stucky #polls

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mcuamerica · 2 years ago

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I posted 396 times in 2022

That's 384 more posts than 2021!

99 posts created (25%)

297 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@time-for-a-library

@bloggingfromherbed

@mcuamerica

@k-evans-reads

@chrisevansdaughter

I tagged 164 of my posts in 2022

#chris evans - 50 posts

#katie writes - 38 posts

#marvel - 31 posts

#the blue willow - 30 posts

#tom holland - 26 posts

#tbw - 23 posts

#queue are beautiful - 19 posts

#steve rogers - 18 posts

#chris evans x reader - 18 posts

#katie answers - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 60 characters

#i'm so bad at slow burn fics but i love them so much too lol

My Top Posts in 2022:

With Me (Chris Evans)

Pairings: Chris Evans x GN!Reader

(I tried my best to use gender neutral language as the person who requested this didn’t specify their gender, but pls let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: Friendship can blossom into more than just friendly love.

Request: “hey, can you do an imagine where you and [Chris Evans are] best friends, everyone is always nagging you two to date (ever since you were kids). then, over time you both have feelings for each other and then the both of u dateee :>"

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I was excited to write this one so I wrote it when we had lulls at work and then once I got home. Hope you like it! Fill out this poll if you want more Chris Evans AUs!

7 years old

“Go say hi,” Lisa said to Chris as he held one of his action figures in his hand.

“Mooomm, I don’t want to.” Chris said and pouted, looking over to the new family that was moving in across the street from them.

“You should make more friends. You’ll see them a lot too. Take your brother.” She said and motioned for Scott to come over. “Scott, go with Chris and say hi to the new kids across the street.” She said.

Chris narrowed his eyes and took Scott’s hand, walking carefully across the street to say hello. Lisa followed behind, smiling at your mother. “Hello, this is Chris and Scott, and I’m Lisa. We live across the street. I wanted to introduce these two since it looks like you have one around their age.” She said to your mother.

Your mom smiled and nodded, looking down at you. “This is (Y/N), they’re 7 years old.” She said and smiled. “(Y/N), can you say hi to Scott and Chris?” She asked, watching as you peaked your head from behind her leg.

“Hi,” you said timidly. “Do you want to see my toys? I have.. uh.. I have a few like yours.” You said and motioned to Chris’s toy in his hands.

Chris looked up at Lisa and she nodded, watching as the three kids walked over to the small bin of toys nearby. The three of you sitting together in the front yard of your house would become a common occurrence over the next few years, but more specifically Chris and you. You were in the same first grade class and you two were inseparable for years. Even during the summers, you did theater with him at the community center.

17 years old

“What do you mean you’re not taking me to the dance?” You said into the phone, frowning as you looked down to your outfit, one you spent months looking for as it was your senior prom. Your date let out some excuse about not wanting to go, so you ended up on your own.

You walked down the steps to face your parents. “My date isn't coming.” You said, dejected. “At all.” You said.

Your head perked up when you heard Chris’s familiar voice. “I can take you,” he said and smiled. “You look too amazing to be left without an escort.” He said and looked you up and down, admiring the whole ensemble you had put on for the dance.

“Chris,” you said and smiled at him, nodding your head. “Alright, fine,” you said and came down the steps, taking his arm and letting your mom take a few pictures.

“Oh! You two look so cute together. When are you going to get together?” She asked and you felt a rush of heat on the back of your neck.

“Mom!” You said, your eyes widening slightly.

“What? You two have been best friends since you were 7! You look incredibly together.” She said and shrugged as she took another picture. “I’m just saying, I would completely approve if Chris asked you out.”

“You have no shame,” you muttered and smiled a bit as Chris squeezed your waist. “She’s kidding, obviously.” You said.

“Obviously,” Chris teased and smiled, looking at the camera. “We even match.” He whispered, causing you to laugh softly.

“We do, it’s almost like fate.” You joked and smiled a bit, the sadness of your date ditching you fading away the more Chris sent small jokes and quips your way. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed because you would completely approve if Chris asked you out too. You would say yes, but you were his best friend and there was no way he would ask you out.

Little did you know that Chris felt and thought the same way. With you standing next to him, in the amazing formal outfit you picked out (which you had droned on for weeks to him, and he wasn’t complaining), laughing at his jokes, he knew that he would love for this to become a reality every day. But he couldn’t say anything, because he was your best friend. And there was no way you would say yes if he asked you out.

27 years old

It wasn’t like you to show up to Chris’s apartment in Boston at 3 in the morning. It wasn’t like you to show up anywhere but your bed at 3 in the morning, but here you were, knocking on his door as you clutched your duffle bag in your hands.

You waited a few moments, wanting to knock again until you saw him open the door. The sweats he clearly threw on a few seconds ago were hanging low on his hips as he rubbed his eyes. Those eyes widened when he saw your state. You had clearly been crying, bags under your eyes, holding the same duffle bag you used when you went off to college.

See the full post

243 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

Races

Pairings: Chris Evans x GN!Reader (i try my best to make it gender neutral. Let me know if I messed up!)

Request: “Going to the races with Chris. him being such a gentle giant, protective, his hands either resting on your waist or shoulders, sitting on his lap, betting together and putting his hands on your shoulders to lead the way through busy crowds. literally just so much fluff, butttt with some little parts of angst: the reader starts to feel insecure about themselves with all of the people around them feel like everyone else is better looking. but chris reassures the reader” - @remshearts

Warnings: mentions of insecurity, crowds, reader sits on Chris’s lap, might’ve included more angst but there’s plenty of fluff too

Words: 770ish

There you were, Chris’s arm wrapped around your waist, his hand on your hip rubbing small circles as you waited in line to bet on the horses that would be racing. You couldn’t help but look around, noticing that everyone around you seemed slightly better dressed then you. You noticed a couple people that were definitely better looking (in your opinion), so that insecure feeling started bubbling in your chest. Your thoughts were interrupted when Chris pressed his lips to your head. “Who do you want to bet on?” He whispered in your ear. You were surprised you could hear him over the loud crowd.

He was wearing a tan suit that made him fit in perfectly with the surrounding people, his sunglasses perched on his head since you two were in a shaded area. You looked up at him, admiring the freshly shaped beard until your eyes landed in his blue ones. “Uh… nor incredibly sure. I’ve never done this before.” You responded.

Chris’s eyes softened, if that was even possible, upon hearing this. “It’s okay, babe. We’ll bet together, yeah?” He suggested. “We’ll win because we’ve got you. And you are my good luck charm.” He said with a wink, squeezing your waist as he nudged you forward.

You both placed your bets, deciding on a horse named Mo Donegal. Chris knew more than you did, so you decided to go along with what he said. As you made your way through the crowd to your seats, that creeping feeling of insecurity popped up again. This wasn’t your place. You were never the high society type of person. You could barely even walk straight without tripping. But your nerves were settled when you felt Chris’s hands on your waist, making sure that you could navigate through the crowd. Once you both sat down, you saw the look on his face. He knew what was going through your head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, a hand reaching up to stroke your cheek. “I can tell your mind is racing right now, what’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You said, looking down. He tsked in disapproval, nudging your head up with his thumb so you’d look back in his eyes. “I don’t belong here, Chris.” You said quietly.

His brows furrowed, eyes glancing between yours until he shook his head. “No… (Y/N). Why would you say that? You’re with me. You’re doing great.” He said.

“I have a hole on the bottom of my shirt… everyone is wearing hats… they all look so good and I’m-“ You started but were quickly cut off by the feeling of Chris’s soft lips on yours.

“Stop that. You know you look amazing. And no one will pay attention to your outfit. They’re too busy holding their noses from the smell of the horses they’re making money on.” He teased, hands moving down to your waist. “You look incredible. Wonderful. You’re the most amazing person here. And I mean it.” He said and gave you that soft side smile of his that made you want to melt.

“But Chris-“

“No buts, (Y/N). Now come ‘ere.” He said and shifted slightly, pulling you on his lap. “I don’t want you to think that you don’t belong here. Because I want you here. And I want you to be comfortable with me.” He said, chin resting on your shoulder.

You turned to face him. “I am comfortable with you.” You assured him, reaching up to cup his beard. “But this whole thing is new to me.”

“I’m here to help you navigate it.” He said and winked at you again, kissing you one more time before turning his attention forward towards the racing track as the horses and jockeys lined up in the stalls.

Chris kept his arms wrapped around your waist the whole race, squeezing every now and then when the horse you bet on got closer to the front, eventually winning the race. He hopped up from his set, somehow spinning the two of you around in celebration of the victory. You heard yourself laugh along with him, kissing him gently as he leaned down to your level.

He led you back towards the car with his hands on your shoulders, knowing that the amount of people was probably draining you. When he opened the door for you, you turned back towards him. “Thank you, for today. I had an amazing time.” You said and smiled when he leaned down to kiss you again.

“Anything for you, babe.” He said quietly and kissed your forehead before motioning you to get in the car.

—————————————

A/N: i could’ve made this longer but I really wanted to post it and I’m not sure what else I would add. Also I absolutely love (in general but also writing) Chris being protective and all handsy… does something to me haha. Hope you liked it!

258 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

Favorites

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: hospitals, IV mentioned, pain meds, anxiety mentioned, not proof read

Request by @chrisevansdaughter “you’ve been in and out of hospitals most of your life because of a condition called costochondritis which is basically from what I was told it is inflammation of the rib cage, so the muscles in the rib cage strain easy and let me tell you it’s not fun. Unfortunately you have a flare up because it comes and goes which gives you heart palpitations, makes you feel dizzy etc which is pretty normal at least in my case. With being extremely painful sometimes it’s like a bad cramp or shooting pain if I had to describe it. It gets that Chris has to take you to the hospital for tests and medication which means needles do on top of being in hospital you hate needles like fear hate. So he brings all your comfort items, like one of his hoodies, your headphones to calm you and one of your favourite blankets to have whilst you get treated”

It was happening again. You couldn’t stand up because of the pain, you could barely breathe. Chris could tell something wrong by the way you were sitting with the slight pained expression on your face.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Chris asked and frowned, sitting up on your shared couch. “Are you having a flare up?”

You nodded your head slowly, causing the dizzy feeling to rush to your head. You lost focus on your eyes and took Chris’s hand in yours, squeezing it slightly. “It’s- It’s bad.” You muttered and felt your lip quiver slightly from the pain.

He helped you as best he could, deciding it was better to take you to the hospital because of how light headed you were getting. He called Scott, asking him to bring all of your favorite things to the hospitals. He didn’t know how much time you would be at the hospital and knowing that you hated being in them, he wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.

Chris held your opposite hand and distracted you, making sure you were looking into his baby blues while the doctors put an IV in your arm. They gave you some pain relief medication to help you, and eventually had to take you for some tests out of the room.

Chris stayed waiting for you, thanking Scott when he brought the bag of stuff for you. He set out the essential oil diffuser, putting in some oil so the smell of the room would be better than the clean and odd odor that all hospitals have. He put down your favorite blanket, one that both of you used frequently (it was twice the size of both of you combined). He got out your headphones, making sure they were charged up and then paired them with his phone, putting on your favorite calming soundtrack.

You came back, feeling tired because of the pain meds and from the anxiety of being at the hospital. When you saw all that he had done for you, you nearly started crying.

“I got your favorites,” He said quietly, embracing you softly as you melted into his arms.

This man gave you everything you could ask for and then some, even helping you put on your favorite sweatshirt of his so you were cozy enough to sleep while awaiting tests.

Even after you left, Chris didn’t stop comforting you, telling you how much he loved you and that he was so proud of you for getting through the pain.

The couple days after the visit were hard too, not knowing when the next flare up would be or if you would have to go to the hospital again. But you knew as long as Chris was with you, you would be safe.

267 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

Cuddles

Chris Evans Drabble

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (gender not specified)

Word Count: 400

Description: A long day of work calls for all the soft cuddles and fluff

There he was. Standing with his arms open, Dodger by his side wagging his tail, as he waited for you to come in from the garage. You have a tired smile, slowly walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist to inhale his sweet and savory scent.

“Hey baby,” Chris mumbled into your hair after kissing the top of your head. “Long day?” He asked, rubbing your back up in down and in the process making you practically melt into him.

All you could do was hum in agreement into his chest, burying your face impossibly deeper in the soft blue sweater he had on.

“Want to lay down?” He added, trying but failing to pull away as your grip on him tightened ever so slightly. “Want to cuddle?” He added, resulting in you pulling awaythis time, just enough to look up at the blue-eyed man’s bearded face.

“Please?” You asked, your voice quiet. He nodded, turning around and taking your hand in his, a smile coming to his face as he led you over to the living room and you pet Dodger while walking.

Chris laid down on the extra wide couch, pulling you towards his chest as you fell into it beside him. Dodger curled in a ball on the floor, his eyes still looking up at the two of you.

You, almost like the adorable dog, curled into Chris’s side. You were just happy to be in his arms, by his side. You leaned into his touch as he ran his hand over your hair, slightly massaging your scalp.

“You know, I missed you today.” He said quietly, giving you that side smile that couldn’t be described as anything but soft. “Dodger and I went on a walk and he wanted so badly to get in the car to visit you.”

“I missed you too.” You whispered and reciprocated the smile. “And are you sure that was Dodger and not you?” You teased, smiling happily as you heard his sweet chuckle.

“I think it was both.” Chris said, looking down at you and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I ever tell you how much I love you?” He asked and a larger smile came to your face.

“Once or twice. But you can always remind me.” You said, resting your chin on his chest.

“I love you, (Y/N), so much.” He whispered and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

——————————

A/N: Hey!! If you liked this drabble and would want to read more Chris Evans from me, maybe fill out this poll and let me know what you would like? I’m outlining a new AU to start writing soon, and I need help!

317 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

a request here!

chris being all shy and lovely dovely when he’s hears you talking about him in an interview. (for example: your both of yous are at the promo of your movie together). you two had to split up quickly to do your own promo/interviews with the press. then he hears you talk about him and is in complete shock (in a good way) and everyone around him are teasing him about him being a simp! <333

A/N: I can already tell I'm going to love this one to. Thanks for requesting again! (Lucky I have this week off and I'm feeling inspired haha... Also look at him!!! I can't with this man) also, if you could fill out this poll quickly before/after reading, I’m planning a new Chris Evans AU and need some more ideas.

Of Course, Baby

Pairings: Actor!Chris x Actor/GN!Reader

------------------------------------------------

Earlier Today

"Oh, yeah, Chris is amazing. And when he gets into character it's like you're transformed into the world with him. I mean, I think I can act - but boy can he act too." You said happily, smiling at the interviewer who had just asked what it was like working with the Chris Evans.

"And has there been any... romance... on set at all?" The interviewer asked, smiling over at you. "We've seen how the two of you act together, there is some pretty amazing chemistry between the two of you." She said.

"Oh, I don't know about that. We're really good friends." You said, glancing over to your manager. You and Chris didn't want to speak about your relationship to the public yet, but both of your teams and a few of your fellow co-stars/friends knew about the two of you. "But he really is amazing. And incredibly handsome too, especially with the beard. He's even got longer hair for part of the movie - which is in the trailer so I'm not spoiling anything - and he looked really good when filming that. But yeah... just friends." You nodded as you rambled, pursing your lips.

Present

"And that was was your co-star (Y/N) (L/N) had to say about filming with you. Anything to say back?" The same interviewer asked, watching as a soft blush crossed over Chris's cheeks.

"Oh, (Y/N) is a sweetheart. I loved acting with them, truly." He said and smiled happily. "(Y/N) flatters me way too much, too. I try telling them that they are an incredible actor, and person, but they never fully believe me. Plus, they are so passionate about their work, which makes it even better. I really wouldn't expect them to compliment me that much though." He said and smiled, thanking the interviewer when she got up then left.

"Wow, Chris, you really do like (Y/N). I know you two are dating, but it's cute to see you physically blushing. Twitter is going to have a field day." His manager said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Oh come on, I wasn't blushing." He said and ran a hand down his beard, as if to wipe the smile off his face. It didn't work. Thinking of you and the compliments you gave him make his heart melt and all he wanted to do was go two rooms down so he could see you to return the favor.

"You were, and I think you might want to go see (Y/N) before your face turns completely red." He said and smiled when Chris got up.

"I've got time?" Chris asked and his manager nodded.

"You're so whipped." He added, hearing a loud chuckle from Chris as he walked out of the room.

"Fine by me!" He called back to him, smiling when he knocked on the door to your interview room. "Hey, baby," He said when he saw the room only had you, your manager, and your makeup stylist in it. "Figured I would stop by while we're on a break." He said and smiled.

You lit up at his voice, turning over to him. "Hey! Yeah, come on over." You said and stood up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I've been asked a lot about you today. Hard keeping all my feelings in, especially when you aren't here to mess with all day." You teased.

He chuckled and gave you a gentle smile. "Hard to keep in? We could always give someone an exclusive, tell them about us." He said, wiggling his eyebrows as he squeezed your waist. "I would like to compliment my amazing co-star... and partner... too." He said quietly and looked into your eyes.

"You mean it?" You asked, almost bouncing on your heels in anticipation.

"Of course, baby. I don't want you keeping those feelings in." He teased, rubbing your waist.

You leaned up, kissing him gently as you smiled against his lips. "Let's tell that one interviewer... works for the BBC." You said and thought for a moment.

"Ahh.. You're talking about Ali Plumb? Yeah, I like his interviews. We'll give him the exclusive. And not tell our managers. It'll be fun." He said and winked at you, pecking your lips.

"Would you mind grabbing the producer and combining the rest of our interviews today?" You asked your manager, who nodded then left to grab them. "You sure about this?" You asked Chris, looking back up at him.

"Yes. I'm sure. I love you, and I would like for the whole world to know." He said, placing another kiss on your lips while he held you close.

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449 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years ago

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Training Wheels - Three

Pairing: Dark!Step-Brother!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader

Summary: Your stepbrother would do anything for you. And he’s more than happy to prove that over and over and over again until you believe him. No matter what it takes.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Violence, Injuries, Death, Smut,

Word Count: 2.7K

A/n: Here’s part three y’all. And the final for this baby. Hope you enjoy! I loved this series so much.

!!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT! 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

~*~

“Hey kiddo, how you feeling? Steve told us you were sick.” You look over at your stepbrother in confusion for a moment before smiling a tight smile at Bucky.

“I feel better now. He got me some medicine so I’m doing better now.” Steve bites his bottom lip in a pathetic attempt at hiding his smile but Bucky sees right through it, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“So what’s the plan tonight? You guys hosting movie night now that the parents are gone or...?” Bucky trails off, hand on his car keys as you approach the parking lot. You and Steve exchange glances, his brows raised in question, asking you if you’re okay with that and you only shrug in reply.

“Yeah, sure. You guys can come by whenever.” Steve’s hand finds your lower back, ushering you to his car, and you flinch out from under his touch subconsciously.

A frown finds his face but he says nothing, instead, he gets in the car and drives silently back to your house.

He doesn’t turn his car off when you pull into the driveway. He turns to you instead, frown still very present on his pink lips.

“What’s wrong, Bunny?” You swallow hard, not wanting to tell him what the problem is but knowing you should.

“I uh, I’m just a little jumpy after what happened with Rumlow. It’s not you, Steve and I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on it but-” “No, Bunny. Don’t you dare try and apologize for what that bastard did to you, okay? I’m not mad at you at all.” He sighs heavily, hating seeing you in pain, emotional or physical.

“I should kill him for what he did to you. He’s a piece of shit and he’s gonna get what’s coming for him, whether that’s by my hand or someone else's.” You nod, avoiding his eyes.

“Bunny, look at me. Please.” You reluctantly obey, eyes full of vulnerability and pain and he feels his heart start to ache.

“It’s okay. I’m here for you, Bunny, no matter what. We’re gonna get through this, okay?” You nod again, sniffling then scrubbing a stray tear off of your cheek.

He pulls the keys from the ignition and opens his door, trying desperately to control his anger. He needs to keep a level head for you. He needs to be your rock, your pillar, and he’s going to be.

He can deal with Rumlow later.

~*~

You’re curled up on the couch, head against Steve’s shoulder and a bowl of popcorn in your lap while Nat and Bucky take a similar position on the other side of the couch.

‘Run’ plays on the flatscreen, Nat’s choice of course.

You’re engrossed in the film, watching Sarah Paulson’s incredible acting, when your phone vibrates against your foot.

You glance down, grabbing it with furrowed brows.

'Unknown Number’.

You type in your password and open the message, your heart racing in your chest and your face falling.

You slam the phone down and launch off the couch, knocking the popcorn onto the floor in your haste.

Your feet bring you to the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you as you begin to hyperventilate, anxiety coursing through your veins.

The three on the couch exchange confused glances, Nat pausing the movie and reaching for your phone.

As soon as the screen is lit up her face contorts with fury.

“(Y/n)!” She’s off the couch and running to the bathroom, knocking gently on the door and whispering soothing words through the wood.

Bucky and Steve both look at your phone, the blond grabbing it first only to put it right back down.

Bucky’s curiosity is through the roof as he picks up your phone, his own anger levels rising as he sees the lewd photos sent to you.

All of them are of you drugged and on the bed, on the night Rumlow tried taking advantage of you.

When Bucky looks back up, Steve’s on his feet grabbing his keys, a dangerously calm look on his face.

“Steve wait! Pal, don’t do anything you’ll regret. Please, for (Y/n).” Steve pauses at the front door, one hand on the doorknob.

“It’s too late for that, Buck. You take care of her, okay? No matter what happens.” He doesn't give his friend any time to reply. No, he’s out the door and in his car in a flash, eyes focused on the familiar route to Rumlow’s frat house.

The dark road and the silence in the car do nothing to calm his anger, and Steve seethes silently, the car rolling slowly to a halt when he sees someone stumbling on the side of the road.

Luck seems to be on his side tonight, he muses, pulling off to the side and putting the car in park.

The drunk is far too gone to notice the blond man, and Steve uses that to his advantage.

He grabs Rumlow by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and stepping aside so he can fall flat on his ass.

Steve’s fist raises then hammers down, knocking the man unconscious with a single punch.

Rage fuelling him, he shoves Rumlow’s unconscious body into his car and gets behind the wheel, steering himself to the outskirts of the city, nothing but dark thoughts on his mind.

~*~

You slowly emerge from the bathroom, Nat’s arms wrapped tightly around your figure.

“Where’s Steve?” You ask, eyes puffy from crying.

Bucky looks down, shaking his head.

“I tried to stop him, (Y/n), I really did. Tried calling the bastard a million times but he just won’t pick up.” You’re confused. He should be here to comfort you, not out somewhere.

“Where did he go?” The brunet doesn’t answer, eyes focused on a scratch on the hardwoods.

“James, where did he go?” He still says nothing, prepared to deal with the wraith of the redhead later. But what he isn't prepared for is the broken way you look at him, wondering where the blond went.

“Bucky please, I just want him to be okay. Please.” The way your voice cracks has Bucky caving.

“I don’t know for sure, but I think he’s gone to find Rumlow and give him a piece of his mind. He... He told me to take care of you. I’ve got no idea what he’s gonna do but I know it’s not good.”

Your mind is made up before he’s done talking.

You grab your keys and your phone, typing in Steve’s name and pressing the device to your ear while sprinting out to your car.

It goes straight to voicemail, and you feel sick to your stomach.

You try again, one hand on the steering wheel and the other pulling up Steve’s contact info, finding his location swiftly.

Eyes darting between your phone and the road, you set up your maps to bring you to him, hoping he hasn’t done anything rash yet.

You drive far faster than you should, running more than a few stop signs and speeding through every yellow light you get.

Your map takes you to the very edge of the city, where the lights are less blinding and the stars shine vibrant and bright.

Trees are thick on either side of you, and your heart is in your throat as you approach a parked car.

In the distance, you can see the yellow hue of a fire, and you have to swallow hard to gather your courage.

You put your car in park with shaky hands and leave the vehicle, taking slow steps past Steve’s car and towards the fire.

A figure is kneeling in front of the roaring flames, and you need to bring your hand to your nose at the putrid smell.

“Steve?” You call, your voice shaking with fear.

The man in front of the fire doesn't move, and your fingers fiddle with the small bottle of pepper spray on your keychain.

“Steve?” You ask again, approaching slowly. A familiar blond head of hair stands out against the flames and you speed up, crouching down next to him.

“Steve?” His eyes are focused intently on the fire in front of him, not answering you. Hardly even noticing your presence.

You glance down, horror filling you as you see the blood covering his hands and clothes.

“Steve, what did you do?”

He doesn’t look away from the fire, and you follow his gaze, hands coming up to cover your mouth as you see the outline of a human body.

“I told him what would happen. He didn’t believe me. Now he’ll never be able to hurt you again.” Tears well up in your eyes and you choke on a sob, shaking your head.

“Steve...” He slowly turns to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes now glazed over and distant.

“Why?” He reaches for you, bloody hand finding yours.

“I told you, Bunny. I’ll always protect you. Always. Because I love you.” He looks away from you, down to his hands and then over at the fire.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I do. And I can’t help it.” You take a few deep breaths then tug on his shirt.

“We need to burn this, Steve. Wipe your hands on it to clean the blood off then throw it in the fire. We need to clean you up and burn everything.” He cocks his head to the side, following your directions in slight confusion.

He cleans as much blood off as he can then throws his shirt into the flames.

“Why are you helping me?” He asks, brows furrowed.

You sigh and sit down in front of him, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks.

“Because I love you too. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

His face softens, hands coming up and tracing your cheek.

“I’m sorry I ever left you that night, Bunny. I’m so fucking sorry I left.” Tears find their way down his face, his bottom lip quivering. He grabs handfuls of your shirt and folds in half, shoving his face against your thighs, sobs shaking his shoulders.

You rake your fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him as much as you can while he cries his sorrows out.

“I-I should’ve been there! I just... I just l-left you and h-he...” He trails off, pulling away to look at your face.

“I’ll never forgive myself for that... never.” You shush him gently, wiping the tears off of his cheeks.

“It’s okay, Steve. I’ll forgive you enough for the both of us.” He sniffles and stares up at you with wide eyes.

“It’s okay, Steve. I promise. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He launches up, lips finding yours in a searing kiss that takes the air from your lungs.

You lose your balance and tumble onto your back in the dirt, Steve’s lisp staying on yours as he follows you down.

He knees his way between your legs, hands grasping at whatever they can find in a pathetic attempt at keeping himself grounded.

His hips grind down against yours, hard length pressed tightly against your core through the few layers of clothing between the two of you.

“S-Steve wait, we shouldn’t stay here...” He ignores you, only kisses down your throat, nipping harshly at a few places, determined to leave his mark on you

“I need you, Bunny. Right here, right now.” You know you should fight but you can’t bring yourself to.

He feels so good against you, his lips, his hands... it’s bliss.

His hands are in your pants, yanking them down your legs and tossing them aside. While he’s focused on that, you tear your shirt and bra off, needing to feel his skin against yours.

It only takes him a moment to rid himself of his pants, and then he’s rubbing his hard length through your warm wet folds, coating himself in your essence.

His chest is pressed tightly against yours, his warmth contrasting beautifully with the cold earth against your back.

His lips find yours, not so much of a kiss but more of an act of intimacy.

“You ready for me? Huh, Bunny?” His breath is hot against your mouth, and you moan in response, hands gripping his strong shoulders as he slides through your folds.

“Please,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut.

One of his hands reaches down between the two of you, lining himself up with your entrance.

He pushes inside you slowly, face pulled back a bit to watch the look of bliss cover your features.

“Oh, Steve...” A primal lust spreads through his body at the absolute rawness of fucking his little sister in the middle of the woods.

Your legs come up and lock around his waist, tugging him deeper with every animalistic thrust of his hips.

Desperate moans fall from your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head as he fucks you hard, each thrust hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

The sound of skin slapping against skin, mixed with the sloppy wet sounds where the two of you are connected only adds to your high.

The smell of sex invades your nostrils, more pleasant than that of the fire, and you crunch upwards, tongue darting out and licking a thick strip up Steve’s neck.

He groans low and guttural in the back of his throat, head dropping down and lips finding yours again, picking up the pace and fucking you harder.

You moan against his mouth, fingernails digging into his thick shoulders as he stakes his claim on you, ruins you over and over again for anyone else. His cock pistons in and out of you, never ceasing, never slowing, and you can’t hold back.

The coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens... then snaps harder than ever before.

Your back arches, mouth agape as your climax washes over you.

It only spurs Steve on.

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head in one of his large hands, supporting his weight on his opposite forearm and using his other hand to use your shoulder for leverage, sending you back down on his cock to meet his every thrust.

His face is scrunched up, the clenching of your silky walls around his hot length bringing him so much closer to the edge, but he doesn’t want to cum just yet. No, he wants to prolong it a little bit more.

He switches his position, keeping your arms pinned over your head, but kneels between your thighs instead of laying down, using his newly freed hand to grab your throat.

A moan slips past your lips, eyes shut tightly as every thrust sends fireworks to your swollen clit.

“S-Steve I can’t... I can’t...” You babble nonsense, and he almost chuckles.

“Poor Bunny... getting fucked stupid by your big brother, huh? Letting me fuck you ‘till you’re nothing more than a dumb baby? My dumb baby? Yeah, my stupid fucking Bunny.” You nod dumbly, mouth dropping open as he cuts off your air.

He leans down and spits on your face, a sick grin tugging at his lips seeing you covered in something of his.

He can't wait to cover you in his cum.

You clamp down against him again, toes pointing and legs squeezing his waist impossibly tight.

“Fucking Christ, Bunny! Gonna make me blow my load. You want that? Want me to cum in your cute little pussy? Huh? Answer me!” You pry your eyes open and nod desperately, struggling to form a sentence.

“Alright, Princess. I’ll cream this cute little pussy of yours. Make a real nice mess of you. M’gonna give you a baby, Bunny. Gonna make you a mommy, watch you swell all nice and round.”

He leans down, teeth nipping at your earlobe.

“And you’re all mine. Aren’t you?” You nod desperately, your poor abused pussy fluttering around his cock as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“M’all yours. Only yours, Steve.” He bites down on the soft skin on your neck, groaning lowly as his hips slow, thrusts becoming erratic before ceasing completely.

Warmth fills you, a beautiful fullness that starts where you and he are connected so intimately.

He presses his forehead against yours after a long moment, releasing your hands and relaxing into you as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to your body.

“I love you, Steve,” you whisper, holding onto him like he’s your rock and you’ll float away if he isn't there.

“I love you too, Bunny. You’re mine. No one else’s ever gonna touch you again.”

#stepbrother!Steve Rogers x reader #step brother!Steve X reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x reader dark fic #Steve Rogers x reader dark au #step brother au #Steve Rogers x reader step brother au #step siblings au #Steve X innocent!reader #Steve Rogers x innocent!reader #dark fic #dark au #tw dark themes #tw dubcon #tw murder

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holylulusworld · 2 years ago

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Barnes vs Barnes (7) - Zero

Summary: The unavoidable happened. What will Bucky do now?

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Ex-Wife Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Steve Rogers, Nick Fowler, Matt Murdoch

Warnings: angst, mentions of infertility, strong reader, mentions of past cheating, Lloyd being Lloyd

A/N: Please be aware this is an AU. Bucky is an ass and OOC in this story.

Barnes vs Barnes masterlist

<< Part 6

“Doll, I was worried about you. Where have you been?” Bucky jumps up from his seat. He’s about to hug you when Lloyd and Steve step in front of you. “Baby doll.”

“Sir. Mr. Barnes,” Matt clears his throat to draw Bucky’s attention toward him, “we came here to discuss your separation. No hugging my client. No touching my client. Not talking directly to my client.”

“She’s my wife,” your husband growls at Matt. It’s worse enough that his best friend seems to be on your side, and that he knew exactly where you are hiding from your husband. Suddenly, he is being told how to behave around his wife by some strangers. “If I want to talk to her, I’ll talk. If I wish to touch her, I will touch her.”

“No. You won’t,” Steve pats the gun hidden under his jacket. “Buck, don’t make this harder for Y/N. She has been through enough because of you, don’t you think?”

Bucky glances at you as he says, "We are still...I love her. Y/N let’s talk in private. I know I fucked up again, but I love you. Please.”

“There’s nothing left to say, James,” you use his first name on purpose. Another jab at his aching heart. “You knew this would break me beyond repair. Still, you went home with that woman and fucked her. You even wanted to raise her child with her. How could you? How?”

You blink a few times to push the tears away. “It was a moment of weakness, doll. Natasha means nothing to me. You know that. I hate myself for hurting you.”

“And weeks of lying to me,” you huff. “We could have it all, Bucky.” You step next to Steve to look your husband straight in the eyes. “It was you who decided that what we had didn’t matter. That I didn’t matter. The moment Natasha stepped back into your life you fell for her. Again. Just like you did back then.”

“Baby…I…” Bucky shakes his head. He can’t accept that he won’t have you in his life anymore.

“Save it, James,” you say, standing your ground against your husband. “I will not forgive you this time. After everything I gave up for you. I could’ve been happy with someone else. But you made me come back only to break me again.”

“I can still give you a baby. We can fix this,” he says as he paces the room like a caged animal. “I love you. You love me. We can save our marriage.”

“I don’t want to,” you shrug when Bucky snaps his head toward you. His face falls as the woman he knew doesn’t look back at him. It’s a different woman. A new one. Reborn through fire and pain. “And according to the rumors I heard, you can’t give me a baby. You are the failure here, Bucky. Not me.”

“What? No,” Bucky shakes his head, remembering the trauma he endured thanks to his brother. “The doctor said all is fine…they said…no…”

“Well, your parents lied,” you hold back a chuckle. You are not like this. “If only you had gone to the doctor as I suggested. It wasn’t my fault. I guess fate doesn't want us to have children.”

“How do you know?” he asks. “Only four people knew what happened back then. Two of them are dead, and the other one…”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Guess the cats out,” Lloyd smirks darkly. “You’re lucky Steve was around when that asshat tried to grab Y/N. If not, both of you would be six feet under already.”

“Lloyd,” you warn.

“Sugar plum, let me stab him a little,” Lloyd grins as you roll your eyes. He won't stop bugging you. “Please. I got all these nice knives…”

“Nick is back in town." Bucky's legs are about to give in when he hears his brother is back in town. “He knows about you. I got to keep you safe.”

He holds out his hand. “She’s got me,” Steve shoves you behind his back. He makes sure Bucky knows that this time he won’t back down for his friend’s sake. “I gave up my chance on her for you once. I won’t do it again.”

“Gentlemen, the lady is right here,” Matt chastises. “We came here for a reason.”

Lloyd hums. He already imagines stabbing Bucky in the back, or ass. Whatever body part he can reach first.

“No stabbing, Lloyd,” you warn.

“Why did you tell me he’s back?” Bucky asks. "Using this to your advantage would have been a smart idea. If he kills me, everything I own will be yours.”

“I’m better than this,” you snap at Bucky. “Unlike you and your brother, I don’t take advantage of people. Whatever messed up shit is going on between you and Nick, I don’t want to get involved in this. I love you, so I see this as my way of saying goodbye. I don’t want you to die, but I don’t want you in my life either.”

“So, this is the end," Bucky swallows thickly.

He could never have imagined that you would turn your back on him forever. He knew what he did hurt you deeply, and you needed time to forgive him.

“This is the end, James,” you say as you hold his gaze. “I cannot trust you anymore. Not with my heart, and not with my life. You hid that you had a brother. If not for Steve, I would be in Nick’s hands. Held hostage or worse. All you did was lie. Our marriage is one big lie.”

“You should leave talking to the lawyers now,” Matt interjects. “I came here for a reason, Mr. Barnes. Let’s settle this now. You don’t want to make things more difficult for Y/N. Right?”

“I-Y/N, baby doll,” Bucky pleads one last time. “Please talk to me. We can still…”

“James don’t be ridiculous,” you sneer. “There is nothing worth saving. Our marriage is over. We are over. I have zero tolerance for your behavior. Matt will handle everything else. Lloyd will stay with him to make sure you act like a gentleman around my friend.”

“Doll…please.”

You turn around, not looking back as you walk out of the room. Steve follows you hot on your heels. Since your encounter with Nick, he has been by your side.

“That was…you were…I mean…”

“Can we just leave?" you ask. “I don’t know for how long I can keep myself from crying, Steve.”

“Of course, darling.”

Steve would like to wrap his arms around you. But he knows the last thing you need is another man fighting for your attention.

“Bucky looks awful.”

“He’s a mess without you,” Steve says softly.

“Good. I hope he regrets breaking my heart for the rest of his life.”

“What will we do about his brother now?” he looks at you. “Do you want me to take him down?”

“I don’t know yet,” you sigh. “He won’t give up so easily. Just like Bucky. He kept it together today. But I know my husband. He’ll try to get me back. No matter what.”

“No welcome back brother or a hug,” Nick smirks. He leans back in Bucky’s chair as his brother steps into his office.

“How did you get in here?” Bucky growls.

“Your men let me in. We still have the same face, remember? It was child’s play to get inside your home,” he dips his head to look Bucky up and down. “No wonder your wife ran for the hills. You lost weight and look like crap. I bet she will choose a real man. Someone who can give her a baby.”

“So, it’s true, you threatened my wife.”

Nick is unimpressed when his brother gets his gun out. Laughing about Bucky, he looks amused. “I did not threaten your sweet wife. I offered to look after her. I bet she didn’t get a good—”

A bullet hits the wall next to Nick’s head. “You will keep her out of this. I did enough damage to her heart.”

"I will do whatever I want to do with your sweet wife.”

Nick slowly gets up from the chair. He grabs the wedding portrait of you and Bucky, smirking as his brother fires another bullet into the wall.

“I will kill you if you try to get close to her again.”

“If you wanted to kill me, I’d be dead by now. We both know you cannot kill your own brother…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes x reader #mobster!bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #lloyd hansen #matt murdock #steve rogers #Barnes vs Barnes (7) - Zero #nick fowler

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onsunnyside · 3 years ago

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φ⌎ 𝟏. 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | dark alpha!fratboy!Steve Rogers x omega sorority!reader (dark A/B/O college AU)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | DARK themes/elements, A/B/O dynamics, 6’6” Steve, mean!Steve, manipulation, (little bit of) soft!DARK, misogyny (within A/B/O designations), assault, sexual tension, scenting, SMUT - minors DNI, non-con to dub-con, coercion, fingering (f), dirty talk, daddy kink, size difference, degradation, dumbification, choking, spitting, p*ssy slapping, squirting, grinding (dry humping, bulge riding), spanking, (a hint of) dacryphilia (but not really, he does lick tears though), humiliation, major power imbalance, possessive behaviour

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It’s hell week at Howard College and Arcadia Phi has traded their pledges for the fresh faces of Kappa Phi, and you’re one of them. Based off this ask.

𝗪/𝗖 | 9.88K

𝗔/𝗡 | here we go ! and because this is me, the frat is full of familiar characters. I made up the frat/sorority names, steve gives me bully vibes (a bully to other people) but it’s just him acting all high and mighty bc he’s an alpha. pls don’t ask me about frat/sorority chapters, i’m making things up/changing things in this fic. all mistakes are my own. this is a dark fic, the warnings have been given—if you don’t like it, don’t read.

˗ˏˋ𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A loud banging on the door makes you jump before you blindly scramble for your clothes. Squinting is useless in the darkness, but you make out the vague shadow looming from under the door as an unmistakable musk follows. It’s woody and smokey, and has been burnt into your brain the moment you walked into the frat house.

“What’s taking so long, legacy! Those floorboards aren’t going to scrub themselves.” A deep voice booms, followed by another round of knocks as the doorknob rattles. “You better come out before we come in.”

“Let her hide, Bucky.” Someone else laughs, “We’ll see how long until Steve breaks the door down.”

You swing open the door, “I wasn’t hiding.” You correct in irritation, holding your clothes to your chest.

“Awfully suspicious amount of time in there then. You know, some girls just got changed out in the open.” Another man quips, his cardigan hanging over his shoulders, “Why couldn’t you do the same, sweetheart? Are you shy?”

“Bryce, shut up.” The blond on your right speaks up, no longer a silent observer.

You meet those clear blue eyes that have been drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Almost subconsciously, you take a step backwards to put some distance between the two of you.

Steve is leaning on the wall, his thick arms crossed over his defined chest, the seams of his t-shirt nearly burst as he flexes. “Why did you take so long?”

You uncomfortably shift as dozens of leers fall on you, searing straight through the skimpy maid costume. “The lightbulb went out and I couldn’t see.” You tug on the back of the dress, hoping to save at least an ounce of your dignity.

The alpha stares at you a minute longer, analyzing your features before snapping his fingers. “One of you get on the counter and change the light.”

A girl your age surges forward, a bright and suave smile on her face as she passes the frat brothers. You keep your head up and slip out of the dark bathroom.

A warmth ghosts your arm, a slow Brooklyn drawl following suit, “Better get with the others, legacy.”

After tucking away your clothes, you sink back into the small crowd of girls, each of you is clad in your costumes. Varying in colour combinations, but all in the same style, right down to the little lace apron around your waists.

The volunteer from earlier returns, a skip in her step as she takes position front and centre, she’s one of the few girls completely comfortable in these circumstances.

Steve walks forward, exchanging a few words with a brunet alpha. You scan over his body, begrudgingly admiring the way his shirt clings to his biceps, well-built chest and tapering to his thin waist. Finally, you reach his long legs and thick thighs outlined by his dark jeans, but before your eyes can go rogue, you feel a nudge.

Wanda is smiling cheekily. “The pictures didn’t do him justice, right?”

You briefly recall the various photos plastered on the school’s website and social media—Steve Rogers, one of the most prominent figures at Howard College. Most known for being the captain of the football team and the vice president of his fraternity, which itself was exclusively for male alphas, leading to a rowdy bunch of men with egos the size of the moon.

You turn to Wanda and lie, “I don’t remember them.”

The beta looks unconvinced, as expected. Ever since you met her last year, she’s been able to read you like an open book, those inquisitive green eyes peeking through your brain to read the thoughts you haven’t organized yourself. Although, you’ve grown used to her poking and prodding, in an endearing way.

Glancing around at the other pledges, they’re all wearing the same hazy expression, utterly taken by the gods of campus a few feet away.

“You seem a little affected despite not remembering…” She trails off, wiggling her nose.

Your eyes widen and your arms wrap around you. “Really!”

“No, but now I know you were lying.” She replies smugly, flipping her long auburn hair over her shoulder. “As if I could pick you out amongst these ones.”

You deflate, thankful your body hadn’t proven that stereotype right—that omegas are sensual fiends and just easy toys—yet another conception that has haunted you for your whole life.

A loud clap echoes through the room, and everyone’s attention snaps to Steve. He’s taller and bigger than his frat brothers, naturally domineering every other person in the room as he slowly paces. “Welcome to Arcadia Phi, ladies, it’s a good thing you’re all easy on the eyes.” He pauses in front of one girl, frowning, “Almost all of you.”

The eruption of laughter makes you cower backwards, your chest aching for the poor girl. Steve was living up to his reputation as clear as day—the vain, cruelly praised star who couldn’t do any wrong, but on the off chance he did, no one would care. His high and mighty designation and status blind any accountability. You’ve only heard a handful of rumours where people disagreed with him, and only a few actually spoke up about it, but you don’t know what happened after the fact.

Who knows what these ruthless alphas are capable of?

The sons of other alphas who have had the world on a silver platter since their presentation. Taking over society with a snap of their fingers as everyone falls to their knees—in submission or fear.

You hated it, but it’s also all you’ve ever known. A little bit of hope sparks in your chest, a faint perhaps things will change. In your past year at this college, you’ve been blessed to avoid the inevitable consequences that come with being a young, unclaimed omega. The disrespect and objectification, and the horror stories of assault and things even worse.

It hurts even more because of your current predicament, dressed in the most scandalous outfit for the pleasure of these men.

It was unfair to be blessed to not face challenges that no one should ever come across. And, that perhaps burns brighter every time you daydream about a life without any struggles or hardships, where your thoughts and words matter, where your voice can be heard and not disregarded solely based on what you are.

Everyone else was given a chance to be something when they presented, for omegas, it was the opposite. The opportunities slip from your grasp before you can even consider them. Truly doomed by your predestined fate. A mere passenger to the life already written for you.

Howard College has stated multiple times that they’re all for omega rights, but their efforts and representation within the board and council are severely lacking. Their words are silenced by their actions, only confirming their true beliefs.

You weren’t surprised.

It was an awful reflection of society itself. The divide gets thicker every day, between alphas, betas and omegas. Alphas and betas were more common than omegas—but that didn’t halt any ill-treatment, it never did and you dread it never will. Growing up, you’ve heard stories about omega trafficking, and that in some places, breeding programs are still legalized and it’s mandatory for omegas to be claimed within five years of presenting.

At least you weren’t in any of those pieces of hell on earth.

Unfortunately, worldwide, omega rights are nothing but an afterthought. Something to consider after everything else has been handled and stabilized, only when there is care and consideration to spare.

Being at the bottom of the barrel, nothing you say or do could help—so you bite your tongue, tugging at your skirt. God, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. The audacity and self-entitlement radiating from the men across the room were suffocating. But a voice in your head warns you to steer clear of the fratboys who are notorious for coining the term; omega slut walk.

The vice president stops in front of your side of the group, looming over a beta. When he flashes a charming smile, she sighs dreamily, “A few of you are quite pleasing to look at.”

Some of the girls giggle, flirtatiously fluttering their lashes.

Steve stops short, “I didn’t say I want to hear any of you.” He raises his hand as silence takes over, “That’s better. Just look pretty and do what we say, all right? Then, you’ll all be in our sister sorority.” He pauses, a short test for any rulebreakers, but there aren’t any and he nods in approval.

“Now, ladies, this house hasn’t been deep cleaned in a while.” He stands with his feet spread shoulder-width apart, “So, be thorough, be quiet unless you’re spoken to, and I’ll put in a good word with Maria. Got it?” Everyone silently nods. “You can speak.”

“Yes, Steve.” You all say at once.

The blond cockily grins at his friends. “Good girls, now, line up for your supplies.” He gestures to the kitchen.

The group of you move towards the doorway in a neat line, lips sealed tight as the fratboys talk amongst themselves. Some outrightly compliment the fit of the costumes, their muffled lewd comments make your cheeks heat up.

“Where’s Ari?” One of the betas asks, she’s at the end of the line with her arms crossed over her chest. “He’s the president, why isn’t he here?”

The tall blond quirks a brow, “Last time I checked, his whereabouts isn’t something you need to know.”

“You can’t give orders—I heard Maria made the deal with Ari, not you.”

Steve clears his throat, an unnerving gaze locked on her face. It drags on long enough that the line has completely stalled until someone pushes ahead. Now, you and Wanda stand by the kitchen doorway. You glance back again, and Steve hasn’t moved, neither has the girl—and it’s a flicker, barely noticeable from where you stand, but she slightly recoils. And, like that, Steve pounces.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get your pledge redacted.” His voice booms as he tilts his head, “Was it worth opening your mouth, beta?”

“I—”

“Curtis, open the door.” The brunet with a buzzcut clicks open the lock, welcoming the afternoon sun as a fresh breeze blows through, but it’s futile against the tension. “Go on, walk out. Leave because you’d rather speak than join Kappa Phi.”

The girl looks at everyone else, wordlessly begging for a saviour, a courageous person to stand up against the vice president but no one does. You’re all either too afraid or too infatuated to even dare and hopelessly, she leaves. Gathering her belongings and slowly walking out of the frat house.

“Maybe we should call this the stupid beta walk.” The man from earlier, Bryce scoffs.

It’s quite comedic watching the other alphas collectively sigh, as if they’re only aware of the doucheness when Bryce opens his mouth. It wouldn’t surprise you if that’s why they kept him around, to make them look better because even within their designations, alphas need to be the absolute best.

With an ego so vast it made room for a new one, blooming from right in the centre.

One of the other brothers pulls Steve aside, he’s the one who was banging on the bathroom door. Bucky is almost as tall as Steve but his hair is longer and darker. Their build is similar, packed with muscles straining against their clothes but Bucky’s skin is slightly more tanned.

Everyone takes turns gathering supplies; some grab a bottle of cleaner and a rag, others take a small bucket and a sponge. You’re one of the last ones and take a sponge and bucket, dipping your finger in the warm water as you retreat to the small group of girls. All of the different scents overwhelm your nose, ranging from antiseptic to bitter to intensely sweet, the betas surrounding you shake with anticipation.

Alphas give each of you tasks all around the house. Some are sent back to the kitchen, the living room or one of the bathrooms. You’re all dismissed with alphas to keep an eye on you, supervisors to bark out demands.

You’re following a few girls to the living room, then settling into a corner, dipping the sponge in the bucket before scrubbing the discolouration on the floorboards. It’s probably a spill from one of their legendary parties.

As you halfheartedly listen to the alphas talk to each other and the occasional vile comment, you remind yourself why you’re doing this.

Wanda’s gleaming face appears in your head, her eyes lighting up at the thought of belonging to the sorority, Kappa Phi, one of the best for betas and omegas—although there have only ever been a few omegas accepted. And unfortunately, you weren’t one of them last year and that’s how you met Wanda, bonding over being rejected from the sorority.

Wanda called Kappa Phi perfect, although not as known as Arcadia Phi. There wasn’t a fraternity like it, with the most celebrity alums and best leaders with successful lives. Sometimes you wonder how those self-serving souls were gifted with great lives, then you realize that’s how society treats alphas—feeding into their hunger, fueling their greed and egos.

Just like that, Wanda’s face transforms into your mother’s disappointed frown, the same one she wore when you told her the news last year.

“Legacy.” A voice singsongs, “Cap would like to speak to you.”

“I can speak for myself.” Steve pushes off the wall. Anxiety scatters your thoughts, because you didn’t know he was there.

Steve can make his presence known if he wants, which has become very clear since you entered Arcadia Phi. And when he doesn’t, he can seamlessly blend in. You bitterly think about him having a choice. To be seen, to be heard, to be feared—all while you are the unseen, ignored and disregarded, and one who is fearful of people like him.

The most terrifying monsters trick you into believing they aren’t monsters at all. Playing on your trust, only to clamp their fangs in your neck when you least expect it, and yank you into their depths.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Steve was one of those monsters, and you were positive he knew he was too.

“Are you sure? All you’ve done is stare at her like a piece of meat.” A dark-haired man speaks up, his sweater sleeves rolled up while the ring and bracelet glimmer against his pale skin.

“Actually, you two stand up.” Steve’s lips are pressed in a firm line. The girl next to you stands, her blond hair in a low ponytail and her green eyes narrowed. “You go upstairs to the first door on the left, and you,” Steve cocks his head, his gaze unabashedly dragging over your body and lingering on your breasts, “You’ll clean my room.”

The girl walks away with confidence, ignoring the alphas who praise the fit of her costume. With a straightened posture, you follow after her, facing forward with the wet sponge in your hand. Steve stands by the bottom of the stairs, emanating a force that both lures and repels you.

“What’s your name?” His hand falls to your waist like it’s been there a million times before, the warmth sinking through your clothes.

You tell him your name as you stop at the last door on the right. It’s strikingly different from the rest, as if it were painted with a fresh coat of white, it stood out among the busted, stained or cracked doors. Your reflection shines in the doorknob, distorted with visible unease over your features.

His arm brushes yours as he unlocks the door, the key slipping out before he dangles it in front of your face.

“I like my privacy. My brothers tend to just do whatever they want.”

The door slowly swings open, as silent as a breath of air. The walls are a dark blue, almost a rich navy and contrasting against the blinding white bedspread, the sheets wrinkled and half off of the mattress. There’s a desk in the corner cluttered with a shiny laptop, pens and textbooks, as messy as yours back at your dorm. The nightstands are mostly clean, apart from a small stack of books and a lamp on each.

There is an arrangement of paddles on the wall. Some are a plain light wood tone and one, in particular, is a design of red, white and blue, all of them display the same thing; Greek letters, the fraternity crest, along with ‘Big Bro Steve’ above the other name.

The wide window is open, a soft wind flows through, lightly rustling the curtains and the various posters taped on the walls—ranging from school promotions, and fraternity and football related. Nothing beyond that, not even a movie or a band which leads you to believe Steve was as one-dimensional as a sheet of paper—his life revolved around school, his fraternity and football.

Bland, but you had no protests because then he’d be easy to forget. Except, those nerves come rushing back again when you spot something on his four-poster bed. On the metal frame by the fluffy pillows are two pairs of handcuffs, unlocked and glaring at you straight in the face.

“Oops, forgot I left those there.”

The way he speaks makes you think he’s lying. Behind you, Steve dips down and takes a deep breath inches away from your head and growls lowly in his chest. Your toes curl in your shoes as your mind tells you to run far away and never come back, but Wanda’s hopefulness and your mother’s dismay root you into the floor of the house.

You needed a spot in Kappa Phi. Even if that meant risking being scented by an ill-famed alpha.

“Have you ever been handcuffed? I can imagine you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, you like being touched, and touching someone else.” He rasps, “But I have a feeling that you’re better at following rules than others. Putting on this little dress without any complaints, just a polite request to change in the bathroom.”

You clench your jaw when he tugs at the bow of the apron, “Can I just clean?”

You gasp and the water splashes and gets on your dress—it was a costume, made of cheap flimsy material that wouldn’t survive a gust of wind, and it definitely wouldn’t survive a strong alpha like Steve. He has the tie wrapped in his fist, the fabric digs into your front and pulls you into his chest, keeping you firmly against him.

“Did you leave your manners downstairs?” He doesn’t shout, his words are quiet and low and that only makes them more unsettling.

“N-No.” You despise the rapid beating of your heart, your natural instincts kicking in and nearly forcing you under his submission. “I’m sorry, can I please clean?” Your ass brushes over the firm bulge in his pants.

“Pretty, sweet and smart? Makes me wonder how an omega like you is still unmated.” He releases you and he reaches for your scent gland, but you quickly shuffle into his bedroom. Steve just chuckles, “Eager to please too—sounds to me that you’re picture-perfect material.”

“What should I clean first?” You avoid his gaze, finding great interest in the gentle ripples of the water in the bucket. You can’t let him that close again, and you shouldn’t have let him that close in the first place. If he touches your spot, you’d be another notch on his belt and another omega on the slut walk list—because yes, there was a list and it’s plastered in the living room.

It didn’t help that he smells so good, earthy and borderline spell-inducing. He makes you sick to your stomach and then that nausea erupts into flames of rage because he’s an asshole standing on a pedestal with his name etched in gold.

Steve made you feel so many things when you didn’t even know him. When he was just Howard College’s star player, and that hasn’t changed since you’re feet away from him. Those overwhelming and inconsistent feelings have appeared again. You don’t want him to make you feel anything. Except maybe forgotten, because then he’d leave you alone.

“How about you just get on your knees, omega?”

He doesn’t move, taking up more than half of the entryway as he gestures to the moderate mess of his bedroom. You shiver and obey, turning around and spotting a hamper with clothes hanging over the edge, some on the floor. You drop to your knees, gathering each item as his smell encapsulates your mind. You’re briefly reminded of your boring and plain bedroom, and how much better it would look with a nest.

On the walls of your brain are images of a warm and comforting bundle, varying in pillows and blankets, but most notably, there’s a heaping of fabrics that look awful like Steve’s clothes in your hands.

You start to feel sick again, and if only you could scrub your brain instead of the floorboards.

“Ain’t that a pretty view.” Steve crosses his arms, admiring the view of your upper thighs, “Don’t get any ideas, legacy.”

“What?” You toss the clothes into the basket and cover it. Standing once again, you straighten the bottles of cologne and other belongings on his dresser. It’s a little dusty, so you take the sponge from the bucket and wipe it down.

“You might want to snatch something of mine. Wouldn’t be the first time an omega tried to steal from me. I’ve been told I have an irresistible scent, I mean, it’s nothing like yours but could be a runner up.”

You try to focus on your tasks. Going from his nightstands to his closet, hanging up a few clothes that have fallen and organizing the shoes on the rack. You’re kneeling in the closet when one of his fraternity brothers pops up, you ignore them as best you can, sorting the different sneakers, boots and dress shoes.

A loud laugh startles you, making you drop a pair of sneakers.

“Oh, she’s jumpy?” You vaguely remember that voice, you’ve heard him in a few of your lectures.

“She’s cute, right? Like a little bunny.”

Your head snaps back as you glare at Steve. Every moment you spend in his presence makes you want to do something, to be more than a mere bystander, but to an extent because you didn’t want to make him too angry. You still wanted to—needed to join Kappa Phi.

It turns out your heated glare was barely anything, and all you get is a coy wink from the tall blond.

“Honey, are you okay down there?” The older alpha, Andy asks, faint dimples under his thick beard, “You don’t look like the kind to spend a lot of time on your knees.”

You abruptly stand, narrowed gaze set on the two burly men by the door. They have you caged in with a mocking gleam on their faces, daring you to say whatever your little fiery heart desires. Say it, tell them what assholes they are, how they deserve nothing they have—how their self-righteousness is just them making up for their lack of knot.

Fucking say it.

You can feel the frustration buzzing in your chest, but your throat and lips refuse to cooperate, forcing the rest of you to just bubble in silent fury. Opening your mouth would be digging your own grave, but the cold and wet dirt is better than Steve’s and any other alpha’s poisoned presence.

If only you were immune to whatever toxicity was streaming through their veins and draped in their words.

Silently defeated by yourself and their taunting expressions, you turn away and dust your dress, belittling yourself for retreating so quickly.

“Good choice, legacy.” Andy quips, “what else are you willing to do for a spot in Kappa?”

“If I tell you, will it happen?” You busy yourself with Steve’s desk. Organizing the pens and pencils into the mason jar, before moving onto the sheets of paper.

“Depends what it is.”

“I’m willing to redo that law essay you flunked on.” You face them again, and Andy has a surprised, but pleased smile on his face. Steve is the opposite, his eyebrows are furrowed while his lips are pressed in a firm line.

“Yeah? Do you want to tutor me too?”

Steve steps forward, inserting himself between you and the other alpha like a brick wall. “You can’t do a thorough job if you’re distracted. Do you want him to leave?”

You hold the papers to your chest, “Pardon?”

“Tell him, show me that you’re Kappa Phi material.” He smirks. “Tell him to leave us alone, omega.”

The sheets crinkle in your hands as you tense. Speaking back to alphas was only a fantasy, sure you’ve dreamt of kicking their teeth in, but you have never crossed that line.

Omega—he was reminding you of your designation, as if you could forget it. But you knew he only wanted to rub it in, to summon that dread and watch it bleed onto your features because omegas could never tell an alpha what to do and have the same impact of an alpha demanding an omega.

Your words would be nothing but white noise, as forgetful as an advertisement on the radio and no one would listen because no one had to. Not like omegas who bowed down at the first syllable of an alpha using their alpha voice or being subject to a great deal of pain.

You couldn’t tell an alpha what to do, not without looking like a fool, even if it was one as casual and collected as Andy.

“C’mon, I know there’s a little spice in all that sweetness. You’ve wanted to open your mouth since you walked in here, and now I’m permitting you to.” Steve comes closer until he stands a few inches from you, his stature towers over you like a mountain.

“G-Go away.”

Andy chuckles from the door, “What was that?”

Steve grabs your chin, “That’s not what I told you to say, darling.”

You can’t tell if the aching you feel is your pride or your loneliness thriving in the attention—you haven’t been the object of one's attention, alpha or beta, in a very long time.

“Leave us alone, Andy.” You’re frozen in the pools of blue surrounded by thick lashes. As if it weren’t enough for his body to be your wet dream, his face was a work of art. Chiselled cheekbones, strong jaw and a prominent nose. Clear skin sprinkled with freckles and beauty marks, and pink plump lips that stretched into a prince-like smile.

You hated to find him so attractive, but the world has never been on your side anyway.

The brunet pushes off the doorframe, “I guess I’ll check on the other girl in the bathroom. Be gentle with this one, Steve, she seems more delicate than your last toy.”

And, just like that, you’re flung back into reality. Steve is also a player, known for his various relations that never last more than a few weeks. He’s probably been with more than most think. Some are too ashamed for everyone to know that Steve Rogers had them, then dumped them like trash on the side of the road.

Typical Arcadia alphas, plucking people left and right then ditching them when they get bored or when a new spark catches their attention.

You don’t want to be that for Steve. You refuse to be the new object of his affection—because that’s how he’d treat you, something to show off until he doesn’t want you anymore.

Not to mention you just hated everything he stood for.

The easy life, the self-entitlement, privilege and downright mean attitude, selfishness and arrogance rolled into one.

You just need to keep a distance, keep reminding yourself why you’re here and that he’s just a bad man. A terrible man who shouldn’t even be touching you right now. You take a step back and distract yourself with his desk. Filing through the textbooks and setting them on the small shelf.

“I’ve seen you around campus. Do you have a dorm here?”

“I do.” You answer short. You’ve seen him riding his bike and revving the engine. Zooming down the campus streets with a leather or denim jacket. The supposed legend in the making, but right now, he was just the shadow looming over your shoulder, chilling to the bone.

Steve pulls out his desk chair and sits down, relaxing on the cushions and spreading his thighs. His foot knocks yours. “I haven’t had a dorm room, just tried for Arcadia and got in so I’ve lived here for about two years now.”

You just nod, gathering the small bunches of sticky notes and scattered paper clips.

“Those go in the drawer.” He runs a hand through his hair, a twinkle in his eyes.

You open the drawer and are welcomed with strips of condoms and tubes of lube. Your cheeks go hot as you drop the items in and slam it shut. “Those should be in your nightstand.”

“Oh, I have them there too. These are just backups.” Steve’s gaze rakes over you as his tongue pokes out to lick his lips. “You tried to get into Kappa last year.”

You’re doing this for Wanda and your mother, and you need to try even harder than you did last year. Maybe after this, your mother will finally return your calls, you can only hope that one day, she’ll recognize the wrongness in her actions. Pushing you away only because you didn’t get into her old sorority. Whether Kappa Phi didn’t accept you because of your designation or other reasons, it’s not fair of her to treat you this way.

“Unlike Arcadia, Kappa is quite easy to get into. They’ll accept anyone like every other frat or sorority on campus.” Steve rolls his eyes, “So, it makes me curious as to why you were denied, legacy.”

“Can you not call me that?” And you quickly add, “Please?”

“That’s what you are. Your mother was in Kappa Phi, and now you’re going to be in it too—maybe, I can still redact your pledge but I wouldn’t want to make momma-legacy upset. Does she know you’re trying again?”

“She would if she answered my calls.”

Steve is quiet for a few seconds before he nods slowly. You grab the sponge and try to move away, but he grabs your wrist, pulling you to stand between his legs. “What’d you do to not get in? Sleep with another girl's partner? Hook up with a professor for some extra credit?”

You scowl. “None of that.”

“My brothers and I have a theory that every omega is a whore until proven innocent.”

You stiffen as his other hand fiddles with the lace hem of your dress, slipping between the first layer to the second and finally to your skin. His fingers trail higher, and you clamp your thighs together, glazing at the open door as his grip on your wrist tightens. You want him to let go and stop, so you say the one thing that has been in your head, “You’re an asshole.”

The second those words leave your mouth, a fresh wave of relief combs over you, but then it freezes like water. The realization is icy cold, stilling in your veins and halting your breath.

“What was that?” He moves fast and stands, crowding you against the desk. The water drips down your elbow as you raise your arms and try to keep him at bay, but it’s useless. He presses against you, the water seeping into his shirt.

“An asshole—am I mean? Like your mother who’s ignoring you because you didn’t get into a sorority?” Steve asks, “I can be much worse than that, and I think you know that.”

He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he’s close enough that you can see every shade of blue and tint of green in his eyes. His lips are so pink and pillowy soft, you can’t help but lean into his touch like a magnetic force. “You’re looking at me like I’m going to hurt you.”

It’s instinctual and completely out of your control. The warmth he radiates, the raw power and just alpha compelling you. You realize you’ve been fighting him since you met him, and as vigorously as you resisted, he could turn you to mush with a flutter of his eyes.

He hums softly, drinking down your smell like a man starved. When his gaze meets yours again, the iris is a thin ring around the pupil. “And, I just might.” His white teeth gleam maliciously behind a simper.

You snap out of whatever fleeting spell he had you under and inch backwards, willing yourself to stay silent. He steps forward, his thigh slipping between yours and pinning you against the desk.

“I won’t hurt a pretty omega like you unless you give me a reason to.” His Brooklyn twang rings in your ears, drilling the threat into your brain. “So, don’t give me one.”

You nod wordlessly, gripping the sponge so tightly that all the water was gone, and probably on Steve’s shirt and your dress. You can’t move to check because he keeps you in place, provoking you to make a wrong move.

And, unknowingly, you did and Steve sighs in disappointment, you find yourself searching your mind for the cause of it—before a round of cheers grab your attention. Your face slips from Steve’s hold before he grips you again, this time with your chin between his knuckles, lightly pinching you. “Speak, sweetheart.”

“Y-Yes, Steve.”

“Good girl.” His touch trails across your jaw, then down your neck. “This is cute.” He notes, touching the silver chain around your neck, all the way to the small circle with the stamped letter. He tuts when you don’t speak. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Thank you, Steve.” You gulp, practically sitting on his desk with his thigh snug between yours. The bottom of your dress is dangerously close to exposing your panties.

“Who’s H?”

“My friend.”

He flips the metal charm, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the engraving. “Your friend.”

“My best friend.” You squirm as his other hand lands on your hip, gently squeezing, “We grew up together but he goes to Harvard.”

“Childhood friends… Isn’t that adorable?” Steve beams, “You’re sentimental, then?” He twirls the necklace around his finger as the chain digs into your neck.

With every swirl of his digit, he brings you another inch closer as his breath fans over your cheeks. “I-I guess.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, his watchful gaze locked on your face, observing every minuscule twitch. “Would you wear my name?”

“What?”

“Would you wear my name right here,” he lightly pulls at the chain, “or would you rather wear my mark,” it almost happens in slow motion. With your arms uselessly sandwiched between your bodies, his touch trails to your scent gland, applying pressure, “right here. Where everyone can see.”

His smell increases tenfold, forming a cloud around you and soaking into your brain. The smoky and woody scent is calming and awakening at the same time. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen, but your defences are fluttering to the ground with every millisecond as he scents you—without your consent. It triggers some of your basic instincts, the innate desire to be claimed by another, to be submissive and at their beck and call.

With the chain in his grasp and a gentle touch of his fingers, he cracks the walls you’ve built to keep yourself safe and secure, to keep yourself separate from your designation and your predestined fate.

You attempt to collect yourself and through uneven breaths, you push him away. Steve doesn’t budge, he only grabs your thigh and hikes it on his waist, forcing you on the desk as your dress flips up. His dark gaze lands on your cotton panties and he growls appreciatively, nostrils flaring.

Your heart beats against your chest, loud enough to rattle your brain. “Please, don’t.” You whisper. “I can’t—I don’t...”

“You don’t?” He rubs your spot in slow circles, “If you don’t want me, then why are you getting wet?” He emphasizes his words by snapping the band of your panties against your skin, drawing closer to your warm centre.

“Because you’re—” You whine, resolve melting away with every delicate motion of his fingers, you slump under his touch.

Weak, you feel so weak yet desired. It’s a cruel curse of euphoria and you hate yourself for it, although it’s completely out of your control.

“You want me, sweetheart. I can see it on your face, I can smell you soaking your panties. I bet if I listen hard enough, I can hear your whiney thoughts begging for me.” Steve’s voice is smooth and deep, “But, all I can hear is your heart racing because you’re excited. Have you ever been touched like this?” His hand brushes over your panties and cups your mound.

“It’s not that.”

Steve’s hold tightens on your necklace as his long and thick fingers start rubbing over the cotton fabric, your wetness unmistakably seeping through. “Then what, omega?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer, not while all of your pent-up frustration comes rushing in. The look in his eyes is hard to pinpoint whether he’s remorseless, fully intrigued or downright enjoying toying with you.

Your lips quiver as tears pool in your eyes. You hate him, and you hate how good he’s making you feel with just a few fingers. You whimper as he tugs your panties to the side, sliding between your slick folds.

“Is it fear?” His tone is light and taunting, “Because that’s even better than excitement and, it looks especially lovely on you, legacy.”

As he releases your necklace, and his warmth on your scent gland leaves too. You’re flooded with ease and without his support, you sag into the shelf on the desk, the textbooks fall and the mason jar of pens tips over, clattering to the ground as the glass rolls away.

Steve tears the front of your dress, the cheap seams giving away under his strength. Your nipples meet the cool air, pebbled and immediately pinched by the alpha standing between your legs. He growls, massaging your tits as his other hand returns to your nub.

“You haven’t been touched in a while. I can tell.” His tone is so wickedly gentle, it’s a sharp contrast to his character. “Look at you, going dumb for me already, getting my desk wet.” He rasps, “C’mon, push me away.”

Your hands land on his forearms as your last line of defence falls.

His eyes lock on yours, his pink lips part in low breaths. “Do it. Tell me you don’t want me.”

Your fingertips press into his skin when he pulls away from your cunt, his big hands land on your inner thighs. A strained whine escapes your throat, a silent plea for more.

“Or, tell me you want me, baby. Cry for me—let me know how bad you want my touch, my fingers in your pretty pussy, my knot in your fuckhole.” Steve massages your flesh, inching closer to your core but never directly touching there, “I want to hear you say it, omega.”

His words are another blow to your pride. You surrender to his undeniable authority, giving in to him because Steve was right, you haven’t been touched in a long time, and everyone was a victim to his command—that didn’t exclude you.

Do you want him?

Do you even have a choice?

“Let me hear you, sweet girl. Give me what I want, don’t you want to make me proud?”

Maybe you did and that’s why he was asking.

You consider it, which might have been your first mistake. After all the rumours you’ve heard, most of them have been proven to be true, you shouldn’t trust him or want to make him proud. Why should his commendation matter when he’s nothing but another alpha with a sense of superiority?

Because he isn’t just another alpha—he’s Steve Rogers.

And he wants you.

You should have stayed far away from him and Arcadia Phi, regardless of your best friend’s and mother’s wishes. But you didn’t, and now look at you, sprawled on his desk with his bedroom door open, scantily clad in a torn maid costume with your most sensitive spot exposed. Your scent gland is still buzzing with his touch, craving more.

Despite your hateful feelings, you want more, you want him. There’s no denying that at this moment.

That’s when the first tear falls down your cheek, leaving a shiny trail in its wake.

“Please touch me, Steve. I-I want you.” You hiccup, reaching for his hands to bring one to your face, the other to your pussy. Your knees hook around his waist, “Want you so bad, alpha.”

His blue eyes twinkle, the corner of his lips quirk up, “That’s my omega.”

You would have never expected your day to end up like this. Willingly giving in to his advances, but maybe that was why you even considered it.

Steve knows the truth. You believed you had a choice when he was going to get what he wanted one way or another. He thrives off your sweet little heart having faith in yourself, it’s adorable. And, he can’t wait to corrupt you.

“Please, Steve.” Your legs fall open, neck craning to watch his skilled fingers trace your hole, barely dipping it before rubbing your clit again. You’re aching for him and anything he can give you.

Your slick drips out and Steve’s mouth waters, he’s seconds away from dropping to his knees and devouring you whole. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? I saw you at orientation—you seemed so lost but eager.” He cups your face, leaning down until his nose brushes yours and finally, one of his fingers pushes in, pressing to his knuckle before drawing out. “You didn’t even fucking look at me.”

You whine, scrambling for his broad shoulders and falling deeper into that blissful headspace.

“As if I wasn’t even there.” He slides in with two fingers, sissoring you open. He pumps in deep, curling his digits to reach your special spot as his thumb lands on your clit, “Now look at you, baby, dripping on my desk, your cunt sucking me in. Bet you’re hungry for a knot, huh?” There’s a softness in his eyes and his touch on your cheek. His warmth sinks to your bones, burning an imprint in the shape of him.

Steve speeds up and adds more power. His bicep flexes with every thrust, working you open as your juices drip down his hand, marking him with your scent. He looms over you, huge and intimidating, making you a compliant mess. His groan rumbles his chest as he pulls out to slap your pussy, the wet noises make your cheeks heat up. “Nearly forced Kappa Phi to take you in but my ex was the president at the time.”

He captures your lips in his, slipping his tongue in your mouth as his palm falls to the side of your neck. Your jaw falls slack as he rubs your gland and penetrates three thick fingers into your tight hole at the same time. Steve growls, biting on your bottom lip before kissing you sloppily. He tastes like mint and he’s demanding and rough, while you’re needy and docile, a perfect match.

You turn away as he picks up pace, spreading his long fingers along your inner walls. Moans flow out of your body and into the open air, shameless and absolute music to Steve’s ears. He stretches you open as the shelf digs into your back, his expert touch bringing you to the edge fast. Heat builds in your belly and even in the thin dress, you feel the sweat on your skin. He spanks your clit, feeding off your mewls along with the lewd sopping noises coming from your core. Your cream has formed a mess under your ass as it’s forced out of your poor hole, dripping down to your rosebud.

“That’s it, you going to come for me, sweet girl? This cunt was made for taking cock, for taking mine—you want my knot, omega? Since you’re this wet from my hand, I bet you’re a stupid mess when you’re in heat. You hear that?” He slaps your cunt in quick succession, “You’re dripping for me, you want me to stretch you open, fuck you until you can’t even think.” He grunts, teeth clenched as your thighs threaten to shut, he prys them apart and swats your clit harder, still pounding you with his fingers. “You’d take my cock if I just asked, huh? You’d let me fill your little cunt, breed you like a dumb slut. I bet you fucking love this.”

You cover your face as you squeal, the back of your head thumping against the wall as you convulse. Your slick pours out, soaking his skin and dripping down his wrist. His pumps don’t stutter or even slow down, he keeps up the intensity and you’ve officially lost your mind. You fist his t-shirt in your other hand, either trying to escape or pull him closer, you don’t even know.

“So fucking tight, you don’t even want me to stop, huh?” He yanks you close by the back of your neck, he spits into your open mouth. “That’s why you squirted all over me, fucking cock hungry whore.” He kisses you although you barely respond, too fucked out and dazed. When he pulls away, he messily traces through your folds, smearing your juices around as he releases your lips with a pop.

The blue in his eyes is hardly visible, but that could just be your watery vision. He brings his hand to your face, spreading his digits as your cream webs between them. “You want a taste, baby?”

You let him slip two fingers into your mouth, pressing to the knuckles and forcing you to clean him. He groans as you gag slightly, tears welling in your eyes as he fucks your mouth just like your cunt. When he deems you’ve had enough, he sucks his ring finger, eyes fluttering shut at your taste. He’s filthy with it, putting on a show, letting you know just how he’d treat your precious pussy with his tongue.

“Tastes even better than I thought.” Steve sighs, and runs his fingers along the bottom half of your face, your wetness mixed with both of your saliva dries on your skin. “Now, if you did that last year during pledge week, you would’ve gotten into Kappa without a doubt.”

You’ve barely managed to catch your breath, still riding on that wave that’s made you question your entire college career. “I-I don’t need your help.”

Steve laughs, easily picking you up and sitting in the chair. Even in his lap, he’s bigger than you. “You just need me. And with that, you’re going to get my help anyway.” He grips your hips as your tingling cunt meets his jeans.

“Wait—” You gasp, “It’s too much, I can’t—”

“You can,” He kisses down your cheek to your jaw, he sucks at the spot right by your scent gland. “And, you will. Make me even prouder, omega. Rub yourself on me, make a mess on my pants. Claim me just like I’ll claim you.” Then, his teeth drag over your spot, immediately making you pliant in his hold and to his voice. “Be a good girl for daddy.”

You tie your arms around his shoulders, wasting no time in grinding against the giant bulge. The denim is rough against your sensitive petals, but it feels so good, it feels better than your pillow at your dorm and with every swirl of your hips, Steve groans freely against your neck.

He tears the back of your skimpy dress and the fabric falls down your body. It hangs from your waist and the skirt flutters with every rock of your hips. Your cunt is tortured by his jeans, your clit rubbed raw and begging for a break, but you can’t give yourself one. Not until Steve wants you to because, despite your best efforts, you’ve fallen victim to his cruel charm and your darkest fantasies.

Steve sucks on your spot, teasing you with nips between his dirty words. You can’t even hear him anymore, your body hums with passion and want. An instinctual desire to obey his every command and be his good girl, you want to claim him—own him like he owns you.

Perhaps the stereotypes about omegas were always right, and you’ve been in denial. Or, Steve is just intoxicating with a magnetic force that draws you in. He’s awoken a longing inside you, one that you didn’t even know existed.

“They said you were one of the smartest omegas on campus, but it doesn’t seem like that now.” Steve grabs your throat with one hand, guiding you over his clothed cock with the other. “I turned you into my little omega, my dumb slut. I can feel your pussy throbbing for me, oh, my pussy—because this tight fuckhole was made for me.” He tightens his hold and licks from your jaw to your cheek. “Aw, are you crying for me? Giving daddy those pretty tears, it’s like you never want me to let you go.”

You struggle against him, hiccuping another pathetic moan as he thrusts upwards, meeting your grinds.

Steve knows you aren’t incapable, not like the rest of the dull and drab students of Howard College. You had a fight in you, albeit timid and frail, it was there and he can only imagine what other fire hides within your soul. He read the hatred and spite on your face like an open book, you weren’t as secretive as you thought and he assumed you’d be trouble. But no, you stayed quiet and obedient until he lured you out.

You had potential, you had shown that with your early resistance and how you treated Andy—fucking Andy, this morning he asked if you could clean his room, but Steve had already made his intentions clear. You were his for the day, and the next, until he was done with you. Which wasn’t anywhere in the near future.

Watching you now, teary eyes rolled in the back of your head and listening to your mewls echo through the room, he hopes Andy and the rest of his frat brothers were listening. Then, they’d know that Steve wasn’t letting you go, they could try, they could beg and fight, and he’d just tease you in front of their noses. Playing with people was fun, and with you in his corner, he’d never lose.

“Fuck, keep going.” Steve hisses, the veins in his neck tense as his head falls back. His fingertips dig into your ass, groping the flesh, “That’s it, you’re doing so good, baby.”

“Daddy, ah please, daddy.”

“What do you need, omega?” Steve pants, flipping up the stubborn skirt to watch your puffy cunt grind against his bulge. The denim is dark under you and he has the perfect view of your spread folds and swollen clit rubbing along his jeans, your sweet slick seeping through his jeans to his skin, he can feel you.

“F-Fuck me, please—I want it, want it.” You repeat, nails dragging down his shirt, your poor hole weeping for him.

He smirks, “My little girl wants my cock? Want me to stretch your tight pussy, fuck you until you don’t have any tears left, pump you full of my cum and fucking breed you?” He spanks you, making you jerk and squeak, “You want to be my omega?”

You nod shakily and reach down, weakly attempting to unbutton his pants but he swats you away. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he takes control and moves you roughly over his dick. You let out a high-pitched squeal, knees pressing into the cushion of the seat as you try to right yourself, but it’s feeble against his strength.

“You want my cock so bad that you’ll just pull it out without my permission?” Steve’s stomach tightens as the tears trail down your cheeks, slipping into the corners of your parted mouth. “Thought you’d know better now.”

You grab onto his wrists, piercing his skin with your nails, “I-It’s too much!” Your cry.

“It’s not enough.” He grabs your throat, not tight enough to restrict airflow but firm enough to let you know he can, and it only makes you greedier. You try to meet his grinds but you’re just bouncing on his lap.

“D-Daddy, I can’t.”

“You can.” He insists, getting closer to the edge. He imagines your tight hole clenched around his cock as he stuffs his knot into you. “You can, and you will.”

You weep, “...can’t.”

Steve has always loved a little challenge and he knows you’re an omega who hoped for more, who craved for more—and it was ultimately intriguing. To tame the feisty attitude bubbling inside of you, the same flicker he sees when he speaks again. “You can’t come.”

Your eyes shoot open, a torn and angry expression on your face, “But—”

“Shush now, baby.” He groans, cheeks flushed red as his whole body tenses, and he never stops moving you over him. “I said make a mess, I didn’t say you could come. Tell me you want to be mine.”

“Daddy, please—” You whimper, the tightness in your belly becoming too much.

Steve swats your ass harshly, “fucking say it.”

Your cunt throbs between your thighs, the denim has rubbed you raw, “I-I want to be yours, daddy.”

Steve groans gutturally, his back arches as his eyes flutter shut. Throaty praises ring in your ears, his hold is so tight that they’ll be bruises tomorrow. His muscles flex, his abs, biceps and thick thighs under you, and you can feel his cock swell up under your core. His knot is going to waste and you whine.

Steve's hair falls against his forehead as he looks at you, blue eyes full of bliss and perhaps even devotion—he’s beautiful and evil.

You sniffle quietly, feeling his warm cum seeping through the denim. “You’re so mean…”

Steve’s chest heaves, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Thought we already established that, baby?”

The open air is exactly what you need as you limp down the path with your clothes in your arms, some girls can’t help but stare at you. In envy or pity, they watch your uneven steps. They’re all still wearing their costumes, the evening breeze isn’t kind to their exposed skin. You stand out like a sore thumb, clad in Steve’s t-shirt and his sweatpants. Your poor folds gaining a bit of much-needed relief.

Some of the other pledges are talking—you know it’s about you despite how quiet they try to be.

They know, everyone in the house knew what happened in Steve’s bedroom. And some of the other girls were either jealous or sorrowful. You were unsure about your own feelings too, since you’re still teetering on the edge of that omega headspace because Steve couldn’t stop touching your gland.

In particular, the Arcadia alphas were as shameless as ever. They clapped and cheered when you wobbled down the stairs with Steve on your tail.

“Legacy deserves a gold star for that performance.”

“I’m going to knock your teeth in if you don’t shut up, Bryce.” Steve spits as he pulls you to the kitchen, grabbing a cold water bottle from the fridge.

Bucky whistles lowly, “And thus, the innate need to be an asshole after getting with an omega. Don’t you all wish there were more omega pledges, fellas?”

Steve ignores him in favour of gathering snacks from the cabinets and shelves. And, for the rest of the day, you sit on his lap in his clothes, watching the other pledges sweat and scrub at the whole house.

He relaxes on the couch, one of his hands never leaving your body as he speaks to his brothers, petting and tending to you like a doll, “Perhaps little legacy is Kappa Phi material, huh, baby?”

You don’t look back once, forcing yourself to stare ahead as Wanda asks how you’re feeling, among other things. You’ll tell her when you’re at your dorm and far away from Arcadia Phi.

Steve watches from the front door of the frat house, his arms crossed as the breeze brushes his bare skin, the band of his sweatpants hanging dangerously low. Behind him, his frat brothers are discussing names of the pledges, yours pops up more than a few times and is followed by a lewd comment.

“Our sister sorority, too. You’re freakier than I thought, punk.” Bucky steps beside him, a little apron in his hands.

“I wonder if I should tell our parents about his risqué behaviour.” Another voice says as an arm swings around Steve’s shoulder, “What do you think, little brother? Will mom and dad return you?”

Steve shrugs off Ransom, glaring at him. “I’m older than you, dipshit, and that’s not how adoption works.”

“Blah, blah, blah. All I’m hearing is the sound of an overdue glorified housepet.” He teases while the blond just scoffs.

They’ve been this way since they met, their relationship was strong from the beginning but that didn’t lessen any of the bickering or fights that every other sibling has. The only difference was their resilience yet they had odd similarities in terms of behaviour and attitude. Both being headstrong and fearless alphas. It was a wonder how they had lasted this long while constantly sharing a circle of friends.

“Although, I must acknowledge your exquisite taste because that sweet girl,” Ransom points down the street, “is on every alpha and beta—probably some wild omegas too—radar.”

“Surprised she hasn’t been claimed yet.” Curtis speaks up, “actually, I’m shocked a lot of omegas here haven’t been mated.”

“Some of us have standards and most of those omegas have been strung through every bed on campus.” Ransom replies, grinning at his brother, “I admire our parallel preferences, Stevie, think I can take a go at legacy?”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, it seems that testosterone is still sky-high. I’ll ask you when you’ve had time to wind down, try out the hot tub, huh?” The brunet leaves with a wink and a slap on Steve’s shoulder, waltzing into the house and joining the discussion with the rest of the brothers.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. fuck-em-and-leave-em, but she doesn’t even like us,” Bucky laughs, “Much less you.”

“Not yet.” He licks his lips as your group disappears around a corner. The empty air still carries a thread of your scent, or maybe that’s just your soaked panties crumbled in his pocket.

He was already one of the gods of Howard College and he's going to be yours too.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: well here it is ! the first part of captain's legacy and the first dark fic I've ever posted. mean!Steve just does something to me, and I have a feeling he'll be like that for a while. this is a dark fic, so we'll see how much fluff is in the future. the ending was supposed to be longer but I think it fits better in the next part and like my other series, this has no update schedule.

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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wheredafandomat · 2 years ago

Text

Kingpin

Bit of a mob boss Loki x female reader

A/N - I just had this thought and thought I HAVE to share it 🤣🤣 contains smut. Mob boss AU

Making your way towards the back of the mansion, you sighted Loki having one of his meetings with some of his associates through the window. Already you could recognise some of them including the reformed Tony Stark and of course his brother Thor as well as Steve Rogers who all worked closely with Loki. When you had left earlier, Loki had assured you that they’d all be gone by the time you got back home and yet here they all were still sitting by the large pool and talking. He looked tense meaning that whatever new business move that was supposed to run smoothly probably hadn’t which explained why they were all still present. Opening the glass door, Lokis eyes met yours before he flashed you a quick wink. Stepping outside, you rid yourself of your kimono, revealing the cutout Gucci swimsuit underneath that left little to the imagination before heading towards the pool.

“If we’re going to make a move, we have to do it now.” Steve insisted.

“We must tread carefully.” Thor interrupted.

“Carefully? Where’s careful ever gotten us?” Stark scoffed before his attention was caught by the sound of a splash in the water, turning, he was met by the sight of you in the pool as you swam.

“Thor is right.” Loki spoke, directing his stern tone at Tony who was practically gawking at you. Turning away, Tony’s eyes met Lokis once more. “If we’re too loud, the others will catch on to what we’re doing.”

“That’s the problem boss.” Steve started, looking at Loki who was now focused on you in the pool. He stopped talking as Loki called your name, clicking his fingers. Seeing Loki gesture for you to come towards him, you swam towards the steps leading out of the pool before beginning to exit it. One by one, each of Lokis friends turned their heads, gaze focused on you as you walked towards them, body glistening in the sun as droplets of water cascaded down you, dripping from your hair and beading on your skin.

“What’s the matter baby?” You asked once you reached Loki, massaging his shoulders oblivious of all the eyes on you.

“Come and sit on my lap.” He prompted.

“But I’m all wet.” You giggled.

“Sit.” He repeated more austerely before you sat across his lap. One of the guys cleared their throats as Loki positioned you more comfortably over him before taking one of your hands in his and bringing it to his lips. You could only assume it was Thor as that was the only one Loki wouldn’t extinguish without a second thought.

“Do you like my nails?” You asked excitedly, presenting them to him, remembering you had gotten them done earlier.

“Yes.” He nodded with a small smirk.

“Look they match.” You added, leaning further backwards as you raised your legs, showing him the result of your very expensive pedicure.

“Very pretty.” He praised. “Now are you going to sit quietly like a good girl whilst we discuss business?”

“Yess.” You nodded.

“Good girl.” He smiled, nudging your nose with his before kissing your neck and resuming his meeting as you sat contently in his hold. You tended to not really pay attention to Loki whenever he spoke business, deciding you’d watch the trees in the distance instead. You were happy observing nature until you felt Loki begin to run his hand up and down your thigh, continuing to speak. When his hand delved higher, meeting your inner thigh as he clutched you tighter against him, you decided to turn towards the crook of his neck as you started kissing the exposed flesh.

“That really is a you problem and just like all you problems I’m expecting that you’ll deal with it.” Loki spoke, rolling his eyes as he looked at Steve.

“But I—” he began to argue, eyes flicking from you to Loki.

“You’ll what? Do as I say whilst I fuck my gorgeous girlfriend in our Alaskan king bed wrapped around our Egyptian cotton sheets?” Loki interrupted leaving no space for arguments as his voice grew sterner, colder.

“Yes boss.” Steve decided, looking down.

“Excellent.” Loki cheered, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before standing up, still holding you “well, that concludes our meeting for today. I expect you can all find your own ways out.” The guys nodded, looking away from Loki as he stepped past them, holding you bridal style as he made his way back inside.

“I can walk myself.” You giggled.

“Yes but I prefer it this way, can’t ruin your pedicure darling.” He grinned causing you to smile wider. “We’ll test if they did a good job.” He added, looking at your feet.

“How are you going to do that?”

“We’ll see how smooth they feel against my shoulders.” He teased, hoisting you higher as you began to slip, laughing at his words.

When you both reached the bedroom after Loki insisted on carrying you the whole way, he dropped you on the bed causing you to bounce slightly against the mattress. You smiled up at Loki who then settled above you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hands ran over his back as you gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. Leaning slightly up, Loki raised his arms, helping you to pull it off before his lips latched back onto yours. Hands now free to roam his bare back, you grinned against his lips as he groaned into the kiss, scratching his back lightly.

“Get me out of this.” You smiled, breaking the kiss as you gestured to your swimsuit. Eyes darkening, Loki began lowering the straps, pulling it down your body as you shimmied out of it. Positioning himself lower, between your legs, Loki leant down, kissing your hipbone as he pulled the material lower. “Enjoying the view?” You called, watching Loki as his gaze lingered between the legs you had purposely widened once he had rid you of the swimsuit.

“Don’t I always.” He snorted, settling back above you, kissing you again as one of his hands found your clit. You moaned into the kiss feeling him circling it with two of his fingers.

“Ohh fuckk.” You breathed, head falling deeper into the pillow beneath you as Loki began entering you with his fingers.

“You like that beautiful?” He asked, kissing your forehead as you started slowly bucking your hips up. Feeling Lokis growing erection against your leg only strengthened the need to feel his cock inside of you. Reaching down, you ran your hand over his clothed length causing Loki to sigh contently.

“Off.” You pouted, opening your eyes.

“Very well.” He grinned darkly, pausing his administrations as he undid the button of his trousers before pulling them down, leaving them at his ankles. “Enough?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Noo.” You answered, fingers running under the hem of his Calvin Kleins.

“Want to take them off for me?”

Nodding, you hooked your fingers further underneath as you pulled them down, Loki helping you.

“Better?”

“Yess.”

Pulling Loki back down, you pressed your lips to his as his now bare hard cock nudged your leg. One by one, Loki wrapped your legs around his waist, his length gliding against your core.

“I almost forgot.” He interrupted, breaking from your grip causing your legs to fall limp against the bed. “You were supposed to show me where all my hard earned money went today.” He spoke, lifting one of your legs and kissing your ankle before resting the leg against his shoulder leaving you open and exposed.

“They m—” you began, reaching forwards to grip his cock.

“Match, yes.” He finished, smiling down at you.

“Do you like them?” You asked, wriggling your fingers as you settled back down, one leg still on his shoulder. You had asked him earlier but you loved showing them off to him.

“I love them.” He uttered, stroking his length before guiding it towards your entrance. “Fuck.” He exhaled, entering you slowly. Tapping your other leg, Loki prompted you to lift that one too. Doing so, you felt your walls stretching as he stayed still, throbbing inside of you. Pulling out, Loki left no time before he entered you again causing you to gasp. You were full to the hilt. Trying to gain some sort of traction, you bent one of your knees, your foot resting flat against Lokis chest. The pedicure wasn’t for nothing.

“Please move.” You near begged when he remained still. Smiling wickedly, Loki began thrusting in and out of you as you moaned loudly. The sound of his skin hitting yours as well as the headboard banging into the wall replaced your sounds as he continued slamming into you. Despite vaguely hearing the door knock, you continued to scream Lokis name thinking he’d ignore it.

“Come in.” Loki shouted above you causing your eyes to widen as you tried to cover your bare breasts with your arms. “I’m extremely busy, what do you want?” Loki questioned the person that entered as he continued pounding you. If Loki hadn’t angled his hips slightly differently allowing him to hit that perfect spot each time, you would have quickly pushed him away and hid under the covers but the sensation was too good, you fell victim to it. All you could do was lay and pant as your eyes rolled back.

“It’s an emergency Sir.” Jarvis answered, looking away from the explicit scene in front of him.

“And can’t you d-deal with it?” Loki questioned, gritting his teeth as he fucked you.

“It requires you I’m afraid.”

“Fuck sake.” Loki cursed.

“Urgently.” Jarvis quickly added.

Huffing angrily, Loki pulled out of you, lowering your legs causing you to snap back into reality before you scrambled for the duvet.

“Duty calls my love.” Loki sighed, picking his trousers up before putting them on, sighing again at his erection. “Love the pedicure though darling.” He winked, grabbing his shirt before he left.

Random I know 🤣

Tags:

@lokisninerealms

@lokisgoodgirl

@mochie85

@lokiprompts

@mischief2sarawr

@lulubelle814

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #tom hiddelston loki #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #loki smut #loki x you smut #loki x f!reader #loki x y/n smut #loki x y/n #loki au #mob au #mcu au #mcu smut #loki laufeyson smut #avengers au

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mrsstruggle · 3 years ago

Text

The Lost Child - Chapter 8 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

Summary: Y/N Stark was taken from her family when she was three years old. It's fifteen years later and her family believes she is dead. Then how is she living in Beacon Hills?

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Being Attacked, Mentions of Being Experimented On, Mentions of Alcoholism and Unhealthy Coping, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is any more)

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff, & More To Come

Previous Pairings: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Words: 2.3k

Note: I am posting new chapters every 2-3 days! I am trying to get on a consistent schedule! I am clearly not doing a good job of that!

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story. This also loosely follows Teen Wolf Season 4.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so that more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment only.***

Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

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Y/N, Peter, and Stiles are driving along the road of Beacon Hills. They just left Beacon Hills Animal Clinic and are heading towards Y/N and Derek's apartment so she can clean up. While her bullet wound is now healed, she still has blood all over her leg and clothes.

"So, Peter," Stiles leans forward in the backseat of the black Camaro, "you still haven't answered my question as to why you were in the woods."

"You might as well answer him. He's never going to stop asking," Y/N mumbles from her spot in the driver's seat.

"I was, um, I was out for a, uh, run," Peter answers Stiles, looking at him from the passenger seat.

"Mhm, sure," Stiles looks at him disbelievingly, "How do you two know each other? This doesn't seem like the first time you've met."

"He was a patient of mine the other day," Y/N replies.

"Why were you at the hospital? Don't you have super healing?"

"Me? No..." Peter looks away from Stiles.

"Are you sure? Spiderm–"

"What are you exactly?" Peter interrupts, "If she's a werewolf, what are you?"

"Abominable snowman. It's more of a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal." Stiles replies.

"Seriously!" Peter looks at him with a shocked look.

"Don't listen to him. He's lying to you." Y/N mumbles, turning down the street toward her apartment.

"What are you really then?"

"For a little while, I was possessed by an evil spirit. It was very evil." Stiles answers.

"What are you now?" Peter watches him skeptically.

"Better," Stiles mumbles out, looking at Y/N with a look of disbelief and ridicule.

"He's 100% human," Y/N informs Peter.

"What about the vet who just saved your life? What is he?" Peters asks.

"He's an Emissary. He's like a pack advisor." Y/N pulls into the parking garage of her building.

"What about the other guy? The good-looking one."

"Hey!" Stiles lightly hits Peter's arm, "First my sister, and now my best friend?"

"Why?" Y/N asks, parking the car in Derek's designated spot.

"Why what?" Stiles looks at her with a confused look on his face.

"Why did I have to be dropped off at your door? Why couldn't I have been given to another family?" She's internally cursing whoever made Stiles her brother.

"Like you'd ever want a different brother!" Stiles exclaims.

"Keep telling yourself that," Y/N mumbles, stepping out of the Camaro before moving her seat forward to let Stiles out of the backseat.

She locks the car as they walk to the elevator in silence. The elevator creaks as they step inside it. It jerks awake as it takes them to the top floor.

As they step off the elevator, Peter notices there is only one apartment on the top floor, "Are you the only person on this floor?"

"Yeah, my boyfriend kinda owns the building," Y/N replies, opening the apartment door.

They step into the large apartment to see Lydia sitting alone on the large, gray couch as Derek paces back and forth behind her. His head whips towards the door as Y/N, Peter, and Stiles walk in.

"Where the hell have you been?" Derek exclaims, running over to Y/N after seeing the blood on her, "What happened?"

"I went out for a run to clear my head and hunters decided to shoot at us." Y/N explains, "Why aren't you at work? I thought you didn't get off until later?"

"We left early after some guy came in and grabbed your picture and ran," Lydia informs her.

"What do you mean some guy grabbed her picture and ran?" Stiles asks.

"He came in for an oil change. He saw a picture of Y/N on our board and asked me who she was. I told him her name and he grabbed the picture and drove off."

"You just told him her name? No questions asked?" Stiles looks at her with a confused look on his face.

"What? Was I supposed to question him first before answering him?" Lydia stands up from her spot on the couch.

"Yes!"

"Why did he take my picture? Do you think he's a hunter or something?" Y/N questions.

"No," Lydia states, "If he was a hunter, he would've recognized me or he would've been there for Derek. I mean it's called Hale Garage. I don't know why he took your picture or what was so special about it."

"What did he look like?" Stiles asks her.

"Um, he had brown hair, blue eyes, and he seemed to have like a metal arm or something."

"You're talking about Bucky," Peter speaks up from his position by the door.

Derek's eyes flash red as he growls at Peter and pulls Y/N behind him in a protective manner, "Who the hell are you?"

"I-I'm, uh, I'm Peter." Peter stutters out, backing up against the door, "Please, don't eat me!"

"Calm down Sourwolf!" Stiles exclaims, stepping in front of Peter, "He's with us."

"He was with me when I was attacked in the woods," Y/N grabs Derek's hand as he turns to look at her, "He saved my life."

"Where's his shirt?" Derek asks.

"I used it to stop the wolfsbane from getting to my heart."

"I'm going to let this go for now, but we will be discussing this later."

"Deal." She smiles at him before leaning in for a kiss, ignoring Stiles’ "ew" from behind Derek.

"Why would Bucky take her photo?" Stiles turns to Peter.

Peter shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know. Maybe he–"

"Guys!" Lydia interrupts Peter, "Something's wrong."

"What's wrong?" Y/N asks, watching Lydia intensely listening to something.

"I don't know," Lydia mumbles, moving closer to the shut-off TV, "I can't understand what they're saying. I think it's a name."

"What name?" Stiles questions.

"I don't know. Their voices sound muffled... Almost as if they're underwater."

---

Bucky speedily pulls up to the front door of the lake house. He throws the car in park before hurriedly jumping out, forgetting to turn the car off and grab the keys.

He runs inside the house, yelling for Tony, "Tony! Tony!"

"Buck, what's wrong?" Natasha asks. She's laid out on the couch with a book in her hand as Bruce and Wanda are doing a puzzle on the coffee table next to her.

"Where's Tony? Tony!"

"What?! Why are you yelling?!" Tony exclaims, walking down the stairs towards Bucky with Steve right behind him.

"Look at this." Bucky shoves the photo of the girl holding the bear toward Tony, "Look at what she's holding."

Tony grabs the photo from Bucky, his eyes widening at the sight of the bear he hasn't seen in years, "Where the hell did you get this and why is she holding my daughter's bear?"

At Tony's questions, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda rush over to look at the picture themselves. They all gather around Tony, staring at the photo that has him and Bucky so shaken.

"When I went to go get the oil changed, they had a board full of pictures," Bucky starts to explain, "This photo was on there. The girl that was working at the front said it's her friend in the picture."

"She was Peter's nurse when he fell through the deck. She said her name was Y/N..." Steve trails off, staring at the girl in the photo.

"That's impossible." Natasha whispers in shock, "Y/N's dead. She's been dead for years. I found her body!"

"What's going on?" They turn to see Sam and Thor entering from the backyard in their swim trunks. Both are still slightly wet from their time in the lake after lunch.

Tony silently shows them the photo in his hand. They can tell by his hard grip that they won't be taking it from him, just looking at it.

"Impossible," Thor mumbles, trying to get as close to the photo as possible to make sure he isn't seeing things.

"Her name's Y/N," Steve states.

"What does this mean?" Sam looks to Tony.

Tony looks over to Bruce, "Call Fury. Tell him to get his ass here. Now."

Bruce runs off to grab his phone as Tony walks over to sit on the couch with the picture still clutched in his hand.

"This doesn't make any sense," Natasha sits next to Tony and continues to stare at the photo, "Is the girl in the photo our Y/N, or is her name just a coincidence?"

"It has to be a coincidence," Sam states, sitting on the coffee table. He doesn't notice the unfinished puzzle on top of it.

"Then how did she get the bear?" Bucky asks, sitting next to Tony on the side Natasha isn't occupying.

"If that is our Y/N, how did we not know? Why was she never brought back to us?" Steve questions, taking a seat next to Bucky and grabbing his hand for comfort, "Her picture was everywhere. Her information was sent to every police station. Her disappearance was known worldwide."

"And she has no idea who we are." Tony mumbles sadly, "When we brought Peter in, she said she knew who we were because of her brother."

"Brother?" Wanda sits down next to Sam.

"His name is Biles or something."

"She doesn't remember us?" Bucky turns to look at Steve.

"I don't know," Steve mumbles back.

"Fury is on his way," Bruce announces, walking back into the living room, "I told him it's an emergency."

"Peter asked me the other day if I thought she was still alive," Tony states, "Do you think he knows something we don't?"

"I think he knows a lot of things we don't," Sam replies.

"If this is Y/N, our Y/N, then whose body did they identify as her? Did they make a mistake or was it on purpose?" Natasha asks.

"Fury will tell us everything when he gets here." Bruce squeezes Natasha's shoulder for comfort.

"What if he doesn't?" Wanda questions.

"We'll make him," Tony states.

They sit in silence for twenty more minutes until Fury shows up. They watch as the quinjet lands in the backyard and Fury and Maria exit from it, walking towards the house. All eyes are on them as they walk into the house.

"What happened?" Fury asks, scanning the room to see what the emergency is.

"She's alive, isn't she?" Tony asks as small tears run down his face as he looks at Fury with a questioning look.

"What are you talking about?" Maria looks around at the hurt and confused faces in the room.

"Whose body did you really find? Whose body did we bury in the ground?" Tony stands up and stares at Fury and Maria with anger in his eyes.

Fury and Maria give each other a look before silently deciding they are done telling lies. The rest of the Avengers stand up to stand with Tony. Each one trying to mentally prepare themselves for whatever information they are told.

"We don't know whose body is in her grave, but we know it isn't Y/N." Fury states.

"We don't even know if she's still alive," Maria starts, "We've looked but we've never been able to find her."

"Why should we believe you?" Steve asks angrily.

"We know who took her." Fury informs them.

"It was Hydra." Maria states, "They were the ones that took her."

"How do you know that?" Bucky questions.

"The Hydra base where Natasha found the bracelet," Fury points to the bracelet Nat was clutching in her hand, "That's where they held her and that's where they experimented on her for their project."

"Oh my god," Wanda mumbles under her breath, sitting back down on the coffee table.

"We know this because of the files and videos they kept of her. However, she was only there for a year."

"What happened after a year?" Sam asks.

"She was taken by someone." Maria states, "The base was attacked, and she was taken. We have a video of the attack, but we've never been able to identify the people who took her."

"Why did you lie? Why did you say that she was dead?!" Tony exclaims.

"We knew that by telling you she was dead, you would stop looking for her." Fury informs him, "Her disappearance killed you. You were drinking your meals. Steve was unfocused. Bucky was in the training room every day, hurting himself more and more. Wanda was losing control. Natasha was too focused on finding her than her own safety. Thor rarely came back to Earth and Sam started sleeping with every girl he saw so he wouldn't have to even think about Y/N. I needed focused and healthy Avengers. The world needed focused and healthy Avengers!"

"Y/N needed us!" Tony yells, walking over to Fury, "You think I actually care more about the Avengers or Iron Man than my own daughter? I'd give it all up to get back the last fifteen years I've missed from my daughter's life. I'd give it all up to spend the rest of my life making up for the fact she got taken right from under me."

"What was the project named?" Bucky quietly asks.

"What?" Fury questions.

"You said they experimented on her for one of their projects. I was the Winter Soldier project. What was her project named?" Bucky looks directly at Fury.

"Project Shadow Wolf."

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“Abominable snowman. It’s more of a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal.” - Teen Wolf, Season 2 Episode 10: 24:06

“For a little while, I was possessed by an evil spirit. It was very evil.” Stiles answers.

“What are you now?” Peter watches him skeptically.

“Better,” Stiles mumbles out, looking at Y/N with a look of disbelief and ridicule. - Teen Wolf, Season 4 Episode 4: 25:28

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey! I posted this yesterday but there was a glitch so I was shadowbanned for about half a day. It's fixed now so I hope you like this!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@vicmc624 @mrspetxrs @freyathehuntress @fheresm @stefans-wife @taketimeandappreciate @youralphawolf72 @ornella0910 @shedsblood @ts1mp0ne @beautifulgrungekid @danielle-leah1997 @itmejado @ivettt @james-bucky-barnes-bitch @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @darkenwolfie @lokiandbuckywife @xx-narcissa @elite4cekalyma @thecrazytealady @misshale21 @cevans-winchester @ladyjenjay @llamaproblem @emily-roberts @me-unintentionally @inyourmomsworld

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binkszamsstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Our last summer

Brothers bestfriend bucky x fem reader! 80s au/summer love au. Please read authors note down below when finished reading, thank you!!!!!♡♡♡♡♡♡

The Summer 1986 was by far the best, it was the summer bucky barnes came back from college. The summer love was in the air.

The two teens sat on a dried log with brown bark. Peter and y/n were looking for one last way to live it up in their small town before college. Wanda was in the water floating on her back humming, with her twin brother trying to skip rocks.

"Listen bro-chachos my car is in the shop for the next week we gotta find another way around" Pietro said while swinging is arm fully back to skip the the rock.

The round hard end hit wanda right in the forehead her eyes closing in pain. Peter, Pietro. And y/n jumping up to get her out of the water. The boys wrapping their arms around her mid-section. "

Come on Wanda wake up!" Her brother said worry in his tone. "I'm gonna page your mom!"

Y/n yelled while running to her mothers car that she took for for day, digging in a canvas beach bag for the pager. Quickly as possible y/n pressed the buttons, peter and Pietro now putting wanda in the back as she closes her eyes

"wanda! No stay awake until we get to the hospital" a big bruise nownformong on her forehead in the shape of the thick rock. Pietro in the divers seat screaming to "GET IN THE CAR!"

peter in the front seat and y/n in the back with wanda. When the group of teens made it to the E.R. Magda wands and Pietro's mother was running to the car she and Pietro pulling wanda out and carring her through the E.Rs glass doors. Peter and y/n parking the car the anxiety was high.

There sat the group waiting for the doctors to release wanda, Magda scolding her son in Sovakian. Finally the nurse came to tell them they were aloud back to her room. Magda stayed in the waiting room filling put the paper work while the group of friends made their way to wanda.

"I'm so so sorry sis, I didnt mean to you!" Pietro says.

Wanda was tired but she knew it was an accident "Its alright, I'm fine guys just a concussion I'll be good in like 2 days."

As they continued to talk and laugh the door swung open to reveal Steve Rogers and James 'call me bucky" Buchanan Barnes with his father doctor Barnes.

"We heard wanda was in here is everything alright?"

Steve asked as they stepped in. Steve and bucky were getting back from their last year college, Steve's mother Sarah and y/n's mother were high school best friend, so when y/n's father ran out and Steve's died.

The now two single mothers needed to stay afloat so they and their two kids moved in together. It was supposed to be temporary but living with eachother was easier for the two of them and steve, and y/n.

Y/n and steve being raised together brought the two of them together, he was four years older then her but that didnt stop them from being close.

And with steve came bucky his best friend. At first it was all innocent just three kids being friends but when bucky and steve got older they changed.

Not just physically but mentally too... they didnt want to play or have time for time for the young girl, they wanted the older girls. Soon y/n saw bucky in a different light, a crush had formed.

Every song about puppy love had her thinking of bucky, but she knew he would never want her.

She was so young she had watched him kiss and faun over the most beautiful girls in the small town he would never look at her.

Now that bucky was back and them standing face to face was nerve wracking.

She hadn't seen him about three years, he didnt come home much for the holidays or summer. He would spend them with his ex long time girlfriend Natasha, she was into jazz and drank dark coffee wore black turtlenecks and round sunglasses she wrote poetry to. He never called ethier.

The one promise he made to the fourteen year old y/n was he promised to call her but soon after the first two months he stopped. It hurt yes losing a close friend but y/n told herself that he was busy. Why would an 18 wanna be friends with a 14 year old.

He was a grownup now and y/n knew that. so she never really thought much about the fact that still even years later and even now that shes 18, her heart still jumps a little and hope floots when shes hears the phone ring. But it's never him. She was sure he probably didnt even remember the promise to begin with. So now here they stood face to face for the first time in three years and boy did things change.

"I was skipping rocks at the lake and I accidentally hit wans in the head with one" Pietro gulityly said.

"Well at least shes okay" steve sighed a breath of relief. He was always found of his little sisters hippie redheaded friend. Y/n stood awkwardly so did bucky.

"Hi james" y/n said a tight meek smile on her face. Buckys eyes barely meeting hers.

"Hey, tad" tad was short for tadpole it was a nickname he gave her one spring afternoon when he and her would catch frongs in the stream near buckys house.

Then he realized what she called him just now. She called him james, she never called him that even since they were kids she always had a plethora of nicknames for him. Buckaroo,buck, buck-o, and jamie. His favorite one of all them.

Y/n was the only person aloud to call him Jamie NO one else. No ex lovers, or one night stands, they did not have the right to call him that it was his and y/n's thing. But now his heart hurt a little but he would never openly admit that. His father was talking to magda and y/n was now talking to steve. Bucky took in her tan skin from spending time out in the sun, her hair wet and flowing over her shoulders from the lake water.

She still wore her bathing suit, oh she was gorgeous- no he couldn't think like that. He wouldn't let that happen, she was the little girl he left all those years ago and she would always to be to him. Driving home was peaceful compared to the day that happened earlier, the sun setting on the small town in washington. The windows rolled down as the music played, soon she was home seeing Steve's car parked in the drive and buckys, an unsettling amount of butterflies stomped their way through her body.

When y/n opened she was met with a mouth watering smell of Sarah's cookies.

"I'm home!"

The young girl yelled no response came from anybody, she walked through the the kitchen and stood in front of the French glass doors that led outside. Steve,bucky,Sarah, and y/n's mom all sat on the patio talking. Y/n went up to her room quickly changing into a hoodie and shorts. Running down the stairs swinging open the door she walked outside.

Buckys head turned to see what the noise was. Y/n she was always banging around could never sit still. A craving for adventure. Another thing bucky remembered about y/n. After Bucky left this small Washington town he seemed to forget the people in it as well. Sadly that included y/n, the things he knew about her he had forgotten.

How? He didnt know, she used to be his favorite person why isn't she anymore?

"Hi guys!" She cheered "Hey come here" steve said with his amrs out.

Y/n quickly rushing into his arms. "Hows adult life?"

She asked well sitting down next to bucky -the only open seat.

As the conversation went on bucky was coming to the realization that y/n was no longer the little kid he once saw her as. She was not the girl that would follow him wherever he went with her puppy love eyes.

She had grown up, apart of him was sad he didnt get to be there for her in big moments but he also needed to break away from the small town and the exceptions it had for him.

Bucky and y/n didnt talk much throughout the night

Sarah caught on but said nothing. There were to many feelings the pair were dying to get out. To many unspoken words stuck in their throats.

Buckys parents were going out of town for the next two weeks with his little sister Rebecca to go touring colleges. So bucky really had nothing to do but hang around the Rogers/ y/l/n house hold.

That night after he said goodnight to his family and went to his old room again more memories came to him -the last one that happened in this room to be exact.

"I gonna miss you jamie" 14 year old y/n said to bucky while he was packing up his final things. "I know but we can still call eachother, every day if we have too."

Bucky spoke he was trying to keep positive but the hard fact of leaving not only his home, friends, and family but also y/n was hard they were close.

"You promise you'll come back some day? And you'll call?" She said eyes down at the floor. Bucky walked over gently picking up her chin her soft y/e/c eyes looking into his while he said: "

Nothing will ever stop us from being friends. We will always be close and you'll always be my best girl tadpole." She nodded slamming her arms around him suprising him but soon he held her too. Her eyes squeezed shut.

"I love you jamie" she whispered "I love you too tad, friends forever"

bucky kissed her check goodbye and walked out of the room were his family stood by the car leaving a crying y/n upstairs. As he was descending the stairs he whispered with a sigh "I'll miss you too..."

Bucky had lied. He lied about staying close because here he was laying in bed thinking about all the ways he left her alone. He lied because they did drift apart and it was his fault.

He had time to call y/n once week and even once a day but then he met Natasha. And at first he was excited to tell y/n about her and he was excited to tell Natasha about her and his home.

But he got caught up in her. Sex, kisses,dates, her friends and hobbies, but the meager thing that stopped him everytime from picking up the phone was the way she commented about y/n. She was jealous but he didnt know why?

Y/n was 14 and she was 18 but that didnt stop her forming taking down the framed pictures of him and y/n some were from when y/n and him were children and some were recent like the one were he's kissing her check in the photo booth at the state fare, her cheeks pink while steve and sam laughed beside the two bucky and y/n.

Natasha told bucky that he was insane for being friends with y/n still. That he needed to grow up and let her go because his old life was toxic. It was not, he had a good life a really good life.

And everytime he did call y/n she would find some excuse to pull him away or she would stay in the room and listen.

He regrets that he cared so much about her and his sex life then his friend.

Part two here

A/N: I I'm trying to write this before summer ends but I'm kinds lost and dont know if it's good please comment and tell me if I should finish it! I plan on making it one long one shot. Thank you!

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ramp-it-up · 3 years ago

Text

Always

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

AU: MCU A/U, timeline between Civil War and Endgame, then jumps to TFATWS

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Alternate MCU facts/timeline, cursing, angst, drinking, slight dubcon oral, (F, M receiving) fingering, dirty talk, Captain kink, size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up!). Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: I am an MCU nerd but not a timeline detail gal. Please forgive me if the timeline is off. This is an alternate universe and a work of fiction. Please have fun with it!

This is a result of this ask from @lovebittenbyevans:

If yu take requests can I get Chris or Steve rogers as reader baby daddy or ex husband and stop reader from marrying someone else

Hope you like it!

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Wanda was the one who found you, despite you being in hiding for 10 years.

She and Vision found you in a bar in the Heights, Willy’s, pool sharking naive tourists. Your super speed helped you cheat, earn money, and get away from angry marks. No one peeped it, except Wanda.

They kept coming around, challenging you, and showing you up, because no matter how fast you were, you couldn’t beat Vision’s perfection, or Wanda’s magic. Showing themselves to you was the first step in winning you over.

You’d been on your own for ten years, since you were 13, when you escaped from the facility your parents sold you to, and the ease of falling in love with these beings astounded you.

Wanda’s fire was evident in her eyes, but her heart was as pure as the unheard hum of Vision’s machinery.

Wanda pursued you relentlessly. Finally you asked her, “Why me?”

She just shrugged and answered, munching on the french fries that Vision ordered, but didn’t eat.

“Because you are special. And you are good.”

No one else had ever thought that of you. Even your mother. So you didn’t care about the Accords, and you damn sure didn’t give a shit about them being fugitives; you’d been one your whole life. When you met them, you became family.

Wanda was the sister you never had, Sam was your big brother, Nat wasn’t your mom, but you wish she had been as strong as Natasha, and Vision watched out for you all.

And Steve, well Steve was an enigma. He was moody and mysterious and different than you ever thought Captain America would be. His hair was longer, a beard coming in nicely.

You were shook. This wasn’t the naive choir boy that was in your history books.

To you, Steve was polite but still intimidating. America’s ex Golden Boy had manners which were impeccable, but his very presence seemed invasive. He made you feel things, things that you were afraid of, but wanted to explore.

The night you joined them, he greeted you and showed you to your room. It was clear. He was the leader. After looking around the space, you turned to see him leaning against the doorway.

“Can I trust you?”

You knew what he meant. You outing them would necessitate they pick up and move again, not that they all stayed there all the time. Nat was in and out, and Sam flew over to Louisiana frequently to check on family. But they would leave Houston for good if you revealed this location.

“Wanda is my girl. My first real friend. I know that is weird for a full grown woman, but I don’t want to lose her.”

You looked him up and down, appreciating the ripped body beneath his clothes. Your own body was tense, fight or flight defensive mode activated by his question. You were ready to leave if he was hostile.

Steve’s nostrils flared and he returned your appraisal, eyes sweeping over your form, clad in leggings and Rockets t-shirt, but with no bra. Your nipples stiffened as he clenched his jaw and said, “Fine. You can stay.”

“Thank you,” was what you replied to his retreating back, muscles flexing and that ass punching the hell out of his slacks.

----

You started training with them, and when Steve got near you, your body reacted on its own. His (your?) favorite thing seemed to be standing directly behind you and staring down at you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

At eight inches taller and over one hundred pounds of solid muscle bigger than you, it made you feel tiny, but not small. Him being 80 years older than you made you feel inexperienced, even though you’d seen and done your fair share in your 23 years.

Steve Rogers made you feel brand new.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him when he wasn’t near, eyes drawn to him like a magnet. You wanted him next to you all the time, if only for his warmth. For the safety he provided. You’d never felt anything like it.

Soon safety turned to lust, and when Steve was nearby, that meant you were wet. Your body relaxed more around him and Steve seemed to smile more, at everyone but you.

For you, there was a steel blue glare that made you horny and excited at the same time. You didn’t have the sense to be scared at this point.

You were part of the team, going with on small operations to obtain funds and equipment from former HYDRA operative, your speed a definite asset.

Steve was always close to you, carefully mapping out the ops, and anticipating your moves in real time. He wasn’t going to let you get hurt.

You two became a team, comrades in arms and matched on every mission.

One night in Vegas, your target was hiding in plain sight as the proprietor of a 24-Hour wedding chapel. The deal was you and Steve were going to pretend to get married.

And you were supposed to finish the job before the asset completed the ceremony.

But there was a glitch in the comms, and Natasha didn’t obtain the package until three minutes past the projected time.

You and Steve stared at each other with wide eyes as the asset continued the ceremony dressed as Count Dracula. You giggled, not believing this was happening. Luckily, that only made the ruse seem more real. Steve smiled at you with real joy.

“I do. “ He was playing this part so well.

“I do.” You answered, your voice shy, but sure.

Steve smiled at you, and at the mark as they said “you may now kill, I mean kiss, the bride,” in his fake accent. Wanda rolled her eyes.

He leaned down and tilted your head up to kiss you. Those ruby red apple pie lips came closer, his breath fanning across your face, and his eyes searching yours.

Steve took your breath away, literally, when his tongue sweetly forced your lips apart and met yours, dancing there for a minute.

He picked you up and stirred your soul with that kiss and when he let you down, he was staring down at you with forever in his eyes after releasing your lips from his.

You were about to go in for another when Nat gave the congratulations and all-clear in your earpiece.

You dropped into position, your neon yellow spandex dress riding up to reveal a gun on your inner thigh. Steve’s eyes took in your matching lace panties and then quickly went to work. The operation was a success.

You had to endure the teasing on the quinjet, even though you and Steve weren’t legally married since you’d used aliases on the wedding license. You laughed along and teased them back, but Steve just smiled and remained quiet.

You went to your room after you returned and soaked in a hot bath to soothe your slightly sore muscles. You thought of the kiss, your hands slipping below the suds to touch your body.

Steve’s name left your lips softly as one hand rolled your nipple and the other reached between your legs, imagining it was him. You were almost there when you heard a loud knock on your door.

You opened it to Steve on the other side looking wild. His blue eyes bored into yours and his red lips were moist.

You clutched your robe closed at your neck.

“Steve, what are you….?”

“It’s our wedding night. What are you doing to yourself Sweetheart? Hell, what are you doing to me?”

He pushed his way inside, picked you up and pushed you up against the door, kissing you like he did at the altar. You were breathless again. He started kissing your neck and growling in your ear.

“I could hear what you were doing. Were you playing with what is mine?”

Your whole body clenched when he said that, and your arousal started leaking down your thigh along with the bath suds.

Steve was looking down at you, licking his lips as he peeled the robe away from your damp body. His eyes widened at the sight of your breasts. He took them gently in his hands, rolling both nipples between each finger and thumb.

“Ohhhh. Steve…. Mmmmmmm.” You looked up at him as you bit your lip.

“You like that?”

He bent down and kissed them, licking, biting, and sucking each one, causing your back to arch against the door and your pelvis to move toward his.

He continued to suck one breast as one hand trailed down your torso, over your belly to your mound, which was underneath a full bush.

“I saw this through the lace today and I decided to finally have you. It’s just like I like it. The way it’s intended to be.”

You whimpered as his long thick fingers parted your folds, your wetness made embarrassingly evident through sound. He played with your clit, roughly, pinching it a little and then played in your juices, rubbing them around.

You expected his fingers to enter you but he pulled them back to his mouth and tasted them, pulling them out slowly as he watched you shudder.

“Damn. You taste as good as you smell. Like mine. You’ve been mine for a while now, haven’t you?”

He looked at you with those eyes.

“You know, I can smell you every time you get wet.”

You gasped and he pushed those fingers inside your mouth. You sucked them clean of your juices and his saliva as he groaned, pulling them out and pushing them into your cunt.

Your body sucked them in further, causing him to arch his eyebrow and lunge toward your mouth. He kissed you passionately and then fucked his fingers into you while palming himself over his sweats. Your eyes were rolling back into your head just from his fingers. You couldn’t imagine….

His teeth were gritted now at your ear, his voice breaking.

“Do you know how I’ve had to hold myself back these past few weeks? Do you know how much you break me down? You take most of my brain capacity when I’m not working. I’ve jacked gallons of cum down the drain thinking of you. You feel so good Sweetheart, and I can’t wait to feel you around me. But first…”

He lifted you up against the door. Your legs were wrapped around his broad shoulders and you were leaning against the top of the doorframe, one hand in his long blond hair, and one on the ceiling for purchase.

His beard felt so good between your legs. You were whimpering like a trapped animal, but you didn’t register it.

Steve was sucking your clit like he was hoping to draw something from you, making your toes curl and your body tense. You finally released your tension and your fluid all over Steve’s face. Your mind was jello as he moved you effortlessly to the bed, stripping off your robe.

You hazily watched him take off his sweatshirt and wipe his face with it, stand before you and hook his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Wait!”

You sat up and gripped the waistband of his pants, looking up at him coyly and fingering his v-cut as you pulled them down. He just smirked down at you as the expression on your face changed when you saw it. It had to be as big as your forearm.

“Don’t worry, you can take it Sweetheart.”

Steve was pumping his glorious cock in front of your face and you found yourself holding out your tongue to catch his falling pre cum like snowflakes. It was as wondrous. And delicious.

Steve painted your lips with his glaze and then pushed between them. You opened wide, letting him fuck your mouth as you weighed his heavy balls in your hand.

You looked up at him to see his jaw go slack as he watched. When he held the back of your head, and you let him stretch your throat out, he moaned.

“That’s it, be a good girl for your Captain.”

He wiped your tears away as you struggled to take half of him.

“So beautiful.”

You only gagged around him for a little while before he pulled out of your mouth, lifted you and threw you back on the bed. He crawled up toward you, spreading your legs as wide as they could go.

“When we got married today it felt so right. You're mine.”

Steve was swiping his dick through your folds and you could swear there were sparks coming off it.

“Please, Steve. Yessss.”

“You want it?”

“I do.”

“I do too.”

Steve slowly began to sink inside you as you keened.

The stretch would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. He had to work it in as both of you panted to get oxygen. When he was fully sheathed inside you, he stayed still a while, forehead against yours.

“Mine. Always.”

He started moving, pumping in and you couldn’t help but start cumming because the second he started moving it felt better than anything you’d ever imagined.

Steve grunted in your ear. “Good girl, taking my cock so well. Told you you’re mine. I'm gonna train all your holes.”’

The filthy things Captain America was whispering in your ear caused multiple orgasms to run together and soon you were ruined, begging for him to cum so you could rest.

Steve chuckled. “You think that will stop me? I could do this all night.”

When he did cum, both of you were soaked. Steve carried you to your lukewarm bath, climbed in with you and picked you where you left off when he so rudely interrupted.

----

“I’m gonna marry you for real one day.”

In the privacy of your room, Steve was a teddy bear, to the world, he was a fallen angel.

You two shared your small joy for a little while, despite what was going on in the world. He made you feel protected. Your little family accepted your relationship, and you were happy.

Until the end of the world came knocking on the door. Playtime and fantasy land were over. It was time to fight. Wanda and Vision had left, and needed help. Things were getting dangerous. Steve forbade you to go with.

“I need to tell you something… when we get back.”

He was leaving to board the quinjet with Sam and Nat. Things looked grim.

“What is it Steve?”

You were anxious and worried, but you were trying to be strong.

Despite the seriousness of the situation he gave you a little smile.

“Patience. We have time. We have Always..”

He kissed you goodbye and that was the last you saw of him.

The world was in danger and he was busy saving it. You survived on encrypted texts on burner phones. Then for a long time, nothing, as you watched the battles from afar. With the Stark, with the government, with Thanos.

------------------------------------------------------

Then, all of a sudden, you woke up and it was five years later.

Sam found you and brought you to New York. He broke the news. Vision, Natasha, both gone. Wanda was inconsolable. And Steve had disappeared. You felt abandoned. All over again.

You don’t know Bucky existed.

Well, you knew he existed but you didn’t know that he was alive. And what he’d been through. That must have been what Steve wanted to tell you.

You first saw him when you were in Med Bay being checked out. Bucky passed by with a doctor and he looked good for a one hundred year old ghost. Hard, but good. He caught you looking and those blue eyes read you as they locked in. You shivered.

The lack of information about Steve only added to your confusion and frustration. Sam was silent, your friend, but Steve’s ally. He wouldn’t give you anything. You loved him, but you were resentful.

So you sought out the other person who might know the truth. Bucky.

You befriended him, sitting silently with him as he read the newspaper in the morning. He just looked at you and grunted, accepting the cup of black coffee you handed him every day. One day you finally spoke.

“Who reads the newspaper anymore?”

“Shut it, kid, I mean, Mrs. Rogers. Go play with your blocks.” His voice was gruff, but his eyes were twinkling behind the paper.

You pulled yourself up to your full 5’3”.

“We were never really married. And I’m 24… I mean 29?” You calculated the blip years in your mind. “Shit.”

You plopped down on the sofa, ready to cry. Again. You had nothing.

“Sorry, kid. I know what it’s like to lose time. Among other things.”

You smiled at him through your tears and he grimaced at you and that’s when you became friends.

Then that shit John Walker took the shield and Bucky and Sam disappeared for a while. Before you knew it, Sam was the new Captain America. It made you smile. Steve would have wanted that.

Bucky was different, lighter, when he and Sam returned. He started talking to you. Really talking to you. He stayed by your side as you vegetated on the couch, going to talk therapy with you. Where neither of you talked.

He seemed to know more about Steve than he was letting on, but the most important thing was that you both loved and missed him.

What was understood did not need to be said.

Slowly, you came back to life, and you and Bucky became inseparable. Soon, your loneliness turned into need, and you turned to each other for solace.

Bucky’s hungry gaze followed you everywhere when you weren’t next to him.

You felt an insane need to protect a super soldier.

Need turned into affection, with smiles only the other could elicit from the other.

One poker night when Sam abandoned you two to yourselves, it happened. It was the first night you didn’t talk about Steve.

The Macallan was making you loose. Bucky was keeping up, and in your head you knew it didn’t affect him, but in your heart you were tired of being alone. So you forgot that regular spirits don’t affect super soldiers.

Bucky suggested you play for clothes instead of money and you agreed. Bucky grinned, pushing down some guilt as you assented.

Steve left. Both of you. There was nothing to feel guilty about.

You danced as you won another hand, although you suspected Bucky let you. He was shirtless and he stood up, metal arm glinting in the light as he stripped off his black jeans. You exhaled as he revealed black boxer briefs underneath. And then you stared at the baseball bat he was hiding inside them.

His seduction was complete.

You stood there, naked except for your Rockets t-shirt as you watched him smell your panties, which were on top of the pile beside him.

“C’mere Doll. Come sit on my lap.”

——-

Before you knew it, you were staring into Bucky’s deep blue eyes as you rode his cock.

He looked deep into your soul as you opened your mouth to catch your breath. His eyes flickering down to your lips made you clench around him and he smirked at you.

“Gonna cum for me?”

His hands were on your rib cage and his thumbs were playing your nipples like a game controller.

“Ahh. James!”

“Tell me about it, Doll.”

One thumb slipped down to your clit while you arched your back. The other broad hand supported your back. The way his eyes swept down your body to where you were connected was everything.

Your body started shaking as he thrummed your button and he looked into your eyes again.

“Gonna give me what I need? Need to feel you cum around me.”

You clamped your mouth shut and shook your head a little, defiance in your eyes.

Bucky groaned, looking deeper into you.

“Love it when you deny me. You know I’ve wanted you for a while, you just like being a tease.”

He stood up, spearing himself into you as he easily picked you up, hands under your ass maneuvering you up and down his cock.

The room was full of your scent and the sounds of his dick invading your wet pussy. He moved you around his cream soaked cock, making you see stars as he hit that spot.

After you came, He pulled out and deposited you on the bed on your hands and knees, clutching your hair in his metal fist as he pounded you from behind.

“You drive me crazy. Your scent is everything. I love the way you smell, Doll.”

The familiarity of this phrase made your heart clench, and your body as well.

Bucky grabbed the bottom of his cock and balls with his metal hand and started digging into you, his whirring thumb ghosting over your puckered hole.

That fist was large; only half of him was getting inside you. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. You started trying to throw yourself back on his vibrating hand.

“Oh, what’s this? You want it that bad?”

You started whining. “Give it to me…”

You didn’t want to beg, but damn it was hot.

“What? This?”

Bucky pulled almost all the way out, removed his hand and thrust his thickness deep inside you sliding in one smooth movement and burying himself to the hilt..

“Fuuuck!”

Bucky groaned with you, almost forgetting that he was trying to do something. He stilled and you felt his dick jumping inside you.

“Feel that? Feel what you do do me?”

You whined his name again.

“Shhhh.” Bucky started to move. “You said you didn’t want to cum.. “

You just moaned and arched your back, positioning your ass perfectly.

“Oh? Is this how it is? You want me to fuck you like a whore?”

“Please…” You looked back and looked him in his eyes.

“Yeah?” He then slapped your ass as his hips started snapping into you.

“Ah ah ah ah.” You were panting now.

“You. Gonna. Cum for me now?”

“Unnnnhh…”

“I can’t hear you.”

“Ye, ye, yesssss!”

“I should make you wait.”

But he was pounding you harder and you clenched around him, your pussy made him not want to stop.

You were making him cum and so he came with you, lost forever to your charms.

—————

And here you go again. In love with another super soldier.

Bucky proposed on the balcony at a party at the compound. You happily said yes, planning on getting married in a small ceremony. When you told Sam, he didn’t look happy, but he smiled at you with his mouth and glared at Bucky.

You didn’t know what was up with that, but you weren’t going to let him harsh your mellow.

Just a few weeks later, you were shaking your head as you looked in the mirror of the wedding venue, checking to see how your dress fit.

You wished Wanda and Nat and….

You wished everyone were here, but you and Bucky were going to make a new family. Sam was going to walk you down the aisle. You could tell he didn’t want to, but he was going to do it for you.

You walked to the altar in a daze, Bucky smiling at you when you made it to him. You laughed and wiped some tears from his eyes. He did the same for you. The emotion was strong.

You listened to the official, only zoning in as they said, “If any man has just cause…”

The hair on the back of your neck stood up and Bucky’s eyes went wide.

Steve cleared his throat behind you.

“I’m sorry, Buck.”

Steve put his hands on your arms as he whispered to you.

“I can’t let you do this, Sweetheart. You’re mine. Always.”

You never fainted in your whole life.

But there was a first time for everything.

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Who do you think Reader will choose? Let me know if you choose to comment or reblog!

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