#captain marvel x fem reader

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers

// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader

// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.

// Wordcount // 6.714 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff

// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber

// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.

// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest

// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //

Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.

Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.

Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.

So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?

“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.

You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.

“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.

“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.

“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.

“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.

“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”

“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.

“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”

“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.

“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”

You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?

“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.

You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.

“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.

It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.

“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”

“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.

“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“

“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.

“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.

“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.

He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.

For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?

You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.

Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.

The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.

How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?

For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.

Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.

He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.

Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.

You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.

“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.

“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.

After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.

Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.

Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.

When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.

After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.

As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.

He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.

A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.

“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.

A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”

His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.

Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.

“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.

Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.

“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.

You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.

“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.

Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.

“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.

“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.

“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.

Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.

“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.

Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.

“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.

You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.

Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.

Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.

“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.

“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.

He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.

Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.

Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.

Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.

You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.

“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”

You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.

Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?

“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”

“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.

“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.

“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.

With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.

“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.

“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.

He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.

You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.

“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.

“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.

Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.

“You’re sure, omega?”

“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”

Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.

“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.

Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.

“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.

He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.

He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.

So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.

“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.

He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.

“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.

“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.

Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.

Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”

Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.

“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.

“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.

“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”

You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.

“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.

You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.

“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.

Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.

Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”

Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.

Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.

When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.

“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.

“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.

You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.

“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.

You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”

“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.

“Why are you always so fucki—“

“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”

You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.

“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”

You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”

He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.

“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”

“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.

“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”

You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.

“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @blackhawkfanatic @multiversefanfics @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @elyse-harper81 @loki-laufeyson68

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Their Princess

Mob bosses!Wandanat x Carol, Valkyrie, and Kate x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Dom/sub dynamics, R refers to Wanda and Natasha as Mommy and Daddy, Overstimulation, polyamory, slight exhibitionism, training/conditioning(implied), objectification, jealousy/envy, orgasm control, aftercare

Authors notes: Fuck I've never written anything like this before and I struggled a bit with it. Thank you @scarlethexelove for helping me figure out what I'd be doing with everyone and how to end it.

You loved being their princess. 

Wanda and Natasha, the powerful mob bosses who run the city with elegance and terror, have a soft spot for you. They made it clear that you're their favorite plaything, cherished and protected. Their desire for you is known to all in their inner circle, and when they’re off handling serious business, they make sure you’re well taken care of—especially during meetings that might take longer than expected.

Today was no different. The luxurious house, well practically a mansion, where they housed you was immaculate, all sleek marble, soft rugs, and leather furniture, everything pristine as a reflection of their control over the world outside. 

You had the place to yourself for the most part, but not entirely. Wanda and Natasha left you in the care of three members of their trusted circle: Carol, Val, and Kate.

While you had been left in their hands for protection, it quickly became apparent they had other things in mind.

Carol leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed, her short blonde hair mussed up in that effortless way, the corner of her mouth curled in amusement as she watched you. 

Val lounged casually in a nearby chair, swirling a glass of bourbon, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. Kate, meanwhile, sat beside you on the couch, her posture deceptively relaxed. But you could feel the tension brewing between them.

“So,” Carol said, breaking the silence, “how do you feel about killing time with us until our two bosses come back?” Her eyes raked over you slowly taking in the little outfit Wanda had decided today. A short plaid skirt, a tight low cut top, and a pair of cute slip-on sneakers.

You shifted under their gazes, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. There was no mistaking their intent. They had been instructed to watch over you, but they clearly had other plans.

Val set her glass down and leaned forward, her smirk widening. “I’d say we’re more than capable of keeping you occupied,” she purred, her voice low and teasing.

Kate’s hand moved to your thigh, her fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin. Your legs instinctively opened, making you bite the inside of your lip. “What do you think?” she asked, her voice playful. “They won’t be back for a while.”

You swallowed, glancing nervously between the three of them. You knew Wanda and Natasha were possessive. You were their favorite, after all. But a part of you couldn’t deny the excitement rushing through your veins.

Val noticed your hesitation and chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling. We won’t tell if you don’t.”

Carol’s smirk deepened as she pushed off the doorframe, moving to join you on the couch, sitting on your other side. “They’ll understand,” she murmured, her fingers brushing your cheek, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. “You’re theirs, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun while they’re gone.”

Kate, already leaning close, pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, her lips warm against your skin. “We’ll take good care of you,” she whispered.

The combination of their closeness and the promises in their eyes made your pulse quicken. Carol’s grip on your chin tightened slightly as her gaze darkened, while Val’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched, clearly enjoying your predicament. Kate’s fingers slid higher up your thigh, and you couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through you.

“I wonder who’s going to leave the most memorable impression,” Val mused with a sly smile, standing up and circling the couch, her eyes never leaving you. “Or maybe it’ll be a little of all of us.”

Your breath hitched, your body betraying you as Carol leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “We’re going to have so much fun, sweetheart.”

Kate's hand finally found its spot over your panties, rubbing tight circles against you and pulling a moan out of your lips. Your head lulled back and went to the side as Carol’s lips moved up your neck. Val’s hands found your chest. Pinching your nipples making more moans spill out your lips.

Just as the tension between all of you reached its peak, the sound of the penthouse door unlocking echoed through the room. All eyes snapped toward the entrance, where Wanda and Natasha stepped inside, looking as imposing as ever.

Wanda’s sea-glass eyes swept over the scene, taking in the way you were surrounded by their trusted companions. Natasha’s deep green gaze narrowed slightly as her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Seems like we’re interrupting,” Natasha remarked, her voice smooth but dangerous.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. “We leave for one meeting, and you all start without us?”

The three women quickly backed off, looking both amused and a little apprehensive under the gazes of the mob bosses.

Wanda approached you first, cupping your cheek with a possessive touch. “Did they behave themselves?” she asked softly, but the glint in her eyes warned that she already knew the answer.

Natasha came to stand behind you, her hands resting on your shoulders, squeezing them gently. “Don’t worry, printsessa. You’re still ours,” she whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Natasha looks at the three of them before moving over to the loveseat. Letting her muscular arm rest along the back, you felt yourself throb seeing her veins. 

“Go on you three. Show us what you can do.” Tasha speaks as she motions Wanda to come sit with her. 

Carol was the first to move, pulling out her strap as she lifted you. She sat herself down and then you on her lap, letting you slowly sink down onto her cock.

She had you facing outward. Seeing Wanda and Natasha watch you like their favorite movie while Kate came back over. Moving between your legs and letting her lips wrap around your clit; sucking, making you moan out and your head lull back before Val is grabbing your face and guiding you to her strap. 

You let your lips wrap around the faux cock just as you do with Wanda and Tasha. Moans and whimpers come out of you.

Build up after build up happens, but you know there won't be a release not from these three. You're fuzzy and your vision is a little blurry as you look at Mommy. 

Wanda is giving you a faux pout, "Go on detka, say it." And you whine out  

"I need Mommy and Daddy to cum!" You cry out. You're overstimulated by all the build up. You knew they'd been training you, but you never thought it would actually work. 

"Stop." Natasha demands of the others. They all immediately stop what they are doing. 

"Let us show you three how it's really done." Wanda walks to you.  

You're already all hazy and needy, so you're reaching out for Wanda, and she picks you up right out of Carol’s lap. You can feel her strap and Nat comes up behind you, whispering in your ear, "You need Mommy and Daddy? How about you ride Mommy while Daddy fucks you in the ass?"

All you can do is let out a high-pitched whine and nuzzle into Wanda. 

"Those aren't words princess." Tasha whispers in your ear.

"Please let me ride Mommy while Daddy fucks my ass..." You whine out and the two mob bosses smirk at each other. 

"Good girl." Wanda kisses your head. Taking the both of you to the couch. She positions herself, laying down with you hovering over her strap. Nat climbs up behind you. 

Nat pushes inside of you first and you practically cum just from that. Then Wanda is pulling you down onto her. You're already trembling from them filling you up.

It's all overwhelming but not enough at the same time. You just desperately need them. 

"Pl-please... Mommy, Daddy, need you." You whine out. 

"Oh our poor girl just needs to be used. Doesn't she?" Wanda asks and you nod frantically. 

"Yes Mommy please need you both to use me." And the two of them don't hesitate on their thrusts. Fucking you brainless. You end up losing track of how many times you've cum before both of them empty into you. 

You collapse onto Wanda as Nat pulls out to go clean up and grab something for you two. You blink a few times and see the other three girls, naked and looking just as blissed out as you. You'd completely forgotten they were there watching.

Wanda runs her fingers up and down your spine. To sooth you as you nuzzle into her chest. She kisses your head. "Such a good girl for Mommy and Daddy. Such a good toy." She mumbles against your head. 

It sends a shiver through you. She'd do it every time to ground you back down. You smile and close your eyes. Wanda looked over at the other three girls. "See that's how you make her cum. Though it was a losing game you were playing. We trained her months ago only to cum for us, by us." 

The girls all let out a groan as they lay in a mess of tangled limbs. You let out a little whine, nuzzling and hiding your face against Wanda. She chuckles and shushes you.  

Natasha walks back in with bottles of water and some snacks. 

"Come on all of you, water, snacks, time for some aftercare." Luckily for everyone the couch was enormous and though you wanted to stay with Wanda you lean up and whisper in her ear, 

"Can I snuggle with Kate?" Wanda furrows her brow a moment, but then she notices the slightly hurt expression on Kate's face as Val and Carol get comfy together. 

"Go on princess. I've got Tasha." You smile and kiss her before grabbing a blanket and Kate's hand. She's taken by surprise as you pull the two of you over to the chaise and get comfy. 

Everyone gets comfy as light flickers from the fireplace and Wanda puts on one of her favorite sitcoms. 

You nuzzle into Kate as you slowly drift in and out of sleep. The room is peaceful, with everyone comfortable and snuggled up. 

Everyone slowly drifted off to sleep. The last thing on your mind being, it was worth catching Wanda's eyes at the diner that day.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a

[waltermis]

Rumor

Natasha: Moya Lyubov', I heard an interesting rumor today…

Y/N: Only one? I started like twenty.

Tony: I started thirty something...

Scott: Twelve, but they're awesome ones!

*Everybody looking at Sam*

Sam: Oh, I haven't stopped since Ultron...

Y/N: SAM! Ultron was 4 years ago!!!

Sam: Exactly!!

*Somewhere deep inside the compound*

Steve: WHO SAID THAT I WAS A NAZI?!?!

*Natasha looks at everyone*

Y/N: RUN!!!

BONUS:

Clint: *casually sitting in the vents above everyone, knowing full well that he's the one that started the Nazi rumor*

[tldrthor]

The Princess (and the chaos she brings with her) - steve rogers x fem!reader (1/?)

Summary: when Thor asked the avengers to guard a dear friend of his, they didn't think twice before saying yes. What they didn't know was that said friend is the princess of one of the nine realms, and a lost love of one Captain Rogers.

Part 1 // I thought you were dead // word count: 3.5k

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

"(y/n), you have to eject, right now!" Steve screamed over the torrents of wind whistling through the ship. Schmidt was dead, gone. So was the tesseract. But it wasn't over yet. "I have to put her in the water!"

The girl behind him widened her eyes, battling against the elements to reach him. "There's no world in which I let you do that, Captain!"

"I'm not asking for permission!"

"Well then, I guess we go down together!" She painstakingly made her way to him, every step a feat of strength. Her previously neatly pinned curls no longer even resembled what they once were as her hair whipped around her face.

As Steve turned to face her, she somehow still looked angelic. He felt that right now, she was more heavenly than ever. He couldn't let her die with him.

"Buckle in." He commanded, as they began their quick descent. He looked at her, the first woman who had ever made him feel seen, the only person he had ever met who was as crazy as he was.

As the ice flew closer, he turned and placed a hand tenderly on her face. Tears welled in his eyes as his mind wandered to the future they could've had. God, they could have been amazing.

"I'm sorry, (y/n)." He whispered. She could only just hear it, even though they were right next to each other.

He pulled the yellow ejection lever on the seat she had just buckled herself into, watching as her eyes widened. "No! Steve, no!" She lifted her hands to stop him, to jam the lever, anything to stay with him. She wasn't quick enough.

Steve closed his eyes as her seat was ejected, hearing her scream his name. There was no world where he allowed her to go down with him, and he trusted that wherever she ended up, Stark and Peggy would find her. He hoped they would be able to find him, too.

He hadn't prayed in a long time, but as he went down, he bargained with God for her safety.

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

"It is my honour to introduce the new and improved Captain America and the Howling Commandos exhibit, in honour of the 100th birthday of Captain Steven Grant Rogers." The crowd clapped as the senator stepped off the podium, motioning for Steve to take the mic. Bucky and Sam laughed at how uncomfortable the Captain was as he stood thanking everyone for an exhibit he never wanted. All part of the job, he supposed.

After the handshakes, and the photo ops, and the autographs and the meet and greets, the boys finally got relative peace to wander around the new exhibition.

"I can't believe you used to wear these stupid suits." Sam laughed, standing in front of the main exhibit. Bucky sighed, budging Sam's shoulder. "Says the asshole who wears a bird suit to fight." He retorts.

Steve laughed at his friends antics, but walked away when he noticed an addition to the exhibit he hadn't seen before. He stared, wide eyed at the name in front of him.

(Y/N): THE MISSING HERO?

Steve found himself drinking in every inch of the gorgeous photo underneath the text, her bright smile and barely visible freckles. The lighting highlighted the different hues in her immaculately pinned hair. She looked just like an angel, as she always did in real life.

Steve looked down, forlorn eyes investigating very few artefacts in the glass exhibit. Her folded uniform, found in her room after the plane went down. The blush lipstick you wore every day. Finally, an object that Steve didn't recognise. A golden ring, encrusted in unidentified jewels and a family crest no one knew. He frowned.

He had known her only a short few months, but he regretted never asking about her family. And now, it would haunt him that he never did until his last breath.

"They never found her, huh?" Bucky placed his covered hand on Steve's shoulder, a sadness tinged in his voice. He had only met (y/n) briefly, but he knew even then that Steve's heart rested in the palm of that woman's hand.

He had asked about her, once, but the look on Steve's face when her name was mentioned told him everything he needed to know.

"No. Howard searched for years, found nothing. Turned out that she had lied on her intake forms for the SSR, too. We don't even know if (y/n) was really her name." He took a beat. "We have no idea if she survived or not."

Steve didn't have to make the subtext clear, Bucky knew he worried that he had killed her by ejecting her from that plane. Bucky also knew there was no sense in trying to tell him she would have died either way, that the ice would've killed her.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, after another few moments of silence.

Steve nodded, looking at the photo. "I'm glad she's remembered. I just wish I didn't have so many unanswered questions."

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

"So," Tony started. "Thor is arriving with the guest of honour later today, who we have agreed to protect here for the meantime. We don't have a lot of background for this one. The dark elves are the ones we're protecting her against, but Thor said threat could come from many areas. Do we have any questions?"

The team looked nothing short of bored. Well, most of them. Cap always had the good grace to sit up and look interested. Scott was straight up asleep.

"Is she important? How long will she be staying with us?" Steve asked.

"No idea, and uh, no idea. Anything else?"

"Is she single?" Sam asked, earning a laugh from some of the others. Steve shook his head disapprovingly, but smiled at his friend's levity.

As Steve stood up to go back to training, FRIDAY sounded around the room. "Excuse me everyone, my satellites have detected a bifrost signal heading for the compound imminently."

"Speak of the devil!" Tony clapped his hands as everyone headed out to the bifrost landing site (something that had been instituted after Tony's lawn got scorched one too many times).

Bucky smacked Scott upside the head to wake him up with a jolt. "Oh, where are you guys going?" He called behind them, jogging to catch up. Steve waited behind from him, laughing at his groggy friend.

A bright light connected with the grass just beside the landing site. Tony's hands covered his eyes as he mouthed are you fucking kidding me. When the light cleared, Thor stood tall in his usual armour.

"My friends!" His voice boomed, "I present to you, my fellow avengers, the honourable princess of Alfheim, jewel of the Alfar and ambassador to Asgard." Thor's voice boomed through the halls of the compound. "This is my friend, (y/n)."

Beside Thor stood a girl. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a heavenly stature. She looked like she could have been carved from marble by the hands of God himself.

A light Asgardian pink dress was covered by a golden chest-plate which fit her body like it had been moulded just for her. It was covered in intricate etchings of suns and stars, which caught the light and shone brilliantly. She wore golden jewellery, which was nothing like the avengers had ever seen. Golden ear cuffs covered her pointed ears, with her long hair pulled into an up-do, emphasising the golden, bejewelled tiara on her head.

"Princess?" Sam squeaked. Wanda smacked him, with a look that screamed don't embarrass us.

Tony tilted his head in confusion at the guest, who he could almost swear he recognised from somewhere. "Thor, you did not inform us that we were looking after the ruler of a planet. We would have been more prepared."

"I am not ruler yet, Mr. Stark." The girl cast her eyes up at Tony, as she smiled sweetly. Her voice was honey smooth, and anyone who heard it felt themselves being charmed by it. "I have heard much about you all from Thor."

"Should we bow?" Bruce whispered to Tony, who shrugged his shoulders. Thankfully, (y/n) took the lead and shook each of their hands.

She looked around at each of the gathered avengers. Thor made his introductions to the rest of the group. "Where are the others?" Thor enquired.

"Here!" Steve smiled at the site of his old friend, his view of the princess obscured by the large man. Bucky and Scott tagged behind him, also happily greeting Thor.

"Captain, it is very good to see you. Please, let me introduce you to the Princess (y/n)." Thor stepped aside to introduce them, but his eyebrows knitted together in confusion when neither of them moved, almost frozen in place.

"Uh... hi." Scott side-stepped the Captain and caught the eye of their guest. "My name's Scott Lang."

The girl tore her eyes away from the captain, unsure really on what to do. But her training kicked in, knowing that being rude was one of the worst sins a princess could commit. "Hello, Mr. Lang. I am (y/n)."

"Holy shit." Bucky breathed out.

The rest of the avengers watched the rather silent exchange with confusion. It was very unlike Steve to get so tongue-tied, and he would never be so rude as to not introduce himself.

"Captain Rogers..." The girl spoke first, confusing them further. "I believed you dead." Tears had welled in her eyes, intriguing the observing crowd even more.

"I thought you were dead." He breathed. "What... what is going on?"

Bucky interjected. "Um, hi. I'm Bucky, we met briefly in '45."

She smiled softly at him, but her eyes betrayed her confusion. "Sergeant Barnes, of course! Didn't you... also die?"

"Yeah, we've all got a lot of explaining to do." Bucky laughed as the absurdity of the situation caught up to him.

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

Thor's eyes darted between his friend and the captain. When Thor asked the avengers to guard her from the war on Alfheim, he knew some hijinks would ensue. This is not what he expected. He knew you had spent some time on Midgard before and when you returned you were emotionally distraught. He had simply figured the war you had fought with the Midgardians had taken it's toll.

He eyed both the Captain and you, suspiciously. You were his dear friend, but you had never talked to him about any mortal love.

"So, Princess. You've been here before." Tony enquired.

The Princess licked her lips nervously, glancing at Steve, who had barely moved a muscle, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, Mr. Stark. I spent some time here during the second world war. I left Midgard when Johann Schmidt was defeated, and haven't returned since."

"Tell us about your world, Princess. I've never heard of it before." Natasha, the red-head in the corner, asked the guest.

"You have heard of it before." The princess smiled, explaining. "I believe we are now known as a fantasy character here - you call us elves." She pointed to her pointed ears as each avenger clung to her words.

Thor smiled at his Midgardian friends' curiosity.

"The Alfar still live amongst you, they are simply unseen. I believe you may know Tolkien?" At the mention of the author's name, everyone's ears pricked. "He was one of my father's greatest friends and many of his book settings were inspired by Alfheim."

"What!" Scott exclaimed. "That's insane."

"Really, Ant Man?" Bucky responded, pointing out that they were all ridiculous, when you thought about it. The world was crazy now.

The princess chuckled, and rose from her seat at the conference table. "Thank you very much for your hospitality, Avengers. I would quite like to rest in my chambers, if you would be so gracious to allow me."

"Um, yeah... consider yourself allowed." Tony stumbled over his words. Very unusual for him, and it did not go unnoticed by the others. "Dinner is at seven."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. Captain Rogers," She addressed the Captain, who looked up quickly. His face was pale, and he nervously twiddled his thumbs. "Would you be so kind as to show me my rooms?"

He popped up, almost comedically fast. "Yes. Yeah, sure. Um, this way." He walked out quickly, darting his eyes back to make sure the princess was following him.

She followed, gracefully. Her skirts fanned out behind her as she walked. The avengers in the room could scarcely take their eyes off her as she faded from sight.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the room devolved into chaos. People shouting theories and questions left, right and centre. Mostly, everyone was just bewildered. Bucky and Thor discussed how they had both known the couple separately, and whether each had talked about the other.

Natasha watched as Tony sat quietly on his tablet for a few seconds, searching for something she could only assume was relevant to the discussion at hand.

"Bucky, what's the deal there?" Clint asked.

He was interrupted by Tony. "Aha!" Stark called, silencing the room. "I knew I recognised her from somewhere."

He projected a photograph to the wall, and the avengers gasped.

The photograph consisted of Steve and Bucky front and centre. Bucky had his left arm wrapped lazily around Tony's dad, Howard. And Steve was looking directly at the girl next to him, holding her to him by the waist. It was the princess. The gaze he looked at her with... it was like nothing they had ever seen from him.

"They didn't just know each other, they were in love." Bucky replied to Clint's question, a hint of sadness underneath his words.

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

(Y/n) followed Steve along the large corridors of the compound, her smaller legs working double time to match his long strides. They walked in silence, for the most part. It wasn't the comfortable kind.

"Captain." She spoke first, again. As she called for him, he stopped walking abruptly, turning slowly. He met her gaze and then cast his eye down.

"(y/n)... I mean, um, Princess." He responded.

"(y/n) is sufficient." She whispered, almost guiltily. "I can't believe you're alive..."

"I can't believe you're alive," He retorted. "I searched for you, when I woke up. They couldn't find any records of you other than your enlistment form, and they found you had lied. People think you're just a ghost story..."

He took a breath. "I can't believe you're here and... an alien princess?"

"I know it's hard to believe, I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you back then." She laughed. "When I found that you and Sergeant Barnes were dead, I couldn't face being here anymore... I returned to Alfheim."

As she thought back on it, a tear sprung to her eye. On seeing her reaction, Steve couldn't help himself but place a friendly hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. She briefly froze at the contact, but quickly, she moved her own hand down his arm until she was holding onto his hand with both of hers.

So much went unsaid, but the contact confirmed what they had both most desperately wanted to know. Would it be the same?

"If I had known that you and Sergeant Barnes were alive, Captain..." She admitted. "I would have returned in an instant, I give you my word."

He smiled, rubbing a thumb over the back of her hand. A red blush hugged her cheeks as he did so.

It was typical of him that he couldn't concentrate on the moment, "Why are you here?" He asked. "What are we protecting you from?"

She sighed. "The Svartalfar, or the dark elves. You may know them - they attacked Thor in the Midgardian city of London some years ago now." He nodded in recognition.

"They are determined to conquer Alfheim, and have set their sights on my family. They have already managed to get close to killing me."

She pushed the collar of her dress down, showing a large, angry, red scar just above her collarbone. His hands flew up to trace the scar. She gulped at the close contact, her eyes meeting his.

His expression gave away his concern, knowing that Thor had suggested she was in a lot of danger. "Don't worry, Princess. You're safe here." He smiled, softly. "We'll protect you with everything we've got."

"Thank you, Captain."

"It's just Steve." He unhooked their hands, and gave her his arm. She linked her arm in his, and he resumed wandering down the halls to her rooms. "Do you have any bags?"

"No, I fled to Asgard with nothing when I needed healing. The Asgardians were kind enough to offer many gorgeous clothes for me to bring, but I figured they were a bit conspicuous."

Steve laughed, "Yeah, they might be."

They walked for a little while longer, before Steve entered a room to the side. It was rather basic compared to what she was used to, but it would more than suffice for the meantime.

"This is your room." He stood by the door as she entered. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything. I'll get Tony to send you some less conspicuous clothes. See you at dinner."

"Thank you, Steven." He laughed at her inability to be too informal with him. He nodded at her, and turned to walk down the hall to his room.

As he entered, the photograph of her from the Smithsonian caught his eye from the nightstand. He picked it up, tracing her features with his finger - unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. Who would've thought? Not only was his girl alive, she was also alien royalty. Sometimes, just sometimes, he adored his strange, strange world.

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

"Sir," The agent walked into the dark room with purpose in her every step. "The Princess has been spotted."

The man in the chair looked up at the mention of his target. "Show me" he ordered. He watched as agent transferred the images on her tablet to the big screen, showing grainy, far away surveillance of the avengers compound.

As low quality as the image was, the woman arriving with Thor in the distinctive Alfar dress and armour was certainly the princess.

"Oh, my dear..." The man's deep voice dragged out. "You have walked right into our sights."

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

a/n: let me know what you think! if you can't tell, this is basically the set up for a longer series... i'm really excited to explore this character and get deeper into the relationships!

i've never really written in the third person POV before, so let me know if it's something you like or not, and i can switch for the next part.

please like/reblog if you enjoy! let me know if you would like to be tagged in the next part <3

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

I still got a few rounds left in me

kinktober, day thirteen

a/n: ...i have such a thing for fighters, it's bad....

warnings: boxer!steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, domestic bliss, kissing, foreplay, bathtub sex

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

You felt like a little marshmallow floating atop a warm mug of hot chocolate as you laid there in the tub, staring out at the dark skyline. The melody of soft rain drizzling against the window lulled you even further as your hand lazily played with the bubbles foaming at the surface. 

“Hey,” you suddenly heard, spinning your head around to spot your burly boyfriend gazing at your relaxed visage from the doorway, raindrop-painted gym clothes still hugging his form. 

“Steve,” you gasped, spine straightening, “you’re home! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you would be asleep already, so I tried to be quiet.”

“In a bit, I just wanted to wash the day away first, you know?” you sighed, “fall back down to earth before I try and fall asleep…” Offering you a gentle nod, he then stepped further into the bathroom, a soft smile still fast on his lips as he began to peel his clothes off. You couldn’t help but giggly ask, “what are you doing?” as the fighter slowly revealed more and more of his rippling physique, his eyes staying locked with yours the entire time. 

“Well, I was gonna take a shower,” his shorts hit the floor mere seconds before he planted his palms on either side of the tub, “but you’re making that bath look so good.” 

As he lowered himself in, your giggle morphed into a laugh as the bubbles began to make a run for it, “you’re gonna flood the entire bathroom!”

“Then it’s a good thing we have something called towels,” fully submerged, he simply leaned in to kiss you. 

Arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, the current scooped you a bit closer, your legs intuitively entangling up and over his thick thighs. As your hands drifted over his skin, your fingers paused and took time to dig into a few of the muscles on his upper back. Parting from the tender peck, you deepened your massage momentarily as you asked, “are you sore?”

With his own arms tangled around you, he murmured, “not really, I didn’t really go too hard today,” before he lifted you further up onto his lap, his broad palm firm on your back so that your chest pressed flush against his, making your soapy tits share their suds. 

It took you approximately two seconds before you noticed the raging hard-on, poking you under the water, “oh my god…” you chuckled, tilting your chin back as you gazed at his smirk, “what are you trying to do, huh, champ?”

His hands slowly raked down your back before they found the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that shot directly to your aching clit, “like I said, I didn’t go too hard today, so I still got a few rounds left in me…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sycamorelibrary754]

We're a Family

Summary: You and Natasha are taking your first vacation since the birth of your 5-year-old daughter. While you and Natasha are off on a romantic getaway to Paris for your anniversary, how will your Avengers family handle watching your daughter for the weekend?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Romance

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Some mentions of grief.

A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback on Come Home to Me! I hope to keep writing as I feel inspired and have time. This story takes place after the events of Endgame. Tony survived defeating Thanos with the Snap, and Steve brought Natasha back after returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Natasha questioned for the third time that Friday morning as you gathered the last essentials for your 5-year-old daughter to take to the Avengers Compound. You and Nat were taking your first vacation together since your child's birth in celebration of your wedding anniversary. Understandably, your wife was struggling with the idea of leaving your daughter. It was all you could do to convince Natasha to drop her off at preschool, let alone leave her overnight. 

“Love, we’ve talked about this. It’s only for the weekend. Mila is going to have a great time. Besides, there is nowhere safer for her than surrounded by Avengers. You trust them with your life”, you remind her reassuringly as you rub gentle circles on her back.

“Exactly. My life, not my child,” Nat muttered.

It had been five years since you gave birth to your and Natasha’s daughter. Your whole world changed from the moment you both laid eyes on her. Soon after, Nat transitioned into semi-retirement with guidance from Clint. She was still available for consultation and recruit training or if the situation was dire, but you and Mila are her number one priority now.

You heard little feet padding down the hall as your daughter entered your bedroom. Her red curls bounced up and down on her head. “I'm ready, Mommy and Mama!” Mila squealed. 

“Oh, Moya Lyubov, you look so pretty! Did you dress yourself this morning?” Natasha asked, getting down to her level.  

“Yes! I wanted to match Auntie Yelena!” as she showed off her mini black vest that Yelena made her for her last birthday, worn expertly over her pink tutu. 

“Auntie Yelena is going to love it, sweetheart. You’re going to have so much fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” hugging her tight.

After packing your luggage in the car, you drive to the compound. FRIDAY greets you as you exit the main elevator. “Good morning, Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Y/L/N.” The team is awaiting your arrival in the common room.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” you replied as Mila let go of Natasha’s hand and ran ahead of both of you, having been here several times already in her young life.

As you enter the room, you see Wanda and Vision in the kitchen, and the smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air. Peter and Kate are playing video games, Bucky and Sam are playing cards with Clint, and Steve is quietly reading Moby Dick. 

“Little spider!” Yelena called out as she entered the room, and Mila ran into her arms.  

“Auntie Yelena! Do you like my outfit? I got dressed all by myself!” 

“I love it, malayshka. It's so much cooler than Mama’s outfit,” Yelena says as she side-eyes her older sister with a smile. “We are going to have so much fun this weekend.”

“Yeah, about that,” Natasha interrupted. “Mission briefing in five.”

Mission briefing?" you asked, confused. "Love, we're going on vacation, not a stakeout.”

“Yes, but they have the most important mission of all, watching our daughter,” motioning to the group before you.

Your heart warms at how protective your wife was—the Black Widow. She was a woman who would run into a collapsing building or intercept an alien invasion without batting an eye, but the moment she became a mother, everything changed. She vowed to give Mila everything she never had as a child. To break the cycle of uncertainty and pain that the Red Room forced upon her. Truthfully, you were so proud of how far Natasha had come. From growing up believing love was for children to giving nothing but love to both of you. 

Just then, Tony and Bruce entered the living room, arguing over their latest nanotech calculations, with Pepper following closely behind. 

“Hey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, park it,” Natasha declared. 

“Ah, Rushman, wonderful to see you as always,” Tony says, winking at Nat. She rolled her eyes in response as Tony and Bruce hugged you before sitting down, and Pepper picked up your daughter.

“Come on sweetie, do you want to go play with Morgan?” Pepper asked.

��Yay!” Mila cheered as they walk down the hall to Morgan’s room.

“Okay, here are some quick dos and don’ts for this weekend. No guns, no repulsor rays, no arrows, and no using our daughter as a beta test subject for any new experiments. When Thor gets here, no Asgardian beverages in front of our child. Mila’s bedtime is 7 pm, and she likes it if you do the characters' voices when you read her bedtime story. If she has trouble falling asleep, a lullaby usually does the trick. Got it?”

“Geez, this is almost as bad as Budapest,” Clint whispered to Kate.

“It’s going to be alright, Natasha,” Wanda reassured. “We’re a family. You know we would do anything for that little girl. Please, go and enjoy your anniversary. No one deserves some special alone time more than you two”, Wanda says as she hands you a tin of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for the trip. 

You put your arm around Natasha and kiss her cheek. “Wanda is right, my love. Mila will be fine.” 

Just as you complete the sentence, Mila runs back into the room. “Mommy, Mama! Morgan has Puss and Boots: The Last Wish, and we will watch it tonight before bedtime.” 

“That sounds like so much fun, sweetheart! I know you will be a good girl for your aunts and uncles, and Mommy and Mama will see you on Sunday night, okay? We love you so much.” you said. 

“Okay, Mommy. I love you!” She said as she hugged you so tight. Natasha knelt to kiss your daughter on the cheek and squeezed her hand three times. Their unique way of saying I love you. After one last hug and kiss, you walk to the Quinjet. Tony had offered one for easy and convenient travel. 

*^~^*

By the time you arrive at your hotel in Paris, it’s almost dinner time. After sightseeing, you two enjoyed a gourmet candlelit dinner under the Parisian moon and a romantic stroll under the stars. When you returned to your room, you received a text message from Clint with a photo of your daughter asleep on her bed—lovingly cuddled under a blanket with Yelena. 

“See, she’s okay,” you said lovingly as Natasha smiled at the picture of her little girl and her little sister.

As you lay in bed that night, you feel more grateful than ever to be here with the love of your life. Both of you had learned firsthand to never take anything for granted.

You were one of the lost souls left behind after the Blip. Struggling with the loss of your loved ones, you began attending Steve’s Brooklyn Support Group once a week. It was after one of those meetings that you were first introduced to the Black Widow. 

Natasha hesitated at first to let anyone in. She was too scared to lose anyone else and was convinced that nothing should take away from her commitment to bring everyone back. However, she still found any excuse to attend Steve’s meetings. Whether that was to bring homemade peanut butter sandwiches for the snack table or shyly offering to give you a ride home. 

You weren’t a hero or a super soldier. You didn’t remind Natasha of the guilt she carried over the last five years as the fallout from the Blip continued. You were just yourself, which Natasha loved the most about you. You began to visit her at the compound, and slowly but surely, the walls came down for both of you. 

When she told you about the Time Heist, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t comprehend the thought of losing Natasha, but you knew she believed in her heart that she owed it to everyone they had lost to try. When Clint returned from Vormir alone and dropped to his knees, so did you. Grief overtook you all over again.

As the Battle for Earth became inevitable, the team hid you in a safe house off the grid. Days went by and you lost track of time, stuck in your grief and unaware of what was happening. It wasn't until a knock on your door awoke you in the middle of the night that you dropped to your knees again. This time in shock at the sight of Natasha on your doorstep. Tears streaming down her face, she told you they had won. Tony defeated Thanos with the Snap, and Steve performed a miracle by bringing her back upon returning the Soul Stone to Vormir. 

So much life has happened since then. You were married in a beautiful autumnal ceremony shortly after Nat returned and bought your house. Five years ago and twelve hours of labor later, you welcomed your daughter into the world that your wife sacrificed herself to save. You couldn’t believe how much you loved them both. Returning to the present moment, you gently move a strand of Natasha’s unbraided red hair away from her face. Her hands move effortlessly to the nape of your neck, and you lose yourself in her touch.

*^~^*

It’s Saturday morning back at the compound, and Mila is eating blueberry pancakes when Clint strolled in from his morning workout. 

“Hey, squirt! Those pancakes look amazing. Did Auntie Wanda make those?” he asked, reaching for the extra plate of pancakes on the counter. 

Before Mila can respond, the plate glides quickly away from him, enveloped in Wanda’s red magic. “Auntie Wanda did make those, but they’re only for adorable little girls named Mila. Is your name Mila?” Wanda said to Clint with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Clint grumbled.

“Then make your breakfast, Hawkeye,” Wanda sighed, patting him on the back. 

After breakfast, Sam and Bucky take Mila outside to play. Meanwhile, Steve is working on a mission report in his room when FRIDAY interrupts his concentration. “Mr. Rogers, I’m picking up an elevated heat signature from your shield just north of your location.” Steve looked curiously out the window to see Mila giggling as she slid across the grass. She is sitting on his overturned shield, pulled by a rope tied to the back of Red Wing. 

“My shield is not a toy!” Steve yelled out the window. 

“Oh, hey, Cap! It does make a great sled, doesn’t it?” Bucky answered, pretending not to hear what his best friend said, as Sam laughed out loud. 

Steve shakes his head to hide his smile. You meant the world to him, having spent countless hours processing your grief together in that dark and dank recreation room in Brooklyn. He was honored when you and Natasha asked him to be Mila’s godfather. His shield was made from Vibranium, after all. If his goddaughter wanted to play with it, he knew no harm would be done. 

That afternoon, Peter arrived at the compound to work on his newest suit upgrade with Tony. Mila is engrossed in coloring at the kitchen table with Auntie Kate when Peter walks in to get a soda. 

“Hey Mila, what are you up to?”

“Coloring, do you want to help us?” Mila asked happily. 

Peter nodded, and they got lost in her Disney Princess coloring book for the next twenty minutes. After adding pretty sparkles to Elsa’s Frozen dress, Mila noticed Peter’s Spider-Man suit sticking out of his bag. 

“Pretty!” Mila said with wide eyes.

“You like it?” Peter asked.

“Yes, is this how you fly? Mama says you can fly!” Mila exclaimed. 

“Something like that,” Peter chuckled and tousled her hair. 

Down in the lab, Tony had been waiting for Peter to arrive for half an hour. Unusual, as his protege was typically annoyingly punctual. Running out of patience, Tony asks FRIDAY for Peter’s current location.

“Mr. Parker is in the kitchen with Ms. Bishop and the young Ms. Romanoff, sir.” Tony rolls his eyes as he trudged up the stairs.

“Hey Hawkette, have you seen Peter? He was supposed to — “

Tony stops as he sees Peter swinging from the ceiling with Mila on his back. Kate was too busy filming the spectacle on her phone to notice Tony standing there. 

“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila shouted as Peter’s web carried them across the room to the top of the bookcase. 

Tony’s eyes follow the pair around the room. He put on his best poker face, “I won’t tell Romanoff or her better half, but if you break it, you pay for it. That includes the kid.” Tony warned.

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” Peter gives Tony a thumbs up. 

“And for God’s sake, at least put some pillows down on the floor!” Tony hollered as he walked back to his lab. 

*^~^*

You and Natasha took a Saturday evening cruise down the Seine River in the city of love. It was magical. When your phone alerted you to an incoming FaceTime from Carol, you had seen the Musée d’Orsay the Notre Dame Cathedral and had just reached the top of the Eiffel Tower. You swiped, her face appearing on the screen.

“Hey, you two, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be on Earth-616 tomorrow for a meeting with Fury and thought I’d drop in on my favorite couple. Wait, where are you?” 

“Paris, for our anniversary! Our first vacation alone in over five years. Can you believe it?” you said giddily as Natasha put her arms around your waist and lovingly kissed your cheek. 

“Wow, that’s wonderful! Where’s your little mini-me?” Carol asked.

“With the team if you’re going there anyway, could you just make sure that everything is good with Mila?” Natasha inquired. 

“Of course. You know you never have to ask.”

“Thank you, Carol,” you gratefully respond. We’ll be back tomorrow evening, so I’m sure we’ll see you then.” Carol gave you a mock salute before you ended the call and put your phone back in your coat pocket. 

“You look so beautiful, dorogaya. After all this time, I still can't believe you’re mine.” Nat waxed poetically as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around your neck. Natasha could not look more beautiful in the glow of the Eiffel Tower. You decided this is the perfect moment to give her your anniversary gift. You slowly hand her the red velvet box you had snuck into your satchel. Her green eyes went wide at the sight of it.

“Detka! We said no gifts this year. This trip is gift enough,” Nat facetiously scolded.

“I know, but I still wanted to do something special for you,” you said sheepishly. 

Natasha opens the box, revealing a simple, delicate gold heart locket necklace. Upon opening the pendant, she is greeted by a candid photo of all three of you. Clint took one during your last visit with his family in Iowa. Nat was sitting on Clint’s front porch with a smiling Mila on her lap. You are leaning behind her with your arms wrapped lovingly around her neck. It quickly became one of your favorite photos of your small yet precious family. 

“This is so beautiful, Moya Lyubov. Can you put it on me?”

You moved Natasha’s braid away from her neck and clasped the necklace in the back. The heart locket fell directly on top of her own heart. It looked perfect on her. You're not sure who leaned in first, but your lips met in a kiss that made your stomach flutter like it was the first time. You couldn’t be happier than you were at that moment. 

*^~^*

The Sunday morning sun was slowly breaking through the compound windows. Yelena was pouring your daughter a bowl of Cheerios and singing along to the sound of American Pie from her phone when The God of Thunder entered through the Bifrost. Mila jumped and started to hide behind her Auntie Yelena but ran toward him when she realized only her Uncle Thor was materializing before them, leaving his trademark on Pepper’s Persian rug. 

“Must you do that every time? You’re becoming more of a poser than my sister.” Yelena remarked. 

“Of course,” Thor said nonchalantly. “It is the only entrance fit for the God of Thunder.”

He lifted Mila with one arm, “Odin’s Beard! You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you, Mila,” Thor declared

“I know! Did you bring me a present Uncle Thor?” Mila squealed. 

“Yes! Now, let’s see here… Asgardian Ale, Mead, no… ah, here it is!” He handed the little girl a small snow globe set in gold with her name engraved elegantly on the base.

“Wow. Pretty snow globe….” Mila whispered. 

“It is indeed,” Thor said, sitting cross-legged on the carpet before the little girl. “This is a special Asgardian snow globe. Look, see the rainbow bridge inside it?” He pointed. “Most importantly, Lady Mila, if you shake it, I shall be there in a flash. If ever you need me, I will be there.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thor!” Mila said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. I’m going to show it to my Teddy Bear!” Running to her bedroom. 

“You spoil her, you know,” Yelena stated with a smirk, as she began to clean up the kitchen. 

“I know, but she is such a grand example of goodness and joy in such a tiny human. She deserves the world.” Thor declared.

Carol arrived shortly after lunch. After a short meeting with Fury in the conference room regarding upcoming mission targets, she finds your daughter in the compound courtyard. She is wearing her vest to match her favorite auntie as Yelena demonstrates the newest tricks Fanny has learned.

“Roll over! Good girl, Fanny!” Yelena praised the dog. Mila takes a treat out of her vest pockets with her tiny hand and tosses it to the Akita.

“Well done, Mila! Before you go home tonight, I will show you what else you can hide inside those pockets,” winking at her niece. 

“Fruits and veggies, right, Yelena?” Carol deadpanned as Mila ran over and jumped into Captain Marvel’s arms. 

“Auntie Carol! When did you get here?” Your daughter giggled. 

“Just a little bit ago. I talked to your Mommy and Mama last night. They miss you and can’t wait to see you when they get home tonight,” Carol shared before kissing your daughter on the cheek.

*^~^*

As the sun started to sink on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the ancient city of Paris, you found yourself immersed in the rich history of the Louvre museum. You had eagerly anticipated this moment, and after spending the afternoon exploring the countless treasures within the museum's walls, Natasha was determined to ensure you had the chance to lay eyes on the iconic Mona Lisa. As you weaved your way through the bustling crowd of tourists, Natasha's determined presence caused a path to effortlessly clear before you as she kindly asked them to move the fuck over.

You returned to your hotel and enjoyed a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries when Natasha’s phone dinged. 

Carol: Hey, lovebirds. It's all good here. Mila is doing great and excited to see you when you return. However, you may want to check her vest pockets when you get home for some “special” presents courtesy of Auntie Yelena. 😘

Natasha giggled, showing you the text. 

“The important thing is that they’re bonding,” placing a delicate kiss on her temple. 

Following Wanda’s delicious Chicken Paprikash dinner, your daughter watched Frozen II. Vision attempted to explain the science behind snowflakes to her when Tony strolled into the lounge.

“Hey, kiddo, do you want to come to the lab with me and see the new suit modifications that the Jolly Green Giant and I are working on?”

“Yay!” Mila said excitedly, jumping up and down.

“Sir, Ms. Romanoff indicated there was to be no experimenting with young Ms. Mila while she is in our care.”

“Relax, chrome dome. We’re just looking at the new holographic mockup.” Picking up Mila and carried her to his lab. 

*^~^*

After a few hours, Natasha gracefully guided the Quinjet to a smooth landing. As the engines powered down, she took a deep breath and gently reached across the console to grasp your hand. Together, you gazed out at the glittering lights of the team living quarters in the distance.

"Thank you for making our anniversary so wonderful," you said. "I love you so much. I know it was tough for you to leave Mila for three days, but not only did we have a beautiful anniversary, but our daughter got to spend meaningful time with her family, which she will always remember." You pressed a kiss to her knuckles as Natasha caressed your cheek.

You were right, dorogaya. This was perfect. I’m sorry I was so nervous about leaving her. I just never thought I would have my happily ever after. That little girl and you are my everything. It breaks my heart every time I leave either one of you.

“I know, my love,” you said quietly. “Now, let’s go get our daughter and go home.”

As you entered the compound, the air was filled with shouting and the excited barking of Fanny and Lucky. Natasha instinctively reached for her spare Widow Bites, but before she could react, both of you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughter's laughter. Following the noise, you entered the common room to find your daughter joyfully running through the compound. She was wearing her pajamas and had one of Tony’s Iron Man helmets perched on her head while clutching a can of whipped cream. Yelena and the rest of the team were in hot pursuit, with puffs of whipped cream trailing behind her as she raced through the room.

Kate skidded to a stop in front of both of you. “Oh, you guys are back. Awesome! Umm, we made ice cream sundaes for dessert. Mila enjoyed hers, as you can see”, Kate motioned, breathing heavily.

Mila took her last lap around the couch when she caught sight of you and Natasha. 

“Mommy, Mama! You’re here!!” she squealed, running into Natasha’s arms. 

“Hi, Moya Lyubov, we missed you so much!!” Natasha said as she wrapped Mila in a big hug before passing her to you to do the same. 

“It looks like you had fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” removing the helmet and brush a red curl away from her eyes. 

“I had so much fun, Mommy! I got to eat yummy food, ride a sled, fly, and Auntie Yelena helped me hide special treasures in my vest pockets. Oh, and I got a magic snow globe with my name on it!” Your daughter rambled happily. 

Natasha looked at you slightly skeptical, wondering if your sweet little girl was exaggerating. With your family, you were never quite sure. 

“Wow, that sounds amazing, kotyonok!” Are you ready to go home now?” Nat asked as Mila gives you her best puppy dog eyes. 

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll come back and see everyone next weekend. Why don’t you go get your Teddy bear?” you suggested.

“I’ll help her with her things,” Yelena said, scooping up your daughter and walking to her bedroom. 

“We can’t thank all of you enough for taking such good care of her. I know she would stay here forever if we let her.” You said as you move through the group hugging every one. 

She is always welcome here, you two know that.” Wanda said, confident she was speaking for the entire team. 

A short while later, Mila emerged with her unicorn backpack, followed by Yelena, carrying more bags than she had when you dropped her off. You couldn't help but shake your head, knowing the team had showered her with gifts. Natasha crouched down to Mila’s eye level, tenderly placing her hand on her back. “Can you say goodbye and thank you to all of your aunts and uncles, dorogaya?” she asked. Mila made her way around the room, hugging everyone. It warmed Natasha to witness her family showering your daughter with so much love and affection.

Mila drifted off to sleep only five minutes after being placed in her car seat. Upon returning home, Natasha carried her to her bed with the utmost care. She tenderly laid Mila down, ensuring she was tucked in snugly, and then, both of you gently kissed her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. You decided to postpone the unpacking until the following day, feeling too exhausted from the long journey. In the bedroom, Natasha was sitting in bed, engrossed in a book with her reading glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. The day's fatigue faded as you turned off the bathroom light and joined her in bed.

“I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic anniversary, my love,” you admitted as you carefully removed her glasses from her face and gently kissed her lips. “But there is nowhere I would rather be than at home with you and our beautiful daughter.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nat said, returning the kiss. 

As Natasha drifted into slumber, her mind wandered back to the tumultuous path that had brought her to this moment. She couldn't escape the memories of her past—a life of manipulation in the Red Room with no autonomy and the unending pursuit to cleanse her conscience of the bloodstains it bore. But then came the shot that Clint didn't take and the chance that Fury did. Her deeply unconventional yet cherished family culminated in the arrival of you and your precious daughter. In these precious bonds, Natasha Romanoff found the strength to thrive and, at long last, find peace.

[imtryingbuck]

Too Late.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?

Word count: 2,237

Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.

A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.

Part 2

Masterlist

Why he kept doing it was beyond him.

The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.

Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.

They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.

Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.

When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.

Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.

He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.

“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.

“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.

“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”

“Shit”

Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.

Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”

Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.

Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.

“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.

“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.

Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.

But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.

Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.

“S-Steve…”

“What are they?”

“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.

“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.

“It-its positive”

No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.

Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.

“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.

“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”

“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.

Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.

“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”

“W-where am I?”

“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”

“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.

“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”

Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”

“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”

The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.

There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.

“T-t-turn it o-off”

“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”

Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.

“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”

The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.

“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”

The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.

“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“

“Why?”

Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.

“Ah show time”.

“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.

“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.

“Where is she?” He repeated.

“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”

The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.

“Doll-“

“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.

“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.

Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Tony asks.

“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”

Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.

“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”

“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”

“Doll-“

“A year.” 

Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.

“A…year?”

“It was an accident Y/n/n-“

“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”

All shook their heads at her question.

“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”

Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”

“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”

“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.

The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.

Sadly her happiness had gone away.

Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.

Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.

To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.

“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”

“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“

“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.

“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“

“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“

“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”

Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.

Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.

In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha. 

The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.

Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.

He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.

On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.

Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.

She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.

“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[munsster]

through and through

A/N: i am simply a sucker for a gorgeous, dumb blond (gif creds: @captainsamerica)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: The most stubborn man in the world has no one to blame for that gunshot but himself. And all over again, you'll clean him up. 1.5k words

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, angry but soft reader, dumb stevie, slight wound description, its okay: everybody lives, cursing, pet names (honey, baby, darlin), friends to lovers

"God, Steve, do you know how frustrating it is when you do this?" You're ruffled: wide-eyed and feverish. Upset might better describe your situation. Peeved, maybe. Because you're used to his recklessness. Always have been. Even when it was only news articles and rumored hospitalization.

Arm hooked around his waist, he slumps his weight against you while you struggle up the ramp of the jet. Labored breathing fans the nape of your neck, and you can feel his tension loosening with the grip of his consciousness. As he plops down into a hard metal seat, he deflates. Especially with you beside him, he's happy the scolding of his life is at hand.

And all he can do is laugh. Of course he's gonna be okay; he's pumped full of the purest steroids long-dead alchemists could come up with. Which is why he's not worried. So far from worried, in fact, that he's grinning. You're fingering antiseptic against the fresh gunshot wound in his abdomen, and he's sitting pleased.

"You couldn't have been a little more careful?” You grumble something about how stupid he is. That he's doing it on purpose to mess with you. Leave it to Steve to get shot just to piss you off. "Try to risk your life a little less, 'kay? God, it's so frustrating.”

He chuckles, hissing at the brief pain and slumping down in his seat. "You said that already."

"I'm not afraid to hit a dying man—"

"Hush, I'm not dying." He coughs up a wet gargle, and the panic sets in. You press a square of gauze against the shallow divot with the heel of your palm. Lazily, his head lulls to the side, and he can't stop himself from smiling at the crease between your brows.

"That's exactly what you'd say if—"

"—If I was dying, yadda yadda. Have I ever lied to you, darlin'?"

His palm cups yours on his hot skin. Each breath presses taut muscle into the gentle curve of your fingers. Your face screws inward, but he puts a little pressure on your knuckles, trapping them in place on his stomach.

"How'm I supposed to know?"

His tongue clicks behind a smirk, and he blinks his eyes shut. It's because he's exhausted, you know that. You should let him rest, but after losing all that blood, you also figure it's better if he stays conscious until you're sure he'll make it. There's no reason for this time to be different. But then again, there never really is.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't do that. Keep 'em open, please."

"Aw, come on, honey—fine"—his vibrant blue eyes startle you as he goes back to staring—"As I was saying—I'm not planning on dying anytime soon. If I was, I'd tell you so you could smack the deathwish outta me."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to trust you, huh?"

"Yes, please." He's horrible. The blood he's got left all goes to his head to fuel a stupid grin and the biggest, dumbest puppy dog eyes. No thoughts behind them, just pure nonsense and foggy desire.

"You're the worst," you huff. It kinda stings when you don't chase it with a laugh or a smile. He hates that he's forcing you to be professional. Because unprofessional, unapologetic you is his favorite. A real sweetheart, and he's the one responsible for driving that away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. More sincere than he's been in his life. Well, this life. It's not often that he gets to open up. He's been Captain for years now. And finally someone calls him Stevie again, and he's screwing it up with his stubbornness. He wishes he could be candid. Taken with life. Unabashed life, all at the tips of his fingers. Yet grabbing on never felt so far away.

He flutters when you scowl up at him, relieved that he gets to be acknowledged by you once more. Excited, suddenly, by the hand on his new scar. Wonderfully exposed by the top of his suit folded at the waist in his lap. And you have to admit, he's handsome. Golden hair flopped into his face, bloodied up by his or someone else's, but still so charming between rattling exhales.

You sigh. "I hate it when you're headstrong."

He perks up from behind the guise of creeping pain. You pay no mind, zipping the first-aid kit up and shoving it back into your duffel.

"Can't you let someone else take the high road? You know it's okay to be the bench guy for one game. Maybe save your life." You shrug, and the guilt washes away from the surface of his skull. He's thrilled again to be here for your bloom as the jet lifts and your ears pop.

"But that's what I have you for."

He hates it because it implies that's all. But that's far from all. You are all. He doesn't know it gives you butterflies because it implies that he has you. And he does. He will.

"As much as I love being your personal nurse, don't you think I deserve a break?" You pout and settle in beside him. He thinks the closeness could make his slow heart start up again. Even with near half his blood left, he'd circulate triple as long as you stay this close.

"C'mon, honey, you know I like when you work for it."

You don't have a second to process before he shifts closer and leans his head back against the tough wall. Your neck goes all hot because he drops his hand in the small space between his thigh and yours. The length of his thumb curiously swipes the skin of your catsuit, and you stiffen.

His breath catches in the dark. Your fingers fit slowly in the spaces of his own, a subconscious squeeze soothing the warm strain built up in all the little slips and slides. And it's okay now. Close like this is good for his ache. He doesn't have to be straight-posture, strict leader in your arms, even if he hasn't been there for very long. He would still like to fold into your warmth like perfect cake batter. Vanilla and streaks of funfetti if you'll keep him in place for a while longer.

"I told you to keep your eyes open, Stevie."

So they snap open. To find you're watching him. It wrecks him wholly to know you've noticed him before. It's so stupid, but he obsesses over the times you're not subtle about it. Like now: wetting the corner of your mouth with the tip of your tongue, pressing the pad of your thumb to his forefinger's knuckle.

"And I told you I'd be okay, darlin'." He feels himself softening. Hot peaches laid delicately into the shell of a tart to bake until golden brown. You could slice through him and take a bite. It would all reassure him knowing you enjoyed the bittersweetness and buttery smooth sinking of your teeth into his flesh.

"Stevie," you coo, lips parted. The gravity of you makes him want to slink closer like a stray cat to warm milk. To dip his tongue in and savor the newness. Cool and better than ever. You could—you do fuel his strength. Every centimeter poured from your cupped palms into—finally—Man. At last. Gold and glimmering. Exposed to weathering but picturesque evermore.

But he looks dazed. Glossed over. On the verge of emotion. And distress bubbles in your lungs.

"D'you need to rest—"

He shakes his head. "Stop thinking about me for five seconds, honey. I think kissing my girl is rest enough," he huffs, "Don't you agree?"

You squint. Smartass. "Actually, old man, it might be better if—"

In a breath, he holds the pretty swell of your chin in his shaking fingers. Mouth close enough to feel the dryness and the softness beneath it all. You gasp, going all pliant at his will. Like angels, too nervous to be impure, he's holding you in place like a statue. Keeping you on edge.

Until you grab his face and kiss him nice and slow. Enough to heal his plight. A new gunshot wound in the form of a pretty lady tearing through his well-grooved chest. Leave all the shrapnel if you'd like. With your mouth in the small of his own, he feels like a dizzy hangover in the middle of a house party. His hands grasp greedily at your waist, turning you and shifting you and pulling. Bringing. Begging.

And, like a minx, like always, like you, you push away with a laugh and wipe his spit from your mouth.

"Been waiting on that for... ever. Feelin' sealed up already, baby," he grumbles.

"Sweet on me now, Stevie?"

He shakes his head with a chuckle.

"Always have been."

marvel masterlist

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your husband tells you about his rough day at work.

prompts. | Steve Rogers + Mob/Mafia + “I just want to take care of you.” + Stockholm Syndrome, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!mob boss!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, wound dressing, housewife kink, mentions of violence, lying, deceit, mobs/mafias, age gap/difference, mentions of torture (not to the reader), scarring/marking (not self-harm), possessiveness, obsession, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

He’s beaten and bloody, but you still love him… Right?

You sit on the dining room chair in your dress with an apron on, smiling as hard as you can because Steve asked you to. He hates seeing you upset, and you hate seeing him mad. 

“Sweetheart…” Steve starts, watching your face intently. You clean his wounds with much care and love, just as he taught you. He sighs, knowing you’re too caught up in the task at hand. “Don’t be sad… You know it’s part of the job.”

“I just hate seeing you like this,” you tell him, voice shaky with tears. Your husband coming home all injured doesn’t happen often. The notoriously-feared Steve Rogers usually ends the day unscathed unless he’s been ambushed, which is what happened today.

But he still ended the fight victorious. He always does.

“I get that, but you know I do all this for you, right?” Steve asks, and you look up at him. Your eyes are glassy. You nod your head obediently. Steve works so hard just for you—he tells you this daily, especially when he’s exhausted, and just wants you to listen to him. “I– I know…”

You finish wiping the blood off his hands, and you spy a few bruises already starting to form. They litter his knuckles, but his wedding band remains intact.

“Right. And you know I don’t get hurt often,” Steve continues, picking up his glass of whiskey. He downs the rest and hisses from the burn. “You should see the other guy,” he tells you, and you continue nodding.

You’re not sure what to say. You don’t enjoy Steve’s line of work—you never have. You’ve made him aware of this time and time again, but you don’t have a say in what he does. You never do.

“Sam an’ I got him good. I did most of it—left him to rot in that room for Buck to have his fun. Remember those knives I got him as a gift?” Steve asks. You hum, moving forward to tend to the gash on his jaw. He has as many scars as he does tattoos. Your name is inscribed in ink on his chest, but his initials were written with a blade on your ass. 

The mention of knives almost has you sighing dreamily. You lost your ‘knife privileges’ a few months ago when you tried to hurt Steve. The idea seems so silly now. Why would you ever do that to the love of your life?

“Wanna know what that asshole did?” your husband whispers, and you meet his gaze. “O– Okay,” you hesitantly agree. You hate all the nitty-gritty details, but you can’t tell him ‘no.’ That’s the number one rule. 

“He said he knew you. Just a kid about your age, really. Think his name was Pete,” Steve starts, and you freeze for a split second. 

Peter—your old friend who vowed he’d get rid of the mob that wreaked havoc on your city when he was older. Steve’s mob. He hated that his aunt May would always have to give them most of her paycheck and how your parents lost their business when Steve decided to open his own store. 

“Said he knew you, but I doubt it. You would never be friends with some spunky asshole,” he laughs, and you’re snapped out of the childhood memories that have always brought you so much comfort and sadness. You’re tempted to defend Peter, but you bite your tongue. You’ve been so good—why would you want to get yourself in trouble?

“He told me to ‘let you go,’ or else he’d ‘make me pay,’” Steve laughs, pouring himself more of his drink. “I told him he was crazy. He kept sayin’ how I was hurting you and that I kidnapped you.” And he’s right—but you can’t say that. 

Tears sting your eyes as you bandage your husband up, the one you’ve never wanted a thing to do with. But he’s been so kind to you—he keeps you safe and doesn’t let you worry about anything except for him. 

“Yeah, right. I shut him up real quick, but he put up a good fight,” Steve says, sipping on his expensive whiskey. He places his glass on the dining room table and lifts your chin so you watch him in his blue eyes. “You know I just want to take care of you, right, sweetheart? Always have.”

You give him your sweetest smile and nod, blinking away your threatening waterworks. He’s right. Steve Rogers always is.

“Of course, honey.” 

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”

Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.

Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.

“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.

Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.

Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.

“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.

“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.

His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Here In Your Arms

Carol Danvers x fem!reader

Word count: 596

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, praise kink, post session aftercare, emotional intimacy

Authors notes: Decided to dedicate praise kink to an entire aftercare session of it~

After an intense session, the air is still thick with the remnants of passion, and you're lying in Carol's arms, bodies entwined. Her hand lazily strokes your hair, fingers trailing lightly along your scalp as you rest against her chest, your heartbeat gradually slowing to match hers. Carol's strong but gentle presence envelops you, and a soft, satisfied sigh escapes her lips.

"You were so good for me," Carol murmurs, her voice low and full of affection. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Always so perfect, so responsive... I love seeing how much you trust me."

You blush at her words, hiding your face in the crook of her neck, but Carol tilts your chin up gently, making you meet her gaze. There's nothing but admiration in her eyes as she smiles down at you.

"You make me so proud," she continues, her thumb brushing across your cheek. "Everything about you is amazing—how you listen, how you feel. You were everything I needed and more tonight."

Your heart swells at her praise, and you feel a warm, pleasant glow spreading through your chest. Carol's words always had a way of making you feel cherished, but in moments like these, they meant everything.

Carol leans down, her lips brushing softly against your forehead in a tender kiss, her fingers still grazing along your jawline. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers against your skin, her voice warm and soothing. “I don’t think you even realize how incredible you are.”

You tilt your head back slightly, meeting her gaze, your heart pounding again, but this time from the deep affection you feel for her. She’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, like there’s nothing else she'd rather do than be here with you.

“I love the way you trust me,” she adds, her tone growing even softer as her thumb lightly strokes your bottom lip. “It means everything to me. And when you let go like that? It’s like you’re giving me a part of yourself, and I just… I can’t get enough of it.”

Her words sink deep into you, and you feel your chest tighten with emotion. Carol’s praise always left you feeling weightless, like she saw every part of you—the good, the vulnerable, the raw—and loved all of it.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you mumble, a bit shy under her adoring gaze. “You always know exactly what to say.”

Carol smiles, that gentle but mischievous grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “That’s because I mean every word. You’re perfect for me, in every way.” She presses her lips softly to yours, the kiss tender and lingering, leaving you feeling cherished.

When she pulls back, she tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, her expression serious but filled with warmth. “I’ll always take care of you, okay? You’re mine, and I’ll never stop reminding you how special you are.”

The intensity of her words sends a rush of warmth through your entire body, making you feel safe, protected, and adored. You nestle back into her embrace, a contented sigh escaping your lips as you close your eyes, the sound of her heartbeat steady and soothing beneath your ear.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you whisper, feeling your body relax completely in her arms.

Carol tightens her hold on you, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “No, baby,” she murmurs softly, her voice full of love, “I’m the lucky one.”

[anonymityisfunwriter]

To Know Him Is To Love Him

summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.

Anon's 1K Celebration

to know him is to love him.

to know him is to stand by him.

to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.

to know him is to hope that one day he'll finally see.

to know him is to be broken by him.

you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.

three months ago...

you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.

you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.

"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."

"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.

"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."

your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"

"you know what i meant. you're my friend."

you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.

"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."

two months ago...

"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."

"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."

"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"

"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.

"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.

steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.

sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."

you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."

"soulmate?" sam teases.

you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.

how blind can he be?

one month ago...

"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."

it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."

"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"

you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."

"please, i need you."

putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.

his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.

you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.

you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.

to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.

he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.

you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.

you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."

"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."

his best girl.

he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.

"i missed you so much."

you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."

"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."

you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."

an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"

you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."

"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."

"i understand."

2 weeks ago...

you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.

each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.

you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.

in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.

time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.

you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.

still, he sought you out.

you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.

you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.

at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.

your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.

"steve?"

"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."

"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"

"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."

you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."

"thank you," he sighs in relief.

"what happened?"

"the worst date of my life."

you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.

and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"

"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."

you suck in a breath, "steve..."

these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.

suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.

and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.

you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.

"steve.." you sigh against his lips.

and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."

you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"

"i should go."

and he leaves without another word.

your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.

1 week ago...

he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.

to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.

he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.

"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.

you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.

you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."

you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.

now...

you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.

the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.

"steve," you try to interrupt.

"and all i want -"

"steve."

"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"

"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."

his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"

"you know why," you spit at him.

"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."

"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."

"i don't understand."

"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."

"they why do you answer the phone?"

"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."

"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"

"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."

"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.

a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."

"before? before what?"

each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."

"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."

"and then you kissed me!"

he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."

"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."

"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."

your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."

steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."

"why did you call me the other night?"

"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."

"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."

he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."

you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"

"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."

"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."

"i do love you."

you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."

"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."

"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."

he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."

"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."

steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."

you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."

"please," steve begs.

"goodbye, steve."

you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.

a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.

to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @buckybarnessimpp @withyoutilltheendoftheline

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Forgetting

Carol Danvers x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, long distance, fluffy times, explicit language, implied sex (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: It's been nearly a year since you've seen your girlfriend and almost two months since you've heard from her. And you're beginning to worry that she's forgotten about you. After all, the universe is a big place.

357 days. That’s how long it had been since you’d seen your girlfriend. You tried to think of yourself like a military spouse. After all, Carol did used to be in the Air Force. And she did travel to far-away, dangerous places to protect people, with very limited communication for long periods of time. It’s just that her dangerous locations were in other galaxies instead of other countries.

You were used to her being gone or, well, as used to it as you could be. The longer her absence went on, the more used to it you got, but somehow it also became harder. When she first set off on this mission, she’d been in your galaxy, so communications had come faster and with more regularity. Less space and time for them to travel through. But the farther away she got, the longer it took her messages to get to you. You were lucky if you got one email a month.

It wasn’t personal. You knew that. She was far away. Even with the best technology S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide to a civilian, her communication with you was still slow and limited. But, god, you missed her. You missed her laugh. You missed the warmth of her next to you in bed. You missed the way she propped her leg up when she sat down, no matter what kind of chair it was. You hung on every word of her emails, going over them so often you’d memorized them.

It had been two months since Carol’s last email. It was a long time to go without communication, even for her. The irrational part of your brain was desperately worried for her. There’s no telling what kind of high-risk situations she got herself into out there. But you knew that if anyone could handle themselves against all the forces of evil in the universe, it was Carol. You also knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. would have contacted you immediately had anything happened to her.

Another part of your brain–equally irrational but much harder to talk down–worried that Carol had forgotten you. The universe that Carol traversed was huge. Infinite, even. She saw things no one else had ever seen. Met people and experienced cultures that were so different from ours on Earth that we’d never even dream them up. Who’s to say she hadn’t found somewhere–someone–more beautiful than here, with you? She saw entire worlds, the neverending canvas of space and time. How could it possibly be that, of all the things in the known universe, you were the one worth coming home to? You always worried that maybe, this time, you weren’t.

As you climbed into bed, missing, as always, the feeling of Carol’s arms wrapped around you, the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, you once again pulled up her most recent email. From 61 days ago.

Hi, baby. I hope all’s well on Earth. I’m sad I’m missing spring–you know it’s my favorite season. Are there apricots on the tree yet? Or just buds? I’d give an arm for an apricot right now. I’m farther out than normal, so you might not hear from me for a while. One of the Andromedas. 2.7 lightyears away, if you can believe it. It scares me a little to be so far away from you.

I know I’ve said it before, but it gets lonely out here. Sometimes I wish you could come with me, but I know your body wouldn’t handle space-time travel like mine does. Superhero probs. Also, it’s probably not fair for me to make you put your entire life on pause just because I miss you like crazy.

It’s so beautiful out here in a weird, quiet way. I wish you could see it. Yesterday, I passed a pulsar. A star carcass, as I like to call them. They’re these gigantic masses of spinning light that put out radio signals (which might interfere with how quickly you get this, fuck pulsars). You’ve never seen something so big. So big it’s almost hard to believe it’s really there.

Anyway. I’m rambling. I miss you so much. I always miss you, but this time feels harder for some reason. I miss the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. I miss the way your hair sticks up in the morning. I miss kissing you. I miss doing more than kissing you. I just miss you.

I’m not sure when I’ll get home, but I think about you every day, every second. Nothing in this galaxy or the next or the next compares to you. Please stay safe. Don’t be sad. Snuggle Goose for me.

I love you.

Carol

You fell asleep reading through the email, again and again, your phone going dark in your hand beside you as you drifted off. You dreamed of pulsars. You dreamed of Carol.

Hours later, you jerked awake, gasping, as you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” a voice said, calming, reassuring. “It’s just me.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. “Carol!” you squealed, grabbing her and pulling her onto the bed with you, holding her as tight as possible so she could never, ever leave you for so long again. “You’re home!”

You felt her smile against you as she buried her face in your neck, wrapping her strong arms around you. She smelled metallic, almost like gunpowder; you knew it by now–the smell of space. “Hi, baby,” she whispered, breathing you in. “I missed you so much.”

Still holding you close, Carol sat up a bit to just look at you, just take you in. She ran her hand along your cheekbone and pressed a warm kiss to your mouth. A kiss you’d been so desperate for, you thought you might die from relief. Her lips tasted like space, too, the way metal smells after rain. So uniquely her. How many other people could say they knew the taste of space?

“Are you crying?!” Carol asked, alarmed, as she brushed a few tears from under your eyelids.

You sniffed and mumbled, “I thought maybe you forgot about me.”

Carol pulled you to her chest, running her fingers through your hair, lightly grazing her fingernails against your scalp. You shivered at the sensation.

“Oh, baby,” she breathed. “I could never forget about you.”

“But there’s so much out there.”

“Mmhm,” she said, kissing your nose. “And none of it’s as beautiful as you.”

When she moved to stand up, you grasped her hands. “No, no! Stay here and snuggle!”

She laughed, grinning from ear to ear, as she pushed your hair back from your face. “I have to shower, Y/N. I smell like an asteroid.”

You leapt out of bed to stand next to her, looping your arm and hand through hers and leaning against her shoulder. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough. You never wanted to let her go.

“Can I join you?” you asked, blushing a little. After all, it had been nearly a year.

Carol looked at you lovingly, smiling softly, a few of her own tears building. She squeezed your hand and dragged you after her into the bathroom. “God, yes.”

[vanillanaps]

Still Get Jealous | Steve Rogers

Request - Hello, I think you are a master writer and I have a drabble of blurb request only if you’re up for it though. Could you write a jealously trope for steve using the song red high heels? :> If it doesn’t inspire anything, that is okay. Thank you!

A/n - I must’ve forgotten how to write drabbles/blurb cause babyyy I got carried again lmaoo. But, unfortunately anon I didn’t find inspiration with the song you requested I still wanted give you jealousy and red high heels, hope it still fulfills you!!

Category - Steve Rogers x Reader, Angst

Warnings - Steve is a jealous asshole with a reckless mouth, reader drinks to ignore the pain

Word Count - 1.3k

♡♡♡♡

It had been approximately two weeks since Steven Grant Rogers left you alone in your apartment after he had broken up with you. In just a little over a month, it would’ve been your year anniversary with Steve. You were both happy and getting ready to take things to the next level, so it was beyond shocking when he sat you down to explain that he ‘just couldn’t do it anymore’ but you were smart enough to spot the bullshit.

Regardless, you cried. You were falling in love, hard and fast just for him to up and leave you out of the blue. But, as the second week of sulking had taken its time slowly ending, something in you snapped. You realized that you shouldn’t be home, crying and depressed about a man who clearly couldn’t give a rats ass about you.

Wiping your tears, you sat up as you searched for your phone in your tangled sheets and blanket. Once you found it, you quickly dialed the number of your favorite girl who could easily take you out of your slump, “Wanda?”

“Hey, Y/n. I’m so glad you called, you haven’t been responding to my text, I was worried.” She had answered the phone with concern in her voice.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just,” You paused, sighing as you threw your covers off of yourself, jumping out of bed, “I’m just sick of crying over Steve you know? I want to go out, I want to have fun, I want to get back to who I was before him—and I wanna do it tonight.”

“Tonight? Y/n, are you sure you’re ready?” Wanda questioned. She was fully supportive of getting you out of the house, but she just wanted you to be sure.

“Yes, tonight. Be ready in an hour.” You told her, hanging up before she could respond, knowing she would try to mother you. Get your real feelings out as to why you were so suddenly ready to go out. But that’s not what you wanted. Even if it was for one night, you just wanted Steve off your mind.

♡♡♡♡

The music blasted loudly in the speakers surrounding the club, the atmosphere through the roof. As you took it all in, you could slowly feel the man slipping from your mind, “Let’s get a drink!” You shouted to Wanda. The two of you held hands as you shuffled to the bar, careful not to lose each other in the club, “Tequila shots please!”

“How many?”

“Just keep them coming!” You shouted to the bartender. He nodded, pouring up the shots and passing them over onto the counter.

“Are you sure, Y/n?!” Wanda asked, picking up her shot as you grabbed yours.

You nodded, “I just need one night not thinking about that—idiot!”

She nodded before holding up her glass to cheer with you, “To forgetting about that idiot!” You both laughed before clicking your glasses and taking the shots.

As promised, the bartender kept the shots coming after each time you both finished one. You felt there was no better way than drowning your sorrows than letting the liquor run through your body, mellowing you out and then letting you forget about the world surrounding you.

But no alcohol in the world could help him forget. Not as he stood in the back corner of the club, watching as you and Wanda take shots back to back. At first, it didn’t bother him. You were out with your friend, having a good time. His ears didn’t turn red from anger until he saw what you were wearing. You had his favorite number on.

A black, skimpy, body con dress that squeezes you in all the right ways, showing off your attributes that he loved. Barely covering your ass so if you were to bend over, the entire club could see all of you. You had your hair in his favorite style and not to mention that red gloss that was painted across those lips that felt like heaven to him. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Steve made his way closer to you, not close enough to be seen but close enough for his eyes to trail those legs that used to be wrapped around him 24/7. Catching those red, sexy, strappy, five inch stilettos that he bought you. The ones he use to fuck you endlessly in. How could he be such a fucking idiot.

“Wanda, I wanna danceeee!” You slurred, all of those shots starting to take control of your mind and body. You felt good, you felt great.

“Come on!” Taking her last shot, she grabbed your hands quickly pulling you to the dance floor.

You weren’t sure when it happened or how it happened, but at one moment, you were dancing with your best friend, having the time of your life. The next, your ass was pushed up against some man’s crotch as you grinded on him. His hands trailing to any part of your body he could reach. You didn’t mind though, you deserved this. You especially didn’t mind when he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder and neck. For the moment, you were enjoying it and then—you weren’t.

“The fucks your problem dude?!” The random man yelled when you were snatched from his hold.

Your body ran cold when you pulled yourself together, just long enough to see who ruined your dance, “Steve?! What are you doing?!” He ignored you as he grabbed your hand and dragged you through the club and to the exit, “Stop it! Let me go!” He didn’t stop until he got you outside of the club, “What’s your issue?!”

“Two weeks huh? That’s all it took for you to be in the club? Dressed like a hooker and dancing like a slut?” Steve shouted. Immediately he regretted it when he saw the look on your face, but there was nothing he could do to take it back now.

You scoffed, shaking your head, “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that Steve? You broke up with ME for no reason! I cried for two weeks straight because of you! But now, since I’m in the club, with a hooker outfit that YOU bought me, by the way, I’m a slut?!”

Steve's blood was running hot and he was running of anger and jealousy, “You’re drunk, Y/n.”

“I’m not drunk!” You shouted, right before stumbling over your feet, “I’m not that drunk! I’m sober enough to realize that I was doing and to tell you to leave me the fuck alone! I’m not going to spend the rest of my life crying over you when you don't want me! And that stunt you just pulled? Let alone calling me a hooker and a slut all in the same breath? I’m glad we broke up!” You felt it, you felt the tears starting to bubble underneath your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall, “Just leave me alone! I just want to be the person I was before you ruined me, you asshole!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He called out as you started to back away from him, “I broke up with you because I was scared! Everything between us was moving fast and—and I didn’t know what to do so I left!”

“I don’t care, Steve! I don’t care! It’s too late!” You shook your head, not wanting to hear any more excuses. Not wanting him to ruin your night anymore than he already had, “Go find someone else to be scared to fall in love with.”

Just then, Wanda came running out of the club, relieved to see you standing there, “Oh my god, I’ve been looking for you! I was worried.” She breathed, but halted in her tracks when she saw Steve a couple feet away, “Steve? What are you doing here?”

“Leaving, he’s leaving.” You responded for him, turning your back to him and facing Wanda, “Let’s go back inside, I need another drink.”

She nodded, wrapping her arm with yours as the two of you headed back inside without so much as a glance back at the man who realized he truly lost everything.

[tldrthor]

Part II: The Princess (and the chaos she brings with her) - steve rogers x princess!reader

summary: the princess gets to grips with life in the avengers tower, the captain does his best to not allow his feelings to get in the way of acting normal. everything is nice... but for how long?

part 2 // it was an honour and a privilege, for his words to reach only her ear // word count 2k

you can find part one here and here's my masterlist <3

a/n: nothing much happens in this one but i needed to set the scene! hope you enjoy this short and fluffy fic x

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Steve felt a kind of giddiness he had never felt before. It was almost nauseating; somewhere between the greatest euphoria and the deepest of depressions. He felt himself unable to bring words to his lips, when Bucky knocked on his room door to ask him how he was holding up.

“This is fucking crazy, man.” Bucky had breathed out. It seemed the same cat had got his tongue.

Steve had breathed out a half-laugh. “Yeah, it’s definitely crazy.”

He felt delirious. Dizzy with every emotion he had ever, and will ever feel. He found himself staring at the clock as time ticked by, agonisingly slowly. He fought against every instinct he had to run to her, make sure she never left his sight again.

It had been nearly 80 years since they had last seen each other. What if she had moved on? What if he was too different for her now? What if she was different?

As they had talked, it felt the same. But the talk they had had wasn't quite enough for the captain. He fought against every instinct he had to charge into her room and demand answers to the thousand questions running through his head.

His best bet would be going for a run, clear his head, work off some energy. It was a nice day outside, and a weekend so most of the agents and personnel were off-base. He shrugged on some gym clothes and headed out. He found himself lingering, as he walked past her door, trying to fend off thoughts of charging in and blurting his deepest thoughts to her.

The sound of... struggling? He could hear her, with ragged breath and the sound of what he thought was someone bumping into furniture. His eyebrows furrowed as he went into avenger mode.

"Princess?" He knocked quickly on the door, listening as he did for further sounds. As he knocked, the noises stopped. It was only through his supersoldier hearing that he could still hear her ragged breaths.

A small, breathless voice came from behind the door. "I'm okay, I'm alright!"

The captain wasn't entirely sure what to do. "Do you need help with anything?"

There was silence for a moment. And then, the lock on the door turned and she stood, once more, in front of him. Now, she was more flushed, and her hair had fallen ever so slightly out of place. The captain still thought she was the most radiant being he had ever seen.

"I... I am sorry to ask, captain. I am so used to having handmaidens that I can't get my armour off by myself." She looked away as she said it, and Steve cursed himself as a blush spread it's way over his cheeks.

"I'll help!" He said, perhaps a little too much enthusiasm behind his words. He immediately pulled it back, "or I could get Natasha, if you want."

The princess smiled at him. "It's okay, I wouldn't want to bother Miss Romanoff, if you don't mind helping?" She held the door for him and he entered her chambers. If she had been on Alfheim, or Asgard for that matter, this would have caused great scandal. For a brief moment, regardless of the circumstances, she was grateful to be back on Midgard.

She lifted her arms to show him how the chestplate connected around her torso, and he began to undo the intricate mechanism stitching it together. They were both hyper-aware of their closeness in that moment, each fighting not to think about it too much.

"It's beautiful." Steve tried to cut the silence, but his voice came out as more of a whisper. "Your armour, I mean. The carvings." He cleared his throat.

She made eye contact with him, and he nearly audibly gulped. "Thank you." As the mechanisms finally gave way, she pulled the piece over her head, holding it in front of her. "It belonged to my grandmother, the last Queen of Alfheim. They say even the stars themselves bowed to her."

Steve didn't miss the sadness layered in her voice.

"I never knew anything about your family before. It's crazy that they're kings and queens." Steve confessed.

She placed a hand, lightly on his arm. She couldn't think of what to say in response to that, but the gesture was enough. She hung the armour in the wardrobe, then began to take off her jewelry starting with her jeweled tiara. As she pulled it from her hair, he audibly gasped.

With the way her tresses fell, and covered her ears, it was like the princess disappeared and was replaced with (y/n). His (y/n). The one he ejected from the plane to save, all those years ago. The one he had mourned since he came out of the ice.

She turned to him, smiling. "You look the same, you know." She continued, "As when we last saw each other."

Steve caught a glimpse of himself in her mirror. He didn't feel the same as back then. He had been so full of hope, so naïve. The modern world made it hard to be optimistic.

"I'm older, now. You haven't aged a day." He responded.

She chuckled. "Steven, you are the same boy who jumped on the grenade at Camp Lehigh, it doesn't matter how you've aged." The kindness of her words as she said his name moved him in a way that no one had in a long time. "My people age far slower than Midgardians, so physically aging is an honour. I hope that one day, I experience the blessings of the years."

"What... what age are you?"

"Are you quite certain you want to know?" She asked, a hint of a smirk on her lips. When he nodded after a moment's hesitation, she continued; "I am 578 years old."

His jaw nearly hit the floor in shock. He looked at her features intently, his mind clawing desperately for anything to say. She didn't look a day over 25, and hadn't since the 40's.

"That's... um, pretty old." He stuttered out. Well, that was not what he had meant to say.

Her melodic laugh reached his ears and he had to admit, he breathed out a sigh of relief. "Captain, that is not a very becoming thing to say to a lady," She giggled. "I am barely a quarter of the way through my life span."

"God, sorry I didn't mean it like that, just... It's all so strange."

"I know, Captain. It is a long time in comparisons to a Midgardians life. I hope that it does not disturb you too much."

In the silence of the room, Steve suddenly became aware of the distance between them, or rather, the lack thereof. She was so close he could almost feel her breath on her face, as her eyelashes fluttered, looking up at him.

Her irresistible eyes.

He could reach out and grab her, right now. It would be easy, romantic, passionate, wonderful. He wanted to do it, badly. To feel his hands on her waist, to wrap her in his arms. He wondered, briefly, if she would tangle her hands in his hair.

In the real world, he couldn't do it. They had been apart for nearly a century, and even when they knew each other, they hadn't gotten that far. He didn't know if she still... felt that way.

His head was spinning, everything seemed to be moving too quickly and too slowly at the same time. Mayday, mayday, mayday.

He cleared his throat and moved away. Well, it was more of a jump. So much for looking normal, he thought to himself.

"We should go for dinner, uh... people will be waiting." He examined her features. She smiled politely, but her eyes betrayed something else. Was that... disappointment he detected? He was probably wishful thinking.

"Of course, Captain. I will get changed into the clothes Natasha brought for me, and then we shall go." She elegantly picked up some clothes, and wandered to the bathroom.

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Dinner was lively as ever. At Thor's request, everyone had joined the team in the dining room for some pizza. Steve and the Princess wandered in later than everybody else, but were welcomed with cheers and laughter. It was nice.

"Princess (y/n)!" Thor boomed, motioning his friends over to two empty seats beside him. "I believe you have met everyone bar the young master Parker, over here." He pointed towards a young brunet boy, sitting rather awkwardly at the corner of the large table.

He waved, whispering a barely audible "Hi."

"Hello, Master Parker. I am (y/n) of Alfheim."

"Yeah, I heard, um. It's Peter, not Master Parker. My name I mean. If you want to- if it's your tradition or whatever you can call me that too I just... um, most of the uh avengers call me Peter, I mean." He placed a hand over his face in what even the princess understood was teen angst.

"Peter, then." She smiled politely at the young, flailing boy.

"I call him bugboy, if that's any more appeasing to you." A familiar voice parted through the din of the many, many conversations being had around the table. The princess looked to see Bucky sitting across from them, next to the man called Sam.

She laughed politely, at his joke, understanding immediately that the young avenger certainly experienced a lot of jokes at his expense.

Her attention was diverted, once again, by Mr. Stark. "Have you ever had the Midgardian delicacy of pizza, your highness?" There was a hint of sarcasm to his deference, that was not unnoticed by (y/n).

"Tony, she lived in Brooklyn in the 40s. Of course she's had pizza." Steve spoke up for her, also noticing the way Tony laced disquiet with her titles. He was being overprotective over pizza, and even though he was aware of the fact, he couldn't stop himself.

"Actually, Captain, I never got around to trying it during my time here."

A silence befell the dining room.

"What?" The harsh words came from Bucky, but it was a sentiment echoed quickly by Cap, and then young Peter.

"How could you have lived in New York for several years, and not had pizza?" Steve laughed at the Princess, who sheepishly smiled.

"I honestly did not realise it was a food, and I lived mostly on army rations anyway..." She explained.

"Oh my god, she's never lived." Sam spoke, dead-pan.

Tony finally interrupted the cacophony. "Well then, ma'am, consider this evening an education."

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The evening was lovely. The conversation (and wine) flowed, never a dull moment. Thor and the Princess dazzled with tales of their worlds and the many battles they had faced. Steve and Bucky reminisced with the Princess about the times they had shared together.

As the evening grew quieter, the Princess found herself feeling safe, for the first time in a while. She was all too aware of Cap's arm slung over the back of her chair, dangerously close to being around her shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat every time he leant down to her ear, to share something only with her. It was an honour and a privilege, for his words to reach only her ear.

For the last 80 years, she had felt like she was spinning out of control. With the war, and especially the last attack, things had been worse than ever. But now, she could get used to this.

She dared, as she laughed at one of Tony's jokes, to put her head on the Captain's shoulder. As she did, she happened to catch Bucky's eye - he smiled and winked.

Yeah, she could definitely get used to this.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't get the chance to.

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== TAGLIST ==

@vicmc624 @jvdgement @capswife @megluv1 @moviegurl2002 @aliciaasky @yiiiikesmish

i tagged everyone who said they wanted part 2, but let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist at any point! thanks so much for your support on the first part x