#dark steve rogers x male reader

[cece693]

We Belong Together (DARK! Steve Rogers x M! Reader)

Just something that came to mind and couldn't help but write it. Please tell me if you like this style of writing more or prefer my original one. Thanx for reading!

Summary: Dating Steve Rogers was more difficult than you'd imagined. He was a man riddled with insecurities and, unfortunately, this affected your relationship.

tags: dark Steve Rogers, manipulation, the Avengers are no help, toxic relationship, not Steve friendly, gaslighting, no happy ending and ambiguous ending

Your relationship with Steve was rocky, to say the least. And you know it sounded stupid because you're dating Captain America, the epitope of male perfection and respect, but you weren't dating him. You were dating Steve Rogers, the man who was always beaten to a pulp behind alleyways before the serum took over. The man who did everything to fit in, but was neglected due to his health problems and scrawny appearance. And in a way, you sympathized with Steve—he was still the boy seeking acceptance from everyone, and you, who he'd let into his heart after the whole Peggy fiasco, couldn't desert him. But there was a line between what you would label as love and obsession.

It would be fine if Steve wanted to spend each weekend lazing about in bed, arms wrapped around you, not wanting to let you even use the bathroom, but it was another story if he had your location turned on and was texting you hurtful messages implying infidelity. You'd let it pass one time, but when it became a routine, and Steve became more suffocating to be around, you realized you'd fucked up. No breakup was easy, but when you're doing it to Steve Rogers, a man who was known for his determination and unwillingness to change his mind, it would be near impossible.

With his job as a full-time Avenger, there was never a good time for you to sit down and talk to Steve. He was either tired or stressed, with the latter making you squeamish to even interact with. No Steve was pleasant to deal with, as of late, but a stressed Steve was walking into enemy ground. If the damage to the punching bags was any indication. However, it seems whatever God above favored you when your boyfriend announced he'd asked for a week off to spend it with you. His smile was genuine, but you noted the strange twinkle in his eyes when he casually noted that it would be your anniversary.

"Who knows what surprise I have in store for you." He said, but those words, said with so much innocence had you fretting. You hated to do it, but it seemed you'd be breaking up with him before his plan could come to fruition.

"Steve, about that..." You trailed off, looking away from him to gain courage, but found none. "I don't think we're working out. I want to break up." There, you said internally, just like ripping off a bandaid. You risked looking up at Steve and instantly regretted it. He had a look of silent fury and violence??? but then it washed over with indifference. You expected yelling, even begging, but silence stung more. "I'm sorry, but I..." How would you broach the topic of his toxicity without sounding like a total asshole?

"Is there someone else?" Steve interrupted, quite rudely. He tilted his head, mind racing with every person who'd ever interacted with you. Who had convoluted your mind into breaking up with him? If there was another man, Steve would make them regret their existence. Taking what wasn't theirs to begin with. "Is it Thomas? I knew he wasn't just a friend."

"No!" You shouted, hurt by the implication. Thomas was a co-worker who you befriended—he was like a brother to you, nothing more, nothing less. "This is part of the problem, Steve. You think I always cheat, making me feel stupid for overreacting to your jealousy when it's unhealthy as hell."

"But you always seem so close to everyone else." Your ex replied, his voice wavering between anger and insecurity. "How am I supposed to feel when I see you laughing and talking with Thomas like that?"

You shook your head, frustration boiling over. "How are you supposed to feel?! You're supposed to trust me, Steve! You're supposed to know that if I'm with you, it's because I chose you. But you keep pushing me away with all this suspicion. It's exhausting."

Steve clenched his fists, struggling to find the words. "I only act this way because I care about you, because I don't want to lose you. You know how much I love you. If I didn't care so much, I wouldn't be jealous." He knew it was a stupid reason, but Steve was desperate. He wouldn't lose you over something he had no control over. Didn't you know how handsome, pretty, and unique you truly were? Didn't you see the hungry stares people throw your way? It was Steve's duty as a boyfriend to show them you were taken; his completely.

"That's another thing, Steve! You alienating me from my friends and co-workers."

Steve's face twisted in frustration. "So, what? I should just sit back and let whomever get close to you?"

"I can't control everyone's actions, Steve! Don't try to guilt trip me into thinking your behavior is normal...it isn't. Your reaction just reaffirms my decision." Not wanting to face your ex any longer, you stood up from the table and headed to the door. After all, this was Steve's apartment, and as much as he tried to encourage you to move in, right now you were grateful you stood your ground. But not even before your hand touched the doorknob, Steve's whimpers sounded behind you.

Steve panicked seeing you near the door. You had to understand—he never meant to make you angry, he just loves you so much that perhaps his behavior did come off as overbearing. But this was for your own good, Steve thought, you were too naive, too trusting of people who would only take advantage of you. With tears in his eyes, Steve began to whimper and make himself look half his size. "I'm sorry. I'll change, I promise, but please don't leave me. I love you."

It irked Steve that you didn't face him, but when he saw you pause, his heart rejoiced. Just for it to quickly fall again when you did open the door and told him you couldn't do this anymore. Unable to do anything as you finally closed the door, leaving him alone, Steve's anger made an appearance. Grabbing the closest thing to him, he flung it to the wall and continued to do so until every single item in his living room lay in thousands of tiny little pieces.

You're acting irrationally, Steve told himself. You'll soon come to realize the grave mistake you are making. I'm the only one who could protect and love you. I'll give you space to calm down, and then, perhaps you can understand me.

A week had passed since you'd broken up with Steve, and the man wasn't taking the news well. He believed you would've crumbled and ran back into his arms once the day ended, but when you hadn't called, much less answered his messages, the man grew furious. How dare you block his number and change the locks on your door? Did you have a visitor over, taking advantage of his absence to fuck whomever you desired? Didn't he mean anything to you? The week's absence had made Steve spiral out of control.

The reasonable part of him told him to move on, respect your wishes, and cease contact, but this was you. You weren't replaceable to Steve, oh no, he would make you stand by his side until death do part. Didn't you see you guys were meant to be? It also probably didn't help that the Avengers took his side and began feeding into Steve's delusions.

"I don't get it, man. You treat him right and love him unconditionally. How could he break your heart?" Was Tony's response once he heard of your relationship status. "He's dumb to break things off. I can only hope my relationship with Pepper is as strong as yours." Yeah, Tony wasn't really a help in calming Steve down.

Meanwhile, you were picking up the pieces of your life. Reconnecting with friends Steve had frightened off and taking a much-needed vacation from New York. You couldn't escape Steve when he was a public image—Captain America basically ruled over New York and had a place in people's hearts.

Sitting down at the little cabin you rented for the month, you sipped on your coffee and rethought your plans. Initially, you wanted to just start anew in New York, forget about Steve, and continue living your life, but that was thrown out the window. You could sense eyes wherever you went after breaking things off with Steve, and you might be crazy for saying such a thing, but you knew Steve. Knew he would pull strings to keep in contact and have an eye on you.

It also wasn't unreasonable to make such a connection when Steve was the leader of the Avengers—a team of superheroes with varying skills and resources. So your original plan of staying turned into you seeking residence as far away from the U.S. as possible. Yet, when you believe you've found the perfect place, something gets in the way—your bank is unable to transfer funds, the listing immediately reads as sold, the realtor not answering your calls. Every hindrance only makes you come to the same conclusion—Steve.

Yelling when the mug shattered in your hand, hot coffee burning your skin, you realized you weren’t alone. The front door of the cabin was closed, but standing next to it was Steve. The nearby lamp cast a dim, flickering light over his figure, highlighting his state of disarray. His once clean-cut appearance was gone, replaced by stubble, messy hair, and a simple t-shirt with jeans that looked like they’d been slept in. "Get out." You hissed, but the man only stepped closer, frightening you. "Get out! I don't want anything to do with you."

"I tried to be nice, and give you space, but nothing works." Steve said, ignoring your wishes as he advanced toward you. For every step he took, you stepped back twice. You couldn't help but fear for your safety when Steve disregarded your wishes and had this glint of madness in his eyes. "I need you. Can't you see that?"

Your back hit the wall, trapping you as Steve loomed closer. You never took your eyes off him, every nerve in your body screaming for you to escape, but there was nowhere left to go. "Steve, please." you begged, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperation. "You're scaring me. This isn't love."

Steve’s hand reached out, brushing against your cheek in a gesture that once might have been tender, but now only filled you with dread. "You’ll see, in time. You’ll remember how good we were together. You just need to stop fighting it."

Before you could react, Steve's hand shot out, gripping your chin with a force that made you wince. In a flash, he pulled you closer and crushed his lips against yours, his kiss bruising and possessive. You struggled against him, trying to push him away, but his arms were too strong, locking you in place as he held you tightly.

Your mind raced, panic surging through you as you fought to break free. This was not the man you once cared for; this was someone consumed by a twisted obsession, willing to do anything to keep you. Tears welled in your eyes as you clawed at his arms, desperate for air, desperate to escape.

[buckyshusband0]

coming soon

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 1

Started a new AU called Affectionate Obsession, with Steve Rogers as the first Character Story Series to be told I hope you all enjoy and don't be afraid to tell me what you think.

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The low hum of the factory machinery buzzed in my ears as I sat in the breakroom, staring at the sad sandwich I’d slapped together this morning. How did I end up here? After years of hard work and late-night study sessions, my Finance degree didn’t seem to mean anything anymore. Instead of crunching numbers and living the life I’d dreamed of, I was here—packaging cardboard boxes and watching my future slip away.

I glanced down at my phone, a knot forming in my throat. Rent was coming up in two weeks, and I had no idea how I was going to scrape the money together. The thought of moving back in with my parents twisted my stomach in knots. No way could I go back to their judgmental looks, the snide remarks about my life choices, or their constant need to belittle everything I’ve done. I'd rather sleep on a park bench than deal with that.

My phone buzzed on the table, jolting me from my thoughts. I looked down at the screen and felt my heart sink a little deeper.

Sharon.

Of all the people who could be reaching out, she was the last person I expected—or wanted—to hear from. We hadn’t spoken since graduation, and that was by design. Things between us hadn’t ended well, and the fact that she was contacting me now couldn’t mean anything good.

With a sigh, I swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Wow, you actually picked up," Sharon's voice dripped with that same smugness that always made me grit my teeth. "I wasn’t sure if you were still alive."

I rolled my eyes, immediately regretting answering. "Yeah, still kicking. How are you?" I shot back, not even trying to hide my sarcasm.

"Fabulous, of course." Her voice was so sugary sweet it made my stomach churn. "Anyway, I’ll get to the point. A few of us are going on a trip—Maldives. One-month private villa. You should come."

I blinked, trying to process what she’d just said. A month-long vacation in the Maldives? Out of nowhere?

"Uh… I don’t think I can," I muttered, the discomfort rising up my spine. "I’m working right now, and I can’t afford a trip like that."

There was a brief silence, followed by Sharon’s familiar, annoyed huff. "Steve’s paying for everything, so don’t worry about that."

As if money was the only issue. I shook my head, feeling my frustration rise. "It’s not just about money. I can’t take off from work for two months."

"Why not?" she snapped, sounding genuinely confused, like the concept of having to work to survive was foreign to her. "Just quit."

I almost laughed at how ridiculous she sounded. "I can’t just quit, Sharon. I need this job. Some of us actually have bills to pay."

"Whatever," she sighed, clearly losing interest. "Look, if you change your mind, you’ve got three months to figure it out. We’re leaving in July."

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a smart remark. "I’ll let you know."

And with that, she hung up.

I stared at the phone, my mind spinning. Why now? Why was Sharon suddenly interested in inviting me on this extravagant trip after all this time? After everything that happened?

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I shook off the nagging feeling. Whatever she and her clique were up to, I wasn’t about to fall for it. Not this time.

I had more pressing things to worry about—like making it through the rest of my shift without falling apart.

***

Three weeks after Sharon’s call, I found myself standing in the manager’s office, trying to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth.

“Budget cuts,” Diane said flatly, as if that explained everything.

“But I’m the only one being fired,” I pointed out, confusion mixing with anger. “How does that make sense?”

Diane shrugged, clearly uninterested. “It’s just how things are.”

I knew better than to push back too much, but it still gnawed at me. Budget cuts? No way. This factory wasn’t exactly rolling in dough, but I’d seen plenty of new hires lately. So why me?

As I walked out of her office, I thought back to the time I’d corrected Diane on… well, something trivial. She’d been going on about a new process we had to follow, and I’d pointed out a mistake in her instructions. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. I remembered she’d gone all red in the face, tight-lipped, and I could tell she didn’t appreciate being corrected, but it seemed like she was over it.

Did she have something to do with this? It didn’t make sense. I was practically invisible at the factory. Why would she care?

Still, it stung. Whatever the real reason, I was out of a job.

A few weeks later, my luck hadn’t changed. I spent every waking moment job hunting, praying something would come through before the end of the month. But it didn’t.

When it became clear I couldn’t afford my rent anymore, I had to make a decision: drown in debt or swallow my pride and move back in with my parents.

I hated the idea. But bills were piling up, and the pressure was too much, so I chose my parents.

The moment I walked through the door with my boxes, my mom took it upon herself to help me unpack—which, of course, meant a nonstop commentary on all the poor decisions I’d made in life.

“I told you this would happen,” she said, folding one of my shirts with military precision. “You never listen. You should have stayed closer to home, gone into something practical. But no, you wanted to follow your dreams.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back the urge to snap. It was always the same speech: how I should’ve done this, should’ve done that. As if I didn’t feel bad enough already. But I stayed quiet, nodding along while she reminded me just how incapable I was.

I’d been living with my parents for a month and a half now, and I was at my breaking point. Their constant nagging, the tension, the way they hovered over me—it was driving me insane. I needed out.

One week before Sharon and the girls were set to leave for the Maldives, I caved. Desperation took over, and I found myself texting Sharon, asking if there was still space for me on the trip.

Honestly, I didn’t expect her to respond. But then, there it was: a yes. Along with a list of things to pack and an address of where to meet them.

I stared at my phone in disbelief for a second. I was actually going to do this. Anything to get away from my parents.

When I told them about the trip, their reaction was immediate approval. Of course, the second they heard Sharon and Steve would be there, they were practically pushing me out the door.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” my mom beamed. “Sharon’s such a successful young woman. You should really try to get back on her good side.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course they loved Sharon. She was everything they wanted me to be—successful, put together, and always in the right circles. And Steve? They practically worshiped the guy. The heir to a tech empire. Who wouldn’t?

“Just make sure there’s no more falling outs this time,” my dad added, like I’d ever intentionally ruined things with Sharon.

I remembered the first time I told them about our fallout. They acted like I’d told them I was addicted to drugs, and they never really forgave me for it.

Now, it seemed I was being given a second chance to make everything “right.”

And honestly? I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but at this point, I’d do anything to get away from here.

***

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this whole trip might be some elaborate prank. I half-expected to show up and find a hidden camera crew waiting to embarrass me. But here I was, standing in front of a private jet, struggling with my heavy luggage.

“Need a hand?” a man’s voice cut through my thoughts. Before I could even respond, he was already taking my bags, prying them from my grip with an ease that felt almost dismissive.

"Uh, thanks," I muttered, watching him haul the luggage up the steps of the jet. Was this even real?

Inside, Sharon was waiting, her bright smile as fake as I remembered. “Kiwi! Oh my God, look at you!” Her eyes swept over me, lingering on all the wrong places. “Still… you,” she added, her tone too sharp to be anything close to nice.

“Yeah,” I replied, biting back the instinct to roll my eyes. Same old Sharon. Still poking at me for being shorter and curvier than the rest of them. “Still me.”

I looked to Natasha, Jane and Pepper and waved before following them into the Private Jet.

Sharon smirked, gesturing toward the jet's sleek interior. “Welcome aboard. I bet it’s been a while since you’ve ridden in anything like this?”

I didn’t bother with a response. There were a million reasons why I didn’t fly on private jets, one being that I couldn’t afford too, but it wasn’t worth the energy. I followed Sharon inside, catching sight of the group lounging around like they belonged there.

Steve was the first to greet me, his golden hair practically glowing in the soft light as he flashed that easy smile. “Hey, Kiwi,” he said, patting the seat beside him. His tone was friendly—maybe a little too friendly—but I hesitated. Before I could move, Natasha grabbed my arm and steered me toward a different seat.

“We saved you a spot over here!” Natasha chimed, squeezing my arm with just a bit too much excitement. She shot a quick glance at Steve, then back at me, like there was something I wasn’t picking up on.

Peter was already seated across from me, leaning back with a casual confidence that made me uncomfortable. His dark eyes met mine for a split second, and he gave a small nod. There was nothing awkward or out of place about him—if anything, he looked like he belonged here. Like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Glad you could make it,” Peter said, his voice smooth and low. There was something about the way he said it, something that felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The conversations around me were light, but every now and then, I’d catch something—a quick glance between Steve and Peter, a soft chuckle from one of the boys, or Sharon’s eyes sparkling with something that wasn’t amusement. It felt like they were all in on something, like the air was thick with an inside joke I wasn’t a part of.

I tried to brush it off, joining in on the small talk and ignoring the strange tension. But with every shared look between the boys, every lingering gaze from Sharon, that unease just kept creeping back.

It was like they were waiting for something.

Something I wasn’t in on.

***

I stirred awake to the gentle shake of my shoulder and a soft voice calling my name. “Hey, Kiwi, we’ve landed,” Natasha said, with a small grin, wiping her own hands on her lap. “You’ve got a little drool there.”

Still groggy, I wiped at the side of my mouth, feeling my face flush as I tried to erase the evidence of my nap. I sat up, blinking a few times, trying to get my bearings. When I looked around, I noticed the plane was emptier than before.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.

Natasha stretched, her arms raising above her head. “They already headed to the villa. I guess they didn’t want to disturb you.”

I glanced over at Peter, still slouched in his seat, eyes closed, completely knocked out. The soft rise and fall of his chest made him look so peaceful, like the weight of the world wasn’t even a concern. He hadn’t noticed anything either.

Natasha smirked, shrugging. “I felt bad leaving you two alone, so I stayed back.”

I looked between Natasha and Peter, my stomach twisting. “Oh… right,” I muttered, feeling a familiar awkwardness settle over me. My head dropped slightly. It wasn’t the first time I felt like an outsider with these people, but moments like this seemed to make it worse.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but she gave me a look, one that spoke volumes without needing words. Then she moved toward Peter, giving him a nudge. He jolted awake, eyes wide as if he had no idea where he was. “Where is everyone?” he asked, his voice a little too casual.

Natasha repeated the same thing she told me, though this time, there was a teasing edge to her tone. “They left for the villa, but I didn’t want to leave you two sleeping on the plane.”

Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, giving a lazy stretch before standing up. I wondered if I was overthinking things, but Natasha’s earlier look stayed in the back of my mind.

“Alright, let’s catch up,” Peter said, flashing that easygoing smile of his.

As soon as I stepped off the plane, the warm, salty air hit me, carrying the scent of the ocean and sun. Waiting outside was a sleek black car, ready to take us to the villa. Peter led the way, while Natasha shot me an encouraging smile, like she knew exactly what I was thinking but wouldn’t say it out loud.

But once we got in the car, the excitement that had been bubbling inside me during the plane ride started to fizzle. Reality was sinking in, fast. I stared out the window as the scenery blurred by, and that familiar, sinking feeling crept in.

What am I even doing here?

Every part of me was screaming that this was a mistake. I didn’t belong here. These people had made me feel out of place back then—why would now be any different? I had spent so much time trying to distance myself from them, so why was I here now, in the same circle that made me feel like I wasn’t enough?

Was it going to be like this the entire trip? A constant feeling of not fitting in? The idea of spending two months like this, constantly questioning why I came, made my chest tighten.

I imagined stopping the car right there, getting out, and figuring out a way to go home. But how? I came here with them, and I was stuck until they decided to leave. There wasn’t exactly an easy way out.

I sighed, feeling a knot form in my throat as the tears threatened to well up. But I fought them back, forcing myself to take a deep breath. ‘Hold it together,’ I told myself. There was no way I was going to fall apart in front of Peter, Natasha, or anyone else.

I stared out at the horizon, the villa still nowhere in sight, trying to clear the anxious storm swirling inside me. I would just have to figure this out somehow. I always did.

***

When Natasha, Peter, and I finally arrived at the villa, the others had already claimed their rooms. The place was breathtaking—open spaces, stunning ocean views, and a luxurious atmosphere that screamed money. I was almost tempted to be impressed until Sharon appeared, smug as ever, pointing to the far side of the villa.

"Natasha, Peter, your rooms are down the hall," she said with a wave of her hand before turning to me. Without a word or explanation, she just motioned to the other side of the villa, not even bothering to look me in the eye.

I stood there for a second, waiting for...something. Maybe an explanation, a reason for the sudden isolation, but nothing. No one said anything. Natasha gave me a quick, apologetic glance, but even she stayed quiet.

“Guess I'm on my own then.”

I walked in the direction Sharon had pointed, my suitcase bumping against my heels as I made my way down the corridor. The villa was massive, sprawling in all directions, but as I got closer to my room, I noticed how much plainer and utilitarian the space became. The opulence of the rest of the villa seemed to vanish the farther I went.

And then I found it—a small, one-off room that looked like it had been tacked on as an afterthought. My stomach twisted as I stepped inside. It didn’t have the same elegance as the other rooms I’d seen. The furniture was basic, the decor minimal, and there was no sign of the luxury that was displayed on the other side of the villa.

It looked like a remodeled servant’s quarter. I knew the vibe all too well. Being around people like Sharon, I had seen enough servant quarters to know what one looked like, no matter how much they tried to pretty it up.

I stood there for a moment, soaking it all in. There had to be at least one or two other rooms left over in this massive villa, but I wasn’t given one of those. No, this room was chosen specifically for me. The message was loud and clear: *Know your place. *

I set my suitcase down with a sigh, biting back the frustration swelling in my chest. I should have expected this. I knew what I was getting into when I accepted the invite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my half-unpacked suitcase, trying to figure out a game plan for the next two months. The thought of spending all that time with these people—people who barely knew me, or worse, remembered me only for what I wasn’t—made my stomach twist. I didn’t want to be ignored the entire trip, but becoming a complete recluse would probably just make things worse. What if they just... left me behind?

The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got. The walls seemed to inch closer, squeezing the air out of the room. My anxiety gnawed at me from the inside. Was this really worth getting away from my parents?

Before I could spiral any further, a light knock on the doorframe jolted me from my thoughts. I turned to see Natasha standing there with a soft smile and a casual “Hey.”

I forced a smile in return. "Hey," I said, trying to sound less flustered than I felt.

Natasha stepped inside, looking around the room before glancing back at me. “Nice room,” she commented.

I glanced at her, trying to figure out if she was joking. Was she being serious? Because this room—my room—was anything but nice. It was clearly the smallest, most tucked-away space in the entire villa. My little corner of the world, far from everyone else.

“Yeah,” I muttered, not sure what else to say.

“They’re about to get ready for lunch in like two minutes,” Natasha added, a little too breezily, as if she hadn’t noticed how awkward this all felt.

"Okay," I said, figuring that was her cue to leave. But instead of leaving, she sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze still fixed on me, like she was waiting for something.

I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next. “Was there… something else?” I asked, hesitantly, trying to figure out what this impromptu visit was really about.

Natasha took a deep breath, still staring me down before stating “Sharon invited you to keep Peter busy.”

  I froze for a moment, blinking in disbelief as Natasha’s words settled in. "Wait… what do you mean I was invited to keep Peter busy?"

Natasha’s shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze for a moment before facing me again "Look, it wasn’t meant to be a big deal. Sharon didn’t want things to be awkward, you know? If you didn’t come, there would've been an odd number, and Steve didn’t want to leave Peter behind."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So, I was invited to… what? Be Peter’s distraction?”

She shrugged, looking almost apologetic. "Well, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You two are both nice people, right? It’s not like it was meant to offend you or anything"

I stared at her, still trying to process this. Peter? Then it hit me.

"What about Clementine?" I asked, my curiosity spiking. Last I heard, she and Peter were still together. Sure, she hadn’t been on the plane, but I figured maybe she was meeting up with us later. They were inseparable, after all.

Natasha shrugged again, but there was something uneasy in her eyes this time. "I don’t know. Sharon thinks they broke up, but…"

"But?" I pressed, sensing there was more to it.

She sighed, glancing away. "Clementine kind of just… disappeared. She stopped coming around, and Peter stopped talking about her. It’s weird, though. I don’t think anyone really knows what happened."

The room suddenly felt colder, and the walls seemed to close in again. Clementine disappeared? And now I was supposed to… what? Be Peter's distraction? None of this made sense, and yet, it felt like I was being pulled into something I wasn’t ready for.

I stared at Natasha, my mind spinning as she casually shrugged off the fact that Clementine had just disappeared. Clementine wasn’t the kind of girl to just vanish without a trace. She was... put together. Confident, smart, driven. The kind of girl who had her entire life mapped out from the moment she could walk.

Clementine had been a scholarship kid, just like me, but that’s where our similarities ended. She had that type of grace and poise that people like me only dreamed of. I remember seeing her around campus, always looking so polished, so in control, even though she came from a background as modest as mine. She had Peter wrapped around her finger—he adored her. At least, that’s what I’d always thought. They were practically inseparable.

The last time I heard anything about her, she was starting some fancy job after graduation, and Peter was supposedly gearing up to propose. That’s what people like Clementine did. She climbed the ladder, no matter where she came from, and she always seemed to have everything fall perfectly into place.

I couldn't wrap my head around this. How did she go from being Peter’s "forever" to just... disappearing? And now *I* was here? Supposed to "keep Peter busy" like some sort of replacement? None of this was making any sense.

Natasha’s voice brought me back to the moment. "Yeah, it was weird, right?" she continued, leaning back casually. "Peter just stopped mentioning her, like she never existed. He’s been pretty chill about the whole thing. But Sharon thinks they broke up, and... I don’t know, maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s why you’re here."

I shook my head, trying to process. "Clementine wouldn’t just disappear. She wasn’t like that. She had a plan, she was going to—"

Natasha cut me off. "Well, plans change, right? Maybe she wasn’t as perfect as you think. People always hide stuff. Maybe Peter saw something in her that no one else did."

The idea didn’t sit right with me. Clementine always seemed untouchable, like she had everything figured out. Now, she was just… gone. And here I was, caught in some ridiculous plan to "keep Peter busy."

I started gearing up to confront Sharon, but Natasha quickly stepped in front of me, stopping me before I could make it to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, her voice edged with concern.

"I just want to have a little chat with Sharon," I replied, trying to sidestep her. But Natasha moved again, blocking me. She lowered her voice, clearly not wanting to make a scene.

"You're being ridiculous. Just calm down and think about this." Her eyes darted around nervously. "This is supposed to be a vacation. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You could still enjoy yourself, Kiwi."

I paused and turned to face her, frustration bubbling up. "That was always the plan, but why did you have to tell me about Sharon’s little setup with Peter?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was sharp.

"I was just giving you a heads up," Natasha said softly, her eyes pleading.

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. But I couldn’t just let it go. Without saying another word, I turned and marched toward Sharon and Steve’s room, Natasha trailing behind me, still begging me to think it through.

When I reached the door, I didn’t hesitate—I slammed it open. There, on top of Steve, was Sharon, practically tangled up with him. She scrambled off him the second she saw me, her face flushed. Steve, on the other hand, just stayed where he was, smirking like the whole thing was a joke to him.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sharon snapped, straightening out her clothes.

I didn’t flinch. "I want to go home."

I thought about calling her out right then and there, exposing the whole plan about setting me up with Peter. But I couldn’t do that—not without throwing Natasha under the bus. As much as I was irritated with her, I wasn’t ready to burn that bridge. So I kept it simple.

"This whole trip has been uncomfortable for me since I got on the plane. If it’s going to be like this for a whole months I don’t want to stay."

Sharon's expression shifted, her irritation melting into a smirk. "Sure, whatever."

Just as I was about to turn and leave, Steve’s deep voice cut through the air. "No."

I froze, watching as Steve got up from the bed, his frame towering over me. It was then that I realized how much bigger he was compared to me. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on mine.

"Why not?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Steve gave me a cold, calculated smile. "The itinerary is already set, Kiwi. We can’t just change everything around because one person is feeling a little uncomfortable."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’ll pay you back," I offered, even though I knew it was a desperate move.

Steve laughed, a low, mocking sound. "You have over a hundred grand to pay back?"

My stomach dropped as he kept going. "I heard you were working at some factory for, what, twenty bucks an hour? I’m guessing since you suddenly had time for this trip, you lost that gig, huh?"

I could feel my face flushing as I tried to think of a way out. "I don’t need a private jet home," I said quietly. "Just a ride and an economy seat. I’ll figure it out."

Steve shook his head, stepping even closer. "You still owe me for your part of the trip," he said, his voice cold and final.

The reality of the situation hit me like a punch to the gut. I was trapped, and Steve was making damn sure I knew it.

Steve’s eyes softened as he stood in front of me, his posture relaxed, like he was trying to show he wasn’t a threat. He moved to block my way, but not in an intimidating way—it felt more like he was trying to keep me from making a mistake.

“You’re upset,” he said, his voice gentler now, almost coaxing. “I get it, Kiwi, I really do. But leaving right now? That’s not what you really want.”

I frowned, crossing my arms, my defenses already up. “I’m uncomfortable, Steve. Why would I stay?”

He sighed softly, brushing a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “Look, I get that things have been a little weird, but think about it. Going back home, what’s waiting for you there? Things weren’t exactly great, were they?”

I blinked, surprised by his words. It was vague, but it still struck a nerve. My chest tightened at the reminder of how suffocating life at home had been.

Steve stepped closer, but there was no malice in his movements. If anything, his presence felt like it was wrapping around me, enveloping me in something familiar yet foreign.

“Why rush back to all that?” he asked, his voice low, almost tender. “You’ve got a chance here to take a break, to really breathe.”

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. He wasn’t exactly wrong. I hadn’t been thrilled about the idea of going back to my parents’ house—being treated like I’d failed, like I was just in the way.

“That’s not the point,” I muttered, my voice not as strong as I wanted it to be. “I didn’t come here to feel like an outsider.”

Steve’s expression shifted, softening even more. He moved closer, but not threateningly—just enough to let me know he was serious. “You don’t have to. No one here is against you, Kiwi. You’ve got space here to be free, to enjoy yourself. You’re not stuck.”

His words, smooth and almost too perfect, started to chip away at my defenses. He wasn’t wrong. There was a kind of freedom here that I didn’t have back home. No hovering parents, no endless job hunt. Just sun, sand, and a chance to let go of the chaos.

“I just want you to give it a shot,” Steve continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “If, after a week, you still feel like this… I’ll make sure you get home. Personally. But for now, just relax. Let yourself enjoy it.”

I hesitated, my mind a tug-of-war between the stress and frustration that had been building and the calm that Steve was offering. He seemed so reasonable, so understanding. Was I just being paranoid? Maybe I needed to take a step back and see if things improved.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice soft. “I’ll stay. But just for a week.”

A slow smile spread across Steve’s face, his satisfaction clear, though he tried to hide it behind his cool demeanor. “Good. I knew you’d see things my way.”

He stepped back, giving me space, and for a moment, I felt the weight lift just a little. Natasha, who had been quietly watching, caught my eye, but her expression was hard to read. Maybe I wasn’t seeing the full picture. Or maybe I was just overthinking everything.

Am I making the right call? ***

Steve moved me out of the servant’s quarters and into a small, luxury room. It wasn’t anywhere near the others, but it was closer to the pool in the back, so I figured I could make do. At least it didn’t feel like a forgotten corner of the house.

As I unpacked, Natasha stayed with me, folding clothes and organizing things like she was trying to smooth over the mess from earlier.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, not entirely sure if I believed her or if she was just trying to stay on good terms. The side-eye I gave her must’ve said enough because she added, “Seriously, Kiwi. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

I sighed, my shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s fine,” I muttered. "Just... don’t spring shit like that on me again."

Natasha nodded, her expression softening. “I promise. I just want you to enjoy the trip. We all do.”

Enjoy the trip. Right. That’s what I kept telling myself. I needed to enjoy myself, no matter what. To hell with everyone else. To hell with Sharon’s power plays and the thinly veiled insults. To hell with my parents, and their endless nagging about how I should’ve been more like Sharon. To hell with all of it.

I glanced around my new room, taking in the sleek design, the comfortable bed, and the view of the pool. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe I could actually breathe for a while. Just focus on enjoying the sun, the beach, the space.

Yeah. Fuck everyone. I was going to make this trip mine.

[simplyholl]

The Interview

Summary: After a talk show interview where secrets are revealed, things get heated in your dressing room.

Pairing: Rockstar Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Rockstar AU.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee has me in a chokehold. So this was born from my tatted, horny daydreams.

"Who is your celebrity crush?" The host of the Midnight Show, Chet Smith asked you. Your newest movie was a box office hit, so you had to do every talk show to promote it. To say you were exhausted is an understatement. Luckily, this was your last stop for today. This show was the most fun because Chet brought out all the celebrity guests together. At least you weren't by yourself answering awkward questions.

The other guests were Red Star, the hottest rock band at the moment. They went viral while playing at their local bar. An audience member threw a bottle at their lead singer, Loki and the whole band jumped off stage to fight. They were offered a record deal the same week.

They are known for their wild videos on TikTok. Women everywhere love them. Currently, they are squeezed on the small sofa with you for the interview. Bucky Barnes, their drummer sat on one side of you, his tattoos drew you in like a moth to a flame. You were doing your best to not stare at him the whole time.

The Odinson brothers, Thor and Loki were on the other side. Loki is the lead singer, his long, dark curls and piercing stare made men and women weak in the knees. Thor plays guitar and he is the band's himbo. He's a charmer, flirting with you the whole interview. Steve Rogers is their bassist, an All-American guy to balance the others out. He plays the part well, flashing his megawatt smile at the live audience. But you can tell there is a darker side to him lurking under the surface.

You consider Chet's question; your PR team warned you about questions like this. "Well, I don't really have one." You shrug your shoulders, as the audience begs for a real answer. "Come on, darling. I know you're lying." Loki smirks, reaching his hand over Thor to rub your thigh.

"If I go first, will that help?" Steve asks, being the helpful guy that he is. You nod smiling shyly at him. "Okay, but when it's your turn you have to be honest." He winks at you, and the audience goes wild. He answers one of your costars. You promise to hook them up later. You feel your cheeks heating up, suddenly embarrassed that you have to answer now.

Chet repeats the question, and you bite your lip, pointing beside you to Bucky. "My celebrity crush is actually this guy." Bucky looks ecstatic, high fiving his band members as they congratulate him as if he has won an award. Thor's answer is a pretty pop star who he had been spotted out with twice already.

Loki's celebrity crush is a famous author whose upcoming book features a main male character who looks suspiciously like him. Dating rumors swirled even though there was no proof, except for a few flirty comments between them on Instagram. When it's Bucky's turn he says you, draping his heavily tattooed arm around you. You smile, grateful that he lied to save you from public humiliation. You were sure he was going to say someone who didn't look anything like you.

You're already dreading what the headlines tomorrow had in store. You and Bucky cuddled up on this sofa would no doubt be on every website. You should have lied, you tell yourself. People will start shipping you, his fans would be saying horrible things about you. You should have said anyone else.

Red Star took the stage to close the show. They were playing their latest number one hit. The audience was on their feet, some girls were crying as Loki's sultry voice came over the speakers. You watched Bucky closely. He played the drums like it was his life's purpose. He tossed the drumsticks in the air, pointing to you and winking as he caught them. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

When their set was over, Bucky walked toward the dressing rooms with you, stopping outside yours. "Thanks for saying I was your celebrity crush back there. I would have been so embarrassed if you would have said somebody else." He flips his hair out of his eyes. "You don't have to thank me. It was the truth." You tell him goodbye, feeling awkward about the whole thing. You turn to go inside your dressing room to change into comfy clothes before you go back to the hotel.

Thick fingers catch your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "I wasn't ready to tell you bye." Bucky's lips curl, the light shines on his nose ring, bringing attention to his face. When you look into his shining blue eyes, you realize you don't want him to leave either. You grab the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him toward you. His mouth is on yours instantly. He presses you against your dressing room door, his large body covering yours.

You tangle your fingers in his long locks, needing him closer. Bucky hungrily kisses down your neck, while one hand travels under your dress. He rubs his thumb against your soaked panties. "All this for me?" You whine when he rubs harder, your clit making contact with the silky fabric. You move your hips, lost in the moment.

Voices echo down the hallway, bringing you out of your horny haze. "Bucky" You whisper, trying to warn him so he has time to stop before they see you. "Shh. I got you." He moves his body, so he is blocking you from view. His fingers are relentless, dipping inside your panties. His rough thumb rolls over your clit, you bury your face into his chest.

"Oh my God, It's Bucky! We are huge fans!" A woman's voice comes from behind him. You aren't brave enough to look, so you keep your face hidden. "Thanks guys. I love meeting fans. So, what's your favorite song?" You try to pinch him so he will get rid of them, but he continues talking about the world tour they are about to go on.

He enters you with two fingers, curling them as you moan out loud. The women look around him, finally noticing you. "Is she okay?" The second one asks. "Yeah, she's fine. She just ate too much so she has a stomachache." His fingers caress your inner walls, thumb rubbing in small circles. The band in your belly snaps, arousal flooding his hand as you come apart. Your legs shake, and you hold onto his arm to steady yourself. You clench your teeth to keep from making noise.

"You better get her inside; she can barely stand." One of the women says. They tell you both goodbye, as Bucky leads you inside your dressing room. "You did so good for me, but I need more." You look at him incredulously. He just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life in front of two strangers and that wasn't enough.

Your legs are still trembling as he lifts you onto the vanity. Your back hits the cool mirror as Bucky slides your panties down your legs. His hot breath tickles your thighs as he lowers his face, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. He takes his time, nipping your sensitive skin. He licks a lazy stripe up your center, avoiding where you need him most. His tongue sinks inside you, firm nose pressing against your clit.

You cry out, head falling back, knocking into the mirror behind you. It bangs against the wall, hard enough to rattle the pictures hung there. Bucky drinks every drop of you, moaning as you writhe against his face. His plump lips fasten around your swollen nub, sucking and tugging like he can't get enough.

Your shaking legs close around his head, trapping him as you ride out your high. You cry his name, not caring who hears you. Bucky lifts you, slamming you against the wall. He holds you with one arm, the other works quickly to bring his pants down. His cock springs free, pink tip leaking. You swallow hard, intimidated by his size. "You're so big." You shiver, anticipation putting you on edge. He holds you, lining your bodies up.

"You can take it." He snaps his hips up, slamming into you. You try to adjust as he stretches you, wiggling around to see if the stinging will go away. When it starts feeling good, your arms wrap around his neck, holding on as he pulls out, leaving the tip in. He thrusts back into you, bottoming out. You have never felt so full, he fills every inch of you. He sets a steady rhythm, every part of him feels like it was made for you. You pulse around him, your back hitting against the wall as he sinks impossibly deeper.

Bucky bunches your dress around your hips, thick fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you're too weak from the explosive orgasms he already gave you. You hold onto him as he uses your body, his ragged breath on your neck brings forth the familiar pressure in your lower stomach.

"You're doing so good. Fuck! You take me so well." He praises, moving your thigh higher up his torso. He holds it in place, tilting his hips. The new angle makes your vision blur as he deliciously drags against a place you were sure was a myth until this very moment. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you shatter around him.

Bucky's thrusts grow brutal, taking what he needs from you. "Oh fuck" He moans as he spills inside you. For a moment, you just look at each other, trying to catch your breaths. Thankfully, he knows you can't stand on your own, so he carries you to the sofa. Your dress is still around your waist, arm over your eyes. You can already feel a dull ache in your stomach where he had been just moments ago.

"Do you mind?" Bucky asks, pointing his phone toward you. You narrow your eyes, not understanding. "You're just so fuckin' hot and I wanna remember this." He says, his meaning finally dawning on you. You nod, almost too tired to speak. He angles his phone camera toward you. "Fucking perfect." He examines the photo he just took before showing you.

Your hair is disheveled, giving you the appearance of being caught in a windstorm. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The top of your dress barely contains your breasts. The bottom is by your hips, your exposed cunt glistening with his cum. Bucky set the picture as his phone's background. You protested because you looked like a mess. Bucky stopped your arguing with a kiss. "You know what you look like?" He asks, smiling wide as he turned his phone screen toward you. "What?" You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling insecure. "Mine."

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @queenshu @justsebstan @kcd15

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Little perv | Stucky

Co-Written with @lanabuckybarnes

// Pairing //

Stepbrother!Bucky Barnes x Stepsister!Reader x BestFriend!Steve Rogers

// Summary //

You didn’t mean to walk into Steve but when you do and he tells your stepbrother about it, they will teach you a lesson how to be a good girl.

// Wordcount //

4.956 Words

// Warnings //

18+, Minors DNI, dubcon, stepcest, smut, threesome, both boys are dicks and cute, they are both huge, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (male!receiving), deep throating, choking, crying during sex, degrading, unprotected p in v, anal play, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, spitting, slapping, praises, pet names (sweetheart, babygirl), aftercare

// Authors Note //

This oneshot is co-written with @lanabuckybarnes, I wanna say thank you bbg, for listening to all the ideas, coming up with your own ideas. And especially for helping me to write it while I freaked out. This wouldn’t be as filthy and it wouldn’t even exist with your help, so thanks for writing this together with me.

// Events //

Build-A-Bucky-Bingo | BABB055 | December | Sensory Play | @buckybarnesevents | LGBTQ+ Bingo | G4 | Bisexual Threesome | @lgbtqbingo | Stucky Bingo: Round 5 | 5089 | B2 | Kink: Double Penetration | @stuckybingo

// Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist //

You groaned as you heard the shower running; your body was aching and you were in dire need of the relaxing feel of the water over your body—low and behold just as you’d grabbed your towels Bucky’s friend Steve had stolen the shower from you.

To say you were irritated was an understatement, you’d been dealing with shit like this ever since your dad’s new girlfriend moved in with her man-child son. Bucky was the quarterback of your college football team, a complete catch for any stupid girl silly enough to believe his charming eyes and wicked tongue, which you found out was quite a lot of girls; almost every weekend he’d hop out to a party and either come home reeking of sex and booze or with a girl clung to his hip, sucking dark marks into his thick neck as his large hands ran over her body— they would barely make it into his bedroom before she was moaning like a pornstar and he was growling like a fucking animal.

You suspected all that fucking booze and constant bashing into other burly men had gotten to his brain because he had a teasing, arrogant, don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that rolled off his body in waves. And by god did he love making you squirm.

The first time it happened you brushed it off, after all, he was probably so used to walking around in only his sweatpants; they hung low, the waistband of his briefs easily visible, accentuating his Adonis belt and soft happy trail that sunk below his pants.

You thought you’d stopped your gawking quick enough but Bucky had caught you—and you were in for it now.

Ever since that day Bucky had been more relaxed in the clothing department when he was around you, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a shirt around you; his corded muscles rippling under his tanned skin, biceps bigger than your head bulging as he brought his water bottle up to his plush lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the cold liquid. He tried his best to bite back the shit-eating grin threatening to plaster over his face as he shuffled by you, tall frame looming over you, your ass rubbing against the front of his sweats ‘accidentally’. After a quick glance your way the smile broke free, you’d stopped stirring your tea, head dipped to hide your reddened face behind your locks of hair but no amount of effort could wipe the mortification you felt and Bucky was loving it.

And now he’d even roped his friend into this absurdity.

Noting that the shower had finally stopped you gathered your towels and other toiletries in your arms and shuffled down the hall, bare feet slapping against the hardwood as you walked. Bucky’s room door lay adjacent, shooting noises and cursing flowing through the crack as he played whatever goddamn game that had him up at 4am most nights.

You were so distracted by Bucky you neglected to knock on the bathroom door to make sure it was well and truly empty.

“Well, what do we have here?” Steve’s cocky voice broke you from your trance, his hair pushed back and a towel hung low on his hips showing off his washboard-like abs; he wasn’t as wide as Bucky but definitely just as built. His blue eyes watched you from the mirror above the sink.

Your mouth gaped and shut like a fish out of water as you stuttered over your words, your brain shutting down at the worst possible time ‘Stupid fucking brain’.

“Never knew Buck's new step sis was such a fucking perv” he turned, hand gripping the waist of his towel as he stalked forward until you stumbled over your own feet, your items falling as you reached out instinctively to grab at something close to you— unfortunately that happened to be Steve’s towel.

“Wow! Tryna strip me now huh?” He chuckled, thick fingers gripping your wrist, his towel remaining in place thanks to his earlier hold.

“No-I” you tried to speak but his stormy eyes shot you down quickly.

“Sureee” he smirked, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek “We’ll see what Bucky has to say about this” he finished and before you could react he’d dragged your body down the hall and into Bucky’s room.

“I—I don’t think Bucky wants to know anything about it. And I— uhm I’m it was an accident to walk into the bathroom while you are still in here,” you mumbled, every thought washed out of your mind.

Steve chuckled, pushing you away from him causing you to stumble through the room until you were standing in the middle of it, facing Bucky with widened eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know your sister is such a perv, Buck. Came into the bathroom and when I asked her about it she wanted to take away the towel around my waist,” the blonde-haired man laughed. He walked closer to you, his hands gripping your waist before he pushed you closer to Bucky who was sitting on the bed.

Bucky’s legs were dangling down off the edge of it, he smirked at you with that shitty knowing and arrogant smirk. You blushed softly when he held his hands out for you to grab, when you didn’t take his hands Steve pushed you closer until Bucky was able to grasp at you and pull you closer to him.

“Are you that much of a needy girl?” Bucky cooed, pulling you down until you were seated on his thigh. His thick muscles were pressing perfectly against your throbbing cunt and you couldn’t help yourself, your hips slowly grinding you on his leg. “Oh, you really are a needy little whore, say it, babygirl, tell us that you’re such a horny little bitch for us.”

You whimpered, his thick thigh pressed against your pussy was too much for you to think straight. Bucky laughed darkly, his hands making their way to your waist and he helped you to grind on him.

“Stevie, look how fucking desperate she is, such a fucking whore for us. Say it, babygirl! Say it!” Bucky said in a stern tone. When you still didn’t answer his demands he stopped your movements. You whined, throwing your head back and hitting Steve’s lower stomach. You didn’t even realize he was so close to you but your head was resting against him now. “Fucking say it, bitch.”

“I—“ you cried out when Steve grasped your throat, his fingers were digging into your soft flesh and your eyes widened immediately. He didn’t let go of your throat, his fingers were digging more into your soft skin and you gasped. “I’m a whore for you.”

Both men chuckled, Steve loosened his grip and you inhaled deeply. Bucky still didn’t let you move on his thigh, he was looking up at Steve, nodding towards him and before you could have asked something you were turned around and tossed onto Bucky’s bed.

“Good girl, now ask daddy to let you suck his cock,” the brunette smirked, he was now standing next to Steve, both admiring you shamelessly. It felt a bit like you were nothing but a piece of meat for them, and maybe you were right now.

You didn’t answer him, your eyes just looking at them while you were placed on your back. “Think she wants to be punished, what do you think, Buck?”

A low groan left Bucky’s lips, he placed his hands on the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them slowly down. Your eyes wander over his toned chest and abs to his hands which were going to reveal his hardening cock. Steve was making his way around the bed, one of his hands on his cock, palming himself and feeling himself getting harder underneath the towel.

Bucky pushed his sweatpants down eventually, his boxer briefs following and his cock sprung free. The tip was red, leaking with pre-cum and you whimpered once more. Your mind was too dizzy to care what both men were going to do with you, you just needed them, needing them to help the ache in your pussy.

“Open your mouth and suck daddy’s cock like the fucking little whore you are,” Bucky groaned, walking a step closer. He lowered himself slightly, his hand tapped your cheek lightly and you did as you were told. With a grunt he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately thrusting forward when the warmth of your mouth surrounded his cock. Bucky couldn’t — he didn’t want to hold back his thrusts, he wanted you to take him completely into your sweet little mouth.

Steve who had settled on the bed, spread your legs apart, he’d taken off your pants already, the only fabric between him and your pussy was the thin sopping material of your panties. Steve ran his fingers up and down your inner thigh, inching closer to your soaked pussy. “Fucking soaked, making a mess in her panties.”

You moaned in response, Bucky’s cock moved in and out of your mouth, causing you to gag around his length. He didn’t care how much you sputtered and pushed his cock deeper into you, tears were streaming over your face and you quietly sobbed when he hit the back of your mouth over and over again.

Steve’s fingers were now circling your pussy, the fabric still covering your wetness but the intensity of his movements made you go crazy. He pinched your clit through your panties and you tried to move away from him but he held you in place. Steve then slipped his fingers under your panties, before deciding it wasn’t good enough and ripping the fabric into two pieces and throwing them away.

Any type of protest was muffled by Bucky’s cock, his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue and you hummed your satisfaction. “Yeah, that’s what you like, huh? Fucking desperate slut needs to be punished for your being so needy.”

Bucky guided his cock in and out of your mouth, loving the way your tears fell down your cheeks while he hit your throat with every push of his cock into your mouth. He groaned, his hand making its way around your throat and he squeezed your soft flesh slightly. Your eyes shot open, terror written in the color when he squeezed more and more.

You wiggled, trying to pull away from him but your stepbrother held you in place. He beamed down at you, then he loosened his grip around your throat and removed his cock, giving you a moment to breathe deeply. With a rough laugh he brought his hand to your jaw, and with a bit of pressure he made you open your mouth. Bucky was then spitting into your mouth, looking at the way you involuntarily swallowed his saliva.

“Fuck, you little bitch. You’re so fucking desperate, swallowing my spit like you’re gonna do with my cum,” he groaned, placing his cock back in your mouth, thrusting harshly and fast in and out of you.

Steve worked one of his fingers into your tight cunt, his fingers were moving between your folds for a while, gathering your arousal. But now he just needed to stretch out so he would be able to fit his huge, veiny cock into you. “You’re so fucking tight. Bucky didn’t know your little stepsis felt like a virgin.”

“Oh don’t worry, she might’ve not fucked a boy yet but I know she fucked herself, haven’t you, babygirl?” Bucky cooed. Steve chuckled, removing his finger before he was pressing his finger against your entrance once again. His thick finger entered you and he immediately pushed another finger into you, causing you to moan loudly — or at least as loud as possible with your stepbrother's cock down your throat. “Have heard you moaning my name like a desperate slut, fucking yourself with your small fingers, not even comparable to my cock, babygirl.”

You moaned around his huge length. Steve curled both of his fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The attempt to throw your head back was stopped by the bed and you only arched your back, pressing more against the blonde-haired man’s fingers.

“Don’t you dare to cum you fucking whore,” Bucky growled, his hand back around your throat and squeezing once again. Your eyes rolled back, pleasure growing inside of you especially when you felt Bucky’s cock twitch in your mouth, his balls slapping against your face.

You whined when Steve slipped his fingers out of your tight entrance, pushing one of his digits back into you so he felt you clench around him. “So tight, sweetheart. Can’t wait to fill you with my cock.”

Before you could respond in any way Bucky removed his cock, smirking at Steve like he got the best idea he could ever get into his mind. His tongue was poking out, gliding across his lips when he took a step back and grasped your hair, causing you to hiss. Bucky made you sit up, your front to Steve while your back was towards Bucky.

“Take off your shirt, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty tits, poor things, hidden by your clothes,” Steve mumbled, sitting on his knees in front of you. Your hands shook when you brought them to the hem of your shirt, slowly taking it off and revealing your bare body to the men.

Steve’s hands immediately reached out to place them on top of your breast, squeezing the soft flesh. A low moan escaped his lips the moment he saw your lips parting and a quiet moan leaving your perfect, pink lips. He played with your nipples, twirling them between his fingers until you were nothing but a whimpering and moaning mess.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart. Be a good girl, huh?” You moved a bit, getting on your knees and giving Steve better access between your wet folds. Bucky undresses himself as well, getting on the bed behind you, his big hands caressing your smaller frame.

Bucky and Steve were huge compared to you, and you between them made you feel even smaller. Their hands were roaming over your body, arousal was dripping out of your cunt, slowly wetting your inner thighs. You squirmed slightly, you wanted them to touch you properly, you needed them to fuck you.

“Impatient, babygirl? Do you know that bad girls get punished?” Bucky whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He kissed down your neck, biting into your flesh before he licked over it and kissed the spot. “Are you going to be good for us?”

You nodded your head, letting it fall back against Bucky’s shoulder. Steve stroked his cock slowly, his thumb brushed over his plush head and he groaned while he smeared his pre-cum all over his tip and shaft. He then got closer to you, his cock placed in between your legs and he pushed his hips forward. Steve was grinding his length through your folds, your pussy clenched around nothing while his rock-hard cock pressed against your clit and he brushed his cock over it with every movement.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Do you want my cock?” He asked, grinning at you when you nodded. Your head was still resting against Bucky’s shoulder. Just a moment after you nodded Steve’s hand flew across your face. Your eyes widened and tears built up in them, slowly rolling down your cheeks. Steve’s handprint appeared on your cheek, red and burning. “Shhh— I’m sorry, sweetheart. But you need to use your words.”

Steve mumbled before he pressed his soft, plump lips against your burning cheek. You hissed, but Bucky’s broad body behind you held you in place. To make it up to you, Steve grasped his cock and pushed it slowly into you, his cock stretched you out and you whined.

“Too big, Steve. Please, too big,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes tight. Your hands gripped whatever was close to you, his thick shoulders. Your fingers were digging into his flesh when he bottomed out inside you.

“Doing so good for us. Fuck, you’re right, sweetheart. Could immediately come in your pussy, you’re squeezing me so much already,” the blonde-haired man said, smirking when he looked at you.

Steve gave you a moment to adjust to his size, playing with your nipples. He twirled them between his fingers, squeezed your breasts and sucked softly at your sensitive skin. His cock was resting deep in your pussy, walls clenched violently around him and he needed to focus to not come immediately inside of you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was looking for some lube in his drawer, squirting some of the cold liquid on his fingers. He then placed his fingers on your even tighter hole, smearing the lube around before he pushed one of his digits against your tight muscle ring. You shake your head, not sure if you want him to fuck your ass but when Steve slowly moved his cock you melted into their embrace and let Bucky work his finger into your puckered hole.

Whines and moans were all that left your lips, desperate and needy to be fucked like a slut — exactly what both men did, at least when you were prepared for Bucky’s cock in your ass.

Bucky pushed his digit into you, and you welcomed him immediately, sucking him deeper inside you. A low chuckle left his lips and he looked at his best friend. “Fucking slut is sucking my finger into her ass like she is made to be fucked. Like to be fucked by two men, huh?”

You didn’t answer, too deep into the pleasure both of them gave you. Steve’s cock was twitching in your tight pussy, the feeling of him in you, making you still feel like he would rip you apart and Bucky’s finger moving deeper into your ass before he added another didn’t help your fogged mind.

“B—Bucky, please. N—Need you.” You weren't sure what came over you, your pussy was already hurting with Steve’s cock inside but Bucky would ruin your ass. It would hurt a lot more would he push in especially when you’re not stretched out with his fingers, but the pleasure you felt was just too good to wait for him to work you open for his pretty but huge cock.

“He has to stretch your tight ass before he can push into you, sweetheart. We don’t want you to have too much pain when we fuck you, it’s not just about us, it’s also about you,” Steve told you, his hips slowly moving against yours but just so slightly that you could cry out frustrated. The tip of his head was hitting your sweet spot with every movement and you felt the knot in your belly already tightening but he stopped his movements once again.

Bucky worked three of his fingers into your ass, he scissored them, stretching you out for his cock. And then he pulled them out of you, smirking about the frustrated whine that left your lips. “Needy, aren’t we, babygirl?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the tip of his cock against your entrance. You wiggled your ass, trying to push against him but Steve grabbed your waist and held you in place.

Bucky grasped the lube once again, this time he squirted it onto his hard cock. Without warning he entered your puckered hole. Your eyes widened, your breath hitched and you felt the pain appear in your ass. This wasn’t quite comfortable, especially not with Steve’s cock pressing against the thin wall between his and Bucky’s cock inside of you.

“No— too—“ you got interrupted by another harsh slap but this time on your ass and Bucky was the one who brought his hand down against your skin.

“It will fit, we will make it fit and you will take us like the good fucking whore you are!” His voice was stern and not even Steve’s soft touches against your breasts and cheek didn’t help against the pain in your ass.

You nodded, letting him slide his dick inside of you. Both men were balls deep inside of you, giving you a moment to take a deep breath. It felt at the same time good and bad, you wanted to get off their cocks but at the same time, you needed them to fuck into you and destroy your holes in the most delicious way possible.

Steve was the first one who pulled out of you before he slammed his cock back into you. Bucky and his best friend were groaning just as loud as you moaned when Steve started to fuck you. Bucky followed his movements, and so you were kneeling between those broad men, two cocks inside of you while they slammed into you with such force.

The pain you felt quickly turned into pleasure and the desperate moans that left your lips showed that. Bucky was kissing along your neck, while Steve couldn’t stop himself any longer — his lips were pressing aggressively against yours but instead of pulling away you kissed him back.

The knot in your lower stomach was growing, their thick veiny cocks inside of you, stimulating your sweet spot and themselves made your mind go dizzy. “Please, please.”

“What do you need, babygirl? Do you want us to stop?” Bucky asked sweetly and you shook your head, lips parted when Steve used the moment to fuck even harder inside of you. The only sound that left your lips was a cry and your eyes rolled back. Bucky laughed, his hand sliding to your neck and he held it in a loose grip.

“Guess she wants us to make her come before we fill her up with our pretty babies,” Steve growled. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Fucking love that clenching pussy.”

Bucky hummed, agreeing with his best friend. Your walls were clenching around them and both could tell you were just as close as they were. With a harsh thrust from Bucky into your tight ass and a sloppy thrust into your pussy — which was still hitting your sweet spot — you came all over Steve’s cock. You were clenching around them painfully, sucking them even deeper into you while you squeezed them and it caused them to come inside of you.

Bucky’s hot breath hit the sweaty skin of your neck, and his grip around your throat tightens while he pumped his cum into your ass. Steve dug his fingers into your hips, rutting into you, groaning and throwing his head back.

“Fuck, so fucking tight. Take my cum, take my babies,” Steve moaned and you bit your lip when you thought about his words. Your mind was still dizzy and you could feel their heavy breaths on your skin, their sweaty body pressed against yours and their cum slowly dripping out of your holes.

“Taking our cum like a good little slut. Yeah, that’s what you are, our good slut. You look so beautiful when you come,” Bucky grinned and bit your neck slightly. Both were fucking you through your orgasm before they pulled out of you.

They had their hands still on your body, holding you in place while they watched your mixed cum dripping out of you and flowing down. Bucky dipped a finger into the mixture, bringing it to his mouth, and sucking on it before he repeated, only this time he held his finger in front of your mouth.

“Suck it clean, it tastes good. You taste so fucking good baby girl. Especially mixed with our cum,” he chuckled when you let him push his finger into your mouth, you sucked at it, moaning about the salty taste — it was delicious, and sucking Bucky’s finger was just as delicious as the cum.

You were so fucked out; so high on the aura of the room, both boys panting around you, trying to find a sliver of air around the sex-filled space.

“Fuck” Bucky groaned out as he stood from the bed, slightly pushing your form forward until you collapsed onto Steve’s awaiting body.

“There we are sweetheart you did so well, so good for us…took your punishment like a champ baby” Steve cooed, his thick fingers combing through your matted locks, separating the sweaty knots gently.

Bucky watched the pair as they settled against his headboard, smiling softly at just how fucked out you were, a bubbling mess on top of Steve and soaking up his praises like a sponge.

“Mmm Buck” you croaked out, eyes barely cracking open to watch the man as he slid a pair of briefs up over his legs before adjusting himself. His heart clenched at the sound of your raspy voice just barely forming any words, he wanted nothing more than to dive into the bed with you and Steve and snuggle close to you but he was well aware that you needed to be taken care of.

“I’ll be right with you babygirl ok” he squatted down to look at you, a soft smile pulling on his lips and wrinkling the corners of his eyes before he planted a soft kiss along the bridge of your glistening nose and disappeared into the bathroom.

When he returned Steve had pulled you up into his lap, his legs dangling off the bed as he spoke to you about nothing in particular, keeping you awake long enough for them to look after you.

“Come on sweet girl” Steve spoke smiling at the appearance of Bucky “Let’s get you all cleaned up”.

He stood; lifting you like you weighed nothing, a wide palm on your ass while his other cradled your waist making sure you didn’t slip from him, physically and mentally.

The warm sudded water was a welcoming touch, your muscles tensing as your lower body stung lightly but it quickly subsided into a soothing feeling that left your eyelids heavy. A groan sounded from behind you followed by the sloshing of water as someone settled in; his firm arms pulling you close until your back hit his soft chest.

“Still with us babygirl?” Bucky’s breath fanned against your ear as he leaned in close, his plush lips running from behind its shell to the nape of your neck.

You hummed, but the sound wasn’t enough for the boys. Steve leaned over the tub, his index finger curling under your chin and his thumb pulling at your lower lip.

“Come on sweetheart, use those words…you wouldn’t want poor Buck and me to worry all day about hurting you” he murmured, his thumb drifting over the soft pink of your mouth.

“Mm mm, you didn’t hurt me Stevie—just feeling too good and tired” you mustered, your brain still short-circuiting and swirling in that deep subspace.

“That’s ok baby as long as you’re feeling good” He leaned forward, kissing you gently before accepting the bottle of body wash and loofah Bucky held out to him.

“Gonna wash you up, that ok?” The blonde man asked, already squirting a heady amount of the sweet-smelling scent into the sponge.

“Uh huh” You responded meekly, suddenly the thought of Steve touching you all over so intimately had you feeling all shy—something that made Steve’s heart swell as he noticed the soft blush perching over your cheeks.

His hands worked softly, lifting each arm and scrubbing away the sweat and heavy scent of sex from you while Bucky took his time massaging over your hips and thighs, thumbs pushing into the tight knots.

You were almost completely unconscious by the time they’d deemed you clean; the water had gone cold and Steve had scrubbed the same spot on your tummy a thousand times yet none of you wanted to leave the loving coils of the other. Bucky broke first and brought you up with him as he stood, turning you and lifting you out before wrapping you in a huge fluffy towel. He scooped you up again and walked back down the hall to his room, leaving Steve to clean himself and the bathroom up.

“Shit” Bucky cursed, stopping suddenly in the middle of his room. Through all the fussing over you, he’d completely neglected the fact his sheets were covered in your combined juices.

You turned your heavy head to look over your shoulder, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you realised just what exactly had Bucky grumbling.

“It’s alright we can sleep in my bed” you whispered against his temple, lipsing the spot softly and earning a playful spank in return as he turned on his heel and down to the opposite end of the corridor to your room.

Bucky dried you off quickly, eager to get under the sheets and you in his arms; your soft giggles music to his ears as the fabric ran down your sides and over your breasts.

Finally, Bucky got his wish as he tucked you under your sheets and rounded the bed to the other side, his naked frame curling in beside you, his arm snaking over your waist and pulling your back into his front. Steve joined soon after and slipped into the bed in front of you, his hand running up your arm before cupping your cheek and kissing you softly.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better little girl tonight, can’t wait to do this more” he mumbled against your lips, paying no mind to the fact you’d drifted off to sleep as soon as he’d joined you and Bucky.

“Mhmm” Bucky agreed, blue eyes meeting the stormy colour of his friends “But next time I get her pussy” The growl in Bucky’s voice left no room for argument, but Steve only chuckled.

“Sure man, sure”

// Taglist //

@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @felicitylemon @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @sebastianstanisahotmf @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your affair with your boyfriend’s dad escalates drastically.

prompts. | Steve Rogers + boyfriend’s dad + “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that.” + cum-play, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!boyfriend’s dad!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, smut, cheating, age gap, restraints, cum-play, fingering, male masturbation, orgasm (f), Daddy kink, praise, dirty talk, 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

You can’t even begin to imagine what your boyfriend would say if he caught you.

Steve keeps telling you his son won’t be home anytime soon, but you doubt it. He has a way with words where he can get you to do anything, and that scares you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby,” the older grunts, keeping your legs spread open with one of his strong hands. His skin is flushed and covered in sweat—you can’t help but admire him, even though you shouldn’t. 

The affair should’ve ended ages ago, but every time you tried, Steve managed to convince you otherwise. 

“I should’ve tied you up a while ago—I love seeing you like this, all vulnerable…” Steve says, and you wiggle your fingers just a bit. He’s got your hands above your head, wrists tied together with a piece of red silk. You still have feeling in your arms, but the knot is tight enough to prevent you from breaking loose. 

Your boyfriend’s dad strokes his large cock, pre-cum dripping down and onto his pale hand. He stares at your cunt, admiring his work. Your clit is raw and puffy, and your hole is leaking with his cum. It drips down to your ass and then the bed, staining the navy blue sheets. 

“Do you like it, sweetie?” Steve questions, looking up at you. You’re a panting, writhing mess, with your chest rising and falling. Your tits beckon him to play with them, and so he does. 

The hand he used to keep your legs open—even though the special rope that he tied you to the bedposts with already does that—travels to your chest. He pinches at your hard nipples, and you whimper, pouting at the sensation. 

“Uh-huh, I love it, Daddy,” you tell him, your mouth operating before your brain has time to even think about what he’s asked you. But it’s true—you love everything he does to you, even though you always fight him a bit at first. But Steve likes that; it makes him so hard. “I know you do, baby.”

Steve leans forward and takes one of your nubs into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his teeth as he massages the other. He then switches, giving the other breast the same treatment until you’re saying, “Daddy… Please…”

You can feel the older man’s cock against your thigh, and you realize that you’re in need of another orgasm. When he’s around, you’re insatiable. Perhaps it’s the thrill of getting caught—the secrecy. Or maybe it’s just that Steve Rogers knows how to make you feel so good. 

“What does my princess need? Hm?” he questions once he pulls his mouth off your tit, releasing your nipple with a resounding ‘pop!’. “Wanna come again, Daddy… Please?” you ask sweetly, giving Steve your best puppy-dog eyes.

You catch sight of the greys that decorate his hair, especially in his beard. You’ve told him how much you love them before, and afterwards, he ate you out until you were crying.

“Daddy’ll make you come again, baby. Don’t worry,” he tells you, and you thank him nicely. “You’re such a good girl,” Steve coos. 

He stretches his dominant hand down to your messy pussy, and he rubs your folds just to tease you. You whine, and he chuckles. He reaches down to your leaking hole and groans when he feels just how wet you are. 

“Daddy really filled you up, huh, baby?” Steve notes, dipping his fingers into the mixture of his seed and your arousal. He coats his digits in his cum and pushes in, shoving two fingers into your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, and Steve praises you for taking his digits so well. “Daddy’s best girl.”

Steve begins to fuck you with his fingers, sometimes pulling them out entirely to spread his cum all over your pussy. The wet sounds that come from your pussy are so loud, but your moans drown them out. He curls his fingers skillfully, reaching that sweet spot that has your legs shaking just a bit.

“Fuck! ‘M gonna come,” you whimper, and the older man curses. “Gonna come for Daddy? Go on, make an even bigger mess, baby,” Steve urges.

As he says this, you come undone around his fingers. Your walls clench him, and you thrash around a bit from the amount of stimulation. 

“Good girl, so good for me,” Steve hums, and through your fucked-out stupor, you register the tell-tale chime of the sensor on the front door. Your boyfriend. He calls out, asking if anyone’s home.

Panic surges through you, and your stomach drops. Your sensual mood is immediately killed, and you try to wriggle out of the situation Steve has placed you in.

The older man chuckles. “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that,” he says, and he doesn’t do anything to help.

“Steve! Untie me—he’s gonna catch us,” you spit through clenched teeth, scared and angry. “Mm, no,” he bluntly tells you, and you fight him even more. “Please! You can’t let him see us like this,” you reason, tugging at your restraints.

“I think it’s time he learns how much his girlfriend loves Daddy. Don’t you agree?” 

[holylulusworld]

Best bridesmaid ever

Summary: You always dreamed of letting your dirtiest fantasies become reality. Your bridesmaid makes it happen.

Prompt filled for: @anyfandomgoesbingo: Square 16: Bachelor (ette) party

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: consensual non-con/dub-con, 18+ only, fake attack, implied kidnapping, gangbang, multiple partners, taking turns, unprotected sex, smut, doggy style, pussy slapping, creampie, oral male rec, titty fuck, cum play, anal sex, voyeurism, mentions of sex tape, mentions of callboys/prostitution, masturbation, lies, dark!fic, plot twist, open ending

Words: 4,1 k

Please read the warnings before reading the story. The story contains triggering content.

The room is crowded with your best friends. Your bachelorette party is in full swing. Still, you’re not in a cheery mood. This should be one of your best days, but it isn’t.

You put on a fake smile and try to not ruin the night for your friends too.

“Naughty, naughty,” you giggle as you unpack your best friend’s gift. She gifted you a bunny vibrator. “I will marry to have a dick around, you know.”

“A boring dick fucking you all vanilla,” she winks at you. “This is for emergencies.”

You sigh, deeply. Penelope isn’t wrong. You can’t deny that you are bored most of the time you have sex with your fiancé. He doesn’t put much effort into satisfying your needs but is a nice guy.

“You need a good fuck before you marry that boring loser,” she smirks darkly, making the others chuckle. You roll your eyes at her comment. Yes, your fiancé is boring and all vanilla, but you love him.

“That is enough,” you get up and glare at Penelope. “I know you are jealous of my relationship but that’s no reason to talk like that about him. Especially not at my bachelorette party.”

“Bitch,” she gets up to push you toward the couch. “I should take my gift and leave.” You frown deeply. Pennie never talked like that to you before.

“Maybe it’s time to teach her some manners.” You gasp as five masked men storm into the living room. They get guns out and aim them at your friends. “Come over here, little bride.” One of them aims his gun at you. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

You whimper but slowly move toward the man. He smirks and grabs your arm to drag you out of the room. “Guys, we got the honey pot. Let’s start the party!”

More men stream into the room. They pounce on your friends, but four of them follow the one dragging you with him out of the room.

“Party time,” the man purrs in your ear. He tugs his gun away and rips your dress open. “Look at this, my friends.”

“Who are you?” You try to wiggle in his grip and slap against his shoulders. ”Get off me, bastard!”

You hear your friends; they scream and holler as the man guides you toward the bedroom at the house you rented for your bachelorette party.

“Oh, sunshine,” the man purrs and dips his head as you try to find a way to escape and save your friends. “We will get inside of you, all of us. You are fair game for our cocks.”

This must be a nightmare. The men slam the door shut, locking it as you tremble under their gazes.

“I want her cunt first,” the man throws your ruined dress over his shoulder. He smirks and cups his crotch when you try to cover yourself. “You can take the lingerie off on your own, or I’ll rip it down your ass.”

Your eyes round when the men unbuckle their belts in sync. You sniffle and shake your head.

“Last warning, sunshine,” the first guy taunts, and steps toward you to grasp for your bra and rip it open. “You’ll see, if you follow orders tonight, you’ll not get hurt. Now, panties off.”

You shake your head, and he sighs deeply.

“Fine, turn around then,” he grabs your neck, holding your throat in a tight grip. You slap him and try to scratch him, but you end up on the bed, face first. “Fuck me, that’s a naughty whore.”

The man grips your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a better look at your crotchless panties. “I guess she’ll get fucked with her panties on, guys.”

“Hurry the fuck up, Hansen,” one of the other guys finally speaks. “I got a raging hard-on and don’t want to go for the bridesmaids. I want to ruin the bride.”

“Please…don’t,” you choked out a whimper when Hansen moves his hands over your ass. His hand slip between your legs to part your pussy lips. He hums as your slick covers his fingers. “I’m going to marry.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Hansen slaps your pussy, once, twice, three times. “You will stay like this and wait for my cock to fill this needy hole. And after I’m done with your hole, my friends will have a go too.”

All you can do is bite the cushion and close your eyes. If this is a bad dream, you will wake soon and go back to your life.

“Shit, look at that perfect pussy,” one of the other men says. He slaps your ass, making it sting as it feels like it’s made of metal. “Thank me when I compliment you.”

“Barnes, relax,” a third guy grunts. “She will take your dick soon enough. I want to know if Hansen is all talk or if he can fuck like a stallion.”

“You hear the other three men step closer to the bed. They unzip their pants, and you sniffle again hearing the guy named Hansen unzip his pants too. His cock slaps against your pussy lips seconds later, making your body go stiff.

“Get away from me,” you scream and try to crawl away, but Hansen grabs your legs and drags you toward the edge of the bed. He grasps for your arms, holding them behind your back.

“Give me the handcuffs,” Hansen grunts. “I gotta tame that beast of a mare. She’ll feel me in her bones for days and maybe her ass too.”

He restraints your wrists behind your back, smirking as you sniffle silently.

“Relax that cunt,” he purrs and runs his erection up and down your slit. “It’s a nice little cunt, and I’d hate ruining it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you plea. “I’ll do anything you want to.”

He teases your entrance with the wide head, smirking as you try to wiggle away. Hansen slams home in one go, showing no mercy. You are soaked, and it helps to take his huge cock.

“Aw, there we go, sunshine. Can you feel your tight little cunt pulsing around my cock?” He grabs your restrained hands, and slowly starts rocking his hips.

The other men groan hearing tiny whimpers leave your lips. You hear one of them shuffle behind you. He steps next to Hansen to watch him ruin your cunt.

Hansen roughly fucks into you; he groans and drops his hands to slap your ass with both hands. His arms suddenly wrap around your body to bring you upright. He cups your tits, squeezing the plush flesh painfully hard.

You wiggle again and try to buck him off, but it’s no use. He ruts into you and taunts you with love confession. “I’m gonna marry this cunt, guys. It’s official, I’m in love.”

“Get off me,” you choke out a moan. He’s a bastard, but damn him, his cock hits that spot making you keen with deadly accuracy.

“No can do, sunshine,” he purrs and wraps one hand around your throat. You are helpless in his arms and can only watch one of the other men crawl onto the bed. He winks at you before kneeling on the bed to give your exposed cunt a few kitten licks.

“How does she taste, Rogers,” the man slapping your ass earlier asks. “I bet she tastes like a whore. Our whore.”

“Shut up, Barnes,” the man licking your cunt grunts. He kneels in front of you to grope your tit. “Yeah, I’m going to fuck you too, doll. Maybe missionary so you must watch me claim your body.”

“Mirror,” Hansen grunts. His thrusts become sloppy and you only hope he won’t cum inside of you. “Now!”

Two more men come into your vision. They rip the curtains hanging opposite the bed down, revealing an oversized wall mirror.

“Watch yourself get ruined, sunshine,” Hansen tightens his hold on your throat. He pushes into you, always hitting your G-spot now. You don’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

She looks like a whore getting railed by the masked man. Drool runs down your chin, and your eyes are glassy. “Fuck…no…nggh…” You try to hold the tidal wave back. The last thing you want is to gush all over the bastard’s cock.

“That’s you, sunshine,” he tilts your head to kiss you roughly. The mask scratches your face, but the worst is, that you tighten around his length, milking him dry. You sniffle, and whimper feeling his seed fill your abused cunt. “One done, Y/N. Four more to go. And after we all had our fill, we will start all over again.”

He laughs at your shocked face and pushes you off him. You land on the bed with a loud thud, fearing you won’t survive the night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” the man named Rogers grabs you by your neck and forces you to kneel on the bed. “I want to fuck those tits first.”

“Kneel on the ground for your new husband,” Hansen grabs your arm and pushes you to the ground. You struggle to kneel with your hands still bound behind your back. “Good little cockslut.”

“Perfect,” Rogers smirks as you try to slowly move away from him. “None of this now.” He walks around you to slap his hands between your legs. He scoops a large amount of Hansen’s cum, humming as you whimper at the slightest touch.

Rogers hurriedly faces you again to smear the cum all over your tits. He hums a melody while playing with your nipples. “Rogers loves a good titty fuck,” Hansen kneels behind you to slap your ass. “Be good, and he will shoot his load before your tits are sore.”

“I—” You shake your head but have no choice but to let the man named Rogers roughly grip your chin. He smears Hansen’s cum all over your lips before greedily kissing you.

“Let me fuck those tits, doll,” he purrs and pushes his cock between your tits. He cups your plush flesh, pressing them together as he starts rocking his hips. You drop your head and watch his cock moving between your tits. Your mouth opens and you lick over his tip when he moves closer to your face. “That’s it. Be good for me.”

“Fuck those tits faster, I want her to suck me off, or her ass,” another man grabs the back of your neck. “Lick his dick, now.”

“Shit, Fowler,” the man fucking your tits grunts. “Yes, that’s so much hotter.”

“Fowler is a kinky bastard,” the last man laughs. “Wait for my cock, sweetness, Levinson will split all of your holes and ruin you forever.”

“Shut up,” Barnes grunts. He gets his dick out to run his gloved hand up and down his length.

Rogers moves his hips faster. “I want to fuck her pussy now.”

Your eyes widen at Rogers’ words. Before you can react his cock slips out from between your tits, and you get thrown onto the bed. He immediately crawls between your legs, spreading you with his hips. “Yeah, that’s how you will watch me fuck you, doll.”

Rogers impales you with one forceful thrust. He ignores that you try to wiggle your hips or that you call him a bastard. He silences your protests with his lips, almost smothering you as he starts rocking his hips. “You’re ours from now on. Not a bride but our whore.”

His lips move down to your neck, and lower to your tits. He bites your nipple, forcing a scream to tear from your throat. Rogers is a cruel lover. He bites and nips at your plush flesh, leaving marks as he fucks you deep and hard.

He speeds up with every squeak leaving your lips. Your eyes roll back as he suddenly grabs your hips to slightly lift your hips. Rogers holds you in a tight grip while violating your pulsing cunt.

“Shit, did you see that?” Barnes growls. “She gushed all over his cock like a whore.”

His load shoots into you right after you clenched around him like the whore they turned you into. “That’s it, doll. Now you know the drill.”

Rogers pulls out, leaving you tainted and panting for the next man to use you. “On your belly, ass up,” Fowler doesn’t give you the chance to take a breath. He flips you over, forces you on your hands and knees, and is on you before you can react.

Not that you’d be able to fight him.

“What do you say, Barnes?” Fowler runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs. “Ass and mouth? Let’s fill her from both ends.”

You moan but bite your tongue. Fowler slaps your ass, grunts, and calls you a slut as you dared to make a noise.

“Shut up, you don’t have a say in this,” he mocks you. “This body is ours to use. Now talking back.”

He opens the handcuffs. Fowler takes his time, gently kneading the pain out of your skin. “Barnes?”

“Mouth,” Barnes grunts. “I hope she’s good at sucking dick. I dreamed of having her lips wrapped around my dick.”

“More ass for me,” Fowler laughs as you hold your breath. “Relax, sweetness. This ass will love my cock. It’s made to take it.”

You nod and tap the bed twice. Fowler immediately grabs you by your hips to press his crotch into your ass. He grinds into you while Barnes takes off his clothes.

Barnes lies on his side, lazily stroking his cock. He watches Fowler push your face into Barnes’ crotch, smirking as you eagerly rub your face into his pubic hair. “Good little whore,” he praises. “Now open up for Bucky.”

“Barnes!” Fowler hisses. “We said no first names!”

“Fuck you! I want her to suck my dick, not for you to complain again. Get your dick inside her ass and let me and my pretty doll have some fun!” Barnes gently pats your head, encouraging you to relax and open your mouth for him.

You move a little closer to Barnes and press your knees and the palms of your hands into the mattress.

Barnes watches the man behind you open a bottle of lube. He grunts as you shyly glance at his erection. “All for you, doll.” He lazily strokes his cock, waiting for Fowler to make his move. “I bet you will look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks at his praise. You dart your tongue out to lick over the wide heat. He shudders feeling your tongue touch his sensitive tip.

“Stop playing around,” Fowler pushes against your shoulders to press your face into Barnes’ crotch. “Swallow his cock while I shove mine into your tight little arsehole.”

“Hey, she was so good to me,” Barnes complains loudly. “Right doll. You wanted to suck me good.”

“She’ll be even better with my cock up her ass.” You hear a commotion in the room. The fifth man, Levinson barks orders at Hansen and Rogers. You blend his voice out and only listen to Fowler who lubes one finger to play with your tightest hole. “Such a nice little hole for me to use.”

You whimper and bite your lower lip. It’s a new sensation feeling Fowler’s finger push into your tightest hole. He groans behind you. “Did you ever take it up your ass?” He taunts while moving his finger in and out. “I bet you didn’t.”

“Who’s toying with her now,” Barnes snaps at Fowler. “She’s a big girl and can take it. Right, doll?” He purrs the pet name. “You want him to fuck this naughty hole.”

For a moment, the room was silent. All eyes are on you, and the men watch you slowly nod.

They don’t need to know that you’re about to fulfill your darkest desires. The ones no one else could fulfill.

“I knew she was going to take all of me,” Fowler slaps your ass. You squeak and lean over Barnes’ crotch to lick over the head. He holds his cock in a tight grip, offering it to you like a present. “Now, open up for Barnes while I stretch that hole.”

Barnes cups the back of your neck and holds his cock with his free hand. He guides you down his cock, slow but his hold on your neck is tight enough to tell you he won’t accept refusal.

“Slow, doll,” Barnes moves his hand to the back of your neck. He pats you and purrs your name. “I’ll help you do it right.” He pushes your head into his crotch, forcing you to swallow him whole.

“Yeah, he’s good at guidance,” you choke around Barnes's cock. He smirks as you struggle to breathe right. “I’m better, though.”

You let Barnes guide your head up and down his length, ignoring the other men growling your name, along with profanities. You’re too far gone. Body and soul tainted by the men using you for their pleasure, you’re ruined and know it.

Fowler grips your waistline, fingertips digging into your flesh. He lubes his cock, groaning as his eyes drop to your well-fucked cunt. Rogers and Hansen’s cum runs out of your abused hole. “What a good whore you are for all of us.”

“Fuck her already, I’m still waiting for my turn,” it’s Levinson who raises his voice. “If not, I’ll take over and rip that tight little hole open.”

“Get fucked,” Fowler loses his patience. He grips your ass to spread your ass cheeks. Fowler spits onto the crack of your ass, huffing as Levinson steps toward the bed to watch you suck Barnes’ dick. You bob your head, desperate to feel his cum on your tongue.

The pressure you feel the moment Fowler pushes his cock into your tightest hole is something you’ve never felt before. He slowly moves back and forth, still, it’s a wide and uncomfortable stretch. You hear him groan and feel his hands grip your hips to push all the way in.

“Shit, she’s stuffed to the brim,” Hansen comments. He watches Barnes and Fowler use you to their liking, griping his cock to jerk off. “I could go for another round when you are done, guys. Her ass looks inviting.”

“I bet,” Fowler pants as he gives you shallow thrusts, “she stretched that perfect hole with a plug. Right, babycakes. You knew I’m into fucking ass.”

You moan around Barnes’ cock, unable to answer Fowler’s question. You’re their sex toy to use, and nothing else. You can’t move your head, because Barnes guides you up and down his length while Fowler thrusts into your ass.

They work in unison as if they had done this a hundred times before. Their cocks fill your holes, pushing as deep as possible and you get lost in your darkest fantasy. You close your eyes and let yourself fall.

“She’s there, in her little headspace, fuck,” Rogers’ says. “Slow down, make her feel all of it.” He dips his head to watch Fowler stretch your arsehole. “Make her hole gape. I want to go for a ride later too.”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Levinson barks. He stares at your naked form trapped between the others. Levinson is ready to drag them off you to get his turn, but he will wait and have the grand finale. “It’s my turn first!”

“Shit…I’m gonna cum,” you groan around Barnes. He cups the back of your neck again, holding you still when his cum shoots down your throat. “She’s perfect…” He slips out of your mouth, letting you breathe.

You don’t have time to think about his cum on your tongue. Fowler pushes against your shoulders, holding you down to rut into you. His cock slams into your tight hole. You whimper and beg him to slow down, but he won’t. Fowler is determined to fill you up.

“Butterfly?” Levinson asks, and you shake your head. “You’re such a good girl. We never had someone taking it like you did.”

“Please.”

Fowler grabs your hips. He shoves himself as deep as possible inside your ass and stills his hips. He comes with a shout of your name and slaps your ass with both hands.

It’s over as fast as it began. Fowler slips out of you and pushes your broken body onto the bed. You whimper but believe they will give you a break.

“Aw, butterfly, it’s my turn now,” you groan feeling another pair of hands grab your body. The man drags you off the bed and places you on the ground. “Hansen, help me.”

“I’m not your fucking sidekick,” Hansen grunts.

“I told you,” Levinson growls and points at you on the ground, “help me. I want to give her the best. My cum!”

“Fine, fine…” Hansen pushes a pillow under your head. He spreads your legs and presents your cum-leaking pussy to Levinson. “Satisfied?”

“Not yet,” Levinson steps toward your trembling body. He looks down at your naked form, smirking darkly as you stare up at him. The man is just like you, stark naked. “I hope you are ready for me, butterfly.”

You lick your lips, still tasting Barnes’ cum on your tongue. “Yeah…” you whimper and wait for his move.

“Good girl.”

Levinson grips his massive cock. He looks you in the eyes and starts stroking his cock. Moans leave this beautiful man’s lips as he stares at you. His grip tightens around his cock, and he fists himself faster.

Levinson has been on the edge since the moment his eyes landed on you. He wildly jerks his hips and imagines how your cunt will feel around his cock.

“Y/N,” he shouts your name and paints your body with his cum.

The moment his cream ends up on your skin, your body sizes up, and you cum untouched, whimpering as you don’t know what just happened.

“Guys, that was awesome,” Penelope coos. She smirks as the men she hired to spice the party up get dressed. “We all enjoyed your service.”

“Anytime, ma’am,” one of the callboys she paid to give your bridesmaids a good time says.

“I hope the bride got her money’s worth too,” Penelope giggles. “Five men giving her all she ever wanted. Phew…”

“Five men?” The callboy asks. “Ma’am. Every man you hired is within this room. We don’t know the others. We thought you hired someone else for the bride.”

“What?” Penelope stutters. “No. I only called you. I—I didn’t hire anyone else…”

You wake on a soft mattress. A silky nightgown covers your sore body. “Morning, sunshine,” Hansen greets you with a wink. He took the mask off, revealing the mustache you felt more than once against your clit last night. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Penelope outdid herself hiring you,” you grin. “You followed the script. I really enjoyed all of you and your service.”

You roll to your side to watch Barnes sip on his coffee. “You too, Barnes.”

“Bucky, doll,” he winks at you. “I think after I fucked all of your holes you can call me Bucky.”

“I hope Penelope paid you well. This was…phew…” you sit up to look around the room. You frown, as you are not at the bedroom of the house you rented for your bachelorette party. “Where are we?”

“Oh, that,” Nick Fowler laughs. “You see, we are not the callboys your little friend hired. We kind of hijacked your party to get back at your fiancé.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, we got the script and the guys your friend hired to fuck you gave us all the information we needed.”

“I don’t understand,” you gape at Steve who steps inside the room. He holds the script you handed to Penelope before she hired the callboys in his hands.

“Your fiancé fucked with the wrong person, so we wanted to fuck him over but,” Ari laughs at your shocked expression. “Imagine our surprise when we found out that you wanted to fuck some callboys and send your fiancé the video.”

“He cheated on me,” you snap at Ari. “He never made me cum and dared to cheat on me. I wanted to fulfill my fantasies and get back at him at the same time!”

“I knew I liked her!” Lloyd exclaims. “See, we should do her a favor and send the tape to her now ex-fiancé. He’ll freak out, but she’s safe with us.”

“What?” You huff as the men start chatting about your fiancé, how you came on their cocks, and anything in between. “Guys, where are we?”

“We brought you somewhere safe,” Ari says and turns his attention back toward his coffee. “Don’t worry, butterfly. We like you, and will always make you cum. Just relax, lean back, and enjoy how we dismantle your ex…”

Read more: Their bride (Snippet 1)

Tags in reblog.

[kechiwrites]

property lines

dark!steve rogers x neighbour!reader

kinktober countdown: day two (facefucking).

synopsis: your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject.

wc: 2.2k

cw: dark content, non con, oral (male receiving), femme language + afab!reader, pet names, internal victim blaming, pet names (sweetheart), a touch of misogyny

author’s note: day 2 brings us more dark!steve, i fear i may be incapable of writing him sincerely. he’s just a little too perfect. I like to take off a bit of the shine. thank you @katsukikitten u r my muse.

Your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Mostly because you can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just overly friendly. Maybe it’s the signals you give off, bringing a plate of thick, sweet, cheesecake brownies over to the recently sold house next door, hoping to make a new connection. Suburbia can be isolating, and with all of your friends shaking ass in the city, you need to branch out. It really isn’t the kind of home you figured a single man like Steven Grant Rogers would buy, but then again, you lived in your suburban palace alone, willed to you by your late grandmother and only in need of a few renovations.

He’d been so bright, when you first met him, with a perfect white smile and twinkling blue eyes. He’d been happy to accept the desserts, even happier to return the plate a day later, extolling the praise he and his poker buddies lauded on you over the taste. You’d shrugged it off, “The least I could do for a neighbour. I’m just glad you all liked them.” 

Secretly though, the compliments had thrilled you, especially once you’d gotten a glimpse at the aforementioned “poker buddies”, the whole lot of them, handsome, built, big. All too happy to fix leaky pipes and paint fences in exchange for chocolate cream pie or a dish of homemade lasagna. But Steven  - “Steve, please”  -  was your most loyal customer, always lending a hand, pausing during his early morning jog to check up on you while you watered your flower beds, asking how your book is going, what you do in that “big old house all by yourself” when you aren’t working on “the next great American novel”, of course (his words, not yours).

It’s fine at first, a little disarming to be at the centre of his white hot attention, burning your flesh like he had you under a magnifying glass on a perfect sunny day. But eventually it’s not fine, eventually Steve Rogers takes more and more steps over the property line of overly friendly and into the front yard of wildly overbearing. Eventually, Mr. Rogers insists on weekly visits, popping into your house by using the spare key under the mat he shouldn’t even know about. Slinging his muscled arm over you during the neighbourhood block party, and your neighbour’s son’s 5th birthday party, and the Fourth of July barbeque. He fixes your car without you asking, brings in your groceries when he sees you unloading them in your driveway, brings your mail to you during his daily jog. It’s helpful sometimes, yes, but it’s also suffocating. And you were going to set him straight. You were! But it’s hard, hard to stare into the face of a suburban god, the literal king of the neighbourhood and tell him no. It’s hard to tell him that he’s making you uncomfortable, that you’d like for him to stop being so goddamn friendly all the time. 

So maybe a little of it is your fault. Maybe you should’ve been clearer on your boundaries. Maybe, when handsome, strapping Mr. Rogers came to your front door to ask you to essentially cater one of his poker nights, you shouldn’t have stayed to serve the food, playing happy little housewife in front of Steve’s friends, bringing them cold beers from the fridge and sitting next to Steve, playfully making faces at his hand, then plating up dessert when he asked you to. But it felt good to have his attention. His favour. So when “the boys” start to head home, laying praise and amazement at your feet, you’re sufficiently buttered up for Steve to ask yet another favour of you. It’s not much, of course. Just a little help with cleanup. Then he’ll escort you home himself. After all, there are some real sickos out there.

So you agree. What’s the harm, right?

The harm, it just so happens, comes quickly after you finish drying the dishes Steve washes. You slide the last plate, towel dried as best you could, into his cabinets, sighing in contentment at a job well done. The harm is when Steve turns you around and presses you against the sink, water soaking into the back of your blouse, making the fabric cling to your skin. You stay there for a minute, not processing what’s happening, ready to laugh off another inappropriate joke from Steve. 

You don’t really get the chance.

Two heavy hands clap down on your shoulders, exerting pressure on you until you crumple to the floor, knees hitting the tile of Steve's kitchen painfully. You yelp, struggling against him, pressing, then beating your fist against his tree trunk legs. 

"Stev-" you choke on his name when your neighbour unzips his trousers before you, undoes the fly of the pair you helped him pick out, with him bent over your shoulder while you held his phone, his front pressed close to your back. Pulls his half hard dick out of pants starched and pressed with the iron he'd borrowed from you because his was "on the fritz" again. 

"Open up." He cajoles, and you pin him with an incredulous, confused stare. No. No. This is all wrong. He doesn’t act like that. Steve Rogers isn’t like that.

The hand he doesn't use to stroke himself grabs your jaw, squeezing until you open your mouth, squeezing til it hurts. A sharp, purposeful punch of his hips is all it takes for him to make use of the opening. All it takes to put every little joke, boundary crossing, and stray touch into startling, horrifying perspective.

“It was the baking.” He whispers above you. “Peggy never baked, which was fine.” He sighs above you like he isn’t pistoning his cock deep into your throat with reckless abandon. “But I missed it, y’know? And you, you bake how angels ought to, sweetheart.” 

Tears stream down your face while Steve uses you, dragging your dazed, crying face back and forth on his hard-on. On a particularly strong thrust, he broaches your throat. Your eyes roll up, until he can barely see the perimeter of your irises, and you warble out a miserable moan, begging, all while wrapped around his dick, for a reprieve. Your head is pinned to the counter behind you, and even though you shove against the muscle of his thighs, Steve brooks no quarter.

“Just take it,” he coos, like he wants you to swallow cough syrup, “it’ll be over soon.” his breath stutters when your lips brush against his balls. Steve moves one of his hands to cup the back of your head, keeping you as close as possible when he comes down your throat, groaning in pleasure while you struggle to swallow stream after bitter stream of his seed, lest you choke on it or fucking drown. 

He finally releases you, and you pull back so fast you bang the back of your head on his pristine white counters. The pain radiates through your scalp, grounding you in the moment, cementing you to the spotless linoleum floor of Steve Rogers’ kitchen. You’re both panting, eager to fill your lungs with gulps of air. 

“Whew.” He sighs, hands on his hips, like that took a lot out of him. “I didn’t mean to get so rough with you, just didn’t expect the struggle.” He chuckles, patting you on the head. “But you settled down quick, didn’t ya?” His tone takes on…contentment? Happiness? 

No. That’s not quite right. 

It’s pride. Steve is looking down at you, your spit and cum slick mouth, the weepy, watery state of your eyes, and the disarray of the hair he’d used as a handle, with pride.

Your stomach roils.

He bends low and you flinch away from him, smacking your head on the countertop again. He cocks his head at the involuntary movement, and smiles at you. A familiar, warm thing. One that made your heart flutter with pleasure, beat fast with your own surge of pride when he accepted a pie, or offered a compliment. Now it does the same, your heart speeds up, your palms itch curiously, and your brain doesn’t know if you’re happy or sad. Doesn’t know if it craves those smiles anymore. 

“Just wanna set you on your feet. C’mon.” He speaks quietly, like he’s soothing a frightened animal, and hooks his hand under your armpits, heaving you up with the same startling strength he'd used to face fuck the fight out of you.

“It’s okay.” You bleat, voice as wobbly and unstable as the pair of legs struggling to keep you upright. And it’s not, it’s far from okay, the taste of him lingers in the back of your throat and if you think about it for even a second more you’ll throw up all over his shiny floors, on those godforsaken pants.

“I admit,” he laughs, ducks his head with that small town charm he does so well, “I wanted to last longer. But you were too good.” He winks at you, like you share a secret. Like you’re in league with each other.

He staring, waiting for you to say something, arches a brow like it’s your line and you’re fucking up the show.

But there it is again, that smile, sunny and open, and so pristine.

“Let’s get you home.” He herds you towards his front door, hand glued to the small of your back, his pinky finger stroking the skin exposed by the riding up of your still wet shirt. The two of you walk into the balmy summer air, and the spaces in between the black night, punctuated with the occasional white streetlight, designate your path home. Some of your neighbours’ houses are still illuminated, their warm yellow windows denoting the presence of life. You wonder what goes on behind their doors, you wonder if someone is having a good night somewhere close to you.

You come across your door faster than you were prepared for, the cheery yellow paint job Steve and James had done for caramel apple pie, mocks you. The way he’d smiled in your face, touched you, laughed. Steve shifts next to you, holding onto your extensive tower of pyrex and tupperware, for an instant your blood runs cold at the prospect of Steve inviting himself in, like he’s done so many times before. Not to bring in groceries or put together a dresser, but to pin you prone to the carpet of your bedroom and smile at you.

“So!” He turns, “Same time next week?” You gawk at him, and when you don’t say or do anything, he stoops and slides your extra keys out from under your Garfield emblazoned doormat. The jingle of two, simple metal keys against the little bell shaped key-chain makes your head pound, your blood boil. He unlocks the door, and gestures for you to take a step indoors. You raise both hands, palms upturned so he can give the keys back, so you can hide them, or melt them, or flush them down the toilet. Instead, you get to watch him slip the key-ring into his pocket, before he places your dishes into your uplifted open palms. “I gotta say, the lemon bars were a hit.” He tweaks your nose between his thumb and forefinger, his compliment tempered by the greedy shine in his eyes. You nearly scratch your own eyes out when you get that pleased, soft tingle in your chest.

He smiles and you salivate. He compliments you and your heart responds. He’s proud and your brain tells you ‘I’m happy’.

Why hasn’t it gone away? Will it ever go away?

“Maybe those brownies again, the cream cheese ones?” His voice is hopeful, soft and pliant, like he’s worried you’ll say ‘no’.

Like there’s a world where he’d take no for an answer.

You nod, a jerky, quick gesture that rattles your brain around in your skull. “Sure. Yeah.” You answer, sweaty hands slipping against tempered glass and plastic lids. “Yes. Brownies.” Steve beams, clapping his hands together, once, loud, drawing your eyes to the brutish width of them.

“Fantastic. I can’t wait.” He jogs down your front steps, and the fist secured around your lungs loosens with every step he takes away from you. He pauses at the side walk, one foot still on your property, the other poised to leave it.

“We make a great team. Don’t we?” He turns to you, and this time, he isn’t smiling. This time, his eyes cut through the night and the streetlight and the foggy haze of misfortune clouding your brain.

And the fear finally comes.

You kick your door closed, and you lock your door, and you drop your pyrex and tupperwear and serving spoons in the sink and you lock your windows and you get into bed, still dressed for a poker night you had no business being at, and you pull the covers up and up and over your face.

But the fear doesn’t go away.

And neither will your neighbour.

god i want him so bad. tomorrow, captain soap.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

support city girls who bought $50 of baked cheesecake today, reblog what you like.

[biteofcherry]

How would enforcer!Steve handle his girl that is a little weepy, emotional mess from her period? 🥺😭

No but the way I can burst into tears at the drop of a dime and at the most ridiculous thing when I’m on my blood fail lollll. 🫣

Okay, so I know you asked for enforcer!Steve reacting to sweet Cherry's period suffering. He would be the most doting, spoiling and caring. He probably at times would feel a little helpless, like when you cry from ice cream melting too fast, but overall he'd be quite amazing. However, my brain wanted to think more about a different Steve facing your emotional distress during period 🤷‍♀️

Which is why I bring you the dark mafia bastard versus your period tears, that no one asked for 😂 Sorry!

Touch The Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: Steve being a cocky bastard as usual; annoyingly perceptive too; some period emotional mess

The thing Steve's face does when you suddenly burst into tears over nothing is like a tiktok on acting.

He goes from shock (his eyes widening, nose scrunching slightly) to confusion (frown marring his forehead, corners of his mouth twitching), then through a process of putting together smallest pieces of information and observation.

Finally, he sighs as his face relaxes into this neutral, ridiculously handsome state.

You almost cry from it all over again, because you really like how handsome Steve is, all the while you're still convinced that you should be hating every fiber of his being for eternity.

But since he went after you to your little hiding place and demanded to know what's wrong, you tell him. You hiss the word period and give him a murderous look that suggests he is the one responsible for all women suffering monthly bleeding and pain.

A second later you almost cry again, because Steve doesn't look shocked anymore.

Steve doesn't even cringe when he says the word period. He doesn't look bothered or disgusted by it, which you find quite annoying.

It would be so much easier if the bastard was one of those idiot males, who can't even say the word and they run away at the thought of it.

Instead, Steve tilts his head slightly to the side, scans you from head to toe and back again.

"Then why the fuck are you curled up here and not in bed?" He nods at the old armchair in the library nook, which you never before used, even when reading. It's more of a decoration than comfortable to actually sit in it.

You don't answer him, only glare and pull the two layers of blankets up to your nose.

You're not going to tell him that you love the comfort of the pristine, expensive covers on your marital bed and that while you never minded it at your previous home, you were kind off scared of bleeding on them.

Which is what started this whole thing of you storming into the library - wrapped in two blankets that trailed after you like a train. Because you were about to hide in bed, most excited to find comfort and relax in the lovely soft, clean sheets, when a flash of image of your blood staining it had you bolting out.

It's ridiculous. You never normally cared for such things. Sheets could be washed and changed.

But somehow, this time, you ended up crying and leaving the bedroom.

Steve seems to read your like an open book, despite your complete silence.

"Princess," he sighs, "I've seen plenty of blood. I've been covered in blood an brain matter of my enemies more times than you imagine. Doesn't bother me. Especially not my wife's natural reason for it."

You're about to snap at him that his sensitivities weren't your concern at all, when he continues:

"And the sheets can be changed as many times as needed. I've already ordered three more sets in that cream and gold shade you like the most."

"You know nothing," you glower, but you can feel the heat filling your face.

How the hell did he know that? It's not like you said to him anything on the topic of something so silly like finding the covers pretty and lovely. Which you do.

Steve's mouth curls into a smirk as he leans forward and braces hands on the backrest of the armchair, on both sides of your head.

"Don't think I didn't notice how you curl into a cozy burrito when the cream covers are on and that you stay a little longer in bed. And-" his face inches closer, warm breath fanning your cheek- "that you more often provoke me to have sex outside of bed, so the sheets stay clean longer."

"I do not provoke you to have sex!" You burst, but Steve only laughs as if you told the funniest joke.

Next thing you know, he's scooping you up into his arms - bundled in blankets and all. He carries you effortlessly, not caring for the few protests that you hiss at him.

He takes you to the bedroom and slowly puts you down on your feet on the floor. He rips the blankets away from you then lifts you up again, placing you in bed. On those soft, fresh smelling sheets.

"Now, you want ice cream or something salty? Or maybe an orgasm or two to help with the cramps?"

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Mine - Part 4

Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 2643

Summary: Steve and Reader struggle with whether they can trust one another or not. Both have feelings but is it enough to forgive and start over? Will they be able to have the future they each dream of?

Series Warning: NON/DUB CON, Swearing, Angst, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Male Masturbation, Somnophilia, Drugging, Light Bondage, Physical Fighting, Rough Sex, Choking, Female and Male Oral, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasms, Spanking

Please READ the Warnings!! These will be touched on throughout the series.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait with this fic. I just have recently been able to type again after my right shoulder surgery.

A/N 2: This chapter isn’t as dark as the other ones.

Moodboard by @fictional-affairs

Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo

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Time seemed to go by slowly as you sat in the bedroom window watching as Steve finished chopping up logs for the fireplace. A faint sound of thunder echoes throughout the room and little goosebumps rise on your skin. You snuggle into your hoodie to chase away a storm that is brewing not just outside but within you as well. Steve grabs a bunch of logs and starts heading to the house. Light rain falls from the sky covering the ground below. You hear the door open and close downstairs followed by him walking around. 

The storm seems to pick up as the wind blows through the trees. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and your hands start to fidget in your lap. Will he be in a good mood today? Your heart is beating faster and faster the closer his footsteps reach the door. Suddenly a key unlocks the door and you hold your breath. Which Steve will greet you today? The door creaks open and you sit as still as you can. 

“Doll? I got a fire going in the fireplace and soup simmering on the stove. Why don’t you come join me?” His words held no authority in it but a simple request. 

You slowly stand up and turn to face him, walking over to where he stood in the doorway. Your eyes glanced over him as he stood before you in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. He gives you his million-dollar smile and pulls you in for a hug. Closing your eyes you let him envelop you in his arms. Your arms wrap around his body and you just give in. A minute later he is taking your hand and walking you down the stairs. 

The warmth from the fire hits you as soon as you descend the stairs. The smell of wood burning and soup filled the air as you took a deep breath in. Gosh if this was only a different time and place you would swear you were home. 

Steve leads you over to the table and pulls your chair out for you. You offer a shy smile and thank him. Steve kisses the top of your head and walks the short distance to the kitchen where he can still see you. 

Your eyes scan the dining room and kitchen. Steve was right, this is how you wanted your future house to look like. It’s as if he took all the ideas from your head and made it a reality. Everything in here was perfect except the man you once loved was a kidnapping, psychopath who had ripped away any trust you had in him. Tears lightly poured from your eyes and before you could do anything Steve was wiping them away. 

You hadn’t noticed that he brought the soup over to the table. Instead, he kneels next to you and continues to wipe them away gently as he takes in your shaking body.

“Doll, what’s wrong? You know you can speak to me about anything, right?” His voice is laced with concern and his deep blue eyes stare at you taking everything in. 

You shake your head as you continue to cry. What if you shared the truth about everything with him? Would he still carry out this twisted plan?

“Steve I can’t, I won’t share my thoughts cause you will just be mad at me. I don’t want to be humiliated again with your punishments. Let’s just eat and forget about it, okay?” 

Steve just stared at you. He knew something was weighing on you but did he want the truth? What if it was about leaving could he keep his composure? He shook his head knowing that this was tearing you apart inside and being this nervous around him wasn’t healthy.

“Please, doll, I promise I won’t be upset with you. Just tell me the truth.” His hand caresses your cheek. “I swear I won’t punish you for being honest with me. All I want in this world is for you to be happy with me.”

Your gaze drops to your lap where your hands are and you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself. You look back up into his blue eyes and decide it is now or never.

“It’s not that easy Steve to tell you this. There is no question that before all of this, I loved you from the moment I met you. Your smile drew me in and I knew I was yours forever. At that time you would flirt but always held back with me like you were searching for something else or maybe someone else. That was until recently and your emotions shifted so quickly that I felt overwhelmed but excited that you finally wanted me. But that’s a lie 'cause you just want to breed me.”

Steve’s breath hitched and he was about to retort before you cut him off.

“That night we made love, I finally felt like my dreams were coming true and that maybe you had loved me all along. But that’s not the case. You said it yourself last night you want me to listen to you and not question anything you say. But how can I not question your behavior? You’re mean, and controlling and you have a device on me to keep my super soldier serum from working. You talked about how I broke your trust, have you ever considered that you shattered my trust with you? The love I once had for you is slowly falling apart and I don’t think I could ever love you under these circumstances.”

Steve listened as you poured your heart out. A part of him wanted to be angry about what you’re saying, while another part of him couldn’t believe that you were once in love with him. Once? Steve shook his head, maybe he was going about this in the wrong way. He never liked bullies and from what she is saying he sounded just like one.

“Steve trust goes both ways. If you want me to earn yours then you must earn mine as well. This dominant thing you’re doing over me won’t work if you want true love and a family one day. I’m pleading with you to stop this madness and let’s work on us before my love goes out like a flame never to be lit again.”

He takes a breath in and out trying to contain himself. Yes, he could see what she was saying about him. Steve did want her to make a family with but it was more than that. Little did she know he loved her the same, from the very beginning. He didn’t think for an instance that Tony would match them together in a million years, that’s why it never went beyond flirting. Steve took her hands in his and decided he needed to be honest.

“Look doll, I have loved you from the day we met. I never thought I would ever have a future with you. Not until Tony said we matched. I was so focused on finding the right woman who could have my children that I got blinded along the way. I’ve never wanted to hurt you nor do I plan on it. I just want a chance at us. For what could be? But it’s hard to trust your intentions after you tried to run away from me. How can I know if what you’re saying is the truth?” His eyes pleaded to hers as he searched her face for answers.

There is no way he loved her for that long. But, what if he is telling the truth? She closed her eyes and thought back to the beginning. Their awkward conversations, the silly jokes, him always complimenting her, the soft touches when no one looked and then it clicked. Her eyes opened wide and a tear fell from them again.

“I’m sorry I tried to run away but I was scared. I didn’t know what you wanted to do with me. You can believe this to be the truth. With how messed up this situation is I don’t want to be away from you. Look if we both try, maybe we can work towards trusting one another again. What do you say?”

Steve gave you that smile you always loved. He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s try again and work towards trusting one another. I promise to not harm you or take you against your will again. But know this, if you are lying to me you will know my wrath, and trust me when I say you haven’t seen the mean side of me yet.”

The last sentence sent chills through your body. By the way, he was looking at you, you swore there was something evil brewing. You kept telling yourself to relax and everything would be okay. If you did decide to run, the time had to be right. For now, your feelings were telling you to try things with Steve. What’s the worst that could happen?

The next morning you woke up to Steve cuddling you close and your legs tangled together. You had gone to bed in just his t-shirt and he slept naked.  The rain had ended overnight and the sun was rising in the sky. You reflected on last night after you spoke your truth. Steve let you sit by the fireplace and read a book instead of locking you in the bedroom. It was a nice moment between the two of you when he sat on the other end of the couch with your legs in his lap. 

Before bed, Steve had told you that tomorrow you both were going to try to start over again. That he would follow your lead on this while he learns to trust you again.

You smile to yourself as you soak up all the cuddles from him and let out a sigh of contempt. Just as you wiggle your butt from excitement you hear a groan behind you.

“Keep that up and I’m going to fill that pretty pussy.”

A giggle escaped your lips. “So what if I want you to?”

Steve’s eyes opened at that comment and he had a grin on his face. “Is that so?” He questioned. 

When you wiggled again Steve quickly rolled you onto your back and parted your legs so he could now lay in between them. Steve pushed his shirt up and pulled it off quickly. He rubbed his cock against your already wet pussy. You couldn’t help but be excited cause you knew how well Steve was between the sheets. Steve’s cock started to get covered in your arousal and the tip of his cock kept nudging your entrance until finally, he slid home. 

Both of you let out a groan once he was fully inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your hands claw at his back when he starts moving with hard thrusts. Your nails rake down his back with every thrust of his hips. Steve is on his forearms so he can kiss and swallow your moans. With every thrust, you moan and gasp in pleasure. He keeps a steady, hard pace and you end up squealing in pleasure as he hits a certain spot inside you that has you seeing stars. With every thrust, you’re getting closer and closer to your impending orgasm. Steve quickly scoops your legs up with both arms and pushes your legs to your chest deepening his thrusts. 

Your fingernails scrape down his arms as you try to find a way to ground yourself from the pleasure he is giving you. Steve keeps thrusting into you harder and harder while he starts to play with your clit. It brings your orgasm to a peak as you scream his name into the abyss. Your pussy clenches down on his cock as he continues to plow into you. Once you come down from your high Steve pulls out of you and flips you over to your stomach. Pulling you to your knees he sinks back into your velvety walls and fucks you hard and fast as his fingers dig into your hips. 

This is everything Steve has wanted from you. You're being submissive to him whether you realize it or not. Your head is on the bed, fists clenched into the sheets while you moan out incoherent words. He desperately wants to fill you up and breed you. He knows having a baby will link you two forever and the time to start that family is now. 

The faster Steve is pounding into you the closer he is getting to his high but lord he needs you to cum one more time. His left-hand leaves your hip and his fingers move down to circle your clit again. All it takes is a few swipes and you're screaming his name to the heavens above. Your cunt grasps his cock and milks him dry as Steve cums deep inside you. His groans fill the air as he gives a couple more sloppy thrusts into you. Steve looks down on your spent form and leans over your back to kiss your shoulder. 

Once he pulls out of you he goes to the bathroom to clean himself up before he returns to you with a washcloth. Gently he cleans you up and throws the washcloth in the laundry hamper. You’re completely exhausted and feel like you can barely move. If you had your super soldier serum running through your veins instead of suppressed you could have kept up with him, no problem. Now your body could just roll over to your back and look up at him. 

He was smiling down at you looking like a man who just finished a successful mission. You lifted your arms a little to show him you wanted a hug. Steve lay next to you and brought you in for a hug. He held you close to his chest as you snuggled into him. Your cheek rubbed against his chest hair as you enjoyed this feeling of euphoria. 

Maybe things could work out between you both and you could have a happy ending? It just depends on how Steve decides to treat you, like an object or someone to be loved unconditionally. You both promised to start over and this was the best way to show each other how much you loved one another. Hopefully, he will begin to trust you over time and maybe get your super soldier serum flowing through your veins again. I mean it’s not like he wants you like a regular woman, right? There is always going to be that adventurous side of you and you’re going to want a normal life that isn’t just sex. Though you had to admit this is the best sex you’ve had in your life. It’s everything you dreamed of minus the kidnapping part. 

Steve kisses you on the forehead and groans as he stretches. “Why don’t we get in the shower and I will cook breakfast for you? I’m sure you’re hungry. What does my lovely doll want to eat?”

You smile up at him and answer, “Well I do have a craving for pancakes and you sure do make the best ones.”

Chuckling, Steve nods his head. “I can do that for you, doll.”

Steve rolls out of bed and pulls you to your feet. As you walk to the bathroom Steve slaps your butt playfully. “Though first, I think I need another round of you in the shower.”

You squeal in delight as you head to the bathroom. Maybe this could work, you think to yourself as the hot water sprays down on both of you. Today is a brand new day to figure out whatever it is between the two of you. 

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[buckets-and-trees]

Steve Rogers Collection

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Unless specifically noted, all of my stories feature a female reader insert character.

dividers by my lovely wife @rookthornesartistry

Series & Collections

EXILED NOMAD a series of encounters that could have happened between Civil War and Infinity War SOFT DARK, explicit smut, rough sex, emotionally damaged Steve, lonely reader

↠ July 3, 2017: When He First Got Me (Steve POV) ↠ July 4, 2017: You Should've Seen Him ↠ September 28, 2017: Pull the String ↠ September 28, 2017, around midnight: Put Me Back on My Shelf ↠ March 10, 2018: It Fit Too Right ↠ March 21, 2018: Puzzle Pieces in the Dead of Night

CEDAR TREES a Royal AU historical romance King!Steve x Queen!Reader politically arranged marriage, reluctant pining to true and utter love, SMUT (rough fucking to fluffy and intimate sexual situations)

↠ Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree [3.4k] ↠ The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are [1.2k] ↠ Winter Solstice (response to an ask) ↠ Cold Hands, Warm Hearts [1.3k] ↠ A Shift in the Morning Routine [1.1k] ↠ Love That's Laid Beside Me [5k] ↠ The Silence of the Hushed Sublime [4.8k]

RED, WHITE & TRUE a Steve Stays AU Presidential Candidate!Steve x Wife!Reader politically arranged marriage, slow burn, eventual smut

↠ Prologue: Upstate New York (Steve POV) [1.3k] ↠ chapter 1: Manhattan & Brooklyn [4k] ↠ chapter 2: Las Vegas & Cleveland [4k] ↠ more coming soon

WARM SHADOWS - complete post-endgame omegaverse AU Alpha!Bucky x omega!reader, Alpha!Captain Hydra x omega!reader, eventual Alpha!Bucky x omega!reader x Alpha!Steve DARK SMUT, tw: non con, tw: dub con, fluff beginning

↠ chapter one: When You Fall On Me Like Night [2.5k] ↠ chapter two: Let All Light Go [7.5k] ↠ chapter three: Carving Through the Dark [14.4k] ↠ chapter four: The Working of Your Hands [15.5k] ↠ epilogue: The Dawn Has Come [5.5k]

LITTLE LARK a modern mafia AU with dark elements mean Mafia!Steve x curvy Millennial Female!Reader x mean Mafia!Bucky

↠ Little Lark ↠ Bird on a Wire ↠ Bird Home in the Darkness

BUCK’S ELEVEN  a snapshot series, historical AU, Ocean’s Eleven-style heist premise Steve and Bucky and many other Avenger cameos

↠ Buck's Eleven Steve & Bucky ↠ Bookings and Rings Steve x Pan Am Stewardess Reader [600 words, light smut] ↠ Good Luck the team [600 words]

THE BROOKLYN BOYS a post-endgame where Steve stays in the present rom-com drabble series, slow burn Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, eventual Stucky x reader

SERIES: ↠ 1: Bucky and the Bench ↠ 2: Steve and the Sandwich ↠ 3: Bucky and the Books ↠ 4: Steve and the Skyline ↠ 5: Bucky and the Brief Brush ↠ INTERLUDE ↠ 6: Steve and the Ballet ↠ 7: Bucky and the Shelves ↠ 8: Steve and the Blindside ↠ 9: Bucky and the Situation ↠ 10: Steve and the Best Friend ↠ EXITLUDE

MORE STORY: ↠ First Night [takes place immediately after part 10] ↠ Idle Hands [first fall/winter] ↠ Big Red Bow [a few days after their first NYE]

Double-Shots

Tiny Vessels [1.5k] + Don’t Forget You Were the One Who [1.3k] end of Endgame Steve gender neutral Reader insert, brief moments of non-graphic physical intimacy

One-Shots

Peering In My Hollow Core [2.4k]  Nomad!Steve x Morally Grey f!Reader explicit smut (dubious consent re: sex pollen)

Witchview [1.3k] ignore Endgame/Steve stays, post-WandaVision, witch!reader soft!dark, smut, magic, manipulation

King [1k] mob AU

All the Pieces Fall [3.4k] unidentified male main character x female!reader modern AU, second chance, smut

Drabbles

Not Meant to Be Like This [680] omegaverse, smut, unexpected heat

Steve with a Breeding Kink [750] soft dark, smut, tw: dubious consent

Steve and a Dog [200]  ignore Endgame/Steve stays gender neutral reader, fluff

With You  fluff, potential future Neighbor!Steve scenario/chaptered work

Bodyguard Steve mildly smutty, modern AU

Other Chris Evans Characters...

[noamm7]

I hate liking you

paring : steve rogers x male reader

genre : angust and fluff?

word quotation : 1.078

summary : you think Steve hates you, then one day you decide to confront him and discover something else (much better)

You are part of The Avengers and somehow you get along with all the members, except one, Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America. You don’t know why, but whenever you try to interact with him, he avoids you or simply ignores you. Whenever you try to give an opinion on something, he simply arches his eyebrows and furrows his brow, sometimes simply ignoring you or disagreeing, as happened again this time.

You were in the conference room with the rest of the team discussing a strategy for defeating some monster or being that had come from another dimension in space. While some were talking about their strategy, you decided to share yours, but as soon as you spoke, Steve quickly countered saying it “wouldn’t work” and that it “could harm the entire team if this were done.” This left you silence for the rest of the meeting, only observing.

After the meeting, you waited for everyone to leave, leaving only you and Tony, who was your close friend. Tony noticed how bothered you were with what happened at the meeting and decided to speak up, “Your idea was good, but-“ Before Tony could finish, you cut him off, “I don’t understand what his problem is. It’s always like this, whenever I’m about to say something or whenever I’m about to give an opinion on something important, he simply dismisses me. I think he hates me.”

“Nah, he doesn’t hate you, he’s just a complicated guy to, uh…you know, he came from a different era than we’re in now,” Tony tries to reassure you. “I don’t think that’s the problem. I’ve seen the way he acts with everyone on the team, and I’m the only one he doesn’t get along with.” You speak with an indignant expression, shaking your leg in a frantic manner.

“I think you should talk to him, it’s better than coming to your own conclusions,” Tony says, trying to help you resolve whatever issue there might be between you and Steve. “You think I didn’t try? He either ignores me or makes it seem like it's no big deal… which it could be… but either way, I've tried talking to the guy, and he's clearly not open to talking to me."

"It doesn’t hurt to try one more time, try to catch him off guard, maybe a scare will make him talk,” Tony suggests in an ironic tone before standing up from his chair. "Come on, it's late, and a superhero needs to rest. Plus, I've still got some projects to finish.” You sigh before you stand up and pass through the door, giving him a soft “thanks” before you leave.

after that same day

You were already in bed trying to fall asleep, but what Tony had said was preventing you from having a peaceful night's rest. You shifted restlessly in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but none seemed to work. You then decided to go to the kitchen and make a hot milk to see if it would help you fall asleep.

You descend the stairs and walk a few more meters to reach the kitchen, only to notice that someone else was already there. The kitchen was completely dark, except for the light from the open fridge illuminating the robust figure standing with its back towards it, preparing some food.

You didn't have to try very hard to recognize who the figure was. It was Steve, and you quickly thought about going back to your room, but before you did, you remembered what Tony said - "catch him off guard" - and This was the perfect time.

You quickly and silently entered the kitchen, trying to make as little noise as possible as you approached Steve, who was too preoccupied with adding cinnamon to his own hot milk to notice you. Without hesitation, you called out to him, causing him to freeze and in a split second, grab his cup of milk and quickly move away from you.

Before he could move any further away from you, you instinctively grabbed hold of his arm and tugged him back towards you. It was unusual, considering he was a "super soldier" and you didn't have the same amount of strength as he did, but you didn't think about it too much as you now had him face to face and could ask your question.

"Why do you hate me?" you ask without any hesitation. "Why do you hate me, Rogers?" Steve is taken aback and tries to say something, but not much comes out. "What...I...what kind of a question is that?" You sigh and quickly say, "You didn't answer my question, why do you hate me? Why are you always avoiding me and ignoring everything I say? This definitely has an answer, Rogers, and I think I deserve to know."

You and Steve lock eyes for what feels like a million years, the tension between you palpable enough to be cut with a knife. Steve sighs before finally speaking, 'I don't...I don't hate you...I hate that I like you.' You stand there frozen and stunned until Steve speaks again, quicker this time. 'But I realize...that's not a problem.' In a split second, Steve closes the distance between you and he, your lips fitting together like two puzzle pieces.

The kiss is calm and passionate, and you make no attempt to draw away, so you remain there in the darkness of the kitchen, just illuminated by the light of the refrigerator, embracing each other and enjoying each other's company.

Hey guys, I really liked this, I was inspired by a part of a headcannon that I read from fear street, written by @mordredisacoolname , so I owe him all the credit ❤️‍🩹

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar

In Progress

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧-𝐨𝐟𝐟)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alpha!Bucky Barnes x naive omega!Reader, also featuring: dark alpha!Steve Rogers

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, dubcon, dark Steve, poyt!Steve (yes, he is a warning), mentions of smutt, 18+ minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s your first day at college and Bucky, a popular alpha, asks for your number. (This is a spin-off of my fic Preying on You Tonight, exploring what would have happened if Bucky had gotten to omega before Steve. You do not need to read that fic to understand this one).

𝐀/𝐍: It’s finally here! As the writer, all I sincerely ask is for you to read it till the end. I put a lot of hard work into this and it’s been a long time coming. I really hope you give this fic a chance, and I hope you enjoy! This is 16.8k words.

It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay. You quietly chant under your breath as you make your way into the intimidatingly large lecture hall. World Politics. It’s a senior class, mostly males, majority alphas. But you’ve managed to get in – the only freshman who was accepted – and it makes your heart flutter with excitement. Maybe they’ll all be impressed, you think to yourself, clutching your bookbag tightly as you make your way inside.

Everyone’s already sat down or milling about in groups. You shoot a few smiles here and there, hoping someone might smile back – but everyone seems busy catching up with their own friends. You sigh – of course, you don’t expect to make friends right away. But you probably will soon.

There’s a pack of intimidating looking guys in the back of the room, they draw your attention because of how loud they’re being as they laugh and joke around. Football players, you think to yourself – they’re all wearing blue jerseys with the university emblem. And they’re all so big and broad. There’s a blond one who seems bigger and scarier than all of them, and there’s also a brunet – also big and intimidating but he looks slightly more laid back than the others.

You snap your head away as soon as he looks in your direction, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re confident you’ll make friends, but it probably won’t be anyone from the resident campus jock group. Not wasting any more time, you make your way to the front of the lecture hall and take a seat in the very first row. Hopefully, someone else would join you and you could strike up a conversation.

You’re arranging your pens in colour order when your phone vibrates.

Peter: Good luck, babe! I know first days can be hard, but you’re gonna smash it! See you tonight!

Smiling softly, you text your boyfriend a quick response before putting your phone away – the lecture is about to start and you don’t want to miss a single word.

A chorus of loud snickers makes you look back over your shoulder. It’s the group of jock alphas – they’re only a couple of rows behind you now, laughing over something while they look in your direction. You suddenly feel self-conscious, looking over your hoodie for any stains, eyes scanning around your vicinity for anything remotely funny.

You’ve just given up and gone back to opening your notebook when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s the brunet alpha, he’s standing next to your desk with a cocky smile on his face.

“Hey, newbie.”

You smile shyly, “Hi.”

“YOU’RE SUCH A DOG, BARNES!” One of the alpha jocks hoots from the back and all the rest of the pack guffaws too, some even making barking sounds. It causes the smile to freeze on your face.

The brunet laughs in his friends’ direction before turning back to you, “Ignore them. You a transfer student or something?”

“No. I’m a freshman. This is my first day.”

“Freshman, huh?” He licks his lips. He’s got nice lips; you think to yourself before inwardly shaking your head in alarm. You have a boyfriend, you remind yourself. But the brunet in front of you also has nice eyes, you can’t help but notice. Light blue and shining, along with scruffy brown hair and a smattering of facial hair. “What’s a little freshman like you doing here? You realise this is a senior class? Are you lost, newbie?”

“No, not lost, I’m meant to be here.” You tell him firmly, “I was interested in this class so I applied for it. I was the only freshman to be accepted.” You hope it doesn’t sound like you’re boasting, you can’t help but feel proud about it.

The brunet nods thoughtfully, “No kidding. You must be very smart.”

You shrug modestly.

“What’s your name, newbie?”

You tell him and he nods, repeating it to himself slowly as if he’s savouring the word.

“I’m James.” He says, “I mean, everyone calls me Bucky but you can call me James.”

You giggle nervously, “Wh-Why do I get to call you that?”

His smile is lop-sided and lazy, and you can’t help but stare. It brightens up his whole face, painting an image of mischief across his features. But he’s not intimidating, not like his friends who continue to hoot and yell behind him. You feel fire on your cheeks because he looks kind of… cute.

Wait. What?

“Pretty girls like you are allowed to call me James.”

The professor chooses that moment to clear his throat as he begins to start up the PowerPoint presentation.

“Well, anyways, newbie. I just came over to say hello. And while I’m here, I was wondering if I could borrow a pen. I forgot mine and you seem to have… a lot.” He gestures to your collection of pens – you have one in just about every colour of the rainbow.

You nod eagerly – you hadn’t expected an alpha jock to be the first one to speak to you at college, but you weren’t complaining.

“Sure! Take your pick,” You say enthusiastically “The blue one doesn’t work too well, but the rest are all good! If you prefer ink pens over ballpoint, I’ve got those too!”

“What about this pink one?”

“Oh,” Your response is less than enthusiastic, “I mean… I always use the pink one. But if you really want it–”

He laughs, reaching out and patting your hand softly. And the touch, despite being seemingly innocuous, sends thrills up and down your spine. You can’t help but think how much bigger his hand is than yours.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. You use the pink one. I’ll take this one instead.” He grabs a green pen, and that’s when you get a strong whiff of his scent. Smoky yet dewy – like a cosy fireplace on a winter morning. Fresh like snow mixing with the earth, like cold rain mingling with a special kind of musk.

Bucky seems to notice how you suddenly pause, your nose twitching as you repeatedly inhale his scent. He chuckles softly, waving a hand in front of your face, “Hey, you still there?”

You shake your head, giving yourself a moment to gather yourself before looking up at him, “Yeah, uh. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. Because the lecture’s about to start, and you look like someone who doesn’t want to miss a word.” He winks, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send shivers of excitement up and down your spine, “Well, thanks for the pen, newbie.”

And then he goes back to join his friends, leaving you with a lightness in your heart, a spark in your eyes and a smile on your lips. You’d always thought jocks were mean, but Bucky – James – had been nice. Maybe it was a sign, a sign that your first year of university perhaps wouldn’t be as daunting as you originally thought.

You risk a glance back at him. He’s sat a few rows behind you, next to his blond friend. The two couldn’t be more different – with Bucky sitting back, relaxed and laughing, the pen you gave him dangling out of his mouth like a cigarette. The blond sits up straight with rigid posture, and he looks sullen, a touch of a scowl on his face as he looks at Bucky. And then he turns, piercing blue eyes glaring right at you.

You turn back to look in front. That can’t be right. This blond jock doesn’t even know you. Sighing, you begin to take notes, the world of politics taking over as you excitably fill page after page.

You’re immensely satisfied when the class ends – it was everything you wanted it to be and more. With the risk of sounding like a nerd – and you are a nerd, you’ll happily admit it – you’d enjoyed every second of the lecture, soaking in every word like a sponge. If this is what all university classes were going to be like, you’d stay forever.

“You look happy, newbie.” It’s Bucky again; the rest of his group is milling around by the exit, and you can’t deny the thrill you feel at the fact that he hung back with you.

“I am happy, wasn’t that just the most fascinating lecture ever? I mean, I’d heard things about this professor, that he’s so mesmerising to listen to. And it’s true!” You sigh almost dreamily, hugging your fresh notes close to your chest, “I feel like I’ve learnt more in this past hour than I did in the entirety of my high school history class.”

Bucky just stares at you, a smile on his face that reaches all the way up, making the sides of his eyes crinkle.

“What?” You ask consciously when he continues to just… look at you.

“Nothing. You’re just very cute, all bright-eyed and enthusiastic. Not like us jaded seniors.”

“BUCKY, LET’S GO.” As if on cue, the blond alpha bellows across the lecture hall.

Bucky seems wholly unperturbed, even as you jump from the loudness of the blonde’s tone.

“Your friend’s calling you,” You shuffle from one foot to the other, unable to ignore how the blond alpha is glaring at the pair of you all the way from the doorway, “He seems really impatient.”

With a wave of his hand, Bucky dismisses this claim, “Oh, don’t mind Steve. He’s just pissy these days because his girlfriend’s being a bitch.”

Oh. You have no idea what to say to that, so you just continue to pack up your things.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’m gonna head over to the library,” You answer excitedly, “I’ve heard it’s really, really big. One of the biggest in the country. I got a glimpse of it during orientation, but I’ve got the rest of the day free so today I’m gonna sit in there and catch up on some reading, and may–”

“Why don’t I walk you there?” The brunet offers. And it’s his quiet confidence that gets to you, the way he’s got this small smile on his face, as if he knows you won’t refuse him, “I have a class in that direction anyways. Steve does too. We could both walk you there.”

You glance once more at Steve, who – believe it or not – is still glaring at you. Or are you imagining it? You’re about to respond when a tall blonde girl in a cheerleading uniform skips up to him. They kiss, and then leave the lecture hall hand-in-hand. You turn back to Bucky, who shrugs.

“Well. Scratch that. I guess it’s just you and me then, newbie. C’mon. I’ll give you a campus tour.”

Talking with Bucky is surprisingly simple. He’s easy-going and laidback, completely cool in the way he makes conversation. Talking about himself but at the same time asking you questions about your life. You’ve always been shy but you find yourself at ease with him, you find yourself laughing at his jokes… You even catch yourself staring at him more than a few times, completely captured by his pretty eyes and lazy smile.

“I’m mostly friends with everyone on the football team, but Steve’s my best friend,” He nods at the blond alpha who’s walking a few paces ahead of you two, hand-in-hand with the cheerleader who you assume is his girlfriend. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And then there’s Sam, but he’s hungover so he didn’t come in today.” Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, “Classic Sam.

The walk to the library is over a little too soon.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the next lecture. Thanks for walking with me.” You say, backing away but not wanting to completely leave just yet.

“Princess, wait.” He grabs your hand, yanking you back till you’re only a few inches away from him. And maybe it’s the shock due to the fact that he called you princess, but you just… let him do it. He grins down at you.

“You’re not gonna leave without giving me your number first, are you?”

You giggle nervously, and you’re surprised that you have to swallow down the words ‘yes, I’ll give you my number’ which are on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you shake your head slowly, “I, uh, I have a boyfriend.”

The alpha blinks, hand freezing midway through running through his hair. But then he relaxes, and that familiar lazy smile returns to his face. “So? Can’t friends save each other’s numbers? We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

You feel heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks, “Oh. Of course. I guess we are. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed–”

“No worries, princess.” He takes your phone, quickly putting in his number and texting himself from yours before handing it back to you. “Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy, by the way. But I’m sure he won’t mind if I text you tonight, right?”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer, instead just winking at you before taking off. And you stand outside the steps of the library and watch him for a second. He catches up with Steve and gives him a hard thump on the back before falling into step next to him. Steve still has a scowl on his face but it slowly dissipates, and you watch for a moment as the two alphas talk animatedly. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you earlier, it was clear as day that the they were best friends.

It takes you a while to realise that you’re staring, and you quickly retreat into the library, the magical pull of books and knowledge sucking you in and making you forget about everything else.

***

“I’d say it was a good first day, as far as first days go.” You deduce, walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in your hands. You hand it over to Peter, who’s scrolling through Netflix in search of the perfect movie. Which is an impossible task since the two of you had seen practically everything Netflix had to offer – you guys had more movie nights then you did date nights. Actually, you can’t remember the last time you and Peter had gone out on a date. The thought seemed weird… you were much more comfortable sitting on the couch and gorging on popcorn and talking the night away with him – like you were right now.

“That’s good. Did you make any friends?”

You think back to Bucky’s twinkling blue eyes and feel a jolt of electricity run through you. Bucky was your friend, right? He’d said so. But for reasons you don’t quite understand, you only clear your throat and shake your head. “No. I talked to a few people but that’s all. I mean, it’s only day one, right? Nobody makes friends on day one.”

“True.” Peter agrees, his mouth full of popcorn. “Okay, so, I’m thinking it’s a teen dystopian movie kind of night. Hunger Games or Divergent?”

Your brow furrows while you think, “I don’t like Divergent and I’ve seen The Hunger Games way too many times.”

“Okay, how about Catching Fire?”

“The ending of that one makes me sad.”

You bicker back and forth before settling down with Alice in Wonderland, and the popcorn is half finished by the time the beginning credits start rolling. And that’s when your phone vibrates.

James: Hey, princess. You busy?

A smile touches your lips before you cast a quick glance at Peter. He’s half laid down on the other end of the couch with his eyes locked on the screen. You swallow down the guilt – you know Bucky is just your friend but it still feels kind of wrong to be texting him when you’re meant to be watching a movie with Peter. But there’s a large part of you that wants to answer, and it doesn’t take long for that part of you to win the inner conflict inside your head. You quickly text back:

You: Hey! I’m currently watching a movie with my boyfriend.

Your text is truthful, but you hope Bucky doesn’t think you’re dismissing him. His reply is almost instantaneous:

James: Aw, how cute. What movie is it?

You: Alice in Wonderland. Have you seen it?

You mentally kick yourself after you press send. What a dumb question – of course he’s seen it! Who hasn’t seen one of the most recognisable Disney movies of the last decade?

James: I have. I didn’t know you were such a big fan of cartoons, princess.

You feel the ends of your mouth tugging into a smile before you give Peter another glance. He’s polishing off the last of the popcorn, engrossed in Alice as she tumbles down the rabbit hole. You grab the empty bowl and stand up. “I’ll go make some more popcorn.”

Peter nods, “You want me to pause it?”

“No, that’s alright.”

You float into the kitchen and put another bag of popcorn in the microwave before taking a deep breath and looking down at your phone again.

James: Maybe we could watch a movie sometime? I’ve got a flatscreen in my room ;)

You feel a shiver go down your spine when you read his text, and you let yourself imagine it for a split second. Watching a movie with Bucky. In his bedroom. On his bed? You’d never been to a boy’s room before – except Peter, but he’d been your best friend all through high-school. Sure, he was your boyfriend now but you always do the same things you guys did when you were friends – just with added kissing and sometimes touching.

“Babe, you done?” Peter calls for you as if on cue.

Once more awash with guilt, you quickly type out a text:

You: I’m sorry, I should get back to the movie. Good night :)

You switch your phone off for the rest of the night, trying to focus on Alice’s adventures in wonderland, but the thought of Bucky dwindles at the back of your mind as if it’s there to stay.

***

You plan on avoiding Bucky the next day but that proves to be an extremely flimsy plan. You’re sitting in the front row when him and Steve and another guy – you assume it’s Sam – walk in. You get a pleasant whiff of Bucky’s scent before it’s overpowered by something stronger – the smell of firewood and a hot summer day. They walk by you, with Bucky giving you a small smile and a wink and Steve sucking in a breath, his nostrils twitching as he walks past you. Strange. What was his problem?

You still feel guilty about the previous night. Peter was your first ever relationship so you might not be the biggest expert on these types of things, but you’re sure that getting giddy over another guy texting you is not good girlfriend behaviour. You need to put a swift stop to it, starting now. You spend the rest of the lecture taking notes diligently, stuffing the thought of Bucky to the back of your mind.

When the class ends, you try to scurry away to the library. But you don’t get too far down the corridor before a hand encloses around your wrist and tugs you back.

“Princess, wait up. Where are you hurrying off to?”

“I – uh – I need to go to the library to print something.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh no, that’s okay.”

He looks at you for a handful of seconds before sighing and taking a step back, “This is about last night, isn’t it? My texts scared you off?”

You bite your lip, “James, I have a boyfriend.”

“I know, I know.” He runs a hand through his messy brown hair, shifting from one foot to the other before those icy blue eyes settle on you again. “I’ll be honest, princess. You’re so pretty, I thought I’d shoot my shot anyways.”

Your jaw drops, “B-But I have a boyfriend.”

He shrugs, looking virile and handsome with his facial hair and lazy smile, “That’s never stopped me before. I mean, it’s not really a big thing with me and my friends. If we want a girl, we go after her, boyfriend or not, it doesn’t matter to us.”

“Oh.” You don’t know whether to stay or just leave, and you’re debating over just that when Bucky pipes up again.

“Look, princess. I like you. And I have a hunch that you like me too. And as I said before, I usually don’t care if the girl I like has a boyfriend. But you’re different, I want to do right by you.” He strokes the palm of your hand with his thumb and it’s like you’re mesmerised by the feeling. “I’d really like to take you out sometime. But I can give you time to break up with your boyfriend first.”

You gasp, pulling your hand out of his grasp, “James Barnes! That’s so wrong. You know how awful of a person that would make me? And I barely know you!”

“Just think about it. I really like you.” He says earnestly, blue eyes sparkling and locking with yours as he grabs your hand again, “And breaking up with him will spare this guy the embarrassment of being with a girl who’s no longer into him.”

Your jaw drops open at his audacity, “That’s not true–!”

“Bucky, we have practice.”

Steve rounds the corner, stopping short when he sees the two of you so close, his eyes narrowing as they zero in on your intertwined hands.

“Gimme a sec.” Bucky answers, not even sparing Steve a glance, eyes unblinking as they stare at you meaningfully.

For the second time, you snatch your hand out of his grip. “I-I – uh – I have to go!” You do the easiest thing you can think of, backing away and getting the hell out of there. Bucky’s just dropped a huge bomb on you and Steve’s intimidating as hell, so you deem it best to put some distance between you and the two alphas as you speed-walk away from the situation.

“Why are you talking to that trashy omega?” You hear Steve mutter as you turn your back on them, and the hurtful words make your heart jolt.

“Hey, don’t call her that.” Bucky answers, and that’s the last thing you hear before you round the corner and escape into the comforting clutches of the campus library.

***

So, Bucky liked you. He liked you. As in, he wanted to take you out on a date. This information has you feeling giddier than it should. You’ve never known anyone to like you like that (except Peter) and never so brazenly. You can’t help but feel all light inside. A popular, handsome senior liked you!

But then, the flowy lightness inside you is overtaken by wracks of guilt, showering down on your heart like hard, jagged rocks. You’re with Peter. You like Peter. You can’t get happy over Bucky liking you when you’re with Peter. That’s just a fact.

You lay low for a couple of weeks, avoiding Bucky like he’s the plague. But you know his eyes are on you, glued to the back of your head during every lecture, when you keep your face pointedly facing forward and never look back at him. You can’t. You’re in a relationship. You have to respect it.

But then, things take a different turn than you ever expected them to.

Peter scores an internship at Stark Industries, which means he has to move to New York immediately. And you’re so happy for him, it’s what he’s been working towards and dreaming of for as long as you’ve known him. His goal of tackling the tech world is similar to your own goal of being the first person in your family to earn a university degree. You’re thrilled for him. But sitting on his bed and wistfully watching him pack, it’s like you both know what this means.

The break-up is mutual. Peter says that he’ll be busy with work, and you agree that you’ll be busy with college assignments too. And after one last movie night and a tearful goodbye, you both agree to try to remain best friends. He promises to come see you when he’s got a free moment, and you tell him you’ll travel up to New York once you’ve saved enough money to be able to afford it.

And then he’s gone. Off chasing his dreams and you couldn’t be happier for him.

But now you’re single. And what does that mean for you?

***

Bucky approaches you after spring break, sporting a healthy tan and messier hair. You’d overheard him and his friends talking earlier, so you knew they’d all flown to Cancun for the past week. Lucky them. You’d spent the break studying in your room, making notes for the next set of lectures to make sure you were well-prepared for them.

“Hello, princess. You’re looking extra beautiful today.”

You look down at your old hoodie and ratty leggings and wonder if he’s joking with you. “Uh, thanks?”

“I’m serious. You’re glowing, which can only mean one thing. You broke up with him, didn’t you?” Bucky leans down over your table, giving you a strong whiff of his wintery scent. It’s like freshly powdered snow and warm fire logs, enveloping around you like a welcome hug after your lonely spring break.

You purse your lips together, focusing on your notes except the lecture hasn’t started yet so you have nothing to write down except the date. But you’re determined not to look at him, “Actually, it was mutual.”

Bucky’s grin only gets wider, and to your surprise, he plops down on the empty seat next to you. Your eyes widen, “Wh-What are you doing?”

“What? I can’t sit next to you? Is this seat taken?”

Well, of course it wasn’t. You usually sat alone. Nobody really spoke to you apart from Bucky, but that was okay. It’s not like anyone was ever horrible to you either. Except Steve with that one comment that he’d made the other day. But you must have overheard him wrong.

“So, what did you do over spring break?” He asks.

You shrug, “I read up on the next few chapters on our syllabus.”

Bucky nods, “A quiet week, huh? Well, I wish I’d stayed back too.” He chuckles when he sees your raised eyebrow, “Hey, don’t get me wrong. Cancun’s beautiful, but it gets tiresome after a while. All Steve and Sam ever did was hook up with different girls. Constantly. Me? I just didn’t feel like doing that this time around.”

You frown, casting a short glance at Steve, except you quickly look away because he happens to be staring right back at you. But why was Steve hooking up with other girls? Didn’t he have a girlfriend? You mull over it for a second before you register the other thing Bucky had said. “Y-You didn’t feel like hooking up with anyone?”

The brunet clasps his hand over yours and shoots you a sparkling smile, “Why would I? When my girl wasn’t there with me?”

Bucky takes you out the following weekend. And you don’t know why you agree, when it’s so soon after your breakup with Peter. But when he asks you out, it just feels right, and the word “yes” is flying out of your mouth before you have the chance to think about it. Peter’s probably seeing other people too, you think to yourself. And the thought doesn’t bother you at all, because why shouldn’t Peter have his fun? He was single. And so were you.

Bucky presents you with a bouquet of pink tulips at the start of your date, and sits on your bed with an amused expression on his face while you quickly tend to them. Trimming the stems and finding a vase before setting them on your windowsill. “You look beautiful, princess.” He comments, making your cheeks feel like they’re on fire before he grabs your hand and takes you out.

The diner he takes you to is casual and pretty, only a few minutes outside of campus. The evening sunlight spills down through the window while Bucky brazenly holds your hands in his over the table – even when the waitress is taking your order! It makes you squirm, but in a pleasant kind of way. And he tells you about himself while you eat, how he knows he’s from a privileged family but always felt different growing up.

He tells you about all the mischief he and Steve got up to when they were kids, and then teens, and now young adults. And you can’t really imagine Steve, all stoic and mean and preppy-looking, getting up to any kind of mischief but you smile and nod anyways, loving how Bucky tells his stories in such an easy-going and charming way.

You’re a bit more guarded when he asks you about your childhood, though. You keep it brief and simple, outright evading certain details because you don’t want to get into it right now. But Bucky seems to understand, squeezing your hands before grabbing a napkin and wiping a spot of sauce on the side of your mouth.

He takes you to a nearby park after that. He buys a small loaf of bread so the two of you can feed the ducks. And he never lets go of your hand, and you can feel him watching you as you focus on the ducks gobbling up the pieces of bread. And then he grabs your chin and gently turns your face to him and he kisses you. And it’s sweet. Sweeter than it is with Peter. And you kiss him back, because you like how light and fluffy and exciting it feels to kiss Bucky.

It feels like you’re on cloud nine.

The dates get more frequent after that. Bucky walks you to class every day, holding your hand and talking to you about anything and everything. Like the latest report your class has been assigned, or his football team winning another game, or any new books you’ve read. You find yourself giggling and opening up a lot more, every shy bone in your body relaxing when you’re talking to him.

The kissing and touching becomes more frequent too. Often, he comes to your dorm room and things get hot and heavy. And oh, it’s so exciting feeling Bucky’s hands on you, and his expert kisses leave you breathless! He really was an incredible kisser, taking control and moving his tongue so lazily and perfectly against yours. But something within you always stops him before he can go any further.

“Bucky, please. I just got out of a relationship and I don’t know if I’m ready for sex.” You tell him truthfully one evening while he’s got you pinned down on your bed in the middle of a particularly passionate make-out session.

Bucky lies back down beside you while you fix the buttons of your cardigan which he’d almost had undone. He reaches down to adjust his boner through his jeans, “Princess, you’re killing me here. I want you so bad.”

You swallow, “I’m sorry, James. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

Light blue eyes smile down at you as the alpha sits up and grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t apologise, princess. I understand.”

“I just feel bad, I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on.” You duck your head, but he grabs your chin and lifts it up again, making you look at him.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think I’ve gone out this long with a girl without sleeping with her.” Bucky confesses, scratching his head with a sheepish look on his face. “I haven’t been a great boyfriend in the past, and my motives have usually been selfish.”

Your eyes grow wide, but you don’t say anything.

“I’m telling you this because I care about you, princess. I think you’re different.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and chucks you under your chin till you smile. “I like talking to you and spending time with you. You’re smart and beautiful and I know we haven’t been together long, but I really see a future for us.” He kisses you sweetly, and you’re too busy trying to tame the butterflies in your stomach to respond properly, but you try your best anyways.

“What I’m saying is, you can take all the time you need till you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll wait as long as I have to till you’re ready to have sex.” Bucky finishes earnestly, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and plant a million kisses on his face. He’s saying all the right things, everything a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend.

“You really mean all that?” You ask him softly.

“Yes, princess, I mean it. You’re my girlfriend, and I’ll wait for you for as long as you need.” Bucky looks earnest and sweet, and you hug him hard. You feel a mix of thrill and nervous energy flutter through you. It’s something you’ve never felt before. But it’s a good feeling, and you welcome it with open arms as Bucky continues to leave tiny kisses all over your face. Till you’re giggling against his lips and hugging him close, feeling lighter than a feather.

***

Being the girlfriend of a popular senior was not something you’d envisioned happening to you at the start of university. But Bucky made it feel so natural, introducing you to all his friends, holding your hand all the time and including you in all his plans. His friends are nice enough: Sam was a bit cold at first but he warmed up after a while. Thor was loud and funny, Ransom acted overly smart and confident but seemed to have a sensitive side too. Curtis was mysterious and Andy was kind of dopey, and they were all friendly with you.

But then there was Steve.

The blonde alpha glowered at you any chance he got. Whenever you were in his presence, you could feel his steely blue eyes boring holes straight through your skin. You always kept out of his way so you were unsure why he seemed to hate you. Bucky just said not to take it personally, that Steve was just going through a rough patch with his girlfriend and he didn’t hate you at all.

One day, you’d gone over to Bucky’s house where he – unfortunately – lived with Steve and Sam too.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve had demanded when he’d opened the door and seen you standing there.

“Uh… James to-told me to meet him here after my morning classes.” You explain, feeling oddly nervous around the big alpha. You’re naturally shy but you’d come out of your shell quite a bit ever since you’d started dating Bucky. But Steve was just so intimidating, standing there in just a pair of grey sweats that are slung low over his hips. You avert your gaze to the ground in a bid not to stare at his bare chest.

Steve regards you suspiciously before stepping aside and letting you in. And you feel his heated gaze still on you as you brush past him to get inside. And that’s when you hear him inhale sharply, a low rumble coming from his chest before he stumbles. You whip around just in time to see him recover, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Are you okay?”

Steve scoffs, “Why the hell wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Uh… You kinda just tripped?” You point out hesitantly, and the blonde alpha’s pale face goes crimson before he clears his throat.

“I did not trip.” He glowers through gritted teeth.

Okay then. You decide not to question his rude and erratic behaviour. “Where is James’ room?”

Steve glances upstairs before leaning against the kitchen counter, his intense gaze locking on you as his frown relaxes into a smirk. “He’s taking a shower right now. You should wait for him down here.”

“Okay.” You sit down at the kitchen table. The house is big, spacious and minimalistic in the way it’s decorated. The kitchen is modern and it’s clear that there’s only boys living here, because you can see a ton of takeout containers and microwave meals strewn across the countertops.  Once you’re done observing your surroundings, you notice Steve still staring at you.

“So, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend now, huh?” He breaks the silence.

“Yes.”

“Strange. I never thought he’d go for someone like you.”

Your brows knit together into a frown as a pang of hurt echoes inside you, “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, and you try not to focus on his broad, muscular shoulders. But it’s not easy to just look at his face either, because he’s so intimidating. He runs a hand through his light hair, “Nothing, omega. Don’t worry your little head over it.

Your jaw drops open, “Don’t call me that, please. I have a name.”

“As if I care.”

God! It was like talking to an eight-year-old. You had no idea that Steve was this immature and rude, and it makes your blood boil. You’re just about to get up and find Bucky’s bedroom yourself when you hear a pattering of light footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Steve, I have to go. But promise you’ll text me tonight?” It’s a girl. You recognise her from college – you’ve definitely seen her around campus somewhere. But she’s definitely not Sharon. She skips up to Steve and plants a kiss on his cheek, and the alpha only responds with a grunt. You get a weird feeling inside you as you watch this exchange, but try your best to shake it off.

The girl stops to shoot you a smile. “Hey, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend, aren’t you? Nice to meet you!”

She leaves before you have a chance to reply, and you’re left staring at the back of her head as she shuts the door behind her, getting an eyeful of her hair which you vaguely notice is the same shade as yours. And it’s only when she’s gone that you realise your mouth is open in shock, and you slowly turn to Steve who looks wholly unbothered.

“Aren’t you going out with Sharon?” You can’t help but blurt out.

Steve raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he continues to just stare at you. You feel hot all over, and you don’t know whether it’s because of his eyes on you or because of the sudden anger you feel at the blatant display of cheating you’ve just witnessed.

“That’s not fair on your girlfriend, Steve.” You whisper.

And all Steve does is stare at you, to the point where you feel waves of heat on your face. And then suddenly you’re hit with this overwhelming scent of burning firewood. A freshly mown lawn with a strong sun beating down on it, and smoky wood on a hot summer’s day. Your eyes widen as the intimidating alpha walks over to you, leaning down at the table where you’re sitting.

“I don’t remember asking for some lowlife omega’s opinion on my private business.” He says softly, but there’s danger and threat embedded in his words and it makes your blood run cold. But your nose can’t stop twitching as it takes in his heady scent, and you feel your mind cloud over and your limbs grow weak like jelly and–

“I’d appreciate it if you’d put a shirt on in front of my girlfriend, Stevie.” Bucky chuckles, elbowing past Steve and making his way over to you. He helps you up and plants a firm kiss to your lips. You’re still rattled by the blonde alpha, though, and distractedly kiss your boyfriend back. You can still feel Steve’s eyes on you, and it’s unnerving to say the least.

“You ready to go, princess?” Bucky tugs at your hand and you nod, allowing him to pull you out of the house. It’s only when the fresh outside air whips against your face that you seem to snap out of whatever trance you’re in. You swallow and shake your head as Bucky leads you to his car, and you only speak once both of you are inside.

“Steve did something awful.” You breathe.

Bucky frowns before squeezing your arm, “What? Did he touch you?”

“N-No, he…” You shake your head, feeling a wave of anger overtake you momentarily, “He had a girl over, James. He was cheating on his girlfriend!”

“Oh.”

The silence is louder than ever as Bucky starts up the car and backs out of the driveway. He puts his arm over the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, and it’s not until he’s on the main road that you huff:

“Is that all you have to say?”

Bucky grimaces, keeping his eyes glued to the road, “Look, Steve isn’t exactly in love with Sharon.”

“But she’s his girlfriend, Bucky. He shouldn’t be cheating on her either way!”

“I know, I know. What can I say?” He pauses, as if mulling over how to say his next words. “Look, princess. Steve’s young, he’s only in college. It’s what us guys do. Why have one piece of the pie when you can have the whole thing, you know? That sort of thing.”

It only takes Bucky about three seconds to realise the error in his words. You turn to stare at him in utter shock and horror. Was this really James? Your James? Who had said all the right things and been so sweet and gentlemanly all these weeks? Who had respected your boundaries and never questioned you or lashed out for wanting to wait?

“Is that why you’re so okay with us not having sex?” You say quietly. “Because you’re getting it from somewhere else?”

“What? No, sweetheart. No, that’s not it at all.”

Bucky turns into a random lane and stops the car before turning to you. You try to bat him off but he grabs both your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing kisses on your fingers and palms before yanking you into an embrace.

“I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing for me to say.” He mumbles into your hair, and you try to find solace in his scent but it’s not strong enough right now. He kisses the top of your head before drawing back to make eye contact. “Princess, I’m not seeing anyone else behind your back, that I can promise you.”

“But how can I believe you? When it was so easy for you to justify what Steve’s doing?” You sniffle.

Bucky sits back in his seat and sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your hands. “Look, it’s no secret that us alphas are all a bunch of assholes. We don’t really hide it, either. Steve’s cheating on his girl because, well, it’s almost normal for a lot of us to do that. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t slept with multiple girls without them knowing about each other in the past.”

You bow your head, not liking this at all. But Bucky grabs your chin gently, lifting it up so you look at him.

“But I’m past all of that now, okay? I really like being in a serious and committed relationship with you, princess. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl, and I would never even think of being with anyone else.” He cups your face and strokes your cheek, and his eyes are so pretty and blue, and you can feel your heart melting already as he gives you a peck. “I guess I just wasn’t surprised by what Steve did because I’m so used to it.”

You nuzzle your face into his palm, “Can’t you tell him that it’s wrong? That you’ve grown out of doing stuff like that, and that he should too?”

Bucky chuckles, pressing your cheeks and nose with more soft kisses, “I could. But Steve is extremely stubborn and bossy, in case you haven’t noticed.” He pauses, smiling fondly at you when you giggle softly in agreement, twining a piece of your hair around his finger. “The way I see it, we should just focus on our relationship, and let Steve do whatever it is he’s doing since it’s got nothing to do with us. It took meeting the right girl for me to recognise the error of my ways. Maybe soon, he’ll find someone that he’ll want to be better for too, right?”

You nod, despite that weird feeling surfacing inside you once more. But you shove it back down and give Bucky a smile as he pulls you in for another long kiss.

“Well, let’s get to that movie, shall we? We’ve probably missed the opening credits and I’m gonna have to cut the line to get us our snacks, but I think we can still make it.”

You spend the rest of the evening at the drive-in movie theatre with Bucky. He reclines his seat and makes you climb over the console to sit in his lap while the two of you watch Gone with the Wind on the big screen with a bag of sweet and salty popcorn and a bar of chocolate to share. Once the snacks finish, you sleepily rest your head on his chest and let him stroke your back through your hoodie. And you almost fall asleep like that, Scarlett O’Hara’s indignant dialogues lulling you into a peaceful slumber until your nostrils are unceremoniously invaded with the scent of burning firewood and a hot summer’s day.

Opening your eyes slowly, you peak out the window to see another car pull up beside Bucky’s. And your heart sinks down to the depths of your chest when you see who’s inside. Steve. And Sharon. She’s talking to him animatedly, but he seems sullen and unresponsive as always. That is, until they start making out, and you have to forcibly look away when Steve’s eyes meet yours and you feel this burning feeling in your chest.

You swallow harshly before cuddling up to Bucky even more.

“James, I’m sleepy,” you say softly.

“Yeah? You wanna go home, princess?”

“Yes, please. If that’s okay?”

“Sure, princess.” He lifts you up and places you back on the passenger seat before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Close your eyes and rest. I’ll tuck you into bed once we get back to your dorm.”

And he does just that, carrying you all the way back into your dorm room and helping you change before putting you to bed. And you can’t describe whatever it is you’re feeling but all you can do is clutch at his shirt when he goes to leave, pulling him into bed with you. And he rains your face with a billion kisses before you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

***

Life at college continues. You’re still in contact with Peter, despite the two of you being so busy. But he sends you updates about his internship and all the cool technology he’s being exposed to. You tell him about your classes and all the interesting things you’re learning. You also, very tentatively, tell him about Bucky. Surprisingly, Peter seems supportive, and the conversation between the two of you grows easy once more.

The romance between you and Bucky seems to blossom with every passing day. He carries your books to class and takes you out on cute dates that make your heart flutter. Picnics, scenic walks, movies, restaurants – he takes you everywhere you’ve ever dreamed of being taken. And how your heart had skipped a beat when you’d seen he’d had a bouquet of yellow roses delivered to your dorm room! There was no note or tag attached, but you knew they were from Bucky. Who else could they be from? And they were the prettiest flowers you’d ever received, and the butterflies in your tummy fluttered at his perfect choice.

It was also in the little things he did, like kiss you on the forehead reassuringly or squeeze your hand when you’re feeling nervous. And slowly, you feel yourself coming out of your shell more and more. You find yourself laughing out loud and voicing your opinions that usually you would’ve kept silent.

Being Bucky’s girlfriend meant hanging out with his group of friends, too. And it thrills you that you’re able to hold conversations with some of them, and have them be genuinely interested in what you have to say and not just write you off as a “dumb omega”.

One day, you find yourself sitting on Bucky’s lap in the campus courtyard between classes, a number of his friends surrounding you. You still feel nervous around this many people (especially intimidating seniors) but with Bucky squeezing your hand reassuringly, you find the task less daunting than you normally would, as you grow to feel more comfortable with them.

Well, most of them.

“…and then I told her to fuck off, because who knows what kind of diseases she was carrying. I mean, she’s fucked half the football team after all.” Steve says cockily, taking a drag from his cigarette while the alphas around him all laugh as if he’s cracked the funniest joke of the century. Even Bucky chuckles before you shoot him a look and he stops, a sheepish look on his face.

“I mean sure, she’s got a great ass, but there’s nothing attractive about a slut who spreads her legs for any man who looks her way.” The blond alpha continues, and it irritates you how all his friends seem to hang on to his every word, looking up to him like he’s some sort of God.

Having been with Bucky long enough, you had somewhat cracked the hierarchy of his friend group. And Steve was definitely the leader, the one they all flocked to and tried to impress. Well, not Bucky – he and Sam were the only ones who would keep Steve in check. But the blonde alpha’s ego was through the roof, as were his misogynistic ideals and derogatory views towards omegas and women in general.

And you hated how shy you were, especially around him. You felt sickened by Steve’s gross statements but you could never say anything against him. A part of you just wanted to be liked and accepted by Bucky’s best friend, but Steve only alternated between glaring at you or pretending you didn’t exist.

“HI, BABY!”

A high-pitched squeal knocks you out of your reverie, and you watch as Sharon jogs up to Steve in her pretty blue cheerleading outfit. Together, they look like the perfect couple. Head cheerleader and the captain of the football team. Perfect. You feel that weird feeling bubbling up inside you again but do your best to keep it at bay.

Steve rolls his eyes before Sharon launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her lips on his. Steve, however, remains stoic.

“Gosh, baby, could you please put that cigarette out?” Sharon says, pushing a wayward lock of Steve’s blonde hair off his forehead.

“No.”

She giggles, shaking her head before turning to you. “Men, huh? Stubborn as ever. I’ve asked him to stop smoking about a bajillion times, but he never listens.”

You smile and nod, feeling stupid and awkward as ever because Sharon is pretty and popular and you don’t know how to act.

“I like your pin.” Sharon points at the World Politics Society pin on your bookbag, “I couldn’t even dream of getting into that class. You must be really smart.”

Steve snorts but everyone ignores him.

“Thank you, I find the subject really interesting,” you reply.

You watch Sharon as she talks to everyone in the group. She’s kind, confident and beautiful – everything you wish you were. But that weird, indescribable feeling keeps surfacing inside you every time she locks hands with Steve, or brushes his hair back, or smooths the wrinkles on his sweater.

“And Mister Barnes, how come I’ve never met your girlfriend before now? When she’s practically my sister-in-law?” Sharon hits Bucky lightly on the arm before shooting you another bright smile. “We should organise a double-date. Me and Steve and you both. That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

Steve scoffs but everyone ignores him.

“Epically fun, Miss Carter.” Bucky gives her a charming smile before tugging you close to his chest. “We could go bowling or something. If His Highness is up for it.”

Steve takes another drag of his cigarette, saying nothing. In fact, he’s barely said a word since his girlfriend joined the conversation, and you find that to be weirdly peculiar. Why was he even with her if all he did was cheat on her and ignore her every time she spoke?

“Looking forward to it!” Sharon smiles before checking her phone, “Okay, I gotta go now or else I’ll be late for practice. I’ll see you tonight, baby?” She gives Steve a peck on the lips, which he also doesn’t return.

“Sure.” Steve answers, finally seeming to snap out of it as his hand meanders down to squeeze her ass. You feel your own hand clench into a fist but you quickly relax it and hope no one saw. What the heck was that? Why had you reacted that way?

“What a fuckin’ bitch.” Steve resumes once Sharon is out of earshot. “As I was saying, I told this other whore who was all over me the other day that I just wasn’t interested in sluts like her, and she said–”

“Could you stop being such a misogynistic jerk?!”

You can’t believe the words have left your mouth, and your hands start shaking immediately once you realise they have. Never before have you raised your voice at someone like this, let alone a formidable alpha who’s about twice your size.

Steve’s cold blue eyes rest their steely gaze on you, when up until this point he’d been content on pretending you weren’t there. You dare peak up at him and see his jaw tick, and a vein protrude from the side of his forehead.

“What did you just say to me?” He asks softly.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Bucky says warningly, but you sit up straight.

“I’m… I’m sorry, but I just don’t like how you talk about women.” You say, hating how your voice shakes and how you can’t look Steve in the eye.

“And I don’t like the tone you’re taking with me right now.” Steve’s intense gaze bores holes straight through you before he looks at Bucky, “Haven’t you taught her not to speak to her superiors like that?”

Your jaw drops open in pure shock, “H-How dare you–”

“Okay, let’s go.” Bucky hoists you to your feet while your whole body seems to shake with shock, anger, and a tiny bit of fear. The brunet alpha holds you tightly by the arm before evenly glancing back at his best friend. “Steve, don’t speak to my girl like that. In fact, if you’re going to be rude, then don’t speak to her at all.”

You and Bucky don’t stick around to hear Steve’s retort, and it’s only when you round a corner and are hidden from the rest of the group by a brick wall, that you burst into tears.

“He’s – so – awful!” You cry, your heart pitter-pattering in a mix of fear and hurt. You hated being spoken to like that, like you were beneath him. Bucky holds you close and you sob into his chest, hugging him as hard as you can. His solidness and wintery scent is a source of comfort to you, and so is his hand which rubs your back soothingly.

“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, princess. I’ll make sure to speak to him about it later.” Bucky promises you, pressing soft kisses to your hairline while you cry, leaving splotchy tear-stains on his shirt.

“Why is he even with Sharon when he doesn’t seem happy with her at all?!” You burst out, desperately wiping at your teary eyes except it doesn’t stop you from crying even more. “He’s just…I just… Oh, I hate him, James! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. I’ll talk to him, don’t you worry.”

Looking into his earnest eyes, you can tell Bucky’s intentions are good. And you don’t know if he talks to Steve or not, but you do receive another delivery of yellow roses to your dorm room that very night. This time, there’s a note attached too. “I’m sorry” is all it says, and you can’t help but smile as you hold the roses up to your nose and take in their delicate scent. Bucky was obviously feeling bad about the whole situation – and it wasn’t even his fault!

But clearly, your boyfriend knows you well, because the flowers do lift your mood up a little bit. You place the second bouquet of yellow roses caringly next to the first one. They look expensive and beautiful, and have your entire room smelling heavenly and sweet. It makes you smile and clasp your hands together, and you’re just about to call Bucky when you hear a rustling from outside your window, followed by a series of heavy footsteps.

Strange. Who would be out at this time? And in the bushes outside your dorm room, no less? You decide you’ve probably imagined it, but you close your window and draw your curtains anyways before calling Bucky.

“You’re the best, you know that?” You tell him, a huge smile plastered on your face as you take one last whiff of the roses before flopping down on your bed on top of all your pillows and stuffies.

“I do know that, sweetheart, but it’s nice to hear you say it.” Bucky laughs from the other end of the phone. “It’s also nice to hear you sound so happy.”

You grab your stuffed rabbit and tug his ears mindlessly, “Yeah, I know I acted like a huge cry-baby earlier today.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it, princess? Anyways, I spoke to Steve.”

Your heart skips a beat, “You did?”

“Yes. Look, he’s set in his traditional ways and he’s stubborn as hell. But he did look like he regretted speaking to you that way, and I don’t think he’ll do it again.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “Well, that’s all I want. Thank you for speaking to him, James.” There’s a pause, and then you pipe up hesitantly: “And what about Sharon? Is he still going to stay with her?”

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t he?”

BECAUSE SHE’S NOT RIGHT FOR HIM! The omega inside you screeches, and the sheer vitriol you feel makes you sit up straight, eyes wide and hands shaking. What the heck? Where had that outburst even come from?

“Hello? Princess? You still with me?”

You clear your throat and physically shake your head to rid yourself of that weird feeling that seems to be bubbling inside you so often now. But never before had it manifested into your inner thoughts screaming at you like how they just had. You feel hot all over, and quickly place your palm on your forehead to check if you have a fever before remembering Bucky is still on the phone.

“I’m here. Sorry, I just…” What can you even say to him? Without sounding crazy? You take a deep breath. “Thank you for talking to him, James. I’m just glad he won’t be mean anymore. Everything else isn’t really any of my business.”

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart.”

***

True to Bucky’s word, slowly but surely, Steve becomes a lot more bearable to be around. He’s still awful in his misogyny but at least he no longer glares at you or makes you feel unwelcome and uncomfortable when you’re with Bucky and his friends. You still catch him staring at you sometimes, but you must be imagining it because you know he hates you. You try not to care though, and only focus on Bucky.

“I want you to meet my parents, princess.” Bucky says to you one day. The two of you are in your dorm room where you’d just completed an intense study session. Well, you’d been studying while Bucky grew distracted after about ten seconds of staring at his textbook, and proceeded to kiss and touch you while you laughed and batted him off. “And I would like to meet your parents too.”

The smile drops from your face almost instantaneously, and you nervously grab your stuffed rabbit and pull its ears. “Oh, I… Uh…”

“I mean, we’ve been seriously dating for a while now, haven’t we? It’s only right that I get to meet the parents of the girl who captured my heart.”

You smile uneasily, heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest. “What are your parents like?” You blurt out, trying to deflect.

Bucky lies back on your bed, “They’re great. My dad’s a lawyer so he’s always working. My mom is usually at home, though. She makes a great apple pie and she’s also great for when I need advice.”

You smile softly, “She must really love you.”

He blinks. “Of course, she does. All parents love their children.”

He goes on to tell you about how his dad used to take him golfing at the country club when he was younger, and how much he hated it. But he’d always get treated to ice cream afterwards, which was why he agreed to go every time. He tells you about how his mother values family over everything, which was why he went home every other Friday to have dinner with his family, and how he’d love for you to join him on one of those dinners soon.

You nod and agree, but you feel like crying on the inside. There’s a sense of yearning inside you that you can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard you cuddle into Bucky or how much he kisses you.

His hands slowly slip down to your hips, squeezing gently before meandering up under your hoodie. His touch is tentative yet confident, and usually it excites you. But you always stop him before he goes too far, hoping and praying he doesn’t get mad at you. Which he never does. Instead, the two of you lazily make out on your bed until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. And then the nightmares commence, but when you wake up, you can’t remember them at all.

***

“Ooh, look at the pink bowling balls! And the powder blue ones. Aren’t they cute, Steve?” Sharon clutches Steve’s muscular bicep, her perfectly manicured nails scraping lightly against his pale skin. Steve only grunts in response before shaking her off as him and Bucky go up to the counter to pay for one session of bowling for all of you.

Through Sharon’s pure will and determination, the four of you find yourselves on a double date at the bowling alley. She seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that Steve hated you, or that you didn’t particularly like Steve either, and had practically begged Bucky to organise the date. Bucky had said you didn’t have to do it, but what harm could one night of bowling actually do? Especially since Steve hadn’t really been mean to you for a while now.

“Do I seriously have to wear these ugly bowling shoes?” Sharon complains, gingerly holding up the dirty shoes and making a face.

“Don’t wear them. Let’s see what happens.” Steve pipes up.

Bucky laughs, “Unless you want a broken toe, you better put them on.”

It’s Steve and Sharon against you and Bucky. You’ve bowled a few times, so you’re not embarrassingly bad or anything. Bucky is fairly good too. Surprisingly, Sharon turns out to be extremely skilled at bowling, getting a strike on her first try.

And then there’s Steve.

“Another gutter ball, Rogers!” Bucky doubles over in glee, practically in tears. You try to hide your amused smile and even Sharon can’t help but laugh.

“Shut up!” Steve seethes, looking redder than a tomato as he jams his hands in his pockets and walks back to the bench you’re all sitting on. He casts a quick glance in your direction, his nose twitching. “There’s too many distractions here.”

“What distractions, bro? You’re just a bad player.” Bucky mocks, jabbing his elbow into his friend’s ribs and laughing even harder when the blond gives him an absolutely murderous look.

Bucky gets up and stretches, “I think I need a beer. You want one, Steve?”

Steve flips him off.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You girls want anything?”

“Maybe a strawberry milkshake? Or iced tea sounds good. And I think we should also get some food for Steve before he implodes. Maybe nachos? Or curly fries. I’ll go with you, since that’s a lot to remember.” Sharon gets up.

Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, “Think you can hold down fort and keep us in the lead until I get back, princess?” He whispers.

You giggle, “I think so. I just need to get a minimum of one pin.”

They leave, and you get up to do your turn. Making your way over to the contraption where they keep all the bowling balls, you can feel Steve’s eyes on you. God, without Bucky and Sharon here, you felt all shy and nervous. Not to mention his scent, which was so overpowering as it settled into your nostrils. Just ignore him, you think to yourself before absentmindedly selecting a bowling ball.

You’ve taken one step towards the bowling lane when the ball slips from your sweaty palms. It’s a lot heavier than you anticipated, and you can’t take the weight as you watch it fall down almost in slow motion. There’s a flurry of movement, Steve moving quick as lightning and batting the ball sideways before it completely crushes your foot. It ends up bouncing on the tip of your toe with a loud thud before rolling away under the table.

“What the fuck inspired you to choose the heaviest ball available? You could have really hurt yourself!” Steve shakes you angrily by the shoulder as you remain frozen in place, still registering what just happened.

“I…I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You stammer before suddenly becoming aware of your toe throbbing from where the bowling ball had fallen. Most of its weight had been absorbed by your shoe, but your toe still hurts. And you hate being such a baby, but your lower lip can’t help but quiver, and you feel your eyes well up with tears.

You don’t really register it as Steve’s fingers encircle around your wrist, and he tugs you back to the bench, forcing you down before crouching in front of you.

“Did you hurt yourself? See, this is why little omegas like you shouldn’t be carrying heavy things. I told Bucky bowling was a bad idea.” At the mention of his best friend’s name, Steve instinctively whips his head towards the snack counter, and you do too. Bucky and Sharon are still in line, and with their backs turned and so many people around, you doubt they can see you.

You sniffle, “I didn’t think it would be that heavy.��

“Of course, you didn’t. You’re just a baby omega, and sometimes you don’t think about things like that. Here, let me see.” Before you realise what’s happening, he grabs your ankle with one big, warm hand; and uses the other to unstrap your shoe. You gape at him, the scent of smoky firewood and a freshly mown lawn making you swallow harshly and freeze in place, letting him slip your shoe off.

But it only a takes handful of seconds for you to come back to your senses, and you shake your head and cringe backwards.

“Uh, th-that’s okay, Steve. It stopped hurting now, I think I’ll be fine.”

But his grip on your ankle doesn’t loosen, your shoe falling to the ground and his blue eyes zeroing in on your foot which is covered by just your lacy white ankle sock. The air feels thick around you both, and you feel your breathing start to get laboured as you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

Slowly, tentatively almost, he strokes your foot with his other hand. And a part of you is so acutely aware of how weird this is. You boyfriend’s best friend tending to your injury in the middle of a crowded bowling alley – while Bucky and Sharon were in the same vicinity!

“You’ll be alright.” Steve says gently (the gentlest you’ve ever heard him speak), as he continues to stroke your throbbing toe, “You just need to be more careful, okay?”

You find yourself nodding, your entire body buzzing with some sort of strange energy that you’ve never felt before. “I guess I just got distracted.”

Steve’s hand remains rubbing your toe, but his eyes look up to meet yours. And you almost forget how to breathe, feeling like there’s a bubble encasing the two of you, and everyone else is far, far away. All you can feel is his burning gaze and his hand touching you.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, I’ve been distracted all night too.” And you can’t help but notice how long and dark his lashes are, how they contrast so deeply from his pale hair and skin, how they fan against his cheekbones as he blinks up at you almost earnestly. “Maybe I should drive you home.”

That knocks you out of whatever reverie he’s pulled you into. Drive you home? While his girlfriend and your boyfriend stayed here? Was he insane?

You forcibly tug your foot out of his grasp, quickly putting your shoe back on before he can grab it again. And Steve stays in his crouched position in front of you, almost as if frozen in place. He’s staring at his hand, the one that was holding your ankle, before he looks up at you. There’s a fiery look in his eyes, one you can’t fully explain. You also can’t fully explain why your heart is beating like mad, and there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“I’m fine, Steve. Really. Thank you for uh… Just… Thanks.” You mumble.

Steve blinks, opening his mouth to speak before he shuts it again when he looks beyond your shoulder. He coughs, standing up to his full height and moving away from you suddenly. And you watch him whip his phone out, pretend he’s texting someone, and all the while your heart just won’t calm down. And then you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“We’ve got snacks!” Sharon announces, skipping over to Steve and handing him a bunch of things, “Here you go, babe. These cheesy fries are literally to die for. Me and Bucky picked at them on the way back here. Oh, and here’s your beer.”

You watch as Sharon simpers at her boyfriend, grabbing his hand and leading him to a nearby bench. Feeding him fries while he bats her hand away, instead grabbing his beer and taking a long swig. His face is still red, and his eyes are still bright, and–

“You okay, princess?” Bucky sits down beside you and puts his arm around you, giving you a tight squeeze. “You look troubled.”

You force a smile, “I’m fine, James.”

“Did Steve say something to you? Do you need me to talk to him again?”

Rapidly, you shake your head. Subconsciously, you’ve already made the decision not to tell Bucky about the weirdness that has just transpired. And the guilt is already eating you up from the inside out, despite the fact you hadn’t done anything. Or hadn’t you? Why had you not pulled away sooner? And why was Steve acting this way? Why was he so gentle, so tender? When every other instance between the two of you has been either him ignoring you, or being rude towards you?

Suddenly, your head hurts.

Bucky seems to understand that something is off with you, because he tells Sharon and Steve that he’s tired and wants to cut the night short. You hug Sharon goodbye, feeling like you want the ground to eat you up whole, before your boyfriend leads you out of the bowling alley.

“Princess, please tell me what’s bothering you.” He says moments later when the two of you are in his car.

You force a smile, “Nothing!”

His light blue eyes, so piercing in the darkness of the car, stare at you as if they can see right through you. But all he does is draw you in for a hug, and you feel your body sag into his. Bucky feels so cosy and safe, so dependable and good. All your worries and concerns dissipate for a moment as you hug him back almost fiercely.

“Well, why don’t we go get some ice cream?” He asks kindly.

You bury your face in his chest, not quite done hugging him yet. Maybe you were just overthinking whatever had happened back there with Steve. Maybe the blond alpha was just trying to turn a new leaf and be kind for once. Maybe his actions had been innocuous after all. You sniffle before looking up at your boyfriend and pressing a long kiss to his lips.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Bucky gets a double mint chocolate chip cone and you get a vanilla strawberry swirl. He licks the ice cream that you accidentally smear on the side of your mouth as you dig in, and then you both kiss some more. Sweet kisses and sweet touches laced with giggles. And then he takes you on a drive, and you roll the windows down and let the breeze hit your face as if you’re the main character in an indie film, allowing the cool night air to wash away any remnants of guilt. Bucky’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other one holding steadily onto yours, squeezing every few seconds and shooting you lovesick smiles that you return.

He parks outside of your dorm building and pulls you over the console and into his lap. And you let him kiss you and touch you and try to lose yourself in it. Try not to think of a hot summer’s day and freshly mown grass. You don’t even stop him when he pushes his hand down your leggings and past your panties, and you gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers brush against your hot core.

“Are you sure about this, princess?” Bucky breathes against your lips, and you want to cry at how sweet he is. How patient and kind. You don’t deserve him at all. You nod your head to indicate that yes, you are sure. You kiss him doubly hard, trying to drown out the feel of wanting to cry. Because actually no, you’re not sure about this. You don’t know if you’re ready. But you feel so bad, so bad for what happened with Steve.

You didn’t even do anything! The rational part of your brain screams. So then why did it feel like you had?

Bucky moves his fingers expertly inside you, his thumb rubbing your bundle of nerves in a way that does make you momentarily forget about anything else except for his touch. You mewl his name, clutching the fabric of his shirt and rutting against him. His large hands rub up and down your back, his lips warm against your ear as he coaxes you, “That’s right, princess. Let go for me, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

You come hard, body shaking and spasming on top of him as he holds you close to his chest. Praises you for being so good for him, for being so beautiful and perfect. And it’s crazy, because you feel anything but those things right now. But you sob out his name softly, and let him stroke your hair back as he continues to talk you through your orgasm, “That’s it, princess. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl. Thank you for letting me in, sweetheart. Thank you for being so perfect.”

He lets you recover, all the while kissing you. And then he walks you to your room and bids you goodnight. He tells you he’d have stayed the night, but he has to drive home to pick up an important document for his father. You manage a weak smile, and return his kisses before waving goodbye.

And then you shut the door and burst into tears.

And you don’t even know why, because nothing had happened between you and Steve! Nothing at all. But you cry for all the confusion within you, the unresolved feelings of guilt that you can’t understand for the life of you, and how you can’t seem to shake this yearning sadness inside you. Oh, why did Steve have to be so different tonight? Why had his eyes reflected such tenderness? Why had he held your ankle like that? Why hadn’t he let go?

Why did you care so much?

You take a long shower and change into clean, comfortable clothes before trying to distract yourself with Netflix. And that’s when you hear a knock on your door.

It’s another bouquet of yellow roses. You smile at the delivery man – you recognise his face at this point, since he’s been to your dorm room three times now. You marvel at Bucky’s quickness, because he’d only dropped you home about an hour ago. He must have paid for express delivery or something. And this time, the bouquet is accompanied by not only a note, but also a small package.

I really enjoyed our date tonight, baby.

You smile softly at the short but sweet message, before your eyes shift to the package. It’s brown and unsuspecting, with a yellow ribbon holding it together. You gently rip it open.

Coal black eyes stare up at you. A furry little face. Tan coloured fur and a light blue bow-tie. It’s a teddy bear! You can’t help but crack a smile, heart feeling lighter than it has all day. Oh, it was so cute! Like a furry little baby. You hug it close to your chest, the butterflies fluttering happily around in your tummy. You don’t receive gifts too often, and this was a total surprise. And definitely one that was helping lift your lousy mood.

You fall asleep with the teddy in your arms, and no nightmares come. Instead, you dream of warm sunlight splashing down on your skin, and green grass so fresh you can almost smell it. And the silhouette of a shadowy figure who holds you close and promises to keep you safe. And the yearning feel goes away. And you feel content.

***

“Okay, do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

“Uh oh.” You bite your lip, immediately assuming the worst as your hand freezes in the middle of tossing a folded shirt into your overnight bag. Today was the day you and Bucky were driving down to Bucky’s family house, where you were finally going to meet his parents and stay for the weekend. “They don’t like me, do they?”

Bucky snickers over the phone, “Wrong, sweetheart. My parents love you. Well, they love the pictures of you that I showed them from my phone. That’s the good news, actually. They seem genuinely excited to meet you. My mom’s planning a whole five course dinner.”

You resume packing, putting in your pyjama bottoms, an extra hoodie, your plastic bag of toiletries, as well as your new favourite stuffed teddy bear. You force out a chuckle, hoping he can’t detect your anxiety and nervousness over the phone, “That’s good. I really hope I don’t let them down.”

“Let them down? How?”

You chew on your lip and whisper, “By not being good enough…”

“Princess, you’re the prettiest, kindest, sweetest and smartest girl I’ve ever dated. I don’t want you putting yourself down like that, okay?”

“O-Okay.” He was right – it wasn’t healthy to keep thinking of yourself in such a negative light. And it wasn’t like you enjoyed feeling sorry for yourself or drowning in self-pity, you just sometimes let the doubts you had about yourself creep in and take over your mind. Despite the fact that since day one, Bucky had been reassuring you about how perfect you were.

But would a perfect girlfriend be feeling as guilty as you were?

“What’s the bad news?” You ask, trying to push your thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the conversation with your boyfriend.

Bucky sighs, “So, I had to actually stop by my dad’s office to sort out some paperwork. He only trusts me to do it, and since I’ll be working at his firm once I graduate, I figured it would be a good chance for me to show him that I’m actually competent with stuff like that.”

You nod, “That makes sense.”

“But that means I’ll be tied up all morning, so I won’t be able to drive you back to my house in Brooklyn.”

“Oh.” You let the words sink in. “That’s alright, James. I can just take the train.”

“Uh, I don’t think so, princess. But listen, Steve is going home for the weekend too, and his parents are practically neighbours with mine. He offered to give you a lift.”

You feel your whole body begin to shake as soon as his name is mentioned. It’s been a few days since the double date, and since what you’ve dubbed in your head as “the ankle incident.” Even now, your heart flutters at the memory, and you can still feel his warm fingers brushing over your foot as he’d held it in his hands and stroked you so softly. And when you close your eyes, you can see that earnest look on his face, and–

“Bucky, I really don’t mind taking the train.”

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t mind. But I mind, I don’t want my girl taking the train when you could easily just drive there.” There’s a pause as Bucky inhales deeply, “Look, I know you and Steve aren’t exactly the best of friends. But I really think he’s trying to turn a new leaf and be a nicer person. I mean, he actually volunteered to drive you, which is progress. And if I’m being honest, it would really give me peace of mind if I knew you were in the car with one of my friends instead of alone on a crowded, dingy train.”

“James, I really don’t think–”

“Please, sweetheart? For me?”

You exhale slowly, clasping your hands together to stop them from shaking. If Bucky had so much faith in Steve, then maybe it was you who was overthinking everything. Maybe Steve genuinely was turning a new leaf, and who were you to deny someone when they were doing you a favour? The drive down to Brooklyn would be long, but not too long. And Steve hadn’t been mean to you for many weeks now, so maybe it would all be okay?

“Okay, Bucky. If that’s what you want.” You agree softly.

“Great! Steve told me to tell you that he’ll pick you up at 3.”

***

Steve arrives outside your dorm at 2:55pm. Actually, you see his car pull up at around 2:45, and then you watch him park it and sit there drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. And then he gets out of the car and paces around for a while before finally making his way over to your door and knocking on it rather loudly. You give him a quiet hello and he gives you a grunt in return, the exchange giving you a sick feeling in your tummy – would it be this quiet and awkward for the whole journey? Before you can worry some more, Steve takes your overnight bag from your hands and leads you to his car.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He orders you the moment you sit down in the passenger seat.

“I was just about to.” You respond, a tad defensive because he hadn’t even given you a chance to breathe before he’d started ordering you around.

“Just do it.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t start the car until your seatbelt is firmly in place, and then you sit there twiddling your thumbs in silence because Steve doesn’t even have the radio on. You wonder if you should start a conversation, but you feel too shy. Which is crazy, since you’d really been starting to come out of your shell these past few months. But not with Steve. He was way too intimidating and scary and just… intense.

“How’s your toe?” He asks you gruffly out of the blue about ten minutes into the journey.

“It’s all good, thank you for asking.” Your response is cordial, and you wonder if you sound bitchy or clipped. It certainly isn’t your intention, but you’ve definitely got your guard up and you don’t really know how to speak to him.

Steve sighs, and there’s another fifteen minutes of silence before he pulls into a traffic jam, and that’s when he turns to face you.

“I broke up with Sharon.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your heart skip a beat, “Oh…uh…Oh.”

He nods, “Yeah. I took your advice.”

That makes you snap out of whatever momentary shock his sudden revelation had put you in. “My advice? Wh-What do you mean?”

The car starts moving again, and Steve takes his time to reply, and you wonder whether he can hear your heart pitter-pattering loudly in your chest as you anticipate his response.

“I’ve heard you, you know. All those times you complained to Bucky, asking him why I was with Sharon if I clearly didn’t care about her. And you were right, so I took your advice and I dumped her.”

You clear your throat, nervously tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I didn’t mean… Well… She deserves better, Steve.” You inhale deeply and turn to look out the window – either out of awkwardness or because you can’t seem to meet his gaze. But he’s got a weird pull about him, practically reeling you back in and you can’t help but look back at him once he starts speaking again.

“I told her I wasn’t interested in her anymore. That I was in love with somebody else.” Steve takes a turn off the highway, and you sit there frozen in shock as he takes quick left and right turns, eventually driving into a small, deserted street, where he parks the car. You swallow, but there’s a huge lump in your throat that you can’t seem to get rid of.

“Wh-Why are we stopping here, Steve?”

“I like how my name sounds when you say it.” His hand creeps over the console in a bid to grab yours, and you quickly move back. Your back slams against the door as you cringe away from him, eyes wide and heart racing.

“Wh-What are you doing? Stop!”

Steve scoffs, “Please. Don’t play dumb, I know you like me too. And the sooner you stop denying it, the easier all of this will be for you.”

You can hardly believe what you’re hearing, it’s almost like your own ears are playing tricks on you. As if you’re Alice falling down some weird rabbit hole into a dimension where nothing makes sense. Was this a joke? Was he pulling some sort of prank? But he’s got that same earnest, honest look in his eyes, the look he’d had at the bowling alley. But you swallow and shake your head rapidly.

“Steve, no, I’m with James. He’s my boyfriend, I don’t like you like that –”

“DON’T LIE!” Steve bursts out, and the sudden explosion of anger makes you jump out of your seat, and the panic that ensues in your heart has you grabbing the door handle in a desperate bid to get out of the car and away from him. But of course, the door remains locked, and now you can really feel the cold terror and dread as it overtakes your body.

Steve exhales slowly, running a hand through his blonde hair, “Don’t. Lie.” He repeats, reaching over to forcibly grab your wrist. And his touch alone sense goosebumps up and down your arm. “I knew we had a connection from the moment I saw you. And then at the bowling alley on our date, I knew you felt it too.”

“Y-You mean our double date,” you say slowly, incredulity dripping from your tone, “where you were with your girlfriend and I was with my boyfriend.”

Steve shakes his head, his grip on your wrist tightening, “You were the only one I could focus on that night.” And then, as you watch in horror, he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it as his eyes flutter shut, almost like he’s savouring kissing your skin for the first time. And you feel every cell in your body, from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes, flutter as he does it. He locks eyes with you, “And I saw how you reacted that night when you opened my gift, that’s how I knew you liked me too.”

His gift? The terror in your veins seems to triple in less than a second, and you feel like you might throw up. You think back to all those bouquets of yellow roses with no name on the notes that accompanied them. And your favourite stuffed teddy with the coal black eyes and blue bow tie. No. No, it couldn’t be. And he’d watched you open them? How?

“N-No, those were from James!” You bat at him, trying to get him to let go of your hand. You suddenly can’t breathe, can’t think. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. “Those flowers were from James!”

“Sure.” Steve snorts, “Is that why you never even mentioned them to him? You knew deep down they weren’t from him, omega. You knew.”

“No, no, no–”

“And how could they be from him? He doesn’t understand you. Not like I do.” He tries to cup your cheek with his warm hand but you dodge him, shaken down to your very core by all the revelations hurtling towards you at top speed. Steve narrows his eyes at you for a second, before grabbing your hand again. “You think he doesn’t tell me everything, omega? You think I don’t know that you haven’t even let him fuck you yet?”

You feel you’ve just been doused with a bucket of ice-cold water, and all you can do is gape helplessly at Steve, any words you may have had on the tip of your tongue now firmly lodged in the back of your throat.

Steve smirks, “That’s right. He told me you haven’t let him fuck you, and it’s been what, three months since you guys started going out?”

“I wanted to wait till I was ready.” You whisper.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Steve laughs bitterly, “But you and I both know the truth, which is that you’ll never be ready. Not for him. Because you don’t want him to fuck you, you don’t want that intimacy with him.” He yanks you closer with the hold he has on your wrist, till your foreheads are almost touching and you’re frozen in place by not only your fear but something else too. Something warm and inviting.

“If you were my girlfriend, you’d already be three months pregnant.”

Your jaw drops open, only a tiny squeak making its way out past your lips. It’s as if he’s stolen all the air from your lungs, and all the thoughts from your brain. You feel hot all over, but also numb. You feel nothing yet everything all at once, and you can’t believe what he’s saying.

“But that’s okay, we still have plenty of time for that.” Steve nods determinedly, his eyes clouding over with an almost wistful, faraway look. “Baby, I have a plan for us. I’m graduating soon, and I want you by my side as the mother of my children. You’re perfect for me, and I’ll give you the family you crave.”

It’s like he’s lit a candle inside you. A tiny, almost minuscule candle of hope fuelled by the picture his words paint, but it flames fiercely nevertheless. Until you forcibly snuff it out and shake your head once more, and deliver more futile pushes to get him to let you go.

“Y-You’re crazy! I don’t want that, Steve! I don’t want any of that!”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes. You do.” Steve sneers, twisting your arm when you grow more desperate, your movements ceasing as you stare up at him helplessly. But his face remains stoic, and a wild piece of blonde hair flops down over his forehead. “I told you; Bucky tells me everything. How you never really fully open up to him, how you get closed off and distant and sad sometimes and he can’t figure out why because you never tell him.”

“Th-That’s between me and him–”

“Don’t you get it?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you as if he’s had an epiphany and wants you to have it too. “I’m the one who knows you, omega. Not him.” His hand reaches up to cup the wide of your face again, and this time he succeeds because you’re frozen in place. His voice softens, “I know you feel like your mother doesn’t care about you. I know you feel lonely despite being in a relationship with Bucky. I know you felt like this even in your previous relationship before Bucky. And I know you don’t have a dad, and I know it hurts–”

“No, no, no, no!” The tears are welling up in your eyes now, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Like you’re hyperventilating and there’s no escape and you can’t run away because this stupid car is locked and you’re in the middle of nowhere and you’ve never told anyone about your dad! You never talk about that with anyone. You don’t even think about it! How did he know?!

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Steve rubs his wrists over your face, and the tranquil effect of a hot midsummer afternoon warms you from the inside out. You feel your heartbeat go back to normal, and you’re able to breathe again. You look up to see Steve’s face inches away from yours, and all you can feel are the pads of his thumbs slowly stroking your cheekbones, and for the life of you, you can’t explain why you just let him do it.

“Do you ever get that yearning feeling, baby?” He asks you softly, so softly that you almost don’t hear it. His blue eyes sparkle with determination and earnesty, and he holds your face so carefully in his hands. “Tell me, do you ever get that feeling? Of wanting something so bad but you can’t seem to figure out what it is?”

“Yes.” You whisper hushedly, dropping your head in shame. Your heart throbs with the same guilt that you’ve been feeling for days now. Horrific, unforgiving guilt that washes through your body in taunting waves.

Steve kisses you then. And it feels like everything around you seems to stand still. Every particle, every atom, every hair, every speck of dust freezes in place. You close your eyes, and it’s like the sun itself descends down to the earth, making everything bask in its addicting glow. Fireworks and explosions behind your eyes and all around you, his warmth enveloping you like a hug. An embrace of delicious heat that feels like you’re home. Really home, and it’s something you’ve never felt before.

And then you start crying.

“I can’t do this to him.” You pull away, and the panic you feel is almost immediate. “Steve, I… We can’t do this to Bucky. He’s so good to me, he doesn’t deserve this! We can’t, we can’t–”

“He’ll understand.” Steve says firmly, keeping a tight hold on you. “It’ll be hard for him, but once he sees that we’re in love, he’ll understand. And it’s good for him too, because this way he can find a mate who is better suited for him.”

Through the haze of Steve’s smoky firewood and hot summer day scent, you think back to Bucky and his crinkled smile. How he’d been the first one to speak to you on your first day, how he’d walked you to the library and how at ease you’d felt with him. How his lopsided smile, sparkling eyes and effortless charm had reeled you in. All the nights spent cuddling or watching TV or just talking and talking and talking. How respectful he’d been of your boundaries; how sweet and patient and intuitive he’d been any time you felt uncomfortable or upset.

How he’d complimented you every chance he got, building up your self-esteem through his love and adoration. How his easy-going nature made you feel so comfortable… But yet not comfortable enough to let him in. And that’s when the guilt seems to attack every cell of your body, killing you from the inside out. Why? Why couldn’t you just let Bucky in? Why couldn’t you just love him? Why, why, why?

Why did it have to turn out this way?

“No.” You shake your head, trying to shake away the thick haze of Steve’s scent which seems to be corrupting your every sense. And when you next speak, your voice is firmer, and you wipe the tears from your face, and you sit up straight, and you shrug his hands off of you. “No, Steve. We can’t do this. I need to get out, I need to–”

Steve’s eyes narrow once more, “Omega, listen to me–”

“Let me out of this car! Just let me out, okay! I’m not doing this to him! You’re wrong, Steve! You’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I don’t like you like that!” You rattle the door handle desperately, but of course it doesn’t budge. “Let me out, Steve! I can’t think in here, I need to get out! I need to speak to Bucky, I need to… I need to…”

You feel yourself going lax in his arms, your limbs turning to jelly as he places his hand on your mating gland, fingers pressing down. It sends thrills and shivers up and down your body as he draws you back to him, closer and closer till he’s embracing you.

“I’m your alpha.” Steve whispers in your ear, and the possessiveness in his tone rocks you to your very core. “You’re my omega, all mine. It’s like you were made for me. And that’s all that matters.”

You’re about to protest once more, and then you feel his teeth graze against your mating gland. It feels peculiar, thrilling, dangerous all at the same time. But the threat of his action doesn’t register immediately, and it takes you a second too long to realise, and then–

“No, Steve, don’t! Don’t!”

A blood-curdling scream leaves your mouth. Steve’s teeth are sharp and unforgiving as they clamp down on your mating gland. And his bite if so painful, like he’s chipping and tearing away at any traces of autonomy left in your body. The sensitive skin of your neck breaks and tears along with the last remnants of your independence.

Everything stills around you. Everything but Steve. He’s all you can feel now. His heartbeat, loud and wild. Or is that your heartbeat? Everything feels different, nothing is the same. It’s all Steve. All of your senses are Steve. All of your feelings are Steve.

“I’m never gonna let you go.” Steve whispers against the fresh wound on your neck, licking at his handiwork which will soon turn into a mark that brands you as his forever.

His presence around you is infinite. The intense heat of his aura mixed with his addictive scent, hitting you from all angles like a tidal wave.

And, like a bittersweet film coming to an end, it washes away the memory of Bucky before you even have the chance to say goodbye.

SDKGKSLAG OKAY.

So.... did I just present y’all with a Steve x omega fic disguised as Bucky fic?? Despite hyping the Bucky fic for MONTHS? Well... *dodges tomatoes* Yes. Yes I did. I’M SORRY BUCKY GIRLIES. STOMEGA FOREVER. This was the plan from the start, because it doesn’t matter if Bucky asked for omega’s number first - she would always end up with Steve. In any AU. In every AU. ANYWAYS. GUYS. I hope you liked it and I hope you’re not mad! I really really really would love to know what yall thought! Like genuinely, I jsut NEED to know what you guys thought of this bc honestly... I am not so sure AHHHHH. okay i’ll shut up now. Bye.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞

welcome to the land of fairytales, where desires you never knew you had will come true. thank you @georgiapeach30513 & @royalsweetteaa for helping me with this.

18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate my work. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

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𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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!warning! these fics will include inter-species relations, size differences, innocent kink, age gaps and dark content.

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𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬:

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕�� - pairing: prince ransom drysdale x princess reader

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𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 - pairing: prince frank adler x mermaid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 - pairing: street rat lloyd hansen x princess reader

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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 - pairing: prince lance tucker x maid reader

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𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔 - pairing: beast ari levinson, beast logan howlett, beast geralt of rivia x princess reader

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𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏 - pairing: bossy clark kent, sleazy johnny storm, dirty curtis everett, brawny steve rogers, cranky bucky barnes, tipsy dean winchester, horny sam wilson x witch/princess reader

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𝒃𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒆 - pairing: hunter lee bodecker x shifter reader

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𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 - pairing: mad hatter jefferson x dreamer reader 

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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒆 - pairing: scarecrow jake wyler, tin-man rick grimes, cowardly lion jake jensen, oz andy barber x lost reader

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𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: hansel steve kemp, male gretel nick fowler x witch reader

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𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 - pairing: big bad wolf luke danes x little red riding hood reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 - pairing: tarzan tangerine x jane reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 - pairing: giant august walker x female jack reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 - pairing: captain hook negan, captain hook jack sparrow x tinkerbell reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: alpha bear ari levinson, alpha bear henry cavill, alpha bear lee bodecker x goldilocks reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏 - pairing: prince steve rogers x princess/swan hybrid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒐𝒉, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔… 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒔 - pairing: mermaid jennifer check, mermaid rosalie hale, mermaid jane smith x clueless reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 - pairing: mufasa ari levinson x scar sergei kravinoff (kraven the hunter) x lioness reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

[hansensgirl]

🪽— 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱

summary. | Steve Rogers is a good man. You’re a good woman. Emotional affairs are harder than they seem.

pairings. | Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter, fem!reader x OMC (brief), Peggy Carter x Daniel Sousa

warnings. | ANGST, light smut, allusions to sex, cheating, emotional affairs, pregnancy (not the reader), crying, bad family, sadness, age gap, power dynamics (boss x employee), Christmas, heavy petting, kissing, broken vase (accidentally), sadness, drinking, smoking, nightmares, mild argument, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~2.5k

author's note. | hi! i'm sort of back. i'm very sorry for my hiatus. here's a new fic! this is based on the lyrics from Phoebe Bridgers' Savior Complex, which is one of my favourite songs of all time. let me know what you think! taglist: @hansensfics. i might delete this one, but please don’t save it or upload it anywhere. thanks! MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

He’s your boss. You work directly under him.

He isn’t bossy. Really, it’s an issue. Every time he gives you a task, he says ‘sorry’ first and finishes the order with another apology. You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize, but you’ve got the same problem as well. It’s always atonement for something you haven’t even done. You wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it hurt him.

Mr. Rogers is very nice. He has a secret office that he lets you stay in whenever you want. There’s a couch from one country and a desk from another. Each item is foreign in this room.

You’re always so tired, but he tells you to avoid caffeine. He gives you a blanket and tells you to lie down. You listen at first but can never relax. Not when you know he’ll be alone.

The honesty was a mistake at first. Mr. Rogers is so sensitive that he feels what you feel. He knows you so well that if something’s wrong, he’ll bother you until confession. You tell him almost anything, biting your tongue when you know you get too close to baring your entire soul.

The male friend of yours who keeps asking you out. The exams you study for to no avail. Your parents’ absence. Mr. Rogers—Steve, he insists—is a good listener and very wise. It makes sense. He’s much older than you and was on his own adventures when you were born.

The adventures are where he met his wife. Her name is Margaret, and she’s everything you aren’t. She’s headstrong and beautiful beyond words. She’s good with numbers and brilliant. She knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get them.

Peggy is a real keeper. The wedding rings on their fingers prove this well.

Nothing more than a few kisses and caresses have intertwined you and Steve. Nothing physical, at least.

You’re quiet around him. Never say anything more than a sentence. You shy away when your eyes met, especially if he says something sweet.

Words take up the space as you grow closer. Steve is particularly good with words, whereas you often stutter and blend words together.

And sometimes, there is complete silence. It’s contentful. He replies to emails, and you sort through the pile of mess in the corner.

You tell him your dreams, and he tells you the ones he’s already fulfilled. What he studied in school, his family, his friends, his favourite country he’s been to. Nothing about Peggy—neither of you can bear it.

Unless she’s done something that’s hurt his feelings—like when she swears she doesn’t talk to Daniel Sousa anymore, but he hears them calling late at night.

Sometimes, Steve talks for so long that it gets dark, and your shift is over. He pays you extra—or, at least, tries to. You never take the money because nothing was lost. You enjoy the little time you have with him.

He takes you home, wanting you to avoid walking down the street in the pitch-black evening.

His car is a mess—the same as his office. He apologizes sincerely and pushes everything in the front seat to the back. The directions consist of “take a left” and “keep going straight.” You assume he’ll forget it. You don’t know how much this means to him.

Steve stays parked outside your building when you rush to your room. You live on the bottom floor and are right by the entrance. You’re a movie’s heroine when you throw yourself on your bed and giggle, butterflies filling your stomach.

He is something. The scriptwriter has Steve’s dialogue under his name but with “CHARACTER: TBA” in parentheses. No one knows if the film will be completed. No one knows how it will end.

Mr. Rogers stays parked outside, forehead resting against his steering wheel, and he’s trying to get a hold of his nerves.

Eventually, he grabs his pack of cigarettes that he always hides from Peggy. She often reminds him of his mother—without the sagacity. She tells Steve what he should or shouldn’t do a lot. He hasn’t lived since he breathed you in.

He smokes with the windows up, tears flowing down his face because he knows this can’t happen. He cannot betray his wife, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

Steve comes to you on a starry night. You can see the moon and something else twinkling through the trees, and he rings your doorbell.

When you open the door, he’s a large man cowering like a small child. He wants to cry—you can tell. His mouth is in a frown that won’t disappear, and his eyes are glassy.

He’s drunk when he practically falls on top of you. He is slurring apologies that you know are unnecessary. His breath smells of whiskey, and he’s very heavy. You’ve fantasized about him on top of you during restless sleeps, but not quite like this.

Somehow, you crawl out from underneath the older, married man. You know it would be fruitless to lift Steve up, so you drag him to your bedroom.

You keep the door to the bathroom open and bring a bucket as well. The water on your bedside table is his now, and so is the charger and landline. Anything he wants of yours, he can have. He doesn’t even have to ask.

It’s hard to sleep when the one you desire so profoundly is in your bed, sadder than he should be. He drifts off with ease, but he’s violent in his tossing and turning. He shines with sweat and tears, soaking your sheets with his scent. You’re not sure if you’ll wash them. It’s a nightmare you can’t rouse him from, one that you don’t dare to ask him about the next morning.

Steve must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed. It’s small, too small for his big being. Or maybe it’s his hangover—perhaps even hunger. You offer to make whatever, but he grumbles.

He’s not sure why he’s taking his disappointment out on you. He wasn’t trying to test you, but you should’ve turned him away. You should’ve told him to go back home to his wife with her expected child inside her womb, but you don’t know this terrible secret. If you did, it would tear you apart from the inside out. This, he knows, for sure.

Mr. Rogers doesn’t say much to you in the morning, drinking two cups of coffee and staring out the window. You sit across him, and he looks past your face—the very visage he can never seem to tear his eyes away from.

“You shouldn’t have let me stay,” he finally says.

“Why not?” you ask, “you came here yourself. I could never turn you away.”

“You need to. You need to go out and, I don’t know, spend time with boys your age. Boys who don’t have wives or girlfriends they won’t leave you for.”

You flinch as if he’s raised one of his gentle hands.

Steve sighs. “That’s not what I meant. I think the lines between us have blurred. We’re not doing the right thing here, honey.”

You can’t look up, can’t face him. You wish this wasn’t the topic. You wish he had told you about his dream instead, and you would have told him yours. The one where he leaves you, the one where he gets his happy ever after with Peggy, and you get nothing.

He gives you a kiss on the head and bids you goodbye. You’re happy you have a day off tomorrow.

It’s almost Christmas, about two weeks since the conversation. Steve tries to make things seem normal. Normal in the sense that he hasn’t made his employee fall hopelessly in love with him. Then, normal in the sense that Peggy doesn’t exist, and he can still keep you in his arms until a customer comes in.

You go on dates with your guy friend like Mr. Rogers has insisted, but they’re unfulfilling. He often prefers to stay home and rent a movie, followed by sloppy kisses and dry humping that is unsatisfactory for only you.

“You don’t have to go out with only him,” Steve reminds you one day. You’re in his lap and he’s just finished reading through his entire diary with you. Most pages are about the employee he’s infatuated with, few are about his wife.

“I know. I just don’t want anyone else but you,” you tell him.

Moments later, his mouth is on your neck and his hand is up your skirt. You’re just about to come when a delivery man walks in, calling your boss’ name.

The shop is closed for a week, and your father has invited you to visit him and his new family. Your step-sisters are older and runway-ready. They have wonderful jobs and husbands that aren’t seeing women younger than them.

It’s like a closed practice. An event you can only watch from afar. You have no place here, even if your stepmother cleaned the guest room for you. You book a new plane ticket so you can go home early. You don’t make an excuse because they don’t even ask why; they just bid you goodbye.

You land at a horrible hour. There are too many taxis that families need—families trying to have a nice, hurt-free holiday.

And so you call Steve, and he answers on the first ring.

“Hello?” he greets, and you can sense some kind of anxiety in his voice.

“Um, hi. Happy holidays,” you tell him, nervous beyond belief as well.

His voice is smooth like honey, crooning in your frost-bitten ear.

“Happy holidays, baby,” he says. Peggy isn’t nearby.

“Uh, I’m at the airport. I was with my dad’s family, but I left. I don’t know how to get home. All the taxis are taken up.”

“I’m on my way, okay? Just sit tight, sweetie.”

“Thank you,” you exhale, “thank you so much, Steve.”

“Anything for my girl.”

When he arrives, he finds a place to quickly park. He takes your sole suitcase out of your hands and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

It’s sudden.

Mr. Rogers—your boss, a married man—is kissing you like you’re his only lover. Like he’s your boyfriend, and he’s missed you dearly.

You lean in for more, and he pulls away. Smiling, he opens the car door for you.

He takes the long way home, the ones with few cars driving alongside.

“I didn’t know you left,” he eventually says.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It was a last-minute thing.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I went to your place to say ‘hi,’ but no one was home.”

“I should’ve told you. I really am sorry,” you profess.

Steve places a finger on your mouth, shushing you. His hand moves to cup your cheek, and you push your face further into his palm.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you whisper, looking at him intently.

“I’m glad you called me. I missed you. I would do anything for you.”

You say nothing to that. You turn the radio on and the last song is one you recommended to him. You both hum the lyrics until it ends, and he turns it off.

“I always enjoy it when you drive me,” you confess after a while.

“Oh yeah? Why?” he smiles.

“You’re careful. You don’t go too fast or slow. You know what you’re doing. You’re such a pro at it,” you explain, slightly self-conscious of your reasoning.

“That all?” Steve teases, raising his eyebrows.

“Hm… No… I love your hands.” You giggle.

“Yeah? I know you do, baby. Always starin’ at them. I bet you think of them touching you all the time,” he rasps, briefly letting go of the wheel to rub at his beard.

You squeeze your thighs, mind already turning with scenarios where Steve touches you like a starved man.

His hand on your face moves back to your mouth, thumb swiping your bottom lip before pushing in. You suck on the digit, giving it the treatment you would to his cock. When you reach out to touch him, the car suddenly halts.

He stops on the side of the road, eyes watering. Regret etches his features, and you know what’s to come.

“We can’t,” Steve says, pulling his finger out. “Not yet, at least.”

“I know” is all you have to give.

Peggy visits the store in early March. Underneath her shirt is a small baby bump.

When you see it, your heart stops.

Steve brushes past you to lead her away, examining your face for hurt. You’re behind the shelves and watch the couple, your mouth parted with your eyes threatening to leak. You turn and head towards the back, choosing to hide somewhere so you can fall apart in solitude.

Mr. Rogers watches as you leave. He wishes you would look back and give him something, anything. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hurt you this way. But he did, and he will try to make it right.

Peggy leaves eventually, and Steve closes the store early. He searches for you, listening for a sniffle or movement.

You sit on the floor, a broken vase next to you. He quickly nudges the debris away so you don’t get hurt.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says, looking down at you. You look up, eyes bloodshot, and you stare at him with something he can’t place. He envelopes you in a hug, and you can feel his erratic heart clamouring against your face.

“Come with me to the office, please,” Steve begs.

You shake your head.

“You ask too much of me, Steve. You have a wife and an innocent child on the way. We can’t keep doing this.”

“No, no. Please, just come. Please, honey,” he pleads once more. “At least hit me, yell at me, tell me to go fuck myself.”

“Why would I? I’m happy for you. You’re getting what you’ve always wanted.” Your voice cracks, and you force a smile. Steve sees through it all.

“No. I want you—I love you. But I don’t have you, do I? Listen, I’ll leave her. I’ll still be a good father, even though I know that’s not my kid at all. We’ll go elsewhere. Move into a nice home and do whatever we want,” he rambles.

Strong Mr. Rogers breaks apart in front of you. You take him into your arms, and you both cry together.

You’re the one that leads him to his office. You sit on the couch with him and notice that his wedding band is gone. He always wears it when Peggy comes by, but he didn’t this time.

“That night you took me in—I dreamt of you. I dreamt you weren’t mine, and you didn’t love me anymore. I messed something up and didn’t fix it. It was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had,” Steve admits.

You don’t say anything. As much as the whole ordeal hurts you, as terrible as what you’ve done to a woman and her child, you can’t let Steve go. Neither can he. It’ll have to end someday, just not now. Not yet.