#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

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Movie Premiere

🇺🇸Pairing(s)🇺🇸→ Chris Evans x male reader ⚠CW⚠→ gay sex, overstimulation, edging, bottom male reader, soft dom Chris Evans (?), teasing, semi-public, public handjob, handjob, reader being a brat, double penetration with a dildo, orgasm denial, anal sex, dildo play, kisses and bites, and aftercare. You’re an actor too. 🇺🇸Rating🇺🇸→ Explicit and fluff 🇺🇸Requested🇺🇸→ Yes

🇺🇸Word Count🇺🇸→ 1.8k

🇺🇸Summary🇺🇸→ You and your husband, Chris Evans, attend the Avengers: Endgame premiere. While watching the premiere, you decided to tease Chris. He was going to deal with you later.

Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! 

(I've never seen a movie premiere but I’m going off on what clips I've seen of premieres.)

“Hey, Y/n!”

“Look over here!”

“Smile for the camera!”

“Can you tell us about your character?” You’ve been to many movie premieres, but the experience is still thrilling. As you walk down the red carpet, your hands intertwine with Chris’. The camera constantly flashes, and the paparazzi want your attention and answers to their questions. You smile, wave, and answer. You answer a few of the questions before continuing down the carpet. 

“You look so handsome, darling,” Chris says as he tightens his hold on your hand. He leans down and kisses your forehead briefly before pulling you down the carpet. After the kiss, the flashing lights got more vicious as the paparazzi tried to get a good shot of the scene. They, and the media, were going to have a field day with the picture– whether it was bad or good, you and Chris didn’t care. 

After walking down the red carpet, meeting your co-stars and chatting with them, answering paparazzi questions, and signing autographs, you enter the dark room and wait for the movie to begin. Chris had gone to get popcorn and other snacks to eat during the film. Seats began filling up with actors, other celebrities, and directors. 

Though it wasn’t that full, many left and only returned when the afterparty began. Chris returned in time with snacks and drinks as the movie was starting. He hands you the food you wanted and a drink with his signature smile. 

XXX

You were going to crash out– the way your husband acted in this movie was making you horny. When seeing Chris’ Steve Rogers character appear for the first few minutes, it made your dick jump with excitement. The bathroom room scene– any scene with Steve was going to be hot and sexy. 

What can you say? You love your husband very much. 

After looking around to make sure no one was looking, you placed your hand on Chris’ left thigh. It was nothing, and it seemed innocent to anyone who happened to see it. Even Chris didn’t think much of it and placed his own over yours, smiling before returning his attention to the movie, yet you had other motives. 

During the movie, your cock was aching underneath the dress pants, a noticeable print could be seen. You slowly started rubbing it as your hand moved closer to Chris' crotch. Chris’ breath hitched as he felt your hand stroking and rubbing his clothed cock– he looked at you with wide eyes and gestured for you to cease your actions. “Darling… not here.” You didn’t listen, biting your lips with a teasing glint. 

You were going to be a brat. 

Things further escalated when Chris felt his pants being undone and his flaccid cock pulled from its clothing prison. He gasped, choking on his breathing, as your warm hand wrapped around his cock. He looked around before positioning the popcorn bucket to hide his cock. Biting back moans as you continued playing with his cock, the once flaccid piece of meat slowly became erect. 

Chris’ eyes roll back as he unintentionally thrusts into your hand. Your hand was moving without issue due to all the precum oozing from Chris’ cockhead. Your stroking pace was slow, but the older man wasn’t having it and continued thrusting into your hand. A distinct wet sound was getting louder from all the precum accumulating, Chris’ breathing got heavier, his chest heaving as he felt the onset of his orgasm approaching. 

Before he could experience the sweet release of the pent-up energy, Chris suddenly felt your hand pull away from his throbbing cock. Snapping back into reality, the brown-haired man turned his head, all he saw was your grinning face as you returned to watching the movie. It was like you had no shame in getting him worked up and denying his orgasm. 

Chris was going to fix that. 

XXX

Everything happened so quickly that you couldn’t register it, but all you knew was that your cock was weeping from the anticipation; the anticipation of what Chris was going to do to you. All you know is that the teasing would be worth it. 

The door to the hotel room was slammed open with Chris pushing you inside and guiding you to one of the beds. Suddenly, you felt soft lips pressing against yours as Chris pulled you into a kiss. His lips moved in sync with yours as his large hands roamed your body. He then hastily started unzipping your pants before pulling them off along with your undergarments. 

“You think I’ll let you get away with that stunt you pulled?” Chris says as he pulls back from the kiss. His large hands moved down to grope and knead the flesh of your ass, pulling the two globes apart, and exposing your hole to the cold air. You gasped softly from the feeling of the air and Chris’ fingers teasing around the rim of your hole. Suddenly, Chris pulled from the kiss before pushing you onto the bed, your body making contact with the firm softness as Chris sat beside you with something in his hand. 

It was a dildo. Apparently, Chris must have packed cleverly without you ever finding out about it. No wonder the security guards at the airport were grinning at Chris when they looked through his luggage. 

“This is your punishment,” Chris said as he lubricated the dildo before pressing the thick cockhead against your twitching hole. Like a moth to a flame, your hole recognized a cockhead and instantly tried capturing and pulling it deeper. Your breathing gets heavier as the large dildo pushes slowly into your tight heat. The large piece of silicon was spreading your ass perfectly, it was a replica of Chris’ cock so it was going to feel euphoric. 

It didn’t take long before the dildo was completely inside. Your feet clench as you relax your body, Chris helps by pressing kisses on your face and upper body area. His large hands grope your chest as he continues his charade of kisses, fingers tweaking your nipples, pinching and pulling on them. Your moans and whines were music to his ears as he started thrusting the dildo. The sounds got louder as the silicon rammed against your prostate, your nerves being lit on fire from the feeling. 

“Good boy. No cumming though. This is what you deserve.” Chris says softly as he pulls from your neck, his now free hand squeezing your aching cock. He grins from seeing translucent precum oozing from your cockhead, stroking it while squeezing. Your breathing gets heavier as you grip the bed sheets and thrash around as you try humping Chris’ hand, hoping that you’ll still cum. 

This continued for the next fifteen minutes. Chris teased and ruined your orgasm while he rammed the dildo into you.  You were a babbling mess, drool coming from your mouth with your dick and hole aching. Your body was on fire; you needed the real thing. “P-Please… I-I… fucking… god… n-need more! P-please, I-...I won’t do it… a-again!” you cried and begged Chris for more. He just looked at you without saying anything, only rubbing his large bulge. 

Chris just grins, releasing your aching cock, and stops thrusting the dildo. He then silences your pleas with a kiss as he starts undressing himself. He was no better than you, eager to have some kind of stimulation. “Fine, baby. You’re lucky since I’m eager too.” Chris says as he leaves your side and positions himself in between your legs. Now this was new, having a dildo inside while Chris fucks you was making you eager and anticipating double penetration. 

Your breathing was becoming displaced as you felt the same cockhead, this time Chris’, pressing against your already-filled hole. After a few test runs, the head pierced your hole and slowly pushed deeper. Chris groans as he feels the silicon rubbing and gliding against his cock. It was a tight fit as your hole was being stretched to its limits. 

“Fuck! T-too much… so good, but hurts.” You cried with tears flowing down your face. Chris stopped his ministrations. “Fuck, I’m hurting you? You don’t have to do this. I can pull out the toy and just do it normally.” Chris says softly as he wipes away your tears. He didn’t wanna force you to do something you didn’t want to do. 

“N-no! I want this… just need to calm down.” 

“You don’t have to do this, darling,” Chris said but you didn’t budge. You shook your head, telling him that you wanted this. Chris nodded in acknowledgment, letting you adjust for however long you needed. He comforted with kisses and praises as he waited. After a couple of minutes of calming down, with the help of Chris’ affection, you gave him the confirmation to continue. 

Chris started thrusting his cock and dildo in rhythm. Every time he pulled his cock out, he rammed the dildo in, and vice versa. He gripped your hips as he fucks you like a wild animal. “So fucking tight… shit... So good.” Chris groans as his eyes roll from the tight and warm feeling of your ass. His grip tightened as he could feel his cock already about to burst– probably leaving some marks. 

You were on cloud nine; no, beyond cloud nine. Your bundle of nerves was being touched repeatedly by Chris’ cock and the dildo. “O-oh god… t-this… ngh…  is a-amazing!’ You cried as you were fucked into being a dumb cock slut for Chris and his cock. Your hole was spasming as your cock was aching and your balls were churning with cum. 

Chris gave a few more thrusts before his cock exploded. His cum spurted its thick and creamy load inside, Chris letting out a roar after being denied an orgasm a couple of hours ago. “Fuck!” just from the feeling of Chris’ orgasm set you off. Your cock squirted, painting your abdomen and chest with the pearly white substance. Your hole clenched, further milking more of Chris’ load. 

You felt the large body of Chris collapsing onto yours as he was exhausted. The room was hot, filled with heavy breathing and panting.

However, you know Chris is gonna want more. There’s an hour left till the afterparty, but you might as well just miss it. 

THE END. 

a/n: Hello, my strawberries! I can't wait for requests to open again! I'm sure y'all got juicy requests for me. Taglist: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @mack-thedork @geminiflanagan69 @starboye @boypied Very Special thanks to my proofreader; @sagethegaywitch Join my taglist!

[crowsofdarkness]

Just For Tonight: Part One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Content Warnings: 18+ smut which includes spanking, voyeurism, oral with male receiving, protected p in v with reader being on birth control, anal, and m/f/m relations.

Summary: Steve lets you live out your secret fantasy. Just for tonight.

Authors Note: This is basically porn with some plot. Part Two will be posted later. Enjoy!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr

-this is not connected to my other Stucky fic Ménage a Trios-

PART TWO

“You’re such a little brat,” Steve stumbled into his bedroom with me attached on his lips. 

My hand worked at the buttons of his jacket, trying to get it off, but he smacked them away. 

“Steve,” I whined, my pussy clenching around nothing. 

His hair wasslicked but he blew away a few loose strands. There was a darkness in his eyes, something I didn’t recognize, and for a brief moment it scared me. 

“You’ve been riling me up all night knowing I can’t do anything about it. Then when I finally think we’re going to fuck, you stop and talk to an old friend for twenty minutes,” I angrily gruffed while crossing my arms over my chest.

Steve cocked his head to the side, those eyes glazing over the pout of my bottom lip before glancing over my shoulder briefly. 

“Haven’t you learned anything? Don’t you want to be a good girl for me, Y/N?” 

I gulped loud in the quiet darkness of his bedroom, knowing that whatever I was in for tonight wouldn’t be good. 

Not like I would complain. 

“Take it off,” he plucked at the strap of my dress. 

I quickly shimmed out of it, letting the silky material pool at my feet. Steve’s hungry eyes raked over my bare chest and pebbled nipples, licking his lips ever so slowly. He closed the distance between us, engulfing me in a feverious kiss that was filled with biting lips and crashing teeth. His tongue devoured every inch of my mouth, reveling in the taste of my drink earlier. I scratched and clawed at his shirt, wishing he would take it off so I could graze my teeth over every inch of skin. 

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” Steve bit along my jawline, down to my neck as his fingers worked circles on my clit.

I hissed in pleasure, trying to remove his clothing while I stood bare for him.

“I’m fucking tired of all the teasing, Steve,” I grumbled and began working on his belt.

The sound of skin on skin echoed in the room and I cried out in ecstasy when he slapped my ass again.

“I’m tired of you being a brat. Get on your knees,” his eyes darkened.

I stood tall to him, not backing down with a wicked smirk on my face.

“No.”

Through the darkness of his bedroom, only cast in the ever-growing light of the moon, Steve stepped back into the shadows with a playful gleam in his eye as a darker voice sounded from the corner of the room. My shoulders went stiff as the smirk was wiped off my face, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to.

“You heard him, doll. Get on your fucking knees.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to gather my bearings as I turned slowly towards the voice, now seeing the figure sitting in the corner of Steve’s bedroom. His ankle was crossed over to his other knee, tattooed hands resting on the arms of the chair. 

“B-Bucky,” you gulped. “How long have you been sitting there?” 

A soft click echoed in the room and it was soon bathed in an orange glow thanks to him turning on the lamp next to him. I sucked in a breath at the sight before me. 

Bucky was still dressed in his party clothes and his hair somehow managed to stay perfectly combed back from when I last talked with him last on the couch less than an hour ago. 

There was a typical monthly party at the Avengers Tower and even though I’d been glued to Steve’s hip all night, I found myself slipping away to talk to Bucky. 

“Wait,” I turned back to Steve. “Did you two plan this?” 

He gently cupped my cheek and left a chaste kiss on my lips. “I see the way you look at him, Y/N. How your eyes linger when he walks away.” 

My lips parted to speak but felt a swift smack to my ass. 

“Don’t lie,” Steve clicked his tongue. “It’s clear you want him to fuck you.”

“Steve,” I breathed, trying to figure out what to say. 

It was futile though because it was true. 

While I loved Steve with every part of my soul, lately I couldn’t ignore the way my heart leaped into my throat when Bucky walked into a room. It wasn’t always like this, I’d grown up with both of them. But recently, as Bucky started becoming healthier and growing into the man that sat before me, something in my brain kept telling me to let my gaze linger a while longer than what’s deemed normal for someone who was in a relationship. 

“I know what happened in the kitchen,” Steve chuckled. 

My head snapped back to Bucky, anger radiating off of me in waves. “You told him?” 

He tried to wipe the smirk off of his face, failing miserably. “I don’t keep secrets from Steve.”

It felt as if a weight had pulled down my stomach when I remembered what happened in the kitchen three nights ago. 

Tiptoeing down the stairs quietly in fear of waking up the rest of the house, I pulled on the bottom of Steve' shirt hoping it would cover my ass. Unfortunately it didn't and part of my yellow panties peaked through the end of it. 

“Just a quick snack,” I muttered into the dark air, reaching for the fridge. 

“Did you want some popcorn?” 

Screaming, I whirled around to see Bucky sitting at the kitchen table, lit up by the faint light of his phone. He extended a bowl of popcorn towards me. 

“What the fuck!” I held a hand to my racing heart. “You scared the shit out of me, Bucky!” 

Chuckling, he rose from the table to slowly stalk over to me. “Steve asleep?” 

I raised a brow. “Yeah, why?” 

Bucky shrugged before running a hand through his long hair and I did my best not to gawk at his bare chest. 

“My room is next to his and you’re not exactly quiet,” he said while standing in front me, towering over with his tall frame. 

Heat rose to my cheeks when I realized exactly what he was talking about. 

“Uh,” I pulled down the end of my shirt, hoping to cover my ass. “Sorry. Sometimes I don’t even realize how loud I can be.”

He hummed, the noise vibrating in his chest, and his vibranium fingers swiftly brushed over the heated skin of my thigh. 

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. I liked what I heard.” 

My gaze flashed down to his cock when I felt it brush up against my thigh, feeling exactly how much he liked what he had heard. Every part of me ignited with a burning desire that seemed to only be lit when Bucky was around. The guilt wouldn’t stop eating away at me though because I knew it was wrong to feel this way, especially because Steve also made me feel the same. 

I loved Steve so much, I saw a future with him. We’d been together for years. 

But the prospect of something new lingered on my mind for quite some time and the more I tried to ignore it, the harder it became to tell myself I didn’t want Bucky as well. 

“Bucky,” I breathed as my eyes fluttered shut. 

His fingers grazed up the skin of my thigh, burrowing up the shirt so they could rest on my hips. His warm breath tickled the side of my neck as he breathed me in deep. I didn’t push him away, I let his lips graze over the purple marks Steve left earlier and my fingers wrapped around his thick biceps. My nails dug into the skin, claiming what wasn’t mine. 

“Yellow is your color, doll,” he ghosted over my lips before stalking out of the kitchen, leaving me in a pool of my own desire. 

“It wasn’t anything,” I tried to tell Steve, hoping he would understand. 

With his hand still resting on my cheek, he grazed his thumb just underneath my eye. 

“It’s alright, honey,” he reassured you with another kiss. “I talked with Bucky and I have something to run by you.”

A sudden chill brushed over me, causing my nipples to peak. 

“What is it?” 

Bucky spoke next, still sitting in the chair in the corner of Steve’s room. “One night. You can have the both of us for one night.”

I nearly choked on my spit when I realized my darkest desire was about to come true. 

“You’re joking, right? This is some kind of prank?” I asked Steve. 

He sternly shook his head. “It’s the truth, Y/N. As long as you agree, you can have Bucky either along with me or just him. Just for tonight.” 

My jaw fell to the floor in shock. There was absolutely no way that Steve was being serious. The second I touched Bucky, would he freak out and break up with me? 

“How do we expect things to go back to normal after tonight? You can’t possibly think we’ll all forget this happened,” I snorted. 

“Doll.” 

Turning my head towards Bucky, he beckoned me over with a crooked finger but I was still unable to move. I felt Steve slink up behind me, his hands trailing up my stomach. 

“It’s alright, honey,” he whispered. 

Swallowing thickly, I took a step towards Bucky but he sharply shook his head. 

“Crawl.”

Heat shot straight down to my core, that fire igniting as I slowly dropped to my knees so I could crawl over to him. His ocean eyes were blown wide as they tracked my every movement until I stopped in front of him. 

“I need you to agree, doll,” he said, body vibrating with adrenaline. 

I threw a look over my shoulder at Steve who had sat on the edge of the bed resting his elbows on his knees. He gave me another reassuring nod so I looked back to Bucky. 

“Yes,” I breathed. 

The pale skin his neck bobbed slightly as he swallowed. “Take my cock out and stroke it.” 

Fucking finally. 

My hands worked quickly to undo the button and zipper on Bucky’s pants and I gasped when I noticed how hard his cock was in the confines of his briefs. 

“Do you see what you do to me?” He groaned while his cock sprang free.

I licked my lips at the sight of precum that beaded at the head of his cock; so pretty and pink. 

While Steve’ was a bit shorter and thicker, Bucky’s was longer and had a vein that ran underneath. It looked angry, like he’d been fighting a boner all night long. My hand worked up and down, squeezing every so often as I went, and Bucky’s head fell back against the chair. 

“Fuck,” his jaw went slack when my mouth began to take all of him. 

His hands found my hair, keeping me locked in place as he fucked into my throat. My feet dug into the carpet trying to keep myself locked in place and my nails dug into his clothed thighs. 

“Easy, Bucky,” Steve warned. 

“She can take it. Can’t ya, doll?” Bucky’s one hand cupped my cheek, working out the tightness. 

I nodded, urging him to keep going with a pat to his thigh. 

Now he didn’t hold back, rising up from the chair as he fucked the back of my throat all while keeping my head in place. 

“Shit,” he cursed. 

Opening my eyes, I glanced up at him with tears, begging him to keep going. 

“Beautiful,” he mused while holding his arms out wide moments before I felt his warm seed shoot down the back of my throat. 

I hummed in such delicious delight, swallowing all of him, before falling back to my knees and wiped the drool with the back of my hand. Bucky was still slumped in the chair, breathless, and I dared a glance over to Steve to see that he was gripping the blanket tightly. I feared that maybe he was angry with what happened but realized he, in fact, loved what he saw because I could tell how hard his dick was underneath his pants. 

Large hands gripped me from my armpits and forced me to sit on a lap, Bucky’s warm breath fanning over the back of my neck. He spread my legs wide, giving Steve a preview of how wet I was between them. 

“Do you want to be a good girl and give him a show?”

I nodded to Steve. “Can I?” 

He palmed his dick. “Of course, honey. I want to see you fall apart.” 

“Touch yourself,” Bucky rasped while biting my ear. 

Moaning out in pleasure, my fingers worked in fast circles against my clit and when Bucky’s cock brushed along my folds, I shivered in his embrace. 

“You want my cock, doll? You’re so fucking needy for it like the slut you are.” 

“Please,” I choked out. “I’ve wanted it for so long.” 

I felt Bucky’s chest rumble underneath me. “Did you hear that, Steve? Your girl has been wanting my cock for a long time.” 

Steve snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.” 

My entire body was red from not only the heat of my growing orgasm but the fact that these two could read me like a book. Knowing what I wanted before I even knew. 

I jerked, halting my actions slightly, when Bucky pressed himself inside of me. 

“She has an implant,” Steve answered for me when he realized I was too far gone with touching myself that I wouldn’t be able to answer. 

Slowly but all at once, Bucky filled me completely and I groaned out his name. My hips rode against the length of it and my hand, that familiar white haze creeping into all of my senses. 

Unlike how he fucked my throat, Bucky was soft and gentle while dragging his cock in and out of my pussy. 

“So tight,” he bit down on the skin of my shoulder, causing me to cry out in ecstasy. 

“I’m so close,” I panted, fingers working even faster. 

Grunting filled my ears and through lidded eyes, I watched as Steve pumped his cock desperately trying to chase his own release. The sight of me being speared open by Bucky’s cock drove him wild, his hair no longer slicked back. 

A hand turned my face and now I was staring at Bucky, whose eyes glanced down to my lips; a silent question. 

“Please,” I sighed. 

His lips tasted different than Steve’s. They were softer, more plump and the few hairs that peppered around his mouth tickled my skin as our tongues danced slowly together, getting used to each other. 

Without warning, my orgasm tore through me violently and I screamed my release into Bucky’s mouth. His cock twitched inside of me before I felt that familiar feeling coating my insides, spilling onto my thigh and his pants. 

“Fucking hell, doll,” Bucky tried to catch his breath and wrapped his arms tighter around me. 

Steve halted his grip on his cock to lift me off of Bucky, tossing me onto the bed. I was exhausted but knew we were only just getting started. 

“I need you now, honey.” Steve made quick work of discarding all of his clothes. “Is that alright?” 

I reached out for his hand, pulling him down on top of me. “Please, Stevie.” 

His eyes fluttered shut at my nickname for him and then he lined his cock up with my pussy. “I won’t last long. Seeing you on Bucky’s cock nearly tipped me over the edge.” 

I ran a hand through his long hair and gave a lazy smile. “It’s alright.” 

The vast difference between the two men was evident as Steve’ cock filled me. His pace was erratic, him pulling my knees to my chest so he can fuck into me even deeper. 

The bed creaked beneath us, the headboard slamming into the wall, and Bucky chuckled from his corner of the room. 

“This is what I would hear every fucking night. Imagining this scene in front of me; although seeing now, it’s much better than what I thought,” Bucky said. 

I turned my head towards him, watching as he slowly rose from the chair to toss his clothes to the growing pile on the floor.

“Holy shit,” I mused at the sight in front of me. 

Bucky was like a god, as well as Steve. A pair of super soldiers. The muscles of Bucky’s stomach constricted as he began lazily stroking his cock. I held out a hand, inviting him over to us. He was too far away, I needed to feel his body heat against me again.

“Honey?” Steve whined in my ear, causing my attention to snap back to him. “I can’t hold on.” 

I pressed a kiss to his lips. “Cum for me, Stevie. It’s alright.” 

I knew he wanted to try and bring me to another orgasm and felt bad. But I reassured him it was alright and soon felt himself spill inside of me; his cum mixing with Bucky’s. 

Spent, he fell to the bed beside me and I gazed tiredly up at the ceiling, noticing all the faint hairline cracks that ran along it. The bed dipped at my feet and I felt Bucky’s long vibranium fingers gather the cum that started to run down my legs, forcing it back inside of me. 

“We can’t have this go to waste, doll,” he pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee. 

“Bucky,” I whined when he slipped in another finger. “I don't think-.” 

“You can. I know you can,” his voice was gone, taken by the lust that consumed him. 

Steve rose from the bed to help Bucky position me on my knees. Bucky then slipped underneath while Steve knelt behind me. His finger grazed over my puckered hole and I shivered. 

We’d only have done anal a few times, more recently the last few days. It was then that I realized he was preparing me for this moment. 

“Stevie,” my head fell against his shoulder. 

He kissed me long and slow, savioring how I faintly tasted like Bucky. 

“You can back out if you want,” he reminded me. 

I shook my head. “No, I want this.” 

I then looked down to Bucky, who gave me a warm smile. “I want both of you.”

It took a bit of finessing but we managed to get a perfect position as I slowly sank down on Bucky’s cock. Steve then pushed me over so my breasts could press against Bucky’s chest. His arms held me in place while Steve gathered some of the cum inside of me, coating his cock with it. 

“Safe word?” He asked. 

I glanced over my shoulder at him, remembering that we came up with one a while ago when we decided to start experimenting sexually. 

“Mercy,” I breathed. “But don’t stop.” 

“Keep her distracted, Bucky,” Steve ordered. 

He did by capturing my lips in a feverish kiss, one that was a fight for dominance and ultimately, he won. My nails scraped along his scalp, causing Bucky to hiss out in pleasure. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, doll,” he admitted while moving his hips, fucking me all over again. 

I brushed away the sweat sticken hair from his forehead, agreeing with a nod. “I feel the same.” 

Steve left a kiss to the base of my spine. “Ready?” 

I nodded and slowly, the head of his cock began to press inside of my ass and my cries were swallowed by Bucky as he kissed me again. I’d never felt so full in my life and it took me a moment to adjust to having both of their cocks inside of me at the same time. 

“Tell us when, doll,” Bucky’s voice cooed in my ear. 

“Go,” I urged them on. 

After a moment, Steve and Bucky figured out the best rhythm that worked best and my body felt like it was in overdrive. All of my senses were heightened as both of their cocks worked in spreading me wide for them. The room filled with the scent of all three of us, tangling together with the tellings of our ever growing affair. Some might have thought this was wrong but it felt so right; so free. 

This was supposed to be one night and then we would go back to our normal, everyday lives. Bucky would have to watch Steve and I be in love while he received none of that. 

How was that fair to him? 

How was it fair to my heart that always yearned for him?

Bucky’s vibranium fingers wrapped around my throat, his thumb titling my chin up so he can leave bruising marks there with his lips. 

Steve' pace was slow, not wanting to hurt me, while Bucky’s was fast paced and down right ruthless; the perfect mixture that brought me closer and closer to the euphoric release I’d been craving. 

“Doll,” Bucky bit down on the sensitive part of my neck when his second release of the night filled me. 

His body fell limp underneath me but we dared not move, fear of stopping how good Steve felt inside of me. 

“I love you,” Steve panted into the skin of my back. 

“I love you too.” 

My eyes hooked with Bucky’s and for the briefest of moments, I could see something twinkle in them. Our lips met in another kiss and not a few seconds later, both Steve and I let out our releases at the same time. 

The three of us lay in a mess of tangled limbs, me snuggling up in Bucky’s chest while Steve held onto me from behind. I was sticky and wet between my legs but I couldn’t be bothered to clean up. Sleep was beginning to sink its claws into me, desperate to pull me into the darkness with it, until I felt the bed beneath me shift. 

Bucky was getting ready to leave after noticing Steve was asleep, an arm draped over my stomach. But I grabbed onto his arm, stopping Bucky. 

“Where are you going?” 

His ocean eyes motioned to Steve behind me but I pulled him back into bed with us. 

“Y/N,” he breathed. 

“Please stay? For me?” I begged with bright eyes. 

He brushed away a strand of hair from my face and eventually agreed with a gentle kiss to my lips. “Anything for you, doll.” 

None of us knew what this meant but I think we all could agree that we’d be unable to go back to our old lives after this. I’d have to be open to Steve about my feelings for Bucky and I could only hope he’d understand that my heart was big enough to love both of them; equally. 

For now though, I lay with both of them. Feeling both of their heartbeats and skin on mine lull me to the sleep my body was craving. 

[ronearoundblindly]

Wide Open Future (1)

Steve Rogers x agoraphobic!Reader

Summary: Steve saves you after the Battle of New York, but you don't want to be taken from your safe space.

Warnings for being self-indulgent, hurt/comfort that's not completed in this part, 'slow' burn (but it's not going to be super long in total), and none of those are actually warnings so much as content descriptions. Originally, this was a one-shot. Go figure. There are zero specification of male or female, ethnicity or size for this reader. WC ~2k

Life was fine until half of your apartment blew apart. In an instant, the whole outer wall evaporated, leaving you seven stories up, the floor (mostly) ripped out from under you.

Obviously, in the emergency, no one took the elevators, and through your front door to the hallway, you heard people run for the stairs. They passed you by, but that’s because you didn’t know any of your neighbors. You didn’t move though. You couldn’t.

The sound…the sounds got worse.

Unearthly shrieks from floating, flying whales. Explosions that rattled you to the bone. Human screams, outside and in. Rubble from the other two stories above you crashed down, chipping away chunks of your floor with it.

Your couch teetered for a while before it finally caved.

Your kitchen island peeled away in bits: countertop, dishwasher, and then the sink plumbing.

For some reason, the worst was your books cascading off the shelves like synchronized swimmers into a sparking pool of ash.

You didn’t move though. You couldn’t.

It grew dark. The sirens never stopped.

You got thirsty, then hungry, yet you stay so, so still.

This has gone on for hours now. Life as you know it is over, and you remain curled at the foot of your front door.

All the electricity is out. Your fridge is off and your food spoiling, but at least water stops shooting out of the destroyed sink. There are no working clocks. Your walls are bare, and your phone long since slid down the slanted rubble to god-knows-where. There’s no signal by then anyway.

You don’t make a single sound. You can’t. You’d rather die here than leave. The dusty air is taunting you. You’ve shifted from hyperventilating to holding your breath.

“I’ve got something. Hang on,” you hear just as a spotlight sweeps across your living room turned paper mache dollhouse.

“Jarvis, can you get me the tenant listing…yeah, looks like…apartment seven-four-three…oh.” The voice says your name. “I’m going to move this off of you, ok? Can you hear me?”

The gentle hand sweeps a thick layer of debris off of your head and back. You chance relaxing your hands to look at the face of your rescuer.

Him.

“No,” you dryly whisper. “I live here. ’S my home.”

“The building isn’t stable. We have to evacuate you.”

“No,” you try to scream, but it’s too hard to focus. You’re fighting to back up out of his reach, but rubble lies behind you. Your ankle slips into a crevice, stopped by strips of exposed rebar.

Captain America grabs your shaking arms. “I’m sorry,” he keeps saying, “I’m sorry. You can’t live here. It’s not safe.”

You repeat yourself, too. “I can’t leave. I can’t leave.”

He talks, but it’s not to you anymore. He checks that you’re the last they’ve found in the building. People got trapped in the stairwell beyond a point, and they’ve been handled. Cap announces he’s going to “see this one through and call it a night.”

You’d rather die than leave. Out there is not livable. Out there is unsafe.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t believe him.

“I need you to trust me, just for a little while, alright?”

“I don’t want to go—“

“Close your eyes for me. Please? Just close your eyes until we get there.”

“No, please, no.”

He has to pry your body a little straighter to get ahold of you, and your shaking becomes so violent he adjusts, using sincere force to pin you to his chest before getting a running start.

He jumps across the chasm of your building to land on what sounds like a metal ramp and calls for the Jarvis person to take him home.

Home? It’s not your home. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” he says against your temple.

You’re frozen, shaking so badly words couldn’t form if you tried.

“I swear to you it will be okay.”

You haven’t spoken since.

He set you down on a bed, but you promptly crawled to the smallest, darkest space you could find, a closet full of Converses and jackets.

Cap, in his filthy suit, tossing the cowl onto the dresser, simply asks if you’re injured since he can’t get to you. You won’t let him see. The most he can do is hand you a bottle of water and a watch from his nightstand to hold.

Time is still going, still moving, even when you won’t.

Steve is…tired.

What he knows from J.A.R.V.I.S. is very little and very simple: you rented that one apartment for years, it has a magnetic keycard entry for the building, a regular key for your unit’s door, and there is no record of you ever entering since your move-in day. Your utilities are 35% higher than the average in the area. Because you are there all day. Because you never leave.

Because, as you yourself said, you can’t leave.

Steve sympathizes, he does, but he had to make the tough call. He wasn’t going to watch you die. He couldn’t live with himself if he left you there. This is the next-best and now only option.

He’s exhausted and starving. Shawarma only goes so far when vaulting across sheer drops to help find survivors in spots too dangerous for regular emergency crews. Steve alone found thirty-nine men, women, and children. Tony, with jet-pack feet and metal-armor biceps, rescued somewhere in the range of eighty people.

Great. Give Stark a medal. Steve couldn’t care less right now.

That’s not true, exactly, but after back-to-back-to-back calls with shelters all at-capacity or worse, he’s in need of sustenance, a shower, and clean clothes.

First, he chugs two of the protein shakes his fridge gets stocked with. It’s never been by his choice—and he never thought he’d be quite this grateful for modern packaging,—but today’s the day. Next, he chances a sweep through his room, snatching up sweats and then barricading himself in the bathroom. Despite wanting to stay beneath the hot spray forever, Steve rushes, concerned that you’re hurt in a way that wasn’t obvious.

He brings you another water and one of the shakes. He has no expectation of you wanting it. At the moment, however, there’s no other food ready to eat.

He grabs another washcloth, warming it under the tap, and slowly wipes at your face and hands. You certainly look terrible but luckily have nothing more than minor cuts.

Lucky.

He doesn’t feel lucky, and he imagines you don’t either.

“I’ll find you some place better in the morning,” he promises. “I’ll be out that door—“ he points “—on the couch if you need anything. I know you don’t want to,” Steve adds quietly, lacing his voice with as much reassurance as superhumanly possible, “but make yourself at home. You’re going to get through this.”

Before he can push himself off the floor, you grip his fingers in thanks, and he hopes, he wishes, he prays for that to be true.

It doesn’t feel like enough. It never feels like enough.

It’s small.

That’s good for your purposes of adjustment, and the fact that he’s never there (almost never) helps, too.

It’s all his stuff, not your stuff, but your whole life doesn’t exist anymore.

Jarvis, which is actually an AI wired through the walls or something, arranges for you to see your therapist via video chat on an enormous projection in the bedroom.

There’s a bedroom and bathroom. Theoretically, there is a grand common room just outside the door but you can’t.

“I’ve been told they won’t move you until a permanent place is found,” Dr. Lucien cuts in. You were staring at the door again, wondering. “Temporary shelters are so crowded right now people are getting transferred back and forth to wherever there’re beds. I’m told it’s no trouble to let you stay.”

Would Captain America kick you out?

“That’s good." You try to be brave. "I can do that.”

You work remotely—that’s always been easiest—and it’s a weird time where you have both less and more to do because the city is still in chaos, meaning you’re at your computer when Cap knocks before entering his own room.

“Hey,” he says carefully, “I just need to clean up.”

“Of course,” you reply automatically. In your mind, you shrink the world down to just the yard-long desk and this rolling chair. You focus on your screen and everything is fine.

Hearing the shower is no different here than that muted, rushing sound that came from your neighbor’s place before. You’ve had people you know in your space without much incident for a long time; the problem is mostly out there.

Cap leaves immediately. You almost don’t notice at all until a plate is plunked down on the desk.

“I’m gonna rest here for a bit if you don’t mind.”

“It’s…” You can hardly look up, knowing that he’s watching, knowing he can see inside this tiny bubble world you’ve managed to illusion yourself into. “It’s your room.”

“Turns out the couch is not very comfortable longterm.”

You nod and shrug. From the list of tasks left to complete, you’ll be working for a while yet.

“You got everything you need?”

He doesn’t lean in to make eye contact, you notice. He’s patient.

With twitching fingers, you pull away from the keyboard and slowly turn, controlling your breath to not seem panicked.

“I do, Captain Rogers. Thank you very much.”

His eyes are…not full of pity like you expected. He looks like a host eager to please a guest, but that’s ridiculous when you are indefinitely trapped here, constantly invading his home.

“Call me Steve, and I’m glad to help,” he replies softly.

In situations like this, it would be customary to say ‘no, I’ll get out of your hair,’ ‘I’ll just leave you to it,’ ‘please don’t put yourself out on my account,’ but that’s the thing: you cannot get out. You cannot leave. You don’t want to. You never, ever want to, and in this specific case, it’s actually Steve’s fault.

He raps his knuckles on the wood. “Little though it may be…”

Steve chugs a glass of water on his way to the bed—which you’ve made diligently every morning and changed the sheets twice now—and stretches across the half closer to the door. You’re comforted by the fact you didn’t steal the exact spot he sleeps in on top of bogarting his quarters.

You use his desk, you have clothes in the closet which Jarvis had someone bring you, and you etched out a corner of the bathtub rim for wash products. You’ve for sure done enough to invade already, so you stay silent and work while Steve falls asleep, snoring lightly.

You deep clean the bathroom one day when extremely restless, and although he insists you did not need to, Steve beams with gratitude.

You do a little more around the room, and a little more, and a little more.

The single room and en suite bathroom become your oasis, and—as promised—a safe space that you thoroughly dread leaving. The dread includes leaving Steve Rogers.

You know that all of those things will lead to another tragic episode once you have to move again. It makes you do more in hopes of being essential, of being needed to stay.

Steve pops his head in.

"Would you...would you want to watch a movie with me tonight? I checked out a few--well, I guess you'd call them 'classics' now--from the library, and I thought...maybe..."

With one flash of a smile, your oasis grows to two rooms. Life just might be fine again someday, just as he promised.

[Next Part]

A/N: I'm probably going to regret not just completing this before posting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @rogersideup (tagging you because this kinda reminded me of your series Late Night Talking which I love so much!) @rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63 @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry

[sunday-bug]

Their Little Spitfire part 3

Pairing: Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Bucky Barnes x female Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Content: power dynamics, oral (male & female receiving), dirty talk, threesome, use of pet names, literally p*rn

18+ Minors DNI

A/N: This doesn’t follow a particular timeline. Just for shits, giggles, and self-indulgence.

Synopsis: Steve & Bucky take an interest in the new girl. And she’s full of surprises.

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four in progress

Bucky doesn’t take long until he’s on the edge of orgasm. He uses your mouth like it was made just for him, his fingers entwined in your hair, thrusting his hips between your lips. “Fuck, trouble, I’m gonna cum,” he moans.

Steve continues stroking himself on the bed, watching you suck Bucky’s dick, panting at the view.

“Gonna cum on those pretty tits,” Bucky growls, pulling out of your mouth and painting your chest with a deep moan. You see his toes curl into the plush carpet as his hips rut in between your breasts. “God,” he breathes, putting a hand on the wall behind you to steady himself.

You notice how hard they both still are and wonder just how many rounds they can go with the serum running through their veins. Bucky’s cum drips down your chest, and you run a finger through it before bringing it up to your mouth to taste.

“Yummy,” you say, looking up at him. Bucky grins at you and Steve sighs loudly on the bed. You stand up and grab the towel from the floor, wiping yourself clean.

“Now that you’re nice and pliable,” you start, walking toward the pair, “may I make a request?” You use your most convincing puppy dog eyes.

They both nod, and you know you have them wrapped around your finger. “Kiss?”

Steve sits up, and scoots to the end of the bed toward you. “No, not me, Stevie. Kiss Bucky. I want to watch.” You climb on the bed and settle yourself against the headboard, propping a pillow behind your head. Bucky is on your right and Steve on your left - all three of you on the bed.

Bucky nods so softly at Steve that you almost don’t notice it. Steve brings his arms to Bucky’s biceps to steady himself and leans in. You watch as their eyes roam over each other’s familiar faces. Bucky goes in first, but stops short, waiting and watching for Steve’s response. Steve leans in further, brushing his lips against Bucky’s. You see precum leak from Steve’s tip and lie back further, spreading your thighs to touch yourself. Their lips collide - a groan escaping Steve as he deepens the kiss. Bucky’s tongue moves into Steve’s mouth, and Steve moves a hand down to touch himself, whining. They lie down on either side of you, slowly breaking their kiss. Bucky’s hand replaces your own, working between your legs. Steve brings his hand to your neck, pulling your face to his and kissing you desperately.

“C’mere, Steve,” Bucky rasps, removing his fingers from you and pressing them between Steve’s lips. Steve sucks them clean, a dark gleam in his eyes.

“She tastes good,” he says to Bucky, moving his own fingers into your wet core. “You wanna taste her?”

Bucky nods and Steve pushes his glistening fingers into Bucky’s mouth, spreading your arousal over his pink lips. Bucky closes his eyes as he tastes you, moaning.

“I need you on my tongue, doll,” Bucky growls, moving down between your legs, spreading your thighs further apart.

“Think you can make me come, old man?” You ask playfully.

“Don’t challenge me,” he quips, slapping your wet pussy with a sting. Your hips buck at his touch. “Get up,” he demands, and you do, letting him think he’s in charge. He positions you so you’re on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed. “Now put Stevie’s cock in your mouth.” Steve moves and pushes his dick into your view.

You take him in your mouth gently as you feel Bucky’s hands on your ass, spreading you apart as his mouth meets your wetness. He hums into your pussy, moving his face side to side, making a mess. He slaps your ass hard with his left hand, and it jolts your body forward until you’re choking on Steve’s dick.

“Oh, fu-,” Steve starts before stopping himself.

Bucky stops feasting to laugh, “Almost made him curse, naughty girl. He only does that with me.”

You stop suddenly, “So you guys have hooked up?”

Steve laughs darkly, “There’s a lot we keep quiet. Now keep sucking me.” Steve pushes your head back down to meet his length. “There ya go. Smack her ass, Buck. Make her choke on me again.” Bucky spanks you, and you choke, mostly on his girth, but partially on his gall. Where the hell did Steve’s newfound cockiness come from?

You feel a coil winding tight in your belly as Bucky’s magical tongue works at your clit and you moan around Steve’s cock. “Keep going, Buck. She’s gonna come on your face.” You hear Bucky sigh contentedly at the news, and he presses two warm fingers inside of you, curling in just the right spot.

“Such a good girl, letting Buck eat you out from behind,” Steve praises, pushing your hair back from your face. He removes his dick from your mouth and holds your head in his hands. You whine, on the edge of orgasm. Steve keeps your face in his hands, his eyes on yours. “I want to watch you come for Bucky, okay?”

“Oh, shit-!” You cry out, your pussy clenching around Bucky’s fingers, pulsing through your orgasm. You look at Steve as you come, his blue eyes dark and mischievous. Bucky slaps your drenched pussy with his right hand, sending shudders down your back and thighs. “That’s a good fucking girl,” he grounds out from behind you.

“My turn,” Steve whispers, letting your face go as you fall into the soft pillows below.

Fuck… maybe they are in charge.

Spitfire taglist: @amanda-says @maxlordsgf @sebastianstan0813 @ruexj283 @maryevm @venunsgirl @hi172826 @ghalouha @tripletstephaniescp

[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.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Extra Credit

Pairing:  Professor!Steve Rogers x Female Reader 

Word Count: 1715

Summary: You try to beg your professor for a better grade on your paper. He’s come up with extra credit instead.

Warnings: Oral Male, Smut, P in V. 

A/N: For @avengers-assemble-bingo AA-Kinky Bingo with squares Professor AU + “Kneel for Me.”  Card (KB010)

A/N 2: Thank you to my beta readers @late-to-the-party-81 & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog. Thank you to @late-to-the-party-81 for my wonderful header. I absolutely love it.

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site or run through AI. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen.

You’re heading to college today to speak with Professor Rogers about the grade he’s given you on your latest History paper -  it’s far lower than you thought you deserved. You worked on that paper so hard, holed up in the library for almost a month perfecting it. You’ve even sacrificed seeing your fiancé for all that time. No sex, no sleepovers, nothing. This means that not only are you mad, you’re sexually frustrated, especially as your fiancé is refusing to talk to you currently as some kind of payback. 

Walking to Professor Roger’s office, you double checked your appearance in the reflection from the windows. You’d made sure you were dressed seductively in the hope it would help you get your way with some extra credit. You’re wearing a pink sundress and sandals that show off your legs to perfection. You know that Professor Rogers has liked your dresses all semester long by the way he’s stared at you and cleared his throat. It was clear that he’s been wanting to get his hands on you but you’ve shyly blown him off. Maybe grading your paper is his way to stick it to you?

Finally arriving at his office, you knock twice and hear him call out, ‘Come in.’ Opening the door, you see Professor Rogers sitting behind his desk. He’s a handsome, muscular man, built with wide shoulders and a trim waist. He wears his dark blonde hair a little longer than would be expected for someone in his position and sports a matching beard that had touches of grey in it.  To top it off, his azure blue eyes are framed by the glasses that sit perfectly on his handsome face. Safe to say, Professor Rogers is legit sex on a stick.

When he says your name it gets your attention right away. “Please have a seat.”

You close the door behind you and walk in, taking the seat opposite him. As you cross your legs you notice his eyes following your movement. He licks his lips before a smile settles on his face.

“What can I do for you today?” He asks as he sits straighter in his chair.

“Well, Professor Rogers, I’m here because of my grade I got on my final paper. See, I don’t understand why I got a ‘C’ grade for my paper. I worked very hard on it and spent the last month in the library researching the topic. I even stopped seeing my fiancé so I could focus on doing my best. I think I deserve better than the grade you gave me.”

Professor Rogers just stares at you for a moment. “So you think because you gave up on things in your life and stayed in the library, you deserve a better grade?”

“I mean, when you put it that way, yes, I do. I was in the library after my classes for hours on end. I went some nights with barely any sleep. So I feel…”

He interrupts you. “You feel like you deserve a better grade? Maybe I was too tough on you?”

“Yes, exactly. I’m so glad you understand.” 

“Wrong.” Professor Rogers leans forward on his desk, his sleeves rolled up and looking quite annoyed. “This is college. You’re supposed to be working hard for your grade. Just because you quit seeing your fiancé doesn’t mean you get extra points.”

“But Professor, you don’t understand, I need this grade to be better in order to keep my scholarship. Maybe extra credit or something to help me out.”

“So you want extra credit now to help your grade. Say I do this for you, what do I get out of it?”

“You would have a student who will be very appreciative of your help.” You offer a smile but you can see he is not amused.

Taking his glasses off he pushes back from his desk and walks around it to sit on the edge of it. “While that may be nice on your end, I’m talking about me. What do I get out of this? Hmmm. Let’s say I’m willing to give you extra credit for your assignment. What are you going to do for me?” He raises one eyebrow and pointedly looks you up and down.

Your thighs rub together on their own accord as your pussy grows wet. You can see where he’s going with this. “I would do anything for you.” You coyly professed.

“Anything? Just like that.” He gets up again and walks behind you. You hear the faint click of the lock being put into place before you feel his hands on your shoulders, lightly massages them.

“Yes. Anything.” You whisper out.

He appears back in front of you and smirks. “Kneel for me.”

You hesitate for a moment, but get out of your chair and do what he says.

“Good girl. Now your assignment is to let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours before I take your pussy. If you can behave, I’m sure your grade will get the boost you need.” 

You look up at him with doe eyes and nod your head. “Yes, Professor Rogers.”

“No, darling, call me Steve.”

“Yes, Steve.” You answer, seductively.

Steve undoes his top button on his pants and unzips them, pushing them and his underwear down just enough for his hard cock to spring free. You can’t believe how long and thick he is and let out a little whimper and then lick your lips. 

You gently take hold of him and lick up from his base. At the tip, you swirl your tongue and then take him in your mouth. You start to bob your head up and down, slowly working him down your throat, your right hand stroking what you can't fit in your mouth. Your eyes are locked with his the whole time you take him.

Steve groans above you as his hands fist your hair. You speed up and slow down over and over again, driving Steve wild. Until finally, he takes charge and starts thrusting into your throat. You gag at first from the intrusion, but finally relax your throat, allowing him to take what he wants from you. 

You hum around his cock and Steve lets out a low growl from the feeling. His light moans and groans fill his office. When his rhythm falters you know he’s close, so you reach up and cup his balls. That’s all he needs to cum down your throat with a shout of your name.

You swallow every drop of his cum and kiss the tip of his cock when he pulls it from your abused throat. It twitches at the sensation and Steve smiles down at you. “That was a great start. Plenty of effort from beginning to end. Now let's see how your pussy does.” 

He strokes his cock until it hardens again and you slowly stand up. Steve leans in and kisses you on your lips. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate and allow him to deepen the kiss. 

Suddenly, Steve spins you around toward the desk and pushes his things off it, including a picture frame.  He lifts you up onto its edge and parts your legs. His hands slide up your thighs to your pussy but he stops short when he realizes you have no panties on.

“You little minx. No panties?” He pushes your dress up around your hips. “You really were here to get my attention, huh? I have to say you fully have it.”

Steve thrusts into you hard, causing you to whimper. His pace iss anything but soft as he fucks you fast on the desk and you moan with every thrust as he takes you apart with his cock.

“Take it. Every. Fucking. Inch.” Steve growls in your ear.

You can’t help but breathily whimper his name. “Steve…” Your legs weakly wrap around his hips as you try to meet him thrust for thrust.

Steve slows his pace and gently lays you down on the desk, changing the angle taking you with an agonising slowness that makes you whine in frustration. 

“Don’t like it when I get you back for teasing me, do you? If I were you, I’d hold on for the ride of your life,” he grunts out.

You do your best to hold onto the desk as Steve stops torturing you and speeds up again. With the change in position, he’s now able to hit your sweet spot. Over and over he thrusts against it, making you cry out his name.

“St-Steve! More. Harder.” 

On a particularly hard thrust you finally let go and cum for him. Your walls tighten around his cock, triggering his orgasm and he cums with a shout. He continues to thrust as he spills deep inside you before slowing and then stopping.

You lie there on your back and feel absolutely satisfied. You hum your approval as Steve starts to chuckle. Slowly he pulls out of you and grabs tissues to clean both of you up. After you’re both as clean as possible he throws the tissues in the garbage and helps you sit up. Your breathing is only just returning to normal.

“That was incredible, Steve,” you murmur out.

“Your extra credit has been approved.” He states in reply as he pulls his pants and underwear back up. 

You slide off the desk and retrieve the picture frame from the floor, smiling as you put it back on his desk.  An engagement photo of the pair of you.

“So does this mean you forgive me for not sleeping with you for a month?” you enquire as you fix your dress and hair so you don’t look completely fucked out.

“Oh no, you still have more making-up to do, although I’ll admit that this little roleplaying of yours was hot as hell. We should do it again sometime.” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, picks his glasses up and puts them on.

“Well then, since you’re done for the semester, let me start making it up to you when we get home.”

“That sounds like a plan, future Mrs. Rogers.” Steve kisses the top of your head and throws an arm around your waist. Unlocking the door, you both head home for some more sexy times.

Tagging:

@americasass81

@awesomerextyphoon

@awkwardgiraffe726

@b3autyfuld1sast3r

@caplanbuckybarnes

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@get0verit

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jtargaryen18

@jvanilly

@kmc1989

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mcira

@mdemontespan1667

@missvelvetsstuff

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@noellez-best-life23

@notyourtypicalrose

@obsessedwithcevans

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@sarahowritesostucky

@spectre-posts

@stellar-solar-flare

@steviebbboi

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@wolfsmom1

@yenzys-lucky-charm

[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.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar

Complete

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

[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 ❤️‍🩹

[navybrat817]

WIP Poll Game!

Rules: Make a 24 hour poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count.) Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Thanks to @vintagebuckybarnes and @theinheriteddutchess for the tags! I have quite a few WIPs, so I provided some options and you lovelies are welcome to ask about them.

NPT: @targaryenvampireslayer @jobean12-blog @astheskycries @ghotifishreads @holylulusworld @romanarose @foxgloveprincess @sergeantbarnessdoll @jen-with-a-pen @reveluving and anyone seeing this who wants to play! ❤️

[chxrryhansen]

pairing: steve rogers x reader

Warnings: 18+, slight daddy kink, lots of pda, choking, face slapping, thigh riding, hair pulling, degradation.

₊♡₊˚🎀・₊✧

He watches you across the room barely paying attention to Bucky and Sam’s conversation as you prance around in your pink mini skirt, only allowing you to have worn it since he was with you.

Your tight cropped shirt showing off your toned stomach which was now a nice shade of tan, caused by the amount of sunbathing you and Steve had done on the two week holiday break that iron man himself had graciously gifted you.

Your golden jewellery shining underneath the disco lights Tony insisted on getting when you all moved out of Stark tower and into the compound. Steve’s eyes leave you for a split second, engaging in Sam’s rambling.

Pool stick in your hand, you lean over the table ready to shoot your shot, too tipsy to notice your skirt riding up against your thighs exposing the light blue panties he picked out for you for everybody to see, wiggling your hips you lined your eyes up with the ball, every male (and female) gaze in the room suddenly fluttering to your ass.

Bucky notices this instantly, following their eye lines he lets out a low whistle “Think you’d best go and get your girl rogers.”

Steve’s focus is already out of the window, not even picking up on Sam’s hushed “god damn.”

Within a split second steve is on his feet making his way towards you, his thick thighs pounding across the room and at the sight of his biceps straining against his dark blue polo connecting to tensed fists.

Tony’s guests watchful eyes abruptly return to whatever they were doing before the sight of your pretty behind distracted them, the guys you were playing poker with making excuses as to why they had to leave, feeling the scene, not wanting to be the main attention of the super soldiers anger, confused as ever you begin to stand.

Swiftly you feel his familiar hands pushing you back down against the table, hips meeting your behind, you practically moan at the feel of his cock straining against his pants, pressed in between your asscheeks.

“Pretty girl…” oozed out of his lips, a smile grazing against your teeth knowing exactly who’s behind you “Stevie baby!” you say excitedly, making your second attempt to stand straight

“Ah ah ah” he whispers softly yet so harsh at the same time “You like acting like a slut baby? is my attention just not enough for you anymore, hmm?.”

“What are you talking about stevie” you giggle lightly, not understanding what he’s upset about, suddenly his large hand wraps around your ponytail, pulling your hair back roughly causing you to yelp, in both pain and pleasure.

“You know exactly what i’m talking about, you stupid little brat, you like shaking your ass for everyone to see?” he growls, his grip on your hair tightening.

You begin to try and defend yourself yet your lips don’t even have the chance to part before he’s dragging you away from the public eye and into a supply closet down the hall.

The second the door to the small room closes, steve’s on you in a flash, pushing you up against the wall, his knee sliding in between your legs pressing against your pussy, already soaked for him due to his man handling tactics, his veiny hand running up your chest and to your throat, gripping tightly against your throat as you choke for breath.

“God your such a stupid fucking whore sometimes” he shakes his head, you don’t dare try to speak knowing your already in enough trouble, “Grind against my thigh baby, i know you want to, you dumb, stupid little girl” he lets out in a condescending tone.

“Daddy please” You whimper as you began to grind your hips into his thick muscle, your clit throbbing against his jeans, as you rutted against him he started to feel your slick dampening his thigh.

“You can do better than that, speed it up dirty girl, before you make this even worse for yourself.” he threatened, your speed picked up instantly not wanting to anger him further, steve already knew you were getting close as your moans got louder, your mouth blabbering incoherent sentences.

Just as you began to feel your insides tighten, the familiar flood of pleasure was snuffed out within an instant as he gripped your hips, removing his thigh from between your legs.

“You didn’t really think i was going to let you cum after the show you just put on out there, did you?” he teased, you cried out desperate for that soothing release you had previously been so close to, whimpering and begging him to let you cum.

His hand lifted from your throat, hitting you across the face, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to get his point across, your cheek instantly turned a light shade of pink as your eyes welled up with tears.

“Cut that shit out right fucking now” he warned, “the next time i hear a noise come out of those pretty lips you’ll have wished you didn’t wear that damn skirt tonight” he growled as he stroked the cheek he had previously hit.

“Oh and you’d better hope those perverts are praying for you because you’re in for a very, very long night little girl.”

[americasass81]

Dark Manifestations

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Stalking, Kidnapping, Bondage, Supernatural Elements, Use of Pet Name, Implied Mention of Anxiety, Implied Non-Consensual Sex, Implied Breeding.  Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Taking a bit longer than I thought to complete, this fic was written as a birthday gift for @ironlady1993 and her love for these three heroes.  Really hope you enjoy this Ari.  Happy birthday my beautiful friend. lyl💕💕💕

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Overseeing a Stark Party should be the opportunity of a lifetime, but what happens to that life when a certain set of heroes get ideas that don’t quite mesh with how you see your future?

Pairings:- dark!Steve Rogers x Named Female Reader, dark!Iron-Man x Named Female Reader, dark!Stephen Strange x Named Female Reader.

Total Word Count:- 3,752

The guests mingled and the drinks flowed as you left the kitchen area and headed off back towards the main hall.  Wishing you could be back at home in your nice warm bed as various guests milled around and soaked up the party atmosphere, your boss had insisted however that you be on hand to make sure everything ran smoothly despite the fact that this was not how you had planned on spending your birthday.  After all, as she was quick to inform you, a Stark party was an entertainment extravaganza and organizing one could make or break any firm.  So here you stood, a beacon of poise and professionalism as Avengers and guests alike talked, drank and appeared to be having a fabulous time.  If only the same could be said for you.

Looking out over the expanse of guests and servers while trying to calculate whether or not there was enough of everything to keep all of them satisfied, as well as thinking of all the other activities you could be presently engaged in, your distracted state forced you to jump a little however when the words whispered from a body behind your back brought you back to your current task and location.  "Hey sweetheart, this is a great party you’ve thrown together.  Didn’t mean to startle you though.  May I buy you a drink at the bar?" the obvious male voice asked and you thanked all the gods both old and new that you had kept your retort about the drink being free to yourself when you turned around to find none other than Steve Rogers invading what little space remained in the doorway.

"Thank you Captain Rogers but unfortunately some of us are actually working here tonight.  Now if you'll excuse me," you continued politely while also failing to note the disappointment that crossed his chiseled features, "but I really must get back to things," you finished before walking away and picking up a tray to begin clearing up some empty glasses you saw sitting unattended on an nearby table without sparing him a second thought.  But perhaps you should have.

Standing there a while longer in your wake now, Steve bit his lip as he tried to figure out what exactly it was about your rebuff that didn't sit well with him however.  Sure he had spent his younger years being practically ignored and ridiculed by the opposite sex and though Sam had now taken up the shield in his place, he was still Steve Rogers and it irked him to be dismissed, however politely, in favor of you doing a job that was quite clearly several steps beneath you.  Thinking on how he could make you see the error of your snap decision, he was pulled from his thoughts however as a hand came down to rest upon his shoulder.

"Hey Capsicle, you enjoying yourself, old man?" Tony asked as he came to stand beside his friend now while snatching a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing server.

Muttering some half hearted compliment in reply about how well the event seemed to be going as his eyes continued to track your movements, Steve excused himself from Tony's presence however with talk of joining Clint and Sam at the pool table as a means of distracting himself from the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.  Irritation still clearly focused on you.

Feeling eyes continue to track you as now you handed off your tray of empty glasses to one of the many servers working the floor, glancing around to find Steve watching you while Sam chatted at him, you were never more thankful to your assistant Shona however when her voice spoke in your earpiece to tell you there was an issue in the kitchen needing your attention.  Heading off there quickly then to discover that a spill on the floor had caused a server to slip and injure themselves, you quickly assessed the situation before dealing with each individual fallout.  Making sure that the area was avoided while you checked out the injured party, a smile and a couple of "I'm fine" arguments later found you happy that the person in question was indeed well enough to return to work.  Though you did switch up their assignment to give them an easier time as the night was really only just beginning.  Then making sure yourself that the spill which caused the commotion was thoroughly cleaned up, you headed back upstairs to ensure everything there was running as smoothly as possible.  But somehow that wasn't quite the case.

Taking some time to stop by the bar once you returned to the entertainment hall, you ordered a small whiskey to calm yourself after the kitchen debacle before turning around to come face to face once more with the former American patriot and his insufferable attitude.  "I thought you weren't drinking tonight sweetheart.  Or is it just me you refuse to have a drink with?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and you were actually relieved when the appearance of Tony Stark rescued you from coming up with some answer that didn’t sound like the telling off you wanted to direct his way.  At least momentarily relieved anyway.

"Ari darling, is everything all right?  F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted me to an issue in the kitchen."

Turning away from Steve now to face the host of the party, you plastered on your best professional smile and once again greeted the man of the hour.  "Yes Mr. Stark.  It was a very minor incident, no harm was done and things are once again running like clockwork.  I hope you're happy with everything," you finished as Steve continued to observe you in a way you now felt mildly uncomfortable with.

"Yes darling, everything is delightful and I will definitely be sending my compliments onto your boss," he said, as like Steve his eyes traveled the length and breadth of your body uninvited.  "By the way," he continued, "how many more times am I going to have to ask you to call me Tony?" he asked, reaching out now to accept his drink from the bartender while his fingers grazed your shoulder in the process.

"At least once more I'm sure Mr. Stark.  Now if both of you gentlemen will excuse me, parties really don't run themselves I'm afraid," you answered politely before placing your empty glass back down on the bar and heading as far into the throng of people as you could possibly get, resulting in you being well out of earshot when their conversation started up.

"Damn Tony, even you're not beyond her indifference," Steve said as he too accepted a drink and stared after your retreating figure once more while his mind took him places his body was only aching to go.  "What do you think her problem is?"

"I don't quite know Rogers but I gotta say, she has me intrigued," his former teammate answered as he too finished his glass while his eyes joined Steve's as you disappeared into the crowd.  Now you just had to stay there and hope no more unwanted attention found its way towards you before this night was over.  Not that your luck held up very long in that regard however.

Glad to be away now from the two heroes, who for some reason you couldn't explain creeped you the hell out, you were so busy fleeing their attention and looking over your notes on the event so far that you almost toppled over however when you walked straight into a decidedly solid yet muscular mass.  Looking up from your clipboard then as two strong arms reached out to prevent you falling backwards onto your ass, your eyes now locked on those of the Sorcerer Supreme and for some unexplained reason, a sudden chill ran through you as he spoke.

"Easy there princess, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," his silky voice said as he held you firmly while you tried to right yourself.  Finally regaining your composure, you stepped out of his arms and looking around was thankful at least that no one seemed to have witnessed your mishap.  "I hope you're enjoying yourself," Stephen continued as he brought you out of your thoughts and back instead to the reason you were once again so distracted.

"Sorry, what did you say?" you asked, giving the man your most professional look which had now been well practiced by this time of the evening.

"I asked if you were enjoying the party," he repeated as you looked behind you also to see two other Avengers watching this interaction now with the most curious of expressions clouding their features.

"I'll enjoy myself when this party is over and I've got the week off to recuperate," you replied before raising your hand to your earpiece as if to accept a call before walking away without another word.  Standing in your wake then as you didn't even dignify him with an excuse, Stephen Strange now headed off towards the other side of the room as a dark corner beckoned to the three disgruntled heroes.

Continuing on with your duties then for the rest of the night while simultaneously rebuffing numerous more advances from the three heroes who couldn't seem to understand that not everyone wanted to worship at their feet, you were finally thankful at least when the last party guest left and one by one Earth's Mightiest Heroes began to retire to their various quarters.  Exhausted beyond belief now at the night you had just put down, you promised yourself that the next time you spoke to Adriana you would tell her in no uncertain terms that you quit.  Sure the money was great and you were damn good at your job, but the type of attention you had been fending off all night from people who were supposed to be the best humanity had to offer, told you that enough was enough.  They were supposed to know better and, birthday or not, it was not in your contract to spend all your time massaging their clearly inflated egos.  No, perhaps it was finally time instead to follow your passion and bury yourself among a mountain of library books like you had always dreamed and leave the event organizing to those better suited to handling famous people.

Tidying up the final few bits and pieces then while making sure the last remaining unnecessary lights were all shut off, you headed off along the corridor now and was so focused on reaching the elevator that you failed to notice the tinkling sound that signaled the danger you were in until the walls of the building began to shimmer and shift as if out of focus.  But by then it was too late.

Watching in disbelief as the elevator that would take you to safety disappeared, a new sound behind you had you turning sharply instead to face the first avenger and one third of the bane of your existence throughout the night.  "Now sweetheart, you're going to make us think you don't like us," Steve said while you looked around frantically for a means of escape as well as his other two teammates you could only assume the 'us' referred to.

Seeing no other people however and so turning back again towards what once had been your way out, a glowing crack in the wall before you gave you hope.  Not much, but at least it was a start.  Not daring then to glance back at the man behind you now as you quickly decided the unknown was better by far than what currently presented itself to you, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes and dove through it without caring what happened or where you ended up.  At least until you opened your eyes in a somewhat similar place.

Running through this new corridor now as a shimmering orange portal appeared behind you, you didn't give it another thought however as you reached out and rushed through the first door you came across.  Which proved to be another monumental mistake.  One it seemed you had been making consistently since you had first agreed to supervise this cursed event.  For that's where it seemed this night had been headed.

Resting your head and hands against the door now as you tried to control your ragged breathing and racing heartbeat, your blood ran cold however when a soft whisper reached your ears and confirmed that this destination too held a figure you were not much willing to entertain.  "At last darling, I've been waiting."

Turning around slowly to face a now suited up Iron Man, your fingers reached for the handle of the door again as something about his demeanor told you that this was not the hero the world knew him to be, even if his behavior all night had not already convinced you.  Rising from his position on a bed you were now just noticing, panic gripped you more fiercely however as the door that would have offered you salvation moments ago suddenly disappeared and thereby confirming that something sinister was definitely at play and you were at its mercy.

Moving around the now closed off box as the man before you stalked towards you like a jungle predator, a ray of hope arrived again as another shimmering portal appeared before you however.  Deciding again that what you didn’t know had to be far more enticing than what Tony Stark and this scene seemed interested in, you dodged around Iron-Man, jumped through the portal and ran the length of yet another corridor until a familiar room told you that you had not actually left the Avengers Towers behind.  Which gave you hope at least that your car was waiting here somewhere to whisk you away to safety.  Hope that was soon to be shattered beyond repair leaving nothing but devastation in its wake however.

Slowing down as you entered the entertainment room which now showed no signs of ever having hosted the night’s party, you froze completely however at the sight of the Sorcerer Supreme standing by the floor to ceiling windows, bathed in the moonlight shining through from the world outside.  Turning his head to gaze upon you now, the sinister glow in his once kind eyes alerted you to the possible danger he too posed and it sent a shiver down your spine.  One of these men you realized now would have been enough to handle at the best of times, but three of them in their current guises was a damn nightmare.  One you had to escape from.

Holding onto this feeling now and looking nervously behind you into the corridor you had just left, you began to slowly edge backwards towards the door when two more portals appeared and out walked the only other two men who gripped your heart as if death itself had come to visit.  You were finally outnumbered.  Standing now on either side of the man you suspected responsible for this whole freaky moving tower thing, a flapping at your back forced you to shift your focus from them however, as a six-eyed black bird appeared, blocked your escape and drained whatever hope you had left to you.  Frightened beyond belief now at the terrifying images that held you in their grasp, you still had enough wits about you however to not just surrender without a fight and so diving beneath the creature's expansive wings you ran like hell from the three former heroes that seemed to have lost their minds while hoping they stayed as far away from you for as long as possible.  Which it seems was similar to what they had in mind.  For now at least.

Not daring to look behind you then as an intense flapping sounded in your ears, you kept running until suddenly, the floor gave way beneath you as yet another portal took out your feet and swallowed you whole.  Tumbling endlessly now through what appeared to be the same corridor over and over and over again, as portal after portal appeared beneath you, fear gripped you like never before but you finally stopped screaming at least when the massive, scary bird reappeared and swooped in between you and yet another portal.  Hanging on to this creature now for dear life as exhaustion finally started to creep over you, you wished you had fought harder however when it landed back in the entertainment room with the three heroes determined it seemed to turn your life into a living nightmare.  For what else could they have planned?

Standing where you'd left them still as the creature now settled on its powerful legs so as to allow you to alight, yet another shock ran through you however as Doctor Strange waved his hand and the room around you disappeared to be replaced by what could only be described as a millionaire's representation of a caveman's room.  Boasting nothing but a bar, coffee table and some couches spread out throughout the spacious structure, it was the thick stone walls and no visible exit however that really caught and held your attention.  For the only light here now was all artificial and as a result it drew your eyes elsewhere.

Looking around as the guys made themselves comfortable now, you would have been totally devastated by the lack of escape options if it wasn't for the events which happened next however.  Eyeing up every possible shadow for even the smallest hope of escape, this was quickly extinguished as Steve Rogers stood before you and encased you now in his powerful arms.  Struggling against his grip then as he kissed you harshly, panic overtook you further as a coil of magical energy wound around your neck and snaked down your arms to completely secure your wrists.  Bound now in the blond man's arms as Doctor Strange and Iron-Man approached you from either side, their close-up appearance simply confirmed what this whole night had already shown you … something wasn't quite right with these heroes.

Closing your eyes again against this realization as the room shimmered and changed around you once more, the enormous bed you had seen earlier appearing against one wall now, tucked neatly between four impressive stone pillars simply confirmed what your gut so far had screamed at you.  It was definitely their plan to claim you and your senses just couldn’t seem to handle this truth as you tried your best to shut out what was happening all around you.  But it didn’t last long unfortunately.  Dressed in darker hues of black, red, blue, silver, orange and purple, time would soon reveal just how far these three men had fallen however and that revelation alone held all your attention now, at least until their voices broke through whatever panic their actions and altered appearances had triggered.

"Do you think you might have terrified her, Strange?" you heard Tony ask as your eyes remained shut to the world around you while you shrank back farther in fear as a snap of the sorcerer's fingers rid you of what remained of your tattered outfit before your bound and naked form was then moved away from the other two deranged monsters to the bed prepared specially for you.

"Of course he did, Tony.  Look at that thing," Steve replied and tentatively opening one eyelid now as the sheets beneath you caressed your thoroughly exhausted and naked body, you shut it just as quickly however when the terrifying visage of the bird that brought you back to this nightmare filled your vision once more as it now settled on a perch above your head in a makeshift headboard that was by far the most horrifying scene you had witnessed thus far.  Which is why you wished this terrifying experience would end there.  But these beasts had plans that totally went against anything you now wished for.

Hoping against hope now that your tiny movements would go unnoticed, all hope was dashed like waves against the shore however when the final voice reached your ears as Doctor Strange snickered and ran his fingers now along your moistening cheek.  "Well that's my bad I guess, but you didn't exactly live up to your end of the deal now did you?" he questioned as he snapped his fingers once more and magically shed all the clothes covering up his impressive physique while you watched in abject horror as his equally terrifying companions did the same.  Not that their actions distracted you too long however as his words solidified in your brain and brought you back to some semblance of your usually rational self.

"Deal?" you questioned forcefully now as the three fully naked men focused solely on you then in a way that told you they couldn't wait to see what argument you planned to set forth.  But you simply ignored them and continued on before your nerve and this sudden burst of anger faded to be replaced with fear and panic once more.  "What deal?  I never agreed to any of this.  Why the hell would I?"

"Well now, that is true I'm afraid.  You never did willingly agree to be ours,” Tony interrupted before allowing the evil Doctor Strange to clarify further.  “But you are the one who signed the contract for the party while your boss was out of town.  After that it was simply a matter of adding a few extra lines of text here and there and now you belong to us forever ... body and soul.  Isn't magic wonderful?" he finished with an inhuman laugh then as he now looked over at his companions and winked at them before speaking once more while his fingers delicately wormed their way down your trembling body towards your weeping flower as his lips came to rest against the shell of your ear.  "So which one of us do you want to be fucked by first, princess?”

And not waiting for a response however, all three of these fallen heroes descended towards the bed and spent the following hours claiming your body in every manner of depraved sex act that fueled their lust and forced you to accept everything they gave you despite the screams that tore forth from your lungs, shattered your soul and remade you into the perfect vessel from which they planned to start a whole new brood of dark heroes with you as their chosen queen.