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eccentricallygothic · 2 months ago

Text

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You.

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power.

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact.

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of.

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence.

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before.

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception.

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you.

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long.

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’.

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it.

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude.

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak.

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity.

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders.

You get it.

That was the deal, after all.

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days.

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve.

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here.

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you.

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble.

He is reminding you of your place.

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no!

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness.

Fuck.

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped.

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff.

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!”

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.”

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now.

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense.

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once.

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now.

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!”

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you.

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore.

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be.

It appears as though the sentence has changed.

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance.

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time.

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions.

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm.

It always gets better after that.

For him, at least.

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs.

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!”

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here.

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud.

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity.

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices.

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion.

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!”

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away.

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision.

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!”

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives.

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there.

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try.

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust.

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you.

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously.

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”

Oh, no.

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him.

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?”

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again.

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all.

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle.

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further.

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result.

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it.

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during.

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!”

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence.

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this.

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe.

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting.

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down.

Quite literally.

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness.

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form.

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake.

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way.

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

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buckxtommy · 5 months ago

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bucktommy as teachers!! ☆ this was a prompt fill for @911actions requested by @daddykinkkinard –thank you so much for donating! 🍉

today is the last day you can send in prompts! so please check out gotcha 4 gaza carrd & consider donating $5+ or an e-sim and getting some cool fanworks in return!

#we even accept oc x 911 character (s) ship prompts #!!!#911 abc #911 fanart #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #myart #art

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ravishinglavishingluvr · 5 months ago

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loving is easy | poly!rosekiller x Black!oc

pairing: poly!rosekiller x black!oc, regulus’ twin warnings: fluff, gn!oc, not edited wc: 427

“finally! you’re back!” barty had announced with a smirk as evan entered the dungeons, his feet dragging along the cold stone floors. the slytherin common room was characteristically cold, the only warmth came from the fire in front of the you. as the night wore on, the number of occupants dwindled, yet the fire remained steadfast. all that remained were you, barty and regulus as you waited for evan to return from the library.

you and your twin turned to face the blond when the only reply he could muster was a heavy sigh. catching evan’s eye as he approached, you exchanged a small smile, though it seemed to take some effort from him.

“come sit, evan,” you gestured to the armchair opposite the three of you. “you look exhausted, my love.” evan only hummed in response. he slowly made his way towards the couch where his two lovers and friend sat, briefly caressing barty’s neck before stopping in front of regulus.

“shift it,” he murmurs to your twin.

“evan, there’s an empty chair right behind you,” regulus argues.

“reg,” evan sighs, “now if you’d please.” his tone left little room for argument.

regulus grumbles about his audacity now that he’s dating his sibling, but reluctantly moves anyway. evan slumps into the space next to you, arm resting on the back of the couch and legs spread in front of him. regulus and barty ease back into their conversation before evan’s arrival. you watch his face closely. feeling your gaze, evan tilts his head and offers another small smile that reaches his eyes, looking a little more relieved now. you return his smile with a wink and run your hand through the hair at the nape of his neck, his eyes couldn't help but close at the feeling.

as evan relaxed into the couch, he eased into the animated conversation. His arm slid from the back of the couch to around your shoulder. The comfort of your presence and the brush of barty’s arm against his fingertips gave him the solace he had being craving for the whole day. he sighed once again, shoulders drooping.

your eyes start to ache and grow heavy as it gets later, it takes all your effort to remain upright and attentive as the three boys converse spiritedly. you quiet down, and opt to listen to them talk in front of the crackling fire. but your head seems to grow more and more heavy as the late night turns to early morning. your head drops to rest on barty’s shoulder. noticing this, evan pulls your legs over his lap, guiding you into a lying position where you rested your head onto barty’s bouncing leg that stills almost immediately.

that’s how the rest of your night passed, your head in barty’s lap and evan gently caressing your ankles as the three of them talk and you offer a remark or a laugh at their bickering. eventually the conversation drowns out and your eyes begin to drift closed, and the only thing you can hear is the muffled conversation and the roaring fire. the only thing you can feel is the scratch and tug of barty's fingers at the hair near the nape of your neck, and the worshipping, barely-there drag of evan's palms against your ankles.

across from you, regulus watches evan pause the delicate attention on your ankles to pull the blanket draped over the back of the couch over your unmoving figure, and barty pulls the blanket to cover your shoulders that shiver underneath your thin pyjamas. the moment lasted only seconds, before his sister’s lovers return their gaze to him to quietly continue their playful banter in the glow of the fire.

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juiles · 8 months ago

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Horror Movie Queen

Requested: yes

Summary: a teen reader whos done a bunch of horror movies is filming a scene where she has to scream, freaks everyone out in the cast. Italics is the filmed scene.

Tags: really just fluff except one mention of torture and hitting

Masterlist here.

Request form here.

Taglist here:

A/N: Its short but its something new. i think im getting back to writing again so thats exciting!!

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Y/n sat staring at the star studded cast in front of her at the reading table. Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downey Jr., Tom Holland, Elizabeth Olsen. It was wild all the people she had spent her whole life looking up to, and here she was, about to film a whole Marvel movie with them.

This was new territory for her too. A whole new genre of movie, different from the horror movies she was known for. The rest of the cast didn’t watch her movies so they didn’t know how she worked.

“Y/n? You okay?” Chris Evans asked waving his hand around in front of her face. “You zoned out there.” He added softly to the teen who flushed slightly and nodded looking down at her hands. “Have you done enough reading now? Are you ready to get into costume and makeup?”

Y/n paused for a moment picking at her fingers before she looked up and nodded. “Yeah. Ill go get ready. I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” She took a quick glance around at everyone who shot her small nods before she disappeared. When she finally came to set, fully ready for her scene, her manager waved her over.

“Okay… lets get this over with guys.” She said, her manager chuckling at the bored look on the teenagers face that was currently covered in bruises and blood, her clothes hanging off of the girls frail body, a gash across her face where a scar usually sat on her characters face.

She was filming her background scene, how her character, Maddison, got where she was, fighting with the Avengers. The torture and pain the character had gone through obvious with the way she was dressed. “Alright you, are you ready to scream?” Thomas asked the girl with a grimace, knowing what he had to pretend to do to the girl. She nodded and stepped on to the set, a cold damp cell that had red splatter all over one wall, showing what she was supposed to have gone through. Thomas stepped forward, the director getting ready for filming, unknown to the teen, the rest of her cast mates stepped in to the studio, hiding in the shadows.

Scarlett elbowed a nervous looking Lizzie who motioned to the makeup on the girls face, the blonde shook her head slightly motioning to be quiet with a finger to her lips. Evans eyes widened as he studied the gash on the girls face. They all knew it was makeup, but as they had grown protective of the young girl, it scared them all. The all focused in on the girl when the director called action.

--Filming scene--

Maddison, a 13 year old girl who had been kidnapped by Baron Strucker at the age of 5, sat huddled against the bloody wall, her whole body shaking as she slowly lifted her head, a giant gash across her face, towards the man standing in front of her. The man merely raised his hand that held a ragged, rusty dagger and slashed down at the girl, her face getting slashed.

The girl let out a blood curdling scream, a scream so loud it even made Strucker take a step back out of shock. The man then turned on his heel and slammed the cell door closed whispering to the girl. “No one will ever want someone as disgusting as you.”

--Scene over--

The director called cut and y/n stood up and with a lack of emotion on her face and grabbed her water bottle. She had barely gotten a sip of it when she was collided with, a pair of arms wrapping around her, gripping her tightly. The teen squeaked as she tried to move the blonde hair to see the horrified look of all her adult castmates standing around her. She patted the back of what she assumed to be Scarlett with a look of confusion running across her face.

“What was that?” Mark asked as he nervously twisted his hands. “How did you bring that up? That was so real…”

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked as Scarlett finally pulled back. “I’m confused?”

“It was very convincing sounding darling.” The actress said, one hand not leaving the teens arm. “Are you okay?”

“Oh. I’m fine?” She responded. “I did- have you guys never seen any of my movies?”

RDJ looked at the girl sheepishly. “Your movies are intense kid… theyre a little scary for most of us.” The teen barked out a laugh shaking her head.

“My whole career I’ve only done horror movies, that scream just is what it is at this point. Nothing behind it, just 5 years of perfecting it.” She said with a small shrug and a small smirk on her face.

“Jesus kid, you gave us a heart attack as a whole.” Hemsworth chuckled as he ruffled the girls hair making the teen roll her eyes with a small smile as she was called back to the set.

Taglist: @mythixmagic @boredandneedfanfics @natashamaximoff-69 @asiangmrchk13

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academic-vampire · 24 days ago

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𝙅𝘼𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍.

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rainydayathogwarts · 1 year ago

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hello! can i request a smut with remus lupin x extrovert!reader? reader is very bubbly, extroverted, and popular and she's good friends with the other marauders. remus and her have been dating for a while and one time reader catches remus shirtless when she goes to visit him in his dorm and she starts having thots . . . she's actually been having thots for a while and they do it together (her first time? but not remus')

anyways, i understand if you can't get to this. have a good day and thanks from your fellow pan content creator <333

I've been DYING to write some Remus content and this is the perfect opportunity, so thank you anon :) I hope this covers everything you wanted in your request! warnings: smut, mix of soft and rough Remus, oral (f!receiving), wc: 2.5k

You're in the common room with Lily, occupying an armchair, your legs thrown over its edge while Lily takes up an entire couch, laying flat on her back. It was oddly silent in the common room, but you figured that it was due to the lack of marauders in the room. You let out a deep exhale and Lily giggles, turning onto her stomach before bringing up the topic of relationships.

You were both lucky enough to be in a long term relationship with the boys you'd been crushing on since the beginning of your time at Hogwarts. "So you and Remus... It's been almost a year." You blush, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment as you groan. "You guys still haven't done it... You'd tell me if you did right." You fish for one of the pillows under you to toss at Lily who shrieks, and sits up.

She shuffles closer to you, hugging the pillow to her chest and leaning towards you, her eyebrows raised suggestively. "Lily I want him so bad" You groan and the both of you break down laughing. "And what, he hasn't made a move?" You go impossibly more red, and hide your face in your hands once more, whining "No. He knows I'm a-" You cut yourself off, looking around, before continuing in a whisper, as though it was taboo. "A virgin. So he's waiting for me to make the move" Lily nods in understanding, a wide grin making its way onto her features.

She starts giggling again, and you jokingly shove her shoulder just as the portrait swings open, and the common room is welcomed with the booming laughter of your boyfriends and their two other companions. You both straighten up, trying to wipe the stupid smiles off your faces, and failing.

When Remus, James, Sirius and Peter approach you, you're still smiling, cheeks red from laughter, and trying to avoid eye contact with each other. "What's with you two?" Sirius asks as Remus dips his head down to kiss you, in synch with James' movements towards Lily. You try making space for Remus to sit beside you, but instead he just picks you up, taking your place and places you on his laps. Lily makes solid eye contact with you and clearly holds back a suggestive comment, cuddling into James' side, a hand rubbing her eyes, as if it would hide her smile.

James looks down at his girlfriend, eyebrows furrowed, and leans closer to whisper something to her. You shut your eyes, knowing exactly what she replies to him in a hushed tone, the rest of the marauders starting to get suspicious of her behaviour. James grins, and looks straight up at you. You shake your head in disappointment at your closest friend, but every thought flies out of the window when you feel Remus' fingers dip under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your waist. The movement is completely innocent and there are no other intentions behind it, but it gets you thinking about him again.

The fact that he hadn't changed his behaviour with you when he found out you were a virgin had taken you by surprise and somehow made Remus even more attractive in your eyes. His tendencies to pin you up against the door of his dorm and press his body impossibly close to yours as you made out hungrily only made you want him more, but he was just too respectful. You knew fully well how needy and horny he got before every full moon but he was just too respectful of your boundaries to do anything about it. You both loved and hated him for that same reason.

"You okay sweetheart?" Remus asks and you jump slightly at the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. You turn your head to face him and nod, smiling. He holds your gaze, the hand on your waist moving down to rest on your thigh, but your moment is broken by James, who jumps up, announcing "Well I'm off to get dressed for practice." Sirius nods, murmuring something incoherent and following James up. Peter gets up, leaving the common room to meet his girlfriend, and Remus sighs, saying something about changing out of his uniform. You nod, watching as your friends go up to their dorm, only to look back and meet Lily's gaze.

You avoid her relentless stare, bowing your head down to focus on your fiddling hands. It's only when James and Sirius come down from the stairwell leading up to their dorms that you look up again, and shooting one last quick look at Lily, who follows her boyfriend out of the common room, you get up. You knock twice on the boys' dorm room, waiting for Remus to call out "Come in!" And as soon as you do, your jaw drops.

You stare blatantly at your shirtless boyfriend who takes his time finding a jumper. At your silence, he turns to you, a silent chuckle leaving his lips. He proudly walks over to you and you have to will yourself to look up at his face instead of his shirtless figure. He raises a single eyebrow at you and you flush brightly, hands immediately going to his chest when he pushes you backwards against the closed door, hungrily kissing you, his tongue dipping into your mouth to claim control of the kiss. You moan, wrapping your arms around Remus' shoulders to deepen the kiss as his come down to tightly grip your ass. He breaks the kiss to start nibbling at the skin of your neck, and the little bits of your chest exposed by your shirt and he grinds into you, causing the both of you to moan.

He digs his head further into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. His hands continue to roam your body and he groans, pressing his hips flush against yours for you to feel how hard he is. "Tell me when you want me to stop." He sighs, continuing to grind his hips against yours. You shook your head, causing him to look up and cried "No! Don't stop. Please don't stop."

At your comment, Remus completely separates himself from you, pulling a desperate whine from you. "What?" His palms are now flat against the door by your head and he looks at you straight in the eyes, as though looking for an answer in them. "Don't- I don't want you to stop." You breath out, a hand coming up to rub the back of your neck. "Y/n what are you- are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" He double checks, blinking a couple of times, and you nod.

"Please Remus, I want you to fuck me." And for the first time in your relationship, Remus' whole face goes red, and he licks his bottom lip before pulling you towards him by your wrist. You squeal, your arms wrapping around him when his own wrap around your waist, so he can pick you up and throw you onto his bed. He goes back to roughly kissing you, softly grunting as he rolls his hips into yours. Finally, he unzips his pants, looking at you with a silent question, and you grin, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere. Remus blankly stares at your chest, his hands still on his trousers, and he shakes himself out of it, shimmying out of them before pouncing on you once more.

Remus gives attention to every inch of exposed skin on your body, pressing tiny kisses on your body and leaving a cold trail of saliva on you. His hands reach behind your back, and he fiddles with the clasp of your bra. You arch your back to make it easier for him, and when he finally undoes it, his hands go straight to cupping your tits and playing with them. He tugs at your nipples with you writhing under him, and puts one of them in his mouth, instantly beginning to suckle at it.

One of your hand trails down his back, digging your nails into his soft skin while the second grips his hair tightly. Remus groans when you tug at it, but continues his job of marking you as his. His hands start to wander again, this time finding themselves going lower and lower, until they trail under your skirt, fiddling with the hem of your underwear. His fingers hook themselves to the sides of your underwear and he slowly drags the fabric down your legs. His face dips under your skirt, and just as you move to prop yourself up on your elbows to see what happens, his biceps curl under your legs, pulling you towards him, and he buries his face in your cunt.

You cry out, Remus' tongue teasing your entrance as his nose bumps at your clit. You let your head fall back in pleasure, legs automatically trying to close shut when Remus switches to sucking and licking your clit, while his fingers start to dip inside you. His unoccupied hand is firmly pressed across your lower abdomen to keep your hips from bucking into his face. Slowly, he inserts one of his fingers inside your hole and you whimper, but Remus' hand on your stomach softly caresses your skin while he ensures your pleasure with his mouth. Another finger makes ints way inside you, and Remus begins to scissor them open inside you, stretching you out as you buck up into him.

Remus separates from your pussy to look up at you, and mutters a soft "You doing okay?" You nod, your eyes shut and you try adjusting yourself to his fingers. "No darling, I'm going to need a verbal response." You gasp the instant the discomfort from his fingers turn into pleasure and moan "Oh- I'm, I'm good." And Remus can't help but grin boyishly as the sight of you moaning on his fingers. He leans over, smashing his lips against yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue while he rotates his wrist in a way that keeps you desperate for him.

Finally, Remus completely pulls away from you, licking his fingers clean, while maintaining eye contact with you, and your eyes widen in shock. Remus sighs, running his eyes over your body and you self-consciously shut your legs, straightening up a little. He frowns, shaking his head. "No, come on, none of that." He places a hand on your knee, and your legs loosen up for him again. He smiles softly, both hands going back up to the waistband of his boxers. You gasp when his cock bounces up, slapping his stomach, and you're immediately thinking about how all of that's going to be inside of you.

Remus shuffles towards you and takes your last garment - your skirt - off. He starts rubbing your thighs with his big, veiny hands, and starts to reassure you. "Darling it'll be fine. It's going to be uncomfortable at the start, but I'm going to go easy on you, and if you want to stop, just say so." He looks at you, as though expecting a response, but you only shake your head at him. "Hey, remember what I said about needing words?" You nod quickly, then shake your head "Yeah I- sorry. No, it's okay."

Remus nods, lowering himself onto you and giving you a soft kiss on the lips. He's gentler now than he was before, slowly kissing you as he teases your entrance with the head of his cock. He only just realises how uncomfortably hard he's been this entire time and he groans, holding himself back from just sinking his whole cock into you. He pushes into you inch by inch, rocking back and forth to help you adjust to his size, while his hand tightly fists the rest of his dick. Your whimpers are swallowed by the kiss you share, and so are Remus' moans that come out every time you tug harshly on his hair, making him impossibly harder.

When he's completely inside you, he gives you a moment to get comfortable, and he bites his lip, his forehead falling against yours as his eyes tightly shut. It's his turn to whimper, the feeling of your tight pussy clamping on him practically begging him to start pounding into you. But he controls his urges, waiting for you to quietly give him the go ahead from under him. He exhales deeply and moans loudly when he starts to slowly roll his hips into yours, dragging his cock along your tight walls.

You let out a high pitched moan that has Remus drowning in pleasure, and his hand returns to your pussy, rubbing quick circles on your clit. "Shit." He whispers, when you beg him "Faster, please." And he does. He goes slightly faster, but it's enough to have you both nearing the edge. Remus connects your lips again, groaning into the kiss when your nails drag down his back, and the arm holding him up above you starts to shake. He focuses on your clit more, only slightly increasing his speed so you're both pushed over the edge at the same time.

"I'm so close. God sweetheart I can feel you squeezing me, are you gonna cum?" Whining at his words only encourages him to continue talking to you. "Be a good girl for me and cum on my cock. You're fucking making me crazy over here." And his words seem to have a positive effect on you by the way your leg twitches and your grip around him tightens. Remus holds back until your back is arching and you're screaming his name repeatedly for him to release inside you, his hips wildly rutting into you. He whimpers, leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth and sucks hard.

He prolongs your orgasm by continuing to buck into you and rubbing your sensitive clit, until you're pushing him away from you. Remus pulls out, his hand coming up to fist his dick, cum dribbling down onto your stomach. You moan at the sight as you catch your breath, staring at your boyfriend, his eyes shut in pleasure and his untameable hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. When he rides out his orgasm, he collapses next to you on his stomach, catching his breath.

You giggle, turning around so you're laying on your stomach, and a hand comes up to rub Remus' back. "I think it's supposed to be the other way around" Remus chuckles, turning on his side and pulling you closer to him by the waist. You grin, returning the kiss he gives you, and humming in satisfaction. "How was that?" He asks quietly, suddenly shy as insecurity makes its way onto his face. "It was amazing." You reply, bringing him into another kiss, which he breaks too early. "How about you let me go run a bath for you?" He asks, without giving you time to answer before getting up from beside you.

Your eyes widen as you watch him walk away, angry red scratch marks on his back staring right back at you. Despite that, you let yourself fall back on his bed, a wide grin making its way on your face when you think back about what had just happened.

God, Lily is going to scream when you tell her.

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wikiangela · 3 months ago

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fuck it friday

another snippet of the barbecue fic (aka another snippet of buck being horny for his boyfriend lmao I swear this is a wholesome fluffy family fic haha), this is my priority now, I wanna finish it soon so send all the motivation haha <3

prev snippet

___

“Behave.” He scolds with no heat behind it.

“Mhm, yessir.” Buck purrs, his lips moving across Tommy’s bare shoulder.

“Fuck.” Tommy breathes out and completely stills, and Buck can’t really see his face but he knows his boyfriend closed his eyes and is trying to calm down – which can’t be easy with Buck still plastered against his back. “This food is gonna burn if you keep this up. And we have guests to feed.” He adds, and as if to make a point, he flips a slightly overdone burger, Buck hindering his movements just a little bit.

Before he can respond, he hears another voice get through the chatter and music and reach his ears.

“Buck!” Chimney calls, and Buck looks over his shoulder to find everyone’s eyes on him, amused expressions on their faces. “Don’t distract our cook, we’re starving!”

“I’m just scolding him for taking his shirt off.” Buck says easily, then adds a little louder, to Tommy but making sure everyone hears, “Babe, you’re gonna burn yourself, you’re a firefighter, you should know better.” He shakes his head, and Tommy looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re gonna pretend like you don’t approve?”

“Oh, I so don’t, Tommy, at all.” Buck tries to keep a straight face, but a chuckle bubbles out of him anyway. “You’re such a distraction, this is dangerous for everyone here.”

“I think you’re the only one with that problem, Buckaroo.” Hen laughs, and only then Buck remembers everyone’s still paying attention to them. It’s so easy to get lost in Tommy, to feel like it’s just them, even in a crowd of people. So distracting. It’s a hazard, really. He should keep Tommy away from everyone, preferably locked in the bedroom with him, for everyone’s safety.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed):

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @bibuckkinard @spotsandsocks @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @bidisasterevankinard @hippolotamus @girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @dadbodbuck @kinkleydiaz @diazsdimples @aringofsalt

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months ago

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I wanna explore more on Evan and the coworker with a crush on him for the sole reason of having this guy be so oblivious to their advances cause all he can think about returning home after a long day to have passionate sex with his hot monster spouse. They're inviting him for lunch and he's already on the way to his car to spend every remaining second of his break with the love of his life. They ask him what he thinks of their new shirt that puts their chest on full display and Evan's wondering if a tee like that would come in his Darling's size. He'll hem one himself if he has to - he's just so stupidly in love with his angel that as soon they're not in his line of sight other people don't exist to him and I adore that about him.

The coworker is borderline a Yan/stalker for him too so it probably escalates to them following him home where they see monster darling in the flesh for what they truly are - likely while Evan is showing them his love in the best way he knows how. The coworker might try to tell other people around the office what they saw, but most simply brush them off as Evan has already told everyone about his spouse's "medical condition". Evan joins in on treating them like they've gone mad, but he is plotting cold blooded murder. Everyone thinks darling is the monster in their relationship, but they're likely to think otherwise when darling is put in danger.

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #male yandere #Evan my oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere headcanons #yandere husband

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nobitchs-world · 6 months ago

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My ancestors looking down at me as I talk about how much I love white men

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whore-ibly-hot · 2 months ago

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How would Mr. Critch, Mr. Murphy, Evan, and Carter react to Y/n getting sick?

(love your boarding school btw❤️)

(also I'm sick with a cold😫)

ARGHAHAHAHGG7RURH I LOVE SICK FICS!

Mr. Critch: He'd be extremely cross with you, what nerve of you to skip his class, is it because you think your special, being the head masters kid? He pulls Harrison aside, and demands the boy tell him why you aren't present. When Harrison explains, he scolds him harshly for not having you 'quarantined'. He quickly moves you to the nurses ward, wanting you to be away from contaminating others and full focused on making up the work you are missing. Still, he's oddly doting. He makes sure you're eating healthy, checking your fever and assuring you stay alongside him. He wants you obedient. He knows what's best, just let him treat you. He'll keep track of all your medicines, and the moment you're better he promises you can go back to your room with Harrison. He enjoys this quiet time with you, and a part of him, the one who reads to you while you try and sleep, wishes to imagine this moment as domestic.

"The fever should be breaking soon, it's okay." He dabs at your forehead. "I'll find a way to get you cleaned up after. I promise." He assures.

Carter: Much like Mr. Critch, he's strict about what you can do. As class president, it's his duty to prevent an outbreak. He'll bring you to the nurses office, and ensure you keep up with your studies. He's more condescending, constantly reminding you of how kind he's being, taking time out of his day to care for you when he could be working. You should be able to care for yourself, he'd say, but when you'd send him away, he'd refuse to go. He takes a little extra time 'diagnosing' you, it would help him for biology class, he claimed. He'd run his hands over your neck and shoulders, touching your chest and working his way down. He'd gently feel your head for fever.

"What?" He scoffs, looking at you with annoyance. "The nurse is far too busy to give you the treatment you need, I'm making sure you aren't worsening. Lift your shirt a bit, let's just continue the exam."

Evan: He's pissed. He just got out of a great fucking game, and you weren't even in the crowd, not even for Harrison. His cock was aching, he'd planned to drag you to the after party and get his dick into you, but you didn't show. He'll practically kick down your door, and he's quick about it once he realizes you're sick. He doesn't want Harrison being a bitch and trying to keep you in his room. He gets you to his dorm, gives you some cough syrup and an edible he snagged from Pez, to keep you mellow. If he can't fuck you, he's at least going to keep you around. You're still got, even with a red face and stuffy nose. He won't exactly be doting, you'd have to ask two or three times before he'd get you anything but water, but he does like the feeling of control he's got over you. He'd put on a movie and keep you on his lap, assuring you he's not gonna get sick. Let him kiss you while your sleepy, let him grope you while he changes you from your uniform to one of his oversized jerseys. And most importantly, he expects you to care for him when he gets sick from swapping spit with you.

"God, you're burning up. Good thing I brought you in here, huh? Wouldn't want that shit head roommate leaving you to suffer alone in your room when you got a big strong stud here to look after your sick ass." He groans, adjusting you so your head lays across his chest.

Mr. Murphy: Absolute caring bear man, you're immediately moved to wherever you feel safest, preferably his apartment at the school, but the nurses office or your own dorm works. If you choose his apartment, he'll be thrilled at spending the time with you, even though seeing you as a sick little thing makes his chest ache. He'd stand over the stove for hours, digging through old recipe cards from his mom. He's usually more of a meat and potatoes guy, but he'll try his mommas soup and roll recipes, just for you. He makes sure you take your medicine, but nothing you don't want to take. He refuses to let you think about your school work, and insists he'll excuse you and talk to Critch (he thinks that guy has a major stick up his ass). He's got the coziest place by far, thick quilts and a cozy plaid couch.

"Easy, kid, easy." You're desperate to chug down the soup, but he's pacing you. "If you do throw up cause of this bug you've got, that's fine, but I'd rather my cooking not be the cause. You've got all the time in the world to eat it, and I'll always make more if you want." He takes a spoonful from his bowl. "Don't make me feed ya now." He teases.

#ask me stuff #yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #x reader #yandere boy #tw.dubcon #oc Critch #oc Joel Murphy #oc evan #oc carter

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caplanbuckybarnes · 1 month ago

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Under the Stars (Steve Rogers)

Summary: You and Steve spend time together star gazing.

WC: 590ish

Warnings: Fluff

Read on Ao3!

The quiet hum of the city settled around you as you found yourself sitting on the rooftop of the Avengers Tower. The night sky was a deep velvet, dotted with stars that twinkled like diamonds. You leaned back on your hands, soaking in the cool breeze and the soft sounds of the city below. It was peaceful up here, away from the chaos of the world.

Steve Rogers joined you a moment later, the familiar sound of his boots softly hitting the rooftop breaking the tranquillity. He settled beside you, his presence warm and comforting. You glanced at him, the way the moonlight danced across his features, casting gentle shadows on his jawline.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he took in the view.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your heart fluttering as he turned to face you. “But I think the stars are even brighter up here.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that charming way that always made your heart skip. “You’re not just saying that because I’m here, are you?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No. It’s just… it feels special. Like the universe is reminding us of all the good things.”

His expression softened as he looked at you. “You know, I used to think I understood what it meant to be a hero, and Captain America. But being with you has shown me that there’s so much more to it.”

You turned to him fully, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he began, pausing to gather his thoughts, “being a hero isn’t just about fighting battles and crimes. It’s about the people you fight for. And you… you make everything worth it, you always have.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the weight of his words settled between you. You felt your cheeks flush, and you looked away, tracing patterns in the concrete with your eyes.

“Steve, I—”

Before you could finish, he gently turned your face back to him, his blue eyes searching yours. “I hope the heavens know how much I adore you,” he said softly, sincerity flooding his voice. 'I hope they know I would do anything in my power to show you how deeply I care about you."

Your heart raced at his confession. You could see the truth in his eyes; in that moment, the world around you faded away. All that existed was the two of you, suspended in time under the vast expanse of the universe.

“I adore you too,” you whispered, barely able to contain the swell of emotion rising within you.

A grin spread across his face, transforming his features with a boyish charm. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned into his hand instinctively.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he asked, nodding towards the sky.

You smiled, your heart swelling with hope. “What should I wish for?”

“Maybe for more nights like this,” he suggested, his voice low and intimate.

You took a deep breath, letting the moment wash over you. “I think I’ll wish for you,” you said, your heart laid bare. “Always.”

With that, Steve leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. The connection felt electric, and the air between you crackled with unspoken promises.

“Always,” he echoed, and at that moment, under the watchful gaze of the stars, you both knew that this was just the beginning.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x ofc #chris evans fandom #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fandom

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eccentricallygothic · 3 months ago

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The Interrogation

Pairing: Captain America!Steve Rogers | Villain!Reader.

Description: Steve had finally caught you, and he knew just how to make you talk.

Warning(s): Dark undertones because it's me, interrogation through fucking, unprotected p-in-v intercourse, slapping, spanking, pinching, biting, exhibitionism, cock riding, dacryphilia, overstimulation and mentioned orgasm denial, hair pulling, degradation. Minors do not interact.

Type: Request (anon), here.

Note: Villains in general are my jam so I loved this. Sorry this is so late. Hope you like it still <3

Half a choked gasp fluttered past your lips as the remaining half was eaten by the sob you let out right after, droplets of the tears that stained your stinging cheeks spraying out from the vibration of the sound waves escaping your mouth.

“Please!” Your back arched and a vein in your thighs twitched, causing the limb to start jittering as your knees pushed deeper into the chair your impaler was relaxing against while you cried and mutilated your dignity in front of all the main S.H.I.E.L.D staff that were cloaked behind the two-way mirror of the interrogation room. “Oh!” Your hair whipped a near revolution around your lolling head when your defiler's rough fingers cracked against your soft and wet cheek once more.

Your pussy was so stretched. Oh… The consciousness of how Steve Roger's cock had your intimates spread so wide around his hot, leaking and stone hard cock made you feel uneasy when you imagined the state of your entrance. Despite how the contact of his palm felt against your face, the manner in which he so humiliatingly deprived you of such a basic bodily function as breathing, the infuriating condensation with which he pinched and fondled your exposed chest and the sheer degradation in the way he did all this in front of his people for no good reason than making you rat, you only clenched harder and slapped your ass against his muscular thighs faster. Your tears flowed at the same rate as the speed with which you imparted upon him the information that was so dear to your ambitions.

The ratting was not the worst part though.

No.

That was the fact that despite your initial attempts to make it look like you were unwilling, that the cruel Captain was forcing his depraved will onto you, that S.H.I.E.L.D was nothing but a bunch of glorified goons, your tears were not of disgust or denial, much to your own surprise.

Rather, they were ones of pure, bubbling and desperate need; frustration.

For just one more orgasm. Another bittersweet climax to add to the many you had had ever since Steve saw through your design; took matters into his own hands. Yet another chase through the agony of your swollen petals squelching and sucking away at the painfully prominent veins of his dick.

“Say it for me, brat” his smooth deep voice cut through you like needle penetrates cotton. Your loins closed in on themselves. So close. “Tell your Captain the name” with the way his cold blue eyes that drowned in the nimbostratus of his lust watched you, his rough fingers groped your spanked ass and guided your aching hips into yet another oscillation on his cock, your fucked out brain was forced to register his words as the only truth you knew; the only law that existed.

“C- Captain!” The word faintly stung your tongue as the mind unleashes a sensory revolt against one who betrays his conditioning. “C- Cap–!” It was the result of his torturing you before granting you your first orgasm of the session that you had willingly shattered your own dignity and accepted his command as well as title.

Were you really to blame?

When it hurt this good?

“Say it for me, baby” he nearly whispered the pet name as he sat up straighter and pressed his nose to yours to steal a rough kiss which your hair hid from everyone else, one of his manly hands abandoning their station on your hip to trail up the side of your body to find a grip between the strands of your hair and against your scalp. You cried harder as your head collapsed against his. The readjustment of his body had pushed him balls deep inside you. “Say it for your Captain and he will give you what you need most” and that was all you needed to hear before you gave out the name of the brains of your operation.

Steve didn't have to. He really didn't. It was the disdainful curl of Fury's lip that proved it. But the Captain finally brought his muscular thighs into motion and rocked his hips to abuse your sensitive spot with his tip so to make you cry, his fingers pulled your head back and out of his way so he could latch his hot lips onto that one spot that he had discovered right under your ear, his other hand now departed from your hips because his own had taken over, and his thumb glided over your cunt in a way that made your melted brain spin. Your myopic vision gyrated and an animalistic cry rose up from your aching epiglottis. It was barely audible but full of the hot air that your tense lungs had been compressing.

Your weak body nearly keeled over and hit the ground from the orgasm that quaked through your muscles and organs. You shivered and shuddered, your arched form hanging from his cock that his strong legs bounced you on furiously. It was all so much. Too much. You had reached a point where the sharp and barbaric bite of his teeth on your erect nipples was barely noticeable to you because of how fugue you had become on his cock.

Your brain shut down. Whatever happened next was nothing but blurry glimpses of fleeting moments that raced by you. Every second felt like an eternity and the pulling of your limbs and the unbearable echoing of voices inside your head made you wince. You grunted and whined when your sex disconnected from the base of your impaler's cock with a pop loud enough that even you registered it.

You felt your body being dragged. The cells. You didn't have to see it to know it. They were the only fate of your like in this organization. You took a mindless glance behind you and a number of thoughts wormed their way into your disintegrated consciousness.

Did the Captain stare at every offender's dragging away with that primal hunger in his cold blue eyes? Was it routine for his own personal team to deprive a prisoner of their clothes without providing them with a uniform in their stead? Were all your fellow inmates suspended to the ceiling with their hands handcuffed to the chain hanging from it? Was solitary confinement necessary for all new convicts?

Or was it a special courtesy bestowed solely upon you by the Captain and his team?

Something told you that you would find out.

And very soon.

#steve rogers smut #captain america smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #chris evans #chris evans characters

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imthebadguyyy · 17 days ago

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Iron Hearts

With the same fire and charm that runs in the Stark bloodline, you’ve never been one to fade into the background.

pairing : steve rogers x reader fandom : mcu synopsis : As Tony Stark’s younger sister, you’ve always shared his brilliance and bold personality. Outgoing, witty, and never afraid to speak your mind, you’re just as comfortable stealing the spotlight as your brother is. But when Tony ropes you into joining the Avengers' operations after the Chitauri invasion, the last thing you expect is to clash with Captain America, Steve Rogers—a man so different from the fast-paced world you’re used to. Steve’s stoic, old-fashioned values collide with your free-spirited nature, sparking a connection that’s as electric as it is infuriating. As the Avengers face new threats, you and Steve find yourselves drawn together in unexpected ways, each challenge bringing you closer. The world is always in need of saving—but will the Iron legacy and a shielded heart leave room for something more?

EPISODE 1 : COLLIDE

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The low hum of machinery filled your private lab, a familiar and soothing backdrop to the glow of various monitors and the holographic interface suspended above your desk. You were in your element here—surrounded by sleek gadgets, circuits, and blueprints only you understood. The soft, sterile light of the fluorescent bulbs bathed everything in a cool hue, making the outside world feel distant, almost irrelevant. Your hands moved with practiced precision, making the final tweaks to your latest invention—something sleek, cutting-edge, and powerful. It was not for public eyes, least of all Tony’s. Let him bask in the glory of his Iron Man suits and his public heroism. You preferred working in the shadows, away from the spotlight. After all, the real power came from the things people didn’t see.

Just as you were about to run another test, FRIDAY’s calm, computerized voice broke the silence. “Incoming call—Tony Stark.”

You let out a small, exasperated sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Of course Tony would interrupt now, just when you were getting into the groove. Without breaking your stride, you gestured toward the nearest screen, signaling FRIDAY to patch the call through.

Tony’s face flickered to life on the screen, his usual cocky grin already plastered across his face. He looked annoyingly well-rested for someone who constantly threw himself into world-saving chaos.

“Hey, sis. Got a minute?” His tone was casual, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Tony always had an ulterior motive.

“Not for you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched with a slight smile. You’d perfected the art of giving Tony a hard time over the years. “What do you need, Tony?”

“Can’t a brother call to check on his favorite sibling?” He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “We both know I’m your only sibling.”

“Touché,” he admitted, chuckling softly. "But seriously, I need you."

You froze momentarily, your hand hovering over the interface. Tony rarely outright asked for help, and when he did, you knew it was big. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave him your full attention.

“I need my secret weapon,” Tony added, his voice dropping to that tone he used when he really wanted something.

You blinked at him, skeptical. “Secret weapon? Tony, I’m not about to be your backup tech support.”

Tony grinned, undeterred by your resistance. "This isn’t just tech support. It’s big. New team, new mission, bigger stakes. And who better to help me keep this bunch in line than you?"

You hesitated, glancing at the half-finished prototype on your desk. For years, you’d operated under the radar, happy to let Tony soak up the limelight. Being his sister came with a certain level of scrutiny you’d avoided like the plague. You preferred the quiet. The idea of stepping into the Avengers' world—especially now—seemed chaotic at best.

“I’m not suiting up, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you finally said, narrowing your eyes at him. The last thing you needed was to get dragged into one of his world-saving escapades in some shiny new armor.

“Of course not,” Tony grinned, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that told you he wasn’t ruling anything out entirely. “Just come to the Tower, meet the team. If you hate it, you can go back to hiding in your lab and pretending you’re not a genius like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the thought lingered. A new team? A new mission? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. If things went south, you could always disappear back into the shadows. But something in Tony’s tone hinted at urgency, something serious brewing on the horizon. He wasn’t just calling for fun. He needed you.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed off from the desk. “Fine. But this better not be some ploy to get me into an Iron suit.”

Tony’s smirk widened. “No promises.”

The call ended with a flicker of the screen, and you were left standing in the soft hum of your lab, the weight of Tony’s request hanging in the air. You glanced at your half-finished prototype one last time before grabbing your jacket, muttering under your breath, “What have I gotten myself into?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Later, at Avengers Tower, you stepped into the grand lobby, the space sprawling before you like something out of a futuristic movie. Towering glass walls reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling effect that made the entire room shimmer. High-tech displays blinked with data and notifications, while sleek metallic accents added to the modernity. It was a world apart from your cozy lab, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how Tony had truly outdone himself with this place. The grandeur was impressive, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, a sense of unease settling in as you stepped further inside.

Just as you took another step, a voice sliced through the air behind you, cool and assessing. “So you’re the sister Tony doesn’t like to talk about.”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding slightly at the sight of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his muscular frame radiating authority. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was an edge to it—a mix of skepticism and something akin to wariness. He looked you up and down, his gaze critical, and you could already sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface. He thought you were just another Stark, another piece in Tony’s ego-driven game.

“And you’re the soldier out of time,” you replied, matching his coolness with your own. The words felt sharper than you intended, a defensive instinct kicking in. “Nice to meet you.”

Steve offered a tight nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t smile. “Tony’s told me a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” you shot back, a hint of a smirk dancing on your lips. But Steve’s expression remained unyielding, the weight of his gaze unwavering.

“I’m not here to judge,” he stated, but his eyes bore into you, steady and measuring, as if he were trying to peel back layers of your identity with sheer will alone. “Just here to see if you’re serious.”

“Serious?” You scoffed, your heart racing with indignation. “About what?”

“About helping, about doing what’s right. We’ve got enough egos on this team.”

Your smirk faded, replaced by a flash of frustration. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know your brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Tony,” you retorted, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension between you crackled in the air, palpable and thick. You hated the feeling of being judged before someone even bothered to know you, and clearly, Steve didn’t like the idea of another Stark stepping into the fold.

For a moment, silence engulfed you, and you could almost hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The intensity of Steve’s gaze felt like a spotlight, and you wondered if he could see through your facade, exposing the vulnerabilities you kept hidden. You could sense his protective instincts flaring, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, and somehow, you felt like an outsider even though you were family.

Just as the tension threatened to spiral further, Tony strolled into the room, an air of nonchalance enveloping him. “Hey, you two! Getting along already?” His grin was impossibly wide, brightening the atmosphere even as it made the air around you feel heavier with unresolved tension.

You shot Tony a glare that could’ve cut through steel. This was not the time for his usual bravado. Steve merely shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to contain a smile. “We’ll see,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on you, as if he were weighing the likelihood of your success in this new venture. Then, with a final, assessing glance, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Great. This is off to a fantastic start,” you muttered under your breath, a mixture of annoyance and apprehension churning inside you. The day had barely begun, and already you could feel the weight of expectation bearing down on you. As the lobby buzzed with the energy of heroes and high-tech innovation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope, teetering between proving yourself and succumbing to the shadows that felt all too familiar.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, reminding yourself that you were here to help. No matter what Steve Rogers thought, you had your own strengths, your own path to carve in this world. You just had to figure out how to make them see that.

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The air in the war room was thick with tension as Tony briefed you on the mission, his voice crisp and urgent. “So here’s the deal: leftover Chitauri tech has been activated by HYDRA operatives in the city. It’s supposed to be a routine clean-up mission, but we know better than to underestimate anything HYDRA gets their hands on.” His brow furrowed, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach knot.

You listened intently, nodding as he laid out the plan. But as he insisted you tag along—even if just to observe and assess—you felt a mix of excitement and dread. You weren’t officially part of the team, yet here you were, being dragged into the chaos by your brother’s unwavering belief in your abilities.

When you arrived at the scene, the streets were already in chaos. The sounds of sirens blared, drowning out the shouts of frantic civilians being evacuated. Smoke billowed into the air, curling around toppled cars and shattered glass. You felt a chill run down your spine as you surveyed the destruction.

Amid the chaos, Steve barked orders at the rest of the team, his authoritative voice cutting through the noise like a beacon of hope. You hung back, monitoring the situation from a mobile unit that Tony had rigged up for you—a lifeline of information in a storm of uncertainty.

“Stay behind the lines!” Steve called out to you over his shoulder, his tone firm as he and Natasha led the charge into the fray.

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and determination bubbling inside you. "I know what I’m doing, Captain," you shot back, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The last thing you wanted was to be coddled like a helpless child.

Just as the fight erupted, the atmosphere shifted. A crackling energy surged through the air, and before you could process the threat, one of the HYDRA operatives unleashed a pulse from the Chitauri device. The wave of electricity shot toward you, a blinding flash of danger that sent adrenaline coursing through your veins.

In that split second, everything shifted. Time seemed to slow as you braced for impact, your instincts screaming at you to move, to do something—anything. But before you could react, Steve surged forward like a force of nature. He slammed his shield into the ground with a resounding thud, creating a barrier that absorbed the surge of energy before it could reach you.

You stumbled back, wide-eyed, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you like a tidal wave. Steve turned to you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. “I said stay behind,” he said, his voice clipped, but there was a hint of protectiveness that made your heart race.

“I had it under control,” you snapped back, though deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. You felt a surge of embarrassment rising within you, the remnants of the adrenaline making you defensive.

Steve didn’t argue further, but his gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to gauge the depths of your resolve. The moment stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, and you could sense a silent acknowledgment between you—this was new territory for both of you, a fragile thread connecting your destinies.

But as quickly as it had come, the moment shattered. With a final look that communicated both concern and determination, Steve charged back into the fray, his shield raised high as he fought against the chaos. You stood there, heart racing, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—frustration, admiration, and a flicker of fear for what lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you refocused on the task at hand. You weren’t going to let this moment define you. You had to prove to yourself, and to Steve, that you belonged here—among heroes and legends. The fight was just beginning, and you were ready to carve your place in it.

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The mission concluded in a flurry of activity and relief, but the tension between you and Steve lingered in the air like an unresolved chord. Back at the Tower, you settled in front of the computer, the glow of the screen casting an almost ethereal light across your face as you replayed footage of the battle. Each frame brought back the chaos—the electricity crackling, the screams of civilians, and Steve’s shield slamming into the ground just in time to save you. The rush of adrenaline from earlier mixed with a more unsettling feeling as you examined the moment you almost lost everything.

As you scrolled through the footage, you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Steve; the weight of his gaze felt palpable, a steady warmth that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the battle you had just fought. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the soft light of the hallway, watching you with a quiet intensity.

“You handled yourself well out there,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere, cutting through the silence that surrounded you.

Surprised, you glanced up at him, momentarily meeting his gaze. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice a mix of pride and humility.

“But next time,” he continued, the firmness returning to his tone, “don’t make me have to save you.”

A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips, a spark of your trademark confidence flaring up in response. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t,” you shot back, your tone light, though beneath it was a current of seriousness.

Steve didn’t respond immediately, his expression shifting as he studied you. In his blue eyes, you caught a flicker of something deeper—perhaps a grudging respect, maybe even a hint of admiration. It made your heart flutter unexpectedly, a rush of warmth that was both thrilling and confusing. The Captain of America saw you, and for a moment, the weight of expectations from being Tony Stark's sister lifted, replaced by a connection that felt genuine.

He nodded once, a subtle acknowledgment of the moment shared between you, before turning to leave. As he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just another fleeting exchange. You were carving out your own space in this team, proving that you were more than just Tony’s sister—you were a force to be reckoned with in your own right.

Left alone in the dim light of the lab, you turned back to the screen, but your thoughts were no longer on the footage. Instead, your mind lingered on Steve’s quiet strength, his unwavering resolve. You were beginning to understand that there was more to him than just the Captain—the man behind the shield had his own battles, his own vulnerabilities.

And you felt an undeniable pull towards him, a sense of camaraderie that was slowly transforming into something deeper. The mission had ended, but the journey was just beginning, and you were more determined than ever to prove yourself—not just to Steve, but to the entire team.

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The mission had been a success, but the moment Steve saw you—Tony’s sister—standing there, he felt the weight of responsibility tugging at his heart. He knew you had potential; he’d seen you handle yourself with surprising skill, but he wasn’t prepared for how much the little spark in your eyes got under his skin.

Leaning against the doorway, he watched you replay the footage of the battle. You were focused, your brow furrowed in concentration, and it captivated him. You radiated a unique blend of confidence and determination, much like your brother, yet with a warmth that was distinctly your own.

When he finally spoke, telling you that you handled yourself well out there, he truly meant it. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a mix of admiration and wariness wash over him. You were Tony’s sister—his little sister. He recalled the stories Tony had told him about your childhood, the sibling rivalry, and how fiercely protective Tony had always been of you. That instinct felt like a wall between them, even as he felt drawn to you.

“Don’t make me have to save you,” he warned, hoping to impress upon you the importance of caution. He had seen too many people underestimate their enemies, and he didn’t want you to be another victim of that recklessness.

Your response—light and teasing—pulled a small smile from him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t.” It was infuriating how effortlessly you seemed to deflect his concern. You had a spark that reminded him of Tony, but there was something more disarming about you. Something that made it hard for him to maintain his composure.

He nodded, more to himself than to you, before he turned to leave. He didn’t want to admit how much your presence affected him, how he found you attractive in a way that made him question everything he knew about focusing on the mission. But he also understood that getting involved with Tony’s sister could complicate things—complicate his already tangled life.

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As the days turned into weeks, you became a more permanent fixture in the Tower, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic team dynamic. Watching you interact with the others was eye-opening. You had Tony’s quick wit, but there was a warmth in your approach that brought out the best in everyone.

He remembered a moment during a team meeting when Clint made a joke at your expense. Without missing a beat, you shot back, “If you’re going to insult me, at least make it clever.” The room erupted in laughter, and Steve found himself chuckling along, secretly impressed by your tenacity.

But the more time he spent with you, the more he struggled with his feelings. You were intelligent, fiercely capable, and incredibly brave—qualities he admired. Yet every time he looked at you, he felt the ghost of Tony’s protective nature hovering over them. He could practically hear Tony warning him to keep his distance, reminding him that you were off-limits. It was a mental tug-of-war, and every glance between them only heightened his awareness of how close they were getting.

One evening, you both worked late in the lab. He caught you watching him as he threw punches at a training dummy, a curious smile dancing on your lips. It was a moment of connection, but it also made his heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you were trouble, yet there was something about you that drew him in, like a moth to a flame.

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a/n : so this is new series im experimenting with!! not proofread. any comments tips suggestions you have would be highly appreciated. happy reading!!