#steve rogees x reader smut

[imaginedreamwrite]

Breach Of Contract: Part 9

A/N: Peggy Carter bashing as usual

You felt anxious before the plane had even touched down. It started with your palms sweating and your heart racing, the steady uptick in beating had been a synonymous symptom of your changing emotional well-being.

Senator Rogers had departed your side a half hour ago, leaving you to get a briefing of the events that would take place the first night you arrived.

He had left for the back of the plane to make a few adjustments to his wardrobe and his physical appearance. In his absence, you were welcome to fall into a pit of anxiety and restlessness, the debilitating awareness that you were going to face the media as both his intern and as some specimen, they wanted to shove under a microscope.

You knew, full well, that the connection between you and Steve had been noted by both likely supporters and opposition.

You knew full well that comments were comparing the kind of chemistry you two had, versus the kind of blasé and underwhelming bond that tied Steve and Peggy together. The evidence of support or animosity had already been noticed through different socials and handles on the vast internet.

However now you were going to have to face it head-on.

Pepper had made you aware of the media circus, of the absolute hell and chaos that would ensue once Senator Rogers touched the ground. It was only natural given the attacks that the other party was trying to unleash on him in order to dissuade the public from voting for the necessary parties to vote him in. It was rather nasty, from what you had already seen and it was only going to act as gasoline for this insane and innate fire that would be all-consuming.

Once he set foot on the tarmac, the press tour started. There would be no shortage of events that would aid Senator Roger’s message for unity in the country, and the need to help each other out rather than turning our backs on each other.

The start of the press tour on the west coast would start the moment he stepped off the plane and the docket had started to take place with the first flash of a camera. Senator Rogers was ready, he was prepared with a level head and an assurance that he could and would handle whatever was thrown his way.

“I hope you’re ready.” Chase had given you a forewarning as the process to off-board was starting. “We’re coming behind him and immediately going to the hotel.”

You reached for the bag you’d packed, one of the carry-ons with little inside other than a quick change of clothes and a few books, hesitating when you felt hands grazing your own. Given the last chance to give you a pep talk, Steve lifted the bag from the overhead compartment for you and set it on the floor.

Inhaling slowly, you focused on the scent of his cologne and the tinge of spice that made you want to turn into him for comfort. He was strong and broad-shouldered but he carried so much warmth with him, warmth that you wanted to surround yourself.

“Take a deep breath, don’t let them get in your head.” He whispered, he whispered gently as if the roles were reversed and you were the one who was going to be facing the onslaught of the media circus.

“I’m scared.” You replied with a mumble, unable to turn and face him, at least not while the doors were prepared to be opened.

“Fear is not a weakness.” Steve had pulled away when it was time for him to settle into his role, and after he stepped away you looked over your shoulder and locked eyes with him. It was only a moment, it was barely half a minute before he had to turn away but it was enough.

And then the door opened, a powerful vortex of questions and the steady click of cameras had come rushing to your ears before he had even stepped out. He had upped out of your line of sight although you could easily detect the cacophonous drone from the tarmac.

“We have to go, we have to face it.” Val and Sasha both stepped by your seat, the latter helping you pick up your bag and the files you’d been scouring over. “We’re right here with you.”

The buzz that you heard on the plane was tepid compared to being on the tarmac with a line of press, different media cycles and online avenues for gossip and information vying to get his attention. It was as if you were in a wind tunnel, being accosted by the piercing noise that hit your ears with an unseemly tangency that made you grit your teeth.

“Senator Rogers reaches the LAX airport with his team in tow-“

“Senator Rogers is starting the tour here on the west coast and is said to be attending a few ceremonies-“

“The excitement for the senator to arrive has boiled over and quite a crowd has been drawn. Now I’ve been told-“

You could remain ignorant to the questions as Steve had stopped by a few press junkets as the start of his tour commenced. However, when you started hearing questions fired off at you, you were not as poised and collected as the Senator.

“Y/N! Y/N do you have any responses to the fans and supporters of Madame Carter who have accused you of interfering in their marriage?” A reporter for a popular online gossip outlet had raised their voice to garner your attention, and immediately you were thrown off guard.

You were a deer in headlights, eyes wide and tongue-tied. Your mind was not cooperating with your vocal cords or your motor skills, you couldn’t move or respond in any possible facet. Rather, you were stuck where you stood with your fingers tapping on the inside of your hands.

And when you finally could speak, when you finally found yourself able to produce a sound, it came out as a stuttering and weak response.

“I’m…I don’t-“ you were steered away, set into the protective side of Chase and Val.

“Ignore them. Keep your head down and move. Act normal.” Chase squeezed your hand and led you off to the vehicles waiting for the support team. He opened the door and watched you slide into the back beside Val before he joined you, the other vehicle held out for Pepper, Sasha and Steve.

“This is madness. It’s chaos-” you rest your head in your hands, your eyes closing for a single moment to gather your thoughts.

You weren’t prepared for this, even with all the warning and prep you’d been doing it wasn’t expected. This was your first real, true job as a PR intern for a major political campaign, and maybe it was your naivety that made you ignorant, but you didn’t know it would be like this.

“The first day and I feel like I’ve been dumped into the Arctic Ocean.” You lowered your hands, watching aimlessly as Senator Rogers approached the lead vehicle and took a pause to wave once more at the crowds.

“We have the night off. Sasha, Pepper & the Senator are going to do a kickoff press conference, so…” Chase leaned in and nudged your arm with his. “Come to my hotel room, we’ll order food and watch B-rated movies.”

“As long as you promise not to start sexting your boyfriend. The last time you invited us over, we got a deeply personal insight into your sex life, and we didn’t want it.” Val leaned forward and directed her attention to Chase, the two of them continuing their ease back and forth until the driver started taking off from the airport.

As the vehicle moved, you leaned back against the seat and angled your head, staring out the window at the masses of people or reporters who were still recording or taking pictures of the envoy.

It was endless or seemed to be and you wondered, at any point, if you would be on the receiving end of Madame Carter’s hatred in person.

“The press tour started eventfully,” the fabricated crooning which once had brought him to his knees had now been a nail upon glass to his ears, “are you enjoying playing with your intern?”

“Peggy quit.” Steve drew out his annoyance with a sharp hiss when his wife’s comments, through a picture-perfect screen, had come across as hypocritical at best. “We’re not doing this.”

“Not doing what, Steve? You’re not screwing around with a younger woman while your wife is doing charity work?” Peggy leaned forward tucking her hand under her chin, her long deep brown hair was pinned to the top of her head in a style that was as calculated as she was.

Peggy was unbothered by the weight of her affairs, by the notion that while Steve wanted to change the world for the better she wanted to acquire an endless stream of power and money for herself.

It was a reality that was more of a nightmare, the idea that she could have used Steve so easily and not found fault in the irony that she was committing physical adultery. Steve, in comparison, felt like he was genuinely falling in love with someone incredible.

“Where’s he hiding? Where do you have him this time? The closet?” Steve blew out the accusation with animosity, and disgust hanging off every syllable until his mouth was coated with bitterness.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Peggy’s lips were drawn back into a smirk, a slow-building quirk riddled with heinousness, “I should remind you…”

His heart sank and his hands were balled into tight fists by his side.

He didn’t need to know what toxic spewing ire she would fire off at him to know that it was another tactic for control. Steve knew that she and her family, who had promised so much for the man who wanted to be a great politician and make a difference, were trying to tighten the strings and spin this discourse between the two of them into a positive light.

“It’s in your little whore’s contract that if she fucks anyone in her circle she’ll be fired.” It felt like a victory for her, Steve could see it written clearly.

Every shadow and highlight on her aesthetically pleasing face, her natural beauty and charisma that charmed more than just him, was now twisted.

Every facet of her that he once loved was tainted and obliterated by this poisonous facet that made him hate her. It was despicable, it was beyond what he thought he could handle. Peggy Carter and Pierce’s were fucking with what little glimmer of happiness he could have.

“Make sure you’re a good boy, Steve. Don’t put your dick in anything that could get you into trouble.”The irony, cruel and twisted, befell him.

He was finding happiness but couldn’t step over the line they drew in the sand. It was a method of torture to keep him in their distinctive clutch, and Steve was caught between letting himself chase the glimmer of hope and squandering it all.

“I wanted to change the world, Peggy. I wanted to do good and be good. I wanted a loving wife and kids to come home to, I wanted the American dream and you-”

“I told you to fuck her, didn’t I?” Steve’s heart sank, the acid in his stomach churning as he rendered himself stuck on this terrorizing notion that if he chased you, physically seeking you, you would be ruined. “Guess you better keep your dick clean.”

He wanted to call her a bitch, he wanted to call her a hypocritical whore for this cage she was forcing him into. Steve wanted to rip into her, endlessly tearing her in two through the screen, and yet all he could do was stare at this vile poisonous snake.

She was fucking every intern she had and dangling up above him like a carrot in front of a horse.

Peggy Carter was holding everything from him.

“I’m not letting you go, Steve. I still need you and you need me, my family, to get what you want. Who knows…maybe when I become the First Lady I’ll give you the whore as a gift. You could keep her locked under the Oval Office to suck dick for all I care-”

Steve closed the screen with a snap, using enough force to crack the screen. He stood violently and reacted in anger, swiping everything from the desk to the floor. Bile was crawling up his throat, stinging his esophageal system from the inside. His heart was thrashing violently as he continued the destruction, seeking an outlet for himself.

And as he finished, as he had spent all the anger he had, Steve slowly slid down the wall nearest the window. He drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face in his hands, slowly exhaling.

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[stellar-solar-flare]

Volatile | Chapter 2/3 | Steve Rogers x Reader

Explicit - 18+ only - Minors DNI.

Steve Rogers returns from a mission only to be immediately alerted about a medical emergency: you, the Avengers Initiative's leading science expert, have been hit by a potent, unknown aphrodisiac on your own mission. Pressed for time and out of options, he has to, together with the AI's medical department, figure out a solution.

Mutual pining, smut with feelings, eventual happy ending.

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, sex pollen, non-consensual exposal to sex pollen, dubious consent because Reader is under the influence of an aphrodisiac (but all sex is very much mutually wanted), protective & possessive Steve Rogers, Captain kink, praise kink, very light dom/sub elements, dirty talk, pet names, thigh riding, finger sucking, mention of non-con.

Reader specifics: She/her. Works as a science specialist in AI under codename Dr. Chiral for her chemistry proficiency. Six times PhD, an Avenger. Late twenties, no description of appearance given.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

<< Previous chapter

Chapter 2: Flammable

Chapter notes: This is just smut with some feelings thrown in. Read the content warnings before divign in, please, and do not proceed if any of that isn't for you.

6,198 words.

As Steve stepped through the airlock into the dim-lit containment room, you untangled yourself from the tangled sheets on the king size bed. The air condition was blasting but despite that, the only thing you had on was a white, thin t-shirt type hospital gown that was not doing a damn thing to hide your peaking nipples. It fell onto your mid-thigh, and while under some other circumstances, it might’ve been reasonably modest, right now it clung onto your damp skin tighter than a bathing suit as you moved to sit on your knees on the bed. There was a feverish glaze clouding your eyes as Steve locked the airlock door behind himself. Other than the bed and a small desk with a chair, there was a table loaded with water bottles and some fruit and protein bars you had obviously not even touched. The muted color scheme – a neutral combination of blues, greys and whites made the room feel like a hotel room or a set in a movie. The bed you sat on was a small ocean of tangled satin sheets, and the thought of you rolling in those in feverish wanton need…

“Steve,” you said, your throat dry.

His eyes raked over you, ever so slowly, and as he did, he saw your breath quicken. You didn’t seem to really believe that he was there. Maybe you had fantasized about this before he had stepped in. Maybe you had fantasized about him. Even with everything you’d said on the tape, all the things you wanted him to do to you that were now playing on repeat in his head, he just wasn’t quite sure he could believe that it wasn’t just the aphrodisiac talking.

But whether you wanted him for anything beyond this room or for just this moment, it was clear you trusted him. You trusted him to help you out in this situation, with something this incredibly intimate and volatile and vulnerable, and there was no force in the universe that would’ve made him deny you. Especially when that meant that he could touch you. There was no other reasonable solution to this. That choice had been taken away from him, and that meant he could let go. And maybe… Just maybe…

I was too much of a coward to tell you in Verona. That made two of you. And this certainly wasn’t the way he had envisioned this going down but he would be lying if he said that whatever that was coming was a task he was reluctant to take on. His eyes stayed on your naked, glistening thighs like he’d been possessed. The room reeked of you, the pheromones of your arousal whispering sweet invitation to him, and Steve gathered every last shred of his self-control as he reached for a water bottle on the table with one hand and put the shield down to lean against the wall with the other.

“Hey, Ace,” Steve whispered. “You asked for me.”

You blinked at the sound of his voice and scooted to the edge of the bed, standing up. It could’ve been a hallucination conjured up by your feverish brain. And you could’ve hallucinated a lot worse than Steve stepping through the airlock of the room in the stealth suit of all things. But his voice sounded familiar – it echoed through your hazed state like a beacon in the night. You had been aching for him, for his touch, every last bit of your soul and body calling out for him. And he had heard. He had come to you.

“Are you here?” you whispered back, trying to make sense of it.

He hadn’t been there in the lab. There had been only Bucky, and Sam, and both had smelled wrong. Both had been wrong. You wanted just Steve; you had always wanted just him. Verona. Moonlight. Words that seemed to have no bearing to anything that was happening now when the only thing your throbbing blood was saying was Steve. You weren’t sure if you had been waiting for him for hours or for days or for centuries or for seconds, lying on the bed and floating in the half-delusional myriad of fantasies, touching yourself to the images of him but feeling no relief to the burning.

“I am, doll,” Steve said. “I’m yours if you want me. And only if you want me. The second you tell me to stop, I will.”

No. You absolutely weren’t going to do that. No chance in hell, when you finally had him.

Even in the small room, walking up to him seemed to take an eternity. His scent was faintly of musk and leather, mixed with something and something that might’ve been blood. It blended seamlessly into the deep, masculine note of the sandalwood-based cologne he always wore, blended with cedar and cypress and rosewood; a fresh forest smell that made your mouth water. In stealth suit, fresh from a mission. Shoulders accentuated by the uniform cut, wide chest above a flat stomach, strong thighs, large hands. He was the epitome of the masculine V shape, and he was yours. In the stealth suit.

By the time you reached him, you were barely able to hold yourself upright on your shaking legs. But Steve would’ve never let you fall. Before your legs could give underneath you, his free arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to rest against his body. The pleasantly cool, smooth Kevlar-like material of his suit felt like heaven against your body as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. He was looking at you, studying the fever burning in your eyes as you shivered upon the contact. Without letting go of you, he opened the water bottle.

“I need you to drink,” he murmured. “Your vitals said you’re dehydrated. You’ll need your strength.”

Obediently, you turned your head to the side and allowed him to lift the bottle to your lips. You hadn’t felt thirsty until you actually tasted the cool water Steve carefully held for you, but after the first sip, you greedily chugged the whole bottle. Steve’s eyes stayed fixated on your lips as you did, and he didn’t turn his gaze even as he put the empty bottle on the table and grabbed another.

“Still thirsty?” he asked.

The whole length of your body was pressed against his, and his thigh had slipped between yours to stabilize you further. Even through the fabric, he could feel against his palm how hot your skin was. You had come to him, out of your free will – as free as it could be under the influence of the aphrodisiac – and you were there, now, rising to your tiptoes and pressing your face against the crook of his neck before drawing a deep breath in. Just the scent and the presence of him seemed to calm you down, and maybe that meant he shouldn’t –

Your tongue licked a long, languid stripe over the side of Steve’s neck, tasting the salt of his skin and the musk that was simply Steve. As you did, your hips – the bare, soaking wet, burning apex of your thighs – rolled against his thigh, and the high whimper that left your mouth made every single thought empty from his head. He barely registered the drizzle of cool water that hit his cheek as the water bottle he had been holding had exploded in his flexing hand. As you lifted your head to look at him, not even noticing the water that had also hit you, Steve dropped the crushed remnants of the bottle and raised his hand to cup your cheek. Every single cell in his body was alight, painfully aware that you were still rocking yourself against his thigh, slight graceful movements of your hips chasing that delicious friction.

“Tell me you want me,” Steve whispered, looking into your eyes. “I need to hear it one more time. Tell me you want this.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a second, Steve felt like you saw everything, every single last fantasy he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom over the last few months, every thought of his that screamed how much he wanted this. But then, as his name left your lips in a desperate whimper that came combined with you pressing even tighter against his body, he realized that was all your lust. Heightened by the aphrodisiac but yours.

“Steve. I want you. I need you. Steve, please.”

His lips came down on yours, rough, greedy, claiming, and your body caught fire with that taste of his, that control and command that laced the kiss. Lust so violent that nothing you had felt during previous hours or ever in your life could compare slammed into you, crumbling into beautiful, empty whiteness everything except Steve. Your hands clawed on the suit, desperately trying to figure out how to get the damn thing off and have all that warm, masculine skin against yours. With his every single brain cell consumed by the kiss, Steve’s hand moved on muscle memory as he released the suit’s cleverly hidden clasps, the arm draped across your back never leaving its position. It was you, just you, your taste and your warmth and the delicious, tiny sounds you were breathing into the kiss as his mouth pressed against yours and his tongue ran over the pout lower lip he had stared more than he should’ve during all the meetings, his head running off with fantasies of just bending you over the damn briefing table and having his way.

His. You were his.

As the clasps opened, you yanked the suit almost violently down to bundle around Steve’s trim waist, and then finally, finally you could get your hands on all that muscle covered by silky skin. Had your lust-shorting brain had any remnant of control, you would’ve thought that it was almost ridiculous how he looked like a Greek god, how it was not possible for a human to be this chiseled artwork but frankly, you weren’t too concerned by that. He broke the kiss only to look at you, a large palm grabbing hold of your gown and yanking, and as the fabric gave like butter, he tossed it aside. It was his turn to get his hands everywhere, running over every curve of yours as you arched in his touch. Your hips rocked back and forth against the strong thigh between yours, and as he tensed the muscles, you whimpered. The fabric, smooth as it was, was almost too much in your overwired state and yet, you couldn’t imagine moving an inch as Steve’s dark gaze was fixed on your face.

“That’s my thigh, honey. Does that feel good?” he rasped, his hands moving to cup your butt for added stability as your own thighs trembled.

In response, you yanked his mouth down back on yours, delirious for the taste of him.  Steve’s skin was warm and you had an inkling it should’ve been feeling like it was overheating you even more but instead it seemed to help you concentrate onto something other than your burning. Every thought was emptying from your head as the coil was tightening in your belly, heat pooling down down down and sizzling with a promise of a climax that might finally bring at least a drop of relief. God, he smelled gorgeous. He was still fresh home from a mission, and there was that hint of pure peak of man in his scent that made you whine as you chased the peak.

“Steve… Feels so good…” you moaned to his lips.

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss onto your jawline and ghosting his lips down to whisper straight into your ear. “I’m going to make you come for me until it’s all out. I’ve got you now, honey. Let me take care of you. Let me see you come undone.”

Coming on his thigh, with those words falling into your ear like dark warm sugar, had sometime in the past felt like a filthy fantasy, and it was filthy, but it was exactly the right kind of filthy. The climax, coaxed further by his words, struck like a lightning, finally giving you a hint of shade when you had been lying on the desert sand. It was nowhere near enough, and the moment you stopped trembling and opened your eyes, the heat was already creeping back up. You needed more.

Good thing that Steve was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

I’m yours if you want me.

Keeping your eyes in his, still panting for air, you pressed your palm flat against the washboard of his stomach and slid your hand down, past the bundled suit on his waist, past the waistline of his boxers. Your fingers brushed tentatively over the base of his cock and then wrapped around it as you swallowed at the sensation of the size of him. He was burning hot in your hand and despite all his self-control that bordered on superhuman, he was breathing in ragged pants as your hand slowly caressed him.

“I need you,” you whispered.

And oh, he would give. The next thing you knew, you were being backed against the wall of the room as he tore the suit completely off and kicked his boots away, and then yes, all of him slamming you against the wall, all that glorious godlike physique yours to…

keep?

The thought circled somewhere around the edges of your scattered brain that was more concerned by the fact that you were being hauled up to the wall and his fingers were brushing up your thighs and –

“Oh fuck, honey,” he groaned as his calloused hand slid over your soaking wet core. “Oh jesus.”

All those times he’d fantasized about you. All those pictures he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom, all those ways he had imagined he would make you sing. All within his grasp. His lips were ghosting your ear, a gentle tug of teeth here and there and you both never wanted this to stop and needed it to stop because you wanted more, more, more, everything he could and wanted to give you. Steve’s voice was low and strained as he carefully slid a finger inside you:

“So wet for me,” he whispered. “So greedy.”

He was easily holding you up on the wall by one arm slipped under your butt as his other hand worked your core, the heel of his palm rubbing gently against your clit. Even as you were sensitive from the drug, it was a different kind of sensitive, something that made you whine and wither on his touch not out of discomfort but out of pleasure you hadn’t quite imagined possible. The chase for that primal satisfaction had you shameless; coming for him just minutes before had been a sip of cooling water but what raged inside you was a wildfire that had evaporated the relief almost as soon as the last wave had washed over you.

You needed more than his fingers. You needed to be full of him.

“Steve… Just fuck me, please.”

Steve Rogers was a strong man, but there was no possibility that he could’ve resisted the feverish plea that fell from your lips, you calling out to him, you asking to…  He wasn’t even thinking about resisting, no, the second the words had left your mouth he was shifting your weight in his hands.

“Don’t worry, doll, I said I’m yours,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will. That’s what you asked me to do, didn’t you? To fuck you against the wall like this, with my cock deep inside you?”

You barely recalled the words, the message you had sent, and it mattered fuck all now that he was here, lining up to finally, finally, finally give you what you wanted.

“That was a question, doll,” he rasped, his forehead pressed against yours and sweat sprinkling on it from the effort of trying to maintain at least an inkling of composure.

“Yes. Yes. I need you. I need you to fuck me and I need you to come for me; I need you to come inside me.”

You were so needy for him that he slid inside the second he pushed against you but despite the wetness, despite the burning, it was still a sensation that made your head drop back against the wall as you adjusted to his size. God, yes. This sensation of being full of him, precisely him and not just anyone, had been something you had craved from the second the sweet vapor had floated into your system.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock slammed into Steve’s brain, the force of the impact pushing out anything and everything except for the feral, primal animalistic need to keep doing precisely what he was doing. You were helplessly pressed between him and the wall, squeezing him, and with his hands full of your body and his ears full of your sweet moans, he was certain he was approaching some sort of ascension.

“Good girl,” his low, hoarse voice filled your ears like warm syrup. “You’re being so good for me.”

The feeling of your walls clenching even harder around his cock made him chuckle against the skin of your neck. He was throbbing inside you at the feeling, wanting this to last and wanting to chase the release he knew would be out of this world. You were burning hot in his hand, clawing at his back, incoherent at the feeling of him pressed against you and sheathed to the hilt inside you, his hips rocking with torturously slow pace that was pushing you towards the edge again.

“You like that, don’t you? You like me telling you how perfect you are for me, how well you’re taking my cock, doll?”

You were so close, so so so close again, and this time, it was going to be even better than it had been coming on his thigh. He had you, just like he always had you back on the field, that’s what you loved about him among many other things, the control, the command… And he had asked you a question. Before you could think, the words fell out of your mouth:

“Yes, Captain.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. In that second, someone poured a gallon of gasoline over Steve and threw a lit match to follow. Your words scorched every last cell in his body, the way his title rolled off your tongue making his head spin. His eyes flared into a blue inferno and his body slammed tighter against you as he lost his rhythm for a moment before stalling. You met his eyes and swallowed, because something had changed. Steve Rogers had dipped into Captain America, and you had seen that gaze of a hunting predator in his eyes on the field but had never imagined it in a context like this.

Truth be told, you had. But you had never imagined it would one day stare at you in the eye, his cock deep inside you. He had stopped, and you were barely coherent, swaying right there on the edge for him.

“Is that so, doll?” he chuckled, smiling like a shark that had smelled blood. “You want your captain to take the reins? You want to just focus on being a good girl and doing what you’re told?”

Your brain ways beyond being able to form anything resembling a sentence, you faced his gaze and nodded. You did trust him, from the bottom of your heart – you had known the moment you had started succumbing to this that if there was one person you trusted to get you out of this, it was Steve Rogers.

Your Captain.

The second your head moved in agreement, he slammed his mouth on yours, his hips moving to retreat almost completely out of you and then right back in with force that told you he had been holding back. And you wanted, needed, had to have everything of his. You buried your nails to his back as he ravaged you, his pace almost inhumanly fast but not for a second hurting. He would never. The climax that had been building itself up by coiling your entire body tighter and tighter was almost on the edge of snapping, almost almost almost –

“So fucking wet for me. So perfect for your captain. Come on my cock, honey. Let me have it.”

“STEVE!”

The fire that washed over you rivaled a supernova and you could feel your muscles clamp down on Steve’s cock almost desperately, and the combination of that and his name ripping from your throat in a desperate sob was too much for Steve, too. With one final thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could and came, your core fluttering around him in a way that awakened some deep, deep hunger inside him. He knew how you felt now, he knew how his name sounded dripping from your lust-crazed lips, he knew how wet you were for him.

He was so utterly, utterly ruined.

During the momentary lapse back to reason, he ran a hand over your hot cheek, looking into your eyes. You both were breathing in gulps of air as Steve slowly slid you down the wall, sliding out of you and pulling you to him. His hands landed possessively over your hips, and you hummed in pleasure, positively drunk over the feeling of being his, completely unashamed of anything as he kissed you.

“You did so well, honey. So good for me. I’ve got you; we’ll get through this,” he murmured against your mouth.

He wasn’t done with you – not for himself, and not for you. Not by a long shot. He could feel the burning on your skin, and when he mouthed the pulse point on your neck, he could still tell that your heart was beating like a hummingbird. And the second your hand dived between your bodies and wrapped around his cock again, he was hard for you.

God bless the serum and the heightened testosterone that followed. Even as his plans for you sat firmly in the realm of unholy.

The second you touched him, his palm covered the nape of your neck, grabbing it firmly to make you look up to his eyes. The climax wasn’t the relief you had been hoping for, not yet, it was something worse and something better, a tease, a promise of eventual one but not yet, not before you would come for Steve again and again and again. As of now, you were burning, burning still. Burning for him.

“The bed. On your hands and knees,” he growled, and you obeyed.

Of course you did. When he said it like that, just like he did on missions, it was a sign that he had the control and you could trust him. It was alright. You could let go. You could forget everything and let him lead, and there was freedom in that. The surrender was a cherry on the top of the lust boiling in your body, and when you felt him kneel on the bed behind you, his large palms caressing over your thighs and hips, you shivered. He leaned over you, above you, and you could more sense than feel his broad shoulders shadowing you as he kissed the back of your neck. You were trembling in anticipation as you felt him position himself against you, almost pushing into you but not quite. Not yet.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, his voice a dark whisper on your neck. “So good at following orders.”

“Yes, Captain. Please, I need… Please.”

Steve chuckled, and his teeth carefully nibbed your shoulder before he talked again:

“Good girls get rewarded.”

Any chance of you forming a reply to the words was gone the second he pushed himself back inside you, and the angle had him brushing against every single perfect spot inside you. He was so deep, even deeper than he had been and you threw your head back in crazed whimper. He was still draped over your back, and his left hand slipped under your body, pulling you tighter against him.

“Up, honey,” he rasped into your ear.

It was more a warning than an order, because in the next second, he had shifted on the bed to sit on his heels, pulling you flush against his chest as you straddled his thighs. He was all hard muscle and musky masculinity behind and underneath you. He positioned an arm between your breasts so that you were almost caged in his grip, his palm spreading possessively over your collarbone as his breath tickled your ear. Instinctively, you moved in his lap, arching back and grabbing the back of his neck for support even as his arm held you in place with ease. His bicep felt impossibly wide as it pressed against your side but you were far more focused on the fact that he was deep enough in you that he was hitting places you weren’t aware had existed. You flexed your thighs to cradle his in between, and god, those thighs were like two tree-trunks. The curve of your butt was pressed against the washboard of his stomach, and you felt his free hand caress the side of your hip before it roamed to your inner thigh. He still wasn’t moving, even as you were slightly rocking yourself back and forth, his patience almost impossible.

“Easy, doll. We’ve got all night,” he said, but contrary to his words, he pressed two fingers to draw small circles over your clit as he finally, finally moved. “We’ve got as long as you need.”

“Steve…” you whined as he rolled his hips.

He moved his hips and your entire body with such ease that you could feel electricity crackling on your skin. It was this apex of a man buried deep inside you, this impossible demigod that was so under your spell that he was already panting against your neck.

“I’m right here, honey. Fuck, you’re so tight,” he said. “Squeezing me so good.”

His far too teasing fingers brushed over your clit in time of his rubbing thrusts, and you were being wound tighter and tighter, another climax already building inside you and the peak was building higher than you had ever felt it, preparing for the collapse that was as inevitable as it had been to end up right here.

“I’m yours.”

“Oh yes you are, doll. All mine. Looking so pretty on my cock.”

Steve was mouthing the side of your neck, grazing with his teeth until he found a spot that made you whimper and latched onto that, sucking firm enough to leave a mark. You pushed your hips forward against his fingers, trying to get more pressure, trying to get him to move faster. The second you did, he pulled you back tighter against himself, preventing you from moving on your own but continuing to move both of your bodies himself.

“You’re going to let me, doll,” he growled. “You wanted to let go. So let go. Relax. Let your captain take care of you.”

He brought his fingers up from between your legs to your lips and you let your jaw drop open without a thought at all to taste the salty, tangy combination of you and him. As your mouth closed around his fingers in wet, warm softness, Steve moaned a strained curse against the your shoulder and picked up the pace.

You were gone. You were floating somewhere beyond all reality, somewhere where the only thing that existed was the man behind you and inside you and the burning in your veins that craved. Him, this, anything he could and would give you.

The feeling of you sucking on his fingers and your soaked core trying to desperately keep him from retreating as he moved his hips, your muscles clenching around his cock, was beyond Steve’s wildest fantasies. He was beyond any conscious thought whatsoever, his brain focused only on thought of spending the rest of his life buried deep inside you, pulling a peak after peak after peak from you until you were all spent and all his. With a lewd, wet sound, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth despite your whiny protest and pressed them again at your core to continue touching you in sync with his movements. You were almost there, strung tight with desire in his lap, your core slick and burning around his cock. He mouthed a path from your neck to your earlobe and teased it with his teeth, his breath hot and filthy and dripping with sin in your ear as you whimpered.

“You’re going to come for me, love. You’re going to come for your captain,” he rasped, the authority unquestionable. “That’s an order.”

His words pushed you right over the edge, collapsing the mountain that had been rising from the sea within you and the earthquake that came did Steve in, too. You could hear him moan your name into your ear as he came, the feeling of you irresistible as you came undone for him. It was an explosion that scorched through you, a heat that consumed the previous burn that had been in you, swallowed it whole like an exploding supernova swallowed a galaxy. Whole, and without mercy. It sent you falling back into what felt like a cooling pool of water after you had been catching fire, after a whole day spent in the scorching sun.

The whiteness that came after was still and absolute for a second or two and then you felt Steve’s chest rumble behind your limp body, his cock still buried deep inside you and his hands holding you so close.

“Better?” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Yes,” you whispered.

It was. You were starting to feel like you weren’t going to spontaneously combust but even as it was the case, you were far from exhausted, and Steve chuckled again as he felt your core flutter around him.

“Not done?”

You shook your head and he retreated back, kissing your temple and then whispering into your ear:

“Good. Cause I’m far from being done with you, too.”

In the late night, you descended back into your body from somewhere between fever dream and consciousness to find yourself comfortable in bed. A shape like a warm rock wall was pressed against your back, and you were being held in strong arms: safe. So safe. At some point during the night, when you had been finally feeling like you could sleep, Steve had carried you to the shower and spent long minutes washing your body. And of course, you had returned the favor, and gotten a taste of him. And of course, Steve had been able to take only so much of you kneeling on the shower floor with his cock in between your plush lips before he had had to haul you up and slowly, almost languorously have you against the tiled wall. And of course, you had come for him one more time even as you had been forced to consider that the next climax might be the one to shut your brain off completely.

There were worse ways to go.

In the dark room, wrapped in satin sheets that would probably have to be burned after this, you stirred once more. A gentle breath tickled the back of your neck, and even half asleep, you felt your lust wake, heat pooling into the bottom of your stomach and tingling all over your skin. The past few hours seemed like a pleasant, hazy dream that still caressed your body.

More. More more more more.

The greediness of your hindbrain coaxed you back to life. You rocked your hips back against the man that was spooning you, and drowsily whispered his name, still unsure which part of you actually knew it was him.

“Steve.”

The answer to your whimper was a dark chuckle and a slightly sleepy kiss onto your earlobe.

“Right here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Do you need me again?”

“Need you. Want you,” you whined, rocking your hips again, satisfied to feel that he was already hard.

Wanting you as much as you wanted him. One of the hands that held you slid down to grab your hips and roll you onto your back, and in the next second, he leaned over you to kiss you even as his hand slid down your stomach. Your renewed desire had you already wet for him again, and he groaned as he parted your folds to feel it.

“God, doll, how do you ever expect me to get enough of you when you feel like this?”

He positioned himself over you again, trailing slow, teasing kisses down your stomach as you tried to rock up to coax him on. His hands were roaming up and down your body, caressing your skin with the lightest of touches and stopping to squeeze every now and then.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

That lit a fire. Steve let out a harsh, ragged breath and moved down to sink his face in between your legs. There was no tentativeness to it this time, not after he’d spent the last twelve or so hours thoroughly exploring you, making note of every way you reacted to his touch. He knew what to do, and a proud shiver, like a predator shaking its fur dry, shot down his spine.

His. You were his.

He was absolutely merciless, his tongue never letting up even as your whimpers of his name grew louder with every movement. He was holding you down by your hipbones, your thighs resting on his shoulders, not letting you move an inch. The burning blue flames of his eyes looked at you as you writhed and whined and moaned his name for him, and a reminder of his eidetic memory crossed your mind. He would remember this, and the way he was looking at you, he was making sure that he would get every single detail. As he gently buried two fingers inside you, you were certain that you would’ve jumped on the bed had his arm not been firmly resting on top of your hips.

“I want to wake you up like this every day,” he whispered hoarsely, his head still in between your thighs. “I want the first thing you feel in the morning to be coming apart on my tongue, and I want to go out into the world with your sweet voice moaning my name echoing in my ears.”

Yes. Yes. Yes, please.

“Fuck, Steve…”

He cursed at the sensation of you clamping down on his fingers, desperate for the sensation of being full again because you were ruined, ruined, utterly ruined by him. There would not be going back from this, not after being loved and worshipped and fucked like this by someone who was closer to a god than a man.  

“Come for me, love,” he whispered against you, command and a plea at the same time.

What was there to do but obey as his fingers curled up, brushing against a sensitive spot inside you, and the endearment fell from Steve’s lips like a confession you had been waiting for?

The minute you returned to your senses, the self-satisfied chuckle that rumbled from between your legs gave you no other option than to beg for him to fill you? And with how wrapped around your finger he had already been for months, you could’ve asked Steve to fetch you the moon and the stars, and he would’ve obeyed without question. To sheathe himself inside you was certainly not a tall order, especially not with how you wrapped your limbs around him, trying to get him as close as possible.

It was love. It had to be, wrapped into the scarlet-red silks of lust as it now was.

When it finally settled down again, your voice hoarse from screaming his name into the dim room that was luckily very well soundproofed, he still wanted to hold you close. His fingers traced lazy patterns over your back.

“God, I should’ve said something in Verona,” he rasped into your hair as your warm weight rested against his chest. “About how much of an embarrassing crush I had on you.”

You shifted closer, soaking in the comfort of being cherished and wanted and protected like this, and when you smiled against his skin, you were already halfway back in a dream. It certainly was an unconventional beginning, and as the aphrodisiac was almost out of you, one sardonic part of your brain was wondering how you’d spin the beginning of this love story for the press. Which would certainly be foaming at the mouth when it found out two Avengers were dating.

“Maybe you should say that tomorrow, then,” you whispered.   

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

Next Chapter >>

[avengerscompound]

The Pain in Serendipity - 6

The Pain in Serendipity - A Captain America Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers (possible polyamory in future).

Rating: E

Word Count:  1799

Warnings: smut (MF, oral sex, vaginal sex), aftermath of the snap.

Synopsis:   When Thanos snaps his fingers it takes your daughter and Steve Rogers’ first love with it.  Together you pick up the pieces, falling in love and building a family together.  Finding serendipity in your shared trauma.When opportunity comes to bring back those who are lost comes with the risk of more loss for you both.  Is it worth taking the risk?

Chapter 6

The sun had only just started coming up when you woke.  It was a little infuriating waking before the kids.  As a parent of three, one of whom was under five, sleep was a rare commodity so when you woke up before they did, it felt like your brain was trying to sabotage you.

Still, it was nice to be comfortable and warm in bed, wrapped in Steve’s arms with the sounds of birds outside the window.

You rolled over and nuzzled into his neck hoping you’d get back to sleep.  Steve’s arms tightened around you and without even opening his eyes he started kissing your neck.

“Steve,” you giggled softly.

“Mmm…?” he hummed as she sucked on a patch of skin.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” he whispered as his lips grazed up to your ear.  He flicked his tongue over your earlobe and nipped at the shell of your ear.  “Now I’m up.”

You laughed softly and ran your hand down his stomach and into his pajama pants, curling your fingers around his already achingly hard cock.  “I can see that.”

He rolled you both over and tilted his head, his nose pressing against yours as his lips hovered over your mouth so closely that when he spoke you could feel the brush of his lips.  “Have we ever had morning sex?”

You shook your head slightly.  “Nope.  I think we’ve always had a little one around preventing it.”

“Another first then,” he said and kissed you deeply.

You wrapped your legs around him and he held you close as the two of you kissed and he ground his erection down on you.  You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had morning sex.  It was before Alice had been born.  Maybe even before she had been conceived and that had been over seven years ago.  You forgot how soft and intimate it could be.  How warm and fuzzy you felt when you’d just woken and how that made things feel that little bit magical.

Steve kissed his way down your body, pushing your shirt up so he could suck on one breast and then another.  Your nipples hardened in his mouth and your breasts ached with need.  You moaned softly, tangling your hands in his hair as he made his way down your body.  He kissed down your stomach and pushed your legs apart.  You hummed, closing your eyes as you flexed your fingers in his hair.  “Oh, Steve,” you hummed, as he pulled your pajama pants down.

He parted your folds with his fingers and swiped his tongue up them.  Your cunt tingled and goosebumps broke out over your skin as it traveled up through you, slowly swirling under your skin with each swipe of his tongue.  He was slow and unfocused, humming as he used his mouth to explore your cunt.  His tongue pushed inside you and lapped over every crevice, it flicked over your clit and swirled around like he was mapping it with his mouth.

You started to roll your hips and arch your back, so your whole body slowly writhed under his touch.  He sucked on your clit, increasing that warm current that flowed through you.  Your toes curled and pressure built in your core.  When your orgasm broke, it enveloped you like a warm blanket.  You moaned and tugged on his hair as it washed through you.

He crawled up your body and aligned himself with you, his cock pressed against your entrance.  You cradled his jaw and pulled his head down against yours, so your foreheads were pressed together.  The two of you breathed the breath that the other exhaled.  “I love you.  I love you, Steve,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he hummed, and slowly sunk into you.

There was always a burn when he entered you no matter how wet and ready for him you were, followed by a sting as he hit your cervix.  His cock was huge and there was no amount of preparation you had that made you where ever feel truly ready for him.  Yet as he began to roll his hips, you wanted that more than anything else.

He thrust into you slowly and lazily and you matched his movements.  There was no hurry to this.  No place you needed to be.  There were just the two of you and the here and now.

He kissed you passionately and he began to move a little faster and more erratically.  His base rubbed against your clit and as he became more erratic, heat coiled in your core and burst.  You came hard, crying out into the kiss.

The clench and spasm of your cunt brought Steve over with you and with one final thrust into you he came, releasing inside of you.

You hummed, still kissing as your bodies settled again.  Steve slowly pulled back and slipped from inside of you.  “Let’s go have a shower.  We can get an early start on the day,” he said.

“Mmm… you go,” you mumbled.  “I’ll be there in a second.”

The next thing you knew you were waking to bright sunlight and an empty bedroom.  Steve wasn’t in the bathroom, so you threw on your pajama pants and went to go find him.

He was in the kitchen surrounded by chaos.  The sink was full of different-sized bowls all caked with either batter or concealing egg.  There was flour everywhere, and on a plate beside him was a pile of clumped together half-cooked dough that going off what was currently burning in the skillet was supposed to be pancakes.

Jacob was sitting on the floor at Steve’s feet, banging a pot with a wooden spoon.  His brown eyes lit up when he saw you, and he came running over squealing “Mommy!”

“J.J.,” you cheered, scooping him and cuddling him close.  “There's my little mama's boy.”

He hummed and nuzzled into your neck as Steve cursed and dropped his flip on the counter.  “Damn it.  I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek. “That's very sweet.  You definitely need to learn your limitations though.”

“I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?” He sighed. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart.”

“No need to be,” you said.  “Tell you what.  You clean this mess up, and I'll go get the other two up and take a shower.  We’ll get breakfast out.  Then I don't have to do any dishes.”

“That sounds like a good deal,” Steve said.  “Next time I try this it will be toast and scrambled eggs”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed.

You put Jacob back down and headed upstairs as Steve began cleaning up.  After stopping in to wake up Ryan and Isabella you went and had your shower and got ready to go out.  Thankfully when you came back downstairs, everyone was dressed and ready to go out and Steve had cleaned the kitchen up to a level that while not spotless, was livable.

“Ready, everyone?”  Steve asked.

There was a general agreement and you all headed out together.  You and Steve held Jacob’s hand, swinging the boy between you every three steps, as Ryan and Isabella walked ahead.

“Daddy,” Isabella said, focusing her attention on Steve who she recognized as being the soft touch.  “Can we go to the aquarium after breakfast?”

Steve looked at you.  “A trip out to Coney Island, huh?  What do you think?”

“I heard they had some new sea lion babies,” you said.  “That might be cute to see.”

“Yeah, okay, we can do that,” Steve agreed.  “Ryan, what about you?  Did you want to come or have you got plans?”

Over the past year, Ryan - who had been practically inseparable from you and the rest of your found family - was now starting to spend more time out with friends.  You were happy for him. It felt like progress.

“I was gonna go into the city with Aspen.  Maybe they could come along with us too?” he suggested.

“That’s fine with me,” you agreed.  “But it’s really okay if you’d rather go into the city.  As long as you’re not planning to get into any trouble.”

Ryan laughed.  “No.  We were just going to buy only black m&ms.”

“Call them and see what they say,” you said.

“Bucky and I used to go out to Coney Island whenever we had spare money,” Steve said, as you continued to walk along.  “Not that that was very often.  That aquarium was there back then too.  Whether we went to Luna Park or the Aquarium depended on if Buck was trying to impress any girls.”

“You weren’t dating back then?” you asked.

Steve shook his head.  “Oh no,” he said.  “You kidding? Neither of us wanted to admit that about ourselves.  Not back then.  And I guess … well, we loved each other.  I know that.  But we were attracted to women.  So we just tried to fit in.  Not that we didn’t have … mishaps.”

“Sexy mishaps?” you teased.

Steve looked from the kids to you askance, and a deep blush filled his cheeks.  His eyes dropped and he ran his palm up the back of his head.  “I guess you could say that.”

“Ooooh,” you teased.  “Steven Grant Rogers.  You bad boy.”

Steve chuckled and nudged you, before swinging Jacob up high between you both, making the little boys squeal in delight.  “What happened then?  Didn’t get together until you found him again?”

“Well, yeah.  By then I think we both had the world experience to know there was no point denying ourselves any kind of happiness.  It’s hard enough to get that in the first place,” he explained.  “But even then, it took a little while to get over those little voices that had been drilled into us saying it was wrong.  Plus he had been through so much - well we both had, but him more than anyone.  We had to go slow.”

“I’m glad you’ve started realizing you deserve to be happy even if the universe does keep being a complete and utter … c-word,” you said.

Steve scooped Jacob up into his arms and held him out to you.  “Kiss your mommy for me,” he said.  Jacob giggled in the manic way only toddlers can and blew a wet raspberry on your cheek.

“Gee thanks,” you laughed, scrunching your nose and wiping your cheek.

You reached the cafe and Ryan held the door open for you all.  As you made your way in single file, Steve put his hand on your waist and leaned into you. “We should get Natasha to babysit sometime this week,” he said.  “I think we’re due a date night.”

You leaned back and kissed him gently.  “That would be wonderful.”

// NEXT

[johnkrrasinski]

ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

Chapter 3: Fall from Grace 

full masterlist // series masterlist

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 3,639 

Warnings: smut, kidnapping, stalking, slight bondage. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: after the death of your mother, you decided that you were going to do something new to honor her. You chose a perfect camping spot somewhere down South. You thought it was going to be the life-changing vacation that you never had in your life, until Steve Rogers, a man existed in roughness and control all his life, found you.

a/n: chapter three is here!! they are finally going to start their festive, but steve is gentle enough to at least take things slow. things will grow more extreme in future chapters and i hope you’re ready for that. for now, let’s just enjoy, (lowkey) altruistic steve, yeah? enjoy! please leave a like and comment. 

The next morning, you were woken up by a gentle caress on your hair, with a pair of striking blue eyes greeting you. Not that you had any clue whether it was actually morning. It could've been 3 PM in the afternoon for all you know, but the man before you; Steve Rogers, as he declared his name last night, confirmed it by rolling the words on his lips; "good morning."

You tried to sit up, but you remember that you were still bound in place since last night. He sat by the side of the bed, and he asked; "did you sleep well last night?" You didn't know how to answer that, so you nodded aversely. He smiled, not the menacing smirk that he displayed several times last night, but a suave one, like he was gratified by your sated rejoinder.

"I brought breakfast. You must be starving."  You turned your head to your right side and a saw a small table standing next to you, containing a plate filled with scrambled eggs and bacon, the smell was so mouthwatering that your stomach grumbled at the absence.

You whined and pulled your hands scantily, hoping that it was enough to send him the message. "Oh shit, sorry." He made light of the situation and he moved slightly forward to uncuff you. You sat up and tried to take off the gag but he abruptly blocked your hands from proceeding any further.  

"Let me do it." It was supposed to sound thoughtful as if he was lending a helping hand, but the glare in his eyes expunged the sentiment away for what he acutely implied was; "you don't get to make that decision of your own, little girl."

So you let loose your hands and yield into him to perform the task instead. You never cherished your freedom more than at that moment. You instantly contorted your body and grabbed the plate. You ate like you were a famished vagrant. You moaned at how succulent the meal is.

You ate in silence and he just sat there as he watched you gobbled up your food. The sound of the room was only generated from the clinking sounds of the metal fork hitting the silver platter.

When you were repleted, you put down down the dish and you drank the glass of warm vanilla milk on the tray. You gulped half of the glass and put it back on the tray. You didn't realize the remaining splotch of the milk had stained your upper lip milky white.  

Steve cleaned it with the stroke of his thumb tenderly and he wiped it on his jeans. He didn't waste any second longer as he spoke up; "today, we are going to start our training. We'll go over the rules and learn the basics. We will see how much we can wrap today, and then we'll carry on tomorrow."  

He got on his feet and picked up the tray from the small table, and he continued, "while I prep, you can take a shower."

Take a shower? Does this mean he was going to take you upstairs and let you use his bathroom? That's a good start, maybe, you might find a way to escape through the window or scream for help.

But your vision was cut short by his next instructions. He pointed at the direction of the staircase, but not specifically at it, but rather towards something underneath it; "you see that door over there? It's the bathroom. You can shower there."

You hadn't noticed that door before until it was pointed out.  You had only been here for, you assumed, less than 24 hours, there were a lot of things you had yet to discover. After all, your first night here was restricted; you were bound on all fours and the dimmed bulb on the ceiling could only provide so much.

"I'll give you an hour to be ready for me. I expect you to be all cleaned and fragrant when I come back." He leaned down to your level and spoke composedly. "When I'm back, I want you on your knees, with your hands placed neatly on your thighs and your chin down to the ground, understood?"

You nodded. Ever since you got here, it seems like you had lost your ability to form a sentence, you could mumble a few primary words, but you still felt so caged inside despite not being restrained any longer.

"Words, sweet girl. I want you to use your words."

"Yes."

He raised his eyebrows and made a questioning look, you didn't seem to get to hint, so he proceeded; "yes what?"

Your brain quickly recalls last night's events, where he told you that you may call him sir at "certain times" and you immediately knew that this was the moment he implied.

"Yes... Sir." With that, you earned a murderous smirk on his face as if he was amused by the way the sound of the epithet rolled off your lips.

"Good girl. I'll see you later." He left a kiss on your forehead and fled; passing the staircase, off he go.

You folded your knees and tucked them under your chin. What kind of rules was he planning to go over with you? Is he ever going to let you go? And most importantly, are you truly safe with him?  

Steve took off from the basement and locked the door behind him. He was amused by how obedient y/n had been so far, he quickly learnt how naive and innocent you were. He was going to have it easy when it comes to molding you into his favorite possession. The girl he had fantasized about for months; you were nearly there. You just needed a little more disciplinaries.

He calculated in head that in a few weeks, you were going to be innately capable of performing his orders. If he wanted you on all fours, with your head pressed down on the mattress and your hands tied tidily on your back, as he pounds vigorously into you, then you were going to do so, with only a single cue.

Yeah, he'll get you there. He just needed patience and perseverance.

He stripped himself off his navy blue plaid shirt and his worn-out jeans. He also pulled down his boxer and put them into the dirty laundry basket as his lengthy cock sprung free. It wobbled as he stepped into the bathroom and turned on the lights; the rustic interior came into view. There was a single, broad rectangular mirror on his right side, over the Pecan brown ceramic sink. The tile that topped the cabinet sink resembled the colour of its owner's hair; deep brunette brown.

On the left side, there was a single wooden framed window that was shut due to the windy weather that caused the fallen leaves of the trees to enter his cabin uninvited.

He diverted the shower curtains and climbed into the giant bathtub. He swiveled the shower faucet and let the warm water wash over him. His thoughts migrated to his discoveries last night. He had stolen her phone and her other personal things and stash them in the top racks of his closet.

While she was unconscious, she pressed her button onto the fingerprint passlock, and the screen lit up, displaying all of the menu icons. He looked through all of her social media one by one; her text messages, her Instagram, Facebook, emails, Youtube history, Google history, Google Play Books, and even her Amazon search list. He thoroughly scrolled through every app on her phone he could find, to dig deeper into her personal background.

From what he discovered, he hadn't learned much except; she was a nerd, the number of books she had yet to finish explained that much. Her history search revealed nothing much more than juvenile information, and the most recent ones were camping related info. She was on social media, but she didn't seem to have that many interactions cramming up her notifications. Her emails and text messages mostly consisted of professional matters with her, what he assumed, were her co-workers.

He also read several unanswered texts, saying sentimental things, such as; "I'm truly sorry for your loss." "I'll be here if you need me, call me soon!" "Do you need a friend? I can come over anytime! :)" "She was such a wonderful human being, she's in a better place now." "Stay strong, okay? Thinking about you here."

That made him curious. Why didn't she answer these well-intend messages? Who was this "wonderful human being" her acquaintance talked about? He didn't dwell on those futile questions for too long, he could ask her about it later, but now, he just wanted to learn more about his girl.

He clicked on the gallery icon and there was only a single file. He unfolded it, and the file revealed pictures that she took from the woods; the river, the trees, the scenery, etc. Then as he scrolled down further, pictures of an older woman surfaced. The older woman slightly resembled her. They both have the same eyes and that warm demeanor. Some pictures showed she was in a hospital bed, clad in a hospital gown. She looked pale and frail. He put the math together and concluded that this might be her mother, and that she was ill.

But her peer or whoever the hell that was, texted that she was in a better place now? Does that mean she was deceased? Is that why she came here all alone? To get away from her thoughts?

He'll learn the answers tomorrow, when she's awake, and when she's willing to talk.

After about an hour browsing through her phone, he decided that he had found enough. He decided to delete all her social media accounts and discarded her SIM card and the battery. Then he turned off the device and stash it back to where all her personal belongings were stored.

After he showered under the warm water and cleaned himself enough, he turned off the faucet and stepped out of the bathtub. He dried off his damp hair as he stared into the mirror, acknowledging his God-like, well-defined figure. His chiseled abs and bulky chest that could bring anyone in his way to their knees. He trimmed his unkempt beard just enough to keep it presentable. He brushed his hair until he was satisfied with how dashing he looks.

He stepped out into his room and searched through his wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and put it on. He didn't even bother putting on a boxer or briefs, for he knew it would go futile anyway. Nor did he bother putting on a shirt. So he walked into his basement, where his girl was kept; shirtless, and eager.

Let the games begin...

The warm water washing over you felt pleasant on your skin. You took your time in cleaning yourself up, as your minds keep drifting to the last 24 hours. Still, the remaining questions in your head were; where the hell were you? who the hell was this man? what the hell did he want from you?

You squeezed the bottle of the shampoo onto your hand and you messaged your scalp smoothly despite your restless thoughts. You had walked into the bathroom fifteen minutes earlier, and saw how complete the bathroom was.

It wasn't much, there was a single toilet and a roll of tissue glued around a wall-mounted tissue holder beside it. You also found many feminine toiletries such as; coconut shampoo, lavender body wash, vanilla-scented lotion, deodorant, toothbrush & toothpaste, razor, blades, shaving lubricant, soap bar, and nail clippers.

In the tiny cabinet sink, there were a few white towels and washcloths. Inside the drawer, there were a few tampons and pads. You truly felt like you were a special guest at a fancy hotel. The cramped bathroom was even a lot neater compared to your own in your apartment.

It makes you wonder... Did he plan all of this? If he did, how long had he been planning for this? Your own questions rose the shivers down your spine. You decided to shake it all away and stepped into the tight space behind the curtains.

You turned on the faucet and let the warm water stream over your skin.

After you were finished, you wrapped one of the towels in the cabinet, around your body. You used it to dry off your face and your hair, then you walked out to the room. You were glad that he hadn't come back yet, so it gave you enough time to get ready.

How... exactly were you going to get ready? You just realized he didn't provide you any clothes or undergarments. So you sat in your bed, still clothed in the towel until you were ready to follow his instructions.

You weren't ready to find out what he meant by "there will be punishments" as he casually stated last night, so you dropped the towel off your body and hung it on the hook behind the bathroom door.

You heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps and you sprinted to the center of the room and knelt. You placed your hands neatly on your thighs as he instructed with your head down, not wanting to stare at his face. Despite it was part of his orders, you were also fearful of gazing into this man's eyes.

The sound of the door opening reverberated through the room, and your hands shook despite being perfectly still on your thighs. Your lips trembled at the mighty presence making a grand entrance. The sound of the approaching footsteps grew harsher and in seconds, a pair of black mudded boots covered feet came into view.

"You listened to my orders well... Good. We are off to a good start. Alright, let's begin our lesson today. You can look up now."

You lifted your head to look at his face, and you trembled. Seeing this man from down here hit you differently. He was majestic in every possible way. You didn't know whether that made you feel safer or even more terrified. He was leaning on a small table pressed to the wall behind him, his hands holding his bodybuilder figure.

"First, I want you to address me as sir when we are engaged in sexual intercourse. You have learned my name but it doesn't mean you can call me by my first name whenever you like."

"Second, I don't wanna hear you talk unless I address you first. If you absolutely need to, you may raise your hand to let me know. The only thing that I wanna hear from that mouth is your compliance, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Third," his eyes darkened. There wasn't a hint of emotions on his face, nothing but stone-cold, hard-rock sobriety. Like a supreme commander, commanding his subordinates. "I expect you to submit to me, fully. Your body and your mind belong to me now. I am in control of the way it works and I am free to choose whatever I want to do to you. No refusal, no recalcitrance, no inquiry. Trust me, the less you resist, the easier this will be."

You were stiffened in place, cemented on spot. He demanded complete submission; a person you had never come across before, the pieces of equipment that were foreign to you, a territory you never had the slightest bit of idea existed... You were forced to yield and accommodate yourself into it. You bit the insides of your cheek to forestall the tears. He already had you impotent, like a wounded animal succumbing to its injuries. Resistance would be vain now. So you let him take the wheel. Even if it means, your temple would be driven by him.

Maybe... Just maybe, after you've pleased him enough by letting him get a grip of you, he might let his guard down and you might even find a way to escape.

But not now, you must work to earn his trust first. You just needed to brace yourself and have self-control. This man promised you that he wasn't going to hurt you, after all, maybe in exchange for a few sexual favors, you might obtain your freedom.

So you entertained him, by saying his two favorite words. "Yes, sir."

"Alright. Now, get on the bed and lay on all fours, like you did last night."

You got on your feet and walked slowly to the mattress. It wasn't a comfortable one. It only had one pillow and not a duvet. It made you miss your own bed dearly.

You laid on the bed, seeking the most comfortable position, despite nothing that would actually make that much difference. You were still placed in the center of the bed, with your head on the pillow.

Steve followed you behind, and he restrained you again to the corners of the bed. He got on top of you, caging your hips with his knees.

"Today, I'm going to teach you how it feels to cum. Fall apart as you give into pleasure... You're never going to be the same once I'm done with you."

He started with nipping the sensitive spot of your neck, followed by the soft caress of his fingers, slowly moving down to your lip, circling around the bud, as he began to collect the wetness there. He moved his head down to your breasts, as he sucked your left nipple with his lips. The feeling overwhelmed you, you had never done this with any man before.

To say you were inexperienced would be an understatement. You had never dated anyone, let alone sleep with one. Your thoughts were jumbled with the sensation, you wanted to push him away, but you were bound in spot, your brain is telling you to tell him to stop, but you couldn't.

His mouth is taking its sweet time, moistening your nipple, as the finger on your bud didn't stop, but rather going faster, rubbing you up and down, that elicited a faint moan from you. What is he doing? What is this feeling? You didn't know. But you let yourself get lost in the moment. Thrilled to let him enlighten you.

He released your nipple with a loud pop and he continued his wrongdoing, by moving down to your most sensitive area. He stared at your sweet cunt and unhesitantly dipped his tongue into it.  The lewd noises he was making with his mouth was making your head spin; you tried to block him out by sealing your thighs but he hindered you by wrapping his large hands around your thighs so tightly, you thought it might leave a red mark of fingers afterward.

His right-hand retreated to your breasts, to pinch the right nipple that was left ignored earlier. He groped you so fiercely that you shrieked from the pain. You shifted your head to the side to hide your pleasure, not noticing that his fingers had released your nipple to shove them inside you.

You threw your head back from the sudden intrusion. Your body felt electrified. The sensation was extraordinary. Him pleasuring you with his tongue was one thing, but his fingers stroking the sensitive spot inside you made you forget the dreary situation you were currently trapped in.

You lifted your head to look down at him, trying to figure out what was happening; you could see him engorging you with his eyes shut, as two of his fingers were scissoring inside of you. Your head was misty, and before you know it, your climax had washed over you. The sudden eruption of euphoria shocked you, as you give in to the bliss. You trembled from the unprecedented explosion your body made, as you panted harshly, ceasing you from moving.

Steve was exultant by his work, how he knew he had successfully taken the first step of breaking down your wall. How he managed to inoculate your brain with pleasure. His mouth and fingers had triumphantly turned you into an incoherent, cum-drunk mess, that you didn't even try to fight or resist him. It would be so much easier to mold you to a more advanced doll now.

He reached to your eye level and caged your head once more with his hands, as he alerted you from your post-cum bliss; "when was the last time you ever came that hard?"

You opened your mouth, with still uneven breathing, and answered; "I- I never..."

He squinted his eyes at you with a puzzled look. "You never what?"

You shuddered, cautious to not provoke him; “I never... Never done that before.” 

You were comfortable with being inexperienced, until now. Until this dangerous man, who had just violated you began to interrogate your personal life; what if your celibacy incensed him because you weren't exactly what he was looking for? What he instead of releasing you, he decided to murder you and bury your body in his backyard?

He sat back, between your spread, cum-drenched thighs, and incredulously asked; "you are a virgin?"

You nodded dubiously. You broke off the gaze on his eyes, to look at the rustic wall shielding you from the world. Then his hand grabbed your chin to your move head back so that you were looking at him again; "hey, it's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You are here so I could train you. We've got all the time in the world."

You didn't know how you should react to that; should you smile because of the fact that he wasn't going to murder you? Or should that frighten you instead because that means, one way or another, he was going to corrupt your innocence, and there's nothing you can do about it...

[stevenrogers5-blog]

University S.L.U.T 9

Summary: Steve isn’t usually the one to hate or judge people. But when it came to you, he just wanted to rip his hair out. So his dismay, you two are partnered for a class project. Can you change his mind in time to get a good grade? Or will his feelings get the best of him?

Warnings: Cute and angry stuff

Part 8 and Part 10

A/N: Here you guys go!! Sorry its short! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Once again, it was another morning and you did not want to be heading to the library. Why you may ask? All thanks to Steve. He finally broke down your wall and you guys kissed. You spent the whole night talking, kissing, and getting to know each other. You wanted to spend all day cuddling and talking. But it was time to get back to reality. The project was due and you needed to get it done. Steve had been too much of a distraction. You were ready to sit down and dig deep into the books and websites awaiting your eyes, ears, and mind.

So here you were, seated at a table with Steve, books scattered everywhere, your nose deep into one of them. You were about to flip a page before a sour patch kid hits you on the nose. You were taken aback before looking up. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary… So you flipped the page and continue to read.

“What the?!” You ask as a another hits you in the nose. You look back and everything sits still. Who in the world was throwing candy at you? Steve seemed too focused to be throwing them at you… or was he?

“You okay?” Steve asks as he looks up at you from his laptop. You narrow your eyes but go back to your book. You were a few pages deeper before another candy hits you again.

“Okay. That is it. Give me the bag rogers.” You whisper yell at him. He tries to hold back a bright smile as you move your hand towards him. “I am trying to work on OUR project. So please focus! I would like to pass here.”

“That is no way to talk to your boyfriend!” Steve whisper yells back. You roll your eyes as you try to snatch the bag from him. But he pulls it from you.

“Steven Rogers! I swear if you don’t gi-” He cuts you off by leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. And like that, your anger and sentence were stolen from you. You melt into the kiss as you slide onto Steve’s lap. Steve places the bag of candies behind you before he wrapped his arms around you.

“Seriously! Get a room!” Sophie whispers as she taps harshly on your back. You swat at her, trying hard not to break the kiss. “The librarian is making her rounds!” And with that you were pushing away and off of him.

“Look. We get you two are officially dating. But it’s like watching to bunnies trying to figure out how to mate. Either go have sex or stop making the rest of us uncomfortable!” Bucky whines. Emma and Sophie nod in agreement.

“I mean…” Steve says as he goes to grab your leg. But you move away and sit back in your seat.

“We have a project to get finished. It is due in a few days.” You wag your finger at him. He huffs as he nods his head.

“It’s no fair! I finally get the girl i have been wanting and i’m stuck doing work instead of wrapping myself around her.” Steve whines as he annoyingly stabs at the mouse to click new page.

“Steven. It’s due in a few days. After that, we can be all couply and such.” You explain as flip another page of the book. You eat up the small pile of candies that had grown and continued your work.  

Once again, another candy hits you in the face. You slam the book shut and look him dead in the eyes. He smirks and dips his hand back into the bag. He pulls a handful out and picks one from his hand. He leans his arm back and tosses the candy at you. You open your mouth just in time and lands perfectly in your mouth.

“Ahhh!” Steve calls. He earns a few shs from the librarian. You both laugh quietly before he picks another. “Open.” You do as he says and he throws another one. You catch it perfectly in your mouth once again.

“Mr. Rogers. Please either focus on your work or leave.” The Librarian speaks. You and Steve try very hard to hold back laughter as you try very hard to focus on your books in front of you.

You and Steve walk towards the dorms together, talking about everything to do with your project. But Steve soon stops you in your tracks. He pulls out the bag of candy from his sweatshirt pocket and hands it to you. You happily take it, dipping your hand into it. You scoop a few from it and plop them in your mouth. He smiles at your cuteness but keeps quiet.

“We have to do laundry tonight, do you want to join the group?” You ask after you swallow a few handfuls.

“Sure. I have Snuggles.” Steve says as he opens the door to the dorms. You smile, thank him, and move towards the stairs. You both run up the stairs, you stopped at your level.

“Well this is my stop.” You say as you lean against the wall just next to the door. Steve smiles as he places an arm just next to your head. He leans against it.

“So i see… I mean if you have to go ma’am.” Steve says as he got closer to you.

“I do sir. My roommate is awaiting for me to show up.” You say back. He pouts as you push a strain of hair behind your ear.

“I will see you.” He says as his hand grips the back of my neck. He brings my face to his, kissing me. I smile as we pull away.

“Okay. Don’t keep me waiting for too long.” You say as he starts to turn away. He soon disappears up the stairs. You go to open the door and soon meet with Melissa standing right next to the door.

“Oh, look what the trash brought in.” Melissa says as she eyes you up and down. You roll your eyes as you try to step past her. But she moves in your path once more. “Here’s a fun reminder slut. I am still hotter and better than you. You and Steve are honestly an ugly couple. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s only dating you for pitty. Remember that when you see Sam and I walking around, happy.”

“Melissa. Your sad attempts to make me upset is just that. Sad. Grow up. You are in college. Act like it.” You say as you shove past her, causing her to jerk back.

“Whatever Bitch. You will pay for being such a terrible person.” Melissa calls to you before you disappear into your dorm room. You slam the door shut and throw your bag on your bed.

“You okay?..” Emma asks as she jumps from you throwing a few things here and there.

“I saw Melissa in the hallway. She was going on how Steve is pity dating me and how

she hopes we are unhappy. And that i will pay for being a terrible person to her even though she’s the one who stole my boyfriend. And when i think i am can finally be happy with someone, she always ruins it!!” you explain as you angrily gather your clothes into your basket.

“Hey.Hey HEY.” Emma exclaims as i go to throw a ug at the wall. “No throwing glass unless you plan on buying me another one. Calm down! She is not worth the anger! You are with Steve now! You are happy and content and do let the little people ruin that.” You take in a few deep breaths as you nod your head.

“You’re Right.” you huff as you place the mug next to the coffee maker.

“Let’s go. Bucky said he and Steve are already on their way to the laundry room.”

Tag List:

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Permanent Tag List:

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[scarletolsens-blog]

Galway girl

– Come on, Y/N, I know you can do it better! – Steve said, while he kept throwing punches at me. We had been training for an hour now, just fighting, and I was starting to feel tired. – Don’t let your guard down, Y/N! – he threw a kick to me, but I managed to dodge it. – Come on!

Then I heard someone entering the gym, and looked to the door, to see if it hopefully was Bucky, so that Steve would leave me alone, but instead, I received a kick in my belly. I fell to the floor, complaining, and with my arms holding it.

– Mac soith... – I whispered. Steve looked at me with his eyebrows raised.

– You speak Irish.

– Ar ndóigh! I’m from Dingle, dude.

– I didn’t know. – he said, helping me get up. – I didn’t know you could speak Irish. Did I hurt you?

– Well, a bit. But I can handle it. Well, I moved to Galway as a teen, but I was born and raised there.

– And you remember how to speak Irish.

– Well, not at all.

– Just the curse words?

I rolled my eyes.

– A few more.

– Yeah? Cosúil le cad?

– Níl mé cinnte ar chor ar bith. Tá sé cosúil le ... duillín siad díreach as dom, tá a fhios agat? Ciallaíonn mé, ní raibh mé cinnte fiú mhaith liom a bheith in ann freagra duit, ach anseo tá mé. What about you?

– Máthair taught me when I was a kid. I still remember some things. She was from Newry. My father and her met in Galway…

– What are the odds – I smiled.

– Yeah. Hey, does your family still live there?

– Y-yeah, of course. Yeah.

– Then we should visit them someday.

– W-what?

– Well, my mother always told me Galway was the city of love for her. I must see if it’s true. – he said, winking at me.

I blushed.

– Y-yeah, we should… totally go someday. – I coushed.

– By now we could start by going to an Irish pub. Do yo now any?

– Well, there’s this one in Brooklyn that…

– Perfect! Then it’s a date. – he said, taking his bag. – I’ll get you on your room at 7, okay. – I noddd, and he kissed my forehead.

What the hell did just happen?

Translations: (i’m sorry if anything is wrong, I used the google translator. If any of you knows how to properly say it, I’d be more than happy to change it!)

Mac soith: son of a bitch

Ar ndóigh!: of course!

Cosúil le cad?: like what?

Níl mé cinnte ar chor ar bith. Tá sé cosúil le ... duillín siad díreach as dom, tá a fhios agat? Ciallaíonn mé, ní raibh mé cinnte fiú mhaith liom a bheith in ann freagra duit, ach anseo tá mé: I'm not sure at all. It's like... they just slip out of me, you know? I mean, I wasn't even sure I'd be able to answer you, but here I am.

[moonstruckbucky]

Coming Soon....

Single Dad!Steve Roges x fem!Reader  AU

Summary: Steve Rogers is in well over his head.

Warnings for Series: Angst, fluff, nanny!Reader, smut, language, probably some inaccuracies about parenthood

[angryschnauzer]

If anyone fancies some Alpha!Steve smutty goodness i have an entire masterlist...

Happy Halloween from alpha werewolf steve

Your edits are so good! I loved how these came out.

Also HAPPY HALLOWEEN as well 😘🎃

[stellar-solar-flare]

Volatile | Chapter 1/3 | Steve Rogers x Reader

Explicit - 18+ only - Minors DNI.

Steve Rogers returns from a mission only to be immediately alerted about a medical emergency: you, the Avengers Initiative's leading science expert, have been hit by a potent, unknown aphrodisiac on your own mission. Pressed for time and out of options, he has to, together with the AI's medical department, figure out a solution.

Mutual pining, smut with feelings, eventual happy ending.

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, sex pollen, non-consensual exposal to sex pollen, dubious consent because Reader is under the influence of an aphrodisiac (but all sex is very much mutually wanted), protective & possessive Steve Rogers, Captain kink, praise kink, very light dom/sub elements, dirty talk, pet names, thigh riding, finger sucking, mention of non-con.

Reader specifics: She/her. Works as a science specialist in AI under codename Dr. Chiral for her chemistry proficiency. Six times PhD, an Avenger. Late twenties, no description of appearance given.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

Chapter 1: Verona

Chapter notes: Dr. Carolina Vinterberg is my original character, a regular face in my fics. Background Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff.

3,179 words.

Over his years on Earth, and occasionally in space, Steve Rogers had seen a lot of things that had bordered on impossible and occasionally crossed well into it – his own existence not being the least. Aliens? Superweapons? Computer programs turned into sentient robots married to an actual witch? His best friend resurrected seventy years after his death and sporting a mechanical arm that could rip steering wheels out of cars? Sure. All fine. He could roll with it.

But this. This was close to taking the cake. He swallowed and folded his hands very carefully to rest behind his back as he was standing in the office of Avengers Initiative’s Head of Medicine, Dr. Carolina Vinterberg. He had been summoned the minute his jet had landed, not having had even the time to change out of the stealth suit. The shield sat strapped onto his back.

“Could you repeat that?” he said.

The doctor regarded him with her ever-calm, icy blue eyes and something about that neutral expression and neat blonde braid she always sported was so absurd, considering the situation at hand, that Steve wanted to laugh. Or scream. Or both. She was cradling a StarkPad on her arm and standing in front of a large screen that was showing toxicity profiles.

“A foreign aphrodisiac, Captain Rogers,” she stated. “Possibly of interstellar origin. Presumably affecting the hormonal levels of those who are subjected to it, resulting in heightened drive to pursue venereal gratification.”

The words made sense individually but as they were strung together, they didn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. Or rather – they did, but Steve’s head was screaming for any other explanation than the one he was deciphering. Anything but this.

“Horny,” Sam groaned from where he was sitting. “What the doc here is saying is that they both got really horny. I’m considering buying Tony a bottle of champagne for all that noise-cancelling tech. Would’ve been a long ride home otherwise.”

Steve closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, this whole nightmare would’ve vanished. God, he wasn’t looking forward to writing the strategic guidelines for future occasions of this one. Instead, when he opened his eyes, Dr. Vinterberg was regarding him as unfazed as she had been earlier.

“Sergeant Wilson is correct. Both agents subjected to the substance reached a heightened state of arousal within minutes of the exposure.”

Steve wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t. That wasn’t the priority right now.

“Did…” he coughed, even as he could tell from Sam’s expression that the answer was going to be no. “Did that result to any violations of physical kind? Anything non-consensual?”

Vinterberg shook her head, consulting the tablet as if she was reading routine blood-test results to Steve.

“It appears that the substance amplifies existing affections instead of creating them. Neither Sergeant Barnes nor Dr. Chiral expressed any interest in each other or in Sergeant Wilson, or in the medical staff that handled their quarantine, for the matter.”

“And thank god for that,” Sam muttered under his breath.

“Considering she and Sergeant Barnes were exposed to the substance simultaneously while they were investigating the laboratory, it is reasonable to assume that if it had been just a simple pheromone attack, they would’ve expressed interest in each other,” Dr. Vinterberg explained. “But that has not been the case.”

Alright. He could deal with that. The carnal nature of the substance aside, it did sound like a standard exposure to a foreign pathogen. It was a good thing that he was informed of the incident, but it seemed like both Bucky and you were still… indisposed. And Vinterberg certainly wasn’t the person to try to ease him into bad news – she would’ve led with them, if there had been any.

“So, what happened out there?” Steve asked, forcing the tone of his voice stay even.

Sam looked at him, clearly as excited to have this conversation as Steve himself was, but they both realized the need to be professionals, especially around such a delicate topic.

“We went into the laboratory and Chiral and Barnes were examining the backroom where they kept this stuff. There must’ve been some kind of invisible trigger that broke a couple of the bottles, releasing the vapor in the air. They both exited immediately and activated the quarantine protocols, but I can only assume they both got a good whiff.”

The quarantine protocols. Steve might get his own bottle of champagne for Banner and Stark for that one. All the mission Quinjets were supplied with a FRIDAY-controlled system that would, upon an agent requesting it, release a large bulletproof-glass cylinder that would surround the subject much like the Hulk Containment Field had done. With thrusters in the bottom, the cylinders would automatically float into a separate containment area on the back of the jet. They allowed for radio transmission to and from the cylinder but filtered out everything, keeping both the one subjected to a substance and other agents safe. Alright. So, that meant that Sam had probably gotten an earful once he’d gone to check on you and Bucky but otherwise, it seemed like the team had gotten off easy.

Wrong expression for the situation. Wrong. Steve nodded at Sam, absorbing the information, and turned to Vinterberg.

“Even with the mission immediately aborted, by the time the Quinjet was here, both Dr. Chiral and Sergeant Barnes were under the influence of the substance to the point that they weren’t able to act or express themselves coherently,” she said. “Considering the previously existing physical relationship between Sergeant Barnes and Agent Romanoff and the consent form signed by Agent Romanoff, I decided that the best course of treatment in Barnes’ case is to, as the idiom goes, let them ride it out. They’re currently in containment room 2A, and we’re monitoring Barnes’ vitals via the wireless sensor system but otherwise giving them privacy, unless either of them activates FRIDAY’s emergency protocols.”

Containment room. That was good news – those rooms were more hotel rooms than hospital ones, designed for quarantining the ones that needed to be quarantined but who didn’t need any further medical care. Dr. Vinterberg had the necessary authority to greenlight a decision that was, even if unconventional, clearly a treatment of a medical condition and if Nat and Bucky wanted to bang it out, good for them – that definitely didn’t need Steve’s involvement. Vinterberg sat down behind her desk and put her pad down. She didn’t look even remotely fazed as she met Steve’s eyes.

“However, Dr. Chiral’s case is much more complicated.”

No. No. No. Not you. Not this way. Not when Steve hadn’t been there to protect you. He had had a schedule conflict, another mission that had required him and Tony specifically and that old Hydra lab he’d sent you should’ve been a routine data extraction, all the intelligence information had pointed towards it... With difficulty, he reeled his spiraling thoughts back in.

“She doesn’t have a romantic, or otherwise physical, partner listed in her file. Considering her diligence with her medical paperwork and the pre-mission information updating protocols you yourself have implemented, Captain Rogers, we can safely assume that to be an accurate assessment of the situation,” Vinterberg said. “Any standard treatment option for cases like this has had no effect so far – the substance, presumably to maintain an optimal physical state for continued sexual activity, has sped up her metabolism and overclocked her entire system. She is burning all sedatives out faster than we can safely administer them, and we have legitimate medical concern for how long her heart and brain can take this. It also appears that simply achieving a climax isn’t enough to offset the effects of the substance. When comparing the data of Dr. Chiral and Sergeant Barnes, it appears that the presence of a partner is crucial.”

In any other situation, the simple image of you writhing on your bed, moaning, fingers buried in between your legs would’ve required Steve to dump a bucket of cold water on his head but now, his head was only focusing on the fact that you were in danger. Because of a mission he’d greenlit you to go to.

“Especially with no medical precedent, we are concerned that if continued, this could be fatal for Dr. Chiral,” Vinterberg said. “Which is the only reason I’m willing to relay you the information that she has, exclusively and rather explicitly, asked for you, Captain Rogers.”

For a second, Steve’s brain flashed into white static. He was pretty certain his mouth had dropped open.

“Asked me to… What exactly?”

“Participate in sexual activity with her,” Vinterberg replied, and Steve thanked all the gods that watched over universe for her robotic demeanor as a million thoughts flooded into his brain.

You wanted him. At least, some part of you wanted him. He had had his hopes, his fantasies, and he had been so close to asking you out but backed off at the last second, afraid of possible rejection affecting your working relationship. You weren’t his subordinate – as a leading science expert of the AI, you ranked as high as he did – but with the intensity of the line of work you’d chosen, there was no room for any kind of personal bad blood.

Showing aside the image of his name falling out of your lips like a feverish prayer took every last drop of Steve’s willpower. He straightened up to remind himself of the position he was in and cleared his throat.

“Even if Dr. Chiral has asked that, that’s not consent. She’s under the effects of what appears to be a drug that heavily alters consciousness. She is unable to give proper consent.”

Dr. Vinterberg nodded.

“I agree. Again, this is an unorthodox approach and from a medical standpoint, her current consent isn’t a valid one. However, with the limited timeframe and limited options, I am forced to bring this option to the table,” she said. “Sergeant Wilson is here because Dr. Chiral gave him a message to relay just prior to, effectively, losing consciousness. It was meant for you, Captain Rogers. I’d like you to listen to what he has to say before he leaves the room as we go into more detail regarding Dr. Chiral’s medical information.”

Vinterberg nodded at Sam, who turned in his chair to look Steve properly. His shoulders were tight.

“Yeah, Cap, believe me that after this I’ll be out of here before I lose the last ability to look any of you in the eye,” Sam gave him a dry laugh. “But Chiral told me to tell you – if I understood it correctly since she was shouting it through the containment chamber glass and on the verge of losing it – that she remembers the moonlight in Verona. I don’t know what that –“

“I do,” Steve said, his mouth getting drier.

Your fifth mission together, for the first time just the two of you. The moonlight dripping through the stained-glass windows in a church in Verona, the gunshot still ringing in Steve’s eyes and his palms extending over your bleeding thigh. He was had been trying so hard to not focus on the widening pool of blood underneath you that had stained the marble floor, instead looking into your eyes and counting seconds for an extraction team.

Just focus, Ace, alright. Stay with me. Look at the moonlight. Look how pretty it is. I need you to stay with me.

The look in your eyes, the softness of your face even through the pain that had had to be excruciating. Your hand, still holding the glass vial that had gotten you shot but that would also later be the downfall of an international drug operation.

I’m not scared, Steve. You’ve got me. I trust you.

In the present, both Dr. Vinterberg’s and Sam’s expectant gazes were on Steve.

“It seems to imply that she knew what she would be asking. That she wanted me to know that she trusts me.”

Dr. Vinterberg nodded. She didn’t ask further questions – she clearly understood it meant a lot to Steve but didn’t really seem to consider the details her business.

“That would be in line with the fact that in her medical file, she has granted you the power of attorney over her medical care, should she be incapacitated. There is an obvious conflict of interest here, rendering the document itself null and void, but it does highlight the trust she has. And there was a recording on her StarkWatch,” Dr. Vinterberg said. “I took a look at it, as the time it had been made coincided with the mission.”

“As is your right under the Medical Emergency Breach Protocol,” Steve nodded. “Is the recording relevant?”

“That’s for you to decide. It appears that Dr. Chiral meant to send it to you,” she said, turning to look at Sam. “Unfortunately, Sergeant Wilson, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Any further details of Dr. Chirals medical state and the recording –“

“I understand, Doc. Trust me, I got more than enough details when we started sorting this mess out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go find a tub of holy water to sink myself into.” 

Sam headed out, patting still-stunned Steve on the shoulder as he did. As soon as the door closed after him, Vinterberg tapped the buttons of her pad, and the StarkWatch on Steve’s wrist vibrated as it received a message.

“Take a look.”

Steve pressed the button on the watch to project the 4K hologram display above it. When starting the recording, you had managed to deploy the camera drone from your device, but it floated almost uncomfortably close to your face. The glass containment chamber surrounding you was so well lit that he could see every detail of your face, the drops of sweat on your temples, the sweaty sheen on your cheeks. You were drawing air in like you were drowning, your chest rising and falling with your rapid pants for air. You writhed in the skintight mission environmental protection suit that clung to your every sweet curve. It was just you, as the section you were in was separated from the one that held Bucky, for security and privacy that had proved itself to be a wise choice with this incident.

“Steve, oh, fuck, Steve, something is happening to me and I think… Oh god, I need you, I need you, please, just please…”

Steve kept his calm but only just barely. The whimpering tone of yours shot right into his veins, and a part of him was already ready to give you everything you asked, but he needed to focus. In the message, your eyes cleared up for a moment.

“Hell, I really hope this is transmitting but Steve, I think… Bucky was already asking about Nat and that probably means this isn’t mindless, that it’ll be you I’ll be asking to…” your eyes glazed back over and you ripped the zipper of your suit down, revealing a thin tank top, “Fuck, these clothes, I’m so hot, Steve, please, make the burning stop, I need you, I need you to –“

Thankful for the camera angle that blocked most of what was happening in your containment chamber, Steve kept his focus on your face as you tore the suit off and struggled with the clearly constricting bra underneath the tank top. It didn’t do him much, since the feverish, wanton look in your eyes, your mouth parted in gasps, then your teeth biting down on your lower lip as your hands cupped your own chest felt plenty indecent. He saw you try to battle for control for a few more seconds and in a feat of the same self-discipline that had made you PhD times six, you won.

“Steve, I want you. Regardless of whatever this is. I’ve wanted you since Verona and oh fuck, your hands, your big strong hands on my thigh… Steve, I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want me, they’ll find a way that doesn’t involve… you fucking me until I can’t walk, until I can’t see straight, god, if your hands are that big I wonder how big –“ you panted, then shook your head and managed to continue, speaking as fast as you could to make use of the little time you knew you had left, “I was too much of a coward to tell you in Verona and afterwards but I’ve wanted you for a long time and I really didn’t want you to find out this way but I want you, in other ways too and not just… you deep inside me, your body covering me completely as you press me against the wall, fuck, it’s so hot in here, Steve, oh, fuck, I want you to –“

The transmission cut off. Dr. Vinterberg’s poker face hadn’t even flinched. She looked at Steve.

“It only went into more and more explicit detail of her fantasies from there,” she said. “I consider this, together with the message she gave Sergeant Wilson and the fact that she has demonstrated trust in you, to be acceptable grounds to greenlight this approach, should you yourself give your consent to this, Captain Rogers. Especially when weighed against the possibility of permanent damage to Dr. Chiral’s body. It is a volatile, unpredictable situation but such is the nature of this line of work.”

You had begged for him. You had begged for him. You had wanted him since Verona, since almost six months ago, and you wanted him still. Wanted him now. Needed him.

I’m not scared, Steve. You’ve got me. I trust you.

Somewhere far away underneath the sound of blood rushing in Steve’s body, Dr. Vinterberg was talking about how both of you had been tested negative for any STDs and you were on birth control, how the sensors on your wrists would continue to measure your vitals and the medical team would be given an alert if something dangerous was happening in your system, but other than that, you would be given complete privacy. But there was only one thought in Steve’s mind anymore, pushing all others out.

“Where is she?” Steve asked.

“Containment room 2B,” Dr. Vinterberg answered, staring at your vitals on the pad. “Considering there wasn’t much we could do, we wanted her to be as comfortable as –“

As the door closed behind Steve, Vinterberg realized she was talking to an empty room. Her expression unchanged, she nodded to herself and tapped her pad to authorize Steve’s access into Containment room 2B and activate the protocol that would shut off all surveillance from the room, save for the emergency system that would keep monitoring your vitals and allow either of you to evoke safety protocols. With that done, she made a few short notes onto your file and Steve’s file, jotting down the fact that consent had been established as extensively as was possible in current circumstances. Finally, she ordered herself a latte from FRIDAY’s system and pulled up the notes for her newest research paper, slipping back into blessedly calm world of meiotic recombination.

Next Chapter >>

[stellar-solar-flare]

Volatile - S.R. - Masterlist

Explicit - 18+ only - Steve Rogers/Scientist!Reader

Steve Rogers returns from a mission only to be immediately alerted about a medical emergency: you, the Avengers Initiative's leading science expert, have been hit by a potent, unknown aphrodisiac on your own mission. Pressed for time and out of options, he has to, together with the AI's medical department, figure out a solution.

Mutual pining, smut with feelings, eventual happy ending.

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, sex pollen, non-consensual exposal to sex pollen, dubious consent because Reader is under the influence of an aphrodisiac (but all sex is very much mutually wanted), protective & possessive Steve Rogers, Captain kink, praise kink, very light dom/sub elements, dirty talk, pet names, thigh riding, finger sucking, mention of non-con.

Reader specifics: She/her. Works as a science specialist in AI under codename Dr. Chiral for her chemistry proficiency. Six times PhD, an Avenger. Late twenties, no description of appearance given. No use of Y/N.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

COMPLETE | 11,064 words.

Chapter 1: Verona | 3,179 words.

Chapter 2: Flammable | 6,198 words.

Chapter 3: Debrief | 1,687 words.

Here's this fic on AO3. | Here is my tumblr masterlist.

[avengerscompound]

Finding Home - Chapter 2

Finding Home: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x OFC (Daisy Adams)

Word Count:  3389

Warnings:  Angst, mentions of torture, violence, major character death, mentions of sexual abuse/rape, pregnancy, smut (vaginal sex, oral sex, pregnancy sex, Bisexual MMF threesome)

Synopsis:  Daisy Adams has abilities. She can read minds. Force her thoughts onto others. As a child, she is taken by Hydra and raised as a weapon. Daisy finds another and speaks to him in his dreams. He has been taken too. He wants to return to the man he loves. Can she get them back together? Will she even want to once she realizes that she’s falling in love?

Chapter 2

I sat waiting for Bucky to return or to not. I hoped that he wouldn’t. That maybe this time Steve would recognize him and say his name. That when he did, the trigger would work properly, and Bucky would go to him. I wasn’t sure how well my triggers would work though. I’d never tested them.

I was paged. He’d returned and my heart sank.

When I entered the room I could tell something was different about him. It was like he wasn’t totally the Winter Soldier. Bucky was there too. He looked at me panicked and he lashed out at one of the men working on him. The tech flew across the room and fell to the floor unconscious. An alarm was sounded, and soldiers filed into the room.

“Adams! What are you doing? Calm him!” Brian yelled at me.

“Soldier, relax,” I said, holding my hand out to him. I pressed the thought calm to him and as I approached. He seemed to relax for a minute, and suddenly he lunged at me dragging my body against his, holding me by my throat with his metal hand.

“Bu – Soldier!” I yelped. I pushed calm on him, and at the same time, I thought ‘Bucky, please. What happened?’

It helped but only a little. He didn’t let me up, but I didn’t feel like I was going to be murdered. He wouldn’t reply though. Not with his thoughts, nor with his voice. I relaxed against him. Partly just so he might relax too, but even though I knew I wasn’t safe, he could kill me at any moment, this was the most physical contact I’d ever had with Bucky and I didn’t want to be experiencing it in sheer terror. He was the only family I had and we’d only ever touched hands before.

“I don’t know what we do here.” One of the soldiers shouted. “Which asset is more important?”

“Don’t you dare shoot the soldier.” I snapped. “It’s fine. I have this. And don’t call me an asset.”

We waited. I thought soothing thoughts and tried unlocking him from his mental cage. It was difficult with the Soldier so far in control. It was likely why he was only partly there. He relaxed though. By the time Pierce came into the room, he was staring blankly ahead, I was still sitting in his lap, but his hand had moved to grip my arm.

Pierce looked right past me. “Mission report.”

Bucky’s grip tightened.

“Mission report, now!” Pierce suddenly slapped him, hard right across the face. His hand squeezed painfully on my arm and it felt like my bone was about to break. I cried out projecting the thought into Bucky. He let me go and I got up. I wanted to put my hands on him. With Pierce there, I wasn’t sure I’d get away with it.

“That man on the bridge …” Bucky said looking at Pierce. “Who was he?”

I pushed the word Steve at him.

Something passed over Pierce’s features. He looked at me and then back to Bucky. “You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”

“I knew him.”

I pushed harder. Bucky, it was Steve. Your friend. He resisted me. The soldier was holding me out. He doesn’t want to know. I don’t know why Pierce was getting Bucky, but all I was getting was the Soldier.

Pierce sat down in front of Bucky. “Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped this century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we’re gonna give it a push. But if you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine, and Hydra can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.”

“But I knew him.”

“Prep him.”

I saw it clearly, I was getting the soldier and Pierce was getting Bucky because that is what the Soldier wanted. He wanted Bucky gone for good. He was pushing Pierce to wipe him. I put my hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Like somehow that would protect him. “But he’s been out of Cryo-freeze too long,” I said desperate to stop what was about to happen. I needed to unlock him.

“Then wipe him.”

The scientists pushed me out of the way and started preparing him for full mind wipe. This would undo everything I’d done.

I put as many walls up as I could. I’d have to reset things tonight while he’s in cryo. Maybe figure out a way to have him escape next battle.

Pierce grabbed my arm, right where Bucky had been holding it. I flinched as he dragged me from the room.

“What just happened in there?”

“I guess he’s stronger than we both thought.” I shrugged. “He’s never been around someone familiar before.”

“If I find out you did something?” Pierce seethed.

I shrugged. “You’ve been having me wipe his mind for twenty years now. Has anything like this ever happened? You want me to stop? Fine. You want me to leave? Whatever. But why you’d possibly think I’d sabotage the only home I’ve ever known …”

“We are launching a strike tomorrow. I want you to be there. We can use you to sway those in SHIELD who might be unwilling to see our point of view.” Pierce said. “Can I trust you with that?”

I pushed trustworthiness on him. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you think otherwise.”

He stared at me for a minute, trying to decide if his thoughts are his or not. “Go in and take care of the asset. We are keeping him out of freeze tonight. Make sure he stays blank. Clear his mind of anything the wipe may have missed. Here are the instructions for tomorrow.” He handed me a folder. “You’ll travel with him. Hail Hydra.”

He turned and marched off. “Hail HYDRA,” I muttered under my breath.

Back in the room, the scientists were unhooking Bucky from the machine. He was totally blank.

“Bring him to my room,” I told one of the scientists. He looked at me like was insane, and I pushed the order onto him with everything I had. It made me feel dizzy when I was done, but everyone in the room complied. One thing that is good about Hydra; they never like thinking for themselves. Not having to think seems to be their major philosophy.

They led both of us to my quarters and locked us in. While I did have a little free reign around the facility, when I went to my room I was locked in until morning. With my abilities, I could avoid being taken to my room if I wanted, but the lockdown at night was automatic. No matter how much I pushed that I was one of them, my abilities made me untrustworthy, and while I was here I would always be a prisoner.

My room was a sterile white thing, with a desk and a twin bed. There were no windows and the walls and door were lined with a thick steel which blocked my thoughts from those outside. It meant that if I was acting up I couldn’t influence anyone outside to do anything. It also had the added benefit of giving me absolute silence. Something I didn’t get very often.

Bucky sat blankly on the end of my bed. I threw his instructions on my desk and crouched in front of him. I started opening up the barriers I put in his mind. Without the Winter Soldier there it’s actually easy. Slowly Bucky came out and looked around the room.

“Where am I?” He asked. He sounded a little drunk.

“In my room. What happened today?”

“I’m actually awake? Let’s get out of here!” He jumped up and went to the door. Even with his Super Soldier strength and the metal arm, that door didn’t budge.

I laughed. “Sorry, Buck. I’m just as much a prisoner here as you are. They’ll come and say your trigger words tomorrow, and you’ll be the soldier again. For now, we have to figure out a way to let you get you back so you can escape.”

He turned suddenly and approached me, touching my face first with his metal hand and then with his real one. “I can’t believe I’m me. When was I last me?”

I shook my head trailing my hands down his torso. “I don’t know. Might have been almost seventy years ago. I don’t really know what parts of your story are real. Dream stuff gets confused easily.”

“You’re a real person.” His metal thumb traced over my lip. He was gentle with it in a way I would have thought impossible. It made my skin tingle, and I wanted him to push it into my mouth so I could taste it. “I know I keep seeing you when they bring me out, but it’s for such a short time and I always feel bleary, like I’m still half in the dream. I wasn’t sure if I invented you to keep me company.”

“Bucky. You have to focus. I need to know what hap -” My words are cut off by his mouth on mine. His kiss was urgent and hungry. He had been wanting this affection for longer than I’ve been alive. I wrapped my arms around his waist my hands traveling up his back. I opened my mouth for him and his tongue pushed inside. I pressed mine against it and caressed my lips against his. When he finally had had enough we pulled apart panting.

His hands remained on my cheeks and he looked down at me like he couldn’t believe I was real. His thoughts were confused. He wanted me, but he wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t tell if what he felt is a real love for me and that the desire had come from that or if it was just that I was warm and he was him for the first time in so long. The thought of me as a child kept entering his head. It made him feel guilty and dirty.

I don’t want to use my abilities on him but I’ve started to think I’m not going to have any choice. “You’re really here, Bucky. This isn’t a dream. We don’t have a lot of time though. They’re going to use you again tomorrow. We need to figure out how to stop them.”

“Can I – I just – it’s been …”

His thoughts overwhelmed me. He just wants affection.

I led him to my bed and pushed him down onto it.

“Lie down,” I said and he complied. I crawled into the bed next to him and he wrapped his arms around me. I could hear his heartbeat, it’s running fast. Waking him up was a mistake. My fingers trace along his face. “Tell me what happened today. Do you remember?”

“I remember everything they make me do.” He said sadly. “I saw Steve, and we fought. For a long time. I think whatever you did worked because I was holding back. He knocked my mask off, and he recognized me.”

He stopped talking, but I can hear his thoughts. Steve said his name, and just as I’d planted Bucky became conscious. The Winter Soldier had been too strong for him though. I don’t know how I can counteract that. If the Soldier is dominant, I don’t think there’s anything I can do to suppress him. Not without the machine they use to wipe him. It was hard enough just calming him down when I was present. There is no way I can make sure he’d be able to break free totally.

“Was it hard sharing your body with the Soldier?”

“I – I -” His mind is full of turmoil. It was awful. I’m scared whatever I do to him tonight will mean he has to live with the Soldier forever.

“It’s okay. I can see.” I touched his lips with my fingers and he lent down and kissed me.

I ground my hips against him without even meaning to. It’s like my body reacted to him and was completely out of my control. His cock hardened against me and I felt guilty. I couldn’t tell if those were my feelings or his intruding on me. Is it guilt for making him want me like this? Or guilt because he still keeps thinking of me as a child?

“I’m not a kid, Bucky. And you never really knew me as one. Not really.”

He laughed, it’s the first genuine sign of happiness I’ve seen since he woke up. “You see that, huh?”

“I see everything. I see how you want to take me on a date, buy me flowers, kiss me at the door. I see how that makes you feel guilty because you also want to do that with Steve. I see how you’re thinking about what my pussy tastes like. I see how you want to stick your finger in it, not your real fingers though, these ones.” I take his cybernetic hand in mine and push it against my crotch. “I can see how you wonder if Steve would like to share me with you. That maybe if you introduced the idea of both of you having sex with me, that might get you both in bed together. I can also see the really dark stuff. Like how you want to choke me as I come. How you just want to take me now to shut me up.”

Bucky blinked at me. I’d shocked him, but strangely he was not embarrassed. He is so used to me just being in his head, he doesn’t consider it an intrusion anymore. He’s just surprised that I’d say those things out loud. “And what are you thinking?” He asks. He’s turned it into a game.

I pushed my thoughts on him. Thoughts of me naked, spread for him slick with sweat as he pounds away at me, holding me by the throat. Of me on my knees sucking his cock. All the thoughts of the things I want to do to him, and I want him to do to me. Even the ones I don’t really want at all.

“Wow, I didn’t think dames thought like that at all.” Bucky grinned when I’m done. He rolled over, so he was above me, I spread my legs and he ground against me.

“In my experience, almost everyone thinks like that. I’ve only met a few people who haven’t.”

He started kissing me along my body. He took hold of my shirt with his metal hand and just tore it like it was made of paper. I gasped and arched into him, aching for him to be rough with me too. His mouth moved to my breast and he flicked at my nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. My skin tingled and I hummed. He slipped his hand into the waistband of my pants, the cold metal pushed between my folds, finding my clit immediately. A jolt shot through my body and I tensed up.

“Bucky?”

He hummed as a way of a response.

“Can you feel things with you’re prosthetic arm?”

He pushed a finger into my cunt, and at the same time as I felt the cold steel push into me, I was taken over by the feeling of warmth and wetness squeezing against unyielding metal.

I groaned loudly at the sensory overload. No one has ever pushed their thoughts onto me like that before. I can seek them out, and I always have them as background noise, but that was new. Maybe the connection I’d kept with Bucky all these years had changed him a little. Made us permanently connected.  He’d worked out a way to use it.

Bucky released my nipple from his mouth and looked up at me, a wicked smile spread over his face. “I felt that. You nearly came.” He hooked his finger inside of me, and his thumb countered the pressure he is created inside me by pressing against my clit. It sent a spark through me, and I moaned, clutching at the sheets.

“Stay in my head while I eat you out.” He purred.

Eat you out. Did people back in the forties use that term or did he get it from me? I opened my mind to him allowing us both to share our feelings.

He pulled my pants off and tossed them aside, and began nuzzling at my crotch. The scent of my cunt filled me and I could feel myself getting even wetter than I already was. He spread my folds and he flattened his tongue, running it up my crevice, tasting me. My mouth watered as the sweet musky flavor of myself mixed with the feeling of his tongue sending shivers through my body. His fingers pushed back inside me and he moved them in and out as he swirled his tongue over my clit.

“Oh fuck.” I groaned, arching off the mattress.

He liked how I tasted and he was enjoying how my body was responding to him. Which in turn made my responses even stronger. I felt like I was coming apart. As I reached my climax I close my mind off to him, worried that the feeling of my orgasm in his mind would set him off. So when I came, it is me alone, clenching around his fingers, crying out.

He swiped his tongue one last time along my slit and sat up. “You cut me off.” He grinned, as he began unfastening his pants.

“I was worried it would be too much.” I panted.

He laughed. “Yeah, it might have been. I still felt you projecting it a little. It was pretty intense.”

“This connection we have is strange, don’t you think? I’ve never had that before.”

He laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve been talking to you entirely in dreams for the last twenty years. That’s probably a little stranger. I’m not sure what’s normal anymore.”

He pushed his pants off and stalked over my body. I pulled him into a kiss actually tasting myself for the first time ever. He aligned his cock with the entrance to my cunt, and a brief thought passed through my head. We have no protection. This is reckless.

He entered me and the thought is gone. I tensed around him and clung to his neck. We moved together, grinding, thrusting rolling out hips as our mouths clashed against each other.

I pushed the need to be on top to him, and he took hold of me and rolled us over. I sat up leaning on his shoulders. I ran my finger down where his flesh met steel.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

He shook his head and I started rolling my hips against him. Hands stroked down my body, his thumbs grazed over my nipples as they moved downwards. His fingers found my clit and he gripped onto my hip as I rocked against him.

I clenched down and started to really ride him, rocking back and forth, bouncing against him. He sat up, wrapping his arms around me holding me to him as I brought us both closer to climax. He bit down into my shoulder, setting me over, I came again cursing out loudly.  He followed closely spilling inside me and collapsing back onto the bed.

I lay down next to him, my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling the bed covers up. I reached above us turning the lights out.

“Bucky,” I whisper.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m scared that this is all you’re gonna get. This is your last day where you get to be you and not him. The way the soldier fought to stay in control, I don’t know how to override that without the mind wipe machine.”

He placed a kiss on my head. “Well thank you for at least giving me one more day. I know whatever happens after this, you were trying to help.”

He drifted off to sleep, and I spend the night working on his mind, finding things to help bring him back, and take control from the Soldier.

// NEXT

[scarletolsens-blog]

Heritage

I sit on the couch, taking off my heels. I sighed. It had been a rough day. I had had a meeting, where all the questions were about my father, and none of them about my own discoveries. I  was angry. It was getting worse and worse. It didn’t matter what I did, they’d always ask about my father.

I heard some steps, and then I felt a weight on top of me.

– Hello – he said, laughing, and kissing my cheek.

– Hey, babe. – I smiled.

– How was the meeting?

– Awful. As always.

– Your father again?

– Yeah… - I said, stroking my boyfriend’s hair. – I just can’t understand why they don’t ask him. I have my own business, I have my own answers! Why don’t they ask me about me? Just a little “hey Y/N, how is your research going?”. Is it really that hard.

He shook his head.

– I don’t know, doll. I think people are too stupid to say what an intelligent woman they have in front of them.

– You say that so I don’t leave you.

– I say that because it’s true. Honey, most of the time I go to your office you’re talking to someone, and the only things I understand are the articles. Not even verbs!

– That’s because you’re like one hundred years old. – I kissed his forehead.

– No. It’s because you’re really good at what you do. Better than your dad, actually.

– Don’t say it too loud, or he’ll cancel the wedding. – I laughed.

– It’s the true. You’re the best, and I’m very proud of you.

– Thank you – I smiled. – Hey, you know what?

– What?

– They asked me about you.

– Really?

– Yeah.

– What did they ask?

– I shouldn’t tell.

– Come on, tell me!

– They wanted to know if I had experimented on you.

– What?

– Well, they think I’m trying to reproduce the serum.

– And what did you tell?

– That we don’t experiment on that way.

– Y/N!

– I’m sorry! It’s the truth.

He hid his face on my neck.

– I love you so much, Rogers.

– I love you too, Rogers-to-be.

I smiled, and kissed his head. That man made me the happiest woman in this world.

[the-literary-universe-of-ssf]

New chapter.

Volatile | Chapter 2/3 | Steve Rogers x Reader

Explicit - 18+ only - Minors DNI.

Steve Rogers returns from a mission only to be immediately alerted about a medical emergency: you, the Avengers Initiative's leading science expert, have been hit by a potent, unknown aphrodisiac on your own mission. Pressed for time and out of options, he has to, together with the AI's medical department, figure out a solution.

Mutual pining, smut with feelings, eventual happy ending.

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, sex pollen, non-consensual exposal to sex pollen, dubious consent because Reader is under the influence of an aphrodisiac (but all sex is very much mutually wanted), protective & possessive Steve Rogers, Captain kink, praise kink, very light dom/sub elements, dirty talk, pet names, thigh riding, finger sucking, mention of non-con.

Reader specifics: She/her. Works as a science specialist in AI under codename Dr. Chiral for her chemistry proficiency. Six times PhD, an Avenger. Late twenties, no description of appearance given.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

<< Previous chapter

Chapter 2: Flammable

Chapter notes: This is just smut with some feelings thrown in. Read the content warnings before divign in, please, and do not proceed if any of that isn't for you.

6,198 words.

As Steve stepped through the airlock into the dim-lit containment room, you untangled yourself from the tangled sheets on the king size bed. The air condition was blasting but despite that, the only thing you had on was a white, thin t-shirt type hospital gown that was not doing a damn thing to hide your peaking nipples. It fell onto your mid-thigh, and while under some other circumstances, it might’ve been reasonably modest, right now it clung onto your damp skin tighter than a bathing suit as you moved to sit on your knees on the bed. There was a feverish glaze clouding your eyes as Steve locked the airlock door behind himself. Other than the bed and a small desk with a chair, there was a table loaded with water bottles and some fruit and protein bars you had obviously not even touched. The muted color scheme – a neutral combination of blues, greys and whites made the room feel like a hotel room or a set in a movie. The bed you sat on was a small ocean of tangled satin sheets, and the thought of you rolling in those in feverish wanton need…

“Steve,” you said, your throat dry.

His eyes raked over you, ever so slowly, and as he did, he saw your breath quicken. You didn’t seem to really believe that he was there. Maybe you had fantasized about this before he had stepped in. Maybe you had fantasized about him. Even with everything you’d said on the tape, all the things you wanted him to do to you that were now playing on repeat in his head, he just wasn’t quite sure he could believe that it wasn’t just the aphrodisiac talking.

But whether you wanted him for anything beyond this room or for just this moment, it was clear you trusted him. You trusted him to help you out in this situation, with something this incredibly intimate and volatile and vulnerable, and there was no force in the universe that would’ve made him deny you. Especially when that meant that he could touch you. There was no other reasonable solution to this. That choice had been taken away from him, and that meant he could let go. And maybe… Just maybe…

I was too much of a coward to tell you in Verona. That made two of you. And this certainly wasn’t the way he had envisioned this going down but he would be lying if he said that whatever that was coming was a task he was reluctant to take on. His eyes stayed on your naked, glistening thighs like he’d been possessed. The room reeked of you, the pheromones of your arousal whispering sweet invitation to him, and Steve gathered every last shred of his self-control as he reached for a water bottle on the table with one hand and put the shield down to lean against the wall with the other.

“Hey, Ace,” Steve whispered. “You asked for me.”

You blinked at the sound of his voice and scooted to the edge of the bed, standing up. It could’ve been a hallucination conjured up by your feverish brain. And you could’ve hallucinated a lot worse than Steve stepping through the airlock of the room in the stealth suit of all things. But his voice sounded familiar – it echoed through your hazed state like a beacon in the night. You had been aching for him, for his touch, every last bit of your soul and body calling out for him. And he had heard. He had come to you.

“Are you here?” you whispered back, trying to make sense of it.

He hadn’t been there in the lab. There had been only Bucky, and Sam, and both had smelled wrong. Both had been wrong. You wanted just Steve; you had always wanted just him. Verona. Moonlight. Words that seemed to have no bearing to anything that was happening now when the only thing your throbbing blood was saying was Steve. You weren’t sure if you had been waiting for him for hours or for days or for centuries or for seconds, lying on the bed and floating in the half-delusional myriad of fantasies, touching yourself to the images of him but feeling no relief to the burning.

“I am, doll,” Steve said. “I’m yours if you want me. And only if you want me. The second you tell me to stop, I will.”

No. You absolutely weren’t going to do that. No chance in hell, when you finally had him.

Even in the small room, walking up to him seemed to take an eternity. His scent was faintly of musk and leather, mixed with something and something that might’ve been blood. It blended seamlessly into the deep, masculine note of the sandalwood-based cologne he always wore, blended with cedar and cypress and rosewood; a fresh forest smell that made your mouth water. In stealth suit, fresh from a mission. Shoulders accentuated by the uniform cut, wide chest above a flat stomach, strong thighs, large hands. He was the epitome of the masculine V shape, and he was yours. In the stealth suit.

By the time you reached him, you were barely able to hold yourself upright on your shaking legs. But Steve would’ve never let you fall. Before your legs could give underneath you, his free arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to rest against his body. The pleasantly cool, smooth Kevlar-like material of his suit felt like heaven against your body as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. He was looking at you, studying the fever burning in your eyes as you shivered upon the contact. Without letting go of you, he opened the water bottle.

“I need you to drink,” he murmured. “Your vitals said you’re dehydrated. You’ll need your strength.”

Obediently, you turned your head to the side and allowed him to lift the bottle to your lips. You hadn’t felt thirsty until you actually tasted the cool water Steve carefully held for you, but after the first sip, you greedily chugged the whole bottle. Steve’s eyes stayed fixated on your lips as you did, and he didn’t turn his gaze even as he put the empty bottle on the table and grabbed another.

“Still thirsty?” he asked.

The whole length of your body was pressed against his, and his thigh had slipped between yours to stabilize you further. Even through the fabric, he could feel against his palm how hot your skin was. You had come to him, out of your free will – as free as it could be under the influence of the aphrodisiac – and you were there, now, rising to your tiptoes and pressing your face against the crook of his neck before drawing a deep breath in. Just the scent and the presence of him seemed to calm you down, and maybe that meant he shouldn’t –

Your tongue licked a long, languid stripe over the side of Steve’s neck, tasting the salt of his skin and the musk that was simply Steve. As you did, your hips – the bare, soaking wet, burning apex of your thighs – rolled against his thigh, and the high whimper that left your mouth made every single thought empty from his head. He barely registered the drizzle of cool water that hit his cheek as the water bottle he had been holding had exploded in his flexing hand. As you lifted your head to look at him, not even noticing the water that had also hit you, Steve dropped the crushed remnants of the bottle and raised his hand to cup your cheek. Every single cell in his body was alight, painfully aware that you were still rocking yourself against his thigh, slight graceful movements of your hips chasing that delicious friction.

“Tell me you want me,” Steve whispered, looking into your eyes. “I need to hear it one more time. Tell me you want this.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a second, Steve felt like you saw everything, every single last fantasy he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom over the last few months, every thought of his that screamed how much he wanted this. But then, as his name left your lips in a desperate whimper that came combined with you pressing even tighter against his body, he realized that was all your lust. Heightened by the aphrodisiac but yours.

“Steve. I want you. I need you. Steve, please.”

His lips came down on yours, rough, greedy, claiming, and your body caught fire with that taste of his, that control and command that laced the kiss. Lust so violent that nothing you had felt during previous hours or ever in your life could compare slammed into you, crumbling into beautiful, empty whiteness everything except Steve. Your hands clawed on the suit, desperately trying to figure out how to get the damn thing off and have all that warm, masculine skin against yours. With his every single brain cell consumed by the kiss, Steve’s hand moved on muscle memory as he released the suit’s cleverly hidden clasps, the arm draped across your back never leaving its position. It was you, just you, your taste and your warmth and the delicious, tiny sounds you were breathing into the kiss as his mouth pressed against yours and his tongue ran over the pout lower lip he had stared more than he should’ve during all the meetings, his head running off with fantasies of just bending you over the damn briefing table and having his way.

His. You were his.

As the clasps opened, you yanked the suit almost violently down to bundle around Steve’s trim waist, and then finally, finally you could get your hands on all that muscle covered by silky skin. Had your lust-shorting brain had any remnant of control, you would’ve thought that it was almost ridiculous how he looked like a Greek god, how it was not possible for a human to be this chiseled artwork but frankly, you weren’t too concerned by that. He broke the kiss only to look at you, a large palm grabbing hold of your gown and yanking, and as the fabric gave like butter, he tossed it aside. It was his turn to get his hands everywhere, running over every curve of yours as you arched in his touch. Your hips rocked back and forth against the strong thigh between yours, and as he tensed the muscles, you whimpered. The fabric, smooth as it was, was almost too much in your overwired state and yet, you couldn’t imagine moving an inch as Steve’s dark gaze was fixed on your face.

“That’s my thigh, honey. Does that feel good?” he rasped, his hands moving to cup your butt for added stability as your own thighs trembled.

In response, you yanked his mouth down back on yours, delirious for the taste of him.  Steve’s skin was warm and you had an inkling it should’ve been feeling like it was overheating you even more but instead it seemed to help you concentrate onto something other than your burning. Every thought was emptying from your head as the coil was tightening in your belly, heat pooling down down down and sizzling with a promise of a climax that might finally bring at least a drop of relief. God, he smelled gorgeous. He was still fresh home from a mission, and there was that hint of pure peak of man in his scent that made you whine as you chased the peak.

“Steve… Feels so good…” you moaned to his lips.

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss onto your jawline and ghosting his lips down to whisper straight into your ear. “I’m going to make you come for me until it’s all out. I’ve got you now, honey. Let me take care of you. Let me see you come undone.”

Coming on his thigh, with those words falling into your ear like dark warm sugar, had sometime in the past felt like a filthy fantasy, and it was filthy, but it was exactly the right kind of filthy. The climax, coaxed further by his words, struck like a lightning, finally giving you a hint of shade when you had been lying on the desert sand. It was nowhere near enough, and the moment you stopped trembling and opened your eyes, the heat was already creeping back up. You needed more.

Good thing that Steve was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

I’m yours if you want me.

Keeping your eyes in his, still panting for air, you pressed your palm flat against the washboard of his stomach and slid your hand down, past the bundled suit on his waist, past the waistline of his boxers. Your fingers brushed tentatively over the base of his cock and then wrapped around it as you swallowed at the sensation of the size of him. He was burning hot in your hand and despite all his self-control that bordered on superhuman, he was breathing in ragged pants as your hand slowly caressed him.

“I need you,” you whispered.

And oh, he would give. The next thing you knew, you were being backed against the wall of the room as he tore the suit completely off and kicked his boots away, and then yes, all of him slamming you against the wall, all that glorious godlike physique yours to…

keep?

The thought circled somewhere around the edges of your scattered brain that was more concerned by the fact that you were being hauled up to the wall and his fingers were brushing up your thighs and –

“Oh fuck, honey,” he groaned as his calloused hand slid over your soaking wet core. “Oh jesus.”

All those times he’d fantasized about you. All those pictures he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom, all those ways he had imagined he would make you sing. All within his grasp. His lips were ghosting your ear, a gentle tug of teeth here and there and you both never wanted this to stop and needed it to stop because you wanted more, more, more, everything he could and wanted to give you. Steve’s voice was low and strained as he carefully slid a finger inside you:

“So wet for me,” he whispered. “So greedy.”

He was easily holding you up on the wall by one arm slipped under your butt as his other hand worked your core, the heel of his palm rubbing gently against your clit. Even as you were sensitive from the drug, it was a different kind of sensitive, something that made you whine and wither on his touch not out of discomfort but out of pleasure you hadn’t quite imagined possible. The chase for that primal satisfaction had you shameless; coming for him just minutes before had been a sip of cooling water but what raged inside you was a wildfire that had evaporated the relief almost as soon as the last wave had washed over you.

You needed more than his fingers. You needed to be full of him.

“Steve… Just fuck me, please.”

Steve Rogers was a strong man, but there was no possibility that he could’ve resisted the feverish plea that fell from your lips, you calling out to him, you asking to…  He wasn’t even thinking about resisting, no, the second the words had left your mouth he was shifting your weight in his hands.

“Don’t worry, doll, I said I’m yours,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will. That’s what you asked me to do, didn’t you? To fuck you against the wall like this, with my cock deep inside you?”

You barely recalled the words, the message you had sent, and it mattered fuck all now that he was here, lining up to finally, finally, finally give you what you wanted.

“That was a question, doll,” he rasped, his forehead pressed against yours and sweat sprinkling on it from the effort of trying to maintain at least an inkling of composure.

“Yes. Yes. I need you. I need you to fuck me and I need you to come for me; I need you to come inside me.”

You were so needy for him that he slid inside the second he pushed against you but despite the wetness, despite the burning, it was still a sensation that made your head drop back against the wall as you adjusted to his size. God, yes. This sensation of being full of him, precisely him and not just anyone, had been something you had craved from the second the sweet vapor had floated into your system.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock slammed into Steve’s brain, the force of the impact pushing out anything and everything except for the feral, primal animalistic need to keep doing precisely what he was doing. You were helplessly pressed between him and the wall, squeezing him, and with his hands full of your body and his ears full of your sweet moans, he was certain he was approaching some sort of ascension.

“Good girl,” his low, hoarse voice filled your ears like warm syrup. “You’re being so good for me.”

The feeling of your walls clenching even harder around his cock made him chuckle against the skin of your neck. He was throbbing inside you at the feeling, wanting this to last and wanting to chase the release he knew would be out of this world. You were burning hot in his hand, clawing at his back, incoherent at the feeling of him pressed against you and sheathed to the hilt inside you, his hips rocking with torturously slow pace that was pushing you towards the edge again.

“You like that, don’t you? You like me telling you how perfect you are for me, how well you’re taking my cock, doll?”

You were so close, so so so close again, and this time, it was going to be even better than it had been coming on his thigh. He had you, just like he always had you back on the field, that’s what you loved about him among many other things, the control, the command… And he had asked you a question. Before you could think, the words fell out of your mouth:

“Yes, Captain.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. In that second, someone poured a gallon of gasoline over Steve and threw a lit match to follow. Your words scorched every last cell in his body, the way his title rolled off your tongue making his head spin. His eyes flared into a blue inferno and his body slammed tighter against you as he lost his rhythm for a moment before stalling. You met his eyes and swallowed, because something had changed. Steve Rogers had dipped into Captain America, and you had seen that gaze of a hunting predator in his eyes on the field but had never imagined it in a context like this.

Truth be told, you had. But you had never imagined it would one day stare at you in the eye, his cock deep inside you. He had stopped, and you were barely coherent, swaying right there on the edge for him.

“Is that so, doll?” he chuckled, smiling like a shark that had smelled blood. “You want your captain to take the reins? You want to just focus on being a good girl and doing what you’re told?”

Your brain ways beyond being able to form anything resembling a sentence, you faced his gaze and nodded. You did trust him, from the bottom of your heart – you had known the moment you had started succumbing to this that if there was one person you trusted to get you out of this, it was Steve Rogers.

Your Captain.

The second your head moved in agreement, he slammed his mouth on yours, his hips moving to retreat almost completely out of you and then right back in with force that told you he had been holding back. And you wanted, needed, had to have everything of his. You buried your nails to his back as he ravaged you, his pace almost inhumanly fast but not for a second hurting. He would never. The climax that had been building itself up by coiling your entire body tighter and tighter was almost on the edge of snapping, almost almost almost –

“So fucking wet for me. So perfect for your captain. Come on my cock, honey. Let me have it.”

“STEVE!”

The fire that washed over you rivaled a supernova and you could feel your muscles clamp down on Steve’s cock almost desperately, and the combination of that and his name ripping from your throat in a desperate sob was too much for Steve, too. With one final thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could and came, your core fluttering around him in a way that awakened some deep, deep hunger inside him. He knew how you felt now, he knew how his name sounded dripping from your lust-crazed lips, he knew how wet you were for him.

He was so utterly, utterly ruined.

During the momentary lapse back to reason, he ran a hand over your hot cheek, looking into your eyes. You both were breathing in gulps of air as Steve slowly slid you down the wall, sliding out of you and pulling you to him. His hands landed possessively over your hips, and you hummed in pleasure, positively drunk over the feeling of being his, completely unashamed of anything as he kissed you.

“You did so well, honey. So good for me. I’ve got you; we’ll get through this,” he murmured against your mouth.

He wasn’t done with you – not for himself, and not for you. Not by a long shot. He could feel the burning on your skin, and when he mouthed the pulse point on your neck, he could still tell that your heart was beating like a hummingbird. And the second your hand dived between your bodies and wrapped around his cock again, he was hard for you.

God bless the serum and the heightened testosterone that followed. Even as his plans for you sat firmly in the realm of unholy.

The second you touched him, his palm covered the nape of your neck, grabbing it firmly to make you look up to his eyes. The climax wasn’t the relief you had been hoping for, not yet, it was something worse and something better, a tease, a promise of eventual one but not yet, not before you would come for Steve again and again and again. As of now, you were burning, burning still. Burning for him.

“The bed. On your hands and knees,” he growled, and you obeyed.

Of course you did. When he said it like that, just like he did on missions, it was a sign that he had the control and you could trust him. It was alright. You could let go. You could forget everything and let him lead, and there was freedom in that. The surrender was a cherry on the top of the lust boiling in your body, and when you felt him kneel on the bed behind you, his large palms caressing over your thighs and hips, you shivered. He leaned over you, above you, and you could more sense than feel his broad shoulders shadowing you as he kissed the back of your neck. You were trembling in anticipation as you felt him position himself against you, almost pushing into you but not quite. Not yet.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, his voice a dark whisper on your neck. “So good at following orders.”

“Yes, Captain. Please, I need… Please.”

Steve chuckled, and his teeth carefully nibbed your shoulder before he talked again:

“Good girls get rewarded.”

Any chance of you forming a reply to the words was gone the second he pushed himself back inside you, and the angle had him brushing against every single perfect spot inside you. He was so deep, even deeper than he had been and you threw your head back in crazed whimper. He was still draped over your back, and his left hand slipped under your body, pulling you tighter against him.

“Up, honey,” he rasped into your ear.

It was more a warning than an order, because in the next second, he had shifted on the bed to sit on his heels, pulling you flush against his chest as you straddled his thighs. He was all hard muscle and musky masculinity behind and underneath you. He positioned an arm between your breasts so that you were almost caged in his grip, his palm spreading possessively over your collarbone as his breath tickled your ear. Instinctively, you moved in his lap, arching back and grabbing the back of his neck for support even as his arm held you in place with ease. His bicep felt impossibly wide as it pressed against your side but you were far more focused on the fact that he was deep enough in you that he was hitting places you weren’t aware had existed. You flexed your thighs to cradle his in between, and god, those thighs were like two tree-trunks. The curve of your butt was pressed against the washboard of his stomach, and you felt his free hand caress the side of your hip before it roamed to your inner thigh. He still wasn’t moving, even as you were slightly rocking yourself back and forth, his patience almost impossible.

“Easy, doll. We’ve got all night,” he said, but contrary to his words, he pressed two fingers to draw small circles over your clit as he finally, finally moved. “We’ve got as long as you need.”

“Steve…” you whined as he rolled his hips.

He moved his hips and your entire body with such ease that you could feel electricity crackling on your skin. It was this apex of a man buried deep inside you, this impossible demigod that was so under your spell that he was already panting against your neck.

“I’m right here, honey. Fuck, you’re so tight,” he said. “Squeezing me so good.”

His far too teasing fingers brushed over your clit in time of his rubbing thrusts, and you were being wound tighter and tighter, another climax already building inside you and the peak was building higher than you had ever felt it, preparing for the collapse that was as inevitable as it had been to end up right here.

“I’m yours.”

“Oh yes you are, doll. All mine. Looking so pretty on my cock.”

Steve was mouthing the side of your neck, grazing with his teeth until he found a spot that made you whimper and latched onto that, sucking firm enough to leave a mark. You pushed your hips forward against his fingers, trying to get more pressure, trying to get him to move faster. The second you did, he pulled you back tighter against himself, preventing you from moving on your own but continuing to move both of your bodies himself.

“You’re going to let me, doll,” he growled. “You wanted to let go. So let go. Relax. Let your captain take care of you.”

He brought his fingers up from between your legs to your lips and you let your jaw drop open without a thought at all to taste the salty, tangy combination of you and him. As your mouth closed around his fingers in wet, warm softness, Steve moaned a strained curse against the your shoulder and picked up the pace.

You were gone. You were floating somewhere beyond all reality, somewhere where the only thing that existed was the man behind you and inside you and the burning in your veins that craved. Him, this, anything he could and would give you.

The feeling of you sucking on his fingers and your soaked core trying to desperately keep him from retreating as he moved his hips, your muscles clenching around his cock, was beyond Steve’s wildest fantasies. He was beyond any conscious thought whatsoever, his brain focused only on thought of spending the rest of his life buried deep inside you, pulling a peak after peak after peak from you until you were all spent and all his. With a lewd, wet sound, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth despite your whiny protest and pressed them again at your core to continue touching you in sync with his movements. You were almost there, strung tight with desire in his lap, your core slick and burning around his cock. He mouthed a path from your neck to your earlobe and teased it with his teeth, his breath hot and filthy and dripping with sin in your ear as you whimpered.

“You’re going to come for me, love. You’re going to come for your captain,” he rasped, the authority unquestionable. “That’s an order.”

His words pushed you right over the edge, collapsing the mountain that had been rising from the sea within you and the earthquake that came did Steve in, too. You could hear him moan your name into your ear as he came, the feeling of you irresistible as you came undone for him. It was an explosion that scorched through you, a heat that consumed the previous burn that had been in you, swallowed it whole like an exploding supernova swallowed a galaxy. Whole, and without mercy. It sent you falling back into what felt like a cooling pool of water after you had been catching fire, after a whole day spent in the scorching sun.

The whiteness that came after was still and absolute for a second or two and then you felt Steve’s chest rumble behind your limp body, his cock still buried deep inside you and his hands holding you so close.

“Better?” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Yes,” you whispered.

It was. You were starting to feel like you weren’t going to spontaneously combust but even as it was the case, you were far from exhausted, and Steve chuckled again as he felt your core flutter around him.

“Not done?”

You shook your head and he retreated back, kissing your temple and then whispering into your ear:

“Good. Cause I’m far from being done with you, too.”

In the late night, you descended back into your body from somewhere between fever dream and consciousness to find yourself comfortable in bed. A shape like a warm rock wall was pressed against your back, and you were being held in strong arms: safe. So safe. At some point during the night, when you had been finally feeling like you could sleep, Steve had carried you to the shower and spent long minutes washing your body. And of course, you had returned the favor, and gotten a taste of him. And of course, Steve had been able to take only so much of you kneeling on the shower floor with his cock in between your plush lips before he had had to haul you up and slowly, almost languorously have you against the tiled wall. And of course, you had come for him one more time even as you had been forced to consider that the next climax might be the one to shut your brain off completely.

There were worse ways to go.

In the dark room, wrapped in satin sheets that would probably have to be burned after this, you stirred once more. A gentle breath tickled the back of your neck, and even half asleep, you felt your lust wake, heat pooling into the bottom of your stomach and tingling all over your skin. The past few hours seemed like a pleasant, hazy dream that still caressed your body.

More. More more more more.

The greediness of your hindbrain coaxed you back to life. You rocked your hips back against the man that was spooning you, and drowsily whispered his name, still unsure which part of you actually knew it was him.

“Steve.”

The answer to your whimper was a dark chuckle and a slightly sleepy kiss onto your earlobe.

“Right here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Do you need me again?”

“Need you. Want you,” you whined, rocking your hips again, satisfied to feel that he was already hard.

Wanting you as much as you wanted him. One of the hands that held you slid down to grab your hips and roll you onto your back, and in the next second, he leaned over you to kiss you even as his hand slid down your stomach. Your renewed desire had you already wet for him again, and he groaned as he parted your folds to feel it.

“God, doll, how do you ever expect me to get enough of you when you feel like this?”

He positioned himself over you again, trailing slow, teasing kisses down your stomach as you tried to rock up to coax him on. His hands were roaming up and down your body, caressing your skin with the lightest of touches and stopping to squeeze every now and then.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

That lit a fire. Steve let out a harsh, ragged breath and moved down to sink his face in between your legs. There was no tentativeness to it this time, not after he’d spent the last twelve or so hours thoroughly exploring you, making note of every way you reacted to his touch. He knew what to do, and a proud shiver, like a predator shaking its fur dry, shot down his spine.

His. You were his.

He was absolutely merciless, his tongue never letting up even as your whimpers of his name grew louder with every movement. He was holding you down by your hipbones, your thighs resting on his shoulders, not letting you move an inch. The burning blue flames of his eyes looked at you as you writhed and whined and moaned his name for him, and a reminder of his eidetic memory crossed your mind. He would remember this, and the way he was looking at you, he was making sure that he would get every single detail. As he gently buried two fingers inside you, you were certain that you would’ve jumped on the bed had his arm not been firmly resting on top of your hips.

“I want to wake you up like this every day,” he whispered hoarsely, his head still in between your thighs. “I want the first thing you feel in the morning to be coming apart on my tongue, and I want to go out into the world with your sweet voice moaning my name echoing in my ears.”

Yes. Yes. Yes, please.

“Fuck, Steve…”

He cursed at the sensation of you clamping down on his fingers, desperate for the sensation of being full again because you were ruined, ruined, utterly ruined by him. There would not be going back from this, not after being loved and worshipped and fucked like this by someone who was closer to a god than a man.  

“Come for me, love,” he whispered against you, command and a plea at the same time.

What was there to do but obey as his fingers curled up, brushing against a sensitive spot inside you, and the endearment fell from Steve’s lips like a confession you had been waiting for?

The minute you returned to your senses, the self-satisfied chuckle that rumbled from between your legs gave you no other option than to beg for him to fill you? And with how wrapped around your finger he had already been for months, you could’ve asked Steve to fetch you the moon and the stars, and he would’ve obeyed without question. To sheathe himself inside you was certainly not a tall order, especially not with how you wrapped your limbs around him, trying to get him as close as possible.

It was love. It had to be, wrapped into the scarlet-red silks of lust as it now was.

When it finally settled down again, your voice hoarse from screaming his name into the dim room that was luckily very well soundproofed, he still wanted to hold you close. His fingers traced lazy patterns over your back.

“God, I should’ve said something in Verona,” he rasped into your hair as your warm weight rested against his chest. “About how much of an embarrassing crush I had on you.”

You shifted closer, soaking in the comfort of being cherished and wanted and protected like this, and when you smiled against his skin, you were already halfway back in a dream. It certainly was an unconventional beginning, and as the aphrodisiac was almost out of you, one sardonic part of your brain was wondering how you’d spin the beginning of this love story for the press. Which would certainly be foaming at the mouth when it found out two Avengers were dating.

“Maybe you should say that tomorrow, then,” you whispered.   

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

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