#steve rogers fanfics

[georgiapeach30513]

Nothing You Could Do, Part 1

Summary: You were just a sassy bartender minding your business, and then he showed up. America's prince, soon to be king, or in other word's future President of the United States of America. Things kicked off way too fast. You just want to be your normal self. But Steve Rogers needs you. Can you navigate being a self sufficient woman in DC, and the woman on his arm?

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, PIV sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (F receiving), squirting, rough, degradation, dumbification, spitting, stuffing things in reader's mouth, cum play, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.3K

*dividers created by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Steve leafs through a few more papers before laying them down on his desk. He runs his hand over the back of his neck, massaging the ache that he’s had there for over an hour. Things are becoming a reality. He is a candidate for president of the United States of America. Something he’s wanted his entire life. And yet, something still feels off.

Be a good man. That’s what his mother repeated to him everyday growing up. She didn’t care where he landed in life, she just wanted to make sure he was a good man. He thinks for the most part he’s accomplished that. Some, only Gail, would say that he didn’t find someone to share it with. But in all fairness, he’s never truly looked. Someone would come along if they were meant to share a life with him.

But who would want to share a life with him now? Now that he is starting to campaign for president. This isn’t an easy life. It’s nonstop. It would need to be someone willing to give up so much of themselves, and their life, and he’s not ready for that. Nor should it be what he’s worried about right now.

Right now he wants to sign a few more things, and head out. His one night a week that he asks for. This may be the last one, not if he has it his way. He gives up so much of his time, and that’s okay, but he still needs those couple of hours to just drink some beer at the bar. Pretend he isn’t who he is. Deny it if he’s asked.

“Boss?” Steve politely rolls his eyes while looking down before he greets the means well, but still annoying personal assistant Peter. “Um, you told me to tell you when it was six o’clock, sir, Mr. President, Rogers, sir.”

“Steve is just fine,” he reminds him again. Steve scribbles out his signature before stacking the papers in a neat pile, and tucking them into an envelope. “Can you make sure that Natasha gets these?” He asks, standing up to grab his coat.

Peter clears his throat, and then straightens up quickly, “Gail said that you don’t need to go out tonight.”

“Gail needs to mind her business.”

“She’s worried about security, sir,” Peter grabs the coat from Steve, and holds it up. Helping him get in, while Steve is trying to not be frustrated.

“Bucky will be with me,” Peter clears his throat, and shakes his head no. “Bucky will be late?”

“She thinks that Mr. Barnes gets distracted while it’s just the two of you,” there is no one that has ever looked after Steve quite like Bucky.

“Does she propose I take Sam with me?”

“The future vice president at a bar with the president?” Peter cringes. Steve could almost get away with it on his own. He just doesn’t shave before going out. Shaving was for the television. Who knew a beard could make all the difference in one’s appearance.

“Look, kid, Bucky can handle this. Even with a distraction there is no one I trust more than him to keep me safe. Now if you would excuse me I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll have Bucky text you the coordinates for the bar tonight. By the way, he went there earlier this week, and cleared it. You’re welcome,” Steve walks out, leaving Peter’s breathing to increase.

His job isn’t to make sure that Steve listens to everything Gail suggests, no. Peter’s job was to assist Steve. If Gail would let him do his job, he would be quite excellent. Less annoying because all he wanted was to please Steve, but feels an obligation to please Gail. A stickler for doing things by the book.

He walks out of his office, and directly into the parking lot where Bucky is waiting with a car. The one person that is bound and determined to make sure that Steve remains Steve, and not Mr. Rogers or just Mr. President. Bucky keeps Steve humble and grounded. And he’s not above reminding Steve of his tiny and sickly self. It’s what makes the world go round.

“Slade!” Your head turns to the door, where your boss screams a name that is definitely not yours, but fake names in this city are always a good idea. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Smoking,” you smile, bringing the stick to your mouth for a quick pull, and he jerks it out of your hand, “Hey! That was my cigarette!”

“That was a stick,” you know it was only a stick, you weren't a moron. “Why are you out here pretending to smoke a stick?”

“Because Anna comes out here to puff on a stick that causes cancer. Jacob vapes, and who knows what issues that could cause, and they are out here for twenty minutes, without clocking out, so they get paid.”

“It’s an addiction,” he says, his voice flat.

“An addiction that is being rewarded, while me, who doesn’t smoke, is working inside by myself. So I have decided that I am taking a smoke break twice a night, and getting paid for it as well. Scott, you know I’m right. They are costing you money,” you can’t exactly argue with reality. Deny it if he wants to, you are taking it upon yourself to make sure you are fairly treated like the other.

He rolls his eyes, holding the door open for you, “Get back inside.”

Lifting up your watch you shrug, “I’ve still got five minutes left.”

“You’ve seriously been standing out here, sucking on a stick for fifteen minutes?”

You laugh, shaking your head no. That is just silly, “No. I’ve been standing out here holding a stick for fifteen minutes. I only sucked on it when you came out here and disturbed my peace. Do you come out here when everyone else is smoking?”

“They’re actually smoking,” he says flatly.

”I don’t want to get cancer, but I also would like to have a paid break just like everyone else. Would you prefer that I took a beer break?” Scott seems to be playing favorites, when you know that it’s really yourself that is the favorite.

“No,” he walks off, but you decide you’re going to follow him, and annoy him. He’s easy to annoy, and you quite enjoy it. “Slade, quit following me.”

“We’re not finished with this conversation. I’m trying to figure out why I am not allowed to take a smoke break and not spend money, and not get cancer,” perfect logic.

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to waste my money on vape or cigarettes. I don’t want cancer. But I do want to go outside and ‘smoke’,” you wiggle your fingers in quotations to emphasize how you're not actually going to be smoking, in case he forgets. “In this society as a woman it’s hard enough for me to make it ahead of men anyways. I’m just trying to better myself. Trying to do what’s right in a man’s world, while saving my money in order to buy a house.”

“You could make more money dancing,” you retch. He’s suggested this a few times to you, and you just feel in DC if you became a dancer, then you would become the dirty little secret of some politician. One that doesn’t want you to dance for others anymore. Just him. Or her. Hey, it’s a modern world. Corrupt politicians are a dime a dozen, and it doesn’t discriminate against genders.

“I’m just saying,” Scott isn’t creepy. It’s this back and forth game you play. His bar doesn’t actually have dancers.

“I make very good tips here.”

“And once you’ve bought your house what are you going to do?” You hadn’t really thought about that. You had a goal, a big pretty white house with a nice fenced in yard. You’d get a dog. You’re unsure of the breed, but you want to adopt. Maybe a cute little mutt. “So you make the money for a house, and then what? You keep working here?”

“Yes! Because what is life if I can’t annoy you on a regular basis?” Scott rolls his eyes, and points behind the bar. “We’ll continue our conversation at another time, Mr. Lang. Please, make sure you leave any suggestions in the little box in my locker for me!”

“Get back to work!” He screams over his shoulder. You are back at work. And only one man is at the bar, and the suspicious man from earlier this week is just randomly walking around. You narrow your eyes as you watch the odd man before leaning on the bar to the slumped over man.

“You look as if you need Advil,” and a really long nap.

“Do you have any?” He asks, his hand goes to massage his neck, lifting himself up in the process, and you gulp. This man is obnoxiously attractive. His hair is just that odd length of long that you crave, and the blue behind his glasses is gorgeous. And then he gives you a cocky sideways grin.

“No,” he furrows his brows at your weird inflection of your tone, “You need to just lean right on over. I can’t look at you and hold a conversation.”

“Why?” Why? Did he seriously ask you why? Because he’s too fucking attractive.

“Because you’re the stupid kind of attractive that gets me in trouble,” the kind of attractive that makes you fall in love on a first date, and then you let him walk all over you.

“Oh yeah? And how’s that?” Could he not be so — pretty? There’s this adorkable quality to him, and you want to throw your bar towel in his face. Just to hide his looks, and eyes from looking in your direction. Turd.

“Well, you’re the annoying attractive man that sits there, and flirts with me all night.”

“Oh really?” You weren’t even finished! Yep. He’s the kind. He’s already interrupting your thought process.

“The kind that acts all innocent, and then when they see me about to close down the bar, you whisper in my ear, ‘You wanna continue this conversation?’ And the answer is yes, yes, I want to continue this conversation. And of course you’re going to take me to some sleazy hotel room, and there’s no talking involved at all, just horizontal dancing. And you know what the worst part is?”

“I don’t, but I have a feeling no matter what my answer is, you are going to tell me anyway. So why don’t you just go ahead and tell me, so I don’t have to play a guessing game,” oh, he’s good. He is hitting all your morally gray flags.

“The worst part is you’re the type of man that could get me to role play, and quite honestly, I’ve never understood the point. Here we are two adults, and we can be who we say that we are, you know?” Do you even know? Because you are not even Slade.

“What’s wrong with role play?” Oh, cheeky son of a bitch. “And do you actually have Advil?” You do. You reach into your apron, because yes, bastards here can be annoying, and you just need something to ease the pain in your head since you can’t tell them that they’re insufferable and you don’t want to converse with them. Good tips are important. “You’re not trying to poison me are you?”

To prove that you aren’t, you take two pills out for yourself before offering them to him. God, he has nice hands. No! Do not fall for this sorcery. “The problem with role play is the fact you spend a few hours on a scene, instead of just getting to the good part.”

“What’s the good part?” He cocks up an eyebrow at you, and you just know this asshole is enjoying this.

“Sex of course,” he licks his lips slowly, and you watch every movement of every goddamn muscle like you’re studying for a test. He has the best crinkles around his eyes. He’s not some young boy, so you know he knows how to use what he’s got, “What do you want to drink?” You have got to create some space between the two of you and this conversation. It’s derailing, and if you don’t stop he’ll be in the supply closet with you on your knees. This man is making it hard to breathe.

“Just some beer on tap. I’m not that picky.”

“Seriously? I would have pegged you for a Miller guy or something,” that stupid eyebrow does that thing again. “Maybe Budweiser. You seem all American,” he seems like he would look great over you. STAP!!! Focus.

“Please, don’t peg me,” you’re the one smirking at him now. Those powerful men love being pegged. So your bestie, who is just some girl on TikTok and you don’t know her at all, but that’s what she says. Powerful men love to be topped. Being a power bottom somehow makes them feel free to not think, and they can just enjoy.

“He’s got jokes,” you wink at him, starting to fill him a glass up.

“Well, you’re the one that brought up sex,” you lay the pint in front of the man, sliding it over. Watching as he takes a drink.

“How’s my head?” He chokes. Sputtering beer onto the bar, and the odd man that has been here nearly every night this week turns to look at him. “That bad? I’ll have to try better next time.”

“This isn’t at all how I saw my evening going. Do you have a name?”

“Slade. And you?”

He picks up his phone, looking through something, and you fear you might have gone too far, “I would have pegged you for a Meadow.”

“What?” where the hell did that come from?

“Slade means valley. Meadow seems a bit more suitable for you. Ah, but it also means a place of refuge, and that’s what you’ve been for me tonight,” you smile softly. Not your flirty little smile, but a smile of being seen for once. Somehow your awkward humor has given the bar hottie some refuge from whatever has given him a headache, “Steven.”

“We can forgo last names tonight, Steven. What is it that you do? You’re definitely a politician,” the stupid eyebrow again! Curse him and his sexy hot ways. You’d think he was an asshole, if he wasn’t also just so sweet. “Let me guess a congressman?”

“Presidential candidate,” you guffaw. Snort. Seriously, it’s the ugliest laugh that has ever come out of your mouth, and the weird shadow man looks over at the two of you again. He’s probably this man’s bodyguard. Ahh, makes sense. He was canvassing the place. You wonder what he discovered.

“Okay,” you answer, pouring the two of you a shot of vodka. Sliding it over towards him, you raise your hand for a cheer, “To Mr. President.”

“To Meadow,” whatever. You didn’t care what you called him. They’re all fake names anyways. He’s going with a presidential candidate just as much as you’re going to be the Queen of England.

You raise the glass to your lips, drinking it all down, “If you’re the presidential candidate then I’m the Princess of Genovia.”

“That’s a made up country. Wouldn’t you rather a real one?” It’s endearing that he knows that at all.

“Princess of Monaco.”

“Alright, Grace Kelly,” stupid damn crooked smile.

“I thought I was your Meadow?”

“Mine?” Fuck his eyebrow. “When did you become mine?”

“I suppose it was the moment you and your stupid brow did that thing. Could have been when you looked at me. I guess it was that easy,” shit. Shit shit shit. “Not that I’m easy. It was easy. It meaning I’m going to shut my damn mouth, Mr. President. Would you like another glass of cheap beer?” imagine, the president at this dive bar drinking cheap beer!

“No, I don’t like to be fully impaired.”

“Fully impaired for what?” Good grief! “Man, fuck your eyebrows.”

“Sorry, they’ve offended you, my Meadow. That was never the intention. Of course, my intention was to come here for a beer, and then I ran into an awkwardly charming bartender who just so happens to be the Princess of Monaco. Does this mean we’re role playing?” Shit! One conversation, and now he’s role playing with you. You said you didn’t like that.

“Does this mean we’re eventually going to get to the good stuff?” You’ve made a fool of yourself this entire conversation, but for some unknown reason it worked. This man is lying about who he is, just like you are, but you don’t care. The only thing that you care about now is feeling him. He’ll be gone before you wake up. But you have to know what his dick looks like. And just how long he doesn’t last.

“Are you going to try to do better at your head?” Oh he is a cheeky little bastard. So those gray flags that you always ignore are starting to turn into a shade of green. No man is perfect. And this is just the good stuff after the role play.

“I’ve never had anyone complain about my head before,” his tongue moves out of his mouth, and he traces it over his pillow pink lips. Pulling the puffy bottom into his mouth before he bites on it. After the distraction you look at his left hand, “Are you married, Mr. President?”

“I’m not.”

“Are you lying?”

“No,” the ultimate red flag is non-existent. He could be lying, but there isn’t a tan line. there always is. These politicians love to traipse around with their shiny band for everyone to see, but they come in here, and remove it, but the line remains. They can fool the country, but they can’t fool the bartender that they want to fuck.

“So which sleazy hotel are we going to?”

“The Four Seasons,” now you’re the one to choke. Obviously he isn’t running for president because he wouldn’t be caught dead taking a broke bartender into The Four Seasons with him, “Only the best for the Princess of Monaco.”

Your body slams into the wall, while Steven fumbles around with the keycard. His mouth is devouring your own, and you moan at the taste of beer lingering on his tongue. He pulls you in tighter to his body, his leg bent at the knee so you straddle his leg in the most unladylike way, and you grind down on him, “The Princess of Monaco is…”

“If you say slutty, Mr. President, we’re going to have a problem,” his chuckle is low and rumbling as he finally gets the damn door open, and he drags you into the suite with him. His mouth attaches to whatever part of your body he can get to. Nipping and sucking on your neck while you stare in awe looking at the suite.

“Holy fuck,” you surmise, gazing at how beautiful this room is. It’s bigger than your fucking apartment. Maybe he isn’t a politician but a businessman. Maybe he was in the mob! You won’t say a word. Steven is probably a made up name just like Slade. Meadow is nice. You could change your name to Meadow.

“If you think my mouth is good here, just you wait,” he rips at your jeans. Pulling them apart, and you look at him confused. Did he just speak? Wait, the good stuff is supposed to be happening. But this view!

“What?” He stopped for some reason.

“What?” He stands up straight, realizing your needy little body has stopped humping air, and he wonders if things have changed instantly. “What is happening?”

“I was looking at the suite. You can continue to undress me. I can let you fuck me from behind while I look at this view. Holy hell!”

Stepping away from him, you go over to the window, staring out at the city. It’s amazing. Beautiful in a weird way. “Are you not into — did I read everything wrong here?”

“Oh, no. I’m totally down to fuck. I have this huge, giant need to know what your dick looks, feels, and tastes like. But I’m just seriously caught up in this room. Holy shit, how much did this cost?” Too much. Steven is in the mob. His name is probably Captain Shawshank!

“Do you realize you’ve said holy in front of every curse word known to man?” Lies.

“Holy damn. Now, I believe that’s all the words,” you practically skip out of the living area, and walk into one of the rooms, whistling. “There’s more than one room in here. After you fuck me are you going to make me go into another room to sleep, so you can be in here alone? Are you going to call me a car, and I have to walk out the back door? Are,” his thick finger presses up against your mouth, and he shushes you like you're a damn child.

“None of the above. I’m going to take your pants off, and throw you on the bed. Then I’m going to crawl in between your legs, and suck on that pretty little clit that is swollen and in need of attention. Then I’m going to fuck you like a dirty little slut. You know longer will be the Princess of Monaco, but the President’s whore,” green flag. Green flags all around! You would very much like to be ‘the president’s whore’. Clearly, you’re into role play after all.

“I like that,” you sigh.

He presses his mouth against yours. Biting on your lower lip, “You like that?” The timbre of his voice rattles you to your core, and arousal floods your nether region, and you begin to hump the air again. His smile is full of sin, and you wish his leg was in between your thighs again.

“Uh huh,” you whimper. Pulling off your lip he picks you up, and tosses you onto the bed. He takes a few steps towards you, and you shake your head, “You told me you were going to crawl in between my legs, that is very much walking.”

Steve growls but does get down on his knees, and he crawls to the bed. Gripping to your foot, he yanks you down to the edge of the bed, and rips apart your legs. Kissing in between your thighs before he begins to pull your pants off. Inhaling so deeply when your mound is uncovered by denim, “Did you just smell me? What do I smell like?”

“Heaven,” he answers coolly. He tosses your pants to the side before he returns to pull your panties down.

“You do have a condom, right? I actually never have sex with random strangers, especially not ones that claim that they’re a presidential candidate. You know, you really do sound insane when you say that,” he chuckles, and you feel it right on your sex. He’s controlling you with his voice alone. He hooks his fingers around the elastic of your panties, and starts to pull.

It’s both too fast, and not fast enough, “You didn’t answer about the condom part. I am on birth control, but Mr. President, you could have a disease that I can’t wash off,” he stops the descent of your panties, leaving you spread and bear, and it causes you to whine in protest. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, and he tosses you a condom. Then another. And another. And another.

“Stop!” You scream sitting up, and looking into his wallet. “How many are there?”

“There should only be five, but I don’t like odd numbers so there’s six,” that fucking eyebrow. He knows. You told him what that damn thing does to you, and now he’s using it against you.

“Ahh!” You shove your hand over his brows, and try to breathe, “Are they expired? Why do you have six?”

“Because I don’t like odd numbers,” he repeats, smiling, and even though you can’t see it, you know he’s moving that stupid sexy brow. How are eyebrows sexy again?

“No, I mean, did you intend to sleep with six random strangers tonight? Or…?” Please say no!!

“Princess, I don’t sleep around because it usually comes back to bite me in the ass,” sure sure because ‘he’s a presidential candidate’. “But if I ever decide to fuck someone as you so colorfully say, I don’t want one time typically. I want it all night. So why don’t you check the expiration dates, while I have a snack,” he sinks lower on the floor, before he’s face to face with your pussy.

He rips your panties off, “I’ll have more delivered here,” he says before licking a swipe up your slit, and he moans. A moan so deep and guttural that your eyes roll in the back of your head, and you drop back on to the bed, and grab one of the condoms.

Steve buries himself in your drenched folds. His beard tickles your thighs and puss in the best possible way. Vision? Who needs it? You most certainly did, until whatever the fuck he’s doing with his tongue happened. It flicks over your overly sensitive nub while both his hands pull you apart, “What a pretty little pussy this is.”

Oh, this man is about to dirty talk you into an orgasm. The art of dirty talk is lost on most men. They don’t understand the importance of being vocal. Moan at the tastes and pleasures that we women give you. Tell us what you’re going to do with us. We’re not made of glass, and a lot of the time, women want you to be rough as fuck.

He pushes two fingers inside your wet heated channel, and moans again, “What’s the matter, princess? You already going dumb on just my fingers?” No, you’re not. You’re enjoying the feeling. “Go on, what’s the expiration date, baby?” His lips wrap around your clit, and he gives the button a hard suck, causing you to see stars. Mewling out his name, and your legs start to tighten around him.

He uses the width of his body to keep you good and spread, and tsks you, “I’ve just got started. But I need you to be a good girl, and read me what the expiration date on the condom is. Just to make sure it’s allowed for me to fuck you. If they’re expired, then I guess there’s going to be no fucking, or I’ll have to call someone to bring me a box of condoms, and I really don’t want to do that.”

You don’t want that either. No no. You want at least six times tonight. He can call for another box later in the night. Wait, who the fuck is bringing him condoms? What a weird thing to call for. Can you have condoms DoorDashed?

He pumps his fingers into you, and you attempt to read the back of this packet. Why the hell is it shiny? And where is the damn expiration date? You know that they have them. “Your pussy is so fucking greedy. You think she can handle a third finger?” No, but you’d like to try.

“I think she can. Just gotta ease number three in,” pleasure blinds you, and again, you can’t read anything on the back of this stupid tiny foil packet. Thank goodness you’re not allergic to latex because you can’t hold off a single second of actually seeing how his cock feels inside of you. “Go on. I know you can do it,” condescending sexy as fuck asshole.

“Steven, I can’t,” he lets his teeth drag over your clit, and you sob out his name again. “Steven!”

“That’s Mr. President to you, princess. Now, try again. Read the expiration, and I’ll give this greedy little pussy what she really wants, my throbbing fat cock,” yes. Yes, that is exactly what your pussy wants. You wish he’d give it to her right now. When the hell did you start referring to your puss as a she? The power of Steven, Mr. President.

“Mr. President, I can’t.”

“Then I’m going to stop,” you sit up on your elbows to stare at his beard soaked in your essence, and he leans back on his calves. Leaning away from her! Your pussy. “Read the expiration date first. And then I’ll let you come on my fingers. And after that, if the condoms aren’t expired, I’ll fuck you like the needy little slut that you are.”

“Oh my god!” The sound of your voice is like a bratty child. You want him so bad. So much. That’s another reason that you can’t even concentrate. You’re horny, and you need to come. “Mr. President, I wanna come!”

“Expiration date, sweetheart.”

You growl in protest but read over this tiny stupid fucking print. Who the hell did this? Who designed this to look like this? Stupid people that weren’t in the middle of getting their back broken by a lying fucking god. If he was telling the truth, you’d be fucking a presidential candidate. Haha, wouldn’t your parents be so proud that you took someone like him home? Well, he paid for the damn room. At least he has money.

“Ahh! Ooh ooh! They don’t expire for another three months! Make me come.”

“As you wish,” he says before he is tongue fucking you into oblivion. You thought his fingers felt nice. This is a different feeling. This is primal. My god, he’s so dirty, and you almost hope he is a presidential candidate, just so you will know how a president fucks. His tongue is replaced by three fingers, and he sucks and finger fucks you roughly.

Slamming those fingers into your body like it’s what he was made to do. Curling his digits and hitting a spot in your body that only you have only discovered. No man has ever found this hidden gem. The dam to pleasure. It only means one thing, and you try to tighten your legs together. Shivering at the build up that he’s creating.

“You dirty little slut. You know what I’m trying to do, don’t you?” he’s trying to soak himself, and you for that matter.

“Mr. President!” Your voice is so uneven. He’s gotta stop hitting that spot or else…

“Go on, darling. Soak me. Squirt all over me. Come on. Give it to me. Give me what I want. Yes! Fucking yes!” He yells out a hoop of triumph as you squirt arousal all over his chest. “Fucking dirty girl,” he pushes his face back into your wetness, and laves up your juices. Giving you the time that you need to come down from that fucking high.

Before you even realize what is happening, he’s pulling off his shirt, and he looks better with it off. A few hidden tattoos that make you drool. If he’s telling the truth, he’s going to be the hottest fucking president ever. And he has hidden tattoos? Drool. God help your body. He pulls off his pants, and of course he’s a boxer briefs man. You want to cry happy tears at the size of his bulge. You’re a glutton for punishment, and you want him to ruin your cunt. Judging from the impossible starin of his underwear, he’s going to.

Leaning over your body, he starts chuckling as he removes your shirt. “Are your legs like jello, princess?” Yes. He just made your body have a damn waterfall, and your brain is trying to catch up, and he has the arrogance to ask that? Yes. You are jello. “I like seeing you pliable like this. Just means I’m going to get to fuck you the way I want to.”

Whoever is out there to ask for forgiveness, you promise to after he treats you like his own personal whore. Removing your bra, he smirks, “Yeah,” he slaps at your tits, moaning when you yip at the slight pain. “Perfection. I’m about to make you my little sex doll. What do you think about that?”

“Yes, please!” You sound like an idiot, and you don’t care. “Mr. President. I want to see your cock, please.”

“Oh, and she’s got manners, too. Does she just want me to forgo niceties, and just fuck you like the needy little slut you are?”

“Oh god, yes,” he reaches on the bed to retrieve one of the six condoms, and then starts to roll down his underwear. You try to be polite, and look him in the eyes, but there’s a glorious cock right there, that you have to see. He peels them down further, and his cock springs to life. Perfect. Pretty spongy mushroom tip with beads of precum oozing out. A beautiful vein traced on the underside of his cock, and right up his happy trail.

You want to bite it. Trace that vein with your tongue. You’re such a loser simp for this beautiful man, and you don’t care. You’ll shout it to the world that you are his sex toy if he wants you to. You didn’t care as long as he puts that pretty cock inside of you.

Steven brings the packet to his mouth, and his teeth clamp on a corner before he peels it off. Spitting the corner off with a pffft. Bits of his spittle float into the air, and you wish he’d just spit on you. In you. Make you swallow it, you didn’t care. He curls his finger, wiggling it, and beckoning you closer. You clamber up on your knees, both of you naked and ready to be owned and claimed by the other.

“If you want me, put it on me,” you look at him through your lashes before you take the packet, and pull the rubber out. You grip his velvet steel rod in your hand before placing the latex on the tip, and roll it down his length. Counting inches as you go along.

“Nine. Inches that is, and you’ll take every inch,” his voice is so gruff, and you can’t wait to try and fit his heavy, hot, pulsing cock inside of you.

“I do love a challenge.”

“Then lay back. Because I’m not stopping until every inch is inside of you,” every glorious nine inches of him. Yep. You’re a goner. Done. Finished. Whatever it is that he has, you’re taking. You settle yourself back on the bed, and Steven knees himself to his perfect spot, and uses his cock to slap over your clit.

He wiggles his tip through your slick. Always ending at your clit, and he adds a bit more pressure. Running the tip through your warmth, and pushes through your entrance, and he pulls back up. Repeating the process over and over again, until you’re weak, and wondering when you actually get to feel him.

Steven sinks into you past the tip. Watching you to make sure you’re still okay with where things are going, and adds another inch. You hiss at the wide stretch. He’s not just long, he is so wide. His fullness pushes you open in the most lewd and salacious way. This is such a vulgar moment, and yet it still feels so right. It feels like heaven.

Adding another inch, you grab onto his forearms, nodding for him to continue. Another inch. And another. Not stopping until the tip whispers against your cervix, and he’s fully sheathed in your warmth. “Do you want me to treat you like a whore, or like I love you,” that’s the thing about you and him, you both know this isn’t love. It’s two adults giving each other pleasure. And you haven’t had that in so long.

“I’m your whore, Mr. President, use me,” that damn brow cocks up, and he gives you a crooked smile. A warning because he isn’t going to take it easy on you. Wrapping his hand around your neck, he lifts you up and crashes his mouth into yours in sync with how he thrusts his hips into you. He’s so deep that you go cross eyed. He’s stealing your breath away with his mouth, and the harshness of the drive of his hips.

Fucking you in two. You feel this man up to your eyeballs, “Meadow, we’re going to have a long night if you’re already going dumb. Are you giving me permission to…”

“Yes!” You shout without any hesitation. “Yes, just fuck me. Whenever, however you want. Just always wear a condom,” he nods his head once, and both his hands grip onto the headboard. And he RAILS into you. You understand the need for multiple beds now because you’re embarrassingly leaving a mess all over this one. Your arousal pools underneath you, and the squelching sounds of your cunt echo in the room.

What the fuck is he doing to your body, and how? How is he able to control your body the way he is? Make you feel floaty and boneless, while also shocking you with aching pleasure. He is glorious, and you’re going to have him all night. Who knows, maybe he can continue to come into the bar and fuck your brains out.

“You’re body is so fucking reactive,” he grunts as he drills into your body. How is this man single? There is a bad trait in there somewhere. He lies about what it is he does of course. “Hey,” he snaps his fingers at your face, “Stay with me.”

Rude. But true. His face makes this so much better. You can look at him without imagining that you have Henry Cavill fucking you. This view is very nice indeed. “Don��t stop fucking me!”

“Shh,” he coos down at you. “I know you’re going all limp and everything, but you don’t have to shout at me,” you didn’t shout, “You very much did shout. If you can’t behave I’ll have to fill your mouth with something,” he is a devil, and you scream his name again. “Suit yourself.”

“No! Come back!” Sex should always feel so good that you beg them not to leave you. “Oh,” he keeps fisting his cock, while he searches for something on the floor. “Your ass is quite nice.”

“Yours isn’t bad either. Aha!” Bending over, he retrieves something from the floor, and then looks at you with a smile. What is he going to do with that? “My my, you were soaked at the bar. Were you leaking out on your thighs?”

“Yes,” there’s no point in denying that Steven has made you wetter than anyone ever has before. He knows it, too.

“Good girl,” you want to melt. You want to die right here. He can’t be saying words like that and think that your body won’t respond. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue,” you respond quickly, “Such a good girl.”

He inches closer to you. His mouth hovering right over yours, and he licks up your tongue. You shiver. Your body pushes you closer to him because you want more, and he spits on your tongue, “Swallow,” you listen so well, “Very good girl. Now, get on your knees. This next part is going to go fast because your tight little pussy is making it really hard for me not to bust a nut just looking at you spread, and gaping because of me.”

“I’m — what?” You look down at your body, gasping. “What…?”

“On. Your. Knees. Or I make you watch myself come in my hand,” oh, hell no. You get onto your knees, and lean forward. Arching your back, and showing him exactly what he gets to have for the rest of the night. Well, five condoms worth. “Thatta girl,” swoon. Asshole. Asshole! He reaches around your body, shoving your panties into your mouth, and you cry, arching your back even more. He’s filthy.

Steven lines himself up to your entrance, grabbing onto your hips with so much force that you know you’ll have his fingerprints etched into your skin for a couple of days. With one hitch of his pelvis, he slams into you balls deep, “Mmm!” You don’t care, your mouth is stuffed, you’re going to be as loud as you possibly can. He fills you so well. The fullness inside of you is the most pleasant exhilaration you have ever experienced.

But the way he grunts and moans with each harsh slide into you. His balls slapping up against your clit — this is perfection. He spits down to your hole, and you just know he’s about to turn even more gray flags green, and he pushes his thumb into your puckered ass, and if you could form words, they would be thanking him.

“You’re such a fucking dirty girl. You like this? You like how I fuck you like a dirty little slut?” Yep. You like it a lot, but you can’t tell him that. Not while you’re tasting your own honey. Not while you are coating his thick cock with your cream. Not while he is filling every hole in some weird way. Nope. You can’t think. Your synapses are sparking up with so much delight. A numbing pleasure that makes no sense other than your body is lifted into another world with the god of pleasure and debauchery.

“Your pussy has been pulsing around me for five minutes, did you know that?” Yeah. You are feeling that. You even feel the vein on his cock throbbing in your tight channel. “Fuck yeah. Yes! I’m almost there. You’re coming with me,” one of his hands dips between your legs, and he rubs over your clit with so much ferocity that your legs tremble. Falling down onto the bed, and he just keeps fucking you into a black hole.

Shuddering and shaking. Muffled screams that make no sense. And his hips snap into you, darkening your backside with heat. He’s so powerful. “I’m. Fuuuuuuck! Coming,” warmth balloons into the latex, and he slows his rhythm. Easing into a slow roll of his body, until he slides out of you. Flipping you onto your back, and you are surrounded in so much wetness.

He pulls the panties out of your mouth, tossing them back onto the floor. His eyes coast over your overstimulated body, still tweaking as he pulls the condom off himself. Grabbing the tip, Steven dangles it over your mouth letting his spend drip onto your mouth where you hungrily lick it up. He could fall in love with you at this moment.

You’re the best stress reliever he’s ever had. “You look so pretty coated in me.”

“Next time, why don’t you let me feel you explode on me? I could paint myself with your cum.”

“You’re the best kind of disgusting,” he smiles, and hops off the bed, and pulls you up to him. “Let’s get you showered. Then we’ll order some room service, and you need to hydrate. You made a mess of that bed.”

“Sorry,” you cringe. As you look over the mess of the bed. It’s soaked. Ruined. You feel sorry for whoever has to clean this mess.

“Do not apologize because I wasn’t issuing a complaint. Are you tired? It is late. We’ll figure it out in the shower,” is this man really offering to shower with you? How is that both sweet and hot. “Don’t get me hard in the shower, and I know that will be difficult because I know what you feel like. Not to mention, you looking like that, and because of me, it’s really working for you,” you know you’re wrecked. Your eyelids at half mast with the high that is coursing through your body.

“Who is the talkative one now, Steven.”

“You can either call me Steve, or Mr. President, Meadow,” you see the game that the two of you are playing. And either it’s just going to be good for tonight, or you could see yourself falling for this man, despite his need to lie about his job. It’s fine. You’re fine. As long as he fucks you like that again. You can pretend he’s the future president.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @distractingbeth @buckybarnesisdaddy @musingsfromthemitten

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers

[that1geek06]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

[actually-mentally-ill]

finding out making up whole detailed scenarios with fictional characters in your head is a “sign of mental illness”

[theshamelesssimp]

Me when I get to the part of a fanfic that has me giggling and kicking my feet

[that1nerd-20]

When a fanfic writer puts a nickname you think Is icky in their smut fic

[ruerecs]

fanfic writers NEVER contemplate or apologise for your fic being over 3-5k words long, we readers LOVE longer fics!! anyways have a good day/night 🙂‍↕️

[witchywithwhiskey]

the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were. 

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved. 

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him. 

The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.

When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside. 

On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.

Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart. 

As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.

That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.

That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.

But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.

That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.

He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door. 

Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume. 

So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent. 

Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.

Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit. 

But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. 

Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help. 

But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.

“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.

One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up. 

That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.

Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you. 

Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup. 

He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come. 

He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.

A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged. 

Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.

Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing. 

The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him. 

But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.

Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.

Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.

Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat. 

His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.

When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.

You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.

A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve. 

The alpha next door was just so…sweet. 

It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor. 

And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.

Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?

It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet. 

It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together. 

You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard. 

Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous. 

Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun. 

You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct  sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.

It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…

Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.

Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body. 

Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.

The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically. 

You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.

The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…

You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve. 

“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due. 

You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.

“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you. 

The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it. 

“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock. 

You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.

It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please��please, breed me, Steve!” 

So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more. 

It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun. 

Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway. 

Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.

Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve. 

“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength. 

Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together. 

In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.

“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes. 

Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.

Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.

Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.

He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands. 

Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges. 

Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.

Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.

You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.

At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…

God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you. 

Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.

That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his. 

You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy. 

It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped. 

“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you. 

As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.

By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound. 

But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.

“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole. 

The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body. 

Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.

“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.

He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.

With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy. 

Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.

“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?” 

As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot. 

Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach. 

“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.

“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in. 

Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?” 

Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.

“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.” 

Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot. 

You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.

You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it. 

Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door. 

The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible. 

Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment. 

Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.

“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words. 

You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.

“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed. 

“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”

You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt. 

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!” 

“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.” 

“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast. 

Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.

As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.

For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver. 

Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet. 

But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.

You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips. 

“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer. 

Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.

“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot. 

It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.

“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.

When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr. 

“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him. 

“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness. 

You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him. 

“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.

The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.

Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.” 

You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.” 

Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate. 

But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.

[loveletterlore]

a sweater affair ♡ b.b. x reader

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky and reader are in a secret relationship, but can't stop wearing each others clothes...

warnings: details of injury and wound getting stitched up, keeping secrets, nothing too serious, some kisses

word count: 3.3k

author's note: fluffy Bucky is my favourite thing in the world, I just want him to cuddle me until I fall asleep. also, this is definitely not the most intellectual fic ever, it's just some toothrotting, daily life fluff so enjoy (---- indicates time skip, ////// indicates new day)

Your leg bounced up and down, anxiety manifesting in your body in familiar ways. You were awaiting the return of the mission crew, having heard that the mission had been extra brutal. As one of the doctors in the Avengers compound, it was your role to assess the agent's conditions, organising different levels of care for those who needed it.

Eyes focused on the horizon, you spotted the quinjet approaching as a buzz sounded over your walkie-talkie.

“We’re about 60 seconds out from base, got a couple here who need urgent med attention.”

“Ready and waiting,” you responded, trying to hide the wobble in your voice.

The quinjet came in to land, gusts of air messing your hair and causing you to squint your eyes. The door opened, agents limping out towards you. You directed the first set inside, nurses taking notes as they went. 

You turned towards the quinjet, your walk progressing into a jog due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your feet moved up the ramp, narrowly dodging the pilot as they left the craft. Once inside, you turned to the right, scanning the cockpit to no avail. A wave of nerves washed over you and your heart dropped as you turned on your heel.

Looking up, your eyes met his and relief washed over you, your stomach turning with nausea. He was okay, thank god. His eyes crinkled slightly, the height of expression for this man. As the rest of the team exited the quinjet, he paused slightly in front of you.

“Doc,” his voice was low, barely speaking above a whisper.

“Bucky,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as his familiar scent hit your nostrils. 

The temptation to reach out and take his hand in yours was strong. You ran your eyes over his body, trying to identify any injuries on his body. 

“I’m fine,” Bucky could sense the anxiety coursing through your veins. “Just a bit bruised. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you give me a full check up later.”

You glanced up at his face, which he had leaned closer to you, “Give me an hour to check these guys out.”

A small nod was his response as he straightened, stretching his neck and leaving the quinjet.

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

You pushed open the door to your room, the familiar scent immediately wafting into your face. You knew he was there without even needing to see him, this had become routine over these past weeks. Steam snuck out of the bathroom through the cracks around the door and you could smell his body wash. Dropping your jacket on a chair, you began to tidy up around the room.

Pulling open the drawer, you placed the stray socks you had gathered from around the room and paused, reaching for one of Bucky’s sweaters. You lifted it to your face, inhaling the scent before pulling it on over your shirt. 

The bathroom door opened, revealing Bucky with a towel draped around his waist, still dripping from the shower. He rubbed at his hair with a smaller towel, a smirk growing on his face as he saw you, dressed in his clothes. Leaning against the doorframe, he observed the image for a few moments, considering how he had gotten to this point in his life.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned to face him, a gentle smile on your lips, “Hey, how ya holdin’ up?”

“All good, doll,” his voice was music to your ears, like your favourite song on repeat. “Although I could do with some help with this…”

Turning, he presented a large gash in his side, the wound raw and bloody.

“James, for goodness sake-” you rolled your eyes, brushing past him into the bathroom to grab your med kit. “Go sit down.”

He chuckled at your response, having known exactly what you would say. Grimacing at the movement, he sat down and leaned in a way that would allow you access to his injury. You kneeled on the floor next to him, pulling gloves on and lightly pressing at the wound, watching for any signs of pain - thanks to the serum, he seemed pretty unphased by the whole situation.

Bucky watched each movement you made as you fixed him up, studying your face as though he was trying to memorise your features. A blush crept through your skin, the sight making you even more beautiful to the man with you. His hand brushed your cheek, drawing your eyes up to meet his gaze.

“Hi,” he mumbled, eyes half closed. In all the time you had known Bucky, he had never been this at ease, this comfortable, this calm. The effect was particularly evident when it was just the two of you, alone and safe behind closed doors. You doubted anyone would believe you if you told them that James Buchanan Barnes, the tortured ex-assassin with a brutal backstory, had fallen asleep with his head in your lap, you stroking slow, gentle circles on his scalp. It was actually his favourite position, he had often told you, usually as he balanced the line between asleep and awake.

And here you were, patching him up in your room as his thumb stroked along your bottom lip.

“Hi,” you whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. “Nearly done.”

He let his head fall back, strangely enjoying the gentle touches of you stitching him up. As you wiped the wound, applying a small dressing, you pressed a kiss to his side and stood up. You threw the med kit onto the other side of the bed as Bucky’s hands lifted to rest on your hips, pulling you between his spread legs. His head dropped to rest on your chest as your arms circled him, a comfortable quiet settling over the room.

“Any other secret injuries?” you kept your voice low, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Well, there is this one, maybe you can kiss it better?” he looked up at you with those blue eyes, glinting in the light.

You let out a sigh, playing up to the trick you knew he was about to pull, “Oh dear, where is it?”

“Right here,” he pointed to his forehead, pouting his bottom lip out.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering a moment, enjoying the closeness.

“Oh, and here,” his finger moved to his cheek.

Obliging, you shifted to nuzzle into his cheek, dotting a kiss on his cheekbone.

“And one last one,” he pointed to his lips, the bottom one still jutting out in a mock-pout.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you placed a finger under his chin, tilting it upwards. Leaning forward slowly, you pressed your lips against his, a sigh of relief leaving your body. His hand returned to your hip, squeezing comfortingly. Your hands rested on his shoulders, his build keeping you steady on your feet. 

After a moment you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“How was it?” you asked, your eyes half-closed. 

Bucky knew you were talking about the mission. He leaned back in the bed, pulling your hips with him so that you were laying across him. Reaching an arm behind you, he curled it to allow his fingers to play in your hair while the other hand rested on your thigh.

“‘S fine, nothing too special,” he murmured, eyes closed from the comfort of your presence. “You should have seen the other guys.”

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the usual smell of him. The two of you lay there, pleasantly cozy in each other's company, even without words. Feeling yourself begin to drift, you snuck your hand up to cup his face, pulling his lips to yours for another gentle kiss.

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

Beep… beep… beep…

Electric buzzing pulled you from the warm, serene clouds of sleep. Rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, your vision cleared and revealed the face centimeters from yours. A sleepy smile grew on your face at the sight, warmth flooding your body. Gently unravelling your limbs from his, you cringed as he shifted in his sleep, evidently missing your presence. 

Sneaking from the room, you closed the door quietly behind you, finally letting out a breath.

“Hey Doc!” Steve appeared from around the corner, clapping you on the shoulder. You jumped at the volume, your senses still awakening after your impromptu nap. 

“Cap, hi,” your voice was groggy. You cleared your throat before looking back up at him. “Did you get beeped as well?”

“Yeah, can I walk you there?” Steve’s eyes glanced down at your sweater, recognition flashing across his face.

Crap. Bucky’s sweater. 

You forced your eyes to stay on his face, refusing to give him any sign of the truth. “Sure, we should probably hurry up!”

You turned on your heels, starting towards the medical bay with Steve hot on your heels. Blood rushed to your head as you realized your current situation - if Steve had made the connection, there was no doubt others would too.

Barrelling into the med bay, you sprung into action, trying desperately to ignore the lingering glances you felt all over your skin.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Tony’s parties had always been extravagant, and this one was evidently no different. Balloons and lights turned the room fluorescent, a rainbow of colours reflecting on the dance floor in the middle of the room. For as much drama as these events caused, it was always nice for the whole team to get together and have some fun, Avengers and medical staff included.

The past few days, the only discussion in the medical bay had been centered around outfits, what was everyone going to wear? Hidden in the back of your wardrobe, you had purchased an outfit months ago, knowing that one of these parties would inevitably be organised before long.  

The surprise of the day had occurred when you exited the bathroom; hair done, sprayed with your favorite scent and accessories perfectly matched to your outfit. You were thoroughly feeling  yourself, the reality of this look living up to the concept you had created in your head. What you hadn’t expected, however, was to see Bucky, fixing his cufflinks in the vanity mirror before adjusting his tie - the colour of which matched your outfit, exactly.

You watched his reflection in the mirror, leaning back against the wall while admiring the man before you. He caught your eyes in the mirror, a smirk on his face as he witnessed the reaction to his master plan. 

“You like it?” he spoke clearly as he picked up the hairbrush from the vanity, running it through his locks and settling them into place. 

You sighed into your words, “A perfect match. Aren’t you worried someone will realise?”

“Nah, Tony’ll get everyone drunk enough they won’t even be able to see straight,” Bucky chuckled, using your scrunchie to tie back part of his hair as he brushed through a knot.

“Apart from Steve,” you raised your eyebrows, alluding to your previous interaction with the blonde super soldier.

“Steve’s fine, even if he thought something he’d never say it to anyone,” Bucky smiled at you, sliding the scrunchie back on his wrist as he turned, approaching you. His hands rested on your hips as he looked over your figure. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thanks Jamie,” you pressed your lips to his, reaching up to stroke his neatly trimmed beard. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“You know, we just look too good together. If people knew, they would just be so jealous they would implode,” Bucky joked, a familiar, cheeky grin returning to his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling your eyes, you pressed a final kiss to his lips before turning for the door. “I’ll see you up there. Don’t stare at me too hard.”

You gave him a quick wink before opening the door, making sure to see the look on his face before leaving - it was a sight to remember.

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

Steve had approached you as you entered the party, clapping his hand on your shoulder in a friendly manner.

“Hey, Doc! You scrub up nicely,” he smiled down at you, dressed in his finest suit. 

“Looking good, Cap,” you pulled him into a quick hug. “How have you been? I feel like it’s been a minute since we caught up.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Steve spoke, your previous interaction hanging in the air between you. “I’m good, just all these missions at the moment.”

It felt like a test, as though he wanted to see if Bucky had mentioned anything about these missions, to see if you and Bucky truly were in eachothers pockets as he predicted.

“There’s been some brutal injuries coming in, I feel like I’ve set more bones in the past week than the entirety of last year,” a nervous laugh left your body, feeling forced. Steve laughed in return, his eyes still searching yours.

A murmur settled over the crowd as heads turned towards the door. Curious, you craned your neck in an attempt to see what everyone was looking at. Of course it was him.

Bucky strolled in, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the room, eyes settling on you and Steve. 

In that moment, there were three things you knew. You knew, without even looking, that Steve’s eyes were on you, trying to gauge your reaction to Bucky’s presence. You also knew that on Bucky’s raised arm, your scrunchie still sat, decorating his wrist. The final thing that you knew, your face was flushed pink as you realised the pair of you had messed up, again. 

Steve definitely knew something was happening.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The light from your laptop was starting to give you a headache, blue light and all that. Running a hand over your face, you squeezed your eyes closed before opening them again and looking at the ceiling. The night shift was your least favorite of the shift patterns to work; not necessarily because of the timings, more because you hated leaving Bucky to sleep alone. The nightmares always seemed more frequent during these weeks. 

A quick stretch of your limbs, punctuated by your bones popping and cracking, waking your body up from its lazy position, slumped over in your chair. There wasn’t too much to do on these night shifts, no-one was training at this time and missions had been slow recently. Your job was just to monitor the few agents on the ward and be there in case of emergency.

You stood, taking the opportunity to release the pressure in your back with a quick turn. Your shirt rode up, wafting Bucky’s familiar scent back into your face. You had left his room, not realising you were still wearing his red henley shirt. It was oversized on you, making it super comfortable and ideal for this shift. 

“Doctor, Captain Rogers is on his way to the med bay with a request,” FRIDAY spoke over the speaker, the sudden noise a shock to your system.

Rubbing your eyes, you responded, “Okay, do you know the request?”

“He didn’t say, my apologies,” FRIDAY returned.

You began to pace the room, trying to consider what Steve might be wanting from you. Steve was the type of person who made it his business to know every single person in the compound. It’s my role as the Captain, he would say, the ship doesn’t sail without the sailors. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come to the med bay, visiting the medical staff on his rounds. 

At the sound of the door you turned, eyes landing on the built frame of the man before you. Steve had never intimidated you, despite his intense physique and serious face, until recently, the prospect of him uncovering your secret setting you on edge. You plastered a smile on your face, trying to avoid him sensing something was off with you. 

“Hey, Cap. How’s it going?” you spoke calmly, strolling over to meet him.

“Hi, uh- Are you free to talk?” Steve reached up, scratching the back of his neck.

A wave of anxiety swept over you as he spoke and you were sure the blood drained from your face, “Yeah, of course.”

Steve moved to sit at one of the tables, you sliding in across from him.

“I’ve been noticing some things and I just need to ask… are you and Bucky…?” he trailed off, seeming mildly uncomfortable with asking the question.

You sighed, eyes dropping to the floor, “Yes, Steve. We didn’t want to tell anyone yet, it’s still fairly new and we don’t really know how it’s going to work.”

Steve blew out a breath, seeming instantly lighter, “Thank God.”

“Huh?”

Surprise bloomed in your chest at his response. You were sure that he would be upset, maybe even betrayed at the secret being kept from him. Anger wouldn’t have surprised you, you were well aware of Steve’s intent on helping Bucky heal from his past before getting into anything overwhelming or new. Relief hadn’t been anywhere on your list of expected reactions.

“I was worried about him, something seemed different. It’s strange; he was more secretive and withdrawn, but there was a part of him that seemed better, healed maybe. It wasn’t until I saw you wearing his shirt, and then at Tony’s party, that it started to click. He’s in love,” Steve smiled, looking across the table at you.

“Oh, I- it’s still new, we haven’t said anything like that,” you stuttered.

Steve smiled, knowingly, “Doc, he’s been my best friend for nearly a century. I can tell when he’s in love.”

Your face flushed scarlet, your stomach full of butterflies at the revelation. Your watch beeped, alerting you to the end of your shift.

“Steve, I have to go,” your eyes met his and he instantly understood the message. Giving you a quick salute and a smile, he stood and turned to leave the room.

You sprinted back to your room, counting down the steps as you neared him. You creaked the door open, inch by inch, peering in to see if Bucky was asleep. As you had expected, he was lying atop the covers, hands behind his head and eyes focused on the ceiling. He turned to look at you as you entered.

“Mornin’ doll, how was-”

You ran over, cutting off his speech as you kicked your leg over, straddling his hips. You cupped his face in your hands, leaning down to press your lips to his. You felt his surprised response as he short circuited, taking a second to kick into gear and kiss you back. His hands roamed up your legs, rising to rest on your waist as he lifted his head, returning the kiss with passion.

Your lips danced as tongues and teeth clashed, the kiss becoming heated quickly. You forced yourself away from him, lips swollen and pink from the passion.

“Woah, good night?” Bucky was breathless, a rare sight for the self-proclaimed “ladies man”. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, I am totally, irreversibly, completely in love with you.”

Your heart pounded, the seconds stretching into minutes, into hours, into days. You watched as Bucky’s expression changed; surprise, confusion, understanding, happiness, excitement, laughter. Then, you watched his eyes as they began to water.

“Darlin’, I am fully, devotedly, inconceivably in love with you,” he pulled you back to his lips, confirming the statement with his mouth. 

Faces met, hands grabbed, hair pulled, hips rolled, teeth nibbled, breaths moaned. It was truly a night to remember.

masterlist for more of my work <3

ko-fi if you’d like a commission or to support the page <3

[chxrryhansen]

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

nomad steve is a big fat fuckin MUNCH. idc idc idc. nobody can change my mind. that man eats pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner. he is STARVED.

you wake up? his head is in between your thighs. your working? he wants you to sit on his face while you do it. your doing the dishes? best believe that man is on his knees tongue deep inside your pussy desperate to have you cream all over his face. making comments like

“you just looked so good baby i couldn’t help it, had to get a taste of you”

“you like it when daddy sucks on your clit while you finish your chores? yeah? fuckin dirty girl”

“fuck honey, cum in daddy’s mouth, come on give it to me”

“pussy tastes like fuckin heaven”

one thing he does not stand for is hovering. when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit on it. he’ll be grabbing your hips, pulling you down onto his face, his rough beard rubbing against your thighs while his tongue explores your dripping heat and you know damn well he eats it in the morning so he can smell your pussy on his facial hair during the day, his tongue darting out to lick over his moustache, savouring the taste of your juices.

your spread missionary as he suckles and nibbles on your clit, his fingers fucking into you at a desperate pace, missing the taste of your cream even though he’s already had you twice today, his mouth opening wide as you writhe and squirt on his tongue, watching him as he moans and grunts, his hips rocking into the mattress beneath him as he fills his boxers with hot n sticky ropes of cum

“jesus christ” he breathes, “got me cumming in my pants like a damn teenager sweet girl, thats how fuckin good your pussy tastes.”

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

[brunchable]

Pregnancy Pillow vs Captain America

Pairings: Dad-to-be Steve Rogers x Pregnant Reader. Themes/Summary:Light-hearted. Steve is feeling lonely on his side of the bed, and it's the pregnancy pillow's fault. A/N: I haven't been giving Steve some love lately. . . so here a cute little oneshot of how he will react when y/n brings out the pregnancy pillow. I don't own any of the images ya'll credits to their owners.

tags: @mrsevans90 @haruvalentine4321

Steve comes out of the ensuite after his shower, his white t-shirt clinging to his body and hair damp. He throws you an easy smile, the kind that makes his blue eyes crinkle at the corners, as he heads towards the bedroom. But the moment he steps inside, he halts mid-stride, staring at the bed like it’s personally offended him.

There it is again: the pregnancy pillow. An immovable, unforgiving barricade that now divides your once-cozy bed like a dam, stretching from one end to the other. Steve tilts his head, squinting at it as if that might reduce its size.

He throws his hands on his hips and sighs dramatically. 

“You know, I fought Hydra,” he says, voice dripping with exasperation. “I’ve been through hell and back. But this—” he gestures to the pillow, “—is the one enemy I can’t seem to defeat.”

You burst into laughter from your side of the bed, propped up by a series of other pillows meant to cushion every conceivable ache or discomfort. “Steve, it’s a pillow.”

“It’s a monstrosity,” he argues. “It’s like the Great Wall of China, but made out of—” he pokes at it cautiously, like it might snap back at him, “—fluffy foam and… whatever this is.” He groans, flopping down onto his side of the bed with a huff.

“Pregnancy pillows are supposed to be supportive,” you say in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, rolling your eyes.

“Supportive?” He scoffs, attempting to squeeze his hand through the tiny gap between the pillow and your hip. “It’s so supportive I need to make an appointment to get within three feet of my wife.”

You press your lips together, trying not to laugh as you watch him contort, his long arms flailing. “I know it’s not ideal, but I need it, Steve.”

“Why does it have to be so big?” He sounds like a sullen child, tugging at the end of the pillow like he’s considering wrestling it out of the bed entirely. “Can’t they make a smaller one? One that doesn’t make me feel like I’m living on the opposite side of the planet?”

You shake your head. “Trust me, if there were a way to make it smaller and still work, I’d be using it.”

Steve finally manages to get a bit of his arm over the pillow’s edge, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder. He lets out a soft noise of triumph, and then—he leans in close, his forehead almost bumping the pillow’s fabric. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, as if the pillow itself is an eavesdropper. “Wanna come over to my side?”

Your laugh breaks out fully then. “Are you trying to seduce me over a pillow, Rogers?”

“Absolutely,” he deadpans, his face all faux-seriousness. He wiggles his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I’ve got ‘plenty’ of space over here, you know. Might be a little lonely, though. Could use some company.”

You lean back into the pillow, giggling at the sight of this fully-grown super soldier pouting at a piece of fabric. “I’m not crawling over this thing. You’ll just have to wait until the baby’s born.”

Steve blinks, his face crumpling in over-the-top shock. “Wait. Until the baby is born? That’s months away!”

“Yup.” You nod solemnly, enjoying the way his mouth drops open.

“Months?” He repeats, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “I’m supposed to be a dad in a few months and I can’t even get a hug?”

You finally give in, shifting to face him. 

“C’mere, you big baby.” With some maneuvering, you manage to reach over the pillow, clasping his face between your hands. He grins triumphantly and leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as if it’s the greatest victory he’s ever won.

Steve kisses your palm, peeking an eye open at the pillow. “We’re not done yet, pillow,” he mutters dramatically, earning another peal of laughter from you.

He straightens and stares at the pillow again, rubbing his chin like he’s trying to come up with a strategy. “Maybe… I can find a way to make this work.”

“Oh really?” you tease. “You’re gonna outsmart a pillow?”

“Absolutely.” He nods firmly. “If I can’t get past it, I’ll just have to—” With sudden determination, Steve heaves his leg over the top of the pillow, straddling it awkwardly like he’s mounting a wild horse. You raise an eyebrow, biting back a grin.

“Steve—”

He shushes you, waving a hand. “Shh. Let me have this.”

You watch, thoroughly amused, as he tries to maneuver his entire body over the pillow without crushing it—or falling off the bed. He flops, shifts, and mutters curses under his breath, but finally—finally—he makes it to your side, lying beside you with a triumphant smirk.

“See?” he pants, a little out of breath. “I did it.”

“Wow,” you say, clapping lightly. “Captain America, conqueror of pillows.”

“Damn right.” He beams at you, his face flushed from the exertion. “Now…” He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, despite the awkward angle. His hand, large and warm, comes to rest gently on your rounded stomach. His thumb makes slow circles over the fabric of your nightshirt, brushing against the small rise. The smile that spreads across his face is soft, almost reverent. 

“Hey there, little one.”

The teasing, playful glint in his eyes fades to something softer, more intense as he gazes down at your belly. His palm splays wide, covering the bump entirely, and he rubs with a featherlight touch. You feel the familiar flutter of movement beneath his hand, and Steve’s entire face lights up.

“Did you feel that?” He whispers, eyes wide with wonder, his breath catching.

You nod, your hand covering his, sharing the moment with him. “That’s your baby, Steve.”

He swallows hard, blinking away the sudden moisture in his eyes as he continues to trace gentle patterns on your skin. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I can’t believe… this is happening.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion he’s never been able to hide from you. “You’re going to be a wonderful dad.”

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Only because you’re going to be an amazing mom,” he murmurs against your skin. His hand lingers on your stomach, his fingers spreading as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of it.

The baby shifts again, and Steve lets out a soft laugh, a sound filled with awe. “I’m pretty sure this little one already loves you more than anyone else.”

“And what about you?” you tease, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

He shrugs, eyes still fixed on your stomach. “I’ll just have to win them over.” He glances up, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Starting with getting rid of this pillow.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nice try, Captain. It stays.”

He sighs dramatically but leans down to kiss your belly one more time. “Okay, okay, you win,” he mutters, though the smile on his face is nothing short of blissful. “For now.”

You lean back, resting your hand atop his, and the two of you stay like that for a while—Steve murmuring quiet promises to the baby, his fingers drawing lazy circles over your belly. Even with the pillow still stubbornly wedged between you, it’s one of the most intimate moments you’ve ever shared.

Steve might be fighting a losing battle against the Great Pillow, but right now, with his hand on your stomach and your laughter filling the room, he’s never felt closer to you.

[georgiapeach30513]

Nothing You Could Do, Part 2

Summary: Steve has to find you, and be honest.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (M receiving), 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @saradika-graphics

You ache. Your body is on fire, and hurting in places you didn’t think possible. Your muscles tinge with the ways they were stretched, pulled, and relished. Your core throbs with a rawness of where Steve was all night long. Riding you. Moving inside of you, and fucking inot you.

All. Fucking. Night. Long.

How many showers have you had? Orgasms? How many ways were you twisted in a pretzel? And how is this hard body still so soft and warm in the most comforting of ways? You sit up groaning, and stretching out your wrought body, wondering just how you did the things you did. Eyes closing, you inhale. The heady scent of fucking Steve is all around you.

Who is this man? And can he do what he did to you again next weekend? Your body will need a few days to recover after that marathon. You could get used to this. Normally you’re sneaking out, avoiding anymore conversation with the loser laying beside you. But this man is no loser. That is a man. All man. Every inch of him.

A very delicious, filthy, thick, sexy, hot, beautiful, warm man. You’re getting ahead of yourself, but you like this one. Like him enough to not want to run off. Like him just enough to want to cook something that was prepared in the microwave. You’re saving money after all, and only one person.

“Lay back down,” Steve pulls on your arm, bringing you back to his snuggly chest. His titties are like hard pillows, but in a good way. Your hand grazes up the sizable pec, playing with his hair on his chest when he groans. “How are you feeling?”

“Like you turned me out. You know what a balloon looks like when it’s been blown up, and it slowly deflates? That’s how my pussy feels,” that is one way to put it. She’s sore, and you don’t even recognize her.

He releases a hoarse chuckle, and that very pussy of yours pings at the sound. How is that sexy? Down girl. Do not get wet. “Well, I guess it’s good that there’s no more condoms, so I’m sorry, but we cannot be fucking anymore.”

“I don’t know whether to be thankful or whine that you’re not going to fuck me again,” your mind and body are saying two different things. Even though it might be difficult, the idea of having him inside of you again makes slick rush to your core, and you curse yourself.

“I wouldn’t say never again. But,” he yawns, stretching out his body. Tightening his muscles, and you grow weak. Wetness leaks out of you.! “But the lack of condoms, and your deflated balloon pussy, we’ll have to hold off.”

“Steve!”

“That’s what you called her!”

“You were the one that was fucking me hard last night!”

Steve gasps dramatically. Clutching his invisible pearls, “You kept screaming for me to fuck you harder!”

“I lacked the ability to talk last night. So this was determined to be a lie,” he snorts, rolling his eyes as he sits up in bed. The sheet drops around his beautiful body, and his cock is already hardening. Slut. “What are you doing?”

“Spread your legs, I want to see how swollen she is.”

“Why?” Smirking that devilish smile, and his fucking damn eyebrow, and you’re already spreading your legs, and leaning back on your elbows as he centers himself between your legs. So close your sex, and you can’t have him.

“Aww, honey, you’re soaked.”

“Am not,” he swipes a thick finger through your slit and holds up the sticky mess for you to view. “You’re so hot! She can’t help it.”

“Well, she is such a pretty girl. My god, she’s still so swollen, and gaping from my cock,” more like the pounds from his pelvis. The slaps from his hands. The suck from his lips, and the bites.

“You bit my clit last night!”

“If I recall, you cried out my name, and wet my face because you came so hard from your clit being bitten,” okay. This is nice. The most filthy words are being spread between the two of you, and it still is fun. “She is a pretty little pussy.”

“You keep staring, and I’ll have to,” you cut yourself off. No, you wouldn’t say such things. You know absolutely nothing about the crazy man that says he’s a presidential candidate, and that should be enough to get you running far far away.

“If we do this again, I’d like to get tested, and then we’ll cross that bridge. I’m only protecting both of us,�� you know. It was just a moment of weakness. He leans forward kissing the lips between your legs, and sighs, “Still so sweet. But she does look a bit tired.”

“Did you just say that my pussy looks tired?”

“Seems like she’s not used to such a big cock.”

“She’s not,” not by a long shot. Not even your toys were quite that large.

“That’s too bad. You should be fucked good, and often. But she needs some rest,” his voice goes up too many octaves, and he baby talks to your sensitive flesh, and then pushes your legs together. finishing the conversation with ‘her’, and looks up at you. “However, do you want to see if you can come by sucking my cock?”

“Is that a thing?” There is no way that is a thing.

“Well, you could get on your knees on the couch, and let me fuck your mouth, and if you’re an extra good girl, I’ll even finger you,” oh. Oh, that sounds really nice. Sitting up on the bed, Steve pinches your nipples, and pulls you to him. Crashing his lips into yours, and he devours you. Kissing should not be this sexy. But there is an art to kissing. There needs to be enough hardness, but still have that element of soft sweetness.

He keeps his fingers on your nipples, rolling them between his thumbs, and then pinching harder, only to let go. The ultimate tease, and menace, and your body loves every second of it. “Can we keep the curtains open?”

He sucks on your tongue as he slowly pulls off you. Releasing your muscle slowly, and those dark blue eyes stare intently on your face. “It’s early.”

He looks towards the window, and starts to draw the curtains. Acting oddly about keeping everything hidden before he gives you a small little space of light. You love this city. Love being able to see it while still sleeping. “Is that all?”

“What do you think will happen if someone gets a picture of us in that position?” Who would want a picture of the two of you?

“Oh, that’s right, Mr. President.”

“You keep talking like that, and I won’t finger you,” you hop out of the bed, sauntering over to the couch before getting on all fours, and you wiggle your ass. “I’d really like to see you with a plug in that tight little ass.”

“Oh, while not opposed to anal play of any kind, I have to know you very well.”

Placing himself directly in front of you, he places each hand on your head. Keeping his eyes on you before you open your mouth wide. Sticking out and flattening your tongue, “Neither do I. Now, suck my cock, princess,” his voice is raw. So deep and raspy from the night before as he pushes into your mouth, and you hollow out your cheeks. Receiving him all the way into the back of your throat.

Peering up at him with glossy eyes as he pets around your face. Admiring just how submissive you could be. He fucks into you gently. Lazily even. Pumping his cock into you with a need to empty himself one more time, but this time, inside of you. Your lung sting with the lack of oxygen. Burning for another inhale before he pulls himself fully out, and air races into your lungs but he drives back into you quickly.

“My god, you look absolutely gorgeous like this,” his calloused thumb caresses your cheek as he beams down to you. “So pretty,” he repeats, and you open yourself wider. There’s no way that you’ll be able to take all of him in your mouth without him going down your throat. And maybe one day you’ll advance to that, but not today.

He slaps on your naked rear, chuckling when you lurch forward. “How’s this pretty little pussy looking, hmm?” He leans over your body, forcing you to take more of him, and he grabs each ass cheek, spreading you so wide. Steve gazes at your tender flesh, so raw and sore looking from his thrusts. Only a tiny part of him feels bad about it. The other part is so proud that you took him so well. And wants to know what you sound like when you squirm if he enters you again.

“She is looking a little bit sad, and she’s still crying for me, Princess,” you hum. Preening at his words. “But you did such a good job at being my little slut,” oh the degrading praises should not make your cunt throb the way it does. “You like that, hmm? You like me owning you?”

“Mhmm,” you say, your mouth full of him.

His fingers circle around your entrance, but never sink in their depths. He spreads around your sticky honey, and too gently rubs on your bundle of nerves. Even though you're sore, you want him. You whimper around his length, and he tsks, “I know. I know you think that you can handle it, but I’m not so sure. Maybe one finger?”

He answers by dipping one finger into your body, and he moves in and out of you at the same speed that you suck on his cock. You create a lazy little pattern. Moaning at the way that it feels almost sweet, in a very disgustingly slutty sort of way. And then he adds another finger, and his breathing hitches.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but she looks just as good stretching around my fingers. Where did you come from?” The sound in his voice makes you want to suck his soul right through his cock. It’s what he deserves for talking to you like that. He deserves to see you on your knees, ready to receive him.

You didn’t care that he is a crazy lying man. You can role play for this man. You’re the princess of Monaco, and he can be the president of the United States. You’d meet him at bars, and play all coy. You’d even wear a tiara if it meant that he was going to make you feel so — alive. Cherished. Pleasured.

The man has been treating you like an absolute whore, and it feels so fucking good. This is the treatment that women deserve on a daily basis. Men had the tools, but didn’t have the know-how. Steve knows how to make you feel lighter than air. Swimming in a sea of orgasms. Even sucking his cock while he fingers you is making arousal drip down your thighs.

Coating your legs, while Steve pants over you. Maneuvering your body, you cup his balls. Gently start to massage them, and the squeak and hitch in his voice makes you feel so powerful. You could own this man if you so chose to. And it only seemed fair since he without a doubt owned every inch of you, and every ounce of your pleasure.

You were utterly destroyed for other men, and it didn’t even have anything to do with love, it had to do with pure unadulterated pleasure. Animalistic even. No emotions are involved, but you feel it’s your duty to mate with this man. You’ve got to extend his genes, and you also know that you sound like a fucking idiot. What woman has sex with a man one night, and wants to procreate with him? Not really you, but you’d consider it.

“God, your mouth is perfect. I have never wanted — wanted to — fuck!” His words trail off as his hips start to buck into you more than you bobbing on him. He wants to come. He’s desperate to release, and can’t even think of his filthy words that you love too much. No, this man is melting into your palms from your amazing blowjob.

His movements become staggered and uneven. “You’re too good. Too fucking good,” ahh, that’s sweet. Romantic even. “Wh-wh-what — what’re you — what are,” you don’t know what he’s trying to say, don’t even care. You’ve made him breathless, and unable to speak, so you feel magical.

He fucks into you one hard deep thrust. His balls tighten ever so slightly, and you feel his warmth coat the back of your mouth. His essence starts to drip down your throat, and he stands to full height, “Get on your back, and I’ll let you come on my mouth,” you shake your head no as you sit down on the couch, “What? You didn’t come.”

“I know,” your voice is rough. Wiping around your mouth, you just smile at him. “Steve, trust me when I say that you more than supplied enough orgasms for me last night. And honestly, I don’t know if my body can handle another one.”

“It can,” his mouth tips up into a smile, and you shake your head no. “Yes, your body can take it. Let me prove it.”

“Or,” you wager with him. You’d take another one, but honestly, you’re starving. “How about you use whatever card you used to pay for this room, and get us the biggest breakfast that you can think of, and while we wait we can shower, and I can walk around with your shirt on.”

“And then…?”

“We part ways for now,” his face falls a bit with that remark. It’s not that you wanted to leave him, but you could get lost in fucking him. Forget your life, and your goals to to pleasure this man, and you didn’t want or need to do that.

He wasn’t quite ready to part ways with you, but he knew that Gail would be calling. There is always something to do, and he’d rather end things on a good positive note, and while he could actually tell you goodbye, and not have to run off to a meeting. He nods, agreeing to your terms, and sends a message to Peter. He needs a suit, and a car. And you need for him to wash your hair, and for him to treat you to an amazing breakfast.

But he wasn’t finished with you. Not by a long shot. He just hopes you’re not finished with him. Especially once you find out the truth. How you didn’t even know who he is, is still a mystery to him. But he’ll chalk it up to someone that did not get into politics, despite living in the city. It’s okay. As long as you aren’t down for just last night.

Steve twirls your earring in between his fingers. You’d lost the earring in the bed last night. At least he had an excuse to see you again. But a fake name. Of course you would use a fake name, and he honestly can’t say that he blames you. He didn’t expect any of that. He also doesn’t regret any of it. He wants to repeat it, but on a completely honest playing field.

His eyes start to close slowly, and he’s thankful that the team meeting is over. Starting to stand to leave, Gail shakes her head no, and points to his chair. He’s a grown man, but he knows that Gail’s job is not easy. Knows that she means well, even if she treats him like a child sometimes.

“I want everyone out of this room, except for you, Mr. Barnes,” her eyes stay on Steve, so he knows he’s included in staying behind. “Peter, have someone guarding the door,” his personal assistant gives a nod before Gail stands at the opposite end of the table. Her arms stretch wide over the table. Gail’s hand grips each side of the table as her vision narrows on Steve, but he remains leaning back in his chair comfortably.

“Is there something you would like to tell me, Steve?”

“This was an excellent meeting,” she clears her throat. “Umm, your pantsuit looks incredible,” she throws a Manila folder towards Steve and Bucky, and paparazzi photos billow out, and Steve pulls one up. You. There you were with your hand on his chest, while you gave him the best goodbye kiss, and he stuffs you in the car he had ordered.

“The fact that you have these photos is highly creepy.”

“The fact that you put yourself in this fucking position is idiotic,” here we go. “You are campaigning to become president. When I told you to find someone for your arm, I didn’t mean find a DC whore.”

“Woah, woah. You can change your tone immediately right now.”

“Who is she?” That is a great question, and one that Steve couldn’t fully answer despite Bucky finding your real name. “You men are insufferable. And you,” she points at Bucky. “You let him?” Bucky shrugs, smirking at her. “I guess your boy needed to get laid?”

“I guess you need to,” Bucky responds, and quickly turns to his nails. Pretending to clean something from under them.

“Steve, do you know what this means?” Not fully another than the fact that she is annoying him.

“That I’m a grown man that had consensual sex with an amazing woman that I met at a bar,” Gail’s laugh barks out of her mouth, and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Finally got rid of that tension headache that has plagued me for a week.”

“What about the security video?” Bucky’s head turns towards Steve, and he starts to laugh.

“Excuse me?” Steve asks her. What is she getting at with the security video.

“You pay enough money, and the fucking hotel talks,” Steve looks towards his friend, not fully understanding. “Good thing I paid the money. You fucking idiot,” she slides over a flash drive. “I made sure it was deleted completely from their hard drive. But you were fingering this whore in the elevator?”

Bucky bellows out a laugh, holding onto his stomach, but Steve glares at his campaign manager, “That’s the second time that you’ve called her that, and I suggest you remove that word from your vocabulary when concerning her.”

“What is this?”

“I don’t know,” Gail’s hip cocks to the side. “I truly don’t know. You want to know what happened? I met this incredibly awkward and charming bartender,” Gail groans, but Steve gets louder, “She didn’t even know who I was. She just treated me like a human. And yes, I was extremely attracted to her, and by the end of the evening, I had to have her, and she was consensually in agreement. We went to a hotel, and I fucked her six times. And then she gave me the best head I’ve ever had the next morning. We showered, I fed her, and then I made sure her cute little ass got in the car safely. That’s it. Now, can you please explain what the fuck you’re going on about.”

Gail takes a slow breath, and starts to walk towards Steve, gathering up the photos taken from the morning after his night with you. “You are the most eligible bachelor in the country. I have told you that your odds for election would look better if you had someone on your arm. I explained to you that we could find you a suitable wife,” Steve snorts, gawking at her.

“Yes, Steve, suitable. Not some random bar whore.”

“You will not speak of her like that. If I hear you say that one more time, I will find another campaign manager,” the only time you were a whore is when you were on your knees, for him.

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t even know her. Do I see myself able to love her? Of course,” placing all the photos into the folder, she shoves it up against his chest.

“Then I suggest you find your Cinderella, and you turn her into your girlfriend. Have someone give her a new wardrobe. Give her a salary. Buy a damn ring, I really don’t fucking care. Make America fall in love with her, and get ahead of your sneaky link. Because while you don’t like me calling her a whore, what do you think the opposition will call her?” Steve glares at her. She isn’t entirely wrong. He knows that if you aren’t attached to him, it could be very bad for both of you.

He didn’t care about himself. But you went into this relationship blind. Not that it’s a relationship. But it was the best night of his life. And you were none the wiser for the photos, and the video. He’d been careless, and it put you at risk. “Go now,” she warns, and he stands slowly.

He keeps eye contact as he turns towards the door. “Steve, I can’t stop the photos from going to press. You understand that, right?”

Cracking his head, he nods. Motioning for Bucky to join him, “And Barnes, I expected more from you.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. Steve’s a big boy. He’s still alive, and he needed that night,” Bucky knew how badly Steve needed to let go, and be a normal man for once.

“And we all need a win,” she says with finality as she spins on her heels, and clicks out of the boardroom.

“Are we fucked, Bucky?”

“Nah, we just have to make sure the address that I have actually fits your princess. The only hope you have is that she agrees to — the terms? That sounds disgusting. A relationship. But it’ll be fully public. And I don’t think she believed at all that you were running for president.”

You didn’t. He knew deep down that you had no idea who he was. But that was the best part. There were no preconceived notions on how you should be. You even called him Mr. President, and it sounded so good coming out of your mouth. He hoped that he didn’t fuck up the chance at a relationship.

You groan as you look down at the spilt ice cream on your shirt. You wanted that last bite. Everyone knows the last bite is the best bite. It’s completely why you just don’t share the last bite with someone unless you really really like them. You look around the apartment, but know there is no one in here to judge you.

Once satisfied that there aren’t any spiders or ghosts watching, you wipe up the frozen treat off your shirt, and use your mouth to clean it off. It doesn’t taste as good as it would have if it was from the spoon, but beggars can’t be choosers, and you really wanted that last bite.

Now you’re left feeling dissatisfied, and the ice cream wasn’t even the problem. The problem was you still feel him. And the worst part of feeling him is you don’t have him here with you to fix the problem. You doubt that there are enough condoms in the world to fix the aching in your core.

You miss him.

And you don’t even have the right to miss him. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know if Steve was his real name. Didn’t know what he actually did for work. In retrospect you didn’t know much about this man and his magic cock. And mouth.

Ahh his mouth.

It wasn’t even what he could do with his mouth. It’s the things he said. How he commanded you with so very little effort, but the best part is he delivered on his words. He made them sound delicious, and that you earned them. But! He earned it as well. It doesn’t even make sense, and you’ve tried to wrap your head around it. And you’d tried.

You have tried since the moment you left him to compare any man that you have ever been with, or could ever be with to him. It was a stupid endeavor. There isn’t another Steve. You sigh, leaning your head back on the couch, trying to figure out the best way to locate him. You had to find out. You just had to.

You must have fallen asleep. A beautiful wet sleep with Steve as the lead. And now you’re woken up with a banging on the door. Your head feels so heavy as you lift it off the back of the couch, and now you have an obnoxious crick in your neck. What did you do to deserve this? You’re in pain, and you were just getting to the good part; Steve blowing his load inside of you.

You’re obsessed, you know it, but you don’t care. It’s shameless, but only you knew how you were down bad for that man. The banging on the door continues, and you squint at your phone. You didn’t have anything delivered, so you’re not sure who could be here.

Groggily standing up you walk towards the door, and open it up without asking any questions. Because you’re a crazy person. Peeking through the crack, you’re met with glass blue eyes, and you jump back from the door, fully awake now. “Sweetheart, you should really learn to open the door better.”

Now that you’re not in the doorway, he pushes on through, and a familiar groan growls behind him, “Steve?”

“Yep,” the creepy shadow man that follows him around everywhere steps further into your space. Your home, and starts opening cabinets, and doors, and you look towards the door where Steve is standing. He shakes his head, looking as annoyed as you before stepping inside.

You’ve never been able to manifest things before, and this is not exactly how you thought you would see Steve again. “I apologize for his intrusion,” he takes another step into your apartment, and then looks at you, “May I come in?”

“May you explain to me what is going on?”

“That’s fair,” he stands there, looking at you questioning before you hold your arm out, letting him know to come in. Steve offers you a terse smile before walking in, and closing the door, and fully locking it. You get into the sitting area, and glare at his friend relaxing on the couch and his legs propped up as if this is normal.

“Can I get you some drinks or something?” The shadow man smiles, nodding his head, and Steve responds with a thank you. Your apartment is an open floor plan, and you don’t have to go far, but letting them know the embarrassing list of things that are in your fridge is terrifying.

“Um, I’ve got — uhhh — Yoo-hoos, Capri Suns, filtered water, cold brew, and Hawaiian Punch,” both men stare blinking at you a moment before the odd one smiles.

“Are you a child?”

“Bucky and I will have a Capri Sun,” so the shadow man had a name. That’s good. You get each of you a Capri Sun, and toss one to the men. “Pacific Cooler, this one is my favorite.”

“When you were eight.”

“Can we not make fun of the impeccable beverage I just offered you, and explain to me why you’re both in suits, and I’m in my disgusting sweats. I could have made more of an effort had I known,” you could have been waiting with lingerie and condoms.

Steve takes a deep breath, looking at Bucky, and then back at you, “You lied about your name,” you glance towards his friend who is looking more comfortable, while Steve is standing, and staring at you.

“Yeah, well you work at a bar in this city long enough you know not to be giving random weird men your name. They have a tendency to stalk you.”

“They won’t be doing that while I’m around,” you narrow your eyes towards Bucky, wishing that Steve would open that beautiful mouth. But instead you get the weirdo.

“Have you had someone stalk you before?” Aww, he’s concerned.

“Yeah, but stop talking about me. What the hell are you two doing here, drinking my Capri Suns?”

“You know your social media is quite blank?” Bucky scrolls through his phone, and you want to hurl it at him. “That will make this quite easy. Oooh, you know Scandal is a bit of an overrated show, but I’m glad you have the tiniest bit of knowledge with politics.”

“I really don’t like him,” you point towards Bucky. “Can you shed some light here?” you’re seriously about to get pissed off. Stupid shadow Bucky is scrolling through your social media, and judging your show of choice, while the man with a magic dong is just standing there. “Steve?”

“I don’t know where to begin. You seriously don’t follow politics at all?”

“Why?” You ask annoyed.

“What?”

“Why should I follow politics? It’s just a bunch of white old men who think they know what is best for me. They don’t. Did I offend your career? What, are you like a mayor or something?”

“Or something,” Bucky grins.

“Do we have to have him here?” You point towards Bucky, and both men nod their head. “Okay. So you’re actually in politics. I apologize for my impedance in knocking you down to just a mayor. So you’re a senator?” He shakes his head no. “Congressman?” Again, shakes his head no.

You look towards Bucky, and he smiles again, while you walk over to your beanbag, and start to sink on it. The beanbag was your safe space. It makes you feel all cocooned as bad things happen. “What are you?”

“I’m a presidential candidate,” he didn’t lie. He didn’t lie to you. Oh god, you’re going to be sick. The possible president of the United States tea bagged you. He treated you like an absolute slut, and you loved it. You pull your blankie up to your chin, and think about all the ways this man degraded you.

“To be fair, I did not lie to you.”

“Shh!” You scold, you are going into your brain. Because your body, and your mind are confusing. Your body wants to go to Steve, and let him fuck you into oblivion. Your mind is trying to wrap itself around the fact that you fucked, multiple times, the possible future president of the United States. “How likely are you to win?”

“He’s leading the polls,” you don’t like that man.

“So, um why are you here?”

Steve’s sighs, and sits on the edge of the couch closest to you, and his thick fingers caress your temple. Moving over to your nose, where he runs a finger up and down it. “My mom used to do that for me when I’d get in my head,” it’s nice, but you’re not saying another word, until he starts talking.

“Because of my position people tend to follow me,” he clears his throat, adjusting his tie with his left hand, and it stresses you out. “People with cameras.”

“Is there a sex tape of us? Oh my god! Does this mean that mom is going to see you with your thumb in my ass, while you’re fucking me from behind?” among other things.

“My god!” Bucky gives a whoop, and you look over towards him. “I’ll go wait in the hallway. Can I get another Capri Sun?”

“Are you eight?”

“Only in my head,” he gives you a wink, walking towards your fridge, and you curl back into yourself.

“You can pet my nose again,” Steve smiles, and starts to pet your nose, “So there’s a sex tape? How do we get on top of this? Are my parents going to see me crawling on the floor towards you?”

“There is no sex tape, Princess,” that’s nice. You like that name very much. “There’s pap photos of you doing the walk of shame out of the Four Seasons,” oh. My. God! There is too much to process there. “You’re covered, but there’s one of me kissing you.”

“Doing that chin tilt up thing?” He nods his head, and you very much would like to see this photo. “I don’t know if I understand.”

“Well,” he gulps. “Can I join you on that thing?”

“The Lovesac?”

“That’s what the beanbag is called?” You nod, scootching over a bit to give him room, and the big man gets into your cocoon with you. He pulls you over onto him, and you start to melt. Yes, he was amazing with his cock, but honestly, the cuddling was just as amazing. How warm and snuggly he feels. Both hard and soft.

“There’s only one way I can protect you from the public,” you’re listening. Lifting up his hand to weave your own with his. “It’s not the most ideal, and you are free to walk away. But if we put it out there that you are my girlfriend, and not just some hookup it won’t make you look like…”

“Your whore,” you whisper. Dropping his hand, while you focus more on your blankie.

“Essentially,” there’s something so reassuring about his voice. He understands why you would choose not to agree to this. But there seems to be a hope that you will.

“So I would be hired to walk by your side as your girlfriend with no strings attached?” It feels so grimy when you say it out loud. You didn’t want to be a girlfriend for hire, and you doubt that Steve would want that either.

“Is that what you would want?”

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice. Either I pretend to be your girlfriend, or I’m labeled as the president’s whore. I won’t be able to live in the city ever again. I’d have to go back to bum fuck Egypt in my small hometown just hoping that nobody pays attention to presidential gossip. Why — why didn’t you…I mean you did. I know that you did. And I said it over and over again, but I just thought you had a president kink. And now here you are saying it’s a high possibility that you’re going to be living in the,” an odd noise bubbles up from your throat, and you sit up.

“I think I’m going to be sick. I ate the president’s cum. I painted the president’s cum on my body. I have fantasized about fucking the president for the past few days.”

“I am still just Steve,” he reminds you, and you glance back at him. “Think of it as a job. But I am still just me. I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t fully go into the truth, and I wasn’t sure if you were doing a bit.”

“A bit?” Chuckling, you flop back on the beanbag with him. “I called myself the Princess of Monaco, and you thought I was doing a bit? What kind of weirdo do you think I am?”

“The best kind?” That was sweet. He’s sweet, and you’re not sure you’re willing to completely change your life. Could you go on the road, and campaign with him? As his significant other?

“So, let’s say that I decide to pretend to be your girlfriend,” Steve cringes. There’s something in the words that you’re saying that bothers him a bit. “Am I going to have a glow up montage?”

“What?”

“You know, like in the movies. Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman kinda thing. That was a bad example. I’m not a prostitute. Not that I care. Power to sex workers. The people work hard in that job, and it’s not just women. Men, too. But are you going to change how I look?” You can’t just walk around in your leggings and t-shirts anymore.

“Publicly,” hmm. That’s an interesting way to say it. He doesn’t care what you wear in private.

“So will I get to live at the White House with you. If you win, I mean. I don’t know if you’re superstitious, but that sounds like a terrible thing to say. But can an unmarried couple sleep there?” You gasp, “Will you be the first president that just has his live-in girlfriend there? Would we share a room?”

“Shh,” he coos, trying to get your racing brain to calm down. But how can it calm down when you’re going between excited and sick to your stomach? “You wouldn’t be just my girlfriend on the campaign.”

“Come again?”

“It’s suggested that you would be my fiancé. It sounds a bit more permanent,” that sick feeling is bubbling up in your gut again. The Capri Sun is not sitting well. This just went to a place you didn’t think it would.

“So a pretend fiancé now?”

“Can we drop pretend?” That’s what’s bothering him? The word pretend?

“Wait. Not pretend?”

“I’d prefer not. We’re being honest, and I wasn’t going to say anything, but the idea that you’re just there to look good on my arm is making me sick. We had sex. We had amazing sex, but I don’t want to just have sex with you,” what does that mean? “I would like to spend time with you. Actually date. Have you become a friend during this campaign.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile, grabbing his hand again, and start playing with his fingers. He only gets the fingers when you're in a happier place. “So we date while we’re on the campaign trail. But publicly I’m your fiancé.”

“It sounds gross, I know.”

“I wouldn’t call it gross. I’ve dated a lot of frogs. I’d call it crazy. Can I ask you a question without you thinking I’m vain? Because I’m not. But when are these photos being printed?”

He scoots down more into the Lovesac making himself more comfortable, “Sunday morning,” he could have just said tomorrow, damn. That gives you no time at all to think. No time to process this.

“So I’m going to be very selfish right now,” he turns his head to look at you. “Are we going to keep doing the sex?”

“I would very much like to keep doing the sex with you,” you start counting your inhales and exhales. Traveling the country with Steve, while you also get to the sex with him is a positive. Having everyone look at you through a magnifying glass is the negative. “And I would also very much like to watch you have your glow up montage, and not in a creepy way. Only if you want me to be creepy.”

“I want you to be creepy with me sometimes,” that sounded weird even coming from you, “But I don’t know if I can do this. This is a lot. How did you find me?”

“Bucky was creepy.”

“He’s always creepy. Is he always with you?” He nods his head, “Of course he is. He’s kinda like your ninja warrior that keeps you safe.”

“Otherwise known as part of my security team, yes,” you’re going to have to learn words with him. Real words, and not just making things up.

“My words are so much more colorful than yours. Do you really think I could be a,” you retch. That doesn’t even sound right. “A First Lady?”

“Do you think I could be a president?”

“I mean maybe. I might vote for you,” he kisses the top of your head, and for the first time in this conversation, you feel oddly at peace. A small gesture. “I don’t want to spend every second with you IF I choose to do this.”

“What?”

“I mean, I can’t lose my independence. I can’t lose me. And I have never wanted to spend every waking second with someone. It’s a bit odd, ya know? I want us to do our own thing considering we’re going to be strapped together.”

“I think that’s fair, Princess,” he sits up too abruptly, leaving you wishing that he would lay back down with you. That was nice, and you want it back. “You understand that if you choose not to,” he looks away from you. Did he feel the same things that you felt that one night? It’s not love. It’s a great start to maybe finding it. And then this dumbass campaign.

“If you choose not to do this, I can’t take chances with you,” meaning he can’t sneak around and do the sex with you.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I guess that is one way to look at it,” abort mission. You don’t like that or the look in his eyes. It hurts your heart. “I can’t risk it for me, but especially not you. Things that happen in the dark eventually get brought to light.”

“Were you going to pick some random girl to be your fiancé?” He shakes his head no, and that leaves you with the tiniest bit of relief. Tiny, but still there.

“No. I was going to become a single president. Would you still like me to continue to call you Slade or Meadow?”

“Ehh, Princess is my preferred nickname,” he leans forward to kiss your forehead. Adjusting himself to stand, “Where are you going?”

“A meeting. I’ll leave my number for you, please call me, regardless of what you decide. I’ll understand no matter what your decision is,” no matter what you decide. He’s leaving it completely in your hands. Do you want your glow up montage, or do you want to become the whore that slept with the future president?

Do you want to possibly have something real with him? Or do you want to kick yourself forever and think what might have been? Back in the cocoon. And think. Or sleep. You were woken up. Make a note to do laundry because you saw Steve again with an ice cream stain on your shirt, and fluffy socks. Think. Ponder. Wonder.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @buckysteveloki-me @peaches1958

@seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightamyeoncravings

@kmc1989 @pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @distractingbeth @buckybarnesisdaddy

@musingsfromthemitten @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @elaramae @blackchickinthedesert @hisredheadedgoddess28

@otterlycanadian @mima116 @mycrimsonsparrow @loverofthedilfs

[flightlessangelwings]

Being inclusive with your reader insert fic is a kindness. It tells people of color (poc) that you are considering someone who does not look like you in your fic. It shows love and dedication to our craft. It tells poc that they belong here too and they can see themselves in your story.

Poc aren’t look for activism in fic, we know fandom isn’t that serious, but we should be able to have that same level of escapism when we turn to fic and fandom. We belong here too. This space is for everyone, not just one group of people.

Just to give a few examples of how simple it can be: say “skin warmed” instead of blushed, say “cradled your head” instead of running fingers through hair, say “angles yourself to kiss” instead of standing on tiptoes, use italics to indicate Spanish to take out a throwaway line of “you didn’t understand Spanish” things like that. Small changes that do not impact the fic at all but make a world of difference in inclusivity!

And for anything you can’t/don’t want to change, simply add warning in the beginning. Things like hair descriptors, anything reader might wear, some backstory for reader (especially involving family or where the story is set), readers job, things like that. A lot of times just having that heads up before the fic makes a world of difference!

And one example of kindness we as writers always worked to change: until recently (just a couple years ago) it wasn’t common to label the gender of the reader. But those who aren’t female asked writers to label it so they know which to read and which to avoid, and now it’s common to label the gender/pronouns of the reader. So it is possible! It just takes effort! And I’m a writer myself so I know it can be done!

We can pretend to be a bartender or a bounty hunter or an actress or anything else. But we shouldn’t have to imagine we’re a white one.

[writerstruggle]

summer plans be like

[theshamelesssimp]

When you're reading a fanfic and suddenly the reader has a name

[chrisisvbun]

three soldiers. 40s!steve rogers & 40s!bucky barnes x chubby!fem reader x origins!logan howlett.

synopsis: steve, bucky and logan, three soldiers that were hanging out in a bar, lay eyes on a beautiful woman that seems to be their type, and instead of fighting for whoever will have you, they solve things like mature men they are: having a foursome.

cw: foursome, triple penetration (jeez gurl) sweet steve, rough bucky and logan, slight bi!logan, mentions of gay sex, anal, unprotected piv, crempie, oral (both m and f), dom!logan, dom!bucky, dom!steve (mentions of sub Steve tho), chubby reader, slight mention of insecurities, fluff, aftercare.

words: 4k (I'm sorry.)

a ten nsfw chapter series masterlist.

Bucky and Steve's drinks were already empty by the time Logan approached to hang out.

The three of them were soldiers, they shared experiences, people they met, women they slept with, and they found out they shared a taste: plump, chubby women. A girl with flesh to grab, grip, bite. Extra flesh was amazing for the three of them, anywhere in the female (or male) body: tummy, hips, thighs, arms, cheeks, breasts, ass, everything was welcome.

And it's just their luck that you walk in. A gorgeous plump woman, with chubby rolls, fat thighs, broad hips, soft skin, and gorgeous cheeks that made your under eyes wrinkle when you smiled.

As you walked in, the three of them follow your body with their eyes, and where they place their eyes betray them in what they are attracted too. Bucky's eyes were staring al your fat, big thighs, and how you squeeze them together. Steve, ashamed of himself for looking at you so bluntly, was looking straight at your breasts, the cut of your dress showing how big and soft they are. And Logan, Logan was enamored with that tummy of yours, those rolls that press and show in your fat body so beautifully, in such a precious way that had him drooling. He wanted it even fatter with his baby there, but that's just the animalistic instinct talking.

So they had a bit of a chat, trying to figure out which of them was going to approach, and finally, they decided that, why not the three of them? If you backed off, the one that had more chemistry with you could try by himself.

"Hi there." Bucky smirked at you, leaning against the counter with Steve by his side and Logan from behind.

"Add what she has to my tab." Logan said, his eyes still looking down at you while he passed his card to the bartender.

"Are you all by yourself here?" Bucky said again.

"Uhm, yeah..." You said, shyly, which made the three men smirk.

"Lookin' too cute to be by yourself." Logan said from behind you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You blushed, you eyes glancing at the three men.

"Guys, we are intimidating her." Steve spoke up, and offered you his hand. You grabbed it shyly, and he kissed your knuckles. "I'm Steve Rogers."

"Bucky Barnes." Bucky gave a tiny bow, removing his hat.

"And that's Logan." Steve nodded at the mentioned, who was still enamored with your figure and your hair.

"Hi." He smiled at you, and his grin widened when you smiled back.

"So, doll, you sure you are alone here? No other men?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms.

You smiled. "Just the three of you."

"Three is a lot, isn't it?" Steve said, smirking at you while his eyes moved all over your body.

"it's not that big a number." You said, starting to get the situation.

"Really? Think you can take three?" Logan's voice was almost in your ear, his hand moved to your broad waist, squeezing it and making you gasp.

"M-maybe... I-" You swallowed, your eyes moving between the three of them. "I won't know until I try."

(...)

Logan said that his apartment was a good place, and it definetly was, he said he had the biggest bed, and the biggest mirror that covered the wall next to the bed.

And during the car ride, Logan was driving with Steve next to him, and Bucky already worked up, all over you. His hands gripped your thighs, kissing your cheek, your neck, your chest, while mumbling sweet praises. "So pretty, so soft..."

You gasped when he sat you on his lap, his hands gripping your ass like his hands where made to be there, and making out with you. His tongue was about to get all hungry inside of your mouth, until he had a taste of your sweet lips, automatically melting on your kiss. Your hands grabbed fists of his brunette hair, Bucky's hands moving under your dress to squeeze the flesh of you backside.

"Love birds." Logan called, you removed your lips from his, your lipstick over Bucky's lips and surroundings, and of course, all over your too. "We are here."

Before you could climb off his lap, Bucky lifted you easily in his broad arm, and like that, he removed all the insecurities you had about your weight, because he closed the door with one arm, while the other was under your thighs.

"Comfortable?" Steve smiled sweetly to you, and almost like he could read your mind, he kissed your sweetly while being held by Bucky. "You are beautiful, my God." He smiled between kisses, and allowing himself to move a hand to one of your big breasts. He moaned and pulled away. "Logan, be quick."

"Relax, pretty boys." Logan opened his apartment door, pushing it open to let the three of you in. "Uh-uh-uh." He stopped Bucky. "My turn."

Bucky rolled his eyes and let you stand on the floor. Before you could miss the touch of Steve and Bucky, Logan's hands were all over you from behind, gripping your waist, your breasts, your thighs, your stomach, while grunting on your ear.

"You are not that innocent, aren'tcha?" He said and kissed the shell of your ear, both of you watching Steve and Bucky removed his jackets and belts. "Takin' three men, three soldiers, you are charming, you are beautiful, this isn't your first rodeo, isn't it?"

You giggled a bit, caressing his big arms. "It isn't, but I never had three." You said, blushing. Logan chuckled, kissing your cheek.

"So sweet, I want to binge on you." He groaned and he began to trail open-mouth kisses over your neck, holding your hair behind. "Boys, let's get the princess ready."

(...)

Logan wasn't lying when he described his bedroom, he was totally right.

You were making out with Steve, he laying between your legs and holding your back to have stability. Bucky was already shirtless, Logan was watching Steve and you making out, on his white tank top and smoking a cigar.

"Steve, let the girl breath." Logan puffed out the smoke.

"Yeah, we are supposed to share." Bucky teased, lying between where Logan was sitting and where you were lying with Steve.

Bucky's hand cupped the back of your neck to kiss you, your hand went to his chest while Steve began to kiss your neck.

The differences between the best friends were clear. Steve was sweet and gentle, his bites and kisses were like cuddles in your skin, while Bucky was rough and desperate, his teeth sank on you lips and neck, trying to make you bleed, everything under Logan's gaze.

Steve's sweet hands pulled off the sleeves of your dress, kissing your shoulders and all the new skin exposed. Bucky hooked a finger on Steve's shirt.

"Take this off, man." He said as he pulled him away from your skin to be the one kissing it.

Steve rolled his eyes and removed his shirt. "You are not joining, Logan?" Steve said.

Logan checked him out a second and smirked. "I'm good watching you three for now, pretty boy, don't worry 'bout me." He winked at him, taking another drag of his cigar.

Steve chuckled, a slight blush on his cheeks. He moved to you again, pulling your dress down to leave you in your white bra and lacy blue underwear.

"Wanna get down?" Now, Steve had pulled Bucky's hair, and consequently, Bucky was removed from your skin.

His bright blue eyes moved to you, looking for your agreement. When you nodded eagerly, he smirked, and quickly began to pull down your panties and get between your legs.

You looked down at him, breathing heavily as he began to lick your slit, his warm tongue on your most sensitive part. You moaned, and your hand moved to press him more against you, a sign that allowed him to begin devouring your cunt.

Your whimpers were silenced but a pair of lips, that tasted like smoke and mint. You quickly recognize Logan's cologne, your hand moved to his hair too, kissing him hungrily while moaning against his lips.

Steve, of course, didn't want to be the four-wheel, so he unhooked your bra. His eyes brightened at the sight of your big breasts, and he started to kiss them both, squeezing them in his broad palms. He moaned against your flesh like he had never seen a pair of tits in his life.

You were overstimulated by this point. If you had to choose, Logan was the best kisser: sweet and rough at the same time, he had that cocky smirk that slipped between kisses every time you moaned. Bucky ate your cunt like it was his favorite meal: messy and hungry, his tongue lapped in your clit and when you started to get used to that, we would fuck you with his tongue, his warm muscle in and out of your tight entrance. And Steve, that sweet mother fucker was worshiping your body like you were a goddess, his hands gripped your flesh, not wanting to let you go ever. And even with his sweet nature, he covered your tits with hickeys and bite marks, he sucked your nipples and pinched them violently.

Bucky's tongue was having his wet dream coming true. A wet, fat cunt like yours, with such a sweet taste, such a responsive body with it. His head was squeezed against your thighs just like he wanted, like he had dreamt the second he layed eyes on you.

"Gonna take turns or is your friend gonna eat her out until we get tired?" Logan asked, obviously rhetorically.

"From my point of view, he looks like he is more into the second one." Steve said, his breathing ragged as he looked down at Bucky, his head squeezed in your big thighs. That mother fucker was having his fantasy coming true.

Logan rolled his eyes but his harsh look softened when he found your face: a pleasure pout, puffy red face, lips parted, heavy breath, and your little whimpers.

"Looks like Bucky is getting the first orgasm of the night." Logan teased.

"Fi-first?" You asked, whiny.

"What? You thought you would have only one orgasm with three men?" Logan raised his eyebrows in a chuckle. "Darlin', you are gonna walk out of here dry, if you can walk once we are done with you."

"What Logan means is that we have a lot of stamina on us, we are gonna take great care of you." Steve said, as he kissed your shoulder gently.

You squeaked when you felt the intrusion of Bucky's fingers inside of you, he smirked up at you as he rubbed your clit with his rough thumb, his face glistering with your slick. "C'mon, doll, lemme have the first." He said while kissing your thigh.

The knot in your tummy snapped in the second he pressed the tip of his fingers in your spongy spot, wetting the blankets under you and Bucky's hand.

"That's it, veery good." Logan soothed you, caressing your hair as you came out of your high.

Bucky removed your legs from his shoulders. "I'll take the ass"

"I'll take the front." Steve said quickly.

Logan rolled his eyes, making you giggle. He sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll have your pretty mouth then." He amirked, you giggled a bit again and he pressed a sweet kiss on your lips.

Steve removed his pants and boxers, sitting against the headboard, and helping you sit on top of him, kissing you sweetly.

"I'll be gentle, 'Kay?" He said with those sweet eyes in yours. You smiled and nodded, kissing you again.

He slowly began to sink you on his long cock, until his balls were pressed against your ass. You squeezed his shoulders, as he kissed your face to soothe you. You heard Bucky chuckle.

"If she is having problems with him, imagine what's gonna do with you." He said to Logan.

"W-what?" You said, looking at them from behind your shoulder.

"Logan is... pretty big, yeah." Bucky chuckled.

"And... and Steve is not?" You tried to understand.

"Oh, no, it's just... I'm definitely not bigger than him." He also chuckled. You almost looked scared. "You are gonna do perfect, sugar." Steve kissed your face again, as he began to rock upwards to you, slow and gentle.

All your worries dissappear once his cock began to kiss your sweet spots, briefly as he rocked against you, grunting under his breath.

"So tight, Jesus..." He threw his head back a second, but instantly moved back to kiss you, this time hungrier and deeper.

His hands grabbed your ass to move you up and down on his length, the clapping sound of his skin against yours filling the whole room.

Riding Steve was like a dream, you felt so loved and treasured, and surely you weren't expecting that in this kind of situation. His eyes looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, his hands grabbed you like you were delicate, made of porcelain. He kissed you like you were the woman of his life.

You heard the sound of fabric being removed and turned your head to see Bucky finally removing his pants. And while Steve kissed your neck as you rode him, you gasped at the sight of Bucky's cock. It had the same length as Steve's, which was already long, but it was way fatter, enough to make you doubt if it would fit in your virgin ass.

He spread the lube over his shalft, pumping it a few times before he got behind you.

"Don't you dare to stop." He smacked your ass, kissing the nape of your neck. "Gonna get you ready, and you are gonna keep riding him like a good girl, alright?" You nodded with whiny little sounds. "Very good." He smiled, peppering kisses on your neck as his big finger covered in lube began to sink in your back entrance.

You squealed at the intrusion, but you didn't stop riding Steve. The blonde kissed you, trying to soothe you from the possible pain, but there was not such thing, only raw pleasure.

After you got used to one, Bucky sank another, moving it in a scissors way to stretch you out. He whispered soft praises in your ear, telling you how well you were taking him, how tight and warm you were.

"I need you to relax, doll." He said in your ear, slowly removing his fingers. "Can you take a deep breath for me?" You nodded, inhaling, retaining, and by the second you exhaled, Bucky was already sinking his tip in.

"Oh god!" You moaned, hugging Steve's neck.

Now, you had both friends rocking against you, filling you up, getting you cockdumb with a few thrusts. Steve was hitting your cervix beautifully, while Bucky was using your tight ass, gripping your hips to rock against you harshly.

"Having a good time without me I see." Logan teased, finishing his cigar.

You looked at him, tears filling your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure that you were feeling. He removed his belt and then his tank top. You were drooling, literally, against Steve's neck, between moans, at the sight of his enormous body, that you didn't notice when he pulled off his pants, showing that Bucky and Steve where right.

He was longer than Steve, fatter than Bucky, it had a long, thick vein that started in his happy trail and finished in his tip. You were thanking and blaming God that you didn't have him in your ass or your cunt, because he was definitely gonna rip you open.

He stood in front of you, pressing his tip on your parted lips. You kissed it messily, his tip already covered in your saliva, trying to fit it in your mouth slowly due to the movements of your body. You stayed still, letting Steve jackhammer you while Bucky fucked you from behind, and slowly slid his cock in your mouth, fitting half of it.

"Can't take it?" He mocked you. "Guess I'll have to take your cunt once blondie finishes."

He grunted when your tongue moved around his thickness, pulling your hair to keep your head still, until you began to move it back and forth, gagging as you tried to take more of him

"Fuck sake..." Logan grunted loudly.

"L-language." Steve said between groans.

"Shut up or I'll use your ass as my sex toy." He threatened and laughed when noticed by your reaction that his cock throbbed inside of you at the idea.

Steve rocked against you harder, Bucky hugged your body from behind, both of them trying to get you over the edge.

Your eyes widened when both men hit your spot almost at the same time, making you clench around them as your orgasm snapped, coming all over Steve's cock and dripping into the blankets again.

Weakly, you kept sucking Logan off, your tongue lining that thick vein and giving the tip some kitten licks that made him smile between groans.

A couple of thrusts inside of you and Steve came inside of you, his thick release painting your cunt. Your legs shivered at the warm feeling, and you had to remove Logan's cock from your mouth to take a breath. But his hand moved you to make out with his cock again, showing that he wasn't done with you

Bucky's thrusts began to get irregular and messy, his pace already ruined, and with a shaky moan, he pressed head in your shoulder and his hips against your ass, which was dripping his cum in that very second.

"S-sorry..." He apologized, already sensitive, but the shaky laugh that came out after that showed that he wasn't sorry at all. "I cum a lot." He chuckled, staying inside as you kept sucking off Logan.

You were already exhausted, burnt out, and Logan could see that. He removed your head with a little pop and kissed your cheek.

"Take a breath." He mumbled. "And you two, get off. Gonna show you how it's done." He teased, although there was some truth behind his words.

Bucky removed first, you hissed a bit as clinged to Logan, who helped you lift your hips in order to Steve to roll off. He lied you on the bed, getting between your legs and putting them on his shoulders. He kissed your ankle gently as he slid in.

You moaned weakly, mumbling something like you couldn't take it anymore.

"You sure? Because she seems to be sucking me in." He teased, slowly rocking his hips against you, Steve's cum still dripping from there.

In a second, he gripped your legs and began to fuck himself inside of you, mocking your expressions as you got overwhelmed once again with how he filled you up. You loved riding Steve, it was magical, but missionary with Logan? He hit the right spots with every movement, definetly a winner.

He suddenly stopped, looking behind him to find both young boys with their hands on their cocks, two pairs of eyes on how your tits and rolls bounced.

"You know, boys." He started. "I think there is enough room."

Your eyes darted between Logan and the two friends, slowly understanding the situation. Logan smirked when you clenched around him at the idea. "And someone here seems to like the idea."

You looked at the three men now in front of you, broad and masculine. Steve pressed your left knee in your chest while Bucky did the same with your right one, your abused hole with Logan's dick still inside now in sight.

Slowly, Bucky slid in, you whimpered at the stretch, but still taking it, breathing in and out.

"You look like you are giving birth." Bucky teased, Logan grunted.

"Don't give me ideas."

Steve gently slid half of his length in, with each inch, your moans got louder and louder, you could have come in that second.

Three cocks inside was a lot, too much, of course, but you were taking it so good that it seemed like you did this every single time.

"Such a dirty whore, taking three cocks like a champ." Logan teased, starting to slowly fuck himself inside of you.

Steve did the same, although much slower and gentle. Bucky snapped his hips against you in a quicker pace, watching how his cock disappeared inside of you.

It didn't take long for you to feel that knot in your tummy undoing itself, each thrust a little pull that threatened to snap it.

"I-I..." You babbled, just noticing you were drooling over your chin. "Cum... p-please..." You managed to pronounce.

"Cum, huh?" Bucky smirked, grunting as he kept thrusting.

"Well aren't you pretty?" Logan teased. "She is taking us so well, maybe you deserve to cum." His broad hand moved to knead your breast.

"She does, of course she does." Steve moaned low, and his rough thumb moved to your abused cunt, finding your clit and flicking it in his pad.

"Oh god!" You sobbed, gripping Logan's forearm and the bedsheets.

You threw your head back and simply allowed yourself to let it go. The room was filled with the clapping sound of skins snapping against each other, grunts, groans, growls and moans, whiny airy sounds that sometimes appeared from the men's lips.

Finally, the knot snapped undone and you came, you came a lot, there was a big stain in the bedsheets that was your art piece, and your entrance was dripping a thicker fluid that covered their cocks that, after a few thrusts, began to come, one by one.

Your core and thighs were a mess of slicks, and you, you were a shivering disaster at this point, shaking with overstimulation, your pupils dilated like you were on drugs.

Bucky was the first to cradle you in his arms, holding you against his chest while cuddling your sides.

"Get her clean, I'll change the sheets so we can rest." Logan said once he caught his breath.

Bucky lifted you easily, rocking you as he moved to the bathroom with Steve. The blond caressed your hair and kissed your face while Bucky cleaned you gently, his hands moving over your body with nothing other than affection and care. Once cleaned and dry, Logan put you on some boxers of his and one of his flannels.

"Ready to sleep, beautiful?" He asked, caressing your hair. You smiled lovingly and nodded, making him smile too and he leaned to kiss your nose.

"Here, doll." Bucky handed you a cup of tea. "That throat must hurt." He kissed the top of your head.

"You made me tea?" You asked surprised, your eyes shining at him.

"Of course I did, doll, why so surprised?" He lied in the right side of the bed, with you sitting between Logan's leg and resting your back and head on his chest, his arms around you.

"I didn't expect this, that's all." You said shyly, drinking from your beverage.

"Well, that's the bare minimum, you were so kind letting us do this with you, and you took it great." Steve said softly, kissing your forehead and laying on the other side.

"You three do this often?" You asked curiously.

"Never the three of us, Steve and I have done threesomes, but never with the old machine." Bucky elbowed Logan, who rolled his eyes.

"And it was a great experience, darlin', I must admit." Logan nuzzled against your hair, the two soldiers nodded along.

"Well, I wouldn't mind repeating it other time." You fidgeted with the cup.

"Is that so?" Steve pressed his face in your shoulder, smiling sweetly at you.

Bucky's hand move to caress your thigh. "I wouldn't mind either." He kissed your arm gently.

"Well, everyone seems happy in this situation." Logan sighed. "Guess we will have to share you, because if we do this everytime, we are gonna end up breaking you."

"I'll take the first." Steve said quickly.

"I'll take the second!" Bucky followed alone.

"Don't you think she gets the right to choose, you idiots?" Logan huffed, and you giggled.

"I'll take Logan first." You answered.

"Oh, come on!" Bucky pretended a complain.

"He earned it!" You giggled.

"Yeah, I got the apartment." Logan added along. "And I'm the eldest."

"How old are you?" You asked innocently. The three men got silent.

"You don't wanna know yet, darlin'."

[imyourbratzdoll]

Breeding Kink Steve/Bucky eventho you already have a couple of kids 🫣

hi baby! I'm so sorry for taking so long, I hope you like what I wrote.

summary - breeding kink gone wild, your husbands take it to the next level by forever wanting you to carry their child.

warning - smut, breeding kink, sorta dubcon but not really, mentions of pregnancy, creampie, threesome.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“C’mon, Doll. Let us pump you full, want you to have our babies.” Bucky groans in your ear, pressed against your back where you can feel his bulge. You whine, letting out a breathy whimper as Steve grips your hips, pressing soft kisses to your neck, occasionally marking it as well.

“What do you say, Sweetheart? Wanna be full of our cum?”

You squirm, vision becoming hazy as lust clouds your mind. “B–but, we already have two…” Your head falls back, moaning loudly as their cocks slide inside of you without much warning. You didn’t even see them take their cocks out. Your cunt clenches around them, arousal dripping down their thick members, making it easier for them to thrust into you.

“Doesn’t matter, Doll. We wanna breed you forever and watch you grow with our child.” Bucky thrusts in and out, hands sliding up your body until they grasp your breasts. His moans so close to your ear that it causes tingles to spread throughout your body, your cunt clenching around your men. 

Steve groans, biting down on his bottom lip hard as he looks down at you with dark eyes. Your own cloudy ones connect with his, lips parting as you feel them pulse inside of you, gripping them tightly when they hit your sweet spot. Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and groans slip past his lips as he pounds into you hard and fast, feeling your little cunt clench around him from his brutal thrusts. 

They continue to have their way with you, fucking you so hard that you see stars. Your juices squirt out of you, causing their cocks to twitch and pump you full of their cum once again. Filling you with large amounts that will likely be the cause of your next pregnancy. Steve and Bucky take turns kissing your lips before cleaning you up. They lay you down on your large bed and grin as they caress your stomach, waiting for the moment you pop this one out for them to start all over again. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.