#steve rogers is allowed to be sad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imyourbratzdoll · 13 days ago

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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - you come to find out that the man you grew up alongside isn't the same after the royal ball.

warning - smut, dub-con, death, violence, creampie, kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, swearing, obsession.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Y/n-Odette and Steve had known each other since she was a baby. Upon Steve meeting her when she was born, their parents had been planning Steve’s marriage to Y/n-Odette. Over the years as the two grew, they despised each other, causing their parents to worry which they would then be forced to be together every summer.

You had been dreading today. You wished to stay home but your father would not allow it. You sat in the carriage, staring out at the scenery, hoping you could distract your mind from having to see Steve again.

Steve squirmed impatiently, thinking of anything that wasn’t you. A stupid, silly girl. Steve groaned quietly as he went to meet you in the ballroom until he stopped, his heart began to thump. Your smile made him feel weak in the knees. You had the same face, hair and eyes as Y/n-Odette but seemed to be someone quite different.

“Hello, Steve.” You speak, smiling softly.

Steve couldn’t speak, he wondered if you were the same girl he had grown up with. He returned your smile, holding out his arm for you to take. He felt his heart skip as you accepted, taking his arm and together you walked onto the dance floor as the music began to play. Steve felt so happy, like he was dancing on air.

After that night, you and Steve had spent the rest of the summer together. Steve dreamed of you, he awoke each morning eager to see you. When he was with you he felt overjoyed, but he was also tongue-tied and could not tell you how he felt. Steve couldn’t imagine living without you, it was almost like an obsession had begun to grow within him.

The summer had come to an end and it was your time to leave. You and Steve decided to dance all night at the royal ball, love burned so bright that the whole ballroom could practically feel it. You smiled up at the handsome prince but inside you could feel a tug of sadness. You couldn’t bear to leave him, he had given you so much love over the summer but he had never declared it. You hoped he would finally tell you how he felt tonight.

As the music came to a stop, so did you and Steve. You both shared a long glance, waiting, searching, hoping.

Steve suddenly turned to the guests with a giant grin. “Arrange the wedding!”

The noise around you suddenly stopped, everyone was speechless.

“Wait!” You called out.

“What is it?” Steve pleaded, “You’re all I ever wanted. You’re beautiful!”

“Thank you,” You replied, “But… What else?” You knew deep down in your soul that Steve loved you as much as you loved him, so surely he wanted you more than your beauty? You just needed him to say it.

Steve stared blankly, he really had no clue. “What else?”

Your heart dropped. “Is beauty all that matters to you?” You asked, your father and his mother stood dumbfounded, they were so close.

Steve swallowed hard. “I… Er… What else is there?” He asked.

Your heart sank even further. You had been wrong, Steve did not love you at all. You turned and swiftly exited the ballroom, taking the hopes of two kingdoms with you.

You and Steve barely said goodbye as you left. He watched as you departed with shock and bitter disappointment.

Steve sits as Lord Rogers paces the royal sitting room. “What else is there?” He mockingly spoke. “She says, ‘Is beauty all that matters?’ and you say, “What else is there?!”

“It was dumb, I know.” Steve replies, hanging his head as he tries to think.

The weather outside was not helping his mood. It seemed to match the sadness he felt deep within.

“You should write a book.” Rogers continued. “How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less.” Rogers leans forward, flicking Steve’s forehead. “Think!” He urged. “You must see something other than Y/n-Odette’s beauty!”

“Of course I do, Rogers!” Steve begins to stumble as he thinks. “She’s… Well, you know. And then, well… Er…”

Lord Rogers rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I just don’t know how to say it!” Steve finally blurted out, and then he added. “I know, I’ll prove it to her. I’ll prove my love!” He nods to himself before muttering. “I’ll make her mine. I’ll make her see how I see her.” Steve stands, swiftly exiting the room as he begins to form a plan.

Meanwhile inside the carriage, your father shakes his head sadly. “I just don’t understand.” He looks at you, watching as you continue to look out and into the forest. “What else did you want him to say?”

You bite your bottom lip softly before letting it go as you turn to look at your father. “I just need to know that he loves me.”

Suddenly the horses whined and bucked, causing the carriage to stop. “What on Earth–?” King William, your father turned the door handle and stepped out. Beyond the horses, a large man was blocking their path. Although the man stood in the shadows, King William recognised him instantly. He had watched him grow from a small child but he could feel something was off and with one look at you, he orders. “Stay inside, Y/n-Odette.” He closes the door and takes a step forward, his guards moved to encircle him, spears drawn.

“Steve, what are you doing out here so late? How did you get here?” The King had never felt this kind of fear before, it was as though something had possessed the man before him. He looks around, brows furrowed as he sees no way for Steve to have gotten there without them noticing. “You must be cold, my boy. Why don’t you hop inside our carriage and we can take you back to your mother. I am sure she’s worried.”

Steve chuckles and the sound causes The King to stumble, it sounded so dark, so chilling. “I can’t have you do that, sir.”

The Kind and Steve’s mother had always wanted the two of you together but at this moment, he didn’t know this man. At this moment, King William would do anything to protect you. He could feel strong amounts of power radiating off of Steve, darkness he had never felt before. King William steps back towards the carriage, his guards moving forward slightly, protecting him and you.

Steve’s eyes sweep over them all, causing a shiver to run through their bodies. “Why are you scared?” Steve takes a small step forward, his foot sinking into the soil beneath him.

King William clears his throat, straightening his back. “We are not scared. Why don’t you come back with us? Then we can take you back in the morning.” His head whips around as he hears you scream, his eyes widen as he sees Steve’s best friend pulling you from the carriage.

Thumps can be heard and The King whips back around only for his eyes to widen as Steve stands toe-to-toe with him and his guards lay dead around them. “I said, I can’t have you do that, sir. I want Y/n-Odette and as long as she has you, she will never fully devote herself to me.” Steve towers over the short King, making him seem as tiny as an ant. “I may have screwed up this evening but she will be mine.”

“S–Ste–” King William is cut off by Steve’s hand gripping his throat, his eyes bulged and skin begins to turn purple.

Everything had turned black after you were pulled from the carriage, unaware of what had happened with your father. You woke up surrounded by water but you felt weird causing you to look down, shock and fear shoot through you as you see white. You were no longer in your body, instead of a human body it had been replaced with that of a swans.

“Y/n–Odette.” Hope ran through you as you heard Steve’s voice, your eyes darting around until they landed on his large figure. “You’re finally awake, my little swan.” That hope that had built inside of you had come crashing down once you realised that he wasn’t there to save you. Your body moves, gliding across the water, distancing yourself away from the man you thought you had known. “Don’t let the small spell make you sad, Y/n–Odette. It doesn’t last the whole day, as soon as the moon comes up…”

Steve didn’t need to finish, creeping across the lake the moonlight touched your wing. Water began to swirl from below, your swan-like self rose upward in a shimmering golden-grey light, transforming you into your human form.

Steve grins. “That’s how it will be until you are mine, Little Swan.” He said as you landed gently on the shore. “You have to be on the lake, of course and when the moonlight touches your wings, you’re human!”

You turned away from him, betrayal blossoming within you. Your thoughts went to your father. “My father… Is he okay?”

“Define okay…”

You spun around, eyes wide and full of tears. “What did you do to him?!”

Steve merely shrugs. “I may have killed him.”

You gasp, reeling back as the tears begin to slowly fall. “Y–you…”

Steve moves closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek but you move your head. His brows furrow as anger seeps in but he shakes it off, allowing you this. “Killed him, yes. I had to, otherwise I couldn’t have you, Y/n-Odette.”

“You can’t have me now, Steve! You killed my father! You kidnapped me and trapped me at this lake forever!” Your eyes meet his, so many emotions swirl around behind them. “I could’ve gotten over you only liking me for my looks but this… This is too much. You’re not the man I thought you were. The man I grew to love…”

“Now, don’t speak like that, Y/n-Odette. Sooner or later you are going to cave into being mine. You’ll learn to love this version of me.” He grabs your chin, ignoring how you fight against his hold and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t fight it, little swan. You’ll be mine soon.” And with those words, he leaves. Leaving you alone and broken, your body hits the ground as sobs break free, your pain filling the forest around you.

Days, weeks, maybe even months go by without you giving into Steve and his advances. No matter what he did, you remained silent and distant. You began to enjoy your swan form, using it as an excuse to escape your human problems.

On the other hand, Steve was slowly losing it. He began taking his anger out on everyone else, those who loved and admired him, now feared him. His mother thought that it had something to do with your disappearance and your father’s death. Only if she knew the truth would she hate the man her son became.

Steve grew impatient, he didn’t understand why you weren’t his already. Why did you have to be so stubborn? Did you not see how much he loved you? “What else do I have to do, Buck? She’s supposed to be mine.” He put his head in his hands. His best friend watched him from the doorway, arms crossed.

“I don’t think you’re being rough enough. You’re being too sweet on her, Steve. A woman like her needs rough handling, someone to dominate her.” Bucky pushes off of the wall and moves closer to his friend. “You need to stop playing Mr. Nice guy.”

Steve nods, standing and patting Buck’s shoulder with a smile. “You’re right, Buck.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk. “I guess it’s time to go get my girl.” And with that, he walks out of the castle and into the woods.

Steve reached his destination the moment moonlight shone on the lake, watching golden-grey swirls appear as your form changes from swan to human. He grins, sauntering straight towards you. “Little swan. As beautiful as ever.” He shakes off the strange feeling that appears when you brush off his words, already ignoring and moving away from him. Too bad Steve had already reached you before you could distance yourself further.

He pulls you closer to him, gripping your chin roughly as he forces you to look him in the eyes. “I don’t appreciate this attitude, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine and I am going to make you see that whether you like it or not.” You shiver under his hold as he growls. Steve pulls you over to a tree and pushes you up against it, your dress bunching up against your hips as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your pulse quickens and your eyes widen, you push against his shoulders with poor attempts. Deep down you wanted this, you just didn’t like the person he became. “N–no, no. Steve. You… You can’t do this. Please.”

Steve caresses your cheek, smiling almost too sweetly at you. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine. We’re meant to be together.” His hand moves, gripping your chin with his thumb. His eyes fall to your lips as your mouth opens slightly. “I’m going to make you my wife, my Queen, little swan. Then you will bear my children.”

You shake your head, ignoring how you throb at the thought. “I’m done waiting for you to give in, Y/n-Odette. You need to understand that you’re already mine.” Steve presses against you, feeling you throb against his clothed cock. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, little swan.” A small whine slips through your lips. “Just give in. Let me make you feel good.” You gasp as he pulls you into a kiss, all thoughts leaving your mind as his lips begin to move, pulling you deeper into his hold. Steve nips your bottom lip, sliding his tongue inside as a moan escapes your mouth.

You barely notice as he frees himself, sliding his hardened cock between your lips. Your grip tightens on his shoulders, pulling away slightly. “S–Steve…”

His hand moves, caressing your cheek. “Shh, little swan. It’s okay.” Your mouth drops and eyes roll back as he slides into you, filling you to the brim with one thrust. “That’s my good girl, feel so good for me.” Steve grunts, pressing you into the tree harder while he holds back from roughly fucking into you. You go limp in his arms, never having felt this amount of pleasure before, not even the times when you had touched yourself.

“O–oh… Steve…”

Steve smirked to himself, “Is that all you needed, little swan? My cock? If I had known all I had to do was fuck you to get you like this, I would’ve done it along time ago.” You want to argue back, huff and disagree with him but he was right, you couldn’t think when he was inside of you. His grip on you tightens before he suddenly begins to fuck you, slowly pulling out only to roughly thrust back in. Your moans trapped in your throat and your back arches, pressing close to his.

Steve grunts, his eyes locked on your face. He felt smug that the pleasure you were feeling was caused by him. He changes the angle of his hips, his cock sliding deeper inside of you, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. Your hands grip Steve’s back, nails clawing into any skin you can find.

Steve’s hand moves up, his thumb swiping the necklace that lay around your neck. His hips not stopping as he stares deep into your eyes. “The moment I gave you this necklace, Y/n-Odette was the moment you became mine, there was no stopping this fate. You’re stuck with me, little swan.”

Your walls clench around him as he claims you. His thrusts pick up as he begins to pound into you, chasing his release. He grips your hips and neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. The moment his lips meet yours, it feels like your mind has become cloudy, unable to think about anything other than the feeling of him inside you. You didn’t know how someone’s lips had the power to wipe your mind clean of any thoughts.

Steve shoves a hand between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and immediately pressing on it. Rolling it between his fingers before stroking it while his cock continues to hit deep inside. “Cum for me, little swan. Let me feel you milk my cock.” Steve groans, pressing closer to you as he whispers against your lips.

Your head falls back against the tree, feeling your cunt pulse and throb as Steve continues to rub your swollen clit and thrust against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Go on, little swan. Cum for me.” Your eyes cross as Steve buries himself deep inside of you, your toes curl as you squeeze him. You feel your orgasm ripple through you, your moans echoing throughout the forest.

“My good little swan.” He growls out as he fucks into you before his cum shoots out, painting your walls a pretty white. As Steve softens inside of you, he pulls back to look at your face and grins almost evilly, the back of his hand stroking your cheek. “You’re going to make such a pretty Queen, little swan.”

You would learn that you may think you know someone but everyone has a little bit of darkness lurking within and you just happened to be the target.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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brunchable · 6 months ago

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LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Part I

Part Two | Part Three Words: 8.5K Themes: Very Angsty?, Break-up, Violence, Kidnapped, Super Human transformation, Action, Attempted Assault, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Summary: Set in 1942. Steve allowed being a Super Soldier inflate his ego. After a breaking up with Steve, your world shatters then you're abducted and subjected to a mysterious experiment. A/N: I was washing the dishes when this came to me. I thought Y/N was really BADASS at the end. Baby girl is bad bitch, she on Fire. Paint the town red can be her song. A reblog would be noice <3

The sun was setting over Brooklyn, casting long shadows across the streets. You and Steve walked side by side, your fingers intertwined, the cool breeze of the evening wrapping around you both. Steve’s small hand fit perfectly in yours, a comforting reminder of the years you had spent together, supporting each other through thick and thin.

It wasn’t easy being with him, especially with how the world treated him—just a scrawny, sickly guy who never knew when to give up.

Your parents disapproved and your friends laughed at you for choosing Steve over James. You always tell Steve, ‘If they laugh, then fuck'em all.’

He has a good heart and you loved him for it— for his determination, his kindness, and his unwavering sense of right and wrong.

As you walked, a heavy silence hung between you. The reason was clear: James or known as Bucky Barnes, was shipping out to fight in the war. The three of you had been inseparable, a trio bound by shared history and deep affection. But now, Bucky was leaving, and the thought of losing him weighed heavily on your heart.

“Well, I guess this is it. I’m heading out tomorrow.” Bucky finally stopped and turned to you both, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You nodded, trying to keep the sadness from showing on your face. “It’s not going to be the same without you, Bucky.”

He gave a small chuckle, though it lacked its usual warmth. “You’ll manage. You’ve got this punk to keep you busy.” He playfully nudged Steve, who smiled weakly in return.

“I should be going with you, Bucky,” Steve said, his voice tight with emotion.

“You’re gonna be fine, Steve. You’ve got that heart of yours, and that’s stronger than any muscle.” Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. He turned to you, his gaze filled with concern.

“And you, Y/N… take care of him, will ya? Someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will, Bucky. I promise.”

Bucky pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a moment longer than necessary. When he finally let go, he clasped hands with Steve, their handshake lingering as they both tried to hold onto the moment.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” Bucky said, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve gave a small laugh, but it was strained. “No promises.”

With one last look at both of you, Bucky nodded, then turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the distance.

As he left, the weight of his absence settled over you like a thick fog. The world suddenly felt colder, emptier without Bucky’s presence.

“He’ll be okay,” Steve said quietly, more to himself than to you, as you both stood there in silence, watching Bucky disappear.You leaned into Steve, seeking comfort in his presence.

“I hope so. I don’t know what we’ll do if something happens to him.” Steve squeezed your hand, trying to be reassuring.

“He’s strong. He’ll make it back.” But deep down, both of you knew there were no guarantees in war.

× × × ×

A few weeks later, the day finally came when Steve received his enlistment notice. You were there when he got the news, a mixture of pride and worry swirling in your chest. He had finally done it—he was going to fight in the war, just like Bucky. But that also meant he was leaving you behind, just like Bucky.

“I can’t believe it,” Steve said, staring at the paper in his hands, his voice filled with excitement. “I’m actually going.”

You smiled, though it was bittersweet. “I knew you would. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met, Steve. They’d be crazy not to let you in.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.” Steve looked up at you, his expression softening.

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you, Steve. You’re going to do great things. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve’s eyes were filled with emotion as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll come back to you. I swear.”

But as you held him, a deep sadness settled over you. First Bucky, now Steve—everyone you cared about was leaving, going off to fight a war that seemed so far removed from your life in Brooklyn. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, a fear that things would never be the same again.

× × × ×

The day Steve came back from the super-soldier program, everything changed. You had waited anxiously for news, praying that everything would go smoothly, that he would come back to you safe and sound. When you finally saw him again, it was nothing like you imagined.

The first time you laid eyes on the new Steve Rogers was outside a government building, where a crowd had gathered. You pushed your way through, eager to see him after weeks of silence. When you finally spotted him, your breath caught in your throat.There he was—tall, muscular, and impossibly different. The boy you once knew was gone, replaced by a man who exuded power and confidence. It was Steve, and yet it wasn’t.

“Steve!” you called out, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd. You tried to make your way toward him, but the throng of people pushed you back, jostling you aside as they clamored for a closer look at the hero.

Steve seemed oblivious to the crowd around him, focused entirely on the conversation he was having with a woman by his side—Peggy Carter. You had heard about her, of course, but seeing them together was different. There was an ease between them that made your heart sink.

“Steve!” you called out again, louder this time, but he didn’t hear you—or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. You watched as Peggy leaned in closer, her hand resting on his arm in a way that felt far too familiar.

Then, as if in slow motion, you saw Steve get into a car with her, leaving you standing alone in the crowd, feeling completely invisible.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to see you, to run to you, to hold you in his arms like he always did. But instead, he was driving away with someone else, and you were left behind, forgotten.

× × × ×

A few weeks pass by with not one word from Steve, the last time you heard his voice was on the radio, giving a speech that would motivate the soldiers out there or in the newspaper. You were sitting by the window, reading a book while your cat rested peacefully on your lap. Then, there was a knock at the door. You kept your ears attentive, though your eyes were focused somewhere else.

You heard your mother answer it, and you listened as she exchanged a few words with whoever was at the door. A moment later, she called out to you, “Y/N, there’s a soldier here to see you.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion as you walked toward the door. A soldier? Why would—?

As you reached the doorway, your breath caught in your throat. There, standing in the threshold, was Steve Rogers, but not the Steve you remembered. He was taller, broader, wearing an army uniform that fit him perfectly, and his entire presence seemed… different. The frail, sickly boy you had known was gone, replaced by a man you barely recognized.

“Do you know this gentleman, dear?” Your mother, still standing by the door, looked between you and Steve, clearly confused.

“It’s me, Mrs. L/N, Steve Rogers.” Steve gave her a warm smile, his voice deeper than you remembered.

Your mother blinked, looking Steve up and down before recognition finally dawned on her face. “Steve? My goodness, look at you! I didn’t even recognize you. You look… Well, you look like a different person altogether!”

“Yes, he… he certainly does.” You forced a smile, still trying to process the fact that he's standing there.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Your mother gave you a strange look as she walked past, heading back into the house.

The heck was that about?

As she disappeared into the other room, you turned your attention back to Steve, your heart pounding. You looked up at him, which was something you weren't used to. He's so. . .tall.

“Steve… is that really you?”

“It’s me, Y/N,” Steve replied, his voice deeper than you remembered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Things have been… crazy in the last couple of days.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Steve smiled, a hint of the old Steve you knew shining through. “I’m more than okay. I want to make it up to you. How about I take you out to dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”

Your heart lifted at the thought. Maybe this was your chance to reconnect, to get back to the way things were.

“I’d like that,” you said softly. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Listen, I need to go back but I'll see you at our favorite spot? Six-thirty?” He reaches for your hands and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll be there,” you chuckled at his romantic gesture.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He winks at you, and you couldn’t help but giggle. This new playful side of him, got you hooked like a fish.

× × × ×

“Good evening, Ma'am. Do you have a reservation for tonight?” the hostess asked politely, her hands poised over the guest book.

“Yes. Steve Rogers?”

The hostess scanned the list, her finger trailing down the page. “Table 11. Right this way.” She smiled warmly and gestured for you to follow.

Your heart quickened as you anticipated seeing Steve, but when you reached the table, your smile faltered. The chair opposite you was empty. The hostess pulled it out for you, and with a quiet sigh, you sat down, your eyes flickering anxiously toward the door.

“Can I offer you any refreshments?”

“Not at the moment.”

“No problem. Let us know if you need anything.” With a nod, she left you alone, leaving the weight of the evening to settle over you.

Minutes turned into an hour, and you found yourself glancing at the door every time it opened, only to be met with disappointment as someone other than Steve entered. As the hours passed, your hope began to wane, replaced by a growing knot of irritation in your chest.

But as the hours ticked by, your hope began to fade. The restaurant was closing, and still, there was no sign of him. The waitstaff was cleaning up around you, giving you sympathetic looks as you sat there alone, trying to hold back the tears.

The restaurant was winding down, the waitstaff quietly cleaning up around you. Their sympathetic looks were hard to ignore as you sat alone, struggling to keep your emotions in check. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes stinging as you blinked back tears.

“Miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re closing,” a waiter said gently, approaching you with a cautious smile.

You nodded, trying to muster some semblance of dignity, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be on my way.” You snuffled and smiled as you got up from your seat. Getting up alone was hard, the weight of embarrassment was weighing you down.

Just as you turned to leave, the door swung open. Steve rushed in, his face flushed and hair slightly disheveled. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, hurrying over to you. “I got caught up in something important. I didn’t mean to be late.”

The staff paused in their work, their eyes shifting between you and Steve. There stood the dashing soldier, looking every bit the hero in his crisp uniform, yet here he was, unmistakably late. As their gazes turned to you in your lavender shirtwaist dress, it was clear they understood why you had waited so long.

“It’s eleven.” Your voice seethed after glancing at your watch, noticing a red smudge on his collar, “They’re closed. Let’s talk outside.”

Without waiting for a response, you cleared your throat and walked out, brushing past him intentionally to make your anger known. Steve followed closely behind, sensing the storm brewing between you two. This was the first time he had been this late, and you were struggling to decide whether to forgive him easily or let him feel the full weight of your emotions.

“Steve, where were you? I waited for hours,” you said, trying to keep your voice whole, this feeling like you were losing him is foreign and hard to keep internally.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I got caught up with something… important.” Steve barely met your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“More important than us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, the pain of being pushed aside finally surfacing.

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not like that. You know I’m trying to do the right thing. There’s so much going on, and I—”

“Forgot about me?” You didn’t want to be this person, but the loneliness and the fear of losing him had been building up for too long. Without Bucky around, you had no one to turn to, no one to share this burden with. “I understand that you have responsibilities now, but you made a promise.”

He finally looked at you, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not leaving you behind. I just. . . things are different.”

“I can see that,” you said, you look at him from head to toe. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same Steve who used to hold you and make you feel like the most important person in the world. This was someone else, someone who had outgrown you, “You’ve changed, and I’m not talking about your appearance.”

“I’m still me, Y/N. But now, I have responsibilities, people who rely on me.” Steve looked down, guilt flashing in his eyes.

“And what about me?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice. “Do I even matter anymore, or was I just someone to keep you company when you had nothing else?”

“Don’t say that,” Steve replied quickly out of spite, “Maybe… maybe you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. For who I was.”

His words cut deep, and you recoiled as if he had struck you. “You think I was with you out of pity? Is that what you believe?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, his voice strained.

“How could you think that?” you said, your voice rising with a mix of anger and hurt. “I was with you because I love you, Steve. Not because I felt sorry for you. I believed in you, and I loved you for who you were, not because of what you couldn’t do or how you appear.”

“I’m just not sure where I fit in this new world, and I’m not sure where you fit in it either. I'm trying to wo—”

Your chest began feeling tight because of his words. You had always known that things would change after the serum, but you never expected him to question your feelings like this.

“So, what are you saying? That there’s no place for me in your life anymore? That I don’t belong because you’ve become someone else?” You emphasized his structure with your hand.

Steve shook his head, looking frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just… I feel like we’re both hanging on to something that’s already gone.”

“Already gone? Nothing was gone, at least not on my part.” Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep your voice from cracking, “Is there someone else? Is that why you’re looking for a way out?”

“No! Of course not. It's because for once in myself I feel like I'm worth something,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

The finality of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had fought so hard to hold onto him, to keep the love between you alive, but now it felt like you were losing that battle. You had wanted him to stay tonight, to make things right, but now you weren’t sure if there was anything left to salvage.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned away, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.

“You know what? Just… go, Steve. Do whatever it is you have to do. I will not think less of myself just because you do not know how to love me anymore.” you said, your voice heavy with resignation.

“Y/N…” Steve’s voice was soft, filled with regret, but you couldn’t face him. Not now.

“Please, Steve. Just go.”

What you really wanted to say was, “Please stay. Show me that I still matter to you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You were too afraid that he wouldn’t fight for you, and the thought of that was too painful to bear.

Steve hesitated, his eyes wandering as if trying to find the right words. He just stood there, saying nothing.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you walked closer to him, his face softening as you reached up and gently adjusted his collar. Your fingers brushed against the fabric, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Then, in the calmest voice you could muster, you said, “Lemon helps with removing lipstick stains.”

Steve’s eyes widened in panic, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the spot where your fingers had been.

“Y/N, I seriously don't know how this got here—” he began and it almost sounded genuine, his voice filled with panic as he tried to close the distance between you.

But you took a step back, your eyes now red and brimming with tears. You raised a hand to stop him, your voice breaking as you sobbed deeply, “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

Steve’s heart shattered at the sight of you sobbing, your pain a statement in every tear that fell. His instinct was to reach out, to hold you, but your outstretched hand and the heartbreak in your eyes kept him rooted to the spot.

If Bucky were here… The thought pierced his mind like a knife, and suddenly, jealousy coursed through him, hot and irrational. Bucky. The one person who had always managed to make you smile, even when he couldn’t. The one who could draw out your laughter with just a word, a look. The one who, despite being his best friend, had always been a shadow in the corner of Steve’s mind when it came to you.

Was it easier with Bucky? Did you love Bucky more than him? Had you ever thought of Bucky in ways that Steve couldn’t bear to imagine?

“You should’ve just chosen Bucky.” Steve muttered and with one last, tortured look at you, Steve turned away, his steps. He walked away, leaving you standing there, your tears flowing freely now. He didn’t look back, too afraid of what he might see if he did.

Your breath caught in your throat, the shock of his words slicing through the already unbearable pain. You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process the bitterness in his voice, the finality of his statement.

The Steve you had known was gone. You didn’t know if looking for him would be worth it because you knew how it would feel—it would feel like reaching for smoke.

Heartbroken and feeling more isolated than ever, you decided to walk home alone. Your cries echoes the street, water gushing out of your eyes like it’s being released by a dam. The echo of your footsteps on the empty streets was a haunting reminder of just how alone you felt. Steve had left, and with him, it felt like a part of your heart had been ripped away.

Steve’s words replayed in your mind, cutting deeper with every repetition. The idea that he thought you might have been with him out of pity or that you're better off with Bucky was a knife to your heart, twisting with every breath.

The streets of Brooklyn were eerily quiet, the usual bustle replaced by an unsettling stillness. The lamps cast long, distorted shadows across the pavement, and every sound seemed amplified in the silence. You quickened your pace, trying to escape the weight of your thoughts, but it was no use.

As you turned down a narrow street, the familiar surroundings suddenly felt foreign and oppressive. You hugged your coat tighter around you, your mind racing with a mixture of fear and despair. Ahead, the road forked into two directions—one leading to your home, the other into an even darker, narrower alley. You turned towards home, your heart pounding as you tried to shake the feeling of being watched.

Then, without warning, you heard the screech of tires on the asphalt. Before you could react, a van skidded to a stop in front of you, its headlights blinding in the dark street. The doors flew open, and three men in dark clothing jumped out, their faces obscured by shadows.

Panic surged through you as you spun on your heel, trying to run, but it was too late. They were on you in an instant, their grips like iron as they dragged you towards the van.

“No! Let me go! Help! Please someone!” you screamed, thrashing against their hold, but your voice was swallowed by the night, and the empty streets offered no help. Your heart raced, the fear consuming you as you struggled with the best you can.

A cloth was suddenly pressed against your mouth and nose, and a sickly sweet smell filled your senses. You tried to hold your breath, to fight against the drowsiness that quickly overtook you, but it was no use. The world around you started to blur, your vision darkening as your body went limp.

The last thing you heard before everything went black was the sound of the van doors slamming shut and the dull roar of the engine as it sped away into the night.

× × × ×

DAY ONE

When you woke, the world was a haze of pain and confusion. The first thing you noticed was the cold metal pressing against your back, you were naked. Your wrists and ankles were strapped to a metal table, the restraints biting into your skin. Panic clawed at your chest as you struggled against the bonds, but they held firm, keeping you pinned down.

Your vision was blurry, your head pounding from whatever they had used to knock you out. Slowly, the room around you came into focus—bare, clinical, with walls of stark white. You weren’t in Brooklyn anymore. You weren’t anywhere you recognized.

You heard voices, cold and detached, speaking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out the words, but the tone sent chills down your spine. Footsteps approached, and a shadow loomed over you.

A man’s face came into view, his expression devoid of any warmth or compassion. “She’s awake. Prepare the serum.”

The word “serum” sent a jolt of fear through you, and you renewed your struggles, trying to break free. But the restraints didn’t budge, and the man paid no attention to your terror or the muffled screams that bounced off the walls.

You felt a sharp prick in your arm as they injected something into your veins. Immediately, a searing pain shot through your body, like liquid fire burning through every nerve. You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choked off by the agony that consumed you.

The pain was unbearable and you could feel your body convulsing on the table, your muscles seizing as the serum spread through you. It felt like your entire being was being torn apart, every cell screaming in protest. You began to foam in the mouth, the scene your captors watched was like out of an exorcist movie.

And then… nothing. The world around you went dark, and you slipped into unconsciousness, the pain finally giving way to merciful oblivion.

“Sir, should we stop?” One of them said, “Her vital signs are getting dangerously out of limits, she might go into cardiac arrest.”

“No, keep going until that last vial is finished. I want to see what’ll happen. Then we repeat until there’s signs of success.”

DAY TWO

You awoke to the sensation of your body being dragged, rough hands gripping your arms as they pulled you across the cold, unforgiving floor. Your vision was clouded, your mind struggling to grasp onto reality as the fog of unconsciousness began to lift. Every inch of you ached, a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to seep into your very bones.

As you were hoisted back onto the metal table, the cold surface pressed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The restraints clamped down on your wrists and ankles once more, their cruel bite familiar by now. The room around you was still the same—sterile, white, and devoid of any humanity.

You tried to speak, but your throat was on dry and on fire, your voice barely a whisper. "Please... stop..."

Your plea fell on deaf ears. The figures in lab coats moved around you with the same clinical detachment as before, their faces obscured by surgical masks. One of them approached, holding a clipboard, his eyes scanning the data as if you were nothing more than a lab rat.

"Her vitals stabilized overnight," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "But... the readings are inconsistent. I'm not sure if the serum is taking effect."

The man from before—the one who had ordered the serum—stepped into view, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He leaned over you, his eyes scrutinizing your face with a mix of curiosity and impatience.

"Let's see if she can handle more," he said, his voice flat, giving nothing away.

Panic surged through you, your heart racing as you remembered the excruciating pain from the day before. You tried to struggle, but your body was too weak, too drained from the torment they had already inflicted on you.

The man nodded to one of his colleagues, who approached with another syringe, the liquid inside glowing with an ominous, sickly hue. You watched in horror as the needle approached your arm, every muscle in your body tensing with dread.

"No... no, please..." you begged, your voice breaking.

But they didn't stop. The needle pierced your skin once again, and the liquid fire coursed through your veins, more intense than before. The pain was immediate, searing through you like a thousand white-hot knives. You thrashed against the restraints, your screams tearing through the air, but there was no escape from the agony.

The world around you blurred as the pain became all-consuming, every nerve in your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding erratically, your vision darkening at the edges. It was too much, too overwhelming.

But this time, there was no merciful oblivion waiting for you. The pain persisted, dragging you down into a nightmare from which there was no escape. Your body convulsed violently, your muscles seizing as the serum wreaked havoc within you.

The voices around you became distant, muffled by the roaring in your ears. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but their tone was one of cold observation, detached from the suffering they were causing.

"Her body's reacting... but the patterns aren't consistent. It’s hard to tell if it’s working or if she’s just... rejecting it."

"Increase the dosage," the man ordered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched your writhing form. "We need to push her further. If there's any sign of success, we'll see it soon enough."

"But sir," one of the lab technicians hesitated, his voice uncertain. "If we push too hard, she might not survive the next round. The readings are already erratic—she could go into shock or worse."

"That’s a risk I’m willing to take," the man replied coldly. "We won’t know until we push her limits."

Your heart sank at his words. There was no end to this. They were going to keep pushing, keep testing, until either the serum took hold of your body or gave out entirely.

As you lay there, barely conscious, the pain began to ebb slightly, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you tried to cling to consciousness.

"Prepare the next dose," the man ordered, his voice devoid of any empathy.

This time, your heart sank even deeper. The nightmare wasn’t just beginning—it was accelerating, and there was no way out. You were trapped in this hell, at the mercy of those who saw you as nothing more than an experiment, a means to an end. And whether or not the serum was taking effect, you knew that whatever happened next would push you to your breaking point—and beyond.

DAY EIGHTY

When you woke, the familiar chill of the metal table greeted you. The room was as stark and clinical as ever, but something had changed within you. The pain was still there, a constant, gnawing presence, but it no longer controlled you. You had become accustomed to it, numb to its bite. It was just another part of your existence now.

Eighty days.

Eighty days of torment, of relentless experimentation, of feeling your body and mind pushed to their breaking points and beyond. You had lost track of time somewhere around the third week, the days and nights blending into a seamless blur of agony and darkness. But even as the days passed, you remained conscious, aware—alive.

The door to the room opened, and you didn’t bother to turn your head. You knew who it was. The man with the cold eyes approached, his footsteps echoing on the hard floor. He had become a constant in your world, his presence as regular as the pain he inflicted.

“You’re still with us, I see,” he remarked, his tone as detached as ever. He moved closer, inspecting the restraints that held you down. “Most impressive.”

You didn’t respond. You hadn’t spoken in days—there was nothing left to say. Every word, every plea had fallen on deaf ears. You had learned long ago that silence was your only companion in this hell.

“Her vitals are stronger,” a technician noted, glancing at the monitors that tracked your every heartbeat. “We’ve noticed a significant increase in her strength and resilience. The serum seems to be taking effect.”

The man nodded, though there was no satisfaction in his expression. “Eighty days,” he mused, as if talking to himself. “Eighty days, and you’re still here. Stronger, faster… more than we ever anticipated.”

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But are you in control, I wonder? Or has the serum taken control of you?”

His words hung in the air, but you didn’t flinch. The battle for control was something you fought every day, every hour. The serum coursing through your veins had changed you in ways you couldn’t fully understand yet, but you were still you—or so you told yourself.

“Let’s see if we can push it further,” he said, signaling to the technician.

The restraints were released, and you felt the cold metal slide away from your wrists and ankles. You didn’t move, not yet. You had learned to conserve your strength, to hold back until the moment was right.

“Sit up,” he commanded.

You obeyed, slowly raising yourself into a seated position. Your movements were deliberate, controlled. You could feel the power coursing through your body, every muscle coiled with potential energy, but you kept it in check.

The man stepped back, giving you space, watching you closely. “Stand.”

You slid off the table, your bare feet touching the cold floor. You stood, swaying slightly as the blood rushed to your head. But you remained upright, your gaze locked on the man who had been your tormentor for nearly three months.

“Walk,” he ordered, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

You took a step forward, then another. Your legs were shaky at first, but you quickly found your balance. Each movement felt strange, foreign, as if you were inhabiting a body that wasn’t entirely your own. But you continued, step after step, until you were standing directly in front of him.

“Good,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Very good.”

He reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch was light, almost gentle, but you could sense the underlying threat in it. “Now, let’s see just how far we can take this.”

You didn’t react as he motioned for the guards to step forward, their weapons at the ready. You knew what was coming next. This was another test, another attempt to push you beyond your limits.

The guards surrounded you, their faces expressionless, their grips tight on their weapons. The man gave a slight nod, and they moved as one, striking out at you with calculated precision.

But this time, you were ready. The serum had done its work. You were faster, stronger, and as their blows came toward you, you reacted with a speed that surprised even you. You deflected the first strike with ease, the second with even greater efficiency. Your movements were fluid, instinctual, a dance of power and precision.

Within moments, the guards were on the ground, groaning in pain, their weapons scattered across the floor. You stood over them, breathing heavily, your heart pounding with adrenaline. The power surging through you was intoxicating, overwhelming, but you were in control. For now.

The man watched you with a hint of something in his eyes—respect, maybe, or perhaps something more sinister.

“Yes,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

You stood there, the blood rushing in your ears, your body alive with the thrill of what you had just done. But beneath it all, there was a gnawing sense of unease. You had changed, become something different, something more. But at what cost?

As the guards were dragged away, the man turned to you once more. “Eighty days,” he repeated, a slight smile playing on his lips. “And now, the real work begins.”

You didn’t respond. You had nothing left to say. The battle was far from over, and as you looked into the cold, calculating eyes of your captor, you knew that whatever came next would push you even further into the darkness.

But you were ready. Because after eighty days of hell, you had learned one thing—you would survive, no matter what.

DAY 100

The pain had reached a point where it was almost surreal, as if your mind had detached itself from your body to protect what was left of your sanity. You lay strapped to the cold metal table, your skin clammy, your breaths shallow. The serum that had been forced into your veins was taking its final toll. Your vision blurred, the edges of your world darkening as you teetered on the brink of consciousness.

The man with the cold eyes stood over you, his expression hard as he watched the monitors tracking your vitals. He had been relentless, pushing the experiments further each day, determined to force the serum to work. But today, something was different. The lines on the monitor were becoming erratic, your heart rate spiking and dipping unpredictably.

"Her vitals are deteriorating rapidly," a technician warned, his voice tinged with anxiety. "She's not stabilizing. We should stop."

The man clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "We’re too close. Increase the dosage."

"But sir, she won't survive—"

"Do it!" he barked, cutting off the protest.The technician hesitated for a moment before injecting you with another dose of the glowing serum. The liquid fire surged through your veins, and the world around you exploded into pain once again. But this time, it was different—this time, your body couldn’t take it.

You convulsed violently on the table, the restraints digging into your skin as your body fought a losing battle. Your vision darkened further, the room around you fading into an indistinct blur. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, a desperate rhythm that couldn’t keep pace with the assault on your system.

And then, it stopped. The world around you went silent. your life flashed before your eyes, beginning with the warmth of your childhood—the comforting embrace of your mother as she read you stories at night, the sound of her laughter filling your small apartment in Brooklyn. You remembered the day you met Steve, the shy, awkward boy who had tripped over his own feet trying to impress you, and Bucky’s teasing grin as he nudged Steve forward, encouraging him to finally ask you out. There were memories of long summer days spent in the park, the three of you inseparable, sharing ice cream and dreams of the future.

But then, the memories shifted. The warmth drained away as you saw Steve walking away from you, his back turned, his footsteps echoing in the empty space between you. . .

“Dispose of the body.”

× × × ×

D - 100

When you woke up this time, you weren’t in the cold, sterile room. Instead, you were lying in an alley, discarded like trash. The hard, wet pavement was unforgiving against your body, and the chill in the air bit through your clothes. You don’t know what day or even month it was.

Your once neat and tidy outfit was now torn and filthy, covered in grime and dirt from the alleyway. The lavender shirtwaist dress you had worn so proudly earlier was now barely recognizable, stained with mud and who knows what else.

Your hair, once carefully styled, was now a tangled mess, strands sticking to your face, damp with sweat and the moisture of the night. You could feel the grit and dirt under your nails, the remnants of your struggle to free yourself from whatever hellish place you had been held. Your hands were scraped and raw, the skin broken and bleeding in places.

Your face felt gritty, as if you’d been dragged through the dirt. As you lifted a hand to touch your cheek, you could feel the rough texture of dried blood and dirt clinging to your skin. Your body aches all over, every muscle sore from the strain of whatever had been done to you. The cold dusk air bit into your exposed skin, making you shiver as you struggled to push yourself up from the ground.

The street was dimly lit, the sound of distant traffic the only sign of life around you. The once-familiar streets of Brooklyn now felt alien and hostile, and in your current state, you felt like a ghost haunting the city you once knew.

You stood there, shivering and alone, the reality of your situation sank in. Whoever had taken you had done something to you—something that had changed you. But they had deemed you a failure, or perhaps an afterthought, and simply left you to fend for yourself.

You felt stronger, different, but the overwhelming sense of abandonment weighed heavily on your heart. You looked down at your hands, trembling as you tried to comprehend what had happened to you.

Just as you began to move, your disheveled appearance caught the attention of a group of men lurking in the shadows. They saw an easy target—someone weak, vulnerable, alone. Their eyes locked onto you, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you like a predator sizing up its prey. But they had no idea what they were about to face.

“Hey, look what we got here,” one of them called out, his voice dripping with malice. He stepped forward, a smirk spreading across his face as he took in your bedraggled state. “You look like you’ve had a rough night, sweetheart.”

Another man snickered, his eyes narrowing as he moved to block your path. “Where you headed in such a hurry? We could keep you company.”

The men began to circle you, cutting off any chance of escape. Their leers and mocking laughter echoed off the walls of the alley, making your skin crawl. You backed away, your heart racing, but they kept closing in, their intent all too clear.

One of them reached out to grab your arm, but before his hand could make contact, something snapped inside you. The fear that had gripped you earlier was replaced by a cold, detached resolve.

With a sudden burst of strength, you lashed out, your fist connecting with the man’s jaw. The impact sent him reeling backward, blood spurting from his mouth. He stumbled, crashing into a pile of trash cans with a loud clatter, his smug expression replaced by shock.

The other men hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized you were not the helpless victim they had assumed. But their hesitation quickly turned to anger, and they surged forward, determined to make you pay for their friend’s humiliation.

But they didn’t stand a chance.

With a newfound power surging through your veins, you moved like a force of nature. You dodged their clumsy attempts to grab you, your movements fluid and precise. Every strike you landed sent them staggering back, their groans of pain filling the air.

One man lunged at you, his hands reaching for your throat, but you ducked under his grasp, spinning on your heel to deliver a powerful kick to his midsection. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

Another man tried to grab you from behind, but you twisted out of his grip, your elbow slamming into his ribs with a sickening crack. He howled in pain, clutching his side as he fell to his knees.

The last man standing looked at you with wide, fearful eyes, his confidence shattered. “What the hell are you?” he stammered, backing away.

You stared at him, feeling that cold detachment settle over you once more. “Someone you should never have messed with,” you replied, your voice calm and steady.

Without another word, you stepped forward and struck him with a swift, powerful punch. He didn’t have time to react before he was sent crashing to the ground, unconscious.

As you stood there, surrounded by the groaning forms of the men who had tried to attack you, the reality of what you had just done began to sink in. You had taken them down with ease, without even thinking. The fear that had gripped you earlier was gone, replaced by something else—something darker, more dangerous.

You looked down at your hands, trembling slightly as you tried to process what had just happened. They were bruised and dirty, knuckles bloodied from the fight, but they were steady, powerful. You weren’t the same person who had been taken from the streets and subjected to whatever hellish experiment had been done to you.

You were stronger now, and that strength came with a cold, hard edge that scared you as much as it empowered you.

But there was no time to dwell on it. You needed to get out of there, to find somewhere safe where you could figure out what had been done to you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you began to walk away from the alley, leaving the men behind.

As you disappeared into the early morning light, the realization that you were truly alone settled in your heart. You had been discarded, left to fend for yourself. But you would survive this. You would become stronger, faster, more powerful than anyone who had ever underestimated you.

And if Steve had truly discarded you as well, if he had moved on and left you behind, then you would prove that you didn’t need him—or anyone else.

By the time the sun began to rise, you were no longer the same person who had waited at that restaurant, hoping for a fresh start. The flame that once burned brightly for Steve had turned to cold, hardened embers.

You vowed never to let anyone discard you again.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you trudged through the streets, your skin a canvas of bruises and cuts, each one a testament to the brutality you had endured. The world around you seemed surreal, almost detached, as if you were walking through a twisted dream.

People noticed you—how could they not? Their eyes lingered a fraction too long before they darted away, some filled with pity, others with fear or disgust. Concerned mothers pulled their children closer, shielding them from the sight of you as if you were a monster, something to be feared and avoided. Whispers followed you like a shadow, just out of earshot but thick with judgment, dripping with the cruelty of strangers who saw only the surface.

No one approached you. No one dared. The stares didn’t bother you. In fact, you welcomed them. Let them look, let them fear. You would not be pitied. You would not be scorned. If the world wanted to see you as a monster—then so be it.

As you walked, a familiar part of town began to come into view. You knew these streets well, every crack in the sidewalk, every faded storefront. It had been a place of comfort, of familiarity—but now it felt foreign, like you were an intruder in a place that no longer belonged to you.

Then, through the blur of people, you saw her. Your mother. She stood on the corner, frantically handing out pieces of paper with your picture on them, her eyes scanning every face that passed by, desperate and searching

When her gaze landed on you, her expression shifted—first to shock, then to fear, relief, and heartbreak that hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart clenched, a pang of pity slicing through the wall you’d built around yourself. You had steeled yourself against so much, but seeing her there, so fragile, so broken, was almost too much to bear.

“M-Mom?” Your voice cracked, a betrayal of the emotions you fought so hard to suppress. For a split second, you felt like yourself again, but then that cold voice in your head reminded you: no tears, no weakness.

She rushed toward you, disbelief widening her eyes, her hand trembling as she covered her mouth in shock.

“Y/N? Is that you?” she gasped, her voice trembling.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to speak as she reached out to you. Her hands, trembling, cupped your face, her touch so familiar yet so foreign. Tears welled in her eyes as she took in your appearance.

“What… what happened to you?” she whispered, her voice barely holding together.

The tears in her eyes reflected the pain you had tried so hard to bury. But you couldn’t let it out—not now. Not after everything.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say, though the words felt hollow. You pulled away from her touch, the warmth of it almost too painful to bear.

“No, you’re not,” she insisted, her voice shaking as she looked you up and down, trying to understand what had happened to her daughter. “Who did this to you? Where have you been?”

You shook your head, the emotions churning inside you too chaotic to form into coherent thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your voice colder than you intended. “I just need to go home.”

Your mother’s brow furrowed, as she looked at you with a mother’s instinctive fear. “No, we need to take you to the hospital. You need to be checked out, Y/N. You’re hurt—”

“No!” you snapped, the force of your voice startling both of you, desperation in your tone, “No hospitals, no police report.”

“Y/N, please. You need help. We have to tell someone—”

Help? No one helped.

“I said no!” you repeated, your voice trembling with an intensity that silenced her. “They won’t help. They’ll just ask questions, questions I can’t answer. They won’t understand, Mom. No one will.”

“But, Y/N—”

“I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need the police. I just need to go home. Please, Mom… just take me home.” Your breath came faster, panic rising in your chest as the thought of being in a hospital, of facing the police and their endless probing, became unbearable.

Her face crumpled with worry, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as if trying to shield you from whatever had hurt you.

Slowly, she nodded, though her worry was still palpable. “Okay. Okay, we’ll go home. But promise me… promise me that if you need help, you’ll let me know. Just… don’t shut me out.”

You nodded, but the motion felt distant, like it didn’t quite belong to you. “I promise,” you whispered, though even as the words left your mouth, they felt empty, a hollow reassurance to ease her fears.

× × × ×

The rain poured down like icy needles, but you barely felt it through your black raincoat. Across the street, through the glowing window, Steve and Peggy danced together, they danced together like a well-rehearsed melody, a song you had once known by heart but now could only hear as a distant echo. Their connection was a knife, twisting in the hollowed-out space where your heart used to be.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you stood there, seething. Every drop of rain that pelted against your coat felt like a reminder of the cold, hard truth—you had been replaced. Forgotten. Left to rot in the streets while he found comfort in another’s arms.

Your anger simmered, bubbling up from the depths of your chest. You had been willing to fight for him, to stand by his side no matter what. But what had that loyalty gotten you? Abandonment. Betrayal? And now, as you watched them dance, that anger solidified into something colder, harder.

“Y/L/N.” a deep commanding voice called your name.

Two officials stood in the shadows, their presence barely registering as you finally tore your gaze away from the window. They weren’t there for the party—they were there for you. Without a word, you pushed past them and joined their side.

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holylulusworld · 2 months ago

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Torn in two (2)

Summary: It should’ve been the happiest day of your life.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader (platonic for now)

Warnings: heavy angst, Steve being the worst, cheating, lies, deception, sadness, arranged marriage, unrequited love, hurt & comfort, love-struck Bucky, a hint of possessive Bucky, virgin reader (mentioned)

Catch up here: Torn in two

“We should call someone and tell them that you’re still alive,” Bucky murmurs. He’s seated on the floor, next to the old armchair you are sitting in. “Do you want me to make the call?”

“No one cares for me,” you reply, too tired and emotionally drained to face Steve, your father, or anyone else right now. “Why would I want them to know that I’m still alive? They’d only try to dictate my life again.”

“Y/N, we can’t sit here forever. If you do not return, your father and Steve will go rampant, believing one of our enemies kidnapped or hurt you.”

You snort. “None of our enemies could hurt me deeper than my father and Steve did. Steve lied to me all this time. He knew about my feelings and used them against me. He’s worse than any enemy.”

“Doll, I know you’re hurting, but we cannot stay here for much longer. I swore loyalty to Steve’s family,” Bucky scoots closer to you to touch your hand. “How about we get you something else to wear first? I’ll bring you to my apartment; you can get cleaned up, and I’ll call your father in the meantime.”

You shake your head. All you want to do is curl into a ball and stay here forever. There’s nothing outside these walls waiting for you. No loving husband. No future. No supporting father. Nothing but hurting and betrayal.

Bucky sighs. He was more patient with you than any other man in your life. You feel sorry for him. He came all the way to find you for his friend.

“I’m sorry he sent you to find me,” you sniff. “Steve has this influence on people. He wraps them around his finger, and you don’t even realize he fucked you over.”

“Language, young lady,” Bucky imitates your father’s voice. “A lady doesn’t cuss.”

“I cuss as much as I want to, Barnes.” You stick your tongue out before bursting into laughter, followed by a crying fit.

Bucky gets up from the floor. He suddenly grabs you and sits back down to hold you in his lap. You’re too shocked to stop him from wrapping you in a warm hug.

“Everything is going to be alright, doll. Don’t worry. We can fix this,” he murmurs into your neck while running one warm hand up and down your back.

“How?” You sniffle. “How can we fix this mess? I—I don’t want to stay married to a man despising and lying to me. I don’t want to have sex with him and give him an heir. Likewise, I’d rather stay a virgin than let him touch me. Not only that, but I’d vomit in his face if he tried to get his hands on me.”

Bucky stiffens at your admission. He knew your father was a strict man and held you in a golden cage, protecting you even from your friends.

“Doll, I won’t let him touch you.” His hold on you turns possessive. You can feel him tense as you bury your face in Bucky’s neck. “He cannot touch you! Not after he ruined your trust in him.”

“What can I do now? I was so confident when you arrived, but I have nothing if I refuse to stay married to Steve. I’m fairly sure my father will not allow me to live the life I want.”

“What life do you want?” Bucky is the first man to ask you about your wishes. “It’s only the two of us. You can tell me, Y/N. I won’t judge you.”

“How about a cabin in the middle of nowhere? It’s nestled in the woods, and there’s a nice lake,” you dreamily run your hand over Bucky’s back as you go lax in his arms. ”I know it’s not a big dream, but I find it romantic to live there. I’d be unbothered by Steve, my father, and their business.”

“It’s a nice dream,” he nuzzles your neck and inhales your scent deeply. Bucky never got the chance to get closer to you. Only when Steve and your father were around. “You could go skinny-dipping.”

You giggle against him. “Don’t make fun of me, Bucky.”

“I wouldn’t dare make fun of you, baby. That’s the last thing I want to do is to make fun of you or hurt you. I’d never hurt you. I swear.” Bucky sounds honest, but you trusted Steve too, and everything he told you were lies. “You need some sleep. Let me take you home.”

“I don’t want to go to Steve,” you start to cry again. “Please don’t bring me home to him. He’ll hurt me! I can’t…I don’t want to.”

“Doll, Y/N,” Bucky coos. “I meant my home. No one is going to hurt you at my home. We should hurry, though. It won’t take them long to find us here.”

“Still nothing?” Steve huffs as his men return, empty-handed. “What am I paying you for?” Your husband is furious. He throws a tantrum like the man child he is. Deep down inside, he knows it’s his fault you ran, though he’d never admit his mistake.

“Rogers, calm down,” your father grunts. “Y/N is not going to run away from this marriage. Maybe she got a little scared, just like her mother. She will return soon and behave like the good girl I raised her to be.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. If it were up to him, he’d call things off and marry Peggy.

Bucky’s home looks different than you expected. It’s spartan but cozy in its own way. He has warm blankets and soft pillows. The most unexpected thing you discover lies on his couch. A white cat, with blue eyes, matching Bucky’s.

“That’s Alpine, my cat,” he nervously says. “Don’t worry. Alpine is a nice cat. Her presence is calming in a hectic life. Go ahead. You can pet her.”

“Hi,” you sniffle as you sit down. “You’re a pretty girl, huh?” You coo as the cat jumps onto your lap. Alpine meows before sniffing at your wedding dress.

“I’ll get you fresh clothes, and you can take a shower. Maybe I can buy you some time by leading Steve and his men on the wrong track. Relax. You’re safe here, with me.”

You nod and start patting Alpine. He’s right. Her presence is calming.

“I’ll take a shower,” you murmur. “Maybe tomorrow, I will see things clearer.”

Watching Bucky pace around the living room, you wonder if he’ll keep his word. For now, all you can do is trust Bucky.

Tags in reblog.

#Torn in two (2)#steve rogers #bucky barnes #mafia au #steve rogers x wife!reader #bucky barnes x reader #x reader #tw: virgin reader

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booksandabeer · 11 months ago

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Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

#catws10 #stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stucky rec list #steve x bucky #stucky fic recs #steve x bucky fic rec #stevebucky fic rec #stevebucky #my recs #*drops this and runs aways* this rec list nearly gave me an aneurysm. you're welcome!

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endless-ineffabilities · 11 months ago

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The Bolter (part three)

Steve Rogers x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : The reader returns to New York for the first time after Steve left, reuniting with Bucky. We see a little more of what the reader and Steve went through while on the run.

themes/warnings : pining, tension, unrequited love, two sad saps (reader and Bucky) trying to get over trauma and heartache :(, language, brief mention of injuries

word count : <2k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

2024, three months after Steve's departure

You just finished your second mission since the final battle.

Since Tony. Since Nat.

Since... him.

Only three months, or rather, three long months. You don't know why Sam was worried that you are apparently overworking yourself.

He keeps calling you up, checking in from time to time, making sure that you are allowing yourself to relax. Have a little break. Stay with them in New York for a while. Maybe even have a couple of sessions with the therapist Bucky is seeing.

He must have done a darn good job at convincing you, or maybe you were just exhausted, because you arrive back in New York soon enough.

And Bucky comes knocking on your door not long after.

Your eyes meet, both of you blocking your doorway. Not a single word needs to be said - the understanding you two share runs much deeper.

Two kindred abandoned souls and whatnot.

You step aside to let him through and close the door behind him. His hair is trimmed shorter now, and with his getup, he could pass as just another civilian. It takes another beat of silence before he finally asks, "So how are you?"

You snort at how ridiculous his question sounds. He knows. "How are you?" you counter, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"Touché," he says, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing it atop your kitchen island. He knows his way around. He's been here before, on the many nights you both shared drinks with Natasha, Sam and... him.

Damn it. You curse internally. It's okay, his name was Steve. He's not the fucking boogeyman.

He gives you a quick once over, immediately noticing that you're putting a lot of your weight on your left leg.

"I fell out a window," you sigh.

"Fuck's sake," he grimaces, shaking his head.

"Hey, we can't all be super soldiers, Buck. My muscles are just a bit softer than yours."

He presses on, still concerned, "Checked in for your physical yet?"

"Booked it for tomorrow," you respond. "But it shouldn't be too bad."

You feel his eyes continue to scan you, but in a non-invasive way. He's checking for more injuries, more signs of wear and tear. He's a lot like Steve, but his gaze is different, less commanding.

More broken.

"Anything new?" you have to ask to distract yourself, and he picks up on it right away. About Steve. He hasn't shown up like he said he would. You had been dreading it - the possibility of seeing a much older Steve, after he got to live out his life in this timeline.

He promised he would try and find you. A version of him, at least. White-haired and wrinkled and weary, but still your Steve. He said you would see him again, in what would be his future and your present, and say a real goodbye. Maybe even tell you all about his life and his girl.

You thought you blocked all that out, but sadly it did not slip your mind. You remember. And you didn't want to be there when it happens.

But nothing did, and you didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

"Nothing," Bucky shakes his head. "But Dr. Banner is keeping track on whether there are any anomalies in the timeline, specifically in where Steve went back. Everything seems to be normal."

He's fine, and he finally got his normal. And you should let go.

As if he can read your mind, Bucky says, "It's hard to let go, isn't it?"

He's struggling. Of course he is. Bucky also has an old skin to shed, and bones to bury. You never encountered the Winter Soldier back in the day, but you heard of him.

Once you got to know Bucky, you never needed to know anything else. This is who he really is, and he's a good person. He's your friend.

And Steve trusted him. He believed in him. That would have been enough in your eyes, if anything.

"What makes you think I haven't let go yet?" you smile weakly.

He exhales, smiling back. Because, he seems to say, I know you.

Stepping forward, he opts for putting a hand on your shoulder first, unsure. He squeezes gently once, but then changes his mind and pulls you in for a hug at the last second, careful not to add any stress on your leg.

It takes the breath out of you, with his vibranium arm wrapped around your midtorso.

"I'm glad you're back," he mumbles against your hair.

Bucky knows that only you would really understand. The others, maybe they loved Steve too. Admired him. But it was different with the two of you.

Clint can move on with his family. Sam has his new responsibilties. Thor is out of world. Wanda has her own burden to bear. The world will go on as it always has.

But not for us, you think. As he held you tight, you decide that you will help Bucky through it. You will make sure that he gets the peace that he deserves and he is able to let go of Steve. Even if doesn't happen for you, this would be enough.

You offer him a drink after a moment, and he accepts without hesitation.

This is how it starts. This is how the two of you begin to move on.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2017, ten months after the Avengers' Civil War

"Where were you?" Steve's voice came from somewhere in the room. He was seated in the small living room of your shared cabin, blinds drawn shut, almost out of sight.

You twisted around, and let your duffel bag fall to the floor. Squeezing the bridge of your nose, you let out a shaky breath. "What the hell, Steve, you nearly scared me."

You rummaged through the cupboard, looking for your stashed whiskey. "Nearly," you repeated in jest, when you heard him making his way to you.

You got a much better look at him then. His hair had darkened due to its length, and his beard was thicker. You were going to need several swigs of hard alcohol to resist jumping his bones.

"I was worried," he said, and his tone was gentler. It made you feel guilty, and you didn't know why. "I came back from Wakanda and you were gone."

"I wasn't gone, Steve. Sam needed help getting away with something, you know how it is. We don't exactly have a set schedule on when and where to go, given our fugitive status."

"I know, I know," he said right away, frustrated. What's wrong with him? "But you could have called, left a note - "

"A note could have been intercepted."

" - anything. Just to let me know how you are. You could have been taken in for all I know - "

"You really think I would let them take me in?"

He threw a stern glare your way, propping a hand on his hip. Based on his stance, you thought of how it looked like Captain America was about to give you a good scolding.

But you beat him to it. You were just too tired, and your arm was killing you. "Look, Steve, I had to help Sam and you were still in Wakanda checking up on Bucky. I didn't think it was a big deal. I thought I would be back here by the time you - "

"What's wrong with your arm?" he interrupted you, his practiced eyes easily noticing the damage, and reached for your forearm. "Take your jacket off."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head before you can catch yourself. "What?" you squeaked, but you knew just what he meant.

Steve was on full Captain mode, always looking out for anyone he feels responsible for. That's all it was. You had to remind your hopeful self that it was nothing more.

His hands were waiting by the neckline of your jacket, asking for permission. Ever so polite, even when his mood is sour.

You can ignore a lot of things, compartmentalize your emotions. You're used to it all, not getting too attached to anyone or anything as a result of your chosen life.

But you couldn't ignore the burning feeling his fingertips left behind as they grazed your skin. When he guided you to the couch so he can take a better look at the bruises on your arm, you were seated close. The closest you've ever been to each other, but he didn't look fazed at all.

Of course not. This doesn't mean the same to him, as it does to me.

You watched him the entire time, his long eyelashes almost grazing his cheek as he looked down at his work. His brows furrowed in concentration. Once in a while, he mumbled something that sounded like, never should've happened, or gotta watch out next time.

It didn't take long for him to fix you up nicely, your arm disinfected and wrapped in gauze.

After you thanked him, you stood from the seat, ready to compartmentalize that moment too. Because that was not the time to go falling for anyone, especially not someone who was just too good for you.

But he grabbed your hand before you walked away, looking up at you as he stayed seated.

"Steve?" There it was again, that burning. That warmth. If he didn't notice the goosebumps on your skin before, you were sure he saw them then.

"I - " he hesitated, before finally deciding on, "I'm glad you're okay."

You tilted your head, smiling. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, y'know."

His worried and serious expression drops and he smiled, eyes all crinkled.

And that was one sight you won't ever be able to ignore.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

A week later, Natasha dropped by. Sporting a brand new white-blonde hairdo that suited her just as fine as her signature red.

You teased her about it, saying how she must have been waiting for an opportunity like this to have an excuse to drastically switch out her hairstyle.

The two of you sat on the bench on the patio while Steve chopped up wood in the distance, looking like a right ol' lumberjack.

He looked too damn good, and it annoyed you. He wasn't making any of it easy.

"You could switch your hair out too, you know. It helps in going incognito," she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair.

You swatted her hand away playfully, grinning, "Oh, but my face is too memorable so it might not even work."

"Oh really?" she smiled, with that mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, Steve certainly seems to think so."

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"He looks at you like you're his sun or something," she stretched out, amused by the obvious rush of blood to your face.

You shook your head profusely, because of how wrong you thought her assumptions were. "He looks at me because there's no one else around here to look at. Not for at least fifty miles or even more."

"Honey, please. It's my job to know these things."

"Oh, is it now?"

"Mhmm," she patted your knee, tilting her head in Steve's direction without turning to look at him. "I'm willing to bet Tony's LA mansion that he's looking at you right now."

"No, he's not - "

"Then prove me wrong."

But you turned, and you couldn't prove her wrong.

Your eyes met Steve's and when he realized your attention was on him, he simply smiled.

Like you were his sun, Natasha had said. But she was a bit off the mark.

You were never Steve's sun, but he was yours.

Read part four here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx

It will be a bit more of jumping back and forth through time, before we see everyone back together (even Steve? 🤷🏻‍♀️)

It's the start of a potential Bucky x reader. I gotta be careful here because I might just flip and want the reader to be with him instead.. who could ever look over Bucky???? He's going to make it hard for us that's for sure.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #the avengers #mcu #chris evans #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the bolter

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navybrat817 · 2 years ago

Note

Oh, this smirk!

The Rejects

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, mentioned Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mentioned Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Bucky address the elephant in the room.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Flirting, friends with benefits (not Bucky x Reader), light angst, tension, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

A/N: This was meant to be something else completely, but the muse did what she wanted. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You jealous?”

Looking up from the Scrabble board, you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at Bucky’s smug expression. “Jealous of what exactly?” you asked, downing the rest of your drink and not flinching at the sting.

“Come on. You know what,” he answered, crossing his arms as he leaned on the table. “Or do I need to say it?”

“Please, enlighten me,” you said as you placed a square on the board. You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you’d play his game. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”

“Steve and Natasha sleeping together,” he answered.

Big boy actually said it.

You allowed the eyeroll to happen when he smirked. They left the two of you alone almost an hour ago and it was a feat that you went that long without acknowledging it. “No, I’m not. Why would I be?”

Bucky pointed at you with his beer bottle. “Because you used to hook up with Steve.”

“And you used to sleep with Natasha,” you said without skipping a beat. That wiped the smirk off his face. “So sorry you got stuck playing Scrabble with a reject like me.”

You didn’t have super soldier hearing the way he did, but you heard his teeth grind when he selected his next piece. “You’re not a reject,” he said above a whisper.

Neither of you spoke as you kept playing. After a bad mission months ago, you slept with Steve. It wasn’t a big deal. Adrenaline was high and he gave you the release you needed. Expecting it to be a one time thing, it surprised you when he shoved you against a wall days later. You fell into a “friends with benefits” arrangement with him after that.

While he treated you well enough, you both maintained that it wouldn’t go beyond sex. From what Natasha told you, she had a similar arrangement with Bucky. It worked for your needs.

You were content.

Until you noticed how Steve and Natasha’s gazes lingered on each other after briefings. How easily they fell in step beside each other despite their sometimes opposing views. She trusted the Captain, which wasn’t easy for the former spy. Steve respected her and that said something. You accepted that they needed each other and quietly removed yourself from the equation.

Bucky did the same.

“You know what? I am jealous,” you admitted, the game forgotten at that point. “But not because they’re sleeping together.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched, like he didn’t quite believe you. “Then why are you?”

Glancing down the hall before you looked back at Bucky, you sighed. “As happy as I am for them, I'm a little sad for myself. Because they found something in each other that no one has found with me,” you told him, narrowing your eyes when his slightly widened. “What?” you asked. If the former Winter Soldier made fun of you or laughed, you wouldn’t hesitate to smack him because you weren’t afraid of him.

“Nothing,” he said, the index finger on his vibranium hand tapping the table in a fast motion. “I just understand how you feel.”

Shame flooded you for thinking he’d poke fun at your vulnerability. He wasn’t a bad guy. Far from it. In fact, Steve never got jealous or insecure when you talked to Bucky and Natasha hadn’t either. They encouraged the two of you to become friends. Looking back, it was easy to think they supported the friendship to phase you two out. But you knew that wasn’t the case.

They weren’t cruel.

What would’ve happened if I slept with Bucky instead of Steve? Is it wrong that I’ve thought about that more than once?

“So, why are a couple of 'rejects' like us who are not jealous of our former lovers sitting here playing board games instead of going out and looking for ‘the one’?” you teased.

“Because I was too chicken to ask you out tonight, even after I got the okay from Steve.”

What?

You blinked once. Twice. “Your best friend, who has been inside me, is cool with you asking me out?”

He winced at your choice of words. “Well, when you put it like that. Yeah?” he replied, before he straightened up, confidence filling those pretty blue eyes of his. “I don’t give a fuck that you slept with Steve. I’m asking you out.”

Your smile turned a little warmer and you reigned your claws in. “You want to take me on a date?” you asked, your heart swelling when he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "If this is just to fill a void, I don't think it's a good idea."

If Bucky needed that, you understood. But could you do that again? No. Not with him.

"I'm asking because I want to, doll. You're a badass and I like your company," he said. That was a big deal since Bucky only seemed to like a handful of people. "And if you’ll let me, I’ll ruin you.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know,” you said in a singsong voice, stretching and purposely sticking your chest out to draw his gaze to your breasts. “We’ve both done the whole friends with benefits thing before and-”

He reached across the table to take your hand. “You wouldn’t be my friend. You’d be my girl.”

Your stomach did a funny flip, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The word “yes” was on the tip of your tongue. Because you had a right to be happy. All of you did.

I slept with Steve. Natasha slept with Bucky. Steve is sleeping with Natasha. The next logical step is sleeping with Bucky, right? Who knew math could be fun?

“What would Nat think?” you asked. Though you were certain she had no feelings for Bucky beyond friendship, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable just because you were fine with her and Steve.

Your phone buzzed a half a minute later with a text from the former Black Widow herself.

“Go for it. He'll be good to you and you deserve it.”

Bucky chuckled when you looked back down the hall. “Steve and his fucking hearing,” you muttered before you threw your head back. “Stop listening to our conversation! That’s rude!”

“Sorry!” Steve yelled back.

You smiled at Bucky, the atmosphere lighter even with the tension. “Okay. You beat me in Scrabble, you pick where we go for our first date. I win, I get to pick and no complaints.”

His eyes lit up as your heart raced. “Deal,” he said, the smirk slowly appearing on his face again. “But the loser has to play the next game naked.”

“Game on, Barnes.”

So, there we go. 😂 I hope you lovelies liked it! More of these two with A Couple of Cuties. Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #vonalyn

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buckys-little-belle · 6 months ago

Note

i have a fluffy drabble idea: steve or bucky (because they have super strength) using a throw blanket to sawddle wrap you to secure you to their chest. and then they carry you around while they do their tasks. and then you're lulled to sleep by their heartbeat and gentle voice explaining their paperwork to you

-🐝

Swaddle Snuggle

Steve Rogers x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used) / Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks of reader feeling "down"/sad and/or stressed, snuggles, use of "Dada"

Notes - I made these headcannons because I feel like they'd both be so different when it comes to swaddle snuggles, and I couldn't pick just one of them to write about! This ask is also so old, like over a year old, and I miss my bee anon, and I'm sorry I didn't get this out sooner! I hope y'all like it!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!!!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

Steve

Steve loves when you're snuggly and clingy. He always looks forward to the days where you can't be away from him for more than a second.

He used to just sit with you in his lap on the couch when you needed a close contact day, he'd do whatever work he could from his laptop, and he'd pick you up and carry you around the house when he had to get up.

But that wasn't very practical. He often had things during the day that required two hands, and you hated being put down.

So he adjusted, he found a light weight big blanket and created a swaddle sling. You sat with your legs around his waist like usual, chest to chest, with your hands trapped between the two of you. The blanket worked mainly as a bottom support keeping you in a sitting position against his chest, but it also went over your back, giving you extra warmth and allowing Steve to bend over when needed.

It made everything easier, you could stay snuggled against him and he could do computer work, or the laundry, or make lunch. He had two hands, and you had all the cuddles you needed.

If it was a cold day he would often lay a fuzzy blanket over your back when he sat down. He'd be sat in his office chair, you on his lap, and a fuzzy blanket keeping you warm from the open window's slight breeze.

To be fair he was a super solider ... So he ran warmer than most, and his body heat kept you quite warm.

Nap time was nice because instead of being on the second floor in your playroom, far away from you Dada, you could take a nap wherever he was.

The comfort of his hand rubbing slow circles against your back comforting you. And the constant pitter patter of his keyboard keys often lulled you to sleep.

Bucky

Bucky didn't wait for you to have needy days. He sometimes needed to have you in his arms all day to remind him that you were there, with him and needing him.

So he'd found a way to wrap you up, the same as Steve. You plastered to his chest as he went about his day.

He didn't work at a desk as often as Steve, so he often had you with him as he went on a walk around the property, finding cool stones and sticks to add to your collection. You'd be stuck close to him as he meal prepped for the week, him saying the recipes and directions out loud as soft instrumental music played.

That often lulled you to sleep. The soft swaying that happened as he walked around the kitchen, and his deep voice mixed with the soft music. It was easy to fall asleep that way.

Sometimes he'd have you sit in the wrap facing the other way, your back to his chest.

He'd have you that way as he worked on the cars, your hands able to hold onto wrenches or random objects to keep you engaged. Because he would pick random days to have you stuck to him you often were more hyper aware. Talking and babbling about things, grabbing for things with your hands.

But he still needed you so close, so you sat facing outwards. He liked the way he could snuggle you close at all times, but still hear your infectious laugh, and how he could make sure you didn't leave his sight, but you could also still play go fish with him.

Even though they were two very different ways to be swaddled you looked forward to both. Excited to be Steve's little Snuggle Bear or Bucky's little Sidekick.

#sfw #stucky #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers age regression #steve rogers x little reader #steve rogers x little!reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes age regression #bucky barnes x little!reader #anon #buckys little belle #age regression #age regression fic #little!reader #bucky x little!reader

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rogersideup · 7 months ago

Note

Helloooo! May I request a Steve Roger’s fluff! ✨Where reader has anxiety and one of the ways Steve calms her down is by skin contact. Maybe he takes off his shirt at random moments and he holds her and he lets her touch his body to feel the skin. He gives her massages once in a while. Maybe even lay naked together in bed to feel their bodies and heartbeat!! ❤️✨✨

‧₊˚౨ৎ˚Skin to Skin˚౨ৎ˚₊‧

It might not be exactly what you asked for, but I wrote this last night while having a lot of anxiety and it helped me regulate so I hope you love it regardless <3

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,076

Summary: Sometimes even the hardest days have the best endings 🧸

Warnings: descriptions of symptoms of anxiety

The hallway of your apartment building was dead silent.

Usually you'd hear the faint chatter of people behind their front doors, locking and unlocking, heels clicking, neighborly hellos.

But right now, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Or maybe it was spinning way too fast and you had no control over it. Really, you didn't know which of those two scenarios you'd prefer, but regardless it all felt like too much.

There was no chatter to distract you from the sound of your own heart pounding so hard you could hear the blood pooling in your ears, no foot steps from friendly faces to urge you to look up from your own feet, no small talk to distract you from how Steve's thumb was apologetically rubbing the back of your hand, the one that was holding his tightly.

You trailed behind him, blinking back your tears and urging them not to fall until you got inside the comfort of your shared four walls. You stopped because he stopped, allowed your emotional barriers to start slipping at the sound of his keys unlocking the front door, then the first one fell down your cheek as his hand on your lower back ushered you from the hallway right into your living room.

Shaky, choppy breaths were all you could manage as Steve put his keys in the catch-all next to the front door. There was only a split second opportunity to see the exhaustion on his face before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug. He cradled your head into his chest, and gently swayed you from side to side.

The smell of your boyfriend's cologne, and the ribbed cotton of his sweater beneath your hands was the last blow to your emotional barrier, that's all it took for you to start sobbing.

From the moment you woke up this morning, you were just having a bad day. It started with a nightmare, which ultimately led you to waking up 5 minutes before your alarm, not allowing much time for Steve to comfort you before you had to get ready for work.

The nightmare almost felt like a bad omen, and it sent your anxiety spiraling for the rest of the day.

The big project meeting you worked so hard on was cancelled, you forgot your lunch on the counter at home, and it unexpectedly started raining while you were wearing a white silk blouse. By the time you got home you were soaking wet in a see through shirt and hungry. You didn't have a single moment to stop and regain your composure, because you promised Steve you'd attend the Avengers monthly team building event with him.

When he saw the state you arrived home in, he urged you to stay home and promised it would be fine. But you knew deep down that he really wanted you there, so you put on a brave face and tried to salvage as much of your hair and makeup as you could, but the rain completely ruined your plans.

Instead of your hair being down and perfectly curled as planned, you had to settle for a sleek, slicked bun and a natural makeup look. This led to your outfit not looking how you wanted it, which also led to you feeling completely unhappy with how you looked and how you felt about yourself.

With hunger levels, annoyance, and sadness being very high, your self confidence, energy, and persistence was very very low.

You weren't saying that you didn't feel great about yourself, but Steve could see it in your posture, and he could tell by the way you went completely quiet. He assured you multiple times that you looked absolutely beautiful, and he wasn't lying. You always looked beautiful.

That at least earned him a small grin and a gentle kiss, but then he threw you in a room full of superheroes and their respective friends and family, and that immediately made everything worse.

Already feeling quite self conscious and insecure while being surrounded by people who were the smartest, strongest, and greatest in their respective ways had you feeling like you couldn't even take a breath.

Even on their worst days they could save the world, meanwhile you were on the brink of tears because Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch looked so pretty.

In a very bold self preservation attempt, you pushed it all down. Steve deserved some happy and chipper arm candy, and you already committed to being that for him so you tried your best to play the role.

To him, this was family and to you, this was a room full of people you didn't even deserve to be in the presence of. Although most of them became friends of yours and accustomed to your habits, they knew enough about you to know that something was wrong, but not enough to know that they shouldn't push your buttons about it.

It left you as the target of all of the jokes that evening. Nearly every conversation had a minimum of one passing comment. Steve tried his hardest to shut down as many as he could, even changing the topic a few times, but there were some things he couldn't save you from.

You appreciated him trying, but wondered if he would've rather you stayed home instead of damper his evening with your self pity. That also spiraled into some nasty thoughts, the meanest part of your brain convincing you that he didn't really love you, and you weren't good enough to even be around him.

Thats when you quietly slipped away to the bathroom just for a few moments to take some deep breaths and dry the tears pooling in your lash line, your mascara wasn't about to meet its fate twice in one day.

You knew that anxiety was most of the issue, you knew that you just needed some reassurance and a warm meal, maybe a hug and a warm shower. The thought of all of the snacks out on a grazing table for everyone to enjoy made you pull yourself together, you were hopeful that some food in your empty stomach could really help.

And it did, for about 10 minutes before Tony made yet another back handed, rude remark about you. So sly that Steve didn't even catch it, and when you grabbed his hand to try and comfort yourself, Tony threw you a wink.

Thats when you knew there was no turning your mood around. Your white flag waved high and proud as you spent the remainder of the night making yourself small, trying not to drag any attention to yourself or take any fun away from Steve.

He caught onto the way you let go of his hand and got up to grab some water, then when you came back you sat further from him. Shoving yourself into the corner of the couch leaving plenty of space between your bodies. Knowing damn well you were struggling, he could assume your brain tricked you into thinking he didn't love you, because really, he knew you that well.

Making his way over to you, he wasn't shy to put his arm around your shoulders and use his hand to draw little shapes in the top of your arm before giving you a very quick kiss to your temple.

You didn't speak for the rest of the night unless it was to say goodbye to everyone on your way out, or politely thank Tony for hosting. You didn't even speak to Steve on the way home, and he understood. Rather than trying to force you to speak, he gave you the metaphorical space you needed to keep your composure as he kept one hand on the wheel and one hand on your thigh.

That led to this moment, soaking his sweater in your tears. You felt pathetic, but it was also the first time all day you felt safe.

"I'm so sorry, honey." Steve spoke gently. He hated seeing you so upset, swearing he could physically feel his heart breaking in his chest. "I love you so much."

You sucked in a shaky breath before mustering up the only sentence you could speak. "Tony is an asshole."

"I know, Baby." Steve agreed, petting your hair and trying his best to comfort you. "They were all laying in on you way too hard. You didn't deserve it."

"They were just joking," You tried justifying between sniffles and cries. "but I couldn't handle it tonight."

"But they could've stopped after the first time I told them. I know they can be too much sometimes. Just because they're just joking doesn't mean it wasn't hurting your feelings." He justified. "You've had a long day, I think you need some love and food and sleep."

"I just want to stay here." You cried, holding on just a bit tighter. Finding your nervous system starting to regulate itself for the first time all day, you weren't feeling ready to let go of your boyfriend just yet.

Steve kissed the crown of your head multiple times, "We can stay here as long as you want."

He held you for a little while longer until your sobs turned into slow tears and you finally felt brave enough to let go of him. After getting you comfortable and warm on the couch, he walked away for a bit to make you your favorite dinner.

When he came back with two bowls and handed you one, it was the first time all day he saw your real, genuine smile. Though you were still crying, he was confident that he could turn your mood around.

Your favorite show playing on the TV, snuggles, a fluffy blanket across your lap, and eating dinner on the couch was a good start. When you were done eating, Steve took the bowl back from you and wandered off to clean the kitchen and do the dishes.

When he came back he hovered over you with a sad pout when he noticed how quick your breathing was and how he could practically see your pulse from the artery in the base of your neck. Approaching slowly, he gently placed his index and middle finger to your neck and left them there for a second before his pout deepened.

"Baby" He sympathized. "You've gotta slow that thing down, your heart is going to run away from you."

"I've had the worst anxiety all day long." You explained, wiping tears off your face. "I don't think my resting heart rate has been normal since I woke up this morning."

You could see his gears turning before he leaned over and gave you a kiss. "I know how to fix it, I'll be right back."

He wandered off again before coming back and holding his hands out for you, pulling you up off the couch. There were a few small complaints about how you didn't want to get up, or how you were so warm and comfortable, but he swore this would help.

Dragging you into the bathroom, you noticed he lit a candle and started a bubble bath. The sight alone made you release a long sigh, and Steve took that as a good sign.

The two of you fell into silence once more, words were useless when you already knew how this was going to go. Besides, all the talking would do was mask the sound of the rain pattering against the roof, and that was loved deeply by the both of you.

He flicked off the light switch leaving just candlelight to softly illuminate the bathroom while you both undressed and sank into the hot water.

Steve sat behind you, and you sat between his legs with your back leaning against his chest. The moment you settled in, his arms wrapped around your tummy and rested on top of your thighs.

With his soft skin against yours, and the pressure of the hot water against the whole of your body, your mind began to slow enough to start thinking rationally.

You could feel Steve's calm, deep breaths as his diaphragm inflated and deflated against your back, subconsciously making your body match his.

Very quickly, you went from feeling like you weren't good enough to even be around him to feeling an overwhelming sense of safety and gratitude for his love.

Especially when you never had to worry about what your body might've looked like while sitting down, or if your tummy was too soft underneath his arms. You especially didn't have to worry about what he might've felt beneath his wandering palms as starting moving them about your body, applying some pressure to your tense shoulders and the tops of your arms. You didn't have to worry about the pressure of being in this situation, already naked with his hands roaming about. His intentions were always very clear and he didn't even need his words to state them.

You were safe in the hands of the man you loved, and he loved you so much that you didn't have to worry. You didn't have to put out for him or give him anything in return right now, he just loved you, and he wanted you to feel better.

He gave you an occasional chastise kiss to your shoulder between massaging various parts of your body, and oxytocin flooded your brain faster than you understood.

The tears eventually stopped wetting your cheeks, and the rain only started falling even harder outside.

Your head leaned backwards and a bit sideways to rest on Steve's shoulder, and you couldn't help but to lift your hand up out of the water and reach back to cradle the side of Steve's face.

"I love you" You whispered, not wanting to ruin the peace. "I'm sorry I didn't say it back earlier."

"It's okay, baby." His voice also gentle and full of adoration. "I know you love me, you don't have to say it for me to know it. I trust that you know I love you too, even when your brain is being very unkind to you."

You very subtly nodded, understanding exactly what he was saying.

The two of you weren't unfamiliar with nights like these, skin to skin in the bathtub, or in the shower, even the bed or on the couch. Between the nature of Steve's job and your chronic anxiety, the two of you have become experts at being present for each other. When the world was spinning too fast or it came to a screeching halt, you could always trust the other person to know exactly how to grasp it and make it spin just right.

It wasn't something that came easy or naturally, you both learned a lot from each other and your methods were ever changing much like every season of life. The closer you bonded, the easier it was to understand each other's needs.

There was a fine line between needing affirming words and complete silence, needing support but also needing to be left alone. Some nights looked like a few hours of alone time, some looked like you were super glued together, but every anxiety attack was ended with your bare bodies regulating as one.

He knew you had your fill of silence, and your words told him you were ready to talk.

"You know you never have to shy away from me, I'm always happy to be with you even if you think otherwise." He reassured. "Thank you for coming with me tonight. I know that was really hard, but I appreciate you."

"I just didn't want to ruin your fun, I felt bad that I wasn't at my best and I didn't want you to have to deal with it. That's not fair." You explained quietly.

You learned very early on in your relationship to just be upfront and honest with Steve, another privilege of being with him. He never made you feel bad or weird about your true feelings, and he always knew just the right things to say. In turn, he was completely open and honest with you, and you've never trusted anyone more in your whole life.

"You didn't ruin the fun, the fun was ruined the moment everyone decided to make you a target and that's not your fault." Steve shook his head. "What's not fair is you thinking that having an off day makes you an inconvenience to anyone else. You're allowed to be sad or upset sometimes, baby. It's life, it's okay. How many times have you cancelled plans or altered your day just because I turned into a ticking time bomb of panic? I'm happy to return the favor, I enjoy taking care of you."

"It's different." You denied with a slight shake of your head. "You're a superhero, Stevie. Most of those days are because you've gotten shot or stabbed or you've witnessed and been involved in unthinkable horrors. I work an office job four blocks away and can barely handle that pressure."

"Thats not a fair comparison." Steve denied. "At the very root of it, we're both human and life will never be completely perfect all of the time. Regardless of if you're smiley and bouncing off the walls or just need a day to cry in bed I love you just the same."

You kissed the corner of his jaw in acceptance before completely relaxing your body against his. Steve's hand reached up and rested right over your heart.

"Besides," He started again. "I think that you're also exposed to all of those unthinkable horrors just from having to put up with me every day. The way you handle it and the way you treat me contributes a lot to my ability to do what I do everyday. I understand I probably make your anxiety worse sometimes, because I wouldn't even be able to handle dating me."

"It's worth every second of digging bullets out of you with tweezers, baby." You grinned, earning Steve's smile in return.

"See? You're a superhero too." He pointed out. "And your heart is slow and steady. That makes me really happy."

"You make me really happy." You replied without a second thought. "Thank you for this, I feel so much better."

"Anytime, Beautiful." He kissed your cheek. "I'm sorry you had a bad day. I know for sure that tomorrow is going to be so much better."

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yanderefics-recs · 3 months ago

Text

Dark!Cheaters pt 2

for my besties that were asking for a part 2

Stress Relief @miyaagis (tumblr)

Remarks: hwbsgahahha this one is actually pretty sad 😭 basically your husband oikawa cheats on you with iwa and uses stress from work as an excuse. Try reading the asks answered by the author, you'll see a bit of the yandere sides but the oneshot is just angst (and i love it)

Run for Cover by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (tumblr) (finished)

Remarks: This one touches more on abusive behavior! Steve Rogers is your perfect picture husband and he treats you like shit. Trust me, you're gonna be on your toes reading this lol

No Plan by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (ao3)

Remarks: Dark bucky. Just abusive behavior so like... be warned.

Yan!Cheater Series by @droaxa (tumblr)

Comments: for some reason tumblr is lagging and not allowing me to paste links so just check out their page and masterlist and you’ll see it!! I love their work, it hits all the right spot

I Loved You Too Late by @Melody and @Sweetermae (quotev)

Comments: OOF ANGST ANGST ANGST!! Not an x-reader tho but it still is just as enjoyable!

#yandere cheaters #soulmate au #yandere cheater #yan!cheater recs #yan!cheater #dark!cheaters

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p3sephone · 4 months ago

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No escape (Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x dark! Steve Rogers)

Summary: Natasha and Steve found a common interest, and that is you. But then you say things like you want to break up, and then escape. So, of course they take you back, and then make sure you understand the hardest way you can't really leave them.

Warnings: past non-con, physical and psychological abuse, manipulation, Natasha is a warning herself, kidnapping, drugging, future non-con implied, dark thought on reader. This is a dark story with dark themes, so minors are NOT ALLOWED, only +18. I don't own these characters.

Note: okay so, I kinda have a little thought about turning this into a serie or at least make part 2. What do you think? Anyway, any comment, like or reblog is truly appreciated. <3 Requests are open!

She didn't know what was going through her mind. It was something crazy what she had just done, and yet Natasha continued to drive towards her desolate destination while your helpless and drugged body was in the back of the seats. She had to admit, she had always been determined and rigid in her decisions, but even she wavered sometimes. Especially when it came to you. But you were so stubborn, what was she supposed to do?

You had left her. You had left her and Steve. She still remembered the conversation from days ago.

"I want to break up."

They were extremely simple words, but coming out of your mouth they were truly surreal. Natasha focused directly on you with an expressionless look, while Steve was already getting more nervous as he started to walk towards you. Natasha had always been the one who talked less than Steve: she was the one more inclined to inflict punishments and make you cry, Steve agreed with her but only when necessary.

If it were up to Natasha, you would have been locked up in that New York apartment at all hours and without the possibility of leaving. She remembered how your relationship was at the beginning: you, Steve and her. It had been born spontaneously, or rather, well, Natasha had perhaps manipulated more than a few things to ensure that the three of you ended up together and that Steve would give her more support when it came to having a firm hand on you.

If only she had had her way, those stupid words would never have come out of your mouth. Steve immediately asked the reasons and Natasha made a face of contempt at you. No, she was not willing to get into that conversation, because there was nothing to discuss: you would not have moved from there, far from them. She had to remind you that, even before Steve, Natasha had seen you for the first time. You were hers. Then the blond noticed you and Natasha didn't mind sharing with him, also because she knew she needed help in the early days because she knew we would get to this point without the right discipline.

"I don't feel good in this relationship anymore, I want… I want the life I had before." Natasha understood how uncertain you were when talking and did what she knew how to do best: manipulate you. She had manipulated you in every way, listing every single thing they had done for you, how well they treated you not only during your daily routine, but also during the nights you spent alone before.

That day she remembered that made you cry a lot, from humiliation. You felt humiliated deep down and somehow you knew that Natasha and Steve were wrong, but your body didn't have the strength to pull back from the long session of suffocating cuddles they forced you to after that argument.

Natasha remembered all of that vividly. Yet, her manipulation, her ways, even her kindness and mercy towards you hadn’t been enough to keep you confined in that apartment. Somehow that adorable head of yours had managed to find a way to escape from them. Steve was the first to discover it, and he felt mostly concern, followed by sadness and anger. Natasha knew Steve: he was a good guy, but if you pressed the right spots he became exactly like her. And Natasha didn’t need the Steve who was kind and adorable to you, she needed the other Steve, the same one you had dealt with one night when you had decided to reject them both in bed and insulted them. You had suffered some bruises and a bad headache, but Natasha remembered how well you had behaved in the days that followed.

Natasha’s mind suddenly cleared. She had done the right thing, she had followed you to that bar and drugged your soft drink, she had finally dragged you away without your dumb friends noticing anything. Oh, she would fix them later, but first she needed to teach you a lesson. She sneered wickedly. She just had to press that button. So, she called Steve. The infamous captain didn't take long to answer, looking all worried.

"Steve, I got her back. I'm taking her to our plan b, that place you know about." Natasha didn't even give him time to speak and continued in a stiff, angry voice. "Do you know where she was? She wasn't in danger. She was with her friends, in a bar and dressed in a shabby way. She had a man on her and she was completely ready for his attentions, you have no idea how she was dancing. She dressed like we always forbade her to, she drank and accepted a bag of… I don't know, but I took her out of there. I did the right thing, didn't I, Steve?"

Natasha didn't need an answer. She had actually lied: you weren't doing any of that, you were just talking to your friends and when a man approached you you politely rejected him like the beautiful little girl you are.

But Natasha had to make you understand that there were consequences if you ran away from them, and Steve would never guarantee those consequences unless she said the things he hated the most.

Natasha thought you were cute in those short, skimpy dresses, it just made her want to rip them off, Steve preferred a more conservative part. Natasha hated it when anyone else paid attention to you, Steve did the same. Natasha liked you when you were drunk because you couldn't remember what she did to you during that time, Steve… well, he might be lying but he actually liked you too, even if with more guilt.

"I'm coming." Steve didn't give Natasha time to say anything else, he had already hung up. The red-haired woman looked at your poor, still helpless and unaware figure in the mirror. You had no idea what was waiting for you but Natasha did, and she was going to savor every second of it. You'll never leave her again, she'll make sure of it.

#dark marvel #dark avengers #dark steve rogers #dark natasha romanoff #dark! steve rogers x reader #dark! natasha romanoff x reader #dark! natasha x reader #dark! steve x reader #dark! steve rogers x reader x dark natasha romanoff #dark black widow x reader #dark steve x reader

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gummydummy19 · 1 year ago

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A White Christmas

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Male Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend Steve have the tower to yourself this Christmas :))

Content Warnings: Smut (handjob, use of toys, cum eating, anal, top M reader, bottom Steve Rogers, slight degradation, daddy kink...), fluff, horrible Christmas puns :))

A/N: @sozombiearcade thank you so much for this lovely Christmas request and for being so patient with me <3, I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas everyone!!xxx

Word Count: 1860+

The streets of New York were packed. People desperately scattered around trying to find a last-minute Christmas present. It was absolutely freezing, or at least that's what it looked like. You were nice and warm up in Stark Tower, with a book on your lap.

You smiled to yourself as you glanced over to the big, beautiful Christmas tree, the neatly wrapped present you bought your boyfriend immediately catching your eye.

The Tower is quiet, aside from your Christmas playlist you have on repeat. Thor and Loki went back to Asgard, Nat and Bruce went over to Clint and his family during the Holidays, Sam invited Bucky to join him and his sister for Christmas dinner and Tony took Pepper skiing in Aspen. Leaving you and your boyfriend Steve alone in the Tower, which you had decorated excessively.

The smell of gingerbread slowly invades your senses and you hear Steve hum along with "Jingle Bells" from the kitchen. Sadly, his happy humming stops and gets replaced by an upset whine and a naughty word or two.

'Language!', you yell with a grin, but when you don't hear a reply, you decide to put your book aside and make your way to the kitchen.

'Stevie, everything okay?' you ask as you stick your head through the doorframe. Steve is looking down at his tray of freshly baked cookies with a defeated look.

"What's wrong, honey? They look great!" you ask as you walk closer.

"I forgot to buy icing." The look on his face breaks your heart, but admittedly the little pout on his face is quite adorable. Truth be told, he has been looking insanely good all day.

Steve is not only an attractive man, he also cares a lot about hygiene. Back in the 40s he didn't have all the luxuries he has today, and when he goes on missions he sometimes can't shower or shave for weeks. So when he's home, he showers and shaves every single morning after his run. He hates body hair, so he was always perfectly sleek...everywhere.

"Oh Stevie, that's okay...they still look good without the icing," you reassure him, looking down at the gingerbread men.

"They look naked." he points out with a frown on his face.

You grin, pulling Steve closer and pressing a sweet kiss on his neck. "I do love my men naked..." you mumble as you nibble on his ear, hoping to cheer him up a little.

Unfortunately, the defeated look on Steve's face didn't go away that easily. "Aw, Stevie..." you cooed, wrapping your arms around him, "you know I hate to see you sad," your lips found his neck again while your arms squeezed him tighter to your chest.

Steve's breath hitched when you found his sweet spot, nibbling on it while your hands gently grabbed his hips, pulling his ass flush against your hardening cock. His hands grabbed the counter for balance as he whined, feeling your bulge grind against his ass.

"I'm sure we can figure something out...let me turn that frown upside down, baby, hmm?"

"Yes, daddy", Steve moaned obediently.

"Wanna touch daddy's cock? Hmm? Would that make you happy? Wanna jerk me off, baby?", you teased.

"Yes, daddy..." he whined.

"Ask daddy nicely, baby,"

"Please, daddy, please," he bucked his hips forward.

"Please, what?" you taunted.

"Please can I touch you, daddy, can I jerk you off, please..." he begged.

"Good boy...of course baby, c'mere," you packed up a little, allowing Steve to turn around. He immediately dropped to his knees and pulled down your sweats, noticing that you were already rock-hard.

"What a slutty boy..." you groaned, spitting in your hand before reaching down to stroke your hard cock.

You groaned at the feeling, letting your eyes fall shut for a second until you heard Steve whine impatiently.

You looked down at him, "Touch daddy's cock, Stevie", you commanded and he immediately did as he was told, squeezing your dick tightly as he stroked it up and down before twisting his first over your tip.

As you felt yourself creep closer to the edge, the tray of cookies caught your eye. You reached over, pulling it closer while Steve sped up his movements around your throbbing cock.

"That's it, baby...be a good boy and make daddy cum."

It only took a couple more strokes until you fell over the edge with a loud groan. Your body shook a little as you tried your best to aim for the platter, covering the gingerbread men with your sticky, white cum.

"Fuck, Steve...", you couldn't help but groan, "good fucking boy..."

You pulled him up against you, fumbling to pull your sweatpants up in the meantime. You let him drop his head on your shoulder as you did the same. Your mouth found the pulse point on his neck, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your lips.

You looked at the counter, observing the wonderful mess you had made. "Look at that, Stevie...your gingerbread men aren't so naked anymore", you grinned, picking up one of the cookies that was covered in cum and bringing it to his mouth. He took a large bite, savoring your familiar taste.

"Delicious...", he hummed, looking at you in adoration. You couldn't help but pull him in for a passionate kiss, tasting the sweetness of his cookies and the saltiness of your...icing.

"I think you deserve to open one of your Christmas presents early, what do you think?"

"Yeah?", he blushed and you nodded, taking his hand and pulling him to the living room.

"Say, Stevie, have you been naughty or nice this year?" you smirked and you pushed your boyfriend back on the couch.

"Is that a trick question?" he grinned, making you smile.

"Hmm," you couldn't help but kiss him again before getting up and grabbing a neatly wrapped box from under the tree.

"Naughty and/or nice, you've definitely been my good boy this year", you praised.

Steve gently ripped open the packaging, his cheeks tinting red again as he saw what you had gifted him. It was a navy blue, vibrating stroker.

"Do you like it?", you asked, grinning when Steve nodded franticly.

"Wanna try it?", you asked, trying to contain the twinkle in your eyes.

He nodded again, this time a bit more shy.

"You want uh...do you wanna...or...you want me to...uhm...", he stuttered, making you chuckle before leaning in closer.

"I wanna use it on you, Stevie, if that's okay?"

"Y-yeah, yes, absolutely."

His enthusiasm alone made your cock stir again.

"That's my good boy," you mumbled against his lips, "take off your pants and play with yourself while I go get the lube,"

Steve's pants hit the floor before you even made it out of the living room. When you got back, merely a couple seconds later, you found him panting on the couch with his cock in his hand.

"Merry Christmas indeed," you stated, dropping down next to him. Your hand quickly took over from his, pumping him a couple times until he was a moaning mess.

"Turn around", you commanded and he obeyed immediately, giving you a clear view of his shaven asshole.

"Fuck, you know, I hate it when they call this America's ass. This is my ass, all mine," you grumbled, giving his cheek a good squeeze followed by a light smack.

"Ah...yes, daddy, all yours, please touch me, daddy", he pleaded.

"Yeah? Want me to touch you? Want daddy to fill your stocking, hm?"

Steve couldn't help but giggle a little at your awful pun, earning him another spank.

"Shut up," you chuckled, before reaching to grab the lube and applying a good amount on his bare hole and your fingers.

Steve moaned loudly as you slid a finger inside, prepping him for your hardening cock. You slowly worked him open, adding another finger while your other hand gently traced his skin.

"Ready for my cock, Stevie?" you questioned after a couple minutes, noticing he was getting harder and more desperate.

"Yes, please...please"

You used some more lube to cover your cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it to Steve's hole. Slowly but steadily you slid inside him. Both of you let out a string of whines and groans, your hands holding onto his hips as you fucked him slowly from behind.

You gave him some time to adjust before you grabbed the toy, adding a little bit of lube to that as well.

"C'mere, Stevie, lean up a bit...like this", you gently grabbed his shoulder, making him lean his back against your chest so you had easier access to his smoothly-shaven cock. The toy slid over him with ease.

"Oh shit, daddy!" he moaned when you turned up the vibrations, stroking the toy while starting to fuck into him again.

"Fuck, baby, doing so good, my good boy", you praised as you picked up the pace, positively destroying his asshole.

Your free hand roamed over his strong, hairless chest, pinching his nipple in the process.

"Ah, f-fuck..." he stuttered, his head lulling back against your shoulder.

you chuckled, "You like it when I play with your nipples, hmm? Such a desperate little slut...look at you, I've only just started and your cock is already leaking", you taunted, feeling the sticky drops land on your fingers.

"Please, daddy...fuck, that feels so good..."

That was your cue to turn up the vibrations, making Steve keen in pleasure. His hands for your arms, trying to keep himself grounded.

You angled your hips up a little, hitting his spot perfectly.

"Fuuucckk, daddy, right there! Please please please can I cum? Can I cum please m'so close...", he begged, tears welling in his eyes.

"Cum for me you fucking slut, cum for me while I fuck your ass."

And he did. Hard.

Steve's cum shot out of his dick in thick ropes, covering his own stomach and chest.

You fucked him roughly through his high, before discarding the toy and pulling out of him.

"Turn around!" you roared, as you jerked yourself off at a fast pace, ready to tumble over the edge.

Steve clumsily dropped to his knees, just in time to catch the hot spurts of cum all over his face.

You yelled out his name, screwing your eyes shut as pleasure consumed you.

"Fucking hell..." you huffed out. Your eyes fluttered open and you were met with an absolutely ruined Steve, leaning exhausted against the couch, covered in both your and his own cum.

You dropped down beside him, pulling him close. "You did so good for me, you're so hot, so perfect...", you mumbled, trying to bring him back down to earth with sweet words and gentle kisses.

"You okay?", you asked, taking in his fucked out look.

"Hmm", was all he could muster, looking at you with a dopey grin plastered all over his face.

"Looks like you got a white Christmas this year, huh?", you grinned.

"Oh, shut up", he chuckled, playfully hitting your shoulder.

The two of you cuddled for a while after that, before taking a nice hot shower together. Though in hindsight, that might have been a bit pointless, since Steve still had to give you his gift too....

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior

#steve rogers x male reader #steve rogers smut #captain america smut #captain america #steve rogers #smut #fluff #Christmas

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