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sinner-as-saint · 2 years ago

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some ancient call

Gargoyle!Steve x Mermaid!Reader (fantasy au)

Run-through: When Steve first came to this peaceful, magical country where all manners of magical beings lived together in harmony, he didn’t know what to expect. He was a stern, stone cold and grumpy male so he was surprised when he managed to even make friends. And he was even more surprised when his heart of stone suddenly began racing whenever a certain pretty mermaid was in sight. He’d never been in love or liked someone before, he didn’t know how. So despite his feelings, he kept pushing you away. Afraid that he might ruin it all. But you were a stubborn one, and you refused to give up on the handsome gargoyle.

Themes: grumpy x sunshine trope, fluff, smut, mermaid!reader, gargoyle!steve, banters, slight enemies to lovers, virgin!reader, hurt/comfort, size difference, HEA

You smiled to yourself, standing on the jetty.

You were beyond thankful for your witch friend because thanks to her magical crystals, shifting to be able to walk on land was now ten times easier.

Her magic acted like an amplifier to your own and shifting was quicker than it naturally was. Now, whenever you wanted to roam the woods, or go visit your friends on land, or even just get out of the lake for a while you could shift from having fins to having legs in the blink of an eye.

You quickly slipped on the dress you’d brought with you as you stood on the jetty. Sure, it was completely drenched right now. But it was a flimsy thing and given that the sun was out, it would dry in no time. Besides, you of all people didn’t mind the wetness.

You loved the lake. The tranquillity, the stillness in the air. How it was always foggy, and cold. There were a few lakes on these lands, the others were much larger and less cold so most of your friends moved but you remained here. This was your favourite place ever. Your friends visited often, almost each day but for the most part, the lake was your spot.

The cold morning air made you shiver but you loved it. The birds chirped from deep inside the nearby woods, the sunrise turned the sky golden and the faintest of blues. You walked along the jetty and stared right ahead at another thing you loved about this lake and its surroundings - the two storey cabin which belonged to a certain grumpy, but dangerously handsome gargoyle.

The first time you met Steve was when you were roaming the woods one morning, a few years ago…

As per usual, that day you had gotten out of the lake, shifted and got dressed, then went for a walk. You had always loved the woods, the feeling of cold dirt and moss beneath your feet, the sound of birds and the feeling of rough tree barks. Not to mention the wild berries you loved so much.

You often gathered a bunch and took them to the witch, who was one of your best friends, and she would bake them into the most delicious pies for you.

So that day, while you were gathering your berries and dreaming about pies, you heard something in the woods. It sounded like a male voice. A grunt of some sort. Worried that someone might be injured you followed the sound and went to investigate.

And that’s when you saw him. The gargoyle, lifting heavy rocks. Exercising, you figured. You couldn’t look away. He looked mostly like a human male, just much larger and taller than most. With large, dark mammalian wings. Like those of a bat just way larger. He also had a pointy tail. And horns at his hairline. He had longish dark hair, dark stubble on his face and a focused look in his eyes. He looked more like a fallen angel than a beast.

His bare, muscular chest glistened in the minimal sunlight, his dark pants hugged his strong legs and you found your heart racing at the sight of his physique. Muscular arms, thick biceps, large hands, and he lifted those rocks like they weighed nothing. You watched him from behind a tree. Watched how his muscles flexed and moved. How he grunted and groaned occasionally.

You’d never found a male this fascinating to look at before. But this beast of a male was a proper sight to behold. You watched like a little creep.

Then you jumped in surprise when he said, out of nowhere, “You know it’s rude to stare.” His deep, monotonous voice sent shivers down your entire body. He didn’t stop lifting though, even as you sheepishly stepped out from behind the tree.

“I apologise, I… I heard you and I was curious.” You said. Silence. “I’ve never seen you before, are you new here?” You asked with a smile. He grunted in response, still not meeting your eyes. “What’s your name?” You pushed, ignoring the way your body tingled just watching him.

A grunt. Then, “Steve.” He answered, finally looking up at you. His eyes took your breath away but the look he gave you made you feel like you were next to nothing. He looked annoyed by your presence. Like he couldn’t bear to look at you for another second.

Despite that, you gave him your best smile. “Well, hello Steve!” You said cheerfully, “I’m-,”

“Go away.” He grunted, cutting you off rather rudely, before getting back to exercising. You watched him for a few more seconds, blinking and unable to process the unnecessary rudeness. He dropped the rocks and began doing pushups on the ground.

You couldn’t bear the sight of his sinful body then. So you turned around and walked away quickly. Your face was burning in embarrassment. Though you could feel his stare on your back as you walked away.

You huffed in anger once you were out of the woods. Screw the handsome gargoyle. He was the rudest male you’d ever encountered! You promised yourself you would never speak to him ever again.

But then a week later, you bumped into him at the market. Literally bumped into him and he had to grab your elbow to keep you from falling to the ground. “Watch where you’re going.” He grunted almost angrily, still looking at you like the sight of you offended him. Wings tucked carefully behind him, tail swishing which only showed his annoyance.

You pulled your hand away from his warm grasp, “You watch where you’re going!” You hissed, very much annoyed too. His blue eyes stared down at you. His pretty face frowned at you. He was devastatingly handsome, the kind of beauty one could stare at all day. “Don’t gargoyles turn into stone at sunrise anyway? What are you doing here then? Go perch somewhere!”

You walked away quickly, joining your fellow mermaids at the faeries’ flower stand. He really needed to stop showing at your favourite places. First the woods, now the market? You sighed, looking around the place you were grateful you called home.

The market was incredible, truly. Flowers, produce, meats, cheese, bread, clothes, jewellery, you’d find anything here. Including grumpy gargoyles apparently. But you pushed the thoughts of the gargoyle with deep blue eyes and made your way over to your favourite shop, the witch’s.

The next time you saw Steve after the market incident was at the lakeside. Your lake. And he was there lifting heavy tree logs and metal, and other tools which meant that he was building something. You watched him from the middle of the lake, only your head was visible above the surface so he didn’t notice you. But there were other males helping him so you didn’t want to get out.

But you waited. You waited until the other males left at the end of the day. At around sunset, you got as close to the pebbly shore as possible, shifted and quickly put on your little dress before you walked up to the gargoyle and yelled in his face as he was packing up to leave.

“What do you think you’re doing near my lake?” You asked, looking around at the logs which now after a day’s work looked like the foundation for something. A house, you realised. He was building a house. Here.

“Building a cabin.” He grunted, wiping his hands on a cloth and paying little attention to you. He wouldn’t even look at you.

You hissed, “Oh I don’t think so! I will not have a rude, grumpy neighbour. You… you cannot build a house here, not near my lake!” You argued, pissed off.

Steve finally looked at you, staring into your eyes. “The lake might be yours, mermaid. But the lands surrounding it aren't. Besides, last I checked, this was a free country and anyone can build a home wherever they want as long as they’re not harming anyone.” He said. It was the most he’d ever said to you and you couldn’t help but notice how nice his deep voice was.

You argued, unreasonably but desperately, “Well this is causing me a lot of harm.”

He shrugged, wings moving behind him. His tail kept swishing around. He threw the cloth into a large bag filled with tools then picked the bag up and grunted, “I don’t care. I’m free to do what I want. In fact,” His voice deepened a little more as he took a step towards you, now standing mere inches away from you. You trembled at the proximity, that space between your legs tingling as he spoke, “I may even row across that little lake of yours if I wish to.”

You held his stare, fuming as you said, “You so much as dip your toe into my lake, I will drown you.” Then you turned around and walked away.

For the next few weeks, you didn’t see Steve at all. Mainly because you either stayed in your underwater caves or you spent all your time in the other lakes with your friends, or with your friends on land. You weren’t willing to admit it but you didn’t want to look at Steve at all, you didn’t want to watch his glorious body moving around as he built his house, with some of his friends’ help. So you stayed away as much as possible.

But then came the day that changed everything.

You reached near the shore, eyeing the cabin Steve had been building. The first floor was almost done, you noticed. And you hated to admit it but it looked cosy even when incomplete. You scoffed at the thought of the gargoyle. Was he in there right now? You knew he’d been wearing the magical crystals which helped him not turn into stone. So could he be walking around in his house right now?

You were just about to shift and maybe go peak in there when you felt a sudden pain in your tail. You looked down and found a large cut, from the middle of your tail down to your fins almost. You froze. You were bleeding and the pain was excruciating and you’d never seen so much blood before, so you panicked.

Your tail flicked quicker in the shallow water because you couldn’t keep it still in panic but the movement also made you bleed even more. You hissed and cried in pain, not knowing what to do.

And just then, you heard the flap of huge wings. You had tears in your eyes so as you looked up all you saw was a male figure with huge wings soaring above you, diving straight down to where you were. And in just a few moments, Steve landed on the shallow waters beside you. The water only came up to his thighs as he rushed over to you quickly.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay,” He said as he picked you up with ease, carrying you over to his cabin, “I’m here. I’ve got you, little one. It’s gonna be okay.” He carefully set you down on his large porch and assessed your wound. “What happened?” He asked.

You sniffled, unable to look at it, “It must be one of the sharp rocks near the shore. I didn’t… it hurts so bad.” You cried, clutching his hand like your life depended on it. You looked up into his eyes and he looked like he was thinking about what to do.

But then your eyes began drooping… and you watched the panicked expression on Steve’s face. You remember him cupping your face, saying, “Hey, stay with me. Come on, don’t…” His voice faded into nothing and there was only darkness after that.

When you woke up again, you were in a large metal tub filled with lake water, with a pillow supporting your neck. The first thing you noticed was the fireplace keeping the room warm. And that you were indoors. You tensed up and looked down at your tail and found it properly bandaged. You could smell the medicine but you didn’t remember anything. You looked around, confused.

Then a voice spoke up from the other side of the room. “You’re safe, don’t worry.” Steve said, walking up and standing by the side of the tub as he looked down at you. You immediately crossed your hands over your bare chest to hide your body but… you noticed you were wearing a shirt.

One that was too large for you. One that would fit Steve’s huge shoulders. You were in Steve’s shirt. You looked up at him, a questioning look in your eyes as you watched him crouch down beside the tub. He rubbed his neck awkwardly and said, “I, uh… I had to go get the witch and her partner and, uh, I figured you wouldn’t wanna be naked around others, right?”

You almost melted. Tears pooled in your eyes. You looked at him in gratitude. “Thank you, Steve.” You said, then pointed at your wound, “My friend, um, she did that?”

Steve nodded, “Yeah. The witch also put medicine in the water and said that you are supposed to soak in it until tomorrow night. Hence the tub. She also said you have to keep the tail still so it can heal better. So, uh, we’re gonna be housemates for a while I suppose.”

You thought about all the mean things you said to him and your eyes watered again. “Steve, I’m sorry,” You sniffled, “I am so, so sorry for everything I ever said to you. I take it all back.” You said. “Thank you for helping me.” You looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

Steve didn’t smile, didn’t say anything. He just nodded and stood up again. “Is the fire okay? The witch said the warmth will do you good.”

You smiled and nodded, “It’s okay. Thank you.” You said again.

Steve just nodded and turned to walk away. “Yell if you need anything, I’ll be outside.”

You looked out the nearest window and noticed it was still bright outside, maybe late in the afternoon so Steve must be outside building stuff. And sure enough, you heard the sound of him hammering shortly after. But the medicine soon put you to sleep.

When you woke up again, it was morning. You’d slept for hours it seemed. You were to remain in the tub Steve had said and with your tail injured, you couldn’t shift either. So you sighed in the tub, and that’s when Steve walked in.

“No need to pout. Just sit still until it heals and then you can go wherever you want.” He said, handing you food on a plate.

“I’m not pouting,” You said, shoving bread and cheese in your mouth. “I’m just not used to staying in one place for too long.”

Steve grunted, crouching down by the tub and inspected your tail casually, “I could tell by the way you shifted around, tossing and turning all night long in that tub.”

You stopped chewing for a moment. “You were in here with me all night?” You asked.

Steve looked up at you and nodded. “There’s a medicine that needs to be poured into the tub every two hours, so…” He trailed off.

“Oh Steve,” You reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I’m terrible for being so mean to you before. I’m so sorry.” You whispered. You’d misjudged the male, you quickly realised.

He grunted again, then took the empty plate from you and handed you a small vial of what you assumed was medicine. “Drink, sleep. You need rest to be able to heal.” He said, then turned around and walked away.

You did as he asked and slept for the majority of the day. Steve woke you up once during the day and gave you some more food and more medicine. You felt much better already, the pain was almost gone.

You woke up from another nap and noticed that it was night time. The witch’s magic and medicine had worked perfectly because now you could move your tail around in the tub with absolutely no pain.

Steve walked in and saw you looking down at your tail, smiling like crazy. He grunted, “You’re all healed I see. Ready to go back home?”

You nodded, and watched him approach the tub. He slid his arms in and picked you up easily then walked towards the door. It was nice and cool outside, and the lake looked magical with all the fog and moonlight.

Steve walked towards the shore and stepped into the water. He stopped when the water was at his waist before gently lowering you down in it. He stayed still for a moment as you tested your swimming. He watched you as you swam around him once, twice then dove in for a few seconds before coming back, smiling at him.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore!” You exclaimed, swimming closer to him and throwing your arms around his neck without thinking. But to your surprise, your grumpy neighbour wrapped an arm around you. “Thank you, Steve. I don’t know what I would do without you. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you.”

“Be careful.” He said as you pulled away. Then he looked down at you and handed you something. It was another vial of medicine. “Drink it before going to sleep.”

You couldn’t help but tease him, “Who knew you’d be such a good nurse, Steve?” You took the vial and drank it. Then said, swimming around him, “Think I’ll come knocking on your door whenever I’m hurt now.”

He grunted. “I better hold on to that tub then.”

You chuckled. “Thank you for everything.” You leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He went so still you were afraid he might’ve turned to stone in the water. You held back from giggling and said, “Good night, neighbour. I’ll see you soon.”

You knew he watched you as you swam away.

When you swam up to the surface the next day, you found Steve working on something in the water. But it wasn’t his house. So you swam as close as you could to the shore, not wanting to shift yet and neither wanting to cut yourself again, and called out, “What are you doing?”

Steve turned to look at you, then turned back around and said, “Building a jetty.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“It’ll extend deep into the lake.” He explained slowly, though grumpily. “So you don’t have to get close to the shore to shift. You can just get on it, shift, and walk down to the shore. No more cuts, and no more mermaids in tubs in my living room.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips. “Was I that bad of a housemate?” You asked.

Steve turned to look at you, with that same frown on his pretty face. Except now you didn’t mind it because you knew it was just a mask. Deep down, he was a caring and kind soul. The frown, the grunts, the grumpiness and the rude tone was just his armour that he wore.

“You snore.” He accused in all seriousness, then got back to work.

“I do not!” You laughed then swam a little closer. “Do you need help?”

And so, it took you two a few days but the jetty was built nicely. It was sturdy too. And on the day that you finished building, you both sat on the edge and shared a quick dinner of bread, cheese and fresh berries.

You thought it’d be better to not shift for a few more days so you sat beside Steve on the jetty with your tail dipped in the water. You noticed the way Steve looked at your tail just swishing around.

“It’s healed up nicely.” You told him, looking into his eyes. Steve nodded but didn’t say anything and stared ahead. You watched his side profile and really, it should be a crime for someone to have that perfect of a side profile. His wings were tucked in behind him, his tail lay flat on the wood. He seemed so… relaxed. “I really am sorry, Steve.” You said.

This made him look right at you. “You’ve apologised many times.” He said.

“I feel so bad.” You admitted. “I’ve been so mean to you and you still took care of me.”

He shrugged. “Any good neighbour would.”

You smiled at him. Then asked, “Can we be friends?”

To your surprise, he nodded. “Yes. We can.” He said.

And so was born a rather peculiar camaraderie between you and Steve. You’d often go check up on him as he built the last bits of his house. You’d smile and say hello, and he’d grunt. You’d often bring him bread and cheese from the market. When you collected berries, you’d leave some on his front porch if ever he was asleep or just not home. Then you’d constantly poke your head up on the surface and check if he took them.

He always did.

And right now, as you walked down the jetty, one look at the cabin let you know that Steve wasn’t home. Oh well, guess annoying him would have to wait.

So you made your way to the market as usual. You met up with your friends before making your way to your favourite shop. Except one you walked in, instead of the witch, you found a certain gargoyle with blue eyes moving around in there like the shop was his instead.

“Oh hello Steve!” You smiled at him.

He gave you a curt nod, then got back to arranging things on a shelf.

“So… what exactly are you doing here?” You asked, browsing through the jewellery and the charms. “Where’s Bucky?”

Steve answered as he carefully labelled each vial. “The witch is expecting their second child sometime later this week. Bucky asked her not to work in this condition. And he’s at home with her, so I offered to manage the shop until they’re ready to take over again.” He didn’t lift his head once. You were used to his standoff-ish manner now so you didn’t mind, neither did you mistake it for rudeness.

Although it was a little weird watching him be normal with others. With his friends, for instance, he’d laugh and joke and be relaxed around them. Around you on the other hand, he seemed tense most of the time.

“I see,” You smiled at the thought of your friend and Bucky. They were such an adorable couple. “So you’ll be working here for a while-,” You stopped talking the moment you turned around and found Steve standing just inches away from you. You were surprised because you hadn’t heard him move at all. “Um, hello.” You said nervously given the gargoyle did nothing but just stare down at you. Given his beastly height and build, you had to crane your head up to look at him.

Steve only said, “You’re drenched.”

You chuckled, “Well, I do live in a lake, Steve.”

He didn’t say anything, he just stared.

You followed his eyes and looked down to find your nipples all perked up and showing through the flimsy, wet fabric. “Oh,” You awkwardly crossed your arms over your chest, “Um, well usually my dresses dry out in the sun but it’s rather cloudy today.” You answered, your face burning in embarrassment.

Steve grunted, then said, “Leave your clothes at the cabin. I’ll leave the door open so you can go in there and change. And be dry. Instead of walking around looking like… like this.” He said in his usual grumpy tone.

“Oh,” You were surprised at his hospitality. “Thank you, Steve. You’re very kind.” You said, then couldn’t help but want to break the sudden, strange tension that had formed between you two. You chuckled and said, “I didn’t know a naked body could bother you that much.” You teased.

Silence. Then without another word said, Steve leaned in. You took a small step back, your back now pressing against the bookshelf behind you. You couldn’t look away from his eyes. Steve placed a hand beside your head, caging you in. Your heart began racing.

In that deep voice of his he said, “Your body doesn’t bother me, little one. But the thought of every other male watching you walk around like this does.”

“Oh.” You shivered, mere inches separated you from him. If you wanted, you could press your front to his and bask in his warmth. But you were too surprised to move. Plus the heat radiating off of his body was intoxicating. You looked up at his face, really looked at him. His hair which kept getting longer, his horns as dark as his wings, the stubble on his cheeks which only made him look even more handsome.

Perhaps it was the sharpness of his clenched jaws, or the softness in his eyes but something made you stand on your tiptoes so you could press your mouth against him. Steve’s warm hands were on you immediately. His mouth moved cautiously against yours, his hands wrapping around you to pull you closer and slightly off the ground. You let out a soft moan as he teased you with his tongue and he growled against your open mouth before kissing you deeper.

Your arms around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair as you pulled him closer gently. Steve, despite his natural roughness, was careful with how he handled you. His mouth moved softly against yours, kissing you deeper and passionately. You wanted to hold on to his horns, just to see what it feels like but then you figured that would be too much.

Your drenched dress and his shirt was the only thing separating your bodies but somehow, for now this was enough. Steve was the first one to pull away, gently. He carefully set you back on your feet and stared into your eyes. You couldn’t help but look down at those swollen lips.

“Um,” You whispered, “I think I’m gonna go now.” You stepped to the side and immediately hated it because you wanted to be pressed up against him again. But you couldn’t, not here. “I guess I’ll see you later.” You said with a shy smile and Steve remained frozen in place as you walked out of the shop.

—

All this was new to Steve. The tingly feeling whenever he saw you, the way his heart began to race whenever you so much as spared him a glance, the way he felt the need to wrap his arms and wings around you and keep you safe from everything and everyone.

It all started that day he first saw you in the forest. He was floored but he didn’t know how to handle it so his first instinct was to push you away, to be mean in hopes that you would never look at him again. But then he kept meeting you again and again. And each time, he couldn’t bear to ignore you.

Being around you was enchanting, addicting. Like some ancient call that he felt the need to answer. In fact he was so deeply infatuated he chose to build his home as close to yours as possible like a fool.

And each time he’d have to calm his racing heart when he saw you. He’d have to hold back from reaching out and touching your skin.

The day he found you all alone and injured in the lake, he panicked. He’d never felt so protective over anyone before. Seeing you pass out from the pain was like someone took a sword and slashed his heart in two. He always thought himself incapable of feelings but then… you happened.

And now after kissing you, after finally knowing what your lips tasted like he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pretend for much longer.

—

Ever since that day, Steve would leave his house unlocked in the mornings when he left to go open the shop. And slowly, day by day, he would notice your clothes accumulating in his home.

A week later he ended up building you a trunk where you could put your dresses, then he began leaving extra towels in the shower for you to use.

Some days later he found a comb and some strands of hair on the ground and he surprised himself when he caught a soft smile on his face while thinking about you sharing his space, his home.

You both often had dinner on his front porch, just in comfortable silence because he believed he was awful company but given the fact that you’d come back again and again to have meals with him made him wonder that maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

–

One morning, as per usual you got out of the lake, walked down the jetty and ran into Steve’s house. You’d long stopped checking if he was home because at this time in the morning he was never here. He was always at the shop.

So there you were, naked as you rummaged through the trunk he’d made you. You grabbed a clean, dry dress and made your way to the shower. You were grateful for Steve because thanks to him now you could shower with warm water and pat yourself completely dry with his soft towels before getting ready to set out for the day. Such small luxuries but they made you feel so much better.

So you grabbed your stuff and walked into the shower like you owned it. And then froze as you looked down at the large tub you intended to bathe in. There was a naked male in there, who was also frozen as he stared at you in shock.

He looked like a god. Sitting there in a large tub, steam rising and swirling around him. His wings half dipped in the water. His damp hair stuck to his horns and face a little, the stubble on his cheeks seemed thicker. He hadn’t shaved yet, you noticed. It made him look feral. Like an ancient, forgotten god one would stumble upon in the middle of a dark forest. He made your thighs clench together just by sitting there.

You squirmed. “Oh um,” You tried your best to hide your body with the towel. “Steve. I should’ve knocked. I’m sorry, you’re usually not home at this time. I’ll-”

He cut you off by extending an arm out, saying, “Come. There’s room for both of us here.”

Screw it. He’s probably seen you naked plenty of times before. So you placed the dress and the towel down and took his hand as he guided you into the spacious tub. Honestly, it could fit three beings the size of Steve so there was indeed plenty of room for you two.

You let out a soft sigh once you were submerged into the warm water.

“Is it too hot for you?” Steve asked.

“Oh no it’s perfect. It is a bit chilly outside anyway, so this is nice.” You noticed the way your bodies pressed against each other as you sat beside him. Your thighs touched his but neither of you moved your legs away from one another.

He nodded, then reached down and grabbed a bar of soap but instead of handing it to you, you watched him pause and consider something for a quick moment before he said, “Come here,” He spoke softly, pointing at the space in front of him, in between his muscular legs.

You moved immediately, giving him your back. The moment he began lathering soap down your back and neck and arms, you had to hold back a moan at how good his hands felt moving over your skin. You could tell he was hesitant in the beginning but then you leaned back a little, getting closer to him and he took it as a sign to relax and just wash you.

His movement was slow and gentle, the silence was comfortable. The scent of the lavender soap filled your head and everything was perfect. So you quietly leaned back completely against Steve. He was so much larger than you that your head tucked in nicely under his chin. His hands moved down your sides under the water. He was way past washing you now. He just let his hands roam your body and you let him do that because it felt nice.

You were a bit too aware of where your bare body touched his. His muscular chest pressed against your back. Your thighs rested on top of his and something warm and hard pressed against your lower back, and it made your face heat up again. And you couldn’t help but squirm when you felt his fingers stroking your inner thigh.

Steve let out a hiss as you accidentally rubbed against his erection. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, then remained still. His fingers didn’t move any higher, but the slow and deliberate strokes around your inner thighs were driving you insane. “Oh Steve,” You couldn’t help but whine, “Please, stop teasing me just… just touch me already.”

He tensed up behind you for a moment, then said, “Turn around then.”

You moved immediately. You stood up before turning around to face him and then lowered back down, straddling his thighs as you sat on his lap, looking right into his eyes. His large hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer.

Something changed in his eyes as you watched. He seemed much more confident, if not a little cocky now. “Want me to touch you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You nodded, blinking at him. He was so beautiful. How did you manage to stay away from him all this time? He was the most handsome male you’d ever seen. And you’d seen a lot. “Yes, please.”

He shamelessly looked down at the water, clearly seeing how you straddled his lap. He smirked, and it took your breath away. “Where exactly would you like me to touch you?” He asked.

You almost moaned at the sound of his voice. You reached down, grabbed his hand and guided it over to where you needed him, in between your legs and you pressed his fingers against your folds down there. “Here, please.” You whispered.

He let out a rare chuckle. “Oh?” He moved his fingers around, “Let’s hear it then,” He slid two fingers up and down your slit, “Does that feel good?”

You threw your head back, whining as you moved your hips against his fingers, wanting more friction. “Yes, more please…” You cried out as he gently rubbed your clit.

Steve pressed a finger against your opening, not sliding it just yet. He asked, “You’re so sensitive. It’s been a while since someone touched you, huh?” He teased you even more, loving the way you’d squirm at the slightest of touch.

You looked back at him, and sheepishly said, “No one’s ever touched me there.” He froze at the sound of that, then before he could pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist and held it in place as you ground your hips down on it, “Oh please, Steve. I want you. I want it to be you.”

He growled as he leaned in to kiss you, a little more rough this time. “You’re killing me.” He said, moving his fingers once again, and carefully sliding one inside of you. “Is this what you want, hmm?” He slowly moved his finger in and out of you, the feeling was foreign to you but so pleasurable.

You arched your back, pressing your chest into him as he finger-fucked you slowly. “Yes, more…” You murmured against his lips, gasping as he slid his finger deeper inside you.

“Don’t be greedy,” He chided playfully. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said, keeping his finger inside you as he moved his thumb around toying with your clit. You’d never been touched this way, or any way, so his fingers alone made you gasp and moan and whine louder and louder.

“Steve,” You gasped, “You’ll never hurt me,” You whispered as you felt a pressure forming in between your legs. And before you knew it, you were coming undone all over his finger, moaning and grinding your hips against his hand.

Steve watched you with a proud look in his eyes as you came all over his hand. The water had long gone cold, making your nipples harden and he couldn’t help but lean down to take one in his mouth.

The warmth of his mouth made you clench around his finger which was still buried inside you and he had you whining and squirming in no time, his teeth teasing your nipple while his free hand fondled the other one.

He was surprised when he felt your hand feeling around his abdomen until you found what you were looking for. He growled when he felt you grab his cock, stroking it slowly. Then you asked, sounding a little embarrassed, “Am I doing this right?”

Steve released your breasts and kissed his way up your body until he reached your mouth, “Yeah. Just like that, little one.” He whispered against your mouth as you tried your hardest to jerk him off but you just wouldn’t get the hang of it.

Steve chuckled when he heard a little growl of frustration leave your mouth. “Oh just fuck me with it,” You said, looking up at him.

Steve just gave you a faint smile, “Not today.”

You whined, “Why?”

“You’re not ready. And I don’t want to hurt you. Now come on, the water’s cold.” He made to move and get up but you just slumped against his muscular chest with a groan.

“Can we just stay here all day?” You asked, wrapping your arms around him.

Steve held you securely and stood up, taking you with him as he stepped out of the tub. “No we can’t. I have work.”

You groaned again as he carried you over to where your towel was. He placed you down, picked it up and carefully patted you dry. You kept trying to convince him in vain, “But what if I let you put more than just your finger inside me?”

Steve looked up at you since he was crouched down by your feet, drying your legs. “Very tempting, but no.”

You frowned, “But Steve-,”

He cut you off by standing up and pulling you closer to him, hands shamelessly grabbing your butt cheeks. He pressed you to his naked body and said, “Another time, I promise. I want to be able to take my time with you. And I don’t want to hurt you. Yes?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Get dressed.” He said and you had to pretend like the authority in his voice didn’t drive you insane.

—

Things were casual and fun for the next coming weeks. Stolen kisses, warm hugs, and more and more pinning from your end because Steve wouldn’t do anything beyond making you come undone all over his fingers.

The one time he did use his tongue was after a terrible joke he made when you’d tried to make him dinner.

“What do gargoyles like to eat?” You’d asked cheerfully.

Steve looked at you dead in the eyes and said, “Freshwater fish.”

He’d earned himself a towel thrown at his face. Then he had apologised by bending you over his kitchen table and made you come all over his tongue.

You wanted more than day too. But he said he didn’t want to hurt you.

So you understood, and waited. And in the meantime, your bond just solidified even more. Steve could spend hours in the evening sitting on the jetty and talking to you. You’d show him your tricks, jumping out of the water and diving back in then come back up just to see if you impressed him.

You’d often bring him random things from the depths of the lake, mainly pretty rocks. And he’d keep them all in a box.

—

Then the weather changed. And one evening, there was a terrible thunderstorm. Lightning and thunder echoing around and shaking the ground even.

Steve made sure all of his windows were secure. He’d check the upstairs area twice now, no leaks, no broken window thankfully.

He was in the middle of feeding more wood logs into the fireplace when he heard faint knocks at his front door. Due to the loud thunder he almost missed it. But he’d been hoping you’d show up. So he took a warm towel with him as he answered the door, wrapped the towel around you and pulled you in.

He didn’t let you go immediately. He hugged your cold body close and whispered, “You’re shaking, little one. What is it?”

You held onto him for dear life and said, “The thunder,” You sniffled and hugged him even tighter. “They echo in the caves down there, and… and-,”

“Shh,” He cut you off. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe here.” He said, “You need a warm bath, come.”

–

Steve left you to soak in the tub full of warm water and once you stopped shaking, you stepped out, patted yourself dry and put on clean clothes. You went back into the living area and found Steve fussing with the fireplace.

He looked as he saw you come in. And gave you a breathtaking smile. “Warm enough?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Hungry?” He asked.

“No,” You whispered.

“Come here then,” He extended a hand out for you to take. You took it and he pulled you down beside him, both of you sitting on soft rugs in front of the fire. He immediately curled a wing around you. “Here,” He said, handing you a mug filled with warm, sweet tea. He watched as you took a careful sip then let out a moan at how good it was.

You placed the mug down and snuggled up to him. He was warm, and cosy despite the muscles. You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed, pleased with where you were. His wing wrapped around you a little better, like your personal little cocoon. It was weird to admit that this felt better than being in your lake.

“What did you usually do during thunderstorms? When I wasn’t here?” He asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you so close you were almost on his lap.

“I’d hide in the caves.” You answered. “Or when I could tell the weather would be bad I’d go to the other lakes and be with my friends. But the caves are so loud, you know? I can never sleep during thunderstorms.”

Steve sighed, wrapping both arms around you. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.” He whispered. His tail wrapped gently around your exposed leg.

“I know,” You said, placing your hand on his clothed thigh. Then bravely slid your hand upwards to see if he would stop you. “I trust you, Steve.” You murmured, turning your head to kiss his neck. “And I want you.” Your lips brushed against his skin as you spoke and he shuddered.

He was quiet for a few moments. Your hand kept inching closer to the hardness in his pants. He let out a groan then said, “Promise you’ll tell me to stop if I hurt you?”

You nodded, nuzzling his neck. “I promise.”

Next thing you knew, Steve's mouth was on yours, kissing you hard and passionately. His hands grabbed and touched you everywhere, your thighs, your waist, your breasts, his tail wrapping around your ankle, it was a lot at once. You moaned into his mouth as he slid his hands along your inner thighs.

He nudged you backwards, making you lay down on the rug. He held himself up above you with one hand, while the other explored your body through the thin dress.

“Take it off,” You whined, wanting to feel his touch on your bare skin.

Steve chuckled before helping you in taking the dress off and tossing it around somewhere. Then his mouth was on your skin immediately. You arched your back, pressing up against him until he took the hint and placed his mouth around your nipple, biting down gently.

He teased you until you were an absolute mess under him, hips trying to grind against him, your hands sliding into his hair, one wrapped around his horn while the other pulled him closer to you.

He released your breasts and kissed his way down your body. You supported yourself up on your elbows as you watched him. He was so much larger than you, it shouldn’t turn you on so much. But it did. He seemed even more feral now in the golden light from the fire.

Wings flared being him, tail swishing in what you now concluded was excitement as he placed his hands on your thighs and spread them as much as they would go. He stared at the wetness in between your legs before looking up and meeting your eyes with hunger in his eyes.

“Is this alright? You want us to stop?” He asked, even though you could clearly tell he was having difficulty in holding back from ravishing you.

You nodded quickly, “Don’t stop,” You whispered.

He gave you a wild smirk, his tail wrapping around your ankle again and pining your leg to the ground. “Well, then.” He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, kissing his way up to where you craved him.

You laid back down on the rug as your body squirmed. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, long hair. Eventually grabbing onto his horns as he brought his mouth over to your clit, sucking on it hard enough to make you cry out. The feeling of his soft, warm mouth and the roughness of his stubble made you lose your mind.

His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your clit. You tugged gently at his horn, pulling him closer and he growled against your skin in response. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. You were sure your arousal must be dripping onto the rug by now.

“You taste so good,” Steve whispered. And chuckled when you let out an even louder moan at the sound of that.

You looked down and whined at the sight of his body kneeling in between your parted legs. You could even see the erection in his pants and that alone made you grind against his mouth mindlessly.

Steve chuckled, securing his arms around your thighs, keeping your legs spread as far as they would go. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds.

You shivered under his touch, then bit your lip to refrain from moaning too loudly. You sighed, then gasped audibly as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.

“Does that feel good?” He asked. And chuckled when you were only able to moan in response. “No one else is ever going to touch you like this, you hear me? This is mine. You’re mine.”

“Yes…” You gasped. “All yours.” You whispered, breathless.

He hummed in satisfaction. His deep blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch, legs shaking as he teased your clit and finger-fucked your ever so gently.

You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his addictive touch, your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

You came hard, all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger, your moans and gasps of pleasure filled the room. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his horns as you came.

You sighed in bliss as Steve left small kisses up your body until he stared deep into your eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked, so softly you almost melted.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. I want you, please,” You begged.

He smiled down at you, then pulled away only for a few moments, to take his shirt off and undo his pants. Then he was onto you again, pressing you down on the soft rug as he kissed you again. You moaned into his mouth at the taste of you on his tongue still.

He kept kissing you until you growled in frustration and arched your back to get closer to him. You could feel his erection pressing against you and you couldn’t wait anymore. “Steve,” You begged, whining against his mouth, “I might die if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He smirked against your lips, kissing you one last time before pulling away. His hand reached down to grab his cock and guide it over to your opening. You were a little nervous given his size but you were also ready for it. He slid his tip up and down your wet folds, driving you insane. And while you were in the middle of whining and squirming, he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning as he went.

The feeling was new, and it was a little uncomfortable at first but it didn’t hurt.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked with sheer desire and want in his voice, hunger in his eyes.

You gasped, feeling him stretching you out, filling you up. He was halfway in and you already felt so full of him. “No,” You gasped, “More, please.” You begged again.

He nodded, then held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist, then slowly leaned down to give you a messy kiss, sliding all the way into you finally. “Fuck,” He swore, voice cracking. “You feel so good.”

You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit. And you cried out at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you. He was being so careful and gentle with you, and while it warmed your heart, you also wanted more.

You cupped his cheek, making him look right into your eyes. “You won’t hurt me,” You said, “But I… I need you.”

He understood what you meant. Steve closed his eyes, then nodded before leaning down to kiss you again. And then he fucked you without restraints. His tail wrapping around your thigh, pulling you closer. His hands on your waist, pulling you into him each time he thrust into you. Your fingers scratched down his back until you found the base of his wings and experimented by touching them, stroking them carefully.

Steve paused, then groaned animalistically. “Very sensitive,” He murmured.

You smiled and traced your fingers along the length of his dark, leathery wings and Steve shuddered, reaching around to grab your hands and pinning them above your head before pounding into your again.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up into you. You moaned, feeling all of him stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. The thunder outside, you couldn’t hear it. The lightning illuminating the room occasionally, you didn’t pay attention to it.

This was all that mattered, being in front of a fire and under Steve’s powerful body.

“You feel so fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to kiss you again. “So warm, and perfect for me.” He growled, “Tell me I feel good inside you, little one. Tell me.”

You were barely able to form a thought. His hard and muscular body felt amazing against yours. His long hair tickled your skin as he moved. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. “Oh, you feel so good.” You mumbled, “So good, please don’t stop.”

Steve looked down at you as you clenched around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “You’re all mine,” He whispered. The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. “Are you going to come all over my cock? Hmm?”

You nodded, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. Whimpering and back arching off the floor as you came hard around his cock.

He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing.

He watched you as you went limp under him, still gasping for air. He released your wrists, kissing them before placing them on either side of your head. He gave you some time, kissing up and down your neck, kissing your face until you calmed down a little. “That was so good,” He whispered against your cheek, “You did so well. But I need to have you again,” He pleaded, “I want more.”

You nodded quickly. “I’m all yours, Steve.”

He smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth before pulling out of you. He was still very much hard as he flipped you around, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the soft rug. “Is this alright?” He asked.

You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and teased in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan. “Yes,” You whispered.

His body bent over yours, his warm chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “You tell me if this hurts, okay?”

You nodded, “I will.” You said.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, softly but you could hear the wild hunger in his deep, low voice. He licked along your neck and said, “I want you to come all over my cock again, you hear me?” He bit down on your shoulder and you let out a loud moan.

You whimpered, “Yes.” You murmured, voice laced with need and lust as he pulled away from your ear and kissed along your shoulders. Then you felt his hands on you as he gripped each side of your hips then pushed into you from behind. Slow and deliberate strokes, until he fit inside you fully.

He groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely and moved in and out of you desperately trying to make you come for him again. Your fingers gripped the rug beneath you tightly, and your mind felt foggy, you moaned wantonly as he pounded into you, not easing into it this time. He took you higher and higher.

Your walls throbbed and clenched around him each time he filled you up. You could feel the tip of his tail reach around to toy with your clit and it only made you lose all the sanity you had.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls violently. “Come for me.” He hissed, then grunted loudly as you tightened around him, coming undone again.

He groaned and growled as he came deep inside you, swearing under his breath. You whimpered as you felt his warm cum filling you up. Steve laid down beside you, his wing curling around both of you, like a warm leathery blanket.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yes,” You sighed. You leaned into his warmth. The thunder outside didn’t scare you anymore. “Can I stay until morning?” You asked, kissing his chest.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, and said in that deep voice of his, “You can stay forever if you’d like.”

---

a/n: check out heartless if you wanna read about Bucky and the witch ;)

#steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #mermaid!reader #steve rogers #fantasy au

629 notes · View notes

sytoran · 9 months ago

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home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries.

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile.

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas.

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila.

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him.

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically.

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells.

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie.

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls.

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly.

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair.

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?”

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art.

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily.

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?”

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.”

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair.

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts.

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely.

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly.

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot.

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from.

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest.

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness.

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air.

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response.

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting.

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself.

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure.

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes.

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange.

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader smut #top reader #sub natasha romanoff #dom reader #bottom natasha romanoff #butch4femme #butch reader #femme4butch

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years ago

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𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞

welcome to the land of fairytales, where desires you never knew you had will come true. thank you @georgiapeach30513 & @royalsweetteaa for helping me with this.

18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate my work. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

!warning! these fics will include inter-species relations, size differences, innocent kink, age gaps and dark content.

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬:

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 - pairing: prince ransom drysdale x princess reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 - pairing: prince frank adler x mermaid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 - pairing: street rat lloyd hansen x princess reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 - pairing: prince lance tucker x maid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔 - pairing: beast ari levinson, beast logan howlett, beast geralt of rivia x princess reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏 - pairing: bossy clark kent, sleazy johnny storm, dirty curtis everett, brawny steve rogers, cranky bucky barnes, tipsy dean winchester, horny sam wilson x witch/princess reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒃𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒆 - pairing: hunter lee bodecker x shifter reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 - pairing: mad hatter jefferson x dreamer reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒓��𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒆 - pairing: scarecrow jake wyler, tin-man rick grimes, cowardly lion jake jensen, oz andy barber x lost reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: hansel steve kemp, male gretel nick fowler x witch reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 - pairing: big bad wolf luke danes x little red riding hood reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 - pairing: tarzan tangerine x jane reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 - pairing: giant august walker x female jack reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 - pairing: captain hook negan, captain hook jack sparrow x tinkerbell reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: alpha bear ari levinson, alpha bear henry cavill, alpha bear lee bodecker x goldilocks reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏 - pairing: prince steve rogers x princess/swan hybrid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒐𝒉, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔… 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒔 - pairing: mermaid jennifer check, mermaid rosalie hale, mermaid jane smith x clueless reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 - pairing: mufasa ari levinson x scar sergei kravinoff (kraven the hunter) x lioness reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

#imyourbratzdollwork #a whores fairytale #chris evans fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #sam wilson fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction #luke danes fanfiction #negan fanfiction #captain jack sparrow fanfiction #jennifer check fanfiction #rosalie hale fanfiction #jane smith fanfiction #tangerine fanfiction #kraven the hunter fanfiction #sergei kravinoff fanfiction

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muddyorbsblr · 2 years ago

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the right partner

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You had no intentions of joining Stark's party, considering that your ex had just dumped you two days ago and he was already announcing his new relationship. And then along came Loki, offering to be your date for the night…

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: language (yeah no, not sorry, Rogers); little bit of steam at the end; reader w/ insecurities [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Steve is the ex; Nat & Wanda offering violence to avenge their bestie; borderline dangerous dancing stunts (don't try this at home, kids); coworkers/teammates to lovers

"Babes, stop fussing over the dress. You look hot. It's giving revenge dress if I do say so myself. Everyone covering the event will take one look at you and see without a doubt in their mind that you won this break up. Especially considering how hot your dates are."

Natasha nudged your shoulder playfully, probably in hopes of wiping the scowl off of the reflection staring back at you as you adjusted the strap of your midnight blue mermaid dress, making sure everything was secure and no unflattering angles were even remotely feasible.

Then again you could barely walk properly in the damn thing, so there really wasn't much room for awkward and unflattering, considering that you'd be able to do little more than stand and pose. You'd wanted to trade in the dress for something that gave you a bit more breathing room considering that the man that chose -- well, he'd argue strongly encouraged -- the dress was no longer your date for the night, but your choices would be stiflingly limited with how close you'd have been cutting it if you'd returned it.

Two days to break up, pack up, move your things out of his apartment in the compound, move back into your own apartment, clean up said apartment to make it at least livable once again, cry a bit, and then ready yourself for this charity ball? There wasn't time to return the dress that Steve chose, let alone pick out a new one. Even with the help of both Nat and Wanda.

"Remind me to thank Bucky and Vision for letting me steal you two away tonight?"

"Don't even worry about it. But maybe you could talk to Bucky later and tell him that there isn't even a shred of this that's his fault? He somehow got it into his head that because Steve's his best friend he should have sensed something. Should've told me. Or directly told you. He's been feeling like shit over this whole thing since I came home two days ago and told him I had to help you clean out your stuff from Rogers' apartment and move back into your old one."

Just as you were about to reassure the Russian spy that you would talk to her husband the second you got the chance to when there were no nosy reporters lurking around corners or planting microphones around the event to capture their next juicy story, Wanda walked into the room, her expression colored with a mix of pity and irritation.

"Well he might feel a hell of a lot worse now that he's seeing in real time what his best buddy's been doing since the breakup." Nausea began to swirl in your stomach as they each took one of your hands and the sorceress led you to the conference hall that had been fully decked out for tonight's event. The crowd had gathered around the dance floor, phones out and whispering amongst one another as they looked on the couple in the center.

"Oh you've got to be fucking shitting me," Nat bellowed in outrage, her hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist to ensure you were still standing straight. "You even asked him point blank about her and he brushed you off--"

"Don't worry about her, Cookie, I'm just making sure she has the best training available to her," you seethed, feeling yourself shaking in your friend's hold as you repeated Steve's words to you just last week. "Babes, I don't think I even wanna go in there. I can already see the fucking headlines. Heartbroken Avenger Y/N Y/L/N seeks the comfort of her girlfriends' company as former lover Captain America debuts his new relationship with SHIELD Agent Ava WhatsHerFace. This isn't worth it. You two go. Be with your husbands. I'm going home."

"Are you sure?" Wanda squeezed your other hand, her free arm already radiating her signature red magic. "I can trip her and make them fall flat on their asses, just say the word."

It took you a great deal to not take her up on her offer, instead opting to just squeeze her hand back before letting go, maneuvering yourself out of their hold. "I'm sure. No tripping anybody, you two. Last thing we need is the internet speculating on which sides the Avengers are taking in what they're gonna try and spin as the breakup that shocked the world, and then making these idiotic theories about how we might cause a reiteration of Germany right here in the Big Apple."

"Okay what if I just poisoned her drink no one would know it was me--"

"Babes, everyone would know it was you," you cut off the spy. "No poison. No tripping. Not even a backhanded compliment. If you really can't stand the sight of her then walk away. Otherwise Pepper will kill us over making a scene over this and I'm not even joining the damn party but she'll drag me in anyway because she's gonna figure out that you two did what you did because of me."

"You're a better woman than that little shit ever deserved," Wanda grumbled, pulling you into a quick embrace. "We'll see you after the party then? Because no way in hell are you sleeping alone tonight."

"After," you confirmed, already walking away from the two as they walked toward the bar to where Bucky and Vision were undoubtedly standing and waiting patiently for them.

You'd walked down a good few feet down the hall when a voice halted you.

"Y/N?" You inwardly groaned at the sound of Loki calling out to you. The absolute last thing you needed was the member of the team who was undoubtedly and objectively the most unfairly breathtakingly beautiful person in all of New York -- hell, in all of the world as far as you were concerned -- seeing you in the dejected state you were in.

You did your best to plaster on a half-smile as you turned to face the god. "Hey, Mischief." You threw him a cursory glance, your heart skipping a good few beats when you registered his bespoke Burnham green tuxedo forming to his sculpted body like a well-worn leather glove. "You look great."

"You're breathtaking," he sighed, walking the rest of the distance and stopping a few steps in front of you. "As you always are." He gave you a curt smile, his fingers visibly twitching in your direction as he kept his hands to his sides. "Are you not joining the gala?"

"Thinking I might sit this one out, actually," you murmured, grimacing at just how miserable you sounded to your own ears. "Considering it doing Pepper a solid and making sure that tonight's all about whatever cause Stark decided to back this time around and not about the untimely demise of me and Rogers. The last thing we need is me becoming the center of attention because the media published headlines calling me the Heartbroken Avenger because I walked in there with my friends while my ex debuts his shiny new toy." You took an awkward step back, giving him an even more inelegant wave his way. "You have fun, though, Mischief."

He took your hand in his as you were turning away from him. "What if I escorted you?" Something with his soft spoken tone, partnered with the way his thumb was stroking the back of your hand, had you struggling to take your next breath. "We could walk in together, and it wouldn't cross anybody's mind to call you heartbroken or lonely or anything of the sort."

You couldn't help but scoff at his offer. "I'm not sure you wanna take on the media vultures who'll write about you getting Captain America's sloppy seconds. Hell, if I walk in there with you they'll think you probably did it out of pity. People already paint me as someone they don't think could have pulled the likes of Steve, but if we walk in there together you'll never hear the end of how charitable you were to--"

"Stop that," he cut you off, his tone sibilant and terse as if he was slicing through your self-pity party for one. "Rogers is an imbecile, he always has been. To have held painite in his uncouth hands and traded it in for mere rubble." He took a step closer to you, making you struggle to hide the shudder than ran through you when you could practically feel the warmth of his body radiating from him. "To walk into that room with you would not be an act of charity, darling. It would be an honor. A privilege."

"Okay come on that's enough--"

"How I wish you could see yourself the way I do," he murmured, his free hand lightly grasping your chin and making it impossible to turn your gaze from him. "Come with me. We'll share a dance and afterward if you still wish to leave then we will."

"Are you insane?" you blurted out, shaking your head at how absurd his offer was. "If you walk in with me and you leave with me, you're gonna find out real quick that people actually can hate me more than they did when I was dating Steve, because now I'm preventing you from getting all the pretty girls' numbers in the party. There are supermodels in there, Mischief. Pretty sure there're some princesses, too. They came here for you."

"Then they will leave disappointed," he answered back, the corner of his mouth pulling in a smirk as he watched your brows knit together in clear confusion. "As for attaining the contact information of, how did you phrase it again? Pretty girls? I already have that of the most beguiling woman who would be in that gala, I truly need no more." He let go of your hand to reach for his phone and tap away at it to call whoever he was referring to.

A few seconds later your little purse began to ring, making you give him a pointed stare. "Smooth." Your phone stopped ringing as soon as he put his away, finding yourself fighting to breathe properly once more when he placed his hand back in yours. "Fine," you huffed. "But we're not dancing, I can barely walk in this stupid thing, the dance floor would turn into a crime scene if I so much as spun wrong."

The soft chuckle that escaped his lips filled you with a weird sense of pride, knowing that even for a few short moment the usually terse god felt comfortable enough around you to seem so unguarded. He released his hold on you to hover his hands by your waist. "May I?"

You took a moment to try figuring out what he meant before answering, "I don't know what you're asking for but alright. I trust you."

His playful demeanor faltered for a moment, eyebrows knitting together and raising slightly before he placed his hands on your waist and gently guiding you to turn and facing the mirrored wall. Your breath hitched in your throat with a squeak as his gaze met yours on the reflection, bringing his face level to yours, his lips hovering just beside your ear. "Beautiful as you are in this dress, darling, you look as if you'd been forced to conform into something you're not. You were made to move freely, as gracefully and as fluidly as you move in the field."

You held your breath as you watched his magic washing over you, your dress melting away from the shoulders down and slowly being replaced with a dark emerald silk gown that stopped just below your ankles, the skirt flaring out from the waist with a slit going up to the middle of your thigh. The feel of your hair cascading down your back had you realizing that you were so caught up in the spectacle of your dress changing before your very eyes that you'd barely felt his fingers deftly taking the pins out of your hair and undoing the tightly knotted bun that borderline violently pulled at your temples.

"Hmmm…much better." You fought against the chill that ran throughout your body at the low tone of his voice reverberating in your ear. "Just one more…tiny flourish." His hand moved from your hair to rest his fingers lightly on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, a slight smile appearing on his face in the reflection when your breathing became audibly staggered as a teardrop emerald pendant hanging off a gold chain materialized around your neck. "Himmelske," he breathed out, the vision of him lightly pressing his lips to the top of your head making your pulse pound in your ears. "Shall we?"

"This is too much…" you sighed, turning around to face him and nearly stumbling over your own feet when you saw how close your faces were to one another. "I can't possibly--"

"You can, darling." He took your hand in his again and brought it up towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, all the while his eyes never leaving yours. "You look ethereal, like a goddess walking among mortals." He pressed his lips to your knuckles once more. "Min gudinne." He began to walk backwards towards the party, keeping your hands intertwined as he led you down the hall, typing something away a quick message on his phone as the music from the repurposed conference hall gradually grew louder.

Once you were mere feet away from the doors leading to the conference hall, the old-fashioned music that made you want to retch on the spot screeched to a halt, and Tony's voice boomed through the speakers.

"Alright Cap that's enough, some of us actually don't want to see our dinner a second time tonight." The crowd began to chuckle at his joking barbs toward your ex. "Why don't you and your new babydoll take a breather for a minute. Or a hundred. While I go ahead and play on a special request for…well I'll be damned…Reindeer Games."

The sound of Tony's little nickname for Loki had you growing frigid in the god's hold. "Mischief, what did you do?"

Your question went unanswered, him opting to give you a soft smile as he lifted your joint hands up to place a tender kiss to the back of your hand before leading you to the center of the dance floor, the sound of your friends' claps and cheers -- as well as a round of hearty hollers from both Bucky and Thor -- filling the room and overpowering the piano intro of "Tightrope" by Sara Bareilles playing over the speakers as soon as you came into view.

Glares tinged with thinly veiled envious rage weighed down on you like cinder blocks as the raven-haired Asgardian placed his hand on your lower back, bringing your bodies within mere inches of one another. "Everyone's staring," you wavered, trying to keep your breathing even as he began to lead you in a basic waltz around the dance floor.

"Envious, petulant mortals," he answered with a sneer, giving you a small smirk at the end. "Likely because I have the most beautiful date among them all."

"Do gods wear glasses?" you bit back, scoffing softly at his words. "Because I'm pretty sure Adriana Lima is here and--"

"I can see quite clearly, precious mortal," he cut you off, the gentle tone of his voice not once wavering. "Better than you think." He upped the pace of your steps, the smile on his face growing wider as your steps became less structured and he raised your joint hands to spin you on the spot, your dress twirling fluidly with each step before he pulled you back to him, now chest to chest as he resumed leading you in a large circle around the floor. "You seem surprised, darling."

"I usually would have stepped on your toes by now," you whispered, your breath hitching as every step you took together felt perfectly synced, a part of you heavily dreading stumbling and sending you both into a clumsy heap on the floor. Especially with the even closer proximity of your bodies to one another. "Are you doing this?" He answered you with a slight furrow of his eyebrows. "Did you enchant the dress? The necklace? My shoes?"

"I did nothing of the sort, dear Y/N," he whispered into your ear, the feel of his breath on your skin sending your heart into overdrive. "Perhaps you'd simply been with the wrong partners all your life." You faintly registered the way his hold on you tightened the slightest bit. "I wish to prove it to you. A little flourish both for our benefit and for the entertainment of our audience."

A sequence of movements was projected into your mind, each motion requiring complete trust in your partner as you climbed over his back, held up only by your joint hands and your knee braced on his shoulder as he spun on the spot. And then capped off with a dismount that had you hanging upside down and suspended as such for a few moments before righting yourself on your feet.

"Do you trust me, darling?"

You didn't need to think twice about your answer. "Yes." He flashed a brilliant smile before twirling you away and out of his hold, turning his back to you and giving you a silent signal to execute the move. Within a few short moments you were propped up on his shoulder, held up by your joint hands and feeling as if you were flying as he executed each turn with visible ease.

The faces of the crowd, a mixture of pure shock and awe, said it all. No one on the team had ever placed that much trust in Loki, despite the countless times he'd undoubtedly saved any and all of you throughout your numerous missions together. And here you were giving everyone a blatant display that among all the members of the team, you probably trusted him the most.

There wasn't even the slightest tremble in your movement as you executed the dismount, briefly giving them all a face-splitting grin that nearly mirrored the blond Asgardian watching from the bar as he looked on at the spectacle you and his brother had created before turning back and facing your partner. The next moment he'd gone back to holding you and twirling you both around the dance floor with a slight flourish as you reunited.

"There you are, precious mortal," he breathed out, securing his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he spun you both again, the skirt of your dress billowing from the motion and creating a perfect flourish to your steps, earning you various oohs and aahs from the audience. You assumed that the bitter hmph sounds came from your ex and Miss Ava WhatsHerFace. "I've missed seeing that smile on you. It's been months too long. How I wanted to strike at Rogers' face the moment I saw the light in you wavering."

"You saw that?" You prided yourself in concealing your insecurities and the downward spiral that your mind had taken the moment that the new recruit had been assigned to train for the Avengers, painting on a bright disposition despite the interest that Steve had taken in her and the rapidly dwindling attention he paid to you in turn.

It never occurred to you that people might be looking closer than you intended them to. Or that one of those people would be someone you'd carried feelings for ever since long before you and Rogers ever even went out on the first date. You kept on guilting yourself that you were no better than him, if you were being completely honest.

The only leg up you had over your ex was that at least you did right by him and you never acted on anything. But then again you had no reason to believe that you could; in your eyes, Loki had to reason to see you, let alone return your sentiment.

"I see you, Y/N," he murmured, bringing his hand higher up your back, leaning forward, and tilting you backward in a low dip. "I've always seen you." Your heart caught in your throat as you felt him press a soft kiss to your cheek before bringing you both back up to stand upright, a new sequence of movements projected into your mind.

This time of him lifting you into the air, a hand braced on your lower back, the other wrapped around your ankle, followed by a drop that would land you safely in his arms and have the god carrying you bridal style. You could see the silent question shining in his eyes as the projected image fizzled away, awaiting your answer. "I trust you," you whispered, taking a breath as he turned you to face away from him and lifted you into the air with ease.

There wasn't a single doubt in your mind even in that split second where you were falling through the air. You knew you were safe with him. Physically at least.

Emotionally it felt like he was leading you to the edge of a cliff, and you were all too happy to step off if it meant he'd look at you even remotely like he did throughout any point of tonight.

You landed in his arms with a soft, nearly soundless thud, once again met with appreciative applause from the room of onlookers and Tony's voice once again sounding through the speakers. "Jellybean, I take back every joke I ever made about your dancing. Now I know it wasn't you that made those moves bad and that's all I'm gonna say on that. Give it up for these two one more time, ladies and gentlemen!"

A traitorous squeak from the back of your throat slipped from your lips as the god carrying you briefly touched the tip of his nose to yours and pressed a kiss between your brows before setting you back down on your feet, taking your hand in his and lacing his fingers between yours. He led you through the dance floor that was quickly becoming crowded as a rhythmic thumping beat boomed from the sound system, placing you directly in front of him with his free arm wrapped around your midsection.

Once you'd reached the bar, crossing paths with Nat and Wanda and their respective husbands as they made their way to the dance floor, only Thor remained to greet you as you occupied two seats next to one another. "Brother, elation becomes you." Before he walked toward the buffet, handing his empty plate to one of the cleaning staff, he turned to face you. "Take care of him. Actually, take care of each other."

Your brows knitted together as you watched the blond Asgardian walk away, confusion niggling away at your brain as you turned your gaze back to Loki. "What was that--"

The rest of your sentence died on the tip of your tongue as the raven-haired god cupped your jaw, weaving his fingers through your hair, as he closed the distance between you and captured your lips in a soft kiss. You whimpered against him as he stood from his seat, framing your face with his hands as he stepped closer to you, all the while his lips never leaving yours.

He breathed your name as he pulled away, the way that he seemingly sounded almost as flustered as you were paired with the restraint so evident in his hold on you creating a heady combination that made the room spin. "He never deserved you."

Those words had your eyes snapping open, wondering if you'd heard him right. "Loki what--"

"And you should have had someone that treasured you. Worshipped you. That knew with every fiber of his being that he was the most fortunate bastard in the Nine for being the one that you shared the most intimate parts of your life with." Your heart thundered in your ears as he leaned in to kiss you again. "Someone that would proudly show whoever was around to watch that he is equally yours as you are his. Perhaps even more so."

"Are you trying to tell me that that someone is you?" The music had faded away to nothing more than a dull thumping in the background as you looked into his eyes, rife with emotions that you couldn't quite place as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist, stepping closer to you, and leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple.

"If you would let me," he murmured against your skin. "He was but a fool to have let you go. But if his foolishness leads to my fortune, then perhaps I could be moved to despise him a little less." He kissed a trail from your temple to your ear, making your breath hitch again as his thumb stroked at your side and tracing the faint lines of your ribcage while he whispered a deliciously tempting offer. "Leave with me. Let me be the fortunate wretch that gets to take you home. That gets to worship you, to pleasure you. Even if only for tonight, let me make you equally mine as I am yours. As I have always been yours."

His offer alone already had you trembling in anticipation for what he could possibly have in store for you the moment you gave him your answer. "I have to find Nat and Wanda," you blurted out, making a motion to step off of your seat.

"Y/N please--"

"They offered to stop by my apartment after the party," you explained, mustering the courage to press a quick kiss to his lips when you watched in disbelief as a touch of desperation colored his features. "They wanted to make sure I wasn't going to sleep alone tonight. I have to tell them I have other plans."

A brilliant smile stretched across his face as he pulled you in for another kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pulled you against him, lifting you out of your seat and setting you back down on your feet, holding you in his arms the same way he did a few moments ago as you weaved your way through the crowd.

It didn't take you long to find the two women in question, tapping both of them on their shoulders to call their attention. "Rain check on the sleepover?" you shouted over the music.

Wanda took one look at how Loki was holding you and eyed Nat with a smirk. "You got a better offer, I see. Go, babes. We just wanted to make sure you didn't sleep alone tonight."

"Now we gotta make sure you stay awake at the mission brief in the morning because you won't be sleeping at all," Nat capped off with a raise of her eyebrow. She eyed the god holding you with a pointed glare. "If you hurt her--"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Romanoff," he cut her off. "Unlike some people in our non-immediate company, I have every intention of holding on to painite with every ounce of my strength."

Your brows once again knitted together as your friends began to squeal and giggle while you walked away with the god, the alcohol clearly beginning to get to them. "Okay I have to ask. What exactly is painite? You've…said that twice tonight," you prodded, looking up at him only to be met with a tender smile and an intensity burning in his eyes that nearly made you fall over.

"It is the rarest, most precious gemstone on this planet. Perhaps in all the realms," he answered, turning you in his arms as soon as you stepped foot into the corridor and walking you backwards until your back was flush against the wall. "And despite its crimson hue I would still say undoubtedly the most beautiful." You shuddered under his gaze as he trailed a finger from the center of your neck down your torso until he reached your waist and pulled you to him for a fleeting but heated kiss. "That is how I see you. Rare. Precious. And undoubtedly the most beautiful creature I will ever lay my eyes on."

The next moment your surroundings were awash with a wave of his green magic, and you were inside his apartment, your moans piercing the quiet darkness as his lips latched on to your neck and you felt his hands working to divest you of your dress. His next words, rasped against your skin, already had your legs shaking without him having even begun to touch you yet.

"Mine. Finally mine."

A/N: Omg I've finally finished it 😩 And he's precious your honor 🥹 I've honestly had this idea bouncing around in my head for so many days now that I'm so happy that it's finally out for y'all to read and (hopefully) enjoy.

There is a plan for a part 2 of this but it's literally all smut and it's a long ways away because I have every intention to get into 'relinquish the crown' again and also 'back to you'…and also the requests from the 500 follower celebration so just like 'sworn fealty'…it might happen, it might not happen, and that's that on that.

Translations: Himmelske – Heavenly Min gudinne – My goddess

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95

Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @infinitystoner @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes #Spotify

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rogerswifesblog · 1 year ago

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- Chapter 7 -

series Masterlist

Previous chapter

A/N: omg - yes its finally here, the next chapter:0 but its a short one! The next one will be similar since it’ll be what’s happening in the compound while Mer is gone-means; Steve’s PoV and thoughts!:D

Warnings: none! Just so you know speech in ‘>>’ means it’s in the merpeople’s language:)

Swimming through the waters made you smile. You were finally back. Finally able to swim full speed, stretching your whole tail out, just…being free again. Finally free.

You had no idea for how long you’ve been captured and what had changed. How was your family? Where did they live now? They probably moved after your capture. You moved around a lot. Every couple of years you move. What if you couldn’t find your family?

This thought scared you.

They probably really thought you were dead. You may not know how much time passed, but you could tell it was a lot. God, your sisters probably grew?

The last time you saw your family your youngest sister was only thirteen, the next was fifteen and sixteen, while you were the oldest with twenty four. At least in human years.

When you finally entered your folks territory, you could already feel something familiar.

They were here.

You felt like you always did when you were here, at home. But at the same Time there was grief, mourn.

With every inch you came closer to your house, your heartbeat quickened. It thudded in your chest like it was trying to win a race. The nervousness made it hard to breath, the tightness in your chest hard to move.

Nervousness and the feeling of stress was something you learned while being captured and with the avengers. Many feelings you hadn’t known before. You knew to be happy, angry or upset…but nervous? That’s something you had noticed people were doing. Whenever they wanted to get you out of the cage, they were nervous, stressed and uneasy. You had heard their heartbeat thudding, saw the sweat that appeared on their forehead, their sweaty palms…Also something you didn’t understand; why was the human body making water? Your body didn’t make water.

While thinking a bit about what you had learned in the time on land, you approached your home.

The merfolk watched you with big eyes as you came into view from behind the coral reefs.

You heard the sound of clicks and whistles that would mean “she’s back”, in the human language. More people swam out to greet you, seeing you after this long time, but nobody asked questions, they all let you see to your home, already suspecting you wanted to see your family. Which was true. You couldn’t wait to finally hold them in your arms and never let go.

Another merman swam to you, dressed in armor, holding up a weapon against you, before lowering it slowly.

>> you’re back…the lost Princess is back!<<

>> Yes, I’m back. I’m finally home <<

Your heart was racing while the guard led you to the castle, your home you haven’t been in since…no idea when. Would your family be happy to see you? Have they accepted your death? Or had they still hoped you’d come back one day?

You had so many questions on your mind, yet so little time to prepare for anything that would come. Even though you had imagined this moment for so long, especially in the last few days, your mind was now blank. > they missed you a lot and mourned for a long time, even though they try not to show it, they still do. The kingdom seems to be a bit…darker since your disappearance, my princess”, said the guard, placing his hand calming at your shoulder.

It was a big act of kindness and bravery, since it was against the rules to touch the royalty-but you were happy he did it. In a way this was exactly what you needed. A little reminder you were as normal as everyone else. You were someone. Not just a princess. You were a daughter, a sister, a friend…you were someone. And you were missed by everyone.

Heart racing you entered the great hall where your father and mother were sitting on their thrones. There were three more, for your sisters and you. Yours was covered by a net, signalizing your death.

The guard led you a bit closer, gently placing his hand at your back for you to swan forward, feeling how scared and nervous you were. > My king, my queen…your daughter arrived<

The king looked up, wanting to argue but his mouth stayed open when his gaze fell on you. No words coming out as he slowly straightened, a sob left your mothers lips.

As soon as you swam closer you were crushed in a tight embrace, your mothers and fathers arms wrapping around you, sounds and cries of happiness filled the room after you finally came back home. After such a long time. You could tell a few months, maybe years had passed, seeing how much your family had changed. Your dads beard had a few grays, which you assumed had happened after all the stress your disappearance had caused-and the same happened to your mom. Her beautiful hair had now a few gray strands-but she was still the beautiful woman she always was.

>Where have you been my love?<, asked your mother, cupping your face with her webbed hands, making you smile lightly as she studied your face, the small changes you had noticed yourself when looking into the mirror at the compound.

Freckles, for example. You never had freckles before and now your face was covered in the little sun kisses. You liked your freckles. Steve had some too. You liked them.

You explained to your family all about who had captured you, but left out most of the hurtful things they had done to you, how they tried to starve you out of curiosity, how long your body could keep going without food or how they had left you to die. You left all that out.

But then you started talking about the people that had found you, especially about Steve, you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your lips. Your mom noticed it too, taking your hand gently in hers, squeezing.

To your surprise your dad sobbed the most. Considering he was a king and often showed his colder side, it surprised you how many emotions he showed-which was something merpeople did rather rarely.

> this human sounds like a trustworthy one, but you’re better off here with us, my little girl< said your mother, pulling you once again into a hug, your father nodded in agreement but didn’t manage to get any more words out.

You shrugged lightly, looking up at the woman. > I know, but I’d like to-< before you could finish a loud squeak-ish sound interrupted you, making the three of you jump before two sets of arms wrapped around you once again.

> you’re alive!! I missed you so much- I’m so sorry I-< your little sister wailed, pressing her head against your neck, your other sister hugging you tight, also sobbing quietly. You couldn’t stop your own sobbs as you wrapped your arms around them. A second later you felt your parents hugging you too.

It was nice to finally be back again. You were finally back with your family. The place you had missed for so long.

And yet you felt like some part was missing.

But why? You were finally back home, right? You had everything you needed. Why did you still feel like something was wrong? Like some part of your heart was still apart.

Later that day, or rather night, you finally realized what you were missing. Laying in your coral capsule-which was like the human bed for merpeople-you realized you missed the big, cuddly blond next to you. His big, strong arms holding you close, his breath tickling your neck as he nuzzled his face into your skin, sometimes leaving some small kisses behind.

Your heart throbbed as you wrapped your arms around yourself, but it wasn’t the same when Steve held you. His warm body was always like a heavy blanket around you, his touch, his kisses…you missed it and you weren’t even that long gone.

When you finally managed to fall asleep, you were dreaming about Steve. His wide smile, the bright blue eyes, the many freckles covering his blushing cheeks, his cheerful laugh and the nuzzling against your neck…

The dreams you were having about Steve made you both smile in your sleep and when you woke up-but that smile quickly disappeared when you realized you were alone and Steve would never be here with you.

And you? Would you ever see him again? Come back to the human world?

You didn’t know. But it probably wouldn’t happen too soon.

Especially not after how the kingdom and your family celebrated taking down the net from your throne.

The lost princess was back.

But nobody knew how lost she actually felt.

You knew a part of you wasn’t with you anymore.

This little piece of your heart that you had left with Steve behind.

Thank you for reading! I hope you like it. Please let me know by reblogging and giving feedback! It makes a writer very happy:3

If you have any questions, hc, Drabble ideas, ‘what if…’-> flood my inbox!

Taglist: @jamneuromain @buckystevelove @katzvelvet @feltonswifesworld87 @mylifeispainandiloveit @kneelforloki @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bollzinurmouth @lilsiz @magnificentsaladllama

#drowning siren #drowning siren q&a #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #flood my inbox #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x mermaid reader

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marvelobsessed134 · 2 years ago

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Masterlist #1

This is my first masterlist. Second masterlist is on the pinned post in my profile

How to request, guidelines etc.

Marvel Women

Kate Bishop

Rizz You Up

Kinktober day two: Ghostface!Kate

Kinktober day eight: overstimulation

Natasha Romanoff

Caught

Little skirt

Package delivered

Watching you

Young, and dumb

Need help

GP!Beefy!Nat wakes up to you riding her abs (Drabble)

Captivity (My pretty little mermaid)

Dirty thoughts

Sundresses and breeding kinks

Wanda Maximoff

Control

Best friends sister

Julia Cornwall

In her web

Marvel Men

Bucky Barnes

Honeymoon Suite

Meet Cute

“Want me to suck your cock while driving?”

The one with the slutty maid and the sexually frustrated super soldier

Love me tender series

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

Peter Parker

Tony Stark

Mötley Crüe

Nikki Sixx

I’m only me when I’m with you

Don’t be shy, honey

Streamer!Reader headcannons

Behind closed doors

Good girl

Small town romance

Who do you belong to?

You shouldn’t be doing that…

Sneaking around

Kinktober day eleven: public sex

BDSM head cannons

Somebody’s watching me

Better? Better.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Tommy Lee

Midnight Comfort

Teenagers In Love

Runaway bride

Can we keep him!?

Friends help each other

Go team

Maroon

Little drummer girl

Sparks Fly series

Pretty When You Sleep

Plus One

Kinktober day nine: manhandling/tights ripping

Halloween party shenanigans

Attention you deserve

Surprise

Delicate flower series

First time

BDSM head cannons

It’s gonna be okay

Vince Neil

Thunderstorms

Sweet dreams

Please

It’s the little moments

Shades Of Cool

Our honeymoon (part one) part two

Kinktober day one: daddy kink

Plaything

She’s a riot grrrl

Mick Mars

Mermaid Motel

Streamer!reader headcannons

You know you want it

Kinktober day four: pet play

Multi-members

Two is better than one

Halloween/fall headcannons

Groupie Love (Gang Bang)

Cinderella (only writing for Tom and Eric)

Tom Keifer

Did you do that to her?

Up behind her with a pool stick

BDSM headcannons

“What is it, honey?”

Tom finding out you’re pregnant

Eric Brittingham

A pleasant surprise

Kiss (only writing for Paul, Tommy, and Gene)

Paul Stanley

I can see you

Underneath the surface

I fall to pieces when I’m with you

Prank call gone wrong

Teach you how

Tommy Thayer

You’re enough

One bed?!

Gene Simmons

Kinktober day 6: possessiveness

Guns N Roses

Izzy Stradlin

Kinktober day 5: handcuffs

Kinktober day 7: crying kink

Slash

Kinktober day 10: vouyerism

Barbie The Movie

Barbie

Starting to really like the real world

You can be the boss (STRLTRW part two, series masterlist coming soon)

CEO!Barbie AU masterlist

Marvel Cast/other celebrities

Sebastian Stan

Put me in a movie

W.A.S.P. (Only writing for Blackie)

Kinktober day 3: humiliation

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Domesticated

Daisy Jones and The Six

Daisy Jones

Her good slut

G!P Daisy x Stripper!Reader

LA Guns (Only Kelly atm)

Mistaken

Cindy Crawford

Picnics

Joan Jett

Our secret moments

#masterlist #fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel women #marvel men #Motley Crue #Cinderella #cinderella band #glam rock #hard rock #rock n roll

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ronearoundblindly · 9 months ago

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'Sun, Salt, and Shield' Masterlist

Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader

From completely different worlds, unable to communicate, the epitome of light versus dark...why is Steve so drawn to you?

Mini-series of drabble asks. Warnings for minor language (word-play on curses as you learn to speak) and awkward, shy Steve. More warnings on each part.

Romance 🔥 || Smut 🦆 || Angst ⛈️ || Fluff 🌼 || *** denotes work for all ages

Meeting on The Raft *** ⛈️🌼

Tony teaching you English *** 🌼

Long-distance communication *** 🌼🔥

Capturing an enemy *** ⛈️🌼🔥

Your room at the compound *** 🌼

How you feel about Steve *** ⛈️🌼

Pregnancy/Children headcanon *** ⛈️🌼

Dirty Water 🌼🔥🦆

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 4 months ago

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Hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall's Masterlist

Hello and welcome! Thanks for stopping by and hope to see you here again ;)

I am working on putting together all of my AO3 works from different accounts into here, so beat with me ❤️

I do have some rules:

No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of it. Please don’t add your additions or spin-offs to my existing story.

If the description states 18+ than please do not interact if you are under 18 years old.

I love constructive criticism - what I mean by that? Please be polite (not only here but everywhere). We are all just humans making mistakes.

English isn't my first language so please bear with me :)

You can ask me anything, If I do not wish to answer/write about something, I will let you know.

🔥- smut 🌈- fluff ⚠️ - angst

So let's get started and enjoy!

Chains of Destiny- Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Mutant F!OC ⚠️ for now later 🔥⚠️🌈 (series)

New life - Wolverine/worst!Logan x Reader 🔥⚠️🌈 (one shot)

Sweet past - Joel Miller (dbf) x Reader (series on-going) 🔥⚠️🌈

The guard till the end - Oberyn Martell x F!OC ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Fool - Sandor Clegane x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Escape - Bucky Barnes x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

I want to be with you, it is as simple, and as complicated as that - Bucky Barnes x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Love is an open door - Bucky Barnes x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Nothings ever what it seems - Bucky Barnes ⚠️ (one-shot)

I ain’t afraid of no skeleton - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Home / Home 2 - Steve Rogers x Reader 🔥⚠️🌈 (two-parter) 18+

The only B - Professor!Steve x Student!Reader 🔥🌈 (one-shot) 18+

Enough is Enough / Second Chance - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️ 🌈(two-shots)

But it’s snowing - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The first snow of the year - Steve Rogers x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Ceasg - Pirate!Steve Rogers x Mermaid!Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The PA - Tony Stark x Reader ⚠️🌈 (mini-series - finished)

I didn’t want it to be this way - Curtis Everett x Reader 🔥⚠️⚠️⚠️ (one-shot) 18+

Jealous - Geralt x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Time of War - Captain Syverson x Fem!OC (series ongoing)

Teenage Fantasy - Henry Cavill x Reader 🔥🌈 (one-shot)

The one with the Force - Obi Wan Kenobi x F!OC Medic (series ongoing)

Love isn't something you just learn, Commander part 1 / Part 2- Commander Cody x F!Reader ⚠️🔥🌈 18+ (two-parter finished)

Hope - Hunter x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one shot)

A new life / Part 2 / Part 3 - Commander Fox x F!OC ⚠️🔥🌈 18+ (three-parter finished)

Jealous - Echo x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The Fight isn't over yet - Rex x F!OC (series ongoing)

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disasterofastory · 1 year ago

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The pretty little actress of Rogers - Part 9 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

The pretty little actress of Rogers Part 9 - Gala // The pretty little actress of Rogers Masterlist Steve Rogers x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: none

Summary: A room is too small for Kent, Steve and you.

"I never saw this dress before," Kent says when he sees you leaving the dressing room. The door softly clicks shut behind you. He stands against the wall. He looks good in his dark suit and matching shirt. The watch on his wrist glint as he moves closer. "It's new," you reply. It's from Steve, but you don't tell him that. The dark green mermaid dress contours your body with a heart-shaped cleavage and tight-fitting middle. The soft satin flares below your knee into a mess that gives some extra to your appearance. "So what is it all about?" Kent asks, offering you his arm as you lead him through the hallways to the room that changed into a ballroom for tonight. "It's a small celebration they organize from time to time," you explain to him. "They invite everyone who works here and some people from the audience. You can buy a ticket and support the theater and some other organization. This year a part of the income goes to the animal shelters all around the city." Before you can reach the door, it opens, almost hitting you in the face. "Oh," Nakia gasps. "Sorry. And don't panic." "Why would I...?" You ask her, confusion written on your face, but she doesn't stop to answer you. "Is she okay?" Kent asks, looking after your friend. "I'm not sure," you hum, still thinking about her words. Why would you panic?

Steve stands at the other end of the room with one of your bosses and Sam. The suit he wears matches your dress and highlights the blue of his eyes. An easy smile plays on his lips as he says something, and the other two men laugh. Your gazes meet just for a second.

And you panic.

"Y/N," Kent says your name. "Are you alright?" "What? Yes," you gasp, eyes snapping up to your husband. "I'm fine." "I will get us something to drink," he says, nodding to one of the long tables. "What do you want?" "Whiskey." He frowns. "Since when do you drink whiskey?" You shrug. To survive the night, you need something strong.

While you wait for your drink, you scan the room to keep your eyes away from the blonde man on the other side. Your gaze slides up to the ceiling, watching the bright chandelier in the middle. The diamond-like details shine and glitter over the beautiful scenery. There are tables around the room, covered in white cloth, and candles burn on them. Soft music plays in the background, mixing with the quiet cacophony of the conversations. "Y/N," Wanda greets you with a slight panic in her voice. Your eyes widen in a warning. "I know," you tell her immediately. "Did you...?" "Of course," you scoff. "I thought, how fun it would be if my husband and the man I date would meet." "Well..." Nakia appears at your side, nodding at Steve and Kent talking with each other. "Oh god," you gasp. "I will be surprised if you get through the night without a heart attack." "Me too," you murmur, already beginning to make your way to them. And what is your plan? What will you do? Will you act like you don't know Steve? And what will he do? What if Kent finds out? Maybe a heart attack would be a salvation.

"Oh, Y/N," Kent says your name, pulling you against his side when you reach them. "Let me introduce you." "We already met before," Steve says, and you can feel your heart stop beating for several seconds. His smile is soft and polite, but you recognize the devilish glint in his eyes. He is playing with you. "You did?" Kent asks, looking at you for an answer. "Y-yeah," you croak out. You can barely speak because of the dryness of your mouth. You really need that drink. Right. Now. "I..." "Y/N!" Leila saves you from total destruction. "Leila!" You gasp out his name with too much enthusiasm. "I'm so happy to see you." You turn back to the men. Kent still waits for your answer, and Steve couldn't be more amused at your struggle. "Leila! Uhm, they are friends. Leila is my friend too." Your husband stares at you for a second before nodding. "Okay." "Yeah," you rasp. "Where is my drink?"

"What are you doing here?" You hiss at the man behind you over the brim of your glass. You are still standing at the table, trying to calm down and come up with something to get over this mess. "Sam and Leila invited me," Steve replies. You don't even have to look at him to know he is grinning from ear to ear. "Yeah," you scoff. "I'm sure that's what happened." "Why? Can't I be here?" He asks with feigned innocence. "I'm a big fan of acting. Especially when it comes to one actress." You hate that Steve can make you smile even now. "Stop it! I'm angry with you." "I have a few ideas to show you how sorry I am." "Steve..."

"How are you feeling?" Sam asks, watching his friend staring at you in the crowd. You stand next to your husband. Kent's arm is around your waist. "I'm fine," Steve hums, taking another gulp from his drink. His gaze never wanders away from you. You are beautiful. He knew you would. The dress leaves your shoulder bare, and Steve has to drink to forget the memory of your soft skin against his lips, on the tip of his tongue. "How?" Sam asks. Just the thought of Leila with another man makes the man's blood boil. He couldn't be so calm and relaxed. Steve doesn't understand himself, either. Of course, he wants to steal you away. Lifting you over his shoulder and never looking back. But there is a small voice in his mind. It's pompous and mocking. He knows the truth. And you know it too. Steve is the one you spend the weekend with. Steve is the one who fucks you so good you don't remember anything else but his name. His name only.

"I say goodbye to a few friends," you tell your husband. "I will be at the car in a moment." After a nod, Kent leaves, and you find yourself alone with your coat in your arms. "Do you need help with that?" Steve's voice is soft and quiet. You want to say no, but god, staying away from him the whole night was hard and tiring. "Please." He takes your coat away to step behind you and help it on. Before the warm fabric falls over your shoulders, you can feel his breath against your neck. "You are beautiful," he says. His kiss burns. "I don't know how I kept myself away from you." "I don't know it either," you reply. "What did you speak with Kent?" You turn around to look at him. His eyes shine with amusement. "I told him how beautiful his wife is." "You did not!" You gasp, shocked. "What? I told him the truth." You want to be angry at the man but can't find it in yourself. Being near him but not being with him took all your strength to resist. "Are you free for the weekend?" He asks. "Do you have any plans?" "Many," he says, leaning closer to kiss your lips. It's rough and demanding. Steve wants to remind you how better he is than your husband.

You accept the kiss with a quiet moan but don't need a reminder. You thought of it all night.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #mafia au #mafia!steve rogers

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smuttycentre · 11 months ago

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MASTERLIST

This list contains every story ever written by me. This also has the plans of the slashes that I intent to do.

Marvel:

Tony Stark x Male Reader

Steve Rogers x Male Reader

Tony Stark x Steve Rogers

Thor x Loki

Loki x Mobius

Star Lord x Male Reader

Star Lord x Steve Rogers

Scott Lang x Male Reader (daddy kink)

Scott Lang x Star Lord

Doctor Strange x Male Reader

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals:

THE FIRST VAMPIRE (Series)

- pt.1 Matt Donovan

- pt.2 Damon Salvatore

Stefan Salvatore x Damon Salvatore

Stefan x Klaus

Alaric x Male Reader

Alaric x Jeremy

Klaus x Elijah x Kol

Kai Parker x Damon Salvatore

Gilmore Girls:

Dean x Male Reader

Dean x Luke

Jess x Male Reader

Jess x Dean

Jess x Luke

Jess x Luke x Dean

Logan x Male Reader

Logan x Jess

Logan x Jess x Dean

Christopher x Luke

Christopher x Male Reader

Luke x Male Reader

Twilight:

Edward x Jacob

Edward x Male Reader

Jacob x Male Reader

Edward x Jacob x Male Reader

Harry Potter:

Harry x Draco

Neville x Male Reader

Draco x Male Readee

Disney/Animated:

TINKERBELL Hook x Male Reader

TANGLED Flynn Rider x Male Reader

FROZEN Hans x Christoff

BIG HERO 6 Tadashi Hamada x Hiro Hamada (aged up 18+)

THE LITTLE MERMAID Prince Eric x Male Reader

HSMTMTS EJ x Ricky

HSMTMTS EJ x Ricky x Male Reader

House of Anubis:

Fabian x Male Reader

Fabian x Eddie

Victor x Male Reader (kinky but could work)

Every Witch Way:

Jax Novoa x Male Reader

Jax x Daniel

OTHER:

HAIRSPRAY: Link Larkin x Corny Collins

HAIRSPRAY: Link Larkin x Male Reader

HAIRSPRAY: Link Larkin x Corny Collins x Male Reader

9-1-1: Bobby x Male Reader

9-1-1: Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz

HIMYM: Ted x Barney x Marshall

DOCTOR WHO: Matt Smith x Male Reader

Matt Smith x Rory x Male Reader

Matt Smith x Rory

Matt Smith x David Tennant

David Tennant x Male Reader

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rogerswifesblog · 2 years ago

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- Chapter 6 -

A/N: Tbh I wanted to wait a bit longer with posting it, but I couldn’t😆 I always have the need to post everything I write asap lol

I hope you’ll enjoy reading, please interact and leave some feedback!<3

Series Masterlist

Previous chapter

……….Swimming with your little sister, you saw something shimmer in the corals, immediately grabbing your attention. Grinning you grabbed the pretty necklace, gently removing it from the coral it was stuck in.

It was so pretty! So shiny. Perfect for a gift to show your sister how much you loved her. Swimming closer to her, you signalized her with your calling, that you were approaching here, to not scare her accidentally. Putting the necklace around her neck, she brushed her nose against your cheek, thanking you for the gift.

Before you two could enjoy the happiness surrounding you, a shadow covered your silhouettes leaving you in darkness.

Looking up you recognised the underside of a…ship? Yeah, that was the right term. A ship. Or boat. You’d heard people say that. And you weren’t allowed to be this close to them. Not unless they were sinking-but this ship looked very new and working.

An uneasy growl arose from your chest. Your sister recognised it as danger, looking up and gulping, when the ship came to a stop right over your heads.

You signalized your sister danger and to swim as quickly as possible, wanting to do the same -but a sharp, blinding pain shot through your tail, stopping you from moving further but when you looked at your tail there was… a hole? Blood. There was blood, a wound but you didn’t understand why, not knowing you had been shot. Never having seen that kind of injury before.

Not being able to move your tail anymore, a heavy net was thrown into the water trapping you but at least your sister was safe. You signalized your sister to go home, not looking back. Never looking back again. Just making it home safe. It’s all that mattered.

Shortly after the net was pulling you out of water.

That's the last time you saw your sister. This day was the last time you saw your family for a long, long time…

…pain shot up your arm like fire (not that you knew what that was). You hissed quietly, trying to bite the man in the white coat who was injecting you with something. Even more pain. It exploded in your head with a blinding whiteness. It made you dizzy. It was all so much……

…….They had put you in a small tank, to inspect you. Like an animal, watching your movements and ability to breath under water which they were very interested in and how it worked. If there was another possibility for you to breath underwater; without using your gills.

…metal covered your mouth and your whole throat -your gills, making it impossible to breathe through these. The muzzle was fitting like a glove, like it was made for you… maybe it was? It just fitted too well to be a coincidence.

You hammered with your fists against the glass, trying to free yourself, to pull down the mask -anything.

You couldn’t breathe with it on.

You were drowning.

Steve woke up with a loud gasp, looking to the side where you moved and whimpered in your sleep. This wasn’t just a nightmare. These were memories.

But not his.

Gently he leaned over you, shaking your shoulder trying to wake you up. “Mer -wake up. It’s a dream. Mer-“ A sharp pain made him gasp when your crawls broke the skin there, making blood immediately run down your forearm.

You seemed to not recognise him at first -he had seen this before. Bucky's nightmares were similar. He never recognised where he was at first. “It’s okay. It’s Steve. We’re in the compound” he tried to remind you, taking your arm from his shoulder.

It helped. You gasped, pulling away from Steve and pushing him away from you, looking down at your bloody hand. “Oh Steve -sorry -sorry” you hiccuped, feeling immediate tears run down your face while you hid your face behind your face.

It broke Steve’s heart seeing you like this. Slowly he took your hands in his, ignoring the dull pain in his shoulder with every movement. “It’s okay. Come here -it’s okay. Come here. Cuddles, okay? You like cuddles” Steve said softly, pulling you closer into his chest

You let head fall against his chest, sobbing into his chest, breathing in his scent. It calmed you a bit but Steve could feel you shaking either way, probably still worked up from the memories and nightmares.

Steve gave you a gentle kiss on your head, stroking over your hair while he squeezed your hand lightly. “ ‘m sorry, Steve” you whispered, slowly lifting your head up and nuzzling your nose against his neck, smelling the blood from the wound that was close to his neck. You whined apologetically. “So sorry…” Steve shook his head, hearing your words. “I don’t mind. You had very bad dreams. It’s okay. I’m glad you’re awake now and don’t… don’t see that stuff anymore.”

Slowly you pulled a bit away to look at him, pulling your eyebrows together. “You see?” You had heard once about that …a bond allowing two people to see if the other was in distress, a bond between two people that loved each other. Between people meant to be. But you had never expected it to be real in that way. You always thought it allowed to feel or maybe suspect a feeling or something similar but… that… that was a lot. Wow.

“I saw it, yes. And I’m so sorry… your sister… what happened at hydra… the muzzle… god I’m so sorry they did that to you” he mumbled, “I’m sorry they… they made you drown” Steve didn’t know how to react, besides holding you close.

You sighed against Steve’s neck, sniffing quietly. Everything felt so long ago. You couldn’t remember when exactly you’d seen your family the last time.

“Steve, movie please?” you asked, wanting to get your mind off these awful nightmares and memories.

Without needing to say anything Steve put on a Disney movie, something that would make you happy (and probably ask about a lot of stuff which he didn’t mind. He liked your curiosity.)

For a moment you nuzzled your face into his neck, gently nibbling at his pulse point, making Steve gasp quietly. Goosebumps erupted over his skin while he pulled you a bit closer, doing the same to your skin and gills. You whined quietly which sounded similar to a moan. Steve licked one last time over your skin, before pulling away. A big and flustered grin on his lips.

“Yhm… movie, we wanted… to watch a movie” he whispered.

You bit your bottom lip, scratching over his throat. You’d love to take your mind with other stuff than just a movie… but he was right. Besides… it wasn’t the right time.

Nodding you looked at the TV, even though you couldn’t keep your eyes open for long. Not with Steve holding you so close, hearing his calming heartbeat… the warm embrace…

You fell asleep.

This time there were no dreams or nightmares. You felt very rested the next time you woke up in Steve’s arms.

“Mm…. Steve, Food?” you sighed, sitting up and watching the blond doing something with the small weird device called phone. A smile crept over his face while he looked at your sleepy eyes. “Yes, sweetheart, let’s get some food.”

You didn’t bother changing into your clothes, just staying in Steve’s big shirt and sweats. He watched you amused while you tripped a bit over the legs of the sweats, always scoffing at them when this happened. Steve followed you to the kitchen where you opened the fridge. “Wait, sweets, let me help you” hearing Steve voice you looked up at him, a small smile on your face. „Yes, Steve help.“

First he took your hands in his, making you hold them out for him while he rolled up the sleeves. He noticed your skin was a bit drier than on the first day here. Did living as a human affect your skin? He really hoped not but maybe it would be better for you to go back. For your health and probably also your mental health…

It would be better for him too. So he would fall for you (not more than he already did.)

“Okay, now the pants” with that he kneeled before you, taking your ankle gently and letting you slowly put it on his knee. The fuzzy socks made him grin when he rolled up the legs of the sweats.

“Part of me wants to ask what you’re doing, Capsicle but the other part doesn’t want to know '' said Tony, walking into the kitchen… in yesterday's clothes. Which was normal for him, he often worked through the night.

Steve sighed. “Pants are too big” you answered quicker, pointing at Steve who was rolling up the other leg. Tony’s eyebrows nearly shoot up to his hairline. “And why are you wearing his clothes, little fish?”

You scoffed. “I’m no fish. And no little” you mumbled, letting your gaze linger on Tony’s body, then looking back to Steve and again to Tony. “You little, look Steve big… so big…” the last words were whispered more to yourself while you rubbed Steve’s shoulder, since he was still kneeling before you.

God, he was really big… and strong… such a good provider. He’s a good mate. He’d be perfect to take care of a family.

Tony’s grumbling about something made you look up while Steve tried not to grin, even though he felt blood rush to his cheeks, probably making him blush furiously.

His chest felt a bit tight -in a good way -maybe more like… a tingling? He just felt really great. Kinda proud, knowing you thought he was big and strong. Maybe he could impress you during training? He could let you come with him, watch him-

He had no idea where that kind of thinking was coming from.

While you made yourself a toast -Steve was proud you had already learned to do that. It took Bucky longer to figure it out-and drank orange juice, Steve told Tony about your family. Or at least what he knew from the dreams you showed him.

“We should get her back -bring her to the waters. Back to her real home” Steve sighed, rubbing his hands over his face while they sat down at the table.

Tony watched as you filled two cups with coffee and put them down in front of Steve and Tony. Both men smiled and thanked you quietly while you nibbled on your toast.

“When would you like to do it then? We could maybe talk to the others-“ “today -or tomorrow -I don’t know. As soon as possible” interrupted Steve, pulling at his hair lightly.

You could tell Steve was in distress, grabbing his hand gently from his hair and pulling it closer to your lips, gently biting into his skin. Not enough to break the skin or for it to be painful. Just to give him comfort. At least that’s what you’d normally do to your mate in a stressful situation.

Steve smiled at you for a moment, cupping your face but letting go of you again and looking back to Tony, meeting his gaze.

Tony understood what was going on -he had already thought something was going on between Steve and you. “Are you sure about that, Steve?” this time his question was quieter, voice softer. A face he only showed rarely.

Nodding Steve took his hand from your face and stood up. “I’ll tell the others. Everyone should be able to say goodbye” said the blonde, leaving the room.

You watched after him, a pout on your lips. “Steve sad?”.you asked quietly. Tony nodded, sipping at his coffee.

Wanting to take your mind off Steve he pushed the other coffee to you. “Have you tried coffee before?” “No? I try” Tony grinned.

The face you made was worth taking a picture.

A couple hours later you were in one of Tony’s cars (which ended with you scratching the leader seats), fidgeting with the sleeve of your (Steve’s) sweater, being nervous but also happy about going back to your family. Your eyes were glued to the window, watching the people, lights and buildings. There was so much happening outside.

Somehow Steve seemed as nervous as you were. There’s also something else behind his eyes but he tried to hide it. That’s also why Bucky decided to drive the car. Besides, he wanted to say goodbye properly. In the time you were with them you really sneaked into his heart. Especially seeing how happy you made Steve.

“Oh Bucky cat!” you squeaked pressing your nose to the window, trying to see more of the cat that was walking on the sidewalk. Bucky looked back at you through the rearview mirror, a smile creeping onto his lips. God, he’d miss watching you play with Alpine. Alpine doesn’t like many people but you? This little furball loved you. “It’s a very nice cat. But Alpine is prettier, right?”

Immediately you nodded furiously. “Alpine prettiest!” Bucky laughed at your words, looking at Steve from the side for a moment. “What do you think, pal? Alpine prettiest?” Steve’s mouth twitched to a smile, even though Bucky could tell it was more of a sad smile than anything else. “Yes, Alpine is beautiful.”

You tried to move a bit forward, being held back by the seat belt which you hissed at again. (It wasn’t easy to convince you to close it.) “Steve sad?” you asked, putting your head against his seat.

He smiled at you, grabbing behind him to gently rub your calves. “No, sweetheart. I’m fine, just… I’ll miss you. That’s all” he sighed. It’s not like he could tell you he wanted you to stay. Or that he loved you.

“I’ll go back, home.” Steve knew what you meant. You wanted to go back home and he wouldn’t held you back. Not because of his silly feelings.

(He did, in fact, not understand it correctly. You misused a few words, again. Instead of saying you’d come back home, you sounded more like you wanted to go home. Steve had no idea he was your home now.)

You took his hand, squeezing gently. “Steve home. Always home” he knew you’d choose home over him. Who wouldn’t?

Bucky stopped the car and you all stepped out (with Steve helping you open the seat belt.) Excited you started looking around, especially when you finally heard the water. With bright eyes you looked back at Steve. “Steve, Steve, Steve!” you laughed, running quickly to the water but before you could step into it, you stopped.

“Steve, Bucky come to water” you grinned walking a step into the sea, only so your ankles were wet. Both men came closer making you take another step but Steve quickly grabbed your hand. “Wait let’s… let’s say goodbye okay? I want to hug you” he whispered, already pulling you against his chest. You smiled into his muscles, closing your eyes.

Steve felt his heart clench. Did you want to just go like this? Without even looking back at him? He knew he wasn’t really important to you but… this little? It hurt.

But maybe this was the right thing to do.

Just rip off the bandaid. Quick and painless. (Very painful actually.)

Letting go of you, you quickly also pulled Bucky for a hug. Sighing he put his head on your shoulder. It would be so sad to never see you again. Or see you with Steve, sitting in his lap, giggling…

“We’ll miss you, Mer”

After he released you, you took a step back, turning to go into the water -but then you looked back at Steve. Within seconds you were on him, pulling him close against you and pressing your lips, a bit more forceful than necessary, against his. He kissed you back, pulling you even closer against him.

His heartbeat quickened while his whole body felt like it would explode from all the tingling. God, he had no idea how he’d make it without you. It’s like… it’s like he couldn’t breathe without you. Like you were the-

When you pulled away, a quiet whine escaped his lips, making you giggle. “Steve home” you whispered, making him nod slowly. He felt tears fill his eyes and threatened to fall. “Yeah, home… you should go to your family. Be happy…” he whispered, kissing your forehead a last time.

You pulled your eyebrows a bit together. Why was Steve so sad? You’d be gone for a bit but you’d come back?

“Now go, sweetheart. I hope you’ll find a nice treasure or something on your way home” he tried to joke, making your lips twitch to a grin. Oh he wanted a gift! He wanted- you immediately nodded your head.

A few minutes of having a hard time letting you go, Steve took a step back. But before you could really walk into the water you took off the clothes you were wearing, throwing them at the both men. (Both men blushed a bit seeing your naked form which you didn’t even try to cover. It even seemed like you were pretty happy with taking off the pants)

When you were in the water past your hip, you dived into the water.

After a few seconds a figure jumped out of the water. With a beautiful, grey-blue(ish) tail, looking much healthier than when they first saw you.

Quickly you came up one more time, waving back at the two men standing at the shore before diving under the water.

The last thing the soldiers saw was your tail, shooting out of the sea and splashing water.

Then you were gone.

And Steve heard something crack, deep in his chest.

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sarahowritesostucky · 7 months ago

Text

📖The Captain and the Rake

Rated: Mature

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 7338

Tags: historical romance, regency time period, slavery, racism (not from Steve of Bucky tho), period-typical attitudes, prejudice, mermaids, curses, internalized homophobia, historical fantasy drama, prostitution, period typical race relations and terminology ("colored," "mixed," and "black" are used)

Summary: After receiving a large inheritance, Steve must travel to the West Indies to figure out the origins of a mysterious letter.

(Regency manips made by @amarriageoftrueminds)

A.N. This fic was originally for the Stucky historical fiction event in 2023. I never was able to finish due to injury, but thought I'd brush it off for Mermay this year. This fic contains subject matter to do with the trans-Atlantic slave trade, so please heed the tags as they are updated each chapter. Racial descriptors used in this fic include: colored, black, and a couple instances of negro. I did my best to balance historical realism without getting too offensive to the reader.\ The name "Alva" was chosen before I knew about Alba, I swear to God 😂

Chapter 1. A Great and Grievous Rumbling

Steve emerged from his stateroom when a knock came at the door and a gruff voice called out, “We’ll be makin’ port within the hour now, Capt’n!”

Thank goodness.

He’d been queasy the entire trip, ever since they’d first sailed from Charleston and the rocking of the boat set into his bones. Storms had delayed their progress halfway through, and the closer they got to the equator, the more unbearable the underdecks of the ship had become. As a paying passenger, Steve was afforded small but tidy accommodations, and Captain Odinson had merrily invited him to explore the ship at his leisure, but Steve had been reticent to engage with the crew. They seemed … not distrustful of him, per se, but perhaps disdainful. In the way that men with hardened hands often disdained men with soft ones. One look at Steve, and they’d made up their minds about him being a spoilt “fancy man.”

Steve could concede that he was a comely fellow, with short, fair hair and uncommonly bright blue eyes. He sported a strong jaw and handsome nose, but his mouth had always struck him as a bit too feminine, and his eyelashes didn’t help the matter. He kept no beard, and was better groomed than the men on Odinson’s crew. Tack on the fact that he dressed in the fashion of his peers, and he supposed he might seem a bit foppish to a bunch of hard worn, seagoing men. But his body was tall and strong, towering over most other men back in New York by several inches at least.

That didn’t seem to make a difference to the crew, who’d readily laughed at a man whose constitution was weakened by seasickness. Steve had kept to his cabin, reading what little he could in between bouts of nausea. To be called up to set his eyes on land was a mercy. He was relieved that the journey was almost over.

Steve emerged above deck and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, the fresh air a tonic to his mood. It was late into the day now, the storms having swept away all traces of cloud cover. The tradewinds came in sharp and brisk, filling the ship’s sails and propelling them closer to the coast. Seeing the dark shapes of mountains swelling in the distance, Steve felt immense gratitude for land, and even greater excitement for the unknown. Nervousness, sure, it wasn’t all pleasant business that brought him halfway across the world. But he’d been going crazy back in New York. The pleasantries and mundanalities of society life having been twice as stifling after coming back from the war—and thrice as much since his inheritance. It’d been time for a change.

“Got yer sea legs now, Capt’n Rosewater?” one of the younger cabin boys snickered as he passed by.

Steve waved him off with a gamely scowl and continued towards the port bow. He held firm to the banister and looked out at the churning waters below, then up to the land ahead. It was still too far away to make out all the details, but as the next few moments brought them closer, he could see more and more of the island: masses of trees and distant green hills, mountains beyond that, the white tops of breaking surf at the edges of the inlet, and then increasingly jewel blue tones of water that bled from pure azul, to aqua, to sparkling green in the shallows. It shocked Steve, how beautifully colorful it all was in comparison to the dull, muddy waters they’d left behind in Charleston.

They sailed past a bar of land on the starboard. It jutted out far into the ocean, curling in like an arm, as if to cradle the ships come into harbor. Steve caught sight of stone ruins poking out of the water and strained to try and see more. Captain Odinson and his quartermaster—an imposing and impressive man named Heimdall—had spent their second evening at sea consoling Steve over his embarrassing queasiness, offering him drink and telling him fairy stories of the sunken pirate city of Port Royal. Standing in the just-setting sun, Steve had to squint to see. There appeared to be something left of the old town out on the sandbar, but not very much. Most of it must be underwater, Steve thought with disappointment. Earthquakes tended to do that. It sure didn’t live up to any of Odinson’s stories.

The sun was close to setting as they drew in, other ships in the harbor floating nearby with increasing frequency. There was one particularly massive frigate on the portside as they sailed, perhaps fifty yards away, and Steve noticed some of the crew shooting it dirty looks. He turned to watch as they passed. The other vessel was moored in place. It had thick, old rails with weathered paint up top and a pitch-blackened hull below, barnacles creeping far up the sides. No sails were rigged and no crew was visible, yet as he stood there, Steve began to hear something faint.

At first he thought he’d only imagined it, or that perhaps some of Odinson’s men were below deck, hauling heavy things about in their preparations for docking. But the sound came again, and Steve felt a chill on his skin as the sound grew unnaturally, filling his ears and consuming his senses to the exclusion of all else. Louder and louder it became, until he could feel it reverberating in his head, like the inside of a conch, like a pulse. Leaning harder against the rail, his fingers gripped the wood as he listened to the sound.

It was coming from the other ship, not theirs.

Steve glanced about, but none of the crew were paying attention. It was as though they couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t understand how that was possible, as the sound swelled to a grievous rumble that made his heart beat faster in fear. It sounded like a … like a machine, like some great and groaning monster was inside the belly of the other ship, producing a deep and steady pounding. Steve hadn’t a clue what on earth could make such a noise. They’d already passed the ship by, so the sound should be fading, not growing louder. It didn’t make any sense. Steve stood there, aghast and locked in place.

Until a hand clapped down on his shoulder from behind, and he all but jumped out of his skin. The roaring was sucked clean out of his ears, immediately replaced by the usual cadence of wind and boat deck chatter as Steve whipped around and blustered over the embarrassing yelp he’d given. “Oh! Quartermaster!” He straightened himself. “Um, forgive me. I didn’t hear you approach.”

The quartermaster’s eye twinkled as he stepped up to join him. His name was Heimdall. He’d seen where Steve was watching the other ship. Together they stood at the rail and observed the island that lay ahead of them. “That, back there,” he said, referencing the frigate.

“Yes,” Steve said, not quite wanting to look over his shoulder at it anymore. “What was that?” He meant the monstrous sound of it, but had an odd and chilling suspicion that he’d been the only one who’d heard the noise. “The ship,” he said. “Didn’t you … didn’t you hear it?”

“Hear what?” Heimdall peered at him strangely. “The Hannibal. A Guineaman, godforsaken craft.” When he could see that Steve didn’t understand the scorn in his voice, he told him, “That’d be one of the old slave ships, Captain.”

Steve felt his stomach drop out. “O-Oh?” Heimdall nodded. All of a sudden it seemed that he was doubly as black—and Steve doubly as aware of it. He bit the inside of his cheek as he wondered if Heimdall knew his business on the island. Steve had mentioned his inheritance to Captain Odinson, but no one else on the ship. He wasn’t exactly proud of it, and he hadn’t wanted word to get ‘round that he was a slaveholder. Assumptions might be made. No one here knew his character or his intentions, after all. Nobody knew about Sam, or Hamilton House back home in Brooklyn, or that Steve’s aunt in Utica often mailed him back issues from her subscription to the Emancipator. Steve frowned at the distant shoreline, resisting the urge to twist his fingers into his ears. They still held the echo of that phantom sound. “Ships like that still sail?” he asked. “How?”

“Sugar, molasses, rum.” Heimdall shrugged. “For less profit.”

Steve wasn’t an idiot. He knew how all three of those things were produced: sugarcane. He now owned a large plantation of the stuff. “I see,” he said stiffly. “Do you know what’s brought me out here, then?”

Heimdall looked over at him, and for a tense moment, Steve thought he’d say yes, but then the quartermaster’s mouth twitched up in a smirk of gentle disdain. “You’re from New York,” he drawled. “Only two things’ll bring a gentleman American out to this edge of the world: money, or a powerful need to run away from something.”

“Run away,” Steve murmured, thoughts instantly veering to the genteel form of Miss Alva Barclay. He fought not to wince. He wasn’t running, and certainly not from her. “Yes,” he said, wetting his lips as he realized that he could relax once again, because Heimdall had no ill opinion of him. The man obviously didn’t know. So, Steve joined him in staring ahead peaceably, watching as the edge of the world drew into clearer relief.

“Jamaica at last!” Captain Odinson arrived happily at Steve’s side and threw his hand out at the town and the docks below. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just as I said!”

No matter the topic, Odinson always seemed to say everything with a boom, his enthusiasm infectious. Steve nodded in agreement. “Indeed.” Even in the day’s waning light, everything seemed brighter here. Steve had never once seen an entire building painted egg yolk yellow. “I knew it would be warmer here, but not like this. I’m afraid my trunk won’t be suitable for such a climate.” When they’d departed Charleston, it had only just turned November. Now all he could see were palm trees and folks dressed in light cotton clothes or even with no shirts on at all. “Incredible.”

“Indeed. You may find your New York winters more difficult to bear, once you return.”

Steve grimaced, remembering the past two winters and how exceptionally harsh they had been. When he’d departed for Charleston, there’d already been snow on the ground in New York. One of the crew members called out to the Captain, and he excused himself from Steve’s company. Steve decided to remain where he was until the work of unloading the ship died down a bit, as he didn’t want to be in the way. He spent the time watching the docks below, fascinated by the scenery.

Despite the unsavory nature of his inheritance, Steve was still very excited to be in Jamaica. Already it seemed amazing, and he’d only stood there on the ship looking at the ruddy docks, not even yet ventured into the town! He took in all the action of the street: carts and chickens and sailors cursing at one another. There was so much green. The forest beyond seemed lush and dense, the wilderness of it curling in at the edges of the town and creeping to fill up empty spaces. And oh, with the sunset just beginning to cast its colors, Steve’s fingers itched to find a paintbrush. The people bustling about were of such variety and comport that he instantly knew a day in Kingston could never be dull.

There were far more people of color than Steve had ever seen in one place. The ship captains and many of the crewmen were white, but not all, and out on the street there were many colored merchants and dockworkers. Groups of black and mixed-race children loitered about, looking hopeful for either mischief or play. Steve inhaled deeply, figuring that he’d continue to feel odd and out of place no matter what he did, but certain that he’d feel better once he’d visited his solicitor.

Mr. Coulson was due to arrive on the island within the week. Steve had corresponded with him before he’d departed from New York. Coulson had been to the West Indies many times, and had suggested they arrange for their travel schedules to align. He was the one who knew the most about Steve’s property in Jamaica, as he’d worked for and been closely acquainted with Steve’s late uncle, back in England. Steve hoped that Coulson would be there soon, as this was far from a leisure trip for him.

Coulson had warned Steve that there would be numerous steps to take, both legal and practical, before his end goal for the estate could be achieved. Nothing would be done in a day, little in a fortnight. It would take time, and both men had agreed to make themselves available on the island for not less than two months—and more, if need be. Steve himself had half a mind to winter over here and not return to New York until the spring.

It took a while before the ship was fully unloaded. Steve disembarked and stood by his trunks as he waited for his ride. He was to be picked up by a man from the estate, so he kept an eye out for anyone who might be looking for him, and in the meantime bought a sweet bread from a street vendor and sat eating it next to his luggage. Wiping his hands clean, he reached into his breast pocket and retrieved the letter which he’d received in the post several months ago—the letter that had started this whole journey. He unfolded the paper and read the words that he all but knew by heart, at this point:

꘏ Mister Steven Rogers, I hope this letter finds you well, and I send my condolences for the loss of your uncle. We are not acquainted, and indeed I’m sure you’ve never so much as heard my name spoken in conversation, as I have not spent time in New York in many years. I am writing in regards to what is going on at your property here. As I am sure you are aware, since the passing of your relation, Mr. Charles Cleland, the house of Shield Hall and all of its materials, peoples, and lands have come into your possession. As a fellow landowner on the island, I feel it is my duty to inform you that the operation which your uncle upkept in his lifetime has quickly deteriorated into a state of chaos and disrepair. The property is currently being mismanaged by several hired men, none of whom are keeping care of their charges, the land, or the profits that the land is meant to yield. Since this property is part of your estate, and your estate pays these very men’s wages, I felt I should write you. There is a great manor house which sits functionally abandoned, with hardly a single man watching over it day and night. Vagrants have had to be chased away more than once. Your working men and women number close to two hundred, and they all have been treated harshly and unfairly by the overseers, often deprived of suitable conditions. The harvests of this past year were summarily affected by these happenings. Word of the disorganization and abuse has reached many in the community already, and rumors abound of the great discontent brewing amongst your slaves. I have received only general description of you from my aunt in New York, but am sure that you are a fine man and will agree with me that it is our Christian duty to treat all of God’s children with dignity and fairness, including the negro man in bondage. I urge you to come at once and see for yourself, for only then can things be put right. Your respectful neighbor, J. Buchanan ꘏

Steve blinked down at the page, looking once more at that elegantly scrawled name: J. Buchanan. Only an educated and moneyed man would have such excellent penmanship, lending credence to the writer’s claims of who he was. But the letter was signed only with “J. Buchanan,” with no other identifying information given. It had arrived several months ago, posted from Kingston, Jamaica, but with no return address. Its author claimed to be a fellow landowner and wrote “neighbor” as his salutation, but when Steve had looked at records of land holdings on the island, he’d found no history of a Buchanan family.

Still, the stranger had thought the situation serious enough to contact Steve, and so whether the letter’s claims were true or not, Steve felt he should investigate. That was the only respectable thing to do, since it was his property now. The very land that made him rich.

That in itself was still novel. Steve had never owned much of anything, other than his house in Brooklyn which he’d inherited from his mother. He’d grown up privileged but not overly so, within the bounds of New York Society but never pursued the way that more moneyed gentlemen were. That had all changed once his uncle had passed and word got out that Steve now owned a large sugar plantation and all of the wealth that came with it. He’d spent the past twenty months fending off eager mothers and their daughters. Two seasons’ worth of balls, courtships, and fripperies had been useful in warding off the loneliness, but they were exhausting at the end of the day.

And then there was Miss Barclay, who was one of the many ladies being continually foisted upon him. Though she was the most agreeable, Steve still felt that his lungs could take in twice the amount of oxygen now that he knew he was a thousand miles away from her—an ungenerous sentiment, perhaps, but nonetheless true.

Steve hadn’t yet spent much of his newfound fortune, the habits of a widowed spendthrift mother having been ingrained in him since boyhood; but the one thing he had indulged in, was the singular luxury of a private box at the opera house. A veritable bidding war had commenced when the next box over came up for sale not long after. That was how Steve had gotten to know Alva over the arias of Fidelio and Silvana, her mother always looming nearby like a hawk searching out prey.

Though Steve enjoyed Miss Barclay’s company as well as any other lady’s, it’d been months of these not so subtle overtures, and he feared he would soon wind up engaged if things continued on the way they were. Traveling to Jamaica now, he’d narrowly avoided the crux of this year’s winter season. It was his hope that this sojourn would send the message of his disinterest without him having to actually turn the poor girl down. Steve was only twenty-eight, after all. He wasn’t ready for all of that.

Both his solicitor in New York and Mr. Coulson in London had told him not to worry about the details of his inheritance and the running of the estate in Jamaica, insisting that others were handling it and his bank account would remain well-padded without any direct interference. “Nasty business, sugar,” Coulson advised, pointing out that Steve’s late uncle hadn’t visited the island himself in decades. It was a common arrangement that absentee landlords would hire competent men to manage the operations of their plantations. The hired men at Shield Hall would continue to do so, Coulson had assured, whilst Steve continued to reap the benefits. Steve had believed it for a time, and had been sufficiently distracted by the demands and complications of his sudden shift in New York Society. But as soon as the letter from J. Buchanan had arrived, everything had changed.

Steve couldn’t ignore “the slave problem” anymore, and he had the exact excuse he needed to make a quick escape from the burgeoning weight of high society and all its expectations of him. He was grateful to J. Buchanan, whoever he was.

Carefully, he refolded the letter and tucked it back into his breast pocket. J claimed that conditions at Shield Hall were abusive. Steve couldn’t fathom a reason for a stranger to fabricate such a story. So here he was to see for himself. He was absolutely dreading it.

“There you are. Ha, I’d thought we’d lost you!” Steve looked up and saw Odinson approaching from across the cobblestone in long strides. “We’re nearly finished,” he said, eyeing up Steve’s luggage approvingly. “You pack light for a gentleman. You must have a sense of adventure!”

Steve gave a good-natured grimace. “I’d have said not, nineteen days ago, and yet here I stand.” He illustrated his meaning by looking about the wharf. Not even away from the docks yet, and already he’d seen a parrot with more colors in its feathers than any single living thing in Brooklyn. He scratched behind his ear. Life had been in color before, hadn’t it? Surely, New York wasn’t as dull and gray as his memory was now painting it. He said as much to Odinson, who agreed and noted the closest building’s bright coral stucco. That was when Steve caught sight of a crewmember lugging out his crate of painting supplies. “Oh! Over here! You can put that one just here. Thank you.” When Odinson raised an eyebrow, Steve explained, “Well, my easel and things. I paint. A bit.”

“An artist! Good for you.”

Steve blushed, but he could tell that Odinson meant no harm. Other men in Steve’s life had contrived plenty more obvious ways of telling him that it seemed foppish and silly for a man of his status to spend so much time on such a frivolous hobby. “Yes,” he agreed. “Subjects will be in no short supply, in this place.”

Captain Odinson bid him farewell once Steve’s helper arrived and made himself known. A large and competent man named M'baku had come from the estate with a carriage. Steve shook his hand and M'baku looked at him sternly and then announced that he would be Steve’s man whilst in town. (Steve feared that he might also be his property, but hadn’t yet gotten up the courage to ask.) “Erm … shall we be off?” he asked.

M'baku took the lead and indicated the carriage. He gruffly refused Steve’s help with the luggage, and sat up front on the bench while Steve rode as lone passenger. Since Shield Hall was located a ways outside of the city, and evening was nearly upon them, they sought out local accommodations. M'baku asked Steve what sort of place he wanted to go to. “Do you want a big room? Company?” he asked, a distinctive island accent clinging to his vowels. “There are a couple of places to choose from. Different.”

“Eh, anywhere will do,” Steve hemmed, adding offhandedly that he wouldn’t mind the company of others.

So M'baku drove them to the Royal Naval Hotel. It seemed a handsome establishment, lively even, with quite a few people loitering about the downstairs. Steve checked himself in and had his luggage sent up, then he walked to the lounge with M’baku by his side. There were many fine couches and tables for the hotel’s patrons to use. Steve and M'baku spoke together for a moment, discussing their plans for the next day, when they would meet again and depart for Shield Hall.

With that settled, M'baku seemed eager to leave, and Steve could see a fancily dressed woman standing in the doorway leading into the next parlor, hiding behind a partially tied back velvet drape. She was peeking out at M'baku and Steve with narrowed eyes, looking none too pleased.

Steve turned back to M'baku and thanked him again for his help, eager to not have the prim hotel ladies complaining to management about him so soon. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said in parting, and M'baku left as sternly as he’d arrived. Steve chanced a glance towards the draped doorway again, but the lady had turned away to converse with a gentleman. The backside of her gown faced Steve; a fine India silk and muslin, as was the fashion, but it was the amount of skin permitted to show which stood out. She wore no gloves, and Steve couldn’t keep his eyes from honing in at the low dip of the neckline which was nearly below the lady’s shoulder blades in the back.

That tantalizing stretch of skin continued up her back and slim neck, to the mass of dark curls piled atop her head. Steve hadn’t realized it when she was peering out from the shadows before, but she wasn’t white. His own gaze narrowed at her in distaste, finding it odd that she of all people would take issue with a colored manservant being briefly inside the room.

Not that it was any different in New York. Indeed, Steve had tried—and failed—on an occasion or two to get Sam in with him to a certain place or another. Sometimes, if enough money was being spent and the proprietors were the right sort and employed discretion, there wouldn’t be much of a fuss made over who Steve wanted to have with him. But in many places, other patrons would eventually complain. However it was normally white people doing the complaining and looking down their noses.

The lady in the fine gown reacted to something her companion said, drawing Steve’s attention to the sound of her laughter that was like a little, tinkling bell. His eyes flicked up, and over her shoulder he caught the gaze of the gentleman with whom she was speaking. The man was easing off from the grin of a joke he’d told, and his still-laughing eyes locked intently on Steve. For a split second, it was electric, something in the man’s glittering eyes stealing the breath from Steve’s lungs.

Steve hurriedly looked away, feeling caught out. He thought he’d seen the man’s mouth twitch up there at the end, but he hadn’t the courage to turn back and check. The man was very good looking, in a rakish sort of way, with an unshaven jaw and murky blue eyes set in a handsome face. He kept his hair longer than was the fashion, but pulled back in a way that suited his features. He looked older than Steve’s own twenty-eight years, perhaps a man of twenty and fifteen or more, and he moved with the loose sort of confidence that a man did when he knew himself to be attractive. He was the exact type of fellow whom Steve avoided looking at or being around any more than was strictly necessary, lest he look or linger too long.

He turned away and ambled over into the next parlor, where he leant against the bar top and found his reprieve. He told the barkeep he’d have some good sort of rum, and took his drink off to another of the downstairs parlors, planting himself on a velvet settee where he could be out of the way and still observe the room at large. The place grew more crowded as evening drew in, and Steve saw enough to become convinced that the Royal Naval Hotel was not just a hotel: It was a bawdyhouse.

In the span of an hour, he witnessed no less than five different girls, interacting indecently amorous with seven different men, before taking said men’s hands and leading the grinning dopes away. Steve couldn’t see where they went once out of the room, but he could make an educated guess. None of these ladies wore gloves, either.

Incredible, he thought, as he watched one of them returning to approach her second gentleman within the span of forty minutes. The game began all over again, and Steve felt shocked and yet fascinated by her practiced movements and speech. It was like watching a ballet: scandalous and still elegant, the girl comporting herself with grace and impropriety all at once. Steve felt his cheeks heat as she left the room with her newest suiter, and he went back to the bar to get himself another pour.

A piano took up in one of the rooms, heard throughout the place, and more men came in. The number of women multiplied as well, but at a ratio which substantially favored the men. There were a number of British naval officers present, and Steve felt even more uncomfortable about that than he had been being led around by M'baku. He’d never hurt a negro man before, after all. He had killed English soldiers, and quite recently at that.

The last time Steve had fought had been in Canada, less than two full years ago. Niagara, dead Indians just as plentiful as all the uniformed red-and-whites, bodies bleeding into the snow. Steve suddenly remembered that he’d resolved to not make his nationality overly apparent whilst visiting Jamaica—a very British colony. And he certainly wasn’t planning on letting anyone know about his recent military service. He hadn’t a clue what the English soldiers’ attitudes towards Americans were, but back in New York, no known Brit was yet tolerated in polite company, even these twenty long months after the war had ended. Steve was certain that he’d be treated poorly at best, pickpocketed or accosted in the street at worst.

Unsurprisingly, about half of the men who filled The Royal Naval Hotel’s downstairs parlors wore the royal naval uniform. Some of them sat in groups and drank together and laughed, others played cards, their behavior for the most part unremarkable. But the ones who were there for other services made their interest plainly known as the evening wore on, and the ladies of the room would respond and float over like swans bobbing to breadcrumbs on a pond. It was not possible to miss that all of the crumbs were white, and all of the swans were black.

They were black, and less black, light skinned, and very dark indeed; as exotic and varied as any man could want. Much like the very first lady whom Steve had observed, they all wore luxurious clothes in the current fashions, with their hair piled high and woven through with decoration, sweet silk shawls draped about their arms, necks left bare of any jewelry, bosoms powdered and presented. It really was a bit like watching the ballet, and as the evening wore on and Steve sat there drinking a second and then a third round of what the barkeep called “grog,” he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from their dance.

They spoke and whispered into the men’s ears with cultured English and sometimes French, and they moved and walked like true ladies of society (at least when they weren’t sneakily sliding their hands into places they oughtn't be). Many of the men seemed respectful at best and besotted at worst, but Steve did catch a few dark glances that they would share amongst themselves when they thought the women weren’t looking. The way they looked made Steve uncomfortable—less so for the impropriety of it all, and more so for how it made him recognize his own lack of such interest.

For a moment, he thought again of Alva, back in New York. She was a pretty and tolerable girl, well-mannered and quick-witted even, with an interest in the theater and the arts that, while not matching Steve’s own, was robust enough to hold a conversation. He had no real objections to her other than that he didn’t love her, which in itself wasn’t uncommon between couples courting engagements. The thing was though: Steve had never loved any girl at all. He’d never felt the real and pressing temptation that other men seemed to harbor deep within themselves. He lacked that natural inclination which made men’s eyes linger and their gazes go dark behind ladies’ backs.

Steve squirmed in his seat, agitated when he tried and failed to view the various prostitutes as the other men saw them: alluring, desirable, lustful. He thought they were very pretty and graceful, of course, but in the way that birds were pretty and that cats were graceful. He felt nothing more towards them. Certainly not the things that the British naval officers clearly felt. … Certainly not the things which Steve had been known to feel about certain men.

He felt his cheeks go hot as his mind strayed to the unbidden memory of a crowded house: Bleecker street, dark rooms filled with smoke and drink and chatter, people in less and less clothing the further in one went. A broad back, two men pulling off shirts, their squared jaws kissing against a couch. Steve had nearly dropped his brandy glass when he’d walked in on it. He’d always fraternized with the bohemian types through his interests in the arts, and parties in the Village were undoubtedly of a different ilk, but he’d never imagined that any man could just … would just …

And right there in the middle of an unlocked room, no less! With others not even ten paces away who might look, might see—who had seen, and had simply looked the other way.

The drapes in that Molly house had all been heavy and drawn.

Steve squinched his eyes shut to try and knock the memory from his mind. Perhaps he should choose a woman, he thought. Try and pretend for a night, maybe even awaken the desire inside himself that he was supposed to have. Steve had never been with a woman, so perhaps his perversion was only due to inexperience. Perhaps he could change, if only he put in some effort and sought out a beautiful, soft body.

He drank the last of his rum and kept hold of the glass, keen on going to the bar for another pour. Three miserable weeks at sea and not a drop had passed his lips. He was overdue to indulge in one way or another. And since he wasn’t likely to work up the nerve to actually pay a woman for her company, he thought he might as well drink. The rum was sweet, after all.

Just as he was about to stand, a dress’ hem appeared in his field of vision, the tiny white points of a lady’s satin slippers peeking out from the bottom. Slowly, Steve let his eyes trail up. Oh. It was the same girl as before, the one who’d observed Steve and M'baku with meanly narrowed eyes. She didn’t look quite so peevish now. Her dark hair was curled and styled to frame her face, her cream-in-coffee skin on prominent display in the shelf of her bosom against the dress. Her features were graceful and classically feminine, but she had a prominent forehead and a dimple in her chin that elevated her from simply pretty, to handsomely striking. Really, she seemed a girl of hardly twenty, but her perceptive eyes hinted that she might be older.

“Hello,” she said, stepping even closer, until Steve could smell her perfume. “I saw you alone over here and thought I’d come to say hello. Maybe even cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up?” Steve breathed, then sat there like a dummy, speechless for long seconds. He hadn’t entertained the possibility that any of the working women would focus their attentions on him. Not when there were so many other eager breadcrumbs fellows in the middle of the room. “Well, I’m uh, I don’t need … cheer,” is what he eventually said, the words coming out weaker than intended. He watched as the girl’s features pinched in a polite sort of titter at his expense. Steve could hardly blame her. He sounded like a regular moron.

She perched herself daintily on the cushion beside him. “Don’t be silly. Everyone needs company.” Her voice, Steve noted, was fluid and viscous, like warmed honey. She lacked the island twang and in its place there was a hint of French. “I’m Rebecca,” she introduced, holding out her hand.

Steve took it, grazing lips to the backs of her scandalously bare fingers. He let it go, and she placed it on his shoulder rather than back in her own lap. Steve gulped. Now he felt less like a breadcrumb and more like a worm on a hook. “I … I’m only just arrived,” he rasped, feeling the need to excuse his antisocial behavior. “Not staying long. I was about to go to my, um, room—to sleep, that is! Go to my room to sleep.” He coughed. “I, erm, have some business in the morning.”

Rebecca tilted her head, eyes glittering. “Don’t we all. But you must tell me your name, Sir. I’d remember if I’d seen someone who looks like you at the Royal Naval before.” She touched her finger to her chin, as if putting great effort into guessing. “Mm. You’re American?”

Steve hemmed, overly conscious of where she was still touching his shoulder. Never in his life had he experienced such forward attentions from a woman, not even from Miss Barclay and her mother. “Um, yes,” he bumbled. “American. I’m … am.” She giggled at him and Steve shook his head. “I’m not planning on making any public announcements about that, you know. I don’t want trouble. I'm only here because I’ve inherited land.” An American veteran in British territory, not even two full years since the war? Yes, discretion would be prudent. “I’m Steven Rogers,” he hastily added, realizing that he hadn’t returned the introduction. “Of New York.”

“Steven,” she cooed. “Oh, how lovely. Steven from New York. May I call you Steve?”

“Um,”

Her lashes lowered demurely. “I’m Rebecca. Rebecca Beauchêne Proctor-Polgreen.”

“That's a mouthful.”

She laughed and winked. “Oh, I don’t mind a mouthful.”

Steve felt his cheeks flame at the double entendre. He cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. Her hand was still on his shoulder, and he hadn’t a clue as to how he should politely inform her that he had no intention of paying for her services. Suddenly, he thought of how M'baku had phrased his question earlier: if Steve would like to stay in a place where he could find “company.”

Oh. Steve realized that he was an utter dolt. “Um, well. I appreciate your welcome, Miss, um …”

“Just Rebecca,” she teased.

“Right. Miss Rebecca. You’ve been most kind, but my travels have left me tired and I wasn’t particularly seeking the … the company of a lady this evening.” He waited, and sure enough, her hand was soon removed from his shoulder. He nearly sagged in relief.

“Oh,” Rebecca said. “Oh yes, well you wouldn’t know, being new to town and all. I ought to have said. I serve in a managerial capacity here, Steve.” She grinned. “I take care of the girls, you understand? I’m afraid it is the rare gentleman whom I invite up to my private quarters, these days.” As Steve’s face continued to reach new levels of heat, she stood again and went to take his empty glass from the table. “A welcome is all I had on offer for you, handsome as you are. That, and any of my flock whom you might fancy.” Her eyes skimmed brazenly up and down Steve’s form. “I daresay they’ll fight each other for a chance at you.”

“Pardon,” Steve spluttered. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” He could see it now: how much more expensive her dress was than the other girls’, how fine the combs in her hair, the gold dangling from her ears. “Madam,” he said, “You have my apologies, please.” She waved him off, obviously unoffended and perhaps even amused. Steve realized that he was wasting his good manners, blundering and blushing the way he was.

Rebecca gestured at him with his empty cup in hand. “Don’t stress, Steve from New York. You’re on Caribbean time now. ‘Eaze and breeze’.” Her voice picked up the lilt of the island accent there at the end, and she sauntered back across the parlor to hand Steve’s glass over to the barkeep to be refilled.

Steve felt glued in place until she returned with yet another helping of rum, which he was sure he didn’t need. “Thank you,” he managed, sipping it only to be polite. Between his previous three rounds and the thinly-veiled obscenity of the atmosphere, he felt drunk already. Luckily, Miss Rebecca seemed to understand his discomfort and soon left him alone, though not without giving him one last wink and a pointed nod in the direction of her company of girls.

Steve wilted, watching as she went about that parlor and the next, stopping to chat with different groups of gentlemen—some with girls in their laps, and some without—never staying in one place for long. Steve felt foolish for not having realized her as the madame that she clearly was. It was so obvious now, as he watched her in the dance of the room and its ladies. She was the prima ballerina in a sea of coryphées.

After some time had passed, Steve felt himself quite literally falling asleep in his chair. Dear lord, he needed to go to bed. He abandoned his cup and stood, heading back out towards the main lobby. Tomorrow would be a productive day, he resolved as he went up to his room. He could start on what he’d come out here to do in the first place, not sit around bawdyhouse parlors making a fool of himself.

He’d just turned at the top of the stair when he caught sight of Rebecca again. It was dark and she didn’t see him, facing the other way. But the gentleman with her did. It was that same man with whom she’d been speaking before, downstairs when Steve first arrived with M'baku.

Steve gulped and stood very still, not wanting to be noticed and drawn into conversation. The man seemed to know this, as he smirked secretively in Steve’s direction but continued on in his murmured conversation with Rebecca. The two of them stood just outside one of the doors of the long upstairs hallway, and Steve pressed himself back against the wall in an attempt to be unobtrusive.

If the fellow was going to pay to spend the night with her, why didn’t he just get on with it already? They remained there speaking for long enough that Steve had ample time to appreciate the man’s features all over again. He was as tall as Steve, which was in itself uncommon, with a straight nose and shapely lips, not to mention a strong, unshaven jaw that all but had Steve’s mouth watering in a way that he was loath to admit. He held his breath as he was shot another leer from over Rebecca’s shoulder. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’dve said the man seemed almost amused at him.

The man bent to kiss Rebecca on her cheek. He took her hand and opened the door to the room, leading her through before himself. And when he turned to close it from the other side, he paused and stared long enough to make Steve’s blood stir, before shutting himself away behind the wood.

Steve was left feeling unsettled, and not sure that he’d entirely imagined the heated look in the other man’s eye. This fellow, he surmised, must be one of the ‘rare gentlemen’ who merited invitation into Miss Rebecca’s private quarters.

Steve put himself to bed hastily that night, aroused and frustrated as to the cause of it. And despite his long-held resolve to never touch himself to the thought of another man, he was soon reminded that even he couldn’t control what things crept into his dreams.

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