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She Thinks I'm Handsome. Steve Rogers x Reader Short Story
Summary: Y/n is terribly tipsy. Having only had one margarita, Nat texted Steve to come take her home. Y/n's tipsiness makes her admit something to Steve. Something she didn't mean to say out loud.
Warnings: mentions alcohol, reader being tipsy, and lots of fluff. Wrote on my phone with little editing.
Word count: 1,034
Inspired by: pin and a scene in the movie New In Town with Rene Zellweger, but I couldn't find it on YouTube.
Y/n couldn't stop giggling at the dinner table. Everything was just hilarious.
"Y/n you only had one margarita.... Are you sure you're ok?" Nat asked, sitting back in her chair, eyes wide with concern.
"I'm mine. I mean time. I MEAN I'm fine." Y/n replied, giggling at her own inability to speak coherently.
"Yeah. Sure you are. I told you this was a terrible idea." Nat whispered to Wanda.
"She told me she wanted to come! Besides, how is it my fault that she's a lightweight?" Wanda argued as if Y/n wasn't sitting right there.
"I am not a lightweight! I'm good." Y/n protested like a child not getting the sweets it wanted.
"Of course you are. You definitely aren't talking like someone who's done 20 wisky shots." Nat answered sarcastically.
"What are we gonna do? My car only has two seats. Unless we tape you to the roof." Wanda asked in a whisper. "I've got an idea." Natasha said conspiratorially, taking her phone out. "Who are you texting?" Wanda asked, an eyebrow rasing. "You know who," Nat said in a sing-song way. "You can not text him!" "Why not? They need a push." "She's about to fall over. " "Good. Let him play knight in shiny armor." "You know this wasn't I meant when I said we should set them up." "Well, it's what we're doing. He already responded and said he's on his way. Way too much of a gentlemen to abandon a maid in distress." "You are having way too much fun with this." Wanda sighed, leaning on her hand.
A few minutes later, y/n was trying to explain something to the girls, grabbing random bits and pieces of information and giving it to them as of it should all make sense.
The door to the cozy little restaurant opened and he walked inside. Spotting them easily and coming over to collect Y/n. Her back was to him so she had no idea of his presence.
Nat and Wanda remained completely silent as he approached giving him knowing and teasing looks. Nat mouthed "get her out" to which he couldn't help but smile.
It wasn't till he placed a gentle hand on y/n's shoulder that she noticed him at all.
"Steve!" She gasped much too loudly and drawing the attention of some of the other guests. "I didn't think you'd be here!" She said wobbling to her feet and throwing her arms around his neck. She'd never done that before. They've never exchanged any sort of hug before. So he shot the other two a look of complet and utter shock as his face turned three shades of pink.
"How much did y'all let her drink?" He demanded. "Steve. She had one margarita." Wanda deadpanned. Steve looked at Y/N and back to them, his brows raised in amazement. "Just one?" He asked. "One. And it wasn't even that big." Nat replied, lips forming into a smirk. "Wanda only has two seats in her car, and I road with her. So I figured you'd be happy to get Y/n home safely." She continued.
Steve put an arm around Y/n's shoulder in an attempt to steady her, grabbing her coat off the back of the chair, he said "c'mon. Let's get you home." "But I don't wanna!" She complained. "Y/n, you should go with Steve. We're gonna head out too." Wanda assured her. "Fine." She whispered/mumbled letting him guide her out.
Once they were outside the resturant she looked around wildly. "Where's your car?" "It's down the block. I couldn't find a spot here." "Oh. Where's my coat?" "That's right here." He answered holding it up to help her get into it. "Watch your hands. Mr Handys Hands." She slurred. "I'm. I'm not doing anything." Steve said blushing again.
She took a few steps forward and then stumbled into the street some. "Wait, wait, wait. My car isn't over there, " He spoke, quickly pulling her back.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." She assured him, walking along again, taking wobbly but somewhat straight steps.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck nervously and followed after her.
"Ok," He said after they had walked just a little bit further. "My car is right there"
Then she dashed up to a car that somewhat resembled his and started rapidly pulling on the handle causing the car alarm to go off.
"That. That wasn't my car." Steve said sounding embarrassed.
He used his key for, unlocked his car, before softly grabbing her by the arm and getting her seated inside. Taking a deep breath before coming round to get himself. He was gonna get Natasha for this. She had been teasing him about his growing affection for Y/n for months. She was trying to push his hand.
The drive home wasn't as crazy as the walk to the car had been. Y/n sat starring out the window commenting on the pretty city lights, how she liked the outfits of some of the pedestrians they passed, and got very excited when they stopped next to a car which had a Scottish Terrier in it.
He couldn't help smiling he was actually enjoying the drive with her.
When they finally pulled up to her house, he got out and came around to help her out. Not trusting that she'd be able to get out of the car and onto the curb without tripping.
Arm around her shoulder, he helped her to the door. Where she struggled to get the key into the lock. "Here," He said trying to take the key from her. "I got it. I got it." She said trying again to get the key go in. "Let me help." He said gentily taking it from her.
She finally looked up at up him and whispered "Gosh. You're handsome," pausing, her lips forming an O shape. "I just said that out loud, didn't I?"
Steve smiled broadly, "Yes. Yes, you did."
So he helped her inside and made sure she was settled with a glass of water and aspirin for the morning and then went home himself.
Whispering to himself, "She thinks I'm handsome."
(I know I haven't posted the next part in That's My Girl. Got a bit of writers block as to how to finish the chapter. I'll try to have it done by Wednesday. )
#steve rogers fluff#chris evans fluff#steve rogers romance#steve rogers short story#steve rogers x ready#steve rogers x reader short story#chris evans short story#chris evans#chris evans x you#chris evans reader insert#steve rogers#steve rogers reader insert#marvel shortstory#steve rogers love story#marvel romance#marvel x reader#marvel characters shortstory#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#captain america#captain america short story#captain america x reader fluff
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this parallel was my roman empire
screencap credits to @suburbanlegends-tv
#I WASN'T READY FOR THIS#WE QUEERS CAN'T HAVE SHIT#stucky#lokius#loki#loki spoilers#mobius#bucky barnes#bucky#steve rogers#captain america#loki season 2#marvel#mcu#stevebucky#steve x bucky#loki x mobius#winter soldier
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Ruby Garden Series
BDSM Club - various characters
Summary: Separate stories will focus on a different a pairing and have its own summary. The main background is that it all takes place in a private club Ruby Garden which caters to bdsm community.
Warnings: each part will get its separate warnings, but in general: BDSM themes; D/s dynamic; Dom/sub; spanking and other impact play; oral; anal; orgasm control; edging; sex toys; power imbalance; ssc - safe sane consensual;
Dom!Andy Barber
Dom!Ari Levinson
Dom!Steve Rogers
Dom!Lloyd Hansen
Dom!Nick Fowler
Dom!Bucky Barnes + Dom!Curtis Everett
#yes I'm finally making a separate masterlist for this universe#even though there's not yet a full fic ready#but there are some hot drabbles to enjoy#andy barber x reader#andy barber x you#dom!andy barber#dom!andy barber x reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x you#dom!ari levinson#dom!ari levinson x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#dom!steve rogers#dom!steve rogers x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x you#dom!lloyd hansen#dom!lloyd hansen x reader#nick fowler x reader#dom!nick fowler#dom!nick fowler x reader#curtis everett x reader#curtis everett x you#dom!curtis everett#dom!curtis everett x reader#ruby garden#ruby garden series#ruby garden masterlist
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itching to gif eddie diaz but i still have like four seasons to go
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Bucky: *sees the plane set to leave in three hours*...hey tony
Tony: *holding up his phone texting sleepily* done *goes back to sleep*
Bucky: *goes back to sleep also*
[They got on a later flight they were late to the hotel]
Pepper: Tony it's your guys wedding!!
Tony: we were tired
Pepper: *grabbing his shoulders* I love you but you make me
Steve: so insane! Buchanan, you asked to sleep in?
Bucky: I am more we rested and you middle named me... :/
#tony stark#bucky barnes#winteriron#steve rogers#pepper potts#pepper being tony wingwoman#tony stark x bucky barnes#tony and bucky choosing sleep over their wedding#only thirty minutes to getting ready#silly ideas#tony and bucky being mutual insomniacs#nothing serious
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☝🏻Me as the reader upon seeing Bucky and Steve
Oh my God, they're shameless! And I don't know which one is worse, both are bad bad baaad.
Someone will really have to call the firefighters because if they keep it up, my 😺 gonna set on fire
𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲
Pairing ༄ Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader Word Count ༄ 2.4k Warnings ༄ Swearing, pet names, extreme tension of the spicy kind, fluff, implication of a poly relationship (Steeb and Bucko are married but it doesn't stop them), they are menaces Rating ༄ M Event ༄ @stuckybingo B5 (Firefighter AU) | Bingo Masterlist Author's Note ༄ Look, I can't help what I did here. I just thought of their uniforms. You're welcome.
It was an old wives tale that you put no stock in: that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach – though this time, it worked, and it worked better than you could have ever imagined.
It had been a day. And on days like this, you turned to baking; sugar was a sure-fire way to improve anyone’s mood.
You weren’t sure how you had gone that overboard, though. Your kitchen, once spotless and organised, was in disarray with trays of muffins and cookies that were overloaded to the point they were almost overflowing.
It wasn’t a baking disaster, no – it was just a severe overestimation of the ingredients, that’s all.
The clouds out of your kitchen window looked stormy and grey, and a steady breeze rustled the trees lining your yard, and you sighed, glancing back down at the array of sweets. You came to a decision then. The firemen – and firewomen – at your local station; they were always giving to the community, fearlessly putting their lives on the line to save others and help them.
They deserved some sweet treats, too.
With your arms ladened with containers of baked goods, you placed them on the back seat of your car and then started the engine. The fire station of your small town wasn’t too far away, so you cranked up the volume of your radio and began the quick drive, a big smile on your face.
There was a bus parked just down the road with the sign for children boarding, and the smile on your face widened. Today must have been field trip day, and where better to do it than here? Children were standing just inside the station's roller doors where a truck sat, lights flashing bright; red and blue bouncing and reflecting off of gleeful, childish smiles.
You hummed quietly to yourself and parked your car, a small distance away to keep the driveway clear – after all, emergencies didn’t stop just because children and baked goods appeared.
A loud whoop of a siren echoed as you made your way to the open roller door and the children squealed, making you grin behind the towering containers in your arms, overjoyed to have picked such a cheerful day to share.
“Kids, settle down,” a deep voice called, the smile evident in the tone. You peered around the doorway and saw a fireman, a toothy smile surrounded by an immaculate goatee. “Now, are you ready to see how we get down the pole,” the man pointed over his shoulder towards the shining fireman’s pole by the stairs, “over there?”
A collective cheer came from the children and you lowered your arms just a little bit so you could see over the top container better. The doorway was partially in the way so you stepped inside, and the man spotted you. “Hi there,” he said, and you smiled back. “Just a minute. Buck can help you when he gets down here.”
“No worries at all,” you said, and Sam winked before turning back towards the pole.
“Buck, Steve! Show these kids how it’s done.”
Heaven above, you were not ready for what would come sliding down that damned pole.
The squeak from the sole of boots and the pull of skin against metal sounded and your mouth opened in a quiet gasp, the containers nearly tumbling from your arms.
A blonde man, the size of a fucking tree, you swore, slid down first. The pants of his uniform were held up by red suspenders that lay over an extremely muscled chest, on full display through an extremely tight grey shirt. He landed on the cement floor with a grunt and spread his arms out, a wide, toothy grin on his face as he took in the clapping children.
“C’mon, Buck,” he called, looking up at the hole in the roof. “Get down ‘ere!”
It was a miracle that the children cheered again, because the noise that left you when ‘Buck’ slid down the pole was not dignified.
‘Buck’ was just as, if not, taller than the blonde you assumed now was Steve, and definitely broader. Dark brown hair fell down his face in strands while the rest was kept up in a messy bun. His grin was wide, happy, and bright, and his face was covered in a light dusting of stubble. The dark red, almost burgundy shirt that he was wearing was arguably tighter than Steve’s.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered when Bucky stood next to Steve, throwing a tattooed arm over Steve’s shoulder, grinning down at the kids that barely reached their knees. “Oh, fuck.”
Fate wanted to laugh at you, however, because it was at that moment that both Steve and Buck looked over at the open doorway, their grins growing wider by tenfold once they managed a glance at your floundering expression.
“Take care a’her,” the man with the goatee said before gathering and herding the kids towards the far wall, where uniforms and helmets hung ash stained, but proud.
They sauntered over, and it was all you could do to not fall to the floor with wobbling knees.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve said brightly, and you bit back a whimper. “What can we do for you?”
Uselessly, you glanced between the two of them – struck by how damn handsome they were up close. It put all your calendars to shame.
“Doll?” Buck said, raising a brow and offering his arms to take the containers. “Lemme take them for you.”
“Thank you,” you squeaked, immediately growing anxious at the loss of the barrier you had to hide behind. “I-I baked them for you guys, as a thank you for all you do for us–”
“Is that a batch of cookies I see?”
Bucky turned at the voice, but Steve was still staring at you, a smirk growing on his pretty pink lips–stop it! You chided yourself.
“Clint, back off, they’re mine!” Buck yelled, pulling the containers tighter to his chest and shifting closer to Steve until their shoulders bumped.
A snort sounded behind them and you watched another blond approach, rolling his eyes. “Yeah,” Clint said, waving a hand as he entered what looked like an office. “Like your husband would protect you when he could take them all for himself.”
Immediately you looked at Bucky’s left hand, ignoring the way the intricate tattoos contrasted against his skin in the light, and saw two gold bands – one wider than the other with black and red stones. You felt crestfallen, it was a shame–
“What’re you staring at, sweetheart?” Steve piped up suddenly, a dangerously mischievous glint in his eyes. “You eyein’ up my husband?”
The ground couldn’t swallow you whole quick enough, and your eyes widened. “No!”
Buck laughed and shook his head. “Like you weren’t enjoyin’ it, punk.” The containers shifted in his arms and he offered his hand. “I’m Bucky, and this here is Steve.” You offered your name and gasped as Bucky pulled on your hand, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.
“Stop swooning and just ask her out for coffee, you fool,” Steve snapped and rolled his eyes, taking the containers from Bucky and striding away, pausing only to wink at you.
Time had frozen. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “What the hell just happened?”
“Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” Bucky said, staring at what you would guess to be Steve’s ass as he walked away. “Anyway,” he turned back to you and you realised belatedly that he was still holding your hand. “Thank you, doll, we appreciate it a lot.”
You looked up at him and smiled the best you could – you were still reeling from the shock of whatever the hell just happened. “You’re welcome,” you said quietly, and Bucky tilted his head slightly. It was like a punch to the gut, seeing his hair brush against his cheeks, and the way his grey eyes shone in the light. “I better go–”
“Where you goin’?” Bucky interrupted. He was still not letting go of your hand.
Staring up at him, you struggled for words before settling on, “Home.”
Bucky raised a single brow in question, and shook his head slightly, as if amused. “You don’t sound so sure about that, honey.”
Oh, god, you thought.
“Come stay a while, the kids are leavin’ soon,” Bucky said, gesturing towards the kids with a nod of his head. “And this way we can give our compliments to the baker directly.” His smirk – god, it would be the death of you. “I owe you a coffee, c’mon.”
The tug on your hand was like a jumpstart to your heart, and you followed on autopilot while Bucky walked towards another door. His heavy boots slapped against the floor and you watched his back ripple as he walked, barely restraining yourself to just reach out and run your hand over the muscle, to feel the power and strength of them.
“There he is,” Steve said suddenly, his head poking out the door just ahead. “I was about to come and pull you off her.”
“Like you wouldn’t join in, punk,” Bucky huffed, and you stiffened, your mind racing. Just what kind of marriage was this?
The door opened and Bucky pulled you inside. It was a breakroom of some description with lockers lining one side of the room, while tables littered the middle, surrounded by mismatched soft chairs. A red-haired woman was perched on a black chair just inside the entry, while a younger man stood at the lockers – both of them were staring right at you as you entered behind Bucky, the young man with wide eyes, the woman with narrowed eyes, like she was appraising you.
“Who’s this?” The red-head asked, a sly smirk pulling at her lips when she glanced down to see Bucky still holding your hand.
“This is the lovely dove that baked us all these goodies,” Clint piped up suddenly behind you.
The young man ran towards Steve who was setting out the baked treats, snatching one with a laugh when Steve pushed him away. “Kid, you got no damn patience, d’you?”
“No,” he answered, and he looked at you, waving happily. “I’m Peter, by the way.”
“Hi Peter,” you said softly. Bucky pulled you closer again and you were suddenly against his side, his arm over your shoulder and all you could smell was him - woodsmoke, some kind of spice, and just Bucky. You gulped quietly and smiled at the red-head who stood slowly and made her way over to the table, then Steve. “I hope you like them,” you gestured to the containers.
“Make way!”
Bucky pulled you to stand beside the door and the man with the goatee appeared, grinning happily and making a beeline to the table of containers. “That’s Sam,” Bucky whispered, pointing at Sam’s back with the hand over your shoulder. “He’s the fire chief.” Then he pointed at the woman, a slight smile on his lips when you looked up at him. “That’s Nat, and I am terrified of her.”
“I heard that, Barnes,” Nat said suddenly, her back still to you as she perused what was on offer. “Watch it.”
Unseen by her, Bucky grimaced exaggeratedly and saluted. You laughed.
“Alright,” Steve said, clapping his hands. He took a seat on a couch you didn’t notice before and he patted the cushion next to him. “Come sit down, sweetheart,” he said, though you had no choice because Bucky had started to steer you towards him. “You deserve to enjoy your baking, too.”
You landed with an oof against Steve’s side, and Bucky followed, sitting on the free cushion with a loud groan. “Haven’t sat down all day,” he complained. Steve rolled his eyes and offered you a muffin that you took with a smile.
The containers slowly emptied and so did the room. Clint, Natasha, Peter, and Sam had filtered out to the office, leaving you alone with Steve and Bucky.
“So, sweetheart,” Steve purred suddenly, and your gaze snapped to his face. You could feel Bucky shift next to you but you were trapped in Steve’s gaze, a deer in headlights. “What d’you say, huh?”
You baulked, not even registering Bucky’s hand on your shoulders, slowly moving up to grip the back of your neck. “What?”
Steve chuckled and Bucky huffed a laugh, putting more pressure on the back of your neck – enough to cause you to shiver. “Come home with us, doll,” Bucky said, his voice low and hoarse. A shudder flew up your spin and you couldn’t form words. It was all too much of a shock–
An alarm echoed in the breakroom and you jumped a foot in the air.
“Damn it all,” Steve groaned.
Bucky looked to the ceiling and let go of your neck. “Always the fuckin’ way.”
“What’s happening?” You asked, looking between the two as they got to their feet, slight frowns on their lips.
“Time to go save lives,” Steve winked. “Tell ‘er, Buck, I’ll see you out there.”
You watched Bucky nod and offer a hand to pull you up, only when you took it, he pulled you tight to his chest, a slight chuckle rumbling in his throat when you let out a small noise of surprise. His hands gripped your shoulders and pushed you back so he had to bend slightly to look you in the eye, it was all you could do to not whine needily at the action – why was he so damn tall, you cursed.
“Here,” Bucky said, pulling a small card and a pen from his pants pocket. He stood there for a second scrawling something, and then he handed it to you. It was a phone number. “Call me later.”
There was a shout from out by the truck and Bucky winced. “I gotta go, doll,” he rushed, and he placed a quick kiss on your cheek, the stubble on his jaw tickling slightly.
“Okay,” you said numbly, still in shock. Bucky smiled and ran from the room; the yells of his crew audible even over the alarm. Slowly, you ran your finger over where he kissed your cheek.
You couldn’t shake the warmth you felt when you sat next to Steve, nor could you shake the comfort you felt from Bucky’s touch. It was surreal. They were married to one another, but yet, here they were so openly flirting with you – you were intrigued, happy even for that fact.
Suddenly, as you walked back to your car parked a small way away, thumbing at the small card in your hand, you realised bringing treats to the station may have just changed your life.
And you could not wait.
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#I'm so ready for ruination by these two#Stucky x reader#Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers#Fic rec
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.
𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!
“The girl’s ready, Captain.”
Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”
“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”
“Good. You’re dismissed.”
The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.
His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.
That left Steve. But Steve had this.
I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.
Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.
And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.
You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.
“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”
Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.
“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.
Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.
And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.
After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.
And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.
“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”
Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…
“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.
He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.
“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”
“Get on the bed.”
“H-Huh?”
“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”
Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.
And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.
Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.
Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.
What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.
“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.
The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.
“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.
You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”
Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.
“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.
“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”
“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”
Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”
He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.
“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”
Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.
“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”
You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.
He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.
“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.
“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.
It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.
“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”
You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.
“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”
You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”
“Take it out.”
A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.
“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.
“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”
He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.
“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”
“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.
“Stroke it.” He instructs you.
You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”
“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”
You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.
“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”
Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.
“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”
You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.
He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.
“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.
Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.
“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”
You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”
“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”
Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?
He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.
“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”
“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”
Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.
Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.
“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”
You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.
Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.
But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.
“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.
“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”
There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”
“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”
Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.
Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.
He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.
He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.
“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.
“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.
“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”
He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.
Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.
“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.
With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.
It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.
You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.
“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”
It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.
He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.
“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.
You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”
Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.
“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”
His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.
“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”
With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.
“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”
“H-Huh?”
“You heard me.”
You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.
“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.
“You’ve never fingered yourself?”
“No!”
“Tell me why not.”
You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”
A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”
The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.
“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.
Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”
You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.
“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”
This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.
“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.
“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”
He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.
“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”
It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.
And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.
“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.
He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.
“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.
“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.
“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”
You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.
“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”
His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.
“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”
You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”
“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.
“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.
Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.
Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.
But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.
He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.
“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”
Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…
He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…
“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”
How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.
“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.
“N-No, Captain.”
“Why not?”
“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.
Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.
“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”
He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.
Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.
Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.
He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.
Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.
He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.
He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.
“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.
He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.
He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.
Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.
He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.
Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.
“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.
“Yes.”
You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.
“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”
“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.
You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.
“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”
A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.
He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.
Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.
“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”
You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.
“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.
“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.
The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).
You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.
“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”
“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”
He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.
“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.
Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.
The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.
He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
You’ve passed out.
“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.
“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.
It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.
“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”
He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.
“I-It hurts!”
“Address me properly.”
“C-Captain, it hurts!”
He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”
Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.
“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”
Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.
“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”
You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”
Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!
With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.
“Now you can scream.”
“Huh?”
He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.
A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.
“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”
Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.
“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.
“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”
Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.
I deserve this, he thinks to himself.
He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.
“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”
You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”
“Answer me!”
“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.
Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”
“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”
The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…
For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.
“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.
“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”
Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.
He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.
“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.
He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”
You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.
“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”
He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.
“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –
“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.
“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”
“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.
“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”
“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”
Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.
“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.
You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.
He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.
Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.
With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.
He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.
“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”
This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.
“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”
“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.
With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.
“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air. It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.
“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”
It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.
“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”
“Wh-What?”
He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.
He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.
“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”
Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.
“Use your words.”
“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”
You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.
“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.
“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.
Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”
You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.
You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.
All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.
He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.
“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.
“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”
“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”
He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.
“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”
“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”
He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.
And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.
“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”
You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.
“Answer me, baby girl.”
“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”
“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.
But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.
“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”
You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”
“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”
Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.
“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”
“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.
“Wh-What–”
“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”
Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”
He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.
“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”
Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.
With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.
Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.
“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”
Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”
Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”
“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”
“N-No, I–”
He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.
“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”
“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.
“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”
You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.
“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”
“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.
The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.
“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.
“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.
Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.
Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.
Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.
***
It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.
The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.
“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.
“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”
The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.
“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”
“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”
They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.
“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.
His beautiful, broken little bride.
“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”
Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.
Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.
He deserved this.
AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.
ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#chris evans#dark steve rogers#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fanfiction#chris evans fanfiction
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needy
pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader
summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.
word count: 2.45k
warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI
a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3
not edited.
DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.
A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.
He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.
On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”
“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.
Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.
Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”
And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?
Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir.
God, he wanted needed you so bad.
“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”
For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.
You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.
God, you needed him so bad.
As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.
“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.
“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”
“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”
“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.”
Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.
“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”
You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.
You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.
“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.
“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”
“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”
“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…
He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.
Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.
“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.
“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”
Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.
His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.
Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.
Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”
You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.
“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.
He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.
“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely.
“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”
Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.
He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases.
Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.
“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.
“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.
#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x black reader#steve rogers x black!reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x black!reader#chris evans x black reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x female reader
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All the better to eat you
werewolf!Steve Rogers x female reader
summary: You muster the courage to visit Scaretale, with your heart full of hope for a magical romance. After all, the club promises that no client would leave without having their wishes fulfilled. So the love you've been longing after should be waiting for you, right?
warnings: werewolf!Steve; dark!Steve; monsterfucking, but no bestiality; heavy dub-con; blowjob/facefucking (possibly the nastiest bj I've ever written 😳); unprotected sex; knotting; biting; size kink;
word count: 5.3k
Author's Note: This is a part of the Scaretale universe. I think it's fitting I'm starting the monster fucking extravaganza with my fave man to ruin me, right? 🤭 The title is an obvious tease on the classic Red Riding Hood text.
It was a thrill reminiscent of the first minutes of a movie. The kind you watched on a late autumn evening, with a candle lit up and hot chocolate in hand, curled up on a couch and wary of any sounds creaking inside the house.
It spiked pulse and lured in with the mystical, almost forbidden atmosphere; keeping you on your toes in fear of something truly scary jumping out at you.
You grew up in a rather tolerant household, taught not to be scared of monsters more than you should human men. Still, certain caution and fear pumped through your veins as you neared the entrance of the Scaretale.
A building straight out of a fairytale, situated on the border of lands between human and monstrous worlds. Though those merged fluently over the past half a century, or so. Half of your coworkers were other species. It was impolite to call them creatures, or monsters, even if that word somehow always echoed in your head.
Perhaps you’d never have the balls to visit Scaretale, if it wasn’t for the deepening sense of loneliness and heartbreak. And since your regular methods at dating all failed, leaving you with an even worse feeling of self-loathing, the glow of the letters embroidered on the dark leaflet enticed you even more.
All fairy tales install fear, but they also give satisfying completion in the end. Come and start your own tale, find who you’ve been missing. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after.
Scaretale tempted with making those dreams come true. Was it naive of you to have your heart squeezing in hope at the prospect of it?
Not a part of you was a romantic - it was all of you. Craving someone to share the life with. You didn’t expect perfection, that was unrealistic. But you yearned for connection and support, for a warm embrace to hold you after a tiring day, for someone to call you theirs and mean it.
Oh gods, how obsessively you sometimes wished that someone would really consider you theirs - even to the point of possessiveness, of certain ownership.
You explained it with your prolonged lack of any deep connection and love. A hole in your heart that kept growing and growing, until it was no longer sated by casual dates and sweet flirting, but needed a more intense, obsessive kind of love.
If human men failed in that department, maybe a monster would be your match. Didn’t even have to provide a warm embrace, you joked to yourself as you readied for the night. A nice, cold vampire would do. They had years to mature, most of them had an established income, or savings, a sense of dark humor.
So you left your apartment with your heart fluttering, moved by the flashes of dreams of a great love you’ve been chasing half of your life.
However, the second you stepped inside the Scaretale, your heart froze for a second.
It didn’t look scary, nor was it filled with screams and sounds of violence. Quite the contrary, the air of tranquility coated the space. But the glow within, that didn’t seem to come off of any actual lamp, heightened the sense of wariness.
Humans were here, but it was obvious this space belonged to the monsters and was most of all their realm. That enchanting sense of calm began feeling like a mesmer that forced your body to move forward, while your brain filled with rising anxiety whispering that perhaps it would be better to leave.
Somehow, you couldn’t.
You took a deep breath, smelling sweet berries and gardenias in the most natural combination, as if you were walking through an actual garden. It was relaxing, yet in a way seemed to clog your mind.
Maybe if you went outside for a minute to breathe the crispy, chilly air of late October evening, it would clear your head and help you regroup your thoughts.
Even as that thought formed in your head, your body didn’t move toward the exit. Only a step forward.
At your pace - shy and unsure, but never a step back.
The echo of the words from the leaflet clenched your heart in a tight grip. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after. It appeared to be an actual enchantment.
Scared, you looked around. No one was charging at you, no gnarly vines gripped you to swallow you under the ground. Patrons were calmly mingling around. Some sat in booths alone, simply observing the others. Maybe even looking for the same thing as you - someone to love. Or less romantically, someone to share a passionate night with.
There were also groups, like in one of the big booths where a bunch of thickly muscled, quite scary looking orcs were drinking beer. Neither of them looked approachable, their faces seemed frozen in permanent scowl. Their bodies, though clean of any trace of it, screamed of bloodbath.
In the center of the room, far deep inside the neverending space of the club, stood an oval bar. The shelves hanging above the counter were so thin it looked like the glasses and bottles were floating in the air, among teardrop-shaped bulbs of light. A slim, graceful bartender was running the bar; her hair long and a color of impossible blue.
Two men sat at the bar, their gazes turning your way as you walked closer. At a first glance they appeared human, but the similarity quickly dissolved. Their dark skin had markings of burgundy red that flashed with a shade of molten lava. Between the curls of their dark hair sparked flickers of pure fire.
Ifrits.
A flush of heat passed over you as they scanned your form with interest. For a moment you felt a spike of curiosity, wondering how an ifrit’s heat would feel against your skin. But it quickly passed, being only a figment of natural desire, but not the deep connection you searched.
The men seemed to read you well enough to realize you weren’t one looking for an adventure and they weren’t interested in providing more than that. They nodded politely at you, then moved their gazes to roam around.
Though you felt a certain relief, there was also that bitter pang of sadness. Once again, you weren’t what someone was looking for.
All those years you repeated over and over again to yourself, that it was okay to not be interested in someone. After all, you weren’t interested in some people either. But for so long it felt as if you were never anyone’s choice, that you couldn’t help but think you would never be.
When you went out with your friends, back in college years, or even recently, someone always flirted up, or approached your group. Just not you. All your friends, but never you. Some talked to you, but it was obvious they weren’t interested in more.
A dreadful thought settled with heavy weight on your shoulders. What if you were now trapped here forever? Not leaving without your ever after, but if there was no one for you, what would happen to you?
Just when your heart squeezed painfully, your chin dropping to your chest as you stared at the dark green floor in hope to hide the shine of your tears, a low, rumbling sound teased your ear.
You didn’t feel anyone’s presence behind you, or anywhere near you, but you heard that sound. That… growl.
Slowly, you raised your head and looked around. For a long moment you didn’t notice anyone who could’ve been the owner of that voice. Until your eyes settled on the shadowed nook across from the bar.
Only a faint outline of the silhouette was visible from your standing point. And a pair of glowing, blue eyes. Beautiful, but wild. Something dangerous lurked in that gaze, raising goosebumps on your arms.
Anxiety rose anew, your instincts screaming at you to run. Fast and far. But you couldn’t move your feet an inch back, only stay in place, or move forward.
Breath hitched in your lungs as the mysterious shadow slowly stood up, stretching to its full form. He was even bigger than you assessed him to be while sitting. Those eyes held yours captive, demanding you watch him as he approached in slow steps. Once he got into the light and you took in all of him, your breathing stopped altogether.
He wasn’t just big. He was huge! And broad. Massive. His dark clothes didn’t hide what was obviously cords of muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. While his shoulders were wide enough to get stuck in the door, his waist was tapered. His legs were long, but with thick thighs. Legs built for running.
For chasing…
His dark blonde hair curled at his nape, his beard was thick and trimmed. You saw curls of dark golden hair covering his forearms, where the sleeves of his dark sweater were rolled up, revealing skin.
As he approached you, his tongue swiped out to lick his bottom lip, then over the upper row of his teeth. You caught a glimpse of a sharp canine, but it wasn’t a vampiric one.
No, this monster was very much living. Blood and flesh and all things primal.
A werewolf.
Your body jolted, struck with an inner bolt of adrenaline. Like at a jumpscare in a horror movie, but this one very much real.
Your heart thumped rapidly, forcing your blood to rush so fast it almost made you dizzy. It was scary. He was scary. Yet, you couldn’t help, but follow that sensation further. Just like never turning off the horror movie and continuing to watch it, even though you’re shaken and sweaty.
“Hello.”
His greeting was so simple, seemingly unimpressive, but the timbre of his voice alone made it a knee-weakening seduction.
Or maybe a threat…
Because the way he loomed over you, his eyes never leaving you, you started to realize that he wouldn’t allow you to step away from him.
“Hi,” you squeaked out, then cleared your throat to hopefully regain your normal voice.
“I won’t ask what a sweet bunny like you is doing here,” his sharp, white teeth flashed in a truly wolfish smile, “but I will ask that you stay still while I take a first deep whiff of my future mate.”
What?! Your mind screeched. Your body, meanwhile, went still. Just like he asked.
“Ma- what?” Your tone dried breathless. “We’re not- I’m not-”
Your words got stuck in your throat when the werewolf breached your personal space and bent down to drag the tip of his nose against your neck.
A shiver rocked you, but a solid arm wrapped around you in a flash, steading you. Or maybe holding you in place, so you wouldn’t dare inch away from him. His incredible warmth engulfed you like a weighted blanket - a layer of comfort hidden deep beneath the scary sense of constriction and suffocation.
He smelled of pine and burnt wood and a heady note you couldn’t describe as anything other than masculine.
“Absolutely delicious.” He hummed appreciatively, leaning back with visible reluctance.
“I’m not your mate,” you managed to blurt out, looking around in panic in hope that someone would come to your aid.
“Of course not.” He smiled, but it wasn’t reassuring at all. “Not until I have you writhing on my knot and bite you.”
The visual of it had you whimpering in fear; your eyes stung with tears that threatened to spill out. He had you caged out in the open of the club, publicly; you were sure your discomfort and trembling were visible to others; yet no one came to help you. Were they scared of the huge werewolf, or maybe they just didn’t care?
“No, I meant that I won’t-” your nervous explanation died on your tongue the second his hand snapped your way.
His large hand cupped your chin; surprisingly gentle, even in its firm hold. However, the long claws protruding from his fingers, grazing the delicate skin of your cheeks, were far from non-threatening.
Shockingly, your body responded in contrast to your mind’s anxious thoughts. As the werewolf’s claws dug into your soft cheeks, your nipples hardened into stiff peaks.
“You will.” Came his calm, unyielding decision.
He yanked your face up, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes and rely your weight to be supported by his hold alone. Starking blue eyes stared down at you, the rim around the irises glowing a silvery moon.
Then there was that grin again - sinister and teasing, with a flash of teeth (which made your skin prickle in fear of the vicious bite mauling your flesh).
“Scaretale promises its patrons realization of their deepest desire.” He said and you felt dread building in your chest with a silent scream. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret, bunny. It’s the monsters that get the privilege of having their desires met. Sweet humans are the prey that gets to fulfill our demands.”
Your hope shattered into a million pieces. Or was it your heart that broke for yourself and the love you were dreaming of finding. Tears welled up in your eyes as the heavy reality of entering a nightmare settled in.
“Aww, why the tears, sweet bunny?” He cooed at you, with the pad of his thumb brushing away a tear trickling down your cheek.
“Because I didn’t want this,” your meek voice barely made it past your lips.
“I would perhaps believe you, if your nipples weren’t poking right through your pretty dress,” he chuckled. “Or-” he leaned closer, lips brushing the corner of your mouth- “if I didn’t smell your pussy priming itself for me.”
A flush of heat scorched your cheeks. You weren’t paying much attention to that part of your body, too lost in the anxious wailing of your mind, but as he mentioned your core your focus shifted to the pulse between your thighs. You weren’t wet, not exactly. But you felt that warmth and tingling; the growing interest your body had in the werewolf’s brutal ways.
“Will you let me go? Afterwards?” You asked, sniffling quietly.
A part of you wondered, if you had any chance fighting him off, but logic itself made that calculation quick. There was no way you would manage to slip away from his grip, without him allowing you to. So as bitter and numbing it was to accept, you knew you had to give in, to at least protect yourself from too much damage.
A frown marred his handsome face for a second, before it relaxed into that easy charm he first greeted you with.
“There’s no afterwards. There’s only forever.” He tenderly stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Werewolves mate for life, bunny.”
Your crushed heart gave a pang, a reawakening jolt.
Didn’t you want someone to call you theirs forever? To own you?
Scaretale gave you that wish, in its own very twisted, cruel way.
“But I don’t even know your name.” Your hands twisted in the fabric of his sweater; half of your mind still considered trying to fight the monster off.
“Steve,” he grinned. He released your chin to run his fingers down your neck and then to the back of your head. “You can tell me yours, or I can keep calling you bunny.” He gripped a fistful of your hair and nipped your earlobe with his teeth.
“Though, I admit, I’m a sentimental man and I’d like to groan your name when I break your holes.”
You made a pitiful sound of protest, which didn’t get a chance to really resound as Steve’s mouth claimed yours. Like with the way he moved and touched, his kiss spoke of the wild beast that ruled him. He wasn’t just kissing you, he was devouring. Conquering.
And you melted into it. Your body became pliant and aroused.
He tapped your swollen lips with a sharp claw, once again asking for your name. You whispered it and as your mouth parted to sound the word, Steve slipped a finger into your warm cavern. Tip of his claw teased at your tongue, causing you to stiffen in fear. Suddenly, there was pressure on the flat of your tongue as his thick finger settled on it and massaged; but there was no slice of claw anymore.
Steve withdrew his finger, but the grip of his other hand on the nape of your neck tightened. He pushed you in front of him and led you deeper into the club’s depths. In time, lights seemed to dim and the main room divided into three corridors.
The left and right corridors were shrouded in darkness, your human eyes couldn’t see any path other than the abyss. The middle corridor was doused in glow - soft, magical, luring.
Steve turned left and you felt yourself shiver as darkness engulfed you. He didn’t seem to have any problem in navigating the eternal, starless night that filled the tunnel. Finally, you reached the end, marked by the outline of an ornate door. The markings lit up as Steve’s hand touched the frame.
When he pushed you through it, you stumbled into a bedroom. A cozy looking, not too big bedroom, with a massive, wood frame bed taking most of the space. The place didn’t look like a fancy hotel room, nor like a bedroom that could match Scaretale’s interior. No, this place was personal and lived in. It was someone’s home.
A home that smelled of pine, burnt wood and musk.
You turned around, glancing at the door now closed behind Steve’s back. They didn’t look anything like the ones you stepped through, but like a normal door in what could be a cabin in the woods.
An intricate marking glowed on the upper beam of the frame, suddenly igniting in flame that burnt all the magic out. Leaving only a reminder of the portal that was activated, but now closed permanently.
You had no way back to the Scaretale. Or your home.
“Steve-” you took a tentative step back as your gaze returned to him.
“Strip.” He ordered, taking off his own sweater in one, swift move.
“P-please…” you felt the sting of tears again, even as your walls pulsed at the sight of Steve’s half naked, impressive body.
His skin was fair, near marble like sculpture of defined muscles. But not as bare and smooth. Thick curls of dark golden hair covered his arms, shoulders and chest, from where it trailed low across his torso in a stripe leading to…
Holy fuck, you were going to die!
His cock wasn’t just proportionate to the rest of his massive body, it was near monstrous looking in its shape - with the bulbous head angry red and shiny with pearly precum; pulsing veins that curved along his girth; large, heavy sack nestled in a crown of gold hair; and a thick, wide ring of a knot at the base that already felt impossible to push into any of your holes, much less when it inflated.
“I’m growing impatient, bunny,” Steve snarled, prowling towards you. “I can rip it off of you, but I don’t know if it’s a dress you really like, so I don’t want to make you sad by ruining it.”
“Why don’t you care about making me sad by ruining me?” You snapped, but it lacked viciousness. Partly because of fear, partly because you were breathless with unexpected need.
You had nowhere else to run when the back of your legs hit the bedframe and Steve loomed over you.
“Trust me, bunny,” he emitted a low growl, “when I ruin your holes, you’ll feel nothing but delirious pleasure and happiness.”
He didn’t give you a second chance to undress. With two harsh moves he ripped the fabric apart, his claws so sharp they easily sliced through. He held your gaze as he hooked one pointy talon beneath the lace of your panties.
“Such beautiful eyes,” he murmured, slowly dragging his claw back and forth. “That fear and arousal. Can’t wait to see it as you struggle to take my cock.”
A single snick and your panties were ripped away and tossed to the side. Then Steve’s hand was curling on your shoulder and pushing you down.
“On your knees, bunny. And open your mouth wide.”
You obeyed, feeling yourself shiver as your face found itself at level with his hard dick. Your fingers trembled against your thighs; the need to slide them between your folds growing stronger than the instinct to push the predator away.
“It won’t fit,” you stared wide-eyed at the cock bobbing in front of you.
“It sure won’t,” Steve chuckled, cupping your face in his big palms. “But you’re still going to take it. Now, tongue out.”
A whine shrilled in your throat when the wide crown stretched your lips and pushed deep inside. The more of him was forced forward, the wider your mouth had to open and the less room to breathe was left. A cry for mercy became only a garbled pitch as Steve held your head in place and pushed his cock to the back of your throat.
Tears streamed down, your drool flooded out as he slowly withdrew. Your spit was sticking to the curve of his dick, strings of saliva breaking and splashing on your chin.
When he surged forward again, your hands flew to his thick, hairy thighs. But there was no way of stopping him from taking you as he wished. It terrified you.
It also made your pussy drip.
“That’s all sweet, bunny,” Steve groaned, feeling your tongue moving against him helplessly, your throat constricting in resistance as he speared your mouth.
“But I need more from my little bitch!” He snarled and abruptly stepped forward.
You were pushed backwards, forced to change your position from kneeling to landing on your butt. Your back hit the sturdy frame of the bed; your legs spread wide, knees pressed to your chest.
Steve had your head tipped back, hands holding you in place as he fucked your face straight from above.
With your mouth and throat in one line, he could force his cock deeper. His balls were hitting your drool-covered chin over and over again. Your choking and obscene wet sounds mixed with Steve’s lewd groans of pleasure.
“That’s it!” He moaned, dipping in and out of your throat. “Taking your mate’s cock like a good little bitch and enjoying it. I can smell it, you know.”
You wouldn’t be able to protest, even if you wanted to deny his nasty claim. The worst, however, was that Steve was right. You were spread open, dripping slick down your buttocks; your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for that monstrous cock.
You coughed and spluttered when Steve pulled out, a wheezing sob leaving your sore mouth. Steve slapped his wet cock against your cheek, then rubbed it all over your face, smearing your own spit and his pre-cum all over you. He barked at you to keep your pretty mouth open, then stuffed it with his heavy sack. Well, as much of it as he could fit in.
“Suck a little, bunny,” his instruction came out breathy, betraying how affected he was by the whole ordeal. “I know they’re a mouthful, but they’re just full of all the cum I’m going to fill you with.”
Your cunt spasmed and you let out a garbled moan.
Finally, another reprieve for much needed air was granted. Steve took half a step back, breathing heavily as he looked down at your messy, shivering form at his feet. Dark hunger flashed in his eyes and you weren’t sure, if it was only desire, or something more dangerous.
He picked you up so easily, lifting you into his arms with no strain and tossing you onto the bed. Instinctively, you squirmed up the mattress, seeking escape. Steve followed in that unrushed, steady prowl; like a predator, who already knew his prey was his to devour.
He spread your legs. You stilled, feeling tips of his claws pressing into your skin.
“My, my, bunny,” he licked his lips, “what a pretty, soaked cunt you have.”
Steve swiped his fingers higher. You squeaked when he lightly brushed your puffed, glistening folds with his claws. It made him grin wolfishly and he pressed a little harder.
“All the better to take all of your mate’s cock,” not easing his pressure on your core, Steve stretched above you.
Your thighs stayed parted wide for him, allowing him to brace the weight of his body on one arm placed next to you, while he settled on top of you.
“What tempting, hard nipples you have,” he continued his twisted fairy tale, his voice a deep, haunting caress.
“All the better to suck on and torment,” Steve closed his mouth around one peak and sucked, at the same time flicking his tongue over it.
Your back arched. Your arms encircled his back, fingers digging into the steel muscles as you held on. When his mouth moved to your other breast, one of your hands weaved into his hair. Your tugging evoked a growly rumble that reverberated against your sensitive nipple.
Steve trailed open mouth kisses up your chest and along your neck, grazing the dip over your pulse with his sharp teeth. You squirmed, a new surge of adrenaline quickening your blood flow as you remembered his promise about the bite.
When he took your mouth, it was with less vehemence than the first kiss. He coaxed your lips open and teased your tongue with his own. The fingers splayed over your pussy kept steadily moving, smearing your slick all over.
“What a sweet mouth you have,” he murmured, nipping your bottom lip. “And we already know what can be done with it.”
His blue eyes sparked as your breath hitched, when he spread your folds and dipped his fingers deeper. The fear of pain from the claws had you reacting first, though there was nothing to hurt you. He retracted them.
“You’re fucking dripping, bunny.” Steve groaned in satisfaction. “So much that I bet it trickled to your dirty rosebud, too.”
He didn’t wait for your confirmation, just slid a single digit lower, where he found exactly what he predicted. You strained against him; one of your hands shot down between your bodies to clutch at his wrist. But Steve didn’t budge, pressing his finger against your tight rim, which was slick with your juices.
“Shh, shh,” he cooed. “Why are you fighting so hard, bunny? Afraid it’s going to hurt? Or that you will cum from having your ass played with, like a weak, needy bitch?”
He circled and pressed, circled and pressed, driving you mad with sensations you couldn’t untangle.
“I promise you, my lovely bunny,” though he removed his finger from between your asscheeks, there was nothing reassuring in the dark promise he vowed against your lips- “You will cum from anything I do to your sweet body. Because you are my little bitch.”
“And it’s time that I claim what’s mine!” His snarl combined with your cry as Steve suddenly sat back and flipped you onto your stomach.
He yanked your hips up, making you kneel on the mattress. One of his hands pressed against the back of your head, pressing it into the sheets. You felt pinpricks of claws grazing your skull.
Steve settled behind you, coarse hair on his thighs tickling your delicate skin. His cock spread your swollen folds and he rocked his hips, rubbing the whole length of him against you, soaking himself in your slick. He was already wet with your saliva, but considering his size you didn’t mind him adding more lubrication.
“Ungh!” You keened when he pressed into your hole. “Too big! Steve, it’s too-”
Your toes curled, feet kicking helplessly against the mattress, as Steve ignored your pleas and inched forward.
At least he was taking it slow. But maybe slow was more tortuous than if he broke you on one, single thrust.
His hand on your head pressed harder when your body jerked in an instinctive attempt to scramble away. The other hand landed on your ass with a hard slap.
It made you clench around him, causing a new kind of ripple of pleasurable pain.
He was stretching you so much, so close to the edge of ripping pain. But for the most part it was igniting a delirious ecstasy, confusing you and burning away any protests. Your pussy wasn’t used to sensations like that, yet she welcomed it with creamy joy.
“There you go, bunny.” Steve encouraged you, delighted in the way you moaned obscenely when he was halfway in and the head of his cock nudged that special spot.
To reward you, he withdrew and slid back in, once again teasing that point. And again. And again. Until your thighs were shaking and your wetness was dripping onto the sheets.
“Almost there, huh?” He chuckled, feeling your walls fluttering. “Well then-”
He withdrew in the same steady pace, only to ram the whole length of him in one stroke on the next thrust.
You screamed, but even as the pain short-circuited your consciousness for a split of a second, your pussy spasmed.
Steve stayed buried to the hilt, relishing in your orgasm milking his cock. He didn’t wait for the aftershocks to subside, before starting a brutal rhythm. He fucked you like the animalistic monster that he was - with unparalleled hunger, incessant need, and no regard for your discomfort.
“Good girl, bunny.” He draped his weight over you, hot breath fanning your cheek. “Such a good bitch for your mate.”
He licked a wet line along your jaw, then down to the crook of your neck. Your mewling protest was ignored as Steve scraped his teeth over the spot he was going to mark.
“Do you feel it swelling?” He teased. “Do you feel it spreading you wider each time I drive into your tiny pussy? My knot ’s about to pop, bunny. And when it does, I’m going to fill you so much. It’s going to lock your cunt in place, so that you have no other choice, but to take every fucking load.”
“Until it feels like your belly is too heavy. Like you’re about to burst at the seams.” His thrust became harsher, jerky and - just like he said - each stretching you with the growing knot. “Like your cunt aches from taking too much.”
“And you will take it all, bunny. You know why?” Steve’s teeth dipped into your skin, not yet breaking, but threatening. “Yeah, you do. You know why. Say it!”
He slapped your ass when you didn’t reply, only moaned helplessly..
“Say it!” He spanked you again.
“Because I’m your little bitch!” You cried out, face half buried into the sheets and tears streaking down.
Beast’s teeth sunk into your skin, breaking it and drawing a flow of blood. His jaw locked in, just like his cock did in your pussy. Inflated knot, spreading you wider than ever before, shifted your channel so that the crown of Steve’s cock rested right against your cervix. And he bathed it in his seed.
White haze filled your brain as the pinnacle of pleasure and zap of pure pain switched off your consciousness.
When you groggily reconnected with bits of reality, your body was curled on its side. Steve’s body was aligned with yours; his cock still nestled deep inside of you. His arms were holding you tight, providing enough warmth for you to realize the tremors rocking you weren’t from cold, but the aftershocks from an orgasm.
Though you weren’t sure if it was still the one his knot ignited, or if the werewolf coaxed another climax out of you while you were unconscious.
You wouldn’t put it past him.
“Steve-” you croaked out.
“I’ve got you, bunny.” He tenderly kissed your shoulder. “I’ve got you and I always will. Your ever after, mate.”
#scaretale universe#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers smut#werewolf!steve rogers#chris evans smut#all the better to eat you
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FIVE MOAR HORS
trust me -
chapter one
series masterlist / chapter two
pairing: stucky x curvy!reader (dark!steve/soft!dark steve and bucky/soft!dark bucky)
warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. smut. non consensual voyeurism. mentions of paranoia and anxiety. light hair pulling. mention of overstimulation. m masturbation. unprotected sex. +18 ONLY. (if i’m missing something important pls let me know!)
words: 5.7k
notes: the smut is atrocious i apologize in advance 💀 i’m really excited for this series - i hope you guys are too! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading 🖤
“Steve?” your voice fell into the quiet surrounding you as you called out into the dark, turning to look behind you, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know what may have been waiting. Worry and fear coursing through your veins as you could have sworn you heard footsteps coming up from behind. Panicking internally, you didn’t know if you should freeze or turn back around and run as fast as you could manage. After a second, you found yourself doing neither, instead taking a small step forward, in the direction of the noise you heard, in the opposite direction you had been heading.
Why? You didn’t know. Maybe deep down, you were hoping it was him. To finally put an end to all of this. Maybe you had some sort of death wish.
But no, you weren’t suicidal. A masochist, maybe.
Or maybe you just couldn’t really believe it was him. It couldn’t be. You were so careful.
You had been so careful.
Taking another step, you held your breath as you tried to squint into the darkness. You couldn’t see anything. There was nothing to see. You were alone. Of course you were alone.
You were paranoid as anxiety ate at you. You spun around and continued forward into the pitch black night, only trees surrounding you as you tried to orient yourself in the thick forest you found yourself in. You had made sure not to bring a lot with you. You were armed only with your backpack, the clothes on your back, shoes on your feet, and the biggest jug of water you could find at the house.
You’d removed all devices you had previously had on you, left your tactsuit behind, too. You didn’t know what had trackers and what didn’t. You didn’t know what to trust so you left nearly everything behind.
Did you have any clue where you were going? No. But you knew you had to go somewhere. You had to get out of there. You had to get away from him. From them, you forced yourself to correct the thought.
It had been two weeks since you had been sent on a solo recon mission. It was easy. Simple. Safe. Or it was supposed to be, at least.
It was also highly confidential. Steve had given you specific instructions as to what you could discuss, nearly nothing, and who you could tell about your assignment, essentially no one. It seemed like it was only him and Bucky who were in the loop at the time and though you were iffy on not keying Stark in, Steve assured you it was for the best. That everyone who needed to know would know when the time came.
And he wouldn’t even tell you the whole story. That should have been your sign to know that something was up. The second he called you in, you just knew something was off. He was acting so differently. Everything in you was telling you that something wasn’t right, but you ignored the feeling. You were known to be a bit..overly cautious. It was something you were working on. And of course the one time you decide to ignore your intuition, this would be the situation you find yourself in.
You had arrived at the safe house the night before you were set to head into the small, unsuspecting European town where the supposed “marks” were working. The more you thought on your assignment, the less sense it made. You tried to brush it off, tried convincing yourself it was the lack of information you were given that was making things seem as unclear as they were. And who were you to question the Captain America? You were still fairly new to being in the field, still recovering from your last mission..from the attack. You were in no place to question anything right now, and certainly not from the man who helped save your life mere weeks ago. He trusted you with this assignment and you should be thanking him for getting you back out there, even if this assignment was a little too easy, it was more than you had to do lately. You just had to locate their base, take some pictures, and report back to Steve. It wasn’t complicated, and there was nothing to worry about..
Still, there was a nagging voice in your head and an odd feeling in your gut trying to tell you that something was wrong.
You made yourself a quick dinner with what you had found in the cupboards and the surprisingly well stocked and kept fridge. The house was certainly one of Tony’s better ones. It seemed like more of a vacation home with how nice it was. And though it was certainly in a more desolate, hard to find or access area, it was still gorgeous. You stared out the window while you ate, looking into the trees that surrounded the place. It was dark out. Still, serene. The view was captivating. But out of nowhere, you were taken out of your peaceful state and almost dropped the plate you were holding when you thought you saw someone outside.
It was a blur, but you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of, well you weren’t sure, but you swore you saw something. You were instantly on edge and grabbed your pistol as your eyes scanned all around the outside. You slowly approached the back door and shoved it open before stepping outside and checking the perimeter of the house. The coast was clear and you didn’t see or hear anything other than the insects and birds that were nearby. Walking back inside, you locked the door behind you and proceeded to check every window and the front and side doors to ensure they were locked as well. When you were satisfied, you cleaned up your small mess and decided on a shower to calm your nerves. Shaking your head at yourself, you sent a quick message to Steve to let him know you were at the safe house and would be heading into town the next morning. You threw your phone on the bed and as you pulled your shirt over your head, thought you heard a door squeaking open. As you shifted your feet, you heard the floor squeaking beneath you and chided yourself for being so jumpy for no reason.
You walked to the bathroom and started the water, letting it warm up as you continued to undress. Once you were done stripping, you got in and tried willing yourself to relax.
You were just about finished showering when you heard your phone going off. You finished up quickly, rinsing off and jumped out of the shower to grab it. You weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings and you didn’t see him waiting for you. Even if you had, though, there was no way you would have been able to escape him. He was too fast. Too strong. And he knew your weaknesses better than anyone.
The shriek you let out when his arms wrapped around your vulnerable body from behind you was piercing and utterly useless. Your hands instantly found him as his head fell to your shoulder while he laughed. You heavily exhaled your breath, shakily as you tried to ground yourself. The feeling of warmth and flesh under one hand and hard vibranium plates under the other, paired with the laughter you could recognize anywhere was like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you, but a relief and comfort in the same breath. You elbowed him in the ribs, but it did little to phase him.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he laughed. “I had to,”
“Yeah, that’s really fuckin’ funny, Bucky,” you bit. “Let go of me, jackass,” you huffed as you tried to struggle out of his arms, still completely naked and your body wet from the shower. He clearly couldn’t have cared less as his hold on you only tightened while you hit at him and he continued to laugh. As angry as you wanted to be, you felt you couldn’t. You hadn’t told him everything about the attack that night. He couldn’t have known how affected you really were by his little scare, how fucked up and unfunny it was to you. You were sure if he had known, he’d never have done it. In fact, you were sure he’d never have let you come out here by yourself in the first place if he knew. That’s part of the reason you had decided not to tell him the whole story. There was no point in worrying him over it.. Steve had said much the same when you were on your way home after it went down.
“Aw, you get scared so easily, don’t you, princess,” he said teasingly, clearly amused with himself.
“Bucky, let me go, seriously! I’m dripping wet,” you complained as you struggled away from him..
“I’m counting on it,” he responded smoothly as he spun you around and shoved you back, causing you to fall onto the bed before he crawled on top of you.
“What the hell are you even doing here? How did you get here?” you asked, annoyed, as you tried to roll out from under him.
“Steve sent me. There’s been a change of plans,” he said nonchalantly as he kept you exactly where he wanted you, eyes hungry as he drank you in and his hands ran up and down your soft skin.
“What change?” you muttered out as you writhed beneath him, his fingers tickling you as he brushed over your sensitive areas knowingly.
“Don’t know. He said he’ll fill us in when he gets here,” he said into your neck in between kisses.
“Wait, he’s coming here, too? That doesn’t seem..like, strange at all to you?” you asked as you again tried to get him off of you.
“I’m not worried,” he said coolly. “All he said was to meet you here, let you know that your assignment and mine are both on hold and that he’ll be here as soon as he can. We just have to stay put and wait. And there are certainly worse orders to follow and worse places to be locked down at. Trust me,” he said as he pulled away from you, only to move back in to kiss you.
“He’s not gonna be here until tomorrow night at the earliest. I can think of a lot of things we can do to kill the time,” he said against your skin. “And I missed you so much, baby,” he murmured.
“Missed you, too, Buck,” you replied weakly. You were tired and honestly still a little upset, maybe shaken was the better word, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Or think about it for that matter. Instead you found yourself pulling him closer to you by his hair. You stared into his eyes, trying to reassure yourself of your safety. You had nothing to worry about, especially not with Bucky here. After a moment, you pulled him into another kiss.
Bucky was back on top of you, letting his hands wander wherever they pleased, taking full advantage of your lack of clothing.
“Buck,” you breathed.
“Hm?” he hummed against your skin. You moved to sit up and he backed off slightly, helping you. You were now propped up against the pillows, making yourself comfortable before you moved to spread your legs around him, putting your entire body on display for him. His eyes glided down your body before they dropped down to your glistening pussy and he groaned at the sight, letting his hands glide down your body until they reached the top of your thick thighs, squeezing the supple flesh of your hips.
“Take your clothes off,” you told him wantingly.
Bucky wasted no time in doing exactly that while you looked on, admiring the flex of his muscles as he removed his clothing. He was right back on you in the blink of an eye, wearing a smirk that could kill.
“Say no more,” he simpered as you laughed before he kissed you once again. Deep and loving and exactly what you needed. He pulled away from you, his blue eyes dark, breathing heavier as he slowly made his way down your body, taking time to lavish kisses and lovebites to every inch of skin he could.
You moaned when he took a nipple in his mouth, suckling on you while his hand played with your other breast, tugging and pulling at your nipple, causing you to wince at his touch. His hands slid down your tummy and returned to your hips, pulling you closer to him before he placed soft kisses all over your stomach, paying special attention to your marks and scars while you let your head fall back and your eyes shut in pleasure, your fingers winding themselves into his hair. He made his way lower until his lips were on your clit, instantly causing you to moan out as he sucked.
His tongue darted out past his lips, licking at you expertly before he moved further down, bringing his left hand to your entrance. Using his thick fingers to rub at you, he smeared your wetness around before he pumped two fingers inside of you.
“You’re so fucking wet, princess,” he admired. “You miss me?” he asked tauntingly.
“Mhm,” you nodded desperately, fingers tugging at his hair, urging him back to where you needed him to be. “So much.”
“Good,” he said before moving his fingers deeper inside of you until you cried out as he was curling against you perfectly. He let you have your way as his soft lips returned to your clit, sucking harsher than he had before, tongue teasing you as he fucked you on his vibranium fingers. You were a mess of moans and whimpers as he played you so easily. You were clenching down on his fingers the closer he brought you to your orgasm, and he had you begging for him to make you come. It wasn’t long after that he had you crying his name and tugging his hair to get him to stop the overstimulation. He pulled away from you, licking his lips as he looked at you like you were an angel sent from heaven above.
“I’ll never get enough of you, you know that?” he said, gently removing his fingers from you and bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean while you stared at him, mouth agape. He leaned back over you and crashed his lips into yours, the taste of yourself on his tongue had you keening as you pulled him closer.
“I love you,” you breathed against his lips.
“I love you more,” he rasped before finding your lips again, his arms wrapping under you, hugging you to him. You could feel his hard length against your thigh, throbbing when you gently nipped at his lip and let your hand wander down his torso softly before your fingers delicately teased his cock. His eyes squeezed shut, his pink lips parting as he let out a sharp exhale, letting you do as you please.
You stroked his cock as you peppered kisses down his throat. Taking your time and relishing the sounds of pleasure spilling from his lips, raining praises down on you and moaning your name. You were smearing his precum around the head of his cock, pumping him faster, when he cursed, sounding like your touch burned him. You couldn’t help your little smirk when he nearly whimpered as you let go of his length.
“Please, baby,” Bucky choked out, looking at you with pleading, ocean blue eyes.
You flipped around, forcing Bucky to do the same so he was against the pillows now and you were above him, eyes locked on his, blue swimming in lust and need, you were sure yours looked much the same. You held his face in your hands, pulling him to you, noses brushing when you kissed him with everything you had to give. Trying to get across how badly you needed him, too. Though his arrival was unexpected to say the least, you couldn’t have been more grateful to have him here.
You always felt safe with him, you knew you were safe with him. And that’s what you needed, after everything. You needed Bucky. You’d spent all of a few hours with him the past week and you didn’t realize how badly you’d been missing him. He finally pulled away from your kiss, his hands finding your face in return, eyes full of concern now as he searched your face.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he cooed, voice gentle, wanting to ease you, but commanding enough to get you to meet his gaze.
“Nothing,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just- I’ve really missed you,” you deflected. You almost felt bad for not telling him everything, knowing he’d want to know, but you weren’t fully lying to him, either. You really had missed him. “I need you, Bucky.” you mewled, lowering yourself down onto him, grinding your ass against his cock, earning a pained moan from him that turned into a hiss.
“I know, baby. I know,” he told you. “I need you, too,” he panted, moving your hips back so that his cock was better positioned at your entrance. He slid his dick against your pussy, up and down, as his head nudged deliciously at your sensitive clit. You couldn’t help yourself and started moving against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you. You sat higher up, kneeling over him now. You gripped his thick length and positioned him at your slick opening before slowly sliding down on him, moaning out at the instant stretch as Bucky gripped your wide hips, his rough hands moving to knead your ample ass, relishing the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him.
You began riding his dick, slow and achingly for both of you. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of him inside of you, the nudging of your clit against him with each grind of your hips. Bucky’s hands moved up to your chest, squeezing your heavy breasts in his hands before he leaned up and buried his face in them, licking and kissing your nipples, being encouraged by the way your walls squeezed him even tighter at the sensation. When he pulled away from your chest, he pulled your face down to his, pulling on your hair to do so. His lips crashed into yours heatedly. He gripped your hips once again, taking control of your motions now, and thrusting up into your tight heat. You cried out at his first few thrusts, the sound muffled by his tongue exploring your mouth. He didn’t let up and you soon found yourself grinding back onto him, meeting his every thrust. His hands slid up your back, holding you while he continued fucking up into you, the sound of your flesh slapping against his with every thrust and your moans and cries mingling with Bucky’s grunts and pants filling the room.
“You’re so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl,” he praised through heavy breaths. “You take my cock so well.”
You mewled again at his words and found yourself on your back in a heartbeat as Bucky flipped you both over again. Your legs instinctivelly wrapped around him as he fucked into you, hitting so deep. You felt near dazed, drunk of the high of him, you swore you could see stars. The glide of his thick cock inside you was overwhelming, bordering on too much to handle. You didn’t think you’d be able to hold your orgasm if you tried. “I’m so close,” you whispered. “Mm, ‘m gonna come, Bucky, I’m gonna come.” you crooned.
“Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you squeeze me, baby. Let go for me,” he coaxed as he rocked his hips against you, the motion stimulating your clit. That was the last little bit you needed to push you over the edge, to let go completely. You came with a shout, crying at the sheer euphoria, legs tightening around him as you did.
The grip you had on his cock had Bucky coming almost immediately after you, which let you know he had been close for a while and fought off his own orgasm to ensure you came first, like he always did. Your pleasure was always his number one priority. He made it well known to you from the very first time you slept together, and every time thereafter.
You felt like you were in heaven, Bucky’s heavy body atop you, your hands running soothingly up and down his back as you both came down from your highs, his head buried in your neck, both of you trying to calm your breathing. After a few minutes of lying there, Bucky tenderly pulled out of you, placing a kiss on your forehead as he got up from the bed and moved into the bathroom. You heard the sink run for a second and Bucky was back before you a moment later. He gently cleaned you up with a damp rag and then himself before he settled back down on the mattress. You smiled lazily at him as he pulled you into his arms. You laughed at nothing, just the feeling of happiness bubbling its way out past your lips as you nuzzled into his chest, his warmth surrounding you as he pulled the comforter around your intertwined bodies.
“That was really good,” you sighed.
“That was amazing,” he grinned in return.
“You’re always amazing,” you told him, looking up to meet his eyes, needing him to know how sincere you were.
“Such a sweet talker,” he laughed at you, causing you to smile in turn. You rested your head against his chest again as his hands now ran soothingly up and down your back.
“I’ve missed this. I feel like we haven’t had any time together lately. I’ve missed just being with you, ya know?” you murmured.
He hummed in response, placing a kiss a top your head.
“I know. I’ve missed it, too. But we’re gonna have time together now. No missions to get in the way, nothing to worry about.”
“Until Steve gets here,” you responded glumly.
“We’ll still have each other when he does,” he reminded you. “It’ll be nice, all of us getting to spend time with each other.” You furrowed your brow as you took in his words..
“Working isn’t really the same thing as spending time together,” you argued.
“No, I just meant, you know none of us have really seen each other much lately..” he tried to explain. You didn’t really get what he was saying, but didn’t want to start an argument over nothing.
“Okay,” you allowed. “I just meant that I miss you. Alone time with you. Just you.”
Bucky looked at you, eyes filled with something akin to guilt. “It’s okay, though. We’re both busy, it’s not like it’s your fault,” you wanted to assure him, ease any sense of guilt he might have had.
He smiled weakly, kissing your forehead again, holding you a little tighter.
“This’ll be good for us,” he whispered into your hair. It was only going to be a day you’d have alone with each other, but you figured he was right, it would be good for you both. Might as well make the most of what time you had together before Steve arrived and you were back to focusing on the mission. Whatever it really was…
The rest of your first night at the safe house was spent entirely wrapped around Bucky. Your cuddling turned into making out that turned into soft cockwarming that inevitably turned into sex, again and again. He showered you with his love and sweet words, drowning you in his affection. Making sure you knew how much he’d missed you. How much he cared for you. You weren’t sure what time it was that you eventually fell asleep, but it was well into the early hours of morning.
Your lack of sleep, however, had no effect on your alarm. It was nearing 8:30 when you begrudgingly forced yourself to get up, prying Bucky’s arms from around you in order to do so. You had showered last night but that clean feeling was long gone now. You knew you smelled like sex and sweat and you were sure the sheets and blankets did, too. You made a mental note to wash them as soon as Bucky got up, figuring he’d sleep for a little while longer. That wasn’t the case, you realized as his hand grabbed yours when you moved to walk away from the bed. You looked back at him and his eyes were still bleary with sleep as he tugged at you.
“Where you going?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.
“To shower,” you said quietly, running your free hand through his messy bed head.
He groaned before he let go of your hand and propped himself up. “I’ll join you.”
An hour later you were toweling off and putting your clothes for the day on as Bucky took the bedding to the washer. The very expensive washer. You made a comment about how upscale this safe house was compared to what you’d had to stay in before, how it seemed more like a vacation home instead. Bucky just let out a light, awkward laugh, “Seems that way.” Weirdly avoiding looking at you as he grabbed the comforter off the floor and went to the laundry room.
You watched him as he left, curious, but choosing to focus on finishing getting ready.
If you let yourself think too long about why you were here in the first place, you started to get a little ancy, bordering on paranoid - like you often did. But knowing that Bucky wasn’t concerned or worried helped quell those feelings. You trusted him and his instincts, so if he didn’t think much of it, you knew it was probably all in your head.
It didn’t take much longer to finish up in the bedroom, and you headed to the kitchen. You walked in on Bucky on the phone, when he saw you he seemed to cut the conversation short with a, “fine, we’ll see you when you get here.”
“Steve?” you asked as you moved further into the room.
“Yeah. He’s gonna be here around eight,” he responded, running a hand through his hair.
“Did he say anything?”
“About what?” he asked, looking at you.
“The mission? Like, what we’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere, not telling anyone what we’re doing or why,” you said, growing agitated at the feeling of being in the dark in regards to whatever was going on.
“Don’t stress, sweetheart. He’s gonna tell us all about it tonight. Let’s make breakfast,” he said, wanting to get your mind off of things.
“That’s another thing,” you started, not wanting to let this go so easily. “This place is fully stocked with perishables, don’t you think that’s odd?”
“Baby, your mission has been planned for two weeks. Steve probably had a contact bring stuff over before you got here so you’d have edible food.”
“But I was only supposed to stay here one night, two tops,” you returned. “There’s enough food to last at least four people for a good week or two.”
“Maybe someone was supposed to be coming in after you. You’re not the only agent in the world, ya know?” he tried to joke, but his brushing off of your thoughts rubbed you the wrong way. You decided to go outside, clear your head hopefully.
“I’m gonna go walk around for a bit,” you said.
Bucky was in front of you in a flash, blocking your way.
“You can’t,” was all he said.Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him.
“I can’t?” you repeated, growing more annoyed.
“No. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna worry you, but Steve said we need to lay low. No comings or goings until he’s here.”
“Bucky, what the fuck is going on?” you asked, exasperated.
“We’ll figure it out when Steve gets here, okay? I promise.” He reached out to rub your arm, but you shrugged back, avoiding his touch. Eyes hard as you examined his face intently, your eyes searching his.
“I know you know something, Bucky.” You stated, not an ounce of doubt in your voice.
“Baby, please. Just trust me.” He said, almost pleading, but with the subtle hint of authority his voice naturally held. You swallowed the lump in your throat at that. Willing yourself to calm down. You did trust him. With everything you had, you trusted him.
You stepped closer and took his face in your hands, making direct eye contact, gazing into the deep blues of his eyes, making sure he was fully seeing you and hearing you before you spoke.
“You know I trust you. Please don’t give me a reason not to.”
He was looking right back at you as he nodded his head and you slipped your hands from his face, taking a step back from him. “Okay, then,” you huffed. “Make me pancakes or something.”
His face brightened instantly as he smiled at you, looking relieved. “Your wish is my command,” he replied smoothly.
You tried to let the gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right go, but it was still there in the back of your mind. You cooked and ate with Bucky at your side before you set to wash the dishes as he went back to the laundry room to put the bedding in the dryer.
You met back up in the living room, deciding on a movie to pass the time as you cozied up with him under the throw blanket. The day passed a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, knowing your alone time would come to an end soon. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy being around Steve, you did, you’d just been away from Bucky for so long you wanted to stay in your own little bubble with him for as long as you could. This little glimpse into what domestic life with Bucky would be like made your heart soar and had you looking to the future with brighter eyes than you had before. You made lunch together then cleaned up and found yourselves getting lost in one another again as Bucky had you up against the counter, pushing his weight into you as you kissed each other greedily. He spun you around and bent you over the counter top, slipping his joggers down and your sweats down right after. Your toes were barely touching the floor with each thrust Bucky made into you. Your hips would be sore later from the harsh pounding against the wood, but the pleasure lighting through you had you not caring in the slightest. If you had been paying more attention to your surroundings, if your eyes hadn’t been squeezed shut in ecstasy as Bucky took you from behind, maybe you would have taken notice of the little surveillance camera that was hidden across the room, pointed right at you.
On a quinjet about five hours away, Steve watched as you came undone on Bucky’s cock. He couldn’t resist from pulling himself out of his pants as he looked on, slowly pumping his own stiff cock, desperately wanting to know how it’d feel if it was your hands stroking him, or your mouth sucking him dry, or your cunt wrapped around him as he fucked you. He was cursing and growling as he pumped himself faster and tighter, watching as Bucky carried you to the couch, positioning you perfectly, giving him the best view of you as you and Bucky started round two. He could hear your moans and cries along with Bucky’s panting and dirty talk while he got himself off. As he continued watching Bucky fuck you, he finally let himself go when you came for the third time, Bucky following shortly after. He cursed under his breath, regaining his breathing as he cleaned his mess and zipped his pants back up. Letting out a heavy sigh as he looked on at Bucky kissing you adoringly, you cuddling into him. He couldn’t wait until that was him, too. Until he was there with you, showering you with all the affection he’s had to keep to himself - and Bucky on the rare occasion they had any time alone. When he wasn’t on a mission or training, he was with you. He tried hard not to resent him, he knew it was all part of the plan, but he was having a harder and harder time seeing you two together when he couldn’t have either of you the way he wanted.
He had been waiting so long to finally get you out there. To finally get his share of your affections. The last mission you were on was too close of a call. He almost lost it completely and that would’ve ruined everything. He hadn’t even told Bucky what really went down, just that he couldn’t keep waiting forever. Despite Bucky’s protest, claiming you still needed more time to get introduced to the idea, Steve went ahead with his plan anyway. Bucky might be a little pissed at him for this whole scheme, but it’d work out for all three of you in the end. He was sure of it. He really couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be there. To be with you. Five hours. Just five more hours.
#trust me series#dark!stucky#dark!steve rogers#dark!bucky barnes#dark!stucky x reader#dark!bucky x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#soft!dark steve x reader#soft!dark bucky barnes x reader#soft!dark bucky x reader#this potato is ready
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It means everything to me.
Summary: The team decides to play a truth or dare game to end the night after one of Tony’s parties. Throughout the game, reader felt eyes on her, but she doesn’t know that they came from a certain redhead. Would something grow between them once the night falls?
Warnings: G!P Nat, SMUT, hair-pulling, back shots against door, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Nat jus bein rough n jealous, 18+ MINORS DNI
WC: 3,154
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Rogers!Reader
————♡————
Stark parties at the compound were so very often hosted, it could have been for any occasion. As long as Tony thought it was a good time to celebrate, he’d host a party for that night. Today just happened to be one of those nights.
You, your brother Steve, Bucky, and Wanda were sent out on a mission four days ago. You four came back to the compound and deemed the mission successful, which made Tony practically jump up and exclaim that he’d host a party for tonight for another mission gone well.
You were definitely a party person, the life of a party whether you were drunk or not. But goddamn? The last party the team hosted felt like yesterday to you, when it was actually last week, but that was still close enough right?
As of right now, you were getting ready for his party, as you take a quick glance at your phone, it was 5:45 and the party was at six, so you definitely had enough time to be ready by then. You set down your phone as you went straight to your closet, your makeup already done.
After rummaging through your dresses, it took you a few minutes before you came across your dress of the night and put it on. It was a backless maroon dress with a slit that went dangerously high on your upper thigh, the back of the dress incredibly accentuated your ass to which you appreciated.
Overall it was a great dress, who were you going to impress? You weren’t sure but you had an idea though. You strolled out of your closet and heard a knock echo through your bedroom, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You still had way more time you wondered as you went to open the door.
There stood Bucky clad in a dark blue suit, hand still raised in the air as if he was going to open the door. Regaining his composure instantly, he drops the hand and leans against your doorway.
“You clean up nice, Buck. Didn’t think you still knew how to groom yourself with all that time you were up in the ice.” You tease lightly as you step back from your door and heading over to your vanity, putting in shiny gold earrings to complement the red.
“Hey… Don’t get used to it though.” He acts slightly hurt before switching to a joking manner. “But do hurry up, doll. At this point the party will be waiting up on you.”
“I’m done, was just putting in earrings. Now cmon, I need a drink.” You slip on your red bottomed heels and brush past Bucky as you head down the corridor of the elevator, laughing slightly as he tries to catch up before the doors close.
As soon as the elevators open to where the party was being held, you went straight to the bar, in desperate need for a drink. Your eyes widen slightly before you smirk, realizing that Natasha had been put on bar duty.
Natasha was glammed up, hair curled down to her back, a long fitted emerald dress that showed off all her curves, it ran down to her knees and glimmered in the light. Her bright red lipstick complimenting it as she also has on some emerald earrings.
You approach the bar, surprised Natasha hadn’t caught sight of you yet, until you stood right in front of her eyes, smirking.
“Hey Nat, what got you doing bar duty tonight?” You lean against the bar counter, your arms crossed. The action making Natasha stare down at your breasts hungrily before she snaps her attention back onto you.
The thing was that you and Nat had this thing going on, where you’d both go back and forth with trying to flirt with each other. You never knew when exactly it started, Nat just started calling you pet names and being more touchy one day.
But what she didn’t know was that the game got real on your side. You didn’t know what changed but you started becoming more flustered with her advances and even started blushing, something you never did. Until you realized, you liked her.
It had come a shock to you at first but as time passed, you came to terms with it and just played along with Natasha. It wasn’t like she liked you back, you doubt it, hell she might even be cuddling it up with Bruce.
“Fella did me wrong.”
“You got a real weird taste when it comes to your people Nat.” You laugh as you sat upon one of the many stools in front of the counter.
“It’s not all bad, and my taste in people are quite immaculate if you asked me, Y/n” She raised an eyebrow as she prepared your usual whiskey neat, before sliding it over to you as you laugh.
“Alright, alright, I’ll catch you later, Red” You stood up, your whiskey in hand as you go out to the couches and plopped yourself right next to Sam.
————♡————
You had completely lost track of what time it was, the party was long over and the after party had just started.
You were sat in between Sam and Bucky with Tony on the far side of the couch. Across from you had been Bruce Natasha and Clint, while to the couch on the right of you was Wanda, Vision. The couch left of you consisted of Tony, Thor, and Steve.
The team was so drunk they could barely uphold their conversations with one another. Thats how bad it was, and it was embarrassing that you were especially drunk too.
Soon after, Tony stood up from his side of the couch and stepped forward while raising both of his arms. He proposed a game of truth or dare, refuse to do it, you take a shot. Your lips curled up into a smirk, you honestly couldn’t tell if you were too drunk or not but you did know that you wanted to play.
After hearing the majority of the team agree, Tony had prepared a line of shots, just enough for the first few people before starting off the game.
“Truth or dare, Capsicle.” Tony stared at Steve, a smug smirk planted on his face as he awaits Steves answer.
“Truth.”
“Is it true that Bucky was the cause of those “mosquito bites” when you came out to breakfast the other day?”
Bucky shifted in his seat at the mention of his name which made you shake in laughter as he playfully smacks your arm, catching the eye of Natasha.
“Yes.” Steve admitted, his face flushing a deep color of red as he leans back into the couch, before regaining his composure and picking his victim. “Wanda, Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” She raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk plays on her face.
“I dare you to give somebody in this room a lapdance. EXCEPT Vision.” Making Wanda widen her eyes slightly as she turns her head to look at Vision, to which he nods in confirmation, letting her know its alright.
Wanda stands from her seat, slightly surveying the area before her eyes land on Sam, she approaches you with a torturously slow walk as she pretends to walk to Sam, before snapping her head to you and finding her place on your lap.
Your eyes widen in shock as Tony tells Friday to dim the lights and play a song. You didn’t know what song it was, you were hyper focused with Wanda on your lap. You thought she was going to pick Sam, why you?
Across from you sat Natasha, you noticed she was fuming in her seat as she watched Wanda’s little show. Her knuckles turned white due to her deathly grip on the couch while a scowl was firmly planted on her face. If Natasha had been put into a cartoon, she would have definitely had smoke coming out of her ears.
Natasha was on her last straw when it came to the dance, all she wanted to do was stand up and rip Wanda off of you and take you for herself. As soon as she brushed away those thoughts, Wanda’s dance had already ended. But what she didn’t see was you sighing in relief after she retreated to her seat.
—���——♡————
You and the team got a few more rounds in and this round ended up having Natasha as the victim.
“Truth or dare, Natasha.” Clint said as he bites his cheek to compose himself for her answer.
“Dare, arrowboy.” She smirks as she turns her whole body to face Clint as he begins cackling.
“Swap clothes with the person you find most attractive in this room.” He grins, visibly proud at his dare.
Natasha stands wondering her next move as she looks towards Wanda, her best friend. “Just go for it, whats the worst that could happen.” Wanda says in her head while she subtly nods her head towards you.
Natasha thought it over once more before she strutted straight to you, her hips swaying as she walked, practically hypnotizing you. She held out a hand in your direction, her eyes meeting yours as they held an unspoken gentleness.
You took her hand as you lifted yourself up off the couch, you never realized how drunk you were until you were on your feet. You were slightly swaying as you tried to regain your balance, which was quick with the help of Natasha as she supported you with her other hand wrapped around your waist.
As you regained your balance, you noticed that you still were holding hands with her but you don’t find it in yourself to point it out. You move to take Natasha to another room nearby, her following behind you close by.
Once you both stumbled into an empty room, that was when you sobered up a little, but Natasha seemed drunker than ever.
“Are you sure you still want to do the dare? I could get Wanda to take you to your room.” You whisper, as you look up to meet Natashas gaze.
You saw something change in Natasha’s eyes, from a drunken look to what you think is hunger?
The emotions that were brewing up within Natasha during the lapdance burst out of her as she shoved you against the door of the room, trapping your body between her and the door.
“Nat!” You yelp, not expecting a reaction like this from Natasha.
“Ya know, I didn’t really like how Wanda was just grinding up on you..” She husks, her face inching towards yours as your gazes to each other never faltered. You can feel her hand hovering over your waist, soon stopping to rest there on the curve of your hips.
“But you wouldn’t really mind that would you, huh?” She smirked as she buried her head into your neck and kissing it slightly, leaving back bright red lipstick marks, she had also left some hickeys unbeknownst to you.
You sigh, leaning into her touch unknowingly and running your hands through her fiery hair before you pull her up gently and crash your lips onto hers.
Natasha’s lips were as soft like they looked, you could have honestly gotten obsessed with them right then and there. You deepened the kiss as one of your hands slid down to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.
You were so focused on Natasha’s lips kissing you that you didn’t feel a hard bulge pressing up against your upper thigh. But soon enough was when Natasha started getting slightly desperate, subtly grinding against you as you felt the bulge become more insistent.
That was when you pulled away, slightly concerned. “Are you sure, Nat? You’re drunker than I am.” You ask, your eyes flickering between hers and her lips.
“Yes baby, I’m sure. Plus I was at the bar handing out drinks, not downing shots with you and Wanda.” She whispered, her attitude rising with the added mention of Wanda. Her teeth grazing the skin of your neck as she nips at it before she pulls away entirely, making you whine.
“Awe detka, so desperate already? Did you get so desperate because of Wanda?” She snarled, as she flips you around by your hips, pushing your face into the door as she kept a deathly grip on you.
“Mphm! No, Nat. It’s all you.” Your voice is muffled against the door as she sternly keeps you pinned there. Your hands flat on the door to keep you stabilized as Natasha starts grinding her clothed bulge on you.
“Damn right it is.” She mumbled as she gave a harsh slap to your ass making you jolt forward into the door as you yelp. Before she continues grinding up on you.
Soon enough, Natasha reaches over to your front and over to your breasts as she gave them a quick squeeze before she trailed her hands to the straps of your dress. You peeled your hands away from the door to allow Natasha to practically rip the dress off of you.
The sight of you braless with a lacy red thong might as well make Natasha drool as her hands went straight to your ass, massaging the flesh and pulling a quiet whimper from you.
With quick efficiency, her dress was off in the blink of an eye, her boxers had an insanely large tent forming, to which you could already assume was by you.
She takes off her boxers as quickly as her dress as she positions herself behind you on the door. Leaning down, her hands find themselves on your waist as her lips find the shell of your ear, her cock just centimeters away from your dripping heat as her breasts press against your back.
“I can tell you want this as much as I do, detka. You’re practically leaking onto the floor.” She husks into your ear, she doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands up straight and slams her cock into your wet cunt making you press your cheek against the door as you moan out.
Natasha begins to pound herself into you, the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and Natasha’s grunts echo the quiet room as she ruts into your tight cunt.
“You’re so fucking tight, detka. Я не могу насытиться тобой. (I can’t get enough of you.)”She growls as she lifts her hand from your waist to pull at your hair, pulling you up to meet her front, her breasts brushing against your back once more as your back completely arches.
The new position allowed Natasha’s cock to thrust even deeper into your cunt, her thrusts were powerful, each movement drove you up the door trembling with pleasure.
She started pounding up into you at a more intense pace, making you moan in shock, the action making you push back against her cock. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair lifted from your hip, and came down on your ass once again, sending a hard slap to it as she massaged the flesh immediately after.
“Ah! Fuck!!” You cried, the pleasure was too much to even suppress your moans as you kept pushing your hips back to meet Natasha’s relentless pace. “Oh, please Nat!!” You scream as she drove into you.
“Nat, I’m gon..gonna cum, please can I cum.” You begged, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natasha fucked you dumb.
“Go ahead and cum, baby.”
To which you complied, your release had been intense but yet so full of pleasure. You trembled at reaching your climax, but to your surprise. Natasha kept rutting her cock into you as her thrusts got more and more sloppy as the seconds passed, her grunts turning into whines.
“One more baby, just for me, c’mon. I know you’ve got another in you, please.” She pleaded as her thrusts grew more sloppier as she leaned her head down into your neck, placing delicate kisses on it as she tries to muffle her whimpers.
You give her a loud moan in response, the overstimulation soon turning into overwhelming pleasure as you feel your second orgasm of the night building up in your lower belly.
“Fuck..Im gonna cum detka. I can feel you clenching around me,” She babbled slightly, her red hair fluttering over the expanse of your back as she sets a faster pace for her relentless pounding, now nibbling on your neck to prevent her moans from spilling, her hand gliding in front of you as it frantically rubs at your clit.
“Fuck!!” “Cmon baby, cum, cum on my cock.” You and Natasha cried out as you reached your second climax of the night, your tight cunt clenching impossibly more around her shaft as your juices flow out of your pussy.
The action made Natasha cum directly after you, the clenching of your soft velvety walls around her dick made her burst her seed into your womb as she let out a loud moan into the juncture of your neck.
Natasha waited a minute before pulling out slowly, the overstimulation strong as she trembled slightly. She knew you were terribly overstimulated too with the way your legs were shaking.
She watched as the both of your combined juices leak out of your cunt, a little bit of it landing on the floor as she fingered it back into you, making you moan once more.
You rested your forehead against the door in front of you before slowly turning around to face Natasha, all while still leaning on the door. Natasha had always been a beautiful sight, especially now.
Her hair was slightly tousled up, her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, her lips were smudged off of her lipstick, and her eyes held a deep softness and slight lust in them. You could always get lost in Natasha’s gorgeous eyes any day.
“Natasha, I just want to ask if this will mean anything to you. I wouldn’t want to have you like this with it not meaning anything.” You ask in a soft whisper, afraid of hearing the answer you dreaded the most.
Natasha saw the genuine sadness in your eyes as you whispered the question, the sight made her heart crack. It took her a second to respond as she gathered her words.
“I’ve loved you ever since Steve showed up with you in the living room. I always hoped that you returned those feelings I had for you. What happened between us right now, means everything to me, Y/n.” Natasha spoke softly, as if she were going to break a porcelain doll if she was any louder.
“I love you too, Nat. So much” You admit, walking up to Natasha and instantly closing the distance between you both. The kiss wasn’t lust filled at all, it was full of love and passion, something that you and Natasha always had for each other.
#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha smut#natasha x reader#natasha romanov#marvel#the avengers#black widow x reader#mcu#natalia romanova#black widow smut
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Spiders Dance
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Supersoldier!Reader
HIII!! super rough and unedited but I wanted to get it out. I am new to writing smut so bare with me lol. I've had this in my drafts for a min so figured I get it out! Hope you enjoy ;)
Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Nat, Top!Reader, Violence, IDK JUST PLEASE MDI
Summary: Natasha was a flirt, it was easy and entertaining, but she took a keen interest in flirting with you; Toying with you on a mission however, may not have been the best idea, or was it?
"Morning soldier," Nat greeted, causing you to blush immediately as you finished rinsing your fruits.
"Hey, Nat, want any fruit," you offered. The girl made you extremely flustered when it came to her comments, but besides that you had real friendship with the her
"No, thank you, but you could hand me a bowl," doing as she said you opened the cabinet above you handing Nat her request, "Thanks," she said taking the bowl letting your fingers touch and running her other hand across your broad shoulders as she passed you.
You flushed quickly, turning around clumsily your elbow hit the cabinet you had left open and your bowl of fruit drop straight to the floor.
Those in the kitchen laughed at the regular interaction as Wilson mumbled out a teasing, "nice one, y/l/n," as you rubbed the back of your neck and stared at the spilled fruit and empty Tupperware on the floor.
"yeah, yeah whatever," you grumbled out picking up your fruit as Wanda helped you giving you a pity smile and Nat smirked amused in the corner.
"You ever gonna give the girl a break," Clint asked walking up beside Nat as the two watched you wash your fruit again and get another bowl leaving the kitchen.
"Absolutely not," Nat said making her bowl of oatmeal, "the day's just begun, and we have training soon."
You had headed back to your room to save yourself any more embarrassment. You didn't mind the flirting by Nat, it boosted your ego and you were head over heals for the woman. She was perfect in your eyes, which was terrifying. She was brave, very skilled in her job, very stubborn, a little pridefull, but she was genuinely kind, understanding, and absolutely stunning. That's why she had so much power over you. You did everything she asked of you and practically dropped to your knees whenever she batted her eyelashes; everyone knew it.
You have yet to figure out her true intentions with her comments, but you knew they were too detailed and persistent for it not to mean anything. Whether it was just lust or whether she became the love of your life, it didn't matter to you yet, you just wanted her… and maybe a little payback for all the times she's embarrassed you. You spent a little time in your room finishing up mission reports but inevitably headed down to the main gym early. It was team training today which means more rosy cheeks and school girl butterflies are coming your way. You decided it’d be safe to work up a little sweat so you could at least attempt to excuse the blush on your face.
“Hey,” Steve greeted as he approached the treadmill you were stretching next to, “you beat me, here."
“don’t be shocked rogers, I am suppose to be the better model,” you teased
“i think people prefer the original,” he returned, as he began his stretches as well.
The two of you ended up running for about 45 minutes; you reaching 33 miles, Steve 31.
“people can prefer you more, but numbers don’t lie,” you spoke as the two of you walked over to the waters with a light sweat.
Steve was ready to reply when the gym doors opened with Wilson, Bucky, and the Maximoff’s entering and greeting you.
You announced to all of them how you beat Steve and began a discussion about who’s the best super soldier as Nat and Clint entered.
Natasha’s eyes landed on you immediately and that glowing sheen of sweat. Nat practically went feral whenever she caught you training or even in the field, basically anytime your muscles were pumped and you were showing off your strength, which is why she loveddd training with you.
As the team did their separate warm-ups, they eventually made it to the big mat to run scenarios on Vision, who made a reasonable subject as he was made of the strongest metal on Earth. Each of them took their turns and contributing pointers.
“Hey soldier,” Nat greeted joining your side and looking up at you.
“Tasha,” you smiled warmly, “no distractions this session please,” you breathed jokingly
“what me? you do your own share of distracting,” she spoke alluringly.
You raised you eyebrows in question
she smirked touching your bicep lightly as you looked down at your tight black compression tee, “your training shirts don’t leave much to imagine.” Your jaw clenched hard enough to shatter your teeth as your face lit up once more leaving you unable to respond besides a small laugh, “don’t worry soldier,” she stood on her tippy toes as you leaned your ear towards her and she whispered, “I really don’t mind.”
“y/l/n,” Sam shouted, “why don’t you and Steve spar so we can decide who’s really the better model."
You forced a smile still caught up in what Nat said, “winner goes against Buck,” you proposed as Steve and Bucky immediately engaged in banter. You looked back to Nat who was already walking away with that dumb sway in her hips.
“Ahem,” Steve cleared his throat waiting in the middle.
“Let the soldier gawk for a min,” Bucky laughed as everyone was already giggling.
Walking to the middle of the mat your jaw clenched with the tension Nat at fueled, “Ready, kid,” Steve smiled extending his hand, you shook off your thoughts and accepted his hand.
You began with light jabs and blocks, both of them moving with an easy grace. Steve feinted to the left, then quickly punched you right in the face falling away from the punch as you gave a small laugh.
You responded with a quick, kick aimed at Steve's shin, eyes sparkling as you got back up quickly and made brief eye contact with Nat going straight back in for another punch; Steve dodged it impressively giving your hair a playful ruffle, receiving a feigned glare. You then get caught off guard once more by the red head over Steve’s shoulder this time getting tooo lost in her and allowing Steve to attempt a mock take down, you struggled briefly but slipped out of it twisting and landing an instinctual sharp kick to his ribs.
Steve dropped to his knees immediately and held a hand up clutching his rib as he gasped for air, his own being completely knocked out of him. he declared a dramatic surrender, “I concede,” he choked, “tad too hard for training kid.”
“shit, sorry,” you breathed sliding down to help him stand.
“all good just was not prepared for all that air to get knocked out,” he breathed out a laugh.
You and Sam let out a laugh as you both went to help him up.
"Yeah, if we're gonna spar can we get Romanoff to leave the room," Bucky joked receiving a smack from Wanda beside him.
"Shut it, Barnes," you said rolling your eyes, "you can just say you're scared." The team laughed at this but deep down you were a little sick of it. You could've genuinely hurt Steve.
The rest of training went pretty smoothly, you stayed as far away as you could from Nat and decided on sparring with Vision for safety.
On the way back to your room your mind was only on her. You spent the rest of the night thinking about her. You craved her in so many ways and you've never experienced the attention of such a beautiful woman, whether it was genuine or not it made you weak; weak in many ways that could lead to dangerous outcomes.
A knock pulled you out of your thoughts, you were sat on your bed freshly out the shower, in only a sports bra and shorts.
"Yeah, just a minute!"
"Hey, y/n, it's Steve," he announced from the other side of the door, "I've got a mission for you, I need you in conference room 6 for a breifing."
"Got it!" you answered opening the door dressed to see him heading in that direction," What's the job," you asked at the door only to see Nat and Maria inside.
--------------------------------------
The mission was simple get in get out. HYDRA's latest threat: a hidden base in Siberia working on a new generation of enhanced using stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. The mission involved only gathering intelligence, sabotaging the facility's operations, and ensuring the destruction of any cruel new serum, simple enough, hopefully.
Your mind wasn't completely in it, it was still caught up in your mission partner, and the lack of control you experienced around her. You knew this mission could be dangerous as well, HYDRA's experiments usually are, you, Bucky, and the twins are proof of that.
"Hey you alright," Nat pulled you out of your thoughts as she stood in front of you.
"Yeah," you gave a soft smile getting up and walking past her towards your locker.
"you sure, y/n," she walked towards you again, "it's okay if you're not, I know a mission like this can bring up things," she said trying to comfort you. You looked at her catching the genuineness in her eyes, stirring up those school girl butterflies.
"Yeah, I'm all good," you answered grabbing your usual knives and gadgets, "just a little nervous."
"I get it," she said going to her own locker beside you, "I wouldn't worry, we're in this together." You smiled at her cheesiness but deep down it did help lift you a little. This was the kindness you were talking about, she could be so understanding, and sweet; the great black widow, all sweet to you in private. Maybe it wasn't weakness she brought out of you.
"Destination, in ten minutes," FRIDAY announced.
"I'll land us," you said walking past Nat and into the cockpit.
The perimeter had already been infiltrated by another SHIELD unit, and a map of the facilities layout was processed with key points of interest highlighted. Natasha and you made your way up to the roof so she could access the security measures.
"Watch it," you pulled Nat back by the arm nodding down to a pressure alarm, "don't be so distracted," you commented off handedly.
"excuse me," she scoffed, "let's not talk about what happened in training today," she teased.
Ouch. You dropped her arm,rolled your eyes and looked away shameful…stubborn and prideful, "just cut the alarms already," you whispered. Natasha smirked going to the panel and connecting a small screen (another SHIELD you don't really know about), she's able to disable the security systems and time your guys entry perfectly.
"Okay check comms," Nat said quietly, checking the comms this is where the two of you split up. Natasha is to the control room to download and wipe the data, while you make it down to the labs to destroy the serum and plant the bombs.
"How's it going," you check in less than 2 minutes later. You've always gotten anxious on missions with the team, fearing any mistakes, fearing losing control; Hydra taking you again. With Nat it was ten times worse.
"Don't worry bout me, soldier," she laughed softly with a teasing tone, "focus on your mission, we'll be out soon."
"Yes, ma'am," you anxiously laughed, Nat on the other end flushing at the title.
In the control room Natasha watched the data download with only thoughts of you, it was getting bad. The flirting had started because of a physical attraction to you, your frame, your style, then it was your humor, your kindness, your awkward laugh, your belly laugh, that stupid smile, everything. Nat's daydreaming was cut off by rushed footsteps in the hall. Looking at the camera she had set up at the door she saw a squad of Hydra agents marching towards the room.
"Shit," she mumbled," Y/n, we have a -."
"Are you okay," you cut her off.
"Just get done fast, I have a squad advancing on me" she stated.
"I'm all done here, I'm--," you were cut off by the door to the labs being kicked down and flying across the room.
"What was that, are you okay," Nat asked as she finished up her task and deleting the files.
"Made contact with the enhanced," you said getting into a fighting position, as alarms began to sound.
"It'll be okay," Nat said, "we'll meet at the emergency randevu."
The enhanced made eye contact with you moving mechanically towards you like a brute, "Let's see which model's better now," you mumbled walking towards the danger.
The Prototype charged first, moving with surprising speed for its size. You dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow that dented the metal floor. You countered with a swift punch to the Prototype's ribs, but it barely flinched, retaliating with a backhand that sent you sprawling. The two super-soldiers exchanged a flurry of blows, each strike resonating with power, but the Prototype’s resilience and raw power were relentless. It landed a solid punch to your side, sending you crashing into a lab table. Shattered glass and spilled chemicals hissed around you as you struggled to your feet.
Why the fuck was the model so strong. The Prototype loomed over you, ready to deliver a finishing blow. Summoning all your strength, You caught the descending fist in your own, muscles straining against the force. With a roar, you twisted the Prototype's arm, using its momentum to flip it over your shoulder and into a bank of computers. The impact shattered the screens and sent sparks flying as you pulled out a knife and stabbed the prototype only feeling it cut into metal. This thing wasn't a person anymore.
The Prototype snarled, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a headbutt. Stars exploded in your vision, but you fought through the pain, kicking the Prototype’s knee again, this time hearing a satisfying crunch. Breathing heavily, you didn’t let up. You charged at the downed Prototype, delivering a series of rapid punches to its torso and face.
The Prototype faltered, its movements becoming more erratic. You saw your opening, grabbed a heavy metal rod from the debris and swung it with all you might, connecting with the side of the Prototype's head. The force of the blow sent it crashing to the ground, where it laid, unconscious.
Standing admist the wreckage trying to catch your breath, you heard an "Ahem," making you jump.
"Shit," You breathed looking at Nat in the door way, "you said meet at the randevu point" you stated.
"sorry," she smiled walking over to you and cupping your face scanning you for any damage, only to see a cut lip and you clutching your rib "looking good soldier," she teased as she scanned back up to your face catching you staring, straight back at her and glancing down to her lips, you immediately flushed, backing away.
The roof further collapsed behind you, “we have to go, I've already planted the bombs” you said grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. Making it towards the facilities garage waves of Hydra operatives began to emerge.
"Shit," Nat mumbled pulling you guys back behind a wall and coming face to face, smiling at the proximity.
"Stop it," you said stepping back, "you can't keep distracting me like this."
"I don't know what your talking about," Nat smirked teasing as Hydra agents were frantically looking all around for you.
"I'm not doing this here," you stated firmly, "what do you even get out of it,” you question furthered almost exhausted. Nat pitied you in this moment, she hadn’t realized how mad she was driving you, her face softened.
"They're over here," your head's both shot to down the halls were the Hydra operatives began rushing in.
"let’s go," Natasha said grabbing your hand and booked it the other way.
Making it to the garage and pushing a crate in front of the door, Natasha had time to hijack a Hydra truck right before the doors flew open, "GO!" you shouted slamming the driver side shut and kicking a hydra agent across the room.
"Wait!" Nat shouted trying to open the door again as you pushed it shut once more.
"Just go! I'll meet you at the jet," you yelled taking out another knife.
Natasha forced herself to slam on the gas leaving you to hold off the agents. With them being unenhanced hydra cockroaches it wasn't too bad they’re was just so many of them, it’d been awhile since you’ve seen this many agents in one place. As you were throwing them and slamming them to the floor, the bombs you had planted went off in the lab went off, the building shook and flames set. The explosion allowed three agents the time to make off on motorcycles straight in Nat’s directions.
“No,” you muttered under your breath, hurling one last agent to the ground, as more of the building began to collapse, you launched into a full sprint across the Siberian snow. Your breath crystallized in the frigid air as you dodged through the trees, eyes locked on motorcycles speeding ahead. Spotting a fallen log, you seized the opportunity, using it as a makeshift ramp to propel yourself through the air. You crashed into one of the riders, sending him tumbling into the snow and commandeering his bike in one fluid motion.
Accelerating hard, you leaned low over the handlebars, feeling the icy wind whip against your face. The roar of the engine drowned out the chaos behind you as you closed in on the next target. With a quick flick of your wrist, you deployed a zip-line hook from your gauntlet, the steel cable slicing through the air and embedding itself in the frame of the bike ahead.
You toggled the slack, your muscles coiling with anticipation. At just the right moment, you yanked hard, the sudden tension in the line allowed you to throw the motorcycle and its rider careening off course. They collided with the other bike in a spectacular crash, the two vehicles intertwining and skidding across the snow in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.
Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the base in the distance, its structure collapsing floor by floor in a series of detonations. The ground trembled beneath you, the sound of destruction echoing in the frozen wilderness. You didn't slow down. There was no time to celebrate. You didn’t know if they were going to follow or not and you had to get Nat out of there.
Unbeknownst to you Natasha had witnessed the whole thing and was absolutely craving you at this point. She knew she needed you. She arrived at the Quinn jet shortly before you, jumping out the car, and immediately going to check on you.
“Are you okay,” she asked urgently grabbing your shoulders and trying to scan for any injuries before you gently pushed her hands off of you
“Let’s just get in the air,” you spoke grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the jet. You walked straight to the pilot seat and got you guys in the air. Setting it on auto pilot, Nat could sense the frustration radiating off of you. You walked right past her and into the medical area.
“Do you need any help?” She asked, as you turned your back to her and took of your mission gear leaving you in a white beater.
“No, I’m just bruised,” you said flatly as blood bled through your shirt revealing a long gash as well, “shit,” you mumbled.
“that’s not just a bruise,” she joked trying to lighten your mood
“i can see that can you just give me some space,” you snapped at her.
“okay, what’s the problem,” Nat asked walking up to you with a purpose and pulling your shoulder to make you face her
“just back off,” you said shrugging her hand off you and walking past her. You took your beater off completely and walked towards the bandages.
“it’s gonna need sti..”
“it’s not,” you cut her off, “i heal fast remember,” you opened up the sterile wipes cleaning the wound and flushing it with one of the sterile saline solutions. You gritted your teeth with pain from the wound and felt her eyes bore into your every move; it made you nervous. You reached for sterile pads to quickly knocking over a trey and hissing in pain.
“Sit down,” she said sternly. Rolling your eyes you did what was told, sitting down you raised your arm up allowing her access to pat dry the wound with sterile pads and get fresh bandages. She watched your abs flex and adjust with every move, every breath. You watched closely what her hands were doing avoiding looking at her face, “there,” she smoothed the bandage over letting out a breath.
“thanks,” you mumbled walking toward your locker for a loose jacket.
“y/n,” she called out softly walking up to you as you ignored her, "can you stop being so childish."
"Me? Childish?" you scoffed at her and rolled your eyes, "you're the one who makes all these slutty comments and feels me up at every opportunity."
"Are you serious," her volume go louder, "your upset over me flirting with you."
"Natasha, we were on a mission, a dangerous one," you shouted, "and you still, took every chance you got. I mean seriously are you in heat or something!?"
Her face flushed, "wow I didn't know your ego could get this big, I'll give you credit," she scoffed
“this isn’t an ego thing, it’s obvious you want me to fuck you, you don’t have to deny it, dont even try to,” you seethed stepping forward with practically every word, “i don’t give a fuck about you constantly flirting with me like the slut you are, no matter how much I embarrass myself, I really don’t fucking care, because I know you..you really just can’t help it” your voice dropped back to a civil level still carried with a stern sense of frustration, “I am upset because your distractions today could’ve genuinely cost us,” you stood up straight, “cost me.”
You were staring down right at her, your breaths brushed one another’s face, “what,” she whispered, “cost you what,” Nat pushed wanting to hear you say it.
“you know what,” you whispered back looking to her lips and wetting your own.
“say it, y/n” she stared at your own lips.
“cost me you Nat,” you confirmed, your gaze going back to her eyes.
"I'm sorry," Nat whispered looking up at you. You broke the gaze dropping your head and closing your eyes taking a deep breath in.
"Do you even like me," you asked barely audible.
"What?" Nat laughed shocked.
"can you just answer the question, Natasha," you said looking back into her eyes, “do you even like me, or I just something you desire.”
She could tell she was hurting you at this point, that you were genuinely upset. "Yeah," she mumbled dropping her gaze to her, hands she looked small, "I do."
You cupped her face, bring her gaze back to you, your eyes scanning over every little feature, "but you just want me to fuck you too," you whispered staring at her lips, "don't you."
"I do," she answered as your lips inched closer and closer.
"say it," you said over her lips, "tell me what you want, Natasha."
Her hands went to yours," I want.." she whispered getting closer to your lips, "I want you to fuck me, y/n" She looked up into your eyes, "please," A shit-eating grin came upon your face as one hand moved to loosely wrap around her neck and your lips finally slammed together. You roughly pushed Natasha against the other lockers causing her to let out the most wanton pornographic moan ever, fueling the pit in your stomach. Breaking apart, your hands dropped to her hips keeping her in her place as she chased after your lips for more," please, y/n, don't tease."
You laughed looking down at her already swollen lips and licking your own, "Please, Nat," you said getting closer to her lips again, "I'm going to do whatever I want after all this shit you've pulled." Your lips went to the column of her neck, resulting in more of her pretty sounds and her hands in your hair. Your hands dropped lower towards the back of her thighs giving a light pull, she immediately jumped to wrap them around you. Your lips moved back to hers, kissing passionately, you swiped your tongue across her bottom lip, her own tongue pushing into your mouth as her hips moved in search of friction. You pulled the two of you away from the wall and carried her with ease to the medical bed not once breaking the kiss.
You placed her gently on her back, crawling over her, and moving your lips back to her neck. You bit marks into what was finally yours, as your hand moved to pull down the zipper on the front of her suit, "is this okay," you asked.
Nat smiled as her hips lifted towards you and her hands went further into your hair, "more than okay," she breathed, "I'm yours," she whispered across your lips, "and I want you to do whatever you want to me," she looked into your eyes pupils completely blown. Your lips locked in another passionate kiss, this time brief. Each touch caused shivers through Nat, her breath hitching in anticipation as you pulled the zipper down further and pulled the suit from her body, exposing her skin inch by inch.
"You're so beautiful," you murmured, sitting up and taking in her disheveled look as she lay in her bra and underwear.
"Take this off," she unzipped your jacket and pushed it off your shoulders. Hands scratching over your abs and back to your hair as she pulled you back into another kiss. Both breathing heavy and desperate your lips moved back to trail down Natasha's neck, leaving a path of more marks. When you finally reached Natasha's chest, your hand wrapped around to unclip her bra, your mouth immediately latching onto her nipple earning a gasp from Nat, "Y/n please," she whimpered, hands tugging in your hair to pull you closer. With a growl of need, you continued your descent, your mouth leaving a burning trail down Natasha's stomach. Kissing lightly above her underwear, you locked eye for further permission at which Nat nodded eagerly too, hooking your fingers in her underwear, Natasha's eyes fluttered shut, her hips lifting urging you to move faster.
Pulling her underwear off, Nat's core glistened with need. You couldn't help but smirk and kiss around the place she needed you most. You spread her legs wider, hands gripping her thighs firmly, as you littered love bits all over them, "Please, Y/n, I'm begging you," she moaned as you ghosted over her clit again.
The great Black Widow begging. You didn't waste another second, your mouth latched on to her core, tongue flicking out to taste what was finally yours. Natasha cried out, her back arching off the bed, causing you to moan into her core, and her to thrash more. You forced her hips down with more strength bound to leave bruises after. Your tongue moved expertly, alternating between teasing flicks and deep rough strokes. Natasha's moans gre louder, her hands pulling desperately at your hair. "Oh god, Y/n," she gasped, her body trembling.
Your grip tightened on Natasha's thighs, holding her in place further as you increased your pace. Tongue delving deeper, your mouth worked Natasha closer and closer to the edge. Natasha's moans turned into invoherent cries from the stimulation, her body writhing beneath you.
"Go ahead," you mumbled, " come for me, pretty girl," the vibrations sent Natasha over the edge as she screamed your name, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her.
You didn't stop, your mouth continuing to work Natasha through her orgasm until she was a trembling, breathless mess. Only then did you pull back, lips glistening with Natasha's arousal. You crawled back up her body, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.
"your mine," you whispered against her lips, "as I am yours."
Natasha nodded weakly, giving a blissful smile, her eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Always," she answered, hand still tangled in your hair.
#enhanced!reader#marvel fanfic#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#marvel#bottom!nat#super soldier#black widow x y/n#natasha x y/n#natasha romanov
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Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers
// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader
// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.
// Wordcount // 6.714 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff
// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber
// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.
// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest
// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //
Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.
Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.
Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.
So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?
“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.
You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.
“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.
“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.
“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.
“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.
“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”
“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.
“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”
“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.
“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”
You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?
“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.
You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.
“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.
It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.
“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”
“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.
“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“
“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.
“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.
“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.
He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.
For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?
You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.
Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.
Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.
The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.
How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?
For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.
Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.
He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.
Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.
You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.
“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.
“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.
“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.
After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.
Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.
Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.
When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.
After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.
As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.
He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.
A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.
“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.
A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”
His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.
Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.
“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.
Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.
“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.
You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.
“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.
Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.
“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.
“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.
“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.
Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.
“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.
Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.
“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.
He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.
You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.
Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.
“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.
Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.
“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.
“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.
He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.
Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.
Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.
Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.
You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.
“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”
You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.
Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?
“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”
“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.
“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.
“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.
With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.
“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.
“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.
He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.
You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.
“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.
“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.
Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.
“You’re sure, omega?”
“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”
Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.
“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.
Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.
“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.
He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.
He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.
So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.
“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.
He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.
“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.
“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.
Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.
Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”
Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.
“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.
“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.
“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”
You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.
“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.
You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.
“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.
Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.
Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”
Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.
Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.
When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.
“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.
“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.
You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.
“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.
You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”
“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.
“Why are you always so fucki—“
“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”
You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.
“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”
You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”
He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.
“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”
“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.
“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”
You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.
“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.
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The Bolter (part nine) (18+)
Steve Rogers x f!reader / Bucky Barnes x f!reader
synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : Sam, Bucky, and you head to Madripoor with an unlikely ally. Steve says goodbye to Peggy, then travels in time to where he truly belongs.
themes/warnings : language, even more pining, even more smut!, Zemo being Zemo, Sharon cutting through our bullshit
word count : 5.8k
main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist
━━━━━━☆━━━━━━
The 1950s, seven months after Steve’s arrival
Steve sits by the window, watching the fading sunlight pour into the room. For the first time in months, he feels calm—an eerie, unnatural calm, like the eye of a storm. He has come to accept the truth, bitter as might be: this was never his home, and soon, it won’t exist at all.
Mobius had warned him. When he goes back to his timeline, it will be as if none of this ever happened. This branch, this brief stolen life with Peggy, will be pruned. She will never know what they had here. Steve will fade from this time, and she will move on, be with the man she was always meant to be with, and have the children she was destined to have. She will live the life she was always supposed to.
But he will remember everything. He will carry the ache of knowing that none of this was ever really his to keep.
And deep down, Steve knows it’s the right choice. His normal, whatever semblance of it he can grasp, is always going to be with you. It has always been you with whom he belonged. With his friends. With Bucky.
His very being is meant for the picket line and not a picket fence.
“Are you ready?” Peggy’s voice breaks the silence, and Steve turns to find her standing in the doorway, looking at him with those sharp, knowing eyes. She has accepted it, just as he has. There’s no anger, no confusion. They’ve had too many talks in the past week about this—about how something always felt off for both of them, like an invisible weight pressing against their happiness.
“I am,” Steve answers.
“It didn’t feel right, did it?” she says quietly.
“No… it didn’t.” He hesitates, the truth weighing heavy. “But I think I know why.”
She steps closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “You don’t belong here, Steve,” she says gently, her voice unwavering. “You belong with them. You belong with the one who truly holds your heart.”
When he lifts his eyes, there’s something new in them. Certainty. “Yeah. I do. But I’m glad we had this. Even if it was never meant to last.”
Peggy’s smile is bittersweet as he presses her hand to his lips. “Me too.”
Steve nods, his throat tight as he steps away. Hunter pads over, his loyal companion waiting patiently by the door. Mobius and Loki wait in the other room, the quiet harbingers of the life he’s meant to return to.
“Goodbye, Peggy,” he says, for one final time.
“Goodbye, Steve,” Peggy says, her voice filled with quiet grace. “Go get your girl.”
A shiver runs down his spine. You had said the exact same words when he left you. But it didn’t stick, because he was too stupid to realise that you had always been his girl. He can picture it so well, picture you, and the thought of seeing you again soon inspires an overwhelming happiness in him.
“Ready?” Mobius asks, his usual lighthearted demeanour replaced by something more solemn.
“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “I’m ready.”
Loki taps the device, and with a flash, Steve’s world shifts.
And just like that, he’s on his way home.
2024, seven months after Steve’s departure
Your first encounter with the Flag Smashers did not go as expected. Or maybe it did. Fighting a bunch of serum-powered radicals – kids, practically – on top of cargo trucks moving at high speed was perhaps the likeliest outcome of this whole thing. After everything you’ve been through, in your decade and a half as the Huntress and all your run-ins with the Big 3, this is just another afternoon, just another mission.
Except the appearance of John Walker threw you in for a loop. Captain America, he calls himself, but there is no chance of you ever addressing him by that name, and you know the same goes for Bucky. John isn’t even carrying the right shield, the only shield, the one Steve brought with him. All he dons is a replica, much like he himself is one.
Seeing that red, white, and blue paraded around almost made you forget about the kiss you shared with Bucky before the fight. Almost.
But you feel its undercurrent in every moment, you catch glimpses of it when you close your eyes, you feel him… and you know he does too.
The three of you made your way back to New York, recuperating in your apartment, and planning the next move, but what Bucky proposes seems the farthest from sensible.
“Zemo?” Sam stops mid-step. “Tell me you’re joking.”
Bucky doesn’t flinch. “He knows about the serum. More than anyone alive.”
“Yeah, and he’s also the guy who tried to tear the Avengers apart,” Sam counters. His voice is rising, filled with disbelief. “You want to break out a criminal mastermind? For what, a history lesson?”
“I’m not saying I like it,” Bucky says. “But if these Flag Smashers have the serum, then he’s our best chance at understanding what we’re up against.”
You can see Sam’s shoulders stiffen, his eyes wide with incredulity. You, though—your gut reaction is different. Zemo is dangerous, but your concern isn't for yourself or Sam. It’s for Bucky.
You meet his gaze. “Bucky… do you really think you can handle him? Zemo’s not exactly a small problem.”
He looks at you, something quiet and intense behind his eyes. “I can handle it,” he replies. “I have to.”
There’s a finality to his words, but they don’t ease the knot forming in your chest. Sam throws up his hands. “This is madness! I’m just supposed to be okay with busting a guy out of maximum security prison? You people are crazy.”
A moment of silence passes before you let out a resigned breath. “We don’t have much of a choice, Sam. If Bucky thinks this is the way forward, I trust him.”
Sam glares at both of you, then mutters under his breath, “You two have been spending way too much time together.”
The Berlin Correctional Facility is colder than you expected—both literally and figuratively.
Sam checks his watch, then gives Bucky a sideways glance. “You know, this is the part where I remind you again that this is a bad idea.”
Bucky shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Noted.”
Sam sighs. “I just want it on record that I’m the voice of reason here.”
You smirk, leaning against the wall. “Come on, Sam. What’s life without a little danger?”
“You don’t get to say that when we’re about to break a supervillain out of prison,” Sam deadpans.
The plan, despite its insanity, goes off without a hitch. The guards are neutralized with minimal force, and the security systems go offline like clockwork. You hack into the mainframe to open Zemo’s cell, and when the door finally slides open, you see him—Helmut Zemo, calm and collected, standing there as though he’s been waiting for you all along.
He steps forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like a cat stalking prey. “I must say, I didn’t expect visitors.”
You glare at him, your hackles rising instantly. “Let’s get one thing clear. This is a means to an end. One wrong move, and you go back in.”
Zemo’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of causing any trouble.”
You don’t believe him for a second.
Zemo’s private jet is the epitome of luxury—plush seats, dim lighting, the hum of the engines barely audible. Chump change compared to what Tony used to travel in, but still. It’s surreal, sitting in this polished environment, knowing you’re en route to one of the most dangerous cities in the world with one of the most dangerous men in the world.
You’re seated across the aisle from Bucky. His body is tense, his fingers twitching in his lap as if he’s holding himself back from something. You wish there was something you could say to ease the weight he’s carrying, but you know better than to push him. Not now. Not with Zemo sitting across from you, watching everything with sharp, calculating eyes.
Zemo leans back in his seat, looking far too relaxed for your liking. “I must say, I’ve always had a fondness for Madripoor. It’s a city of endless possibility, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sam glances up from across the aisle, his expression unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s paradise for a guy like you.”
Zemo smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “It’s a place where the lines between good and evil blur. A place where one can truly be free.”
Your grip tightens on the armrest, and you glance at Bucky. His face is turned toward the window, his jaw tight, eyes dark. You lean closer, keeping your voice low. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” he says, but you can hear the lie in his voice.
You open your mouth to press further, but Zemo speaks up again, cutting through the tension. “It’s interesting, isn’t it? The way history repeats itself.”
You glare at him, your protective instinct flaring. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Zemo’s eyes flicker between you and Bucky, his gaze too knowing for comfort. “It’s just... curious. The way you watch him. The way you stand between us.”
You feel a surge of anger rise in your chest, but you hold it back, keeping your tone steady. “You’re not part of this conversation.”
Zemo chuckles, leaning back. “No need to be defensive. I’m merely an observer. But I must say, the loyalty you show to him... it’s quite touching.”
Bucky shifts beside you, his hand balling into a fist. You place your hand on his arm, silently communicating that Zemo isn’t worth it.
You warn lowly, “Don’t push it, Zemo.”
Madripoor is a city of lights and shadows, the streets buzzing with a kind of energy that makes your skin crawl. Zemo leads the way, his steps confident as he navigates the underworld with ease. He fits right in, and so do you. You’re not unfamiliar with the city yourself, with many of your contacts residing here. Sam picks at his flashy fur coat, having to wear the guise of the Smiling Tiger, and you have to bite back a laugh.
What you hate is Bucky’s role in this. Zemo insisted that Bucky act the part of the Winter Soldier again, and seeing him slip into that persona makes your stomach turn. You’ve fought so hard to help him leave that part of himself behind, and now he’s being forced to wear it like a mask.
You stick close to Bucky, your eyes constantly scanning the crowd for threats. Your hand brushes his occasionally, a silent reassurance. He doesn’t speak, but you can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches every time someone looks at him like he’s a weapon.
Zemo’s voice cuts through the noise. “Ah, here we are. The Brass Monkey Saloon. You’ll need to put on a show, Soldier.”
Your heart twists at the cold way Zemo refers to him. Soldier. Like Bucky’s nothing more than a tool, a means to an end. You step forward, putting yourself between them.
“Watch yourself,” you snap, your voice low and dangerous.
Zemo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your protectiveness. “Of course. I merely meant that appearances must be kept."
The atmosphere inside the Brass Monkey Saloon is thick with tension. Zemo’s plan, of course, involves a show of force. Bucky takes on the role, fists flying, and you stand helplessly on the sidelines, watching as he dismantles anyone who stands in your way. You can see the fear in the faces of the crowd, the whispers of “Winter Soldier” passing between them.
When the chaos finally subsides, Zemo steps forward, calm and collected. “Very convincing, James,” he says, clapping Bucky on the shoulder.
You can’t help yourself. “Don’t touch him.”
Zemo leads the way to Selby’s hideout, the plan already set. You, Bucky, and Sam follow close behind, nerves taut. You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, recognizing not just the Winter Soldier, but the Huntress.
Inside Selby’s lair, things unravel faster than you can react. The exchange was supposed to be smooth—get the information on the serum, figure out who’s behind the Flag Smashers. But Selby, sly and dangerous, catches on too quickly. The words turn heated, tension thick in the air. When the situation escalates, a gunshot rings out, and Selby collapses to the floor.
Everything goes to hell.
Selby’s guards surge forward, the entire operation blown to pieces. You don’t even have time to think before the room erupts into chaos, bullets tearing through the air.
Bucky grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit. “We need to move!”
The narrow alleyways of Madripoor are a maze, and no matter how fast you run, the sound of pursuit is never far behind. Your heart pounds in your chest, adrenaline surging as you push forward, leading the way through the twisting streets.
“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yells, his voice tight with effort as he ducks behind cover.
The sound of gunfire grows louder, and just when it seems like you’re cornered, Sharon Carter appears from the shadows, her expression all business.
“You guys really know how to make an entrance.”
The tension in Sharon Carter’s loft is thick enough to choke on. You can’t deny the relief that floods through you at her arrival—she’s saved you from the brink more than once—but the comfort quickly dissolves the second she opens her mouth. Sharon’s never been one to coddle, and it’s clear she’s ready to let you know exactly what she thinks about this whole situation.
Her apartment reflects her new life in Madripoor: sleek, stylish, and modern, with a hint of danger lurking beneath the surface. The large windows offer a panoramic view of the chaotic city below, bathed in the neon glow of a world where morality has always been in short supply. You’re reminded of who Sharon has become—the Power Broker, controlling Madripoor’s criminal underworld from behind the scenes. And yet, she’s still the woman you fought beside, the woman you trusted implicitly. Your friend.
“You’ve made a mess of Madripoor,” Sharon says, leaning casually against the bar, one eyebrow raised as she surveys the room. Her eyes flick between you, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo, her smirk cutting. She takes a slow sip from her glass, her posture relaxed. “You’re lucky I showed up when I did.”
“Yeah, we didn’t exactly have time to send out a save-the-date,” Sam mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though you can tell he’s thankful. Sharon’s saved you all from a sticky situation—again.
Her gaze shifts to you, and that smirk widens, a playful but knowing glint in her eyes. “Still running around with these boys, huh? After everything?”
There’s an edge to her words, something that cuts deeper than you expected. Sharon’s always had a way of seeing through you, right to the heart of things. But this time, her words carry an extra weight. You know what’s coming before she even says it, but it still feels like a punch to the gut when she does.
Her eyes dart to Bucky, who’s standing tense and silent beside you, his shoulders tight. Then, they come back to you, her lips curling slightly. “You and Steve were… close. And now, here you are, keeping Bucky in check.” She pauses just long enough to make it sting. “Seems like you’ve got a type.”
Your stomach twists, and you catch the slight flicker of movement from Bucky, the way his fists clench at his sides. His face remains stoic, but you know him well enough to see the storm brewing underneath. Sharon’s words have struck a nerve.
“What?” you say, keeping your voice even, though there’s a sharpness to it. Your heart races, and you try to keep the emotion out of your voice.
"Wow," Bucky mutters dryly, "she's kind of awful now."
Sharon shrugs, feigning casualness, but her eyes gleam with amusement at you. “It’s just… interesting. You and Cap. And now Cap’s best friend. Two men who can’t escape their own shadows. You seem to have a thing for complicated.”
You bite back your immediate retort, but before you can respond, Zemo—because of course he has to chime in—speaks up, lounging against the wall with that smug, knowing look that makes you want to punch him. “Ah, the familiar,” he says, voice silky. “It’s natural to seek comfort in something... predictable. But I wonder, how much of this is about James, and how much is simply because he reminds you of your precious Captain Rogers?”
You feel the room go cold, and the weight of Zemo’s words settles like a stone in your chest. The air around Bucky shifts, his calm demeanour fracturing just enough for you to see the tension rippling beneath. His posture stiffens even more, his jaw tight, but he doesn’t speak. The silence is worse than anything he could say.
“Leave him out of this,” you snap, your voice barely above a whisper, but the threat is clear. Zemo’s eyes gleam, dark and dangerous, but he raises his hands in mock surrender.
“Of course,” Zemo says, his smile widening. “But… leave who out of it? Which one?”
Sharon watches you closely, her smirk fading slightly as she steps closer. For the first time since she spoke, her gaze softens. She knows you—really knows you. The unspoken history between you feels heavy in the air. She tilts her head, studying you with a sharpness that you’ve come to expect from her.
“Can I have a word?” Sharon asks, her voice quieter now, almost gentle.
You nod, barely noticing the others as Sharon gestures for you to follow her into a more private corner of the apartment, away from the tense stares of Bucky and Zemo. Once you’re out of earshot, Sharon leans against the wall, crossing her arms. The playful glint is still in her eyes, but there’s a seriousness there too.
“You know I don’t mean to be harsh,” she says, her voice quieter, more personal. “But you and I... we’ve always been able to call it like it is.”
You exhale, your shoulders sagging slightly. “Yeah, well, some things are harder to call than others.”
Sharon watches you for a long moment, her gaze searching your face. “It’s been a long time since Steve left. I get it. I do. But you and Bucky...” She trails off, her eyes flicking back toward him. “You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all me.”
You swallow, unsure how to respond. You’ve spent so long trying to navigate your own emotions, keeping them at bay. But here, it feels impossible to ignore any longer.
Sharon takes a step closer, her expression softening. “He’s not Steve. And I know you know that. But Bucky—he’s been through hell too. And I see the way you look at him. The way he looks at you.”
Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you can’t speak. Sharon does have a way of cutting through the bullshit, of seeing things for what they really are.
“I’m not—” you start, but Sharon cuts you off with a small, knowing smile.
“I’m not saying it’s the same as what you had with Steve,” she says. “But maybe that’s a good thing. Bucky’s different. And maybe that’s what you need.”
You glance back toward Bucky, who’s still standing with his back to you, his shoulders tense, his hands curled into fists at his sides. You can feel the weight of his emotions, the way Zemo’s and Sharon’s comments have hit him harder than he’s letting on. You want to go to him, to tell him it’s okay. That he doesn’t have to be Steve. That you don’t want him to be.
But there’s a part of you that’s still tangled up in the past—in Steve’s shadow.
Sharon places a hand on your arm, pulling your attention back to her. “Listen,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “Whatever this is with Bucky... don’t let it slip away because you’re still holding onto something that’s gone. Steve’s not coming back. But you’ve still got a chance—with him.”
You take a deep breath, nodding slightly, but the knot in your chest doesn’t loosen. Sharon squeezes your arm, offering a small smile before she steps back, her smirk returning as she glances toward the others.
“All right,” she says, her voice louder now, more playful. “Enough emotional introspection for one night. Let’s figure out how to get you out of Madripoor before you make an even bigger mess.”
Zemo, lounging against the wall with a glass in his hand, raises an eyebrow as you sit down beside Bucky. He doesn’t say anything, but his smirk is enough to get under your skin. It’s like he can feel the emotional turbulence swirling around you.
Sharon saunters back into the room, her heels clicking against the polished floor, a confident ease in her step. “Well, now that we’ve aired out some of that dirty laundry, maybe we can focus on the job at hand?”
Sam, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet through all of this, gives Sharon a look. “Yeah, and maybe we can talk about why you didn’t feel the need to mention how deep you are in Madripoor’s criminal scene, huh?”
Sharon doesn’t miss a beat, throwing him a cocky grin. “I’m an opportunist, Sam. Madripoor offers a lot of opportunities.”
Sam mutters something under his breath, clearly not satisfied with that answer, but it’s clear Sharon has no intention of explaining herself further. And you don’t push her on it either, even though you’re the only one here who knows exactly what her role is in this city. You’ve never questioned her decisions before—everyone has to survive somehow—but seeing her now, it’s hard not to wonder if she’s lost herself in the shadows.
“I trust you’ll all stay out of trouble until I arrange our next move?” Sharon says, her eyes flicking back to you, a knowing glint in her gaze. It’s subtle, but you can tell she’s still watching you closely, assessing everything—especially your unspoken bond with Bucky.
Before anyone can respond, she turns and walks out of the room.
After escaping the chaos and making it back to Zemo’s safe house in Riga, the adrenaline finally starts to fade. It’s well past midnight when you make your way into your designated bedroom. You drop onto the bed, your heart still racing, trying to calm the storm of emotions churning inside you.
Sleep never comes easy to you—a side effect of your chosen life. One of high stakes and adrenaline. A lot more losses than wins, if any of your successful missions can even be considered wins at all.
After an hour of staring up at the ceiling, your eyes tracing the curves of the rosettes, Bucky enters your room, as noiseless as a cat. You raise your head sharply on instinct, but relax as soon as you see his figure. His shoulders are slumped as if the weight of the world rests upon them. He glances at you, and you can see the struggle etched across his face.
“Can’t sleep?” you ask, sitting up and patting the space beside you on the bed.
He purses his lips, not saying anything for a moment. After a while, and with a resounding sigh, he settles at the foot of the bed, his back to you.
“What you saw back there…” he starts, his voice low. “That wasn’t me. I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore.”
“I know,” you say softly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder soothingly. “I’ve always known. You’re just Bucky.”
“I don’t… I don’t want to ever lose control,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
“You won’t,” you say firmly, shuffling closer to him. “You have me.”
Bucky turns halfway, meeting your gaze. “I want to prove to you that I’m not him,” he says, his voice thick with conviction.
Your throat suddenly feels dry. You don’t know anymore if he’s referring to the Winter Soldier or Steve. You can tell that Sharon’s comments rattled him. You’re familiar with her humour, so you know that she didn’t mean anything negative by what she said, but Bucky might have easily taken them to heart.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” you whisper.
His gaze softens, and then he’s leaning in, capturing your lips with his. There is no goddamn way you’re falling asleep now, with the fire he’s igniting within you. You pull him closer, your hands threading through his hair as he deepens the kiss.
“Are you sure?” you whisper against his lips, breathless. A roll in the hay at the height of a high-risk mission is not beneath you, especially with someone like Bucky. With these things, a heated release of pent-up tension might be just what you need. But you want to be sure that he needs it too. That he needs you.
He nods, eyes searching yours. “I want this. I want you.”
In one fluid motion, he takes your lips again, this kiss softer, more deliberate. He relishes in you, taking his sweet time, his tongue raking the outline of your lips. You melt against him, feeling the warmth of his body pressing against yours, as well as the cool of his left arm wrapping around your torso.
“Bucky,” you breathe, breaking the kiss momentarily.
“Just Bucky,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion.
He tugs you against him, the two of you moving in a slow, sensual dance. You feel the weight of everything—the mission, the past, the chaos—slipping away as you lose yourselves in each other. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, as you taste the sweetness of his tongue.
“I want you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I want to show you how much you mean to me.”
You shiver at his words, the sincerity behind them sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins. “Then show me,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.
The world tilts slightly as he lays you back against the soft sheets. He hovers above you, his expression a mix of desire and reverence, as if he’s afraid to touch something so precious.
“You’re so beautiful, doll,” he breathes, his gaze travelling over you as if memorising every detail, and you suddenly forget how to speak.
You’ve never considered yourself meek by any means, always able to stand your ground. The last time you’ve actually felt shy, and felt blood rush to your face at the attention of an admirer was with….
You shake Steve out of your thoughts.
“It’s just me,” you say, mirroring his earlier words.
His lips curve into a soft smile, and you can see the flicker of warmth behind the shadows that often cloud his expression. “Just you is everything,” he replies, his voice dropping to a whisper.
His hands slide under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin, igniting every nerve ending. The sensation is overwhelming, and you gasp against his mouth, the heat pooling low in your belly.
“So perfect,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing a path along your collarbone. Each soft touch leaves a trail of fire, and you can’t help but arch into him, your body instinctively seeking more.
“Bucky,” you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if you can fuse your bodies into one. “Please.”
His response is immediate. He pushes your shirt up, baring your torso to him, and you feel exposed yet completely alive under his gaze. Then he leans down to press soft kisses along your midriff. The sensation is electric, maddening even, as he drifts ever lower.
Bucky lifts his head, meeting your gaze with a burning intensity. “Let’s make this moment last,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening with desire as he shifts his weight, settling between your legs. His hands find the hem of your pants, his fingers grazing your skin as he slowly pushes them down your legs, along with your underwear, revealing you completely to him.
“Bucky,” you moan, when he kisses a trail along your inner thigh. “Patience, doll,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. You watch him as he continues his exploration, his kisses drifting higher until he reaches your core, and the breath hitches in your throat when he sucks at your aching bud.
The heat builds, swirling around you as he loses himself in you, the world outside fading away completely. You can feel the tension tightening in your belly, a delicious coil that threatens to snap.
“I’m getting close,” you breathe after a long while, the words almost lost amidst a long bout of incoherent moaning. You reach down and roughly push his face into your pussy, wantonly craving more as his tongue laps at your juices.
Bucky responds with a growl, his hands gripping your hips as he pushes you closer to the edge. “Let go,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with desire. “I’ve got you.”
With those words, you explode, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you cry out his name. He holds you tightly, a steady anchor as you ride the waves of ecstasy, feeling more alive than ever.
As the pleasure subsides, you gasp for breath, your heart racing as you come down from the high. “You okay?” Bucky asks, hovering over you and brushing a stray hair from your face.
You nod, your body still buzzing from the aftermath. “Better than okay,” you reply, a smile creeping across your lips.
He chuckles, the sound resonating deep within his chest, a rich, warm sound that makes your heart swell. For all his worries about falling back into the darkness, you find that he is slowly becoming your source of light.
“I want you to know,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, “that was only the beginning.”
“Oh really?” you tease, raising an eyebrow, letting your fingers trace along the contours of his vibranium arm.
“Yeah, babydoll,” He grins wolfishly, and you’re glad to see this playful side of him resurfacing.
You roll on your side, pressing a playful kiss to his lips. “Well, I’m all for that.”
He undresses in a haste, his motions careless and frantic that his black shirt gets stuck around his head, earning a giggle from you. His groans are muffled when he protests, “It’s not funny.”
You reach up to help him out of it. “It’s kinda funny.”
When he’s finally free of the confines of cotton, his hair is all mussed. He looks downright adorable that you could just melt at the sight. But then he frees himself of his trousers too, his thick cock bobbing erect from his boxers, the vein running down its side angry and swollen.
He’s not just adorable; he’s sensual, virile, erotic.
And you want him so fucking badly.
But he beats you to that admission. “You drive me crazy,” he rasps, his hands massaging your sides. “In the best way possible.”
“I could say the same about you.” There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you lean back slightly, letting your fingers wander down his chest, tracing the solid lines of his body, each muscle taut and inviting. He groans softly at your touch, his head dropping slightly as his control wavers.
He positions himself just right, teasing at first, his breath ragged as he enters you slowly, inch by inch. The stretch is exquisite, your body tightening around him as a disjointed gasp escapes your lips. His jaw clenches, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he savours the sensation.
“You feel so good, doll,” he groans, his voice hoarse with restraint. There’s a primal hunger in the way he looks at you—like he’s claiming you, and that realisation ignites something deep within you.
You meet his thrusts, your hands gripping his back, nails biting into his skin as he starts to move. His rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, as though he’s drawing out every moment of pleasure, letting it pool deep inside you. Each thrust pushes deeper, more intense, as he slams his pelvis into you.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice dripping with possessiveness, his lips brushing against your neck before he bites down softly, enough to make you moan his name.
“Fffuck, yes, Bucky—”
“You’re so tight,” he gasps, his voice thick with need as he watches your reactions, the way your body responds to him. “God, you feel incredible.”
Before you can respond, he shifts his angle, driving into you harder, deeper. Your knees are pressed together, pointed to one side as he lifts your hips slightly. Every time he ruts into you, he hits that fleshy, sweet spot in your cunt.
“Yes, Buck!” you gasp. “Just like that.”
“Look at me,” he demands, his voice barely above a growl. “I want you to remember this every time you think of him.” His words are punctuated with a dangerous tinge that almost makes them sound like a threat. A warning.
“Want you to fall apart around me, doll. Go on. Cum on me,” he commands. His movements grow frenzied, his body shaking with intense pleasure as he drives his cock mercilessly into your core.
You practically scream out hoarsely, the sound mingling with his as he follows you into bliss, his hot seed filling you completely.
Bucky collapses beside you, panting, and you turn to face him, a blissful smile breaking across your lips.
“That was fucking incredible,” you whisper.
He catches his breath, his fingers trailing along your cheek, his gaze softening. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” he admits.
“I can kind of tell,” you tease lightly.
He smiles, a wicked glint in his eyes as he leans in, brushing his lips against yours again. “You’re amazing.”
You smile back, despite the pang of wistfulness in your heart. Because even as his memory lingers, you can feel yourself falling deeper for Bucky.
“Thank you,” you say sincerely, “So are you, Buck.” You take a breath, the words caught in your throat, as you desperately attempt to address whatever it is that needs to be addressed, but he sees the turmoil in your eyes, and gently cradles your face with one hand.
“I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know…” you mumble.
“Hey,” he says, offering a soft smile, “it’s okay, it’s okay.” You feel hopeless—it should be you consoling him. About whatever this is, and how the memory of Steve continues to complicate everything. Perhaps it always will. But here he is, carrying that burden for the both of you.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, a gesture carrying nothing but tenderness.
Maybe even love.
“I’m with you, doll,” he promises. “Until the end of the line.”
taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer @integers @imthebadguyyy @iidear @blackhawkfanatic @smhnxdiii @nommingonfood @loki-laufeyson68 @queenofshinigamis @samkickikc @utterlyhopeful-fics @mthealy @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @cloudroomblog @haruvalentine4321 @pommblog @yujyujj @thetorturedbuckydepartment @sanoorie1 @cjand10 @micasaessakusa @croftyspock90 @froobaloob @mavrellover91 @dexter99 @barnes70stark @ordelixx @radiantdanvers @chaotic-wanda @mrsnikstan @otterlycanadian @baw1066 (continued in comments...)
Some notes in the margins:
I'm kinda rushing through the events of tfatws, but I want to reach a certain point in time for Steve to make his entrance!
Writing this made me really, really feel for Bucky. My allegiance sways every week. I don't know what to do 😫🥲
oh, and the header images have been updated to include our Buck! As always, I am keen to know what yous think about this chapter 💙💙💙
#the bolter#steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#chris evans#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#chris evans x reader#mcu#the avengers#captain america
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FREAKY FRIDAY | Body Swapped Steve Rogers x f!reader.
Pairings: Johnny Storm Possessed Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Body Swap. Sexual Themes. Funny? Horndog Johnny, for an unknown reason, body-swapped with Steve. Summary: You woke up with Steve suddenly out of character and having an overflowing amount of rizz. A/N: It's comedy central in my blog this week. . . I can't help but insert one particular meme lmao
taggies: @mrsevans90
Like you did every morning, you woke up to the gentle warmth of Steve next to you, but there was something different about the way he was looking at you today. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Morning, gorgeous," he murmured, his voice smoother than usual. You blinked in surprise. Sure, Steve was affectionate, but this was... new.
You smiled back, albeit a little wary.
"Good morning?" Before you could say anything more, he captured your lips in a kiss that was how to describe it-more confident, more playful than his usual gentle morning kisses. You pulled back slightly, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
“Wow, someone's in a good mood today,” you said, trying to shake off the weird vibe.
Steve just grinned and gave you a little wink. "What can I say? I'm just appreciating my girl."
You squirmed under his intense gaze. You couldn't help but notice how his hand casually trailed down your arm, lingering a little longer than usual. You weren't sure if you should feel flattered or... flustered.
“Should we stay in bed a little while? You know…” he asked, his voice dropping suggestively as he wiggled his brows.
But this time, he didn’t stop there. As he leaned in closer, he slowly stuck out his tongue and wiggled it playfully, making his intentions blatantly clear.
Your face immediately turned bright red.
“Steve!” you exclaimed, quickly pressing your hand to his lips and pushed him away to stop him before he got any closer, utterly flustered by the suggestive gesture.
He chuckled against your hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief. For a second, you felt him wiggle his tongue against your palm, teasing you further before you jerked your hand back with a mix of shock and embarrassment.
“Unbelievable!” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more.
He gave you a devilish grin, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.
“What? Just offering some ideas, sweetheart,” he teased, giving you a playful wink.
“No, Sam’s going to be here soon for your morning run, so go prepare.”
The excitement drained from his face, “I do?”
“Yes!”
Johnny—or rather, the man you thought was Steve—let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed by your refusal. This wasn't like Steve at all. Steve was always respectful, sweet, and… well, a gentleman. But today? He seemed like a different man entirely.
“Guess I forgot,” he said with a smirk, sitting up slowly and stretching. His tone was casual, but the grin he gave you was anything but innocent.
As he shifted in bed, he leaned back casually and gave a quick, deliberate glance downwards before gesturing toward the noticeable outline in his sweatpants. The fabric clung snugly, revealing the distinct, firm shape of his dick pressing against the material, enough to leave little to the imagination.
“But if you change your mind about staying in bed…” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you know where to find me.”
You blinked in disbelief, your cheeks burning as he got out of bed and strolled toward the bathroom. He threw one last playful wink at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you there in a state of complete confusion.
"What the hell is going on with him today?" you muttered to yourself.
You climbed out of bed and started to get ready for the day, you tried to shake off the feeling that something was… off. Maybe Steve was just in a playful mood? Maybe he was testing out some new approach to your relationship, though you couldn't help but wonder where it had come from all of a sudden.
But, soon enough, you heard the front door open and Sam's voice echoed through the apartment. "Yo, Rogers! Are you ready for our run?"
You peeked out from the bedroom just in time to see "Steve" step out of the bathroom, giving you another grin before heading out to meet Sam. He greeted him casually, as if everything was perfectly normal.
Sam looked over at you with a quick nod. “Hey, Y/N. Morning.”
“Morning,” you replied, though your voice sounded more distant than usual. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look directly at Sam, worried your face might give away just how weird the morning had been.
As they left for their run, you were left alone, still wondering why Steve was acting so differently. But then, you shook your head. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe he was just feeling particularly confident today. Either way, it was Steve, your Steve, and you trusted him.
Right?
× × × ×
You made breakfast while ‘Steve’ is out on a run. You tried to shake off your confusion by busying yourself with making coffee. It wasn't helping. The memory of Steve's unusually bold behaviour lingered in your mind.
And just when you were about to pour yourself a cup, you felt a sudden smack on your ass. You yelped in surprise, nearly spilling the coffee. Whipping around, you saw Steve standing there with a smug grin on his face, looking very proud of himself.
"Steve!" you gasped, your heart racing for all the wrong reasons. "What are you—"
"What?" he said with an innocent shrug, though his mischievous grin betrayed him. "Just saying hello."
You narrowed your eyes at him. “By smacking me on my ass?”
“Can't help it, you look too cute when you're all focused," he teased, stepping closer.
His hands slid around your waist, and before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. Your breath hitched. This was not the Steve Rogers you knew. But as much as his behaviour was throwing you off, you couldn't deny the butterflies his actions stirred in your stomach.
"Steve, what's gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Instead of answering, Steve leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose—until you were giggling uncontrollably.
“Steve, stop it!” you laughed, trying to push him away, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
Your laughter was cut short as his lips trailed lower, brushing down to the side of your neck. The playful atmosphere shifted instantly, your breath hitching in your throat. His kisses became more deliberate, slow and teasing, sending sparks of heat through your skin.
“Steve…” you whispered, but your words melted into a quiet gasp as his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear. He lingered there, pressing soft, lingering kisses, making your pulse race.
His warm breath fanned over your skin, and without warning, his lips latched onto your neck, sucking gently but with enough pressure that you knew he was leaving a mark. A deep, guttural hum escaped him as he continued, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled your body against him.
The sensation of his lips and the gentle tugging of his teeth made your head spin, and you instinctively tilted your head, giving him better access.
“Steve,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his.
“Can’t help it,” he muttered against your skin between kisses. “You drive me crazy.”
His voice was low and rough, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. He sucked on your neck again, his tongue flicking over the spot before he pulled back slightly to admire his work.
"You’re gonna have to explain this one," he murmured with a grin, his lips ghosting over your ear, still hovering close enough to keep you breathless.
× × × ×
For the next hour, you tried to regain some composure, but it was hard with the heat of Steve’s kisses still tingling on your neck. Every time you moved, you could feel the slight sting of the mark he’d left behind, a not-so-gentle reminder of how wild this morning had been.
After making the bed and tidying up, you decided to head to the living room to relax for a bit, hoping that "Steve" had calmed down from whatever flirty streak had taken over him. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a little… off. He's been too quiet.
You stepped into the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw practically hitting the floor.
There, casually sprawled on the couch, was Steve in his birthday suit. Stark naked. The only thing covering him was your guitar, strategically placed across his lap. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the couch, while his free hand strummed lazily at the strings.
He looked up as if nothing was out of the ordinary, a casual, half-lidded grin spreading across his face.
“Hey,” he said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
You blinked. Once. Twice.
“Steve… what the hell are you doing?” you finally stammered, struggling to form coherent words as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.
He shrugged nonchalantly, still strumming the guitar.
“Just thought I’d serenade my girl.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted his head. “You know, I think I’m getting better at this guitar thing.”
Your cheeks flamed red as your gaze flickered between his shamelessly exposed body and the guitar that, frankly, wasn’t doing the best job at covering much.
“Put some clothes on!” you squeaked, your face burning from the sight in front of you. “What if someone walks in? Sam might—"
“Sam’s gone,” he cut in smoothly, winking. “It’s just you and me, babe.” He tilted his head, clearly amused by your reaction. “Besides, you weren’t complaining this morning.”
You could feel the heat rising to your face again, this time in full force. "That doesn't mean you get to... to do this!"
He just smirked, lazily leaning back on the couch, the guitar still resting against him. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t like it.”
“Steve, for the love of everything, PLEASE, just put some clothes on,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow erase the image from your brain.
Instead of listening, he suddenly stood up, the guitar still barely covering anything, and with the confidence of someone performing at a sold-out show, he started singing. Loudly.
“And you're kissin' on my neck, I'm like, “Oh”, Got your hands up on my chest, I'm like, “Oh”” he belted out dramatically, grinning ear to ear as he took a step toward you, his voice echoing through the room.
You panicked.
"Oh my God, Steve! No!" you squealed, immediately clamping your hands over your ears, turning away from him as fast as possible
“Kiss me 'til there's nothin' left, Oh my god, oh my god!” he sang even louder, walking toward you like some rock star, his guitar still precariously covering him as he inched closer.
You darted behind the coffee table, creating a barrier between the two of you, your face blazing red.
“Lalalalalalalala!” You covered your ears tighter, trying to block out the sight and sound of your naked boyfriend serenading you. “Lalalalalalala! I can't hear you.”
But he wasn't stopping. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him further.
“Why are you running, baby?”
He grinned wickedly, circling around the coffee table like a predator playing with his prey. "You could really tear me apart, but- I love you like that, Everything you do just turns me on, I love you like that, Body on my mind like all night long.”
You squeaked and moved in the opposite direction, keeping the table between you, but Steve—guitar still precariously positioned—was unstoppable, matching your every move. It was ridiculous, like a slow-motion chase scene in a rom-com, but you couldn’t help but laugh through your embarrassment.
"Steve! Seriously, stop!" you cried out, ducking and weaving as he chased you around the table, his singing never faltering.
"I love you like that!" he belted, reaching out with one hand as if trying to grab you. You yelped, dodging him by moving to the other side.
"Lalalalalalalala!" you cried, your hands clamped tighter over your ears as you rushed toward the door, desperate to escape.
His laughter echoed in the living room, the sound of his voice-and that ridiculous guitar performance following you as you fled to the safety of the kitchen. Behind you, you could hear him laughing even harder.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop!" he called after you, his voice still tinged with amusement.
You leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your face still burning red. Today was officially out of control.
And this wasn't the Steve Rogers you signed up for.
× × × ×
As the day finally wound down, you were still trying to recover from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded earlier. After a long, flirty, and borderline chaotic day with “Steve,” you were just glad it was almost bedtime.
You had managed to avoid another musical performance from him after the whole guitar incident, but the playful energy hadn’t completely faded. As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, you could feel his eyes on you from across the room, watching your every move.
“Don’t even think about it,” you mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
He was lounging on the bed, shirtless now, with that same mischievous grin you’d been seeing all day.
“What?” he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.
You rolled your eyes and spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your mouth. “You know exactly what.”
He laughed, the sound low and smooth as he got up and sauntered over to you, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood floor. Before you could react, he was behind you, his arms sliding around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“I was just admiring how cute you look in your pajamas,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.
You sighed, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to the heat of his skin against yours.
“Steve, it’s been a long day,” you said, your voice weary but laced with affection. “Can we just... go to bed? Without any more surprises?”
He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lingering for just a second before pulling away with a grin.
“Alright, alright,” he relented, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll behave.”
You gave him a playful glare, narrowing your eyes as you turned to face him. “You said that earlier today, and then I walked into the living room and—”
“Okay, this time I’ll behave,” he interrupted with a laugh, holding his hands up defensively. “Promise.”
Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but smile. He may have been driving you absolutely crazy today, but this version of Steve—or Johnny, whoever he really was—was still undeniably charming in his own chaotic way.
Once you finished up in the bathroom, you both crawled into bed, the covers cool against your skin. Steve—or, well, Johnny—rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gazed at you with that playful smirk.
“You sure you don’t want a little bedtime serenade?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive.
You groaned and pulled the blanket up over your head, burying yourself beneath the covers. “No!” you said, your voice muffled. “We’re done with that for today!”
He laughed again, the sound warm and contagious as he settled down beside you. The teasing faded, replaced by a softer, more familiar warmth as his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close to him.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentle now as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
You peeked out from under the covers, smiling despite yourself. “Goodnight, Steve.”
As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this flirty version of Steve would last—and whether or not you were ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.
× × × ×
The next morning, you stirred awake, the early light filtering through the curtains, and you felt the familiar warmth of strong arms slipping around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into the embrace at first—until the events of the previous day rushed back to you. Your eyes snapped open, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped slightly, pulling away from the arms that had suddenly felt different, your heart pounding.
“Whoa, hey—what’s wrong?” Steve's voice came out soft, laced with confusion and concern. You turned over to face him, and instantly, you could tell something had changed. His eyes weren’t twinkling mischievously, there was no sly grin or playful wink. Instead, his brow was furrowed in concern, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you again.
“Steve?” you whispered, your voice hesitant, scanning his face. He looked… like himself again. That quiet, gentle warmth was back, the one that had been missing yesterday.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, still looking concerned. “Are you okay? You jumped like I startled you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch soft and careful, nothing like the bold, confident gestures from the day before.
You blinked at him, your mind racing. The contrast between today and yesterday was stark. Yesterday, he had been all cocky smirks and teasing touches, constantly riling you up. But now? Now, Steve seemed completely aware of what had happened, but wasn’t letting on.
“I—uh, I’m fine,” you stammered, still trying to process it all. “You just… caught me off guard.”
Steve frowned, clearly still confused by your reaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your arm as he studied you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nodded, but your heart was still racing. "Yeah… you’re just… different from yesterday."
His brow furrowed further, but now there was something else behind his eyes. He looked like he was holding something back. “Different? What do you mean?” he asked, though you could sense he already knew.
You hesitated, biting your lip. “Yesterday, you were just… more… flirty,” you said carefully, watching his reaction. “Like, a lot more. You were… singing to me. Naked. With my guitar.”
Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his face turning red almost instantly, but there was something else—recognition. “What? I—I did that?” He didn’t seem shocked by the words, more by the fact that you were telling him.
You nodded, your own face heating up at the memory. “Yeah. And you were… really, really bold. Smacking my butt, picking me up, kissing me all over…"
Steve's gaze drifted down, and before you could even say another word, his fingers gently brushed against your neck, right where Johnny had left that bold mark. His touch was tender at first, but the moment his thumb traced over the small bruise, his entire expression shifted.
"That motherfucker! I'm going to kill him!”
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Eye of the Beholder
Pairing: Bodyguard!Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Summary: Steve is your beautiful bodyguard and he thinks you're beautiful, too.
Word Count: Over 1.7k
Warnings: Bodyguard trope, fluff, tension, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Anon requested for Bodyguard!Steve (who still does art) to dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff) with prompt #45 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You shuffled through your closet with an audible sigh. You had to make an appearance at a party tonight and still didn't know what to wear. It was ridiculous since you had a wide range of dresses and outfits to choose from, but your heart wasn't in it. Maybe because you didn't want to attend. You’d rather curl up and watch a movie as you fell asleep, but it was part of your job to socialize and look pretty.
You weren't going to complain when many out there had it worse.
“Why don't you get some rest instead of going through your closet? Again?”
You turned and stared at your bodyguard who sat across the room. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes, Steve Rogers was stunning enough to be a model. With his intimidating stature though, he made the right call by becoming a personal protection specialist. Easy on the eyes and built like a brick house, today he wore a tight blue shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and chest. He looked like the type of man who could toss you around if you asked nicely.
But seeing the sketchpad in his lap, you wondered if your paths ever would've crossed had he focused on an art career instead.
“You know you don't have to be here until tonight, right?” You asked, ignoring his suggestion as you shut the door. “Or do you like spending your time off watching over me?”
It wasn't your idea to hire a bodyguard, but you understood your agent’s insistence for you to have one. There were overzealous fans and creeps out there who wanted you. Ones who would stop at nothing to have you. All because you were a model. And while you weren't aware of any recent threats or danger, you needed someone like Steve to watch out for you.
Better safe than sorry.
But Steve himself? He was a pleasant surprise. You expected a stoic but polite man since he called you “ma’am” with the most serious expression upon meeting you. The more time spent with him, you realized passion lurked beneath the surface. Beyond that, he was authentic. In a world surrounded by plastic smiles, fake talk, and people ready to knock you from the pedestal you never asked to be set on to begin with, he was a much needed breath of fresh air.
“Technically my next day off is two days from now, ma’am,” he gently corrected you. You could listen to him talk all day. “But day off or not, I don't mind spending any extra time with you.”
“Oh,” you said, your cheeks hot. You spent days around gorgeous people who didn't make you bat an eye or stutter, but any sort of compliment or kind word from this man always got to you. “Hey, haven't I told you not to call me ma’am?”
“You have. On more than one occasion over the last couple of months.” A smile touched his kissable lips. “I guess it slipped my mind.”
You leveled him with a cool gaze. “So, your eidetic memory is limited to visual aspects and not auditory memories?’ You asked.
His face lit up when he smiled. “You remembered that I have an eidetic memory?”
You pointed a finger at him. “Keep calling me ma’am and you’ll be out of a job,” you said, deflecting from his question.
He chuckled, not at all afraid of your threat. “You won't fire me,” he said.
It was true. Steve had lasted longer than you expected because you liked him. More than that, you trusted him. He was the kind of man who would lay down his life for you and also keep your secrets safe. Not that you had many, but you wouldn't hesitate to tell him anything.
Anything except how your thoughts about Steve were sometimes unprofessional.
“I guess I won't, but don't think I won't make you carry my clutch around if you keep that up,” you teased, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. Steve has been in your room countless times and it always felt a bit warmer with him there. “On that note, I’m sorry you have to go to the party tonight.”
At least you didn't have to bring a fake date. Lord, you couldn't stand PR stunts like that. You didn't judge those in the industry who did it since you understood why. It just wasn't for you.
Would Steve have been jealous if you did? Or would he have insisted that you go alone for your safety?
“Don't apologize. Where you go, I go,” he assured you, your heart swelling. You reminded yourself that it was his job to do that and nothing more. “Just give me the signal when you want to leave.”
Steve didn't just keep an eye on you for protection, but looked out for your well-being. He made sure you got rest when you were tired, food when you were hungry, and privacy when the crowd became too much. Your past boyfriends never paid attention or cared that much. Why was a bodyguard so concerned?
“Do you ever get tired of this?” You asked, leaning back on your hands as you regarded him. “Keeping an eye on me? Going where I'm going?”
He stopped sketching to look at you, his eyes sparkling with affection that you liked to imagine he reserved for only a select few. “I say with complete sincerity that not only am I not tired of being your bodyguard, but you’re the best client I’ve ever had the privilege of protecting.”
You were certain stars shone in your eyes. “You flatter me, Steve.”
“I only speak the truth.”
You covered your mouth when you yawned. “Flattery. Truth. You’re still good to me and I appreciate it.”
Steve sat up straight and put his pencil down, concern etched in his face. “You’re tired. I think you should take a quick nap while you can.”
The man had a bossy tendency at times, but it was for your own good. You waved him off anyway. You could sleep later tonight. It wasn't that big of a deal. “What are you drawing?” You asked.
“Take a nap,” he said again, his voice low.
You couldn't help but shiver. That kind of tone almost made you blurt out “yes, sir”, but you refrained. “You're drawing ‘take a nap’?” You asked instead, doing an inner cheer when his lips twitched in a smile. “Show me what it is and I’ll get some sleep. Just for you.”
“Just for me?” He asked.
“I think if anyone could get me to do anything without too much of a fight, it's you, Steve,” you said sincerely
He ran a hand through his hair and shyly ducked his head. “I can't say no to those eyes.” He brought his chair closer so you didn't have to get up. “But no insulting my work, okay? My ego can’t take it today.”
“Since your ego can't take it today, I’ll save the insults for tomorrow,” you giggled, but it stopped the moment he showed you the page.
It was a drawing of you.
You almost touched the page before you stopped yourself, not wanting to smudge it. The details were immaculate, down to your facial features and how you held yourself. You couldn’t say it was like looking in a mirror because you had never seen yourself look so beautiful, but it was still a reflection of you and something deeper.
He captured an essence that no camera ever had. One you didn't know you possessed. It was a tender and sensual story told through his eyes. Was this really how you looked to him?
“Steve, this is…” You lost your breath as you looked in his eyes. Where he had been shy a moment ago, he held his head high. Proudly. He should be proud of his talent. “It’s beautiful.”
“You're beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze a combination of soft and heated. A combination that made you lick your lips and set your heart ablaze. “It’s, uh, also not the first drawing I’ve done of you,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair again.
You saw color in his cheeks as you smiled at him. “You think I'm beautiful?” Plenty of people told you that, but you liked it more coming from him. It was an earnest sort of declaration without demanding anything from you in return. “And you have more drawings of me?”
Part of you hoped he drew you in intimate positions since you selfishly wanted him to desire you.
“You're the most beautiful person I've ever known.” Steve placed a large hand on your cheek and you didn't hesitate to lean in, your heart racing faster. Could he see your pulse racing in your neck? “And I do have more. Maybe if you're good, I’ll show them to you.”
Please.
You thought he was going to close the gap and kiss you, but a knock at the door made him pull away and reach for the gun in his holster. It was both sexy and disappointing to see him slip into his bodyguard mode. That was why he was there though. To protect you. Your safety came first.
“Steve?” An unfamiliar voice called from the other side of the door.
Steve’s shoulders relaxed, but he shook his head. “New guy. Doesn't know the knock yet. I’ll be right back,” he muttered, surprising you by brushing his lips against your forehead. “Lay down, please. I need you to get some rest for both of us.”
You watched him walk to the door and waited until he grabbed the handle to answer. “Maybe you can join me. Sir.”
The muscles in his back tightened, his gaze dark as he glanced back at you. “Be good,” he growled, leaving the room quickly. It was a sound you hadn't heard before.
Giggling, you flopped back on your bed. Steve drew you. He thought you were beautiful. He desired you. At least, you hoped so. Now the question was, how long would you stay at the party tonight before you picked up where you left off?
And would you behave?
I hope I did this justice. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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