#steve rogers x sex worker reader

[ramp-it-up]

Sugar, Cubed

Photo found on Pinterest

Summary: I revisited Sugar and the boys from the Sugar is Sweet séries, and let me tell you. Bucky and Steve sure have grown up from their college days. They are no longer playing around. And they are coming for you. How do you choose? And do you have to?

Word Count: 3.5K

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader; boss Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. Roommate/Co-worker au, S MUT! Angst, little bit of slow burn. Main character injury, allusions to sex, sexual tension, indecent proposal, caught between two lovers trope, idiots in love, Tony being Tony, truth or dare, talk of voyeruism, possibility of group sex, eventual polyandry.

A/N: This is related to the Sugar is Sweet au, but can be read alone. This is part one, part two will be posted next week. I hope you like it. This is part of Falloween 2024.

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——

You met the two most hated men in your life while you were living together as recipients of the prestigious Stark STEM Fellowship at NYU.

There was an instant spark when you met James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers, best friends from childhood. They sarcastically named you Sugar because of your initial rudeness, but the nickname just stuck around after you warmed up to them.

In the Stark Fellows program, life was hard work and hard play. Soon it was down to just you, Bucky and Steve, and life was a dream with parties, booze, and almost anything you wanted, as long as you lent your minds to the work.

Tony Stark tolerated anything that would keep productivity high. He knew that all work and no play would make Bucky, Sugar and Steve dull scientists.

So he encouraged you three to play. And funded it too.

Steve and Bucky were so protective of you, their sweet Sugar. The sexual tension that came with living with them was heady stuff.

You basked in the glow of Bucky and Steve's attention, while observant of the lines of partners at their bedroom doors and the competitiveness between the football quarterback and lacrosse captain.

You swore that neither Bucky nor Steve would ever win you, no matter the plays they made. But they each had you sprung in different ways. And they were so damn competitive.

They both wanted your heart.

It was only a matter of time before you gave it to each of them.

You fell hard for Bucky first. And it was urgent and intense.

But after just a year together, Bucky accepted a position with Stark Labs in Bucharest for a term that stretched into two years as he completed grad school at Politehnica. It happened without warning. You were angry at his choice and trapped in New York by your own contract with Stark for graduate work. 

You and Bucky were over. And you were heartbroken.

Steve’s waiting arms were open, and it was effortless and freeing to realize that the golden boy was the one who truly loved you. And he’d always been there. Your heart healed. You thought.

According to social media, Bucky seemed to love his new location, extending his contract beyond the initial year-long contract to finish his degree. It seemed that all he did was work.

Not that you were stalking his IG or anything.

He didn’t communicate with you directly, and with Steve only intermittently. It was like he’d erased his best friend and his best girl from his life. 

It made sense, since his best girl was now his best friend’s girl.

Then, during his second year, Bucky's stay in Romania was cut short,  he came back to New York, although not in the way you imagined.

Bucky had been critically injured; losing a limb. Tony made sure he had the best care, flying with Bucky to Wakanda for experimental surgery and overseeing his recovery. 

You found out via a social media after Bucky was back in town, and not from Tony or anyone else.

You were livid.

You raged at Steve, who had lied to you that he had to go to London for two weeks for work when he was actually in Wakanda at Bucky’s bedside.

The betrayal ran deep.

You and Steve were done after that, although you continued to work side by side at the labs. You felt as if Tony was trying to drive you over the edge, having you work around the clock with your ex. But he didn’t care. He had some insane theory that the tension would yield better results.

Each day, you longed for the hour that you could go to your posh new quarters in Stark tower. Although it was lonely, at least your apartment was private, and you could unwind in peace. Your days were tense, but predictable.

Until they weren’t anymore.

——

One afternoon, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you stared into the monitor to watch the results from the latest compound analysis roll numbers across your workstation.

“Hey there, Sugar.”

You froze, looking up and out over Manhattan through the window above your station. You couldn’t believe it, but you saw a pale reflection of him in the mirrored glass.

You slowly turned around.

Bucky looked good, his pale complexion not all the result of the blue gray skies over the Hudson. His face had grown more angular, his hair was shorter, and his eyes seemed older, but outside, he was the same Bucky. 

You didn’t know what you were expecting. 

Bucky Barnes seemed whole, except his left hand, the “golden arm” that was the pride of Bobcat football, was now black and gold metal. 

Vibranium. 

You stared at it as it reached for you.

“So I don’t get a hug?” 

Your eyes moved to his face while Steve cleared his throat and reminded you that he was there. You tried to forget his existence most days, but Bucky walking into your lab had erased him from your mind completely. For a moment.

“Sugar–”

You cut him off.

“Fuck you, Grant.” 

You looked back at Bucky with tears in your eyes.

“And fuck you, James.”

Despite your epithets, you threw yourself into his arms, sobbing with emotion.

“How could you…?”

You whispered it into his suit coat, your fingers digging into the material at his back as you cried into his shoulder. Bucky held you tight against him, and he felt harder, more solid. 

You realized that under all of the anger and hurt, you were mainly just relieved that he was alive.

Over two years of anxiety and unprocessed feelings were coming out, and Bucky rocked you as your body heaved. Steve came up behind you and hugged you both.

For a minute you relished the feeling, being held by the only two men that you ever had feelings for. You felt safe. But then you remembered the secrets and the lies, and anger flooded you again. You twisted out of their grasp.

“Don’t get any ideas, assholes.”

You moved away from them and wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly cold.

“Do you know how worried I was? No one gave me any information. At all. I had to find out from social media. I felt like a fool, Bucky.”

You scowled at him.

“And you. You knew that, Cap. And you lied to my fucking face.”

You glared at Steve.

You looked from Steve to Bucky, who shared a guilty glance with each other. 

“That’s my fault, Sugar. I– I made Tony and Steve swear not to tell you.”

Your dark haired ex boyfriend looked at his shoes as he rubbed the back of his neck with his new hand. He held it up and looked at it and then at you.

“Didn’t know how you would feel about this.”

You ignored the uncertainty and hurt in his eyes.

"What do you want? A cookie? A pat on the head?  A tear? You are not going to make me feel sorry for you. Not when you let everyone else but me in on your secret."

You cocked your head and gazed curiously at the new appendage, then back at him.

“Bucky, I am stronger than you think. And I loved you.”

Both Steve and Bucky winced at the word ‘loved,’ but both for different reasons.

“I would have accepted you anyway you came. And I would have been by your side while you recovered. But you didn’t want that. But it looks as if you’re fine.” 

Steve sat back down at his workstation, resigned. You shook your head at him. If it wouldn’t have cost you a million dollars, which you didn’t have, you would have walked out of Stark Industries and moved across the world. But you had work to do.

“You’re interrupting our work here. You need to leave.”

You wanted him away from you like fire.

“That’s what I’m tryna tell you, Doll.” 

Bucky strolled over to the locker area and took off his coat, grabbing goggles and a lab coat.

“I’m reporting for duty. Tony assigned me back to the New York lab.”

—-

Tony leaned against the bar in his office, after he downed the drink that he’d offered you and that you’d refused. It was only 10:46 am. You were trying to hand in your resignation. Or at least ask for a transfer to a new location.

“And just where do you think you’re going to go, Sugar?”

You glared at your boss. Bolstered by anger, this was the least intimidated, and most angry, you’d ever been at him.

“Paris, maybe? Tokyo? Hell, even Des Moines. I’ll take anything. I need space.”

Tony shook his head. 

“I need you here. The productivity with Barnes back is about to be through the roof.”

You just stared at him incredulously.

“You’re not thinking with your brain. Your heart and what is pounding between your legs are in the way.” 

Your mouth dropped open.

“...But the tension between you Barnes and Rogers will make me a lot of money. I’ve studied you since your freshman year. I know what makes you tick, what motivates you to do your best work. And the numbers don’t lie. Being right in the middle of Bucky and Cap makes lots of money for Stark Industries.”

You stared out at the view of New Jersey, outraged.

“Besides. I have the exclusive contract over your mind, body, and soul for the next seven years. Might as well make the most of it.”

You sighed and took the drink Tony offered you this time.

—-

Bucky Barnes was the most infuriating man you’d ever met, second only to Steve Rogers.

Your brain was scrambled when you weren’t working, so you worked that much harder to stay in control. You hated when Tony was right.

Here you were, flanked by two gorgeous men whose work clothes only accentuated their powerful bodies. Bodies that you knew very well. Your tongue had traced every plane of each of them. Your hands explored their broad shoulders and taught, muscular frames. Your fists had clenched their throbbing cocks and you had accepted them inside you. 

No matter how mad you were at them, you couldn’t get them out of your mind.

Imagining Bucky crashing his lips to yours as he backed you up against a wall made your core throb. And dreaming about Steve’s hands around your thighs as he lifted you onto a lab table made your nipples tingle.

Working in between them in the lab was torture for your neglected body and soul. You were doomed to work in  between the two men who’d fucked you most thoroughly and recently.

You didn’t even want to think about your heart.

You ignored the lingering looks in their blue eyes, the way they gentled their voices when they spoke to you, and the way they tried to come in contact with you for no reason. The number of times fingers lingered over passed specimens, the way space became so tight that they had to squeeze behind you in the lab, and the uncomfortable number of times you ended up between them in the equipment closet made you lose your breath.

Steve and Bucky never pressed you for anything, and all you had to say was ‘excuse me,’ for them to move out of your way, but it was untenable. You would give neither of them the satisfaction of getting upset. You managed made it through work and home to your brand new vibrator every night after long days of fighting their pheromones in the lab.

After a week of forced proximity, you were experiencing the forced Stark Industries Happy Hour. As you waited for your drink at the bar, you thought it strange that Tony had never made them mandatory before Bucky came back. That was quite the coincidence.

You wanted to pace yourself with your drinking as you realized that you had to stay there for another couple of hours to get the bonus that came with attendance. The word ‘happy’ and the names Bucky Barnes or Steve Rogers did not go together, so you participated in each round to numb the desire that was plaguing you. 

For someone so smart. You were so clueless sometimes.

—-

As you rode the elevator in Stark Tower to your apartment later that evening, it seemed as if the elevator was moving extra slowly. You didn’t know if it was the tequila affecting your senses, or an actual malfunction, so you asked FRIDAY for analytics, but for some reason, she said you didn’t have clearance for the answer.

You were mad and mute for a minute, trying to clear your head for the security code. It was then that one of your fellow passengers, who you were trying to ignore, broke the silence.

“Okay Sugar, truth, or dare?”

You looked at him as Steve watched you both. 

“I said, truth, or dare.”

“Truth is Bucky, we’re not kids anymore.”

“So you pick truth. You don’t get to pick the question, though.”

Bucky ignored your ire.

“Which one of our cocks is better, mine or Steve’s?”

Your eyes widened and you gasped as Steve interjected,

“Buck…”

“What, Punk? Remember she rated them before she experienced them. Did that hold out? Or did she tell you that you were the 9.9 too?”

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to watching the floor count, mouth set in a thin line. You had not, in fact, told Steve that he was the 9.9. 

“Stop being a little shit, James.” 

You were rocked, memories flooding back, dysregulating your nervous system even more.

“So you’re saying you won't answer the truth?”

You crossed your arms and legs as you leaned back against the elevator wall. You looked up at the floor indicator lights, trying to stop the emotions from getting to you.

“You can pass. Or you can take a dare, Sugar.”

You huffed, fighting the urge to just say pass. Some lingering adolescent urge refused to let you.

“This is so fucking ridiculous.”

You spoke it outwardly, but you were talking to yourself, to your riotous body, which was reacting to these two men in this enclosed space in the most alarming way.

Bucky was watching you intently, but Steve hadn’t turned around, just replied in that voice of his.

“Those are the rules, Sugar. You should probably answer the question or take the dare.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath when you realized what this was. You were dealing with male egos and competitiveness. And they wanted to know the answer, hear you talk about their cocks when for some reason the agave gods were making you horny.

You had to get out of there. 

“You’re not making stupid bets and putting notches in the bedposts any longer. Bucky, we were together, and then you left. I thought it was something that it was not. Then Steve and I got together. I loved you both and in return, you both played me. You both won.” 

Steve turned around and faced you as Bucky advanced closer. He licked his lips and you wanted, no you needed, to run.

“You think I didn’t love you, Sugar? Shit, I worshiped you.”

The sensation of Bucky’s firm body crowding you in bed, taking up the mattress, leg wedged between your thighs while he delivered hot kisses and a slow grind against your clit came out of nowhere. You missed it. You wanted it again. But you lifted your chin as you straightened your spine, determined to resist him.

“You left me.”

“Stark made me!”

Bucky’s blue eyes were wide with emotion.

“‘S’okay Buck. She doesn’t believe I loved her either. Even though I always have. And I caught her when you were gone.”

You looked up at Steve and saw the hurt, and you were preparing not to care, but the feeling of Steve naked against your back, his hands roaming all over you, whispering assurances and praise as he rocked inside and made you come apart in his grip almost made your knees buckle.

You had to move, so you pushed at the rock hard wall of them and they let you move them to get to the elevator controls.

“Why. Won’t. This. Thing. Move!?!?”

You pushed too many buttons at once as Steve and Bucky tried to stop you. The only thing that stopped was the slow progress of the elevator. The small room jolted to a halt, and you stumbled, right into Bucky and Steve’s arms as everything went dark.

“Well now, Sugar. You should have just taken the dare.”

Bucky’s sass enraged you and you cursed and batted their hands away from you as you reached for your purse to find your phone.

—-

A half an hour later, you were all sitting on the floor, Bucky’s jacket beneath you and Steve’s jacket around your arms because the climate control was off. There was no telling how long it would be before someone would find you.

There had been silence since you realized you had not cell phone signal and cursed for 3 minutes straight. You were more than sober now.

God, you wished you were drunk.

“Answer the question. Or take the dare, Sugar.”

This time it was Steve.

“Your fucking competitiveness is so annoying, you know that? Can you two accomplish anything on your own, just for your own pride? Or altruism? Or shits and giggles?”

You could feel their eyes on you in the dark. You fought against them in the darkness, or you were just fighting the darkness, because the lack of sight was enhancing your other senses, and lord you didn’t really want to feel those right now.

“Truth. Or Dare?”

Bucky’s velvet voice was undeterred. You shook your head at it.

“Fine. If it will get you to leave me alone. Dare.”

“I dare you to give up control.”

The response was immediate, as if he were waiting for you to say that.

You groaned, a sound that sounded to sensual, even to your own ears. You were going for annoyed.

“Bucky, it’s late. I’m tired. I’m stuck in an elevator with my two exes. This is a nightmare. And you’re daring me to give up a concept?”

He chuckled.

“Not the concept of control. I think you know exactly what I mean. Give me control. One long weekend. It will be just like when we were roommates. But without the endless teasing and blue balls. This time you give us both that we deserve.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Bucky?”

Your head turned toward Steve, whose voice was on edge.

“I get to watch. You and Sugar, Steve. And direct. And participate…and we find out who is the best…”

“Hold on…”

You could feel Steve shifting in his position on the floor.

“Are you talking about….? Watching me and Sugar… what–?”

“Really Bucky? Do you have a metal brain as well?”

You wanted to fight, but them touching you was out of the question. Bucky was pure chaos.

“If we do this, what would that accomplish?”

“The fuck are you entertaining this nonsense for, Steve? Who the fuck–”

Bucky interrupted your rant.

“Well, you’ve entertained both of us, Sugar, haven’t you? Teased us. Toyed with us. Played us against the other. Wore our clothes and nothing else, slept between us in our bed. Teased us with that body well before we could really do anything about it.”

You dropped your head in your hands, exhausted, as Bucky continued.

“And then, when you finally granted us between your legs, one by one, there was always this spector hanging over the bed, or the floor, or the counter, or the lawn that we fucked on, wasn’t there?”

Bucky paused and you heard the bitterness in his voice. 

“The other one of us was always in the closet or the bushes, or in your head, weren’t we?”

"Don't blame me for your twisted predilections, Bucky."

“What about your predilections, Sugar? You’ve played us against each other long enough. Don’t forget. We both know what gets you off.”

Bucky’s voice wrapped around you in the dark, and you wanted to climb on and ride it as your clit began to pulse. You cursed your body’s reaction to him.

“We know what gets you off hard. Steve told me everything. And it was the same as with me. Your fantasies, Sugar…”

Steve spoke up.

“Bucky, this is uncalled for…”.

"Stop being such a boy scout."

“We know you, Sugar. What we don’t know is who you like the best. We deserve to know.”

“Bucky…”

“It would give us all closure, Steve.”

“You’re crazy, Bucky.”

“Put up or shut up, Sugar.”

Suddenly the lights came back on and you scrambled to stand up as the elevator started again, this time moving at normal speed. You looked between one man who was flushed red and the other who had a smirk on his face.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, as you bolted out, you replied to Bucky.

“Why don’t you just fuck each other? That will kill two birds with one stone.”

——

Next part: Simple Sugar

Let me know if you like it! 😊

[marvelouslizzie]

No One Else Matters

Summary: Things between you and Bucky Barnes have been going great until an Avengers dinner party reminds you of that one night you spent with Steve Rogers. Now you are afraid that the meaningless past hook-up might jeopardize your future with Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, secret relationship, alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (on birth control and clean), begging, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of past hook up with Steve Rogers, eavesdropping, no mention of y/n

A/N: Another random idea that turned into a one-shot thanks to my amazing friends. Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Also, some lines belong to her because she helped shape the story and I appreciate it a lot!

This story isn't any form of Steve Rogers hate. I just wanted to write a story like this and it wouldn't work with anyone else besides Steve. If you don't want to read a story where Steve is a past hook-up that didn't work out well, please stay away from the story.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. I would love to answer questions or start a conversation as long as it doesn't include any kind of hate.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Coming to this Avengers dinner might have been a big mistake. Essentially you were looking forward to this night because it had been a while since you saw your co-workers. Some are more like friends than co-workers, but working for SHIELD keeps everyone busy. Small events like this help people to get together, catch up and maybe plan other stuff for the future, but tonight feels somewhat different.

You were enjoying yourself until you saw Bucky and Steve casually chatting on the other side of the room. That doesn’t happen very often and it reminds you of things you'd rather not think about. Things that happened years ago. Like that one time, you hooked up with Steve. It was buried so deep into your memory, you simply forgot about it and it’s not like you see Steve that often. Occasionally, his team asks for your help and you try to do your best. And you have been nothing but friendly to each other since that night. You remember him taking it pretty well when you said you’d rather stay friends with him. He probably wasn’t looking for a relationship anyways.

It was before everyone found out HYDRA was nesting inside SHIELD for years. He was simply the golden boy. The first Avenger who unexpectedly returned. A savior. Everyone was in awe of him and tried to be their best version. It felt like a fairytale came true.

The problem is whenever people make an idol of someone expectations go over the roof. And when you meet that person, see what they are like up close, you just notice he’s just like anyone else. Even though they didn’t do anything wrong or bad, it still feels somehow disappointing.

He was different than what you expected him to be. You noticed that pretty quickly and decided to keep things professional. It worked out amazingly until… now. You look around, trying to calm yourself down, keeping that memory to yourself because this is definitely not the time to bring it up.

**

When the dinner finally starts, it turns out to be a good distraction. You chat with whoever is around you about recent missions, the latest gossip, and things SHIELD is planning to do in the near future. But your eyes keep wandering towards Bucky, who is seated across the table. It’s a huge relief to see Steve and him aren’t seated together or even close to each other. Everyone knows they used to be good friends, but that’s not the case anymore. Since Bucky is back to himself and started to work for SHIELD, things went downhill for their friendship. They slowly drifted apart.

You try hard not to glance back at him again, but he’s looking at you. That makes things even harder. You notice how his lips form a small smile whenever your eyes meet and how he tries to play it off as something he did because of his conversation. But you know his smile is caused by you and even though you don’t want to accept that, it melts your heart a little more.

After the dessert is served, people start to focus on their drinks more. Different groups are forming, and when you want to take check on Bucky, he quickly tilts his head to the right, signaling you to leave the room and meet him. You look around to see if anyone noticed, but no one’s focus is on you two. 

You do nothing but watch him discreetly walk away first, without waiting for an answer. He knows you will follow. And that’s exactly what you do: you place your empty glass on the counter and leave the room as subtly as he did. What you don’t notice is that someone actually has been watching you very closely.

You have no idea where Bucky went exactly, so you start to wander around, trying to guess where he’d choose to hide until he grabs you with his arm, pulling you inside an empty room before quickly locking the door.

“Bucky!” A half-yelp leaves your lips, but it’s muffled by his hand.

“It’s me,” he whispers against your ear before he starts to kiss your neck sloppily. “Relax.”

He doesn’t waste any time. His hands are everywhere on your body: grabbing your breasts over the clothes, squeezing your ass.

“I missed you.” His breathy whisper gives you goosebumps. 

“Oh, I missed you, too.” You grab his face with both of your hands and finally kiss him properly. He happily sighs and lets you take control. His lips are soft, tasting like bourbon, which surprises you because he is usually a beer kind of guy. Maybe he decided to try something different tonight since he isn’t the one paying. 

That reminds you of the party and everyone inside. Including Steve Rogers. Bucky’s ex-best friend. And that make the anxious feeling in your gut returns. You need to tell him about what happened between you and Steve. Even if you’re afraid that it would change everything between you two. But you aren’t ready to lose him. Not when you’ve just started to realize how strong your feelings are for him.

He doesn’t fail to notice the shift in your mood. You aren’t as present in the kiss as if you have something on your mind. He stops kissing you unexpectedly, making you give him a confused look.

“Are you okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.

You take a deep breath. Maybe it’s just better to tell him now and get it over with. What’s the point of delaying the inevitable?

“I gotta tell you something.”

You see how his concern grows even more. His expression is serious and full of worry.

“Do you want to break this off? Is that what it is?” 

God, the way he asked that question just hurts something inside you. He sounded so broken, so afraid.

“No, no! Of course not.” You quickly clear the air, leaving no space for any kind of misunderstanding. “But you might wanna break things off with me after I tell you… this.” 

You can see how your words confuse him. He squints, trying to understand what you are talking about and coming up with a reasonable explanation. You know whatever he’ll think about won’t be even close to the reality, but you didn’t expect his response either.

“Are you pregnant? Is that why you are nervous?” His hand caresses your cheek as he asks you. “You know I wouldn’t leave you for something like that, right? We can do whatever you want. It’s totally up to you.” 

No, you aren’t pregnant. That’s not even a possibility. You’ve been on birth control even before you two started to have sex. Still, hearing his soft-spoken words makes you melt inside. 

“No, baby, I’m not pregnant.” 

You both take a breath after eliminating another possibility. He looks at you fora few seconds, trying to decide if he should say it or not.

“Is it about you dating Steve?”

Words can’t describe how surprised you are. Questions flood your mind instantly. How much does he know? When did he find out? Who told him? And dating? No, you definitely did not date Steve Rogers. God, you have so many questions to ask. You don’t know where to start. 

“You know about that.” It comes out more like a question than a statement. The shock is so clear in your voice. 

“Of course, I know.” 

“How? When?” The questions come out one after another and make him smile a little. You stop yourself from asking even more and decide to make one thing clear. “And I did not date him. It was a one-time thing.”

“Oh.” He sounds surprised. Maybe he thought it was more serious, but if so why didn’t he bring it up before?

“When did you find out?” You have to know. 

“Not so long ago.”

“Who told you?” 

“Sam. He thought there was some kind of tension between you two, but I couldn’t see it. So he explained.” He doesn’t sound like it bothers him much, which is relieving.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same.”

He’s right. He can ask the same question. Your answer is simple, though.

“I actually forgot it happened.” Is he really smiling? “It wasn’t that memorable to me.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

You can’t help but laugh. God, you love him so much. You were worried sick about how he would react and here he is joking about it.

“Do you want an actual answer?” You finally ask. 

“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t seem to mind.

“It was okay.” 

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “So it was bad.” 

“Like I said, not memorable.” You choose to repeat. You don’t wanna disrespect him that much, but you don’t even remember much about it. That was one of the reasons you wanted to stay friends anyway.

“Doll, it’s fine.” He finally decides to answer you seriously.

“So you don’t mind?” 

“It was way before us. It’s not my place to judge you for it.” 

That’s a huge relief. You were so worried he would just choose some kind of bro code over you but no. He chose you. You breathe out with a smile on your face.

“And if someone is gonna get judged for their past, it’s not gonna be you.”

You instantly frown because you understood immediately what he meant by it.

“That’s not the same thing. I chose to hook up with him. You didn’t choose to get brainwashed.”

“Yeah, of course, but I am the one who killed those people.”

“Bucky, no.” You touch his chest, trying to comfort him without realizing it. “Don’t go there. Please. That’s not a fair comparison.” You want him to be free of this guilt. He’s trying to redeem himself so hard, it has to end somewhere.

“Fine.” He finally accepts it. “I don’t care about your past. I only care about your present and future. Is that better?” 

“Yes, it is better.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance. “You are always so forgiving, yet you are so harsh to yourself.”

“As long as you are mine, I don’t care about anything.” 

That does it. An unexpected jolt of arousal overwhelms you. Suddenly, you don’t feel shy anymore. 

“Can you…” You try to collect your words. “Can you fuck me like you did the last time?” Asking that out loud feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve drunk a bit more.

You watch as his eyes widen in response. Oh, he wants that as much as you do. No need to feel shy.

“Which position exactly?” He sounds so cheeky, but you can see his question is genuine. He needs additional info because it wasn’t a one-and-done.

“Against the wall.” You bit your lip, remembering how good it felt. So rough, yet so full of pleasure. You can’t help but shiver when you remember that orgasm.

“Fuck.” He surpasses a moan. “We have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” His voice is really low.

You eagerly nod in response. You aren’t sure if you can actually do it, but you will try your best if he’s going to do what you asked for. 

“God, I love you so much.” You can’t hold yourself back anymore. Hearing those words from him sparks something unstoppable inside you. Grabbing him by the face, you crash your lips against him. 

“I love you, Bucky.” You keep kissing him. “So much.” Your hands move south, unbuckling him as quickly as possible. 

Your movements are rushed but not sloppy. Like you did this a million times before. It feels familiar, but it doesn’t change how much you need him. Urgently. And he doesn’t seem to mind that your act as if you are in a hurry. When you finally unbutton his pants, they pool around his ankles, and that’s when he decides to lift you up. His hands stay under your ass while he presses you against the wall, your dress already curled up around your waist. 

“Are you ready for me, doll?” He asks with that voice he uses when he’s really aroused. It turns you on even more and you didn’t know that was possible.

“Yes.” You want him inside you so much. You need his lips on you. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”

“You do?” Oh, youknow this tone too well. He loves to tease you and make you talk more about what you want, and it’s always so rewarding. So you don’t hold back.

“Please, fuck me, I need your cock so badly.” Even though it’s dimly lit inside the room, you see the shift in his eyes. Your words are feeding some kind of primal need inside him. “I need you, baby, please. I’m so wet.”

“Let’s see if that’s true.” He holds you with one hand and aligns himself to your entrance with the other. You shouldn’t be surprised by how strong he is, but every time he manages to astonish you. He doesn’t even struggle to carry or hold you. When he finally thrusts inside you, a loud moan escapes your lips. The stretch is so fucking delicious. “Shh.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly try to apologize. “It just feels ssso good.” A low moan follows your words.

“You know I love to hear you, doll.” He starts moving. “I love how you always beg for more.” His free hand goes to your head, pushing a strand of hair back so he can see your face better. “But this time we need to keep it quiet. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

That makes him smile. You wrap your hands around his neck again, wanting to be close to him. That’s when you both hear a sound really close to you. So close that you feel like it came right at the door. You both still for a second, listening to find out if someone is outside, but there’s no more sound. So that noise is long forgotten in a minute.

You don’t even care if someone is outside. You don’t care if someone hears you fucking. Bucky Barnes loves you. No one else matters. Your lips clash against his. It’s such a sloppy kiss, but you love every second of it. His hand moves to your neck, holding you in place as he starts to pound on you.

“Is this how you wanted it?” He keeps asking, wanting you to speak, but you can't. “Is it that good you went speechless?”

You nod eagerly.

“Come on, darling. Use your words.” He’s moving relentlessly, taking your breath away with each stroke.

“Yes.” You finally manage to say. “Oh god, yes.”

“Yes to what?” He taunts you. “Is that what you wanted or is it that good?”

“Both!” You say louder than you intended, then you remember you promised to be good and you lower your voice. “Yes to both!”

“Good girl.” His flesh hand travels to your neckline. He quickly pushes the straps of your dress down more, finally revealing your breasts. You aren’t wearing a bra, thanks to the padded dress. “God, look at you.” He marvels at you. “Such a pretty little doll. All mine.” 

His mouth latches on your right breast, sucking and biting it while he keeps moving. He knows how to use his mouth well everywhere. It makes everything so much better. You can feel that pleasure starts to bottle up, your abdomen tensing.

Oh, he truly knows how to get you there. He knows how much you love it when you two climax together. It feels heavenly… like you are in your own little world and there’s no one but him there. Nothing else matters. As your legs start to shake with overwhelming pleasure, you imagine going back inside, talking to others while his come is dripping out of you. No one would know what you two were up to. Not a single soul. It’s your little secret. The thought makes you moan a little bit louder. Your hands grip hard on his shoulders. 

Bucky moans right next to your ear. “God, you feel so good.” His hands are gripping hard on your ass. “I wish I can stay inside you forever. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna go anywhere else. I just wanna keep fucking you, until you beg me to stop.” Does he know what his words do to you? Does he notice how it amplifies your orgasm? Or does he just say whatever he wants to say? “I’m gonna come.” He warns you. “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna come.” 

You ride your orgasms together, as he empties himself inside you. His head falls on your shoulder while he keeps holding you. His lips press against the crook of your neck. While you keep taking deep breaths, you can feel his heart racing. 

“Are you okay?” He asks while moving away enough to take himself out of you.

“Okay?” You question as he gently puts you on your feet. “I feel amazing.” 

You lift yourself on your tiptoes and give him a full wet kiss. 

“Now I believe you.” He gives you a little smile that only makes you want to kiss him again.

“I’ll be louder when we go home so you won’t have an ounce of doubt.”

“Yours or mine?” His question comes instantly.

“I don’t care.” You really don’t. All you want is him. Where, when, and how are just details.

He helps you shape your hair back to normal while you pull the stripes up. Your underwear is a mess and you are dripping out already. Bucky takes a napkin out of his pocket and kneels in front of you. He gently pushes the serviette between your folds, cleaning you up enough so you can go back inside. 

“Thank you.” You love it when he takes care of you like this. “But you know that won’t be enough. I will keep dripping all night.” 

“I’m counting on that.” You can see on his face how much that thought excites him. “Keep dripping onto your underwear while talking to others. Remember what we did here. Imagine what we will do later.” He stands up while you fix your dress and you realize that you can’t wait to leave this party already.

“You have such a dirty mouth. I love it.” You grab his face with one hand and just force him to kiss you. Not that you can actually force him to do anything, but he lets you anyway. “Come on. Let’s go back.”

**

It’s been a while since you returned to the party. Everything seems normal. No one even realized you were absent. No one is suspecting anything. That encourages you to look around for Bucky. When your eyes meet, he gives you a teasing smile while casually chatting with Sam.

The whole night you didn’t say a word to him. Not around other people. But you don't see any reason to keep avoiding him. Everyone knows you two are friendly. So you decide to walk over and chat a little.

“Oh, look who remembered us!” Sam jokes as soon as he notices you.

“Hello to you too, Sam.” You don’t mind his teasing. “Good to see you missed me.”

“Hey.” Bucky raises his beer bottle to casually greet you. He probably got tired of the bourbon.

“How are you, fellas?”

“Oh you know, missions and drinks. Same stuff,” Bucky answers your question. 

“Nothing new?” You tease him, just to see how he would react.

“Nope. Just little old me doing the same things.”

“Really, I keep telling him to go on a date or something but no. He prefers this misery instead.”

You try to surpass a smile forming on your lips, well aware of the exact reason why he’s declining the offer.

While you’re staring at each other, Sam notices Steve on the other side of the room and raises his hand. 

“Hey, Rogers!”

That’s definitely the last thing you need tonight, but there’s no way you can stop Sam. Steve joins your group in a couple of seconds, but for some reason, he looks… kinda miserable.

“You alright, man?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He absently answers. “I’m fine. Feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Maybe that super serum is finally wearing off.” Sam jokes and it manages to make Steve smile for a second.

“How are you all?” Steve asks while looking at the whole group, but his eyes stay on you for a bit longer than the rest.

“Oh, we are fine. We were talking about the lack of Mr. Barnes’s dating life.”

God, he isn’t going to let that go, is he? 

“Speaking of dating…” Sam continues while taking his phone off. “I met this guy the other day and he’s perfect for you!” Is he talking to you? He shows you a photo of this blonde guy who honestly looks alright, but he’s practically a stranger. “He’s a good guy and he fits your type. I can give your his number if you want.”

“What the fuck, Sam?” Your response makes the rest laugh. “You are playing matchmaker now?”

“I mean… someone gotta do it and I was hoping you would find someone to return the favor for me.”

You look at Bucky just to see he’s kind of enjoying this while Steve looks thoughtful for some reason.

“That’s definitely not my type.”

“Really?” Sam side-eyes Steve for a second to see his reaction, but it’s like he already knew that. 

“And I am already seeing someone, so…”

“Wait a second!” Sam sounds surprised. “You are seeing someone? Since when?”

“Why are you so surprised? You thought I would inform you about my love life or something?” Bucky is laughing quietly on the side, and Sam looks a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. I thought you were single. You are already off the market, huh?”

Bucky subtly nods to his last comment but doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah, it seems so.” You put your drink on the nearest surface and stretch your neck a little. 

“Tired?” Bucky asks this time.

“Yes. I’m thinking about leaving. Maybe I should call an Uber or something.” You make a move to take your phone out.

“Actually… I was considering the same thing. I can drop you home, you can save up the money.”

“Really?” You didn’t expect him to offer to leave with you. Usually, one of you leaves first and the other follows, but maybe after tonight's events, he decided that there’s no reason to hide anymore. “Sure, that'd be great.”

You see Sam rolling his eyes. “There go hours of effort.”

“You wanted to leave before?” It’s obvious you are talking to Bucky.

“No, not really, but he assumes that and tries to talk me into staying every time.” You start to laugh. It’s not hard to imagine why Sam thinks he’d rather be somewhere else.

“Sorry, Sam, but we are old. Apparently we need more sleep.” You are mocking yourself and Bucky at the same time, wondering how he’ll react.

“He is old, but you… not so much.”

“My soul is old and that’s enough.” You raise both of your hands and wave a goodbye. “Anyways, time to go. Good to see both of you.” Your thumbs and index fingers move around like two guns pointed at Sam and Steve.

“Good night,” Bucky simply adds.

While you two quietly walk away, Sam is already suspecting something is up.

“Did I drink too much or is there something going on between them?” Sam asks when you are far enough not to hear it.

“They are together.��� Steve tries to sound as casual as possible.

“Wait! Really?” He thought something was just blooming between you two, not a full on relationship. “How do you know?”

“I heard them.” Steve notices how it sounds and quickly adds: “Talking.”

“And you are okay with that?”

“Yeah, sure.” That doesn’t sound convincing at all. “It’s not my place to say anything. It was never that serious.” He isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince Sam or himself. “I mean… I think she’d want to get serious, but she talked about staying friends and I jumped on the opportunity and agreed because I didn’t want a relationship.”

Sam nods. “Well, good for them I guess. They seem like a good match.”

“They really do.”

[cockslutpadalecki]

Second Time Around

Summary: After a brutal assault by one of your co-workers, you choose to turn your experience into a positive, eventually becoming an ambassador for other victims, and in turn, an unintentional household name. However the good Captain America doesn’t seem to take to your newfound fame very well.

Characters: Dark/Mean!Steve Rogers x Ex!Shield!Reader.

Words: 3K.

Warnings: non-con, mentions of previous sexual assault, mentions of previous date rape/drugging, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, size kink. MINORS DNI.

A/N: Been working on this for far too long and finally managed to finish it. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support your content creators by sharing our work.

Your prideful smile is reflected in the face of everyone in the audience. The crowds acceptance is contagious and you can’t smile wide enough.  

Another successful seminar completed. With every one you host around the state, your happiness grows, knowing that your words are having an impact. Your message is spreading like wildfire, but instead of burning everything in its path, empowerment blooms instead.  

The sound of applause is loud in your ears— thunderous and overwhelming, yet you find yourself not wanting to run from it. It brings you to tears, joyful ones that you have trouble holding back until you feel your assistant’s hand on the small of your back. 

“I have someone in your dressing room requesting a moment of your time,” she mutters softly into your ear.

You turn a little, trying to keep the smile on your face from dropping. You’re deeply grateful for every single person who shows up to these events, and you do your best to meet with as many of them as you can, but as you're booked for another talk that starts in less than an hour and two towns over, your time is stretched thin.

“I can’t, Allison,” you tell her gently. “We have to leave in ten minutes.” 

The other woman glances at her watch awkwardly before looking back at you, unease pulling at her features.

“Please pass on my apologies, but-” you begin, but Allison quickly interrupts.

“I’m sorry, but they told me they have to meet with you, and they won’t take no for an answer.” 

The message riles you up, instantly setting your nerves on edge. Isn’t that what these talks are about, setting boundaries, saying no? If whoever this person is knows the reason for you being in Brooklyn perhaps they should have chosen a better time and location for an impromptu meeting. Yet you find yourself, reluctantly, agreeing, just to keep the peace

-

You walk the short distance to your dressing room, determination and a shred of annoyance propelling you towards your mystery guest. You feel guilty for being irritated and you don’t understand why. Allison hurries along behind you, quickly answering your questions as you fire them at her over her shoulder. 

Did they give you a name?

Did they tell you what they want?

She tells you very little, unable to give you the answers you seek. All you know as you approach the door is that a man stands on the other side, waiting for you, his intention unclear. 

For a brief moment, you’re afraid it’s the damn movie producers again— determined to break you, whittle down your resolve into agreeing to turn your experience into a dramatization with very little fact. Something to twist the narrative and essentially make you the villain.

Bidding Allison your thanks at the door, you enter slowly, peeking around it. Your eyes land on a Herculean-sized figure— all broad shoulders and rippling muscles— and suddenly all of your previous fears rush from you like a waterfall. You know this figure, even from behind. 

“Steve?” Your voice is intentionally quiet because even though you’re sure it’s him, there’s still a part of you that questions your memory. 

He spins on the spot, lips split into a giant smile as he takes you in like you’re the first person of the opposite sex he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he replies with a heavy sigh. He steps towards you, arms outstretched as he envelopes you in a tight hug. It’s hard but warm. Comforting in a way you had forgotten exists. His smell reminds you of the past, but instead of allowing it to trigger unwanted memories, you inhale deeply— telling yourself that you’re better than being a victim, what happened to you doesn’t define who you are.

It’s what you preach to your audiences day in day out. 

Don’t let yourself become a victim.

“You’re a hard woman to pin down,” he smiles wide.

“Sure am now that I’m no longer stuck behind a desk,” you return with a little jest.

He gives you another of his best All American grins. All white and perfectly straight teeth. “I still walk past it daily. It’s not the same without you there.” 

You return his smile with ease, unsure of how to respond. Instead, you turn out, “What can I do for you?”

Steve shrugs. “Ah, well I thought that seeing as you’re in my hometown, we could go out for dinner? Haven’t seen you in a long time.” 

“Can’t say I wanna stay here longer than I’m needed to these days.” The reason lingers in the room, unspoken. Not since it happened. Steve flashes you a sympathetic look and that inexplicable sense of guilt returns. “But one dinner with the Captain can’t hurt.”

-

Hours pass by in a blur of decadent food and conversation. You’re ready to head back to the hotel when you leave the restaurant, but Steve doesn’t want to end the night so soon, insisting you join him back at his apartment for one last drink. Neither of you know how long it will be before you cross paths again and though he probably doesn’t mean to, he makes you feel a little guilty that it’s been so long. 

The kindness in his eyes stops you from saying no. 

You barely check your phone all night— too caught up in conversation and recounting lost memories, until Steve excuses himself to go to the bathroom. During the time alone, you find yourself mindlessly checking it while you wait for him to come back. Your screen is flooded with notifications— the usual messages from Allison, “just checking in x,” along with tweets and mentions praising your seminar.

But one particular tweet, “Cap looks absolutely ready to murder someone,” catches your eye, and before you know it, you’re clicking the link, your curiosity piqued, wondering what on Earth it can be about. 

Though he often neutralizes bad guys, he’s rarely called a murderer. Steve and murder don’t go into the same sentence often, if ever.

You stare down at the video that begins to play— catching sight of yourself talking animatedly on stage, your hands flying around in all directions. Your hair looks a little neater and the flowing dress you’re still wearing is a little less creased than it is now after a whole day rushing around Brooklyn. 

“There are times when I do miss working at S.H.I.E.L.D, yes,” you listen to yourself admit through the speakers of your phone. “If only for the friendships I made and unfortunately lost. But I know now that that wasn’t where I was meant to be, so I guess I should be thanking him.” Your scoffs bring you back to the moment, and you finally look up, realising Steve has returned to sit beside you.

The audience on the video laughs, but there’s an awkwardness to it. Like they shouldn’t find your experience funny, but because you’re making it so, they feel like they have permission to do the same. Giving Steve a cursory glance, you don’t miss the way his face drops at your poor joke and immediately you feel guilty. 

Guilty? For trying to make light of your past? Trying not to let it represent you? 

You swallow hard. You’ve skirted around the issue all evening, not wanting to dampen the fun you’ve been having. It feels ridiculous when you think about it— being so reluctant to bring up your experience with him when you find it so easy to be candid with strangers in regards to it. 

Maybe it’s because of that very reason. They’re strangers. They didn’t witness you leave with the man who assaulted you. They didn’t help to get him arrested and convicted for his crime. 

Steve did. Steve is closer to the harsh details of that night than anyone— apart from you. And your rapist. 

Another question quickly pulls your attention back down to the screen.

“You’d really do that?” 

“I get to see more of the world than I did before, so,” you watch yourself shrug as someone else pipes up. 

“If you came face to face with your attacker now, what would you say to him?” 

The video pans to the back of the room— a quick blur of color as it passes by the audience, and focuses on Steve standing by the door. You almost recoil in shock at the sight of him, not realising he had been there at the time. Still watching, you look at on-screen Steve as he stares down at the floor, listening to you speak.

It surprises even you how quickly you don’t hesitate. “I hated you for so long, but now I just pity you for being such a coward.”

Steve’s eyes flicker up at that moment, his jaw taut in fury. 

The clip ends and you look towards him, eyes inexplicably full of tears. 

“You look so angry,” you observe quietly. 

“I was,” he pauses, seemingly like he’s trying to calm himself down. “I loathe being called a coward,” he finally says. His tone seems off suddenly. Like he’s annoyed somehow at you.

“Pardon?” Your brow furrows in confusion, the uncomfortable silence lingers for a moment, baffled by Steve’s change in attitude. He’s not making any sense. Nor does he elaborate.

“Your parents must be so proud of you,” he adds tersely. 

It’s a strange statement. One that immediately sends a wave of ice through your body. You take another sip of your drink, licking a drop from your lip, and they tingle as if going numb. You haven’t drunk that much. 

“Yes, I suppose they are,” you affirm, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “In a roundabout sort of way.” 

“Strange thing to be proud of,” he smirks, huffing out a puff of air through his nose. “Their little girl famous just for getting her legs spread.”

You stare at Steve, the words swirling around in your brain, not making any sense. Maybe you have had too much to drink. But did he just- 

“Ex-excuse me?” you manage to stutter out.

“C’mon, you did look pretty slutty for a work party,” he says, rising to his feet. “That tiny little dress you were wearing was practically inviting us all to fuck you.”

You sit aghast, too revulsed to move from your seat. 

“No wonder we thought you wanted it. Especially when you let Mike take you home.” Steve shakes his head. 

“I- didn’t,” you try to defend. 

He tuts in disgust. “I saw it, sweetheart. Saw him climb into that cab with you. Saw how much you were all over him.”

“N-no, that’s not true.”

“But of course, when you realised that he would tell everyone what a little whore you are, you just had to cry rape, didn’t you?” 

Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you protest, “Wh-why are you saying this?”

He slowly moves closer, bending over in front of you until his face is inches from yours. “Because it’s the truth.” 

You shake your head furiously. Your head fuzzy with the turn of events. “It-it’s not.”

“You believed what I told you,” he says, matter of fact. “You were unconscious, how do you really know that it was Mike that fucked you?”

The fact he uses the term fucked instead of raped makes your stomach roll with nausea. Fucked would imply you had given consent. 

“But you-you saw us,” you stumble out. 

Steve laughs bemused, like this is all a joke to him. “Mike did take you home that night, he did put you to bed, but he didn’t fuck you.” 

There it is again. Fuck. Not rape. 

You think you’re going to be sick as one solitary question crosses your mind. If Mike didn’t attack you, then who did? Another thought hurriedly strays past, replacing the first. What if Steve is covering for the real person responsible? 

He straightens up, hand reaching out to cup your jaw. With gentle coercion, he lifts your chin, smiling down at you when you finally make eye contact. His usual warm sapphire gaze is cold. Hard like ice. 

“Y’know, you should be grateful. I’m the one who made you famous.”

The revelation hits you like a freight train and everything suddenly seems to make sense. 

He doesn’t need to say it out loud. 

He’s not covering for anybody but himself. 

Abject horror fills you at the frightening realization that there’s an innocent man rotting in prison because of Steve. Mike did nothing except make sure you got home safe, and Steve took advantage of that opportunity to frame him for his own heinous crime. The perfect crime.

You’re frozen in place, too afraid to move as he smears his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“All those rousing speeches you make, all those uplifting messages for your fans, and you’ve got nothing for me, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you manage to spit out with venom. 

Steve’s demeanour sours in an instant. His smile drops into a foul grimace, full of contempt and hatred. His hold on your chin tightens and tightens until you can feel the bones in your jaw protesting beneath the weight of his grip. Just this action alone is enough to make you realise that with one small twitch of his hand, he can easily break you.

His breath is hot on your cheek as he leans down, hissing in your face, “You should be fuckin’ thankin’ me.” 

He snaps, grabbing you around the waist and hoists you off the chair in one fluid motion. You kick and hit out as he lifts you into the air, dumping you onto his shoulder like you weigh absolutely nothing.  

You scream and yell, but Steve makes no attempt to silence you as he carries you into his bedroom. He throws you down onto the bed, quickly covering your body with his as you continue to hit him, but they just bounce off his biceps and chest without even so much as a flinch. 

“Stop, please,” you beg when he roughly pushes up your dress. The plea falls on deaf ears, Steve already working open his pants as he tears your underwear in two. 

He stares between your spread legs as he lines himself up to your opening— his cockhead hot and sticky against your pussy lips. Steve’s eyes flicker to you, watching your mouth drop open and your eyes squeeze shut as he sinks into you, the sheer girth of him punching all the air from your lungs. He doesn’t fit past the first inch. 

“C’mon, let me in,” he breathes above you, stroking his thumb over your clit. A whine escapes from your throat and he manages another inch— just. 

“It’s a shame you don’t remember anything from before. My fault, I guess, gave you too much ketamine,” Steve shrugs nonchalantly. “But I spent hours worshiping you,” he softly adds. “Eating out your delicious cunt, making you come all over my tongue.”

He pulls out, and you let go of the breath you don’t realise you’ve been holding in. He shimmies down the bed, face level with your pussy and looks up at you once more. His tongue darts out just as you lift your leg to knee him in the head, but Steve’s faster. He licks up your sex and all of your motor functions cease to work. Your leg falls to the bed useless, and he curls his arms around your thighs, pinning you in place. 

Steve gets to work, licking and kissing his way up and down your sex while you lay beneath him— body reacting to every precise touch as your mind revolts at the sensation. He slides in a finger, then two— both perfectly crooked inside you as his tongue flicks over your clit and you’re coming whether you like it or not. 

You’re still trembling when he climbs up, smoothing his cock through your soaked lips. Steve doesn’t miss the way your entire body jolts when he rubs it across your clit, and he grins down at you with a smile that used to make you feel safe. 

Now it just terrifies you. 

“See, your body remembers me, even if you don’t,” he cajoles, teasing his cock against the entrance to your cunt. “And I think she’s wet enough that I can just slide straight in.” 

Steve drives his hips forward. He pops inside you with no resistance, easing into you inch by inch until you can feel him heavy and swollen in your gut. 

Your back arches, and your hips cant towards him, forcing him deeper. 

“That’s it,” he praises, wrapping his hands around your hips to keep you impaled on his cock. “Look at you takin’ me nice and deep.”

He pulls out slowly, but he’s even slower sliding back inside you. His eyes don’t leave yours, watching the way your face contorts and shifts as he fills you up.

“I didn’t get to enjoy this look of pleasure on your face last time, now at least I get to savour it.”

He starts to fuck you— rapidly building to a pace that has you sinking into the mattress with each deep thrust. It’s not meant to be pleasurable, but the pain slowly fizzles away until all you can feel is heat.

The coil in your gut tightens— aching, straining to snap and you try to block out the sensation. It does nothing and you come around Steve like you actually want it, body jolting and tensing as ripples of ecstasy possess you.

You try to block out his staccato praise and heavy moans, but the more you attempt to focus elsewhere— the less you’re able. The sounds Steve makes, the touches of his fingers on your skin, the feel of his cock brutalizing you— it’s a horrible, pornographic concoction that you can’t escape and the inevitable sobs come.

Tears run into your hairline and pool in your ears as Steve claims you over and over— one deep, guttural thrust at a time. Disgust hurriedly replaces the dull pleasure still swirling in your gut, violation thick as all you can do is take everything he gives you.

You recovered from the trauma before, able to move on, evolve into the person you are now. Stronger for your experience. But as you stare up into the eyes of your true nightmare, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to overcome it a second time.

***

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[rainydayfix]

Take One

pairing: Nomad! Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Nomad!Steve Rogers fulfills his sex worker partner’s wishes until he can’t take it anymore.

warnings: 18+ content (MINORS DNI!!!), smut, lots of fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex

word count: 3.2k

Notes: Please do not copy, steal, etc. My ask box is currently open if you want to send fic ideas / imagines / etc.

Snippet: It was a miracle any thoughts ran through your mind but you couldn’t help but wonder how his hands – that had been through so much war, endured so many scars and callouses from fighting - could bring out something so heavenly from you. Maybe it was the fact that his hands hand been used to defend and protect so unabashedly that made them capable of showing an equal amount of devotion.

“I thought about what you asked for,” you said, resting your head on Steve’s chest as you settled in for the night. “And, I want you to finger me.”

“I always finger you,” he joked, lightly tickling you at your sides.

“No, I want you to only finger me,” you repeated. “Over and over again.”

You and Steve talked about fantasies you wanted to share. You both moaned between the sheets when you were in a race to hit that space where nothing else existed but each other. But, when he first asked if he could help you out on camera, because that was one of his fantasies, it was still a bit of a shock – leaving you a couple of days to digest, to ponder, to re-ponder, to really think about what you could ask him to do.

As your first video together, you finally settled one idea: him fingering you relentlessly. It was genuinely a fantasy of yours. You knew your body and what you liked, and always found it exciting to see your partner discover it too. And it was a blessing that Steve didn’t rest on his stamina from the serum to do all the work.

“Why only fingering?” he questioned softly. “Why not more?”

“You know why?” you answered, trying to tiptoe around one of the reasons you only wanted fingering. Truth be told it was that you weren’t ready to do a full length video with him yet. Your stream had a good fifteen videos on it so far. Thousands of followers who loved seeing your curves, seeing you naked, seeing you come. But your sex work always came with a caveat making partners turned on before becoming jealous and distrusting, or being distrusting from the start and making you feel cheap.

That was just men who were regular Joe assholes. This was Steve Rogers. Retired Captain America. Now Nomad. He stayed in the shadows. Popping up online, no matter how many creative angles you could try, someone would figure it out. Who you were. Who he was with. Where you were. Then come the headlines. The jokes. The invasion of privacy. You hoped deep down making a video out in the open with Steve wouldn’t change things, but you knew it would. “Not even you can hide underneath all this,” you finished, gingerly teasing his full beard.

A small groan seemed to be his only response. You could feel his pensiveness clench his muscles.

“I just - “ you started, before turning in his arms to face him. “I want us to be us for as long as we possibly can. And, blasting America’s ass on the internet will have the vultures coming around in a heartbeat.”

That made him break out into a small smile at least. You couldn’t help but lay next to him in silence as your fingers caressed his face – the deepened wrinkles on his forehead, the laugh lines, the freckles. Blinking up at the ceiling, deep in thought, he turned his face towards yours and gently took your hand into his. He brought it to his lips, taking his time to plant soft kisses along your fingers.

“When do we start?”

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

You know Steve asked if he could help. But you couldn’t find it to answer him with your actual voice. He ended up sitting on the bench at the end of the bed - with that ever-cool patience and calm he possessed. Positioning everything just right seemed to be the only thing to settle your nerves. It wasn’t like you were new to this. You set up the equipment a couple of dozen times before – sometimes for videos to post, sometimes with videos that didn’t make the cut. You set your phone set high on the tripod over the bed in the exact angle that would show your breasts down to your feet, if you poised your legs up right. You made sure the lighting was right – with soft lamps centered on your vanity and at your bedside.

As you slowly ran out of things to do, you started to realize you only started the channel with one person in mind – yourself. But now there was someone else you wanted your videos to mean something for – Steve.

“I’m gonna put the final touches together,” you said softly, giving the tiniest curtsy when his hand reached out for yours. He pulled you between this legs. How could a 240 lb superhero seem so small in your arms yet take up your entire world?

“This won’t change anything, this is just for us,” he reminded, running his hands over your hips and reaching his head up to nestle his lips between sternum. Your hands ran through his thick hair, gently bringing his face up. “I know,” you smiled down at him, taking his hands in yours before letting him go. “I’ll only be a minute.”

One minute turned into more than a couple of minutes as you changed your outfit. Steve honestly doesn’t need much to get going, but your “branding” wasn’t exactly in mind when you picked out the lingerie. From a technical point of view, you wanted something that showed enough skin from your breasts to your hips as the camera’s angle pointed downwards away from your face. For yourself, you wanted something that was simple but special – nothing said that better than see-through black and lace. Your hands ran over the delicate floral pattern as it shaped your taut waist, and the stockings that were lightly attached to the garter and underwear. After putting on the finishing touches of light make-up, you looked yourself over once more in the mirror before opening the bathroom door.

All of the equipment stayed exactly the same, but you weren’t the only one that had changed. A small array of candles were lit alongside the drawers across the room. The softest low-fi music played from the stereo. And, Steve stood next to the bed having changed into a long black shirt and pants, matching exactly what you wore. His eyes bore into you with an intensity that paled into comparison to the soft romantic set-up around you.

“Are you sure you just want my hands?” he asked, his voice deep and almost raw. He inhaled sharp but slowly, looking you over as his hands seemed to unconsciously rub together.

“For right now, yes,” you said – it was taking everything in you to not just shove the shoot aside and just let you fuck for the hell of it. There was so much about his body that you loved, and somehow restricting yourself to only his hands made you want him even more. The part of you that pushed you to save it for the video, caused you to turn away from him slowly before handing him the remote control and slowly crawling up the bed, trying to give him as much of a show as possible.

Once you settled onto your back, you reminded yourself to breathe as you could see Steve in your peripheral check the angle of your placement on the bed with the lens and press record. You forced your eyes to stay peeled on the ceiling, knowing that if you looked at him too soon you might call the whole thing off. It seemed like forever before his weight sunk on the bed next to you, his presence becoming a safe haven and a master in control.

When he was fully settled next to you, resting his weight on his arm, he whispered, “it’s just us.” His lips planted softly against yours, you immediately felt it start to leave you breathless and wanting more. Carefully, he left a trail of wetness as his tongue and lips ran down your neck, as his hand traveled over the rim of fabric covering your breasts and towards your stomach. Your breathing steadily grew heavily, when you felt his nails dig into your hips before gliding across your lower stomach and under your underwear.

You were careful to not shuffle too much, not wanting the position of your body to skew out of view. You also didn’t want to seem too over-eager as you peeled the underwear lower. A small smirk lifted from Steve’s mouth as he discovered you were already wet. One of his fingers dipped lowly, lightly skimming your outer lips before delving further. He didn’t seem to be in a rush and it was killing you. You couldn’t help but let out a deep breath as he added another finger, just playing with the power his touch had on you. He took you licking your lips as an invitation as he brought his fingers to your mouth, letting your head bob against them for a few seconds before he placed them back where they belonged.

He started with his digits pushing between your lips to your core, not wasting any more time, causing you to sigh heavily. It was exactly what you wanted. His motions mostly focused on dipping in and out of you, experimenting with the pace of rough and slow. When his fingers hit your inner lips in the perfect way, he alternated to hitting your core. Just like his cock that fit inside you perfectly, Steve knew the right amount of thickness and how to curve his fingers to create the same tight fit. You thought you were close to hitting your first orgasm, when he switched up the position, pushing his middle and ring finger deep inside you, and letting his other fingers pad against your inner walls. Your moan filled the room as your hand dipped low to hold yourself open a little more for his palm to slightly tap against you.

“Fuck, just like that, almost there” you gasped, as you felt your wetness coat not only his hand but slip down between your thighs underneath you. The concentration on Steve’s face, the way his eyes invited you to come all over his hand, pushed you over the edge as your moan was caught in his lips on yours, your tongues thrashing against each other. The first wave washed over you, as he finally let you up for air, and his fingers slowly returned to the caressing he had started with just minutes ago.

You didn’t expect the initial orgasm to take so much out of you, your eyes falling shut a little too quickly for your taste as well as Steve’s. You felt his hand gradually leaving you feeling empty, and the weight of him next to you lightening a bit. When he returned a second later, you felt something soft and plastic roll across your collarbone, and over the rim of your brassiere. Your eyes shot open, when you felt the odd object pulse against one of your nipples and over to the other. You caught the hot pink device looking small in Steve’s massive hand – your vibrator. The one you used in the video that Steve said was his favorite. That bastard.

His heavy breath brushed against your ear. “You can’t quit on me now. I’m just getting started, honey,” he instructed, in a gruff tone you’d never heard before he nipped your lobe between his teeth. He turned the device on and off again as he made sure to let it sail smoothly over breasts and across your stomach, just close enough for you to feel it pulsate through the lingerie. Once the vibrator made it towards your heat, you opened your legs further for him, letting him know how ready you were for him to give it to you.

This time he wasn’t waiting to take it slow and steady like he did before. This time he turned on the vibrator to the first setting for a few brief seconds, and then the second – the one that usually made you come within minutes. The only problem was that he held it right between your clit and lips – not letting you do anything to give him permission to go further or deeper. He was within the reason of pressing the vibrator right where you need it and perfect distance of making you yearn for his touch.

“Oh god, baby, please,” you cried out, and was silenced immediately, as he plunged the vibrator into you. Steve didn’t mess around with the pressure of the touch; he just let it pulse against your folds. It felt like an endless divine tease. Seconds gave way to minutes. Minutes felt like it gave way to eternity. You felt like you were heaven without actually crossing over the through the gates. You looked over at Steve with hooded eyes, wondering how much this man could possibly know exactly what you wanted without saying words, as the coil within you began to tighten and tauntingly refuse to unravel.

Gradually, the arm that was resting near your head slipped under your neck, lifting your face upwards. Knowing he wanted you to watch what he was doing, you helped by slightly lifting yourself up onto your elbows, prompting your eyes to roll back into your head before refocusing on the full view of his hand thrusting between your legs– the black of his shirt wrapped towards his elbow, and your lingerie, contrasted with the hot pink glimpses of the vibrator. It was a miracle any thoughts ran through your mind but you couldn’t help but wonder how his hands – that had been through so much war, endured so many scars and callouses from fighting, could bring out something so heavenly from you. Maybe it was the fact that his hands hand been used to defend and protect so unabashedly that made them capable of showing an equal amount of devotion.

Steve’s body tilted towards you closer, you could feel his cock through his pants on your side. “I wish it was your cock inside me so bad,” you whined, as he suddenly dropped the vibrator and replaced it with his hand, practically fisting you. Your focus stayed on the continuous pounding of his hand that matched the throbbing of the vibrator and thensome for as long as you could. You never wanted it to stop, and Steve almost made you feel like it was never going to. Your one hand gripped the sheet underneath, while the other wrestled to reach for Steve’s arm as your head bowed backwards, as your body finally let go, and you released a high pitched squeal. Steve slowly lowered your head back against the bed, kissing away some of the tears that had freed themselves from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks, as everything in you crossed the finishing line. You could of sworn you heard him mumble ‘good girl’ before asking if you were all right, making you nod in response as your hands reached up to run through his hair and wrap around his arms.

You laid there for several moments, letting him hold you, caress you, plant kisses everywhere. You didn’t know if this was the end of your recording. You weren’t sure if you had another round in you. You weren’t sure if two times would be enough to follow with what you had on your stream already. You just wanted to rest with Steve, as much as it seemed like he just wanted to rest alongside you. He brought his hand up long enough for you to see him run it along his lips, coating his palm in his spit before dipping it inside you. You guessed he wasn’t done with you just yet as his hand splayed itself against your core– his middle finger found its home deep inside you while the rest of his palm rested on your inner and outer lips.

When his mouth started to trail down towards your collarbone, and towards your breasts, you helped him nuzzle your corset as low as it could, just letting your nipples peak out from the top, enough for him to paying attention to one, and then the other. His mouth grappled your breasts, back and forth, before he settled on one while his hands picked up the pace of strokes. It had been a long time before you felt an orgasm building from more focused attention on your delicate folds. But the ease with his hand swiping at you and the way his mouth enfolded around one of your nipples pushed your body to accept that he was building that eden in you again.

The slight slits in Steve’s palm seemed to ever so gently and rapidly rap against your opening, testing the limit if you could come against his motions. Gradually, your moans – the only sound in the room – was mixed with his own. One deep groan, one you’d never heard before surprised you, of ‘fuck it’ – signaled a swift change that took your breath away. Steve’s mouth left your breasts, his hand left your core, as he moved over you. Everything happened so fast – you helping Steve fling his shirt over your head and his pants down around his ass, a loud thud mixing with the pillow above your head getting roughly tossed to the side of the bed, and Steve filling you up with his cock. His arms snaked above you, as his weight practically pinned you to the bed. You reached down towards your ass and moved the flesh away to hold your thighs open for him more. In a matter of milliseconds, he was animalistically fucking away all of the tension that had been building up between the two of you. The mix of of his hands padding away sensitively at your core, and then every inch of you getting railed, was almost too much to bare. You actually surprised Steve lasted as long as he did before taking matters literally into his own hands. Both of your moans echoed in the room as his thrusts grew messier and faster as you hit another high, and he hit his first, feeling him empty his essence inside you. Once the pace of his thrust sfinally began to smooth over and stop altogether, you laid underneath him, your arms wrapped underneath his above your head.

“That was….” Steve began to say before, his words tapered off. All you could do was nod. His hand started to nuzzle the side of your neck, the coarseness of his beard brushing against your face as your lolled your head to the side.

“….only the beginning,” you finished his sentence before his head whipped up and in the direction yours was facing. Your phone had been knocked to the ground along with the tripod, lying next to the pillow Steve had tossed around aside. The realization drew a laugh from both of you. You were sure there was enough material you and Steve would be happy to post if you had to cut out the grand finale. There was no need for words or apologies, not being entirely sure if the phone had been damaged from the fall...the only thing you could do was reconsider what you could plan for take two.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

I'm Only Good At Being Bad (SinsDC)

I'm Only Good At Being Bad:

Steve Rogers x POC!Reader “Nyx”

Summary:

Seduction is an art form.

Warnings:

18+ Only MDNI, Smut, PWP, Lap Dance, Pussy Job, Unprotected Sex

Notes:

The music set to this session is “Bad Guy” by Billie Eilish. Give it a listen to get into the mood. Happy Reading Heathens  😈

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Banner by @cafekitsune

As Steve had requested to have his session in one of the private entertainment rooms, you are already in place, perched on a small stage, when he arrives. 

He cuts an imposing figure standing in the doorway. Even dressed down in a simple t-shirt and jeans. 

“Have a seat Captain. The show is about to begin.”

He takes his time before he makes his way over to the plush, velvet couch. Taking in the sheer leopard print mesh strappy teddy complete with garters and stockings you wore just for him. Looking every bit the empowered sex worker turned Pin Up of his dreams.

The atmosphere thickens with a palpable tension.

With a sly smile, you begin to dance. Your body moving like liquid silk. Each fluid movement foretelling a story of desire and confidence as you undulate your hips and draw Steven deeper into your spell. 

The world outside fades away. Leaving only the two of you in this seemingly enchanted place. 

Your performance is both playful and tantalizing. Inviting him to surrender to the magic of the night. In this room, where time stood still, the boundaries of reality blurred. Leaving behind only the fiery connection ignited by your shared experience.

Steve watches as the lights play along your skin. Illuminating you like art on display as you swivel and sway. All feminine and sweet with a dark edge. 

He can't take his eyes off of you. Their lovely ocean hue now but a sliver, as it is overtaken by the dilation of his lust filled pupils.   

“I find it fascinating how enthralled you are with me.” You break the silence. “You thrive on control and doing the right thing. While I skate the line of morality on the daily. Is it the taboo of my blood stained hands that does it for you?”

“No.” He calmly states. “It’s the conviction in which you follow through. Regardless of the outcome. We’re more alike than you may think. Your brand of justice is far harsher than mine. While I try to protect the many. You devote yourself to the individual. I envy that ease of conviction.”

His honesty makes you pause as you share a look.

“Shit. I fucked up the moment didnt I? Me and my big fucking mouth. I told Buck I wasn’t great at this on my own. You get me all flustered and I either say or do something to fuck it all up.”

You smile as he rambles on. Stepping off the stage you cross the small room to stand between his parted thighs. Bending forward and placing a finger to his lips.

“Shh.” When he closes his mouth you proceed to crawl into his lap. “You are far more nervous than a man who can pull orgasms out of me like it's his job, should be. I find your shyness, though rare for the public to see, very attractive. You don’t always have to be Captain America when we’re together. Although I really like that assertive asshole too. He knows how to have a bloody good time.”

Steve quirks his brow at your remark.

“All I’m saying is, forget all that other BS. Sit back, relax and let me handle the rest. Only do what you naturally feel inclined to. This isn't a performance for the masses. It’s just me and you.”

You lean down and press your lips to his. Enjoying their pillow softness as he deepens the embrace. A pleased growl emanating from his chest. The vibrations dancing along your torso.

Running your hands down his firm chest you stop at the waistband of his blue jeans. Eyeing the large bulge fighting against his zipper.

“May I?”

“Yes, please. It is your fault after all.”

You don’t break eye contact as you undo his button and slide his zipper down. With a firm grip you reach inside and aid his generous appendage in its release.

It lands on his abs. Tip red and leaking already.

With your hands on his broad shoulders, you scoot yourself forward. Nestling the steel rod encased in velvety soft skin between the damp mesh of your teddy and his pelvis. You give a cursory roll of your hips. Earning you a hand gripped around your waist as shock jolts up your spine.

You continue grinding down on him. Losing yourself in the friction induced pleasure. As Steve pulls down the cups of your teddy and feasts on your breasts. Sucking, biting and teasing the supple flesh until you’re a whimpering mess in his lap.

Sliding his right hand up your torso, he settles it around the base of your throat. Eyes full of hunger, he pulls you in for a deep kiss. It’s like a drug to your system. Highly addictive with its power to rend your restless mind silent.

As you pull away from the kiss you take a moment separate from his body. If just for a minute so that you can recalibrate your brain.

You get to your feet. Turning around with a flourish and making a show of bending over. With an arch in your spine, you settle back into his lap. Rubbing your ass against his cock as you lean your back against his chest.

You pull your legs up high into the air. Giving them a fancy burlesque twirl before setting them on either side of his man spread thighs.  

Only the sound of heaving chests can be heard. As if uttering a word right now would break the magic that is taking place.

You pull the gusset of your teddy to the side as you reach between your legs and grip Steve’s base. With a quiet inhale you sink down onto his glorious cock. Gasping at the stretch and humming in satisfaction as you take him all in one go.

He hisses at the sudden warmth of your silkend walls cocooning his length.

Reaching back, you slide your fingers into his longer hair and lightly tug as you begin to ride him. Writhing in his lap as he pinches your nipples and bites down on your shoulder. Pressing kisses to your skin to soothe the sting. 

His hand makes its way back around to grip your throat. 

“Be a good girl for me, doll face and stay still.” 

He sinks lower down the couch. Ass practically falling off the edge, as he starts pounding up into you at a dizzying pace. Keeping you in place with his hand still protectively around your throat.

“So pretty”

Pump.

“So deadly.”

Pump. Pump.

“Yet she turns into a whimpering mess when I have her wrapped around my cock.”

Pump. Pump. Pump.

“Mmmm. This pussy is top notch. Grade A perfection.”

Your walls squeeze around him at the praise. Traveling down the fast lane to climax as you have given over control.

“You love to be praised. Love knowing you're my good girl don't you?”

You whine and fervently nod your head yes.

“Then you better show me just how good of a girl you can be and come for me.”

Pump.

“Right.”

Pump.

“Now.”

That’s it. That’s all the direction you needed to let go and come with a silent scream. Pussy clamping down on Steve like a vice. Bringing him right to the edge of his own control.

“Get on your knees. Gonna turn that pretty face into a work of art.”

You scramble off his lap on shaky legs and practically fall to your knees. Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue just in time to catch the first ropes of his cum as he strokes himself. Painting your face with his devotion until he is spent.

Pulling his phone out, he snaps a quick picture to admire later.

“So perfect.”

“Stop, you're gonna give a girl a complex.”

“Too late for that.”

You slap his thigh.

“Alright asshole. Either help me clean up the mess you’ve made of my face or go back down to the club. I have a very demanding demigod to get ready for.”

“I’ll just distract you and get you all dirty again. So I am going to do the wise thing and head back downstairs. But first.”

He scoops some of his cum off of your cheek with his finger and places it in front of your mouth. Before he can get a word out your lips are wrapped around the thick digit. Savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

He groans as he pulls free of your mouth. “Fucking temptress.”

“I prefer Lady Of The Night.” You retort with a wink. Spinning him around towards the door, you reach around, tuck his cock back in his jeans and pull up his zipper. Sending him on his way with a smack to the ass.

He just shakes his head with a chuckle. Blowing you a kiss as he makes his way out.

[disasterofastory]

The pretty little actress of Rogers - Part 6 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

The pretty little actress of Rogers Part 6 - Plans // The pretty little actress of Rogers Masterlist Steve Rogers x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: none

Summary: After a weekend with your husband, you plan the next with Steve.

The weekend you promised to spend with your husband comes quickly. Your week goes by with rehearsals and texting with Steve while Kent is busy with his own life too. You know his job is demanding since he is the new guy, but you are sure it's not the only reason he hangs on his phone every minute. However, it doesn't hurt you so much anymore. And this makes you worried. You get further and further away from each other, but you don't feel so panicked and saddened anymore. He wanted this, you remind yourself. It's on him.

Maybe these things are the reasons you feel awkward when he invites you out for breakfast. The city is already busy, and you have to search for a place to eat with a free table. "And how was your week?" Kent asks after biting into his sandwich. "Busy," you reply. "The theater…" "A new show?" "Yes," you nod. "I really like my character, though." "You always do," he smiles. "Maybe I could go and see it." "That would be good," you lie. Your smile is tight and forced. The thought of your husband and Steve in the same place disturbs you. How would they react? What would you do? To avoid saying anything more, you take a bite from your own breakfast before sipping from your coffee. "And how is your work?" Fortunately, your question is enough to change the topic. Kent tells you everything about an upcoming project. "If it goes right, they may promote me." "That would be amazing," you congratulate. "I'm really happy for you." "Thank you," Kent nods. "I'm really grateful you agreed to move." "Yeah," you hum, not sure what else to say. A sour taste spreads across your tongue. Since he gave you an ultimatum, you didn't really have much choice. You either move with him or get a divorce. "Do you want to go somewhere?" He asks. "And we could watch movies at home like old times." "We could take a walk in the park on our way home," you suggest.

Both of you feel like walking on eggshells around each other. After your jobs, you talk about politics, news, and movies even though the elephant is in the room again. It's huge and unavoidable. "So," he clears his throat. "What about dating?" "It's… it's good," you reply. "You were right. We needed to experience more things." You feel horrible because of it, but lazing on the couch and watching TV make you disappointed. After years of doing nothing, you wish for more. "And did you…you know…" "No," you shake your head. "But I guess you did…" "Yes," he admits. "And who is the guy?" You don't want to tell him Steve's name. "Just a guy. And your… co-worker?" "She is… good. Just a woman." "Yeah," you nod, leaning back on the couch. Just a guy. Just a woman. Which one of you is lying? You don't know. "Be honest with me, Kent, did you have sex with her before our agreement?" You dare to ask. Eyes on the TV. "No." You don't know if you can believe him. "But she was the reason for all of this," you state. Silence. "Yes." His admission doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. "Are you mad?" He asks after a while when you say nothing. "Not anymore." You are honest. "As I said, you were right. We needed something… else. Something new."

-

"I won't be home next weekend," Kent says on Sunday. The sun barely left the horizon. The street lamps are already on. Their warm lights filter into the flat in long patterns. "Where are you going?" You ask, surprised. He doesn't answer immediately. "I… me and…" "Oh," you nod, looking down at your hands. "I see." You really hope it wasn't the only reason he wanted to spend the weekend with you. A weak consolation before he takes the other woman away for a weekend. Because the other woman deserves it. A weekend away from the city. But you? The couch and the TV are enough for you. "Does it bother you?" You are not sure. "No."

-

Later that night, you sit on the couch while Kent is in the bedroom, chatting or sleeping, you don't know. Your phone is in your hand. The TV is still on for some background noise. The light of the screen illuminates the small space. Hey, you send a message to Steve. The answer comes quickly. Hey! How was your weekend? It was good. I'm free next weekend if you want to meet. My husband goes who-knows-where. Do you mean the whole weekend? He asks. Yes. So you can come over to my place? Maybe I could pick you up on Friday and take you home on Sunday. Steve suggests after a few seconds. If you are okay with it, of course. You need a few minutes to decide. The thought of you being home while your husband is away with another woman makes you feel pathetic and lonely. Okay. I'm in. As an answer, he sends you a photo of himself. He smiles at the camera while lying on his bed. One arm is under his head.

You still don't know how someone can be so handsome.

Did I scare you off? He asks when you don't react. No. Your reply before taking a picture of yourself. You are smiling too. Beautiful. I'm sure I will dream of you. Giddiness spreads across your chest as you read his message again and again. Your husband and his weekend are forgotten. I will dream of you too.

[captainsimagines]

pretty woman, this is me trying || three

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(3/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: references to past sexual abuse; strong language; references to sex; reference to past trauma

Word Count: 2,390+

Author’s Note: Steve isn’t going to be evil, I promise. Oops. xxMoni

~

    You entered through a different entrance today. One less guarded and one that didn’t full-body screen you.

You dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans with a puffy sweater to protect from the cold. Unsure of where to go after entering, you wandered around the visitor center for a few minutes.

No one looked at you funny. They had a nametag ready for you and a cup of coffee. You were treated spectacularly well by the secretaries and random agents you passed. Perhaps they didn’t know your occupation, perhaps they did. It’s hard to believe they’d act the same way with Natasha Romanoff.

Then again, Natasha Romanoff would skin them alive before an insult was even thought.

“You lost?”

Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. It was Steve fucking Rogers. Steve fucking Rogers was talking to you.

“Uh, yeah. I’m looking for Bucky Barnes.”

Something strange flashed in his eyes. You swear his chest puffed out a little more and a guard went up. “What did you want with him?”

“He invited me over today. Something about taking a walk in the park.”

“Bucky doesn’t take walks in the park.”

“Bucky could have been talking in code for all I know. But he does know I’m coming.”

Steve stepped closer, crossing his arms. “I know his codes.”

You did your best not to cower, but he was so much bigger than you. One push and you’re certain he could pop one of your main arteries. “Can’t you just call him?”

“We have a roster of all the known visitors. If your name isn’t on the list, then you’re not allowed up. So let me go check—”

“It’s alright, Rogers. I invited her. Don’t pull the shield on an innocent.”

Bucky emerged from the hallway in that famous sweater and leather jacket combination you’ve seen him wear in paparazzi photos. But since it was actively snowing outside, his hair was down. Down and wavy and freaking conditioned.

“See, Captain Rogers? I wasn’t about to blow up the building.”

Steve looked you up and down, sneering for a second before it turned into something kinder. Was this the famous Captain America? Rude and overprotective? You understand that you’re a stranger and Bucky Barnes wasn’t a person to venture out all that often, but did you look menacing? Was there some kind of sign hanging over your head that read: Evil Hooker?

Or.

Steve never mentioned you being a hooker. A sex worker, even. Nothing of the sort came out of his mouth. He actually believed you to be Bucky’s… friend.

So Tony Stark and Bucky were the only ones who knew about this deal. Well, and Pepper Potts and Maria Hill. It made this whole thing a lot more comfortable. You didn’t really want the Captain America knowing you were hired to “fuck” his friend.

“Where did you meet?”

Bucky grumbled something incoherent underneath a heavy breath, glaring at his friend as he rushed to stand next to you. Not touching, but still… protective. And that little detail made you feel ten times greater than the star-spangled man.

“We met last week. At the bakery down the road. Now if you’ll excuse us,” Bucky explained, tilting his head for you to follow him. He began walking back to the hallway he came from, not sparing another glance over a shoulder. You met Steve’s eye—his incredibly judgmental eye—and gave him a tight smile.

“Bucky usually tells me about girls,” Steve interrupted you mid-step, speaking low enough that not even the super soldier ahead of you could hear.

“I don’t know your relationship,” you reasoned.

“No,” Steve sighed, looking you up and down again. “You don’t.”

You squinted at the man, suddenly angry, but you did yourself a favor and reeled in the frightful emotion. He had a shield and super strength, but the ball forming in your stomach had every indication of barreling through those things. Being looked down upon by men did something to you. It made you vicious, and rightfully so. A sort of viciousness that turned light blue to red and urged you to claw downward.

“It was nice meeting you, Captain.”

You turned on your heel, head held high, swallowing the neanderthal rage pounding through your veins.

    Bucky really liked milking the fuck out of the heater. Your cheeks were hot and you were starting to sweat in your boots.

“Tea? Coffee?”

“You got bread?”

Bucky, looking away from you,  paused. Quite comically, you might add. He lowered the coffee pot and turned around, one eyebrow high and lips threatening to widen into a grin. “I have bread.”

“And butter?”

“I’ve got bread and butter.”

“Good, because I’m starving.”

Bucky pulled out a long roll of French bread—freshly baked—and removed the packaging. He sliced a few pieces, piling them in a small basket. Then he got some packaged butter from the fridge. Not just any butter. Those tiny packets of butter from Panera. Dozens of them.

“You’re my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky snorted, buttering a piece of bread for himself. He stood while you sat on one of the barstools, buttering your own piece as well. “All it takes is to feed you, huh?”

“Well, when I asked for bread and butter, I was expecting you to toast some wheat bread and pull out the margarine.”

“Never. This is my favorite peasant dish. Might as well have fresh ingredients.”

You covered your mouth, laughing softly. “A peasant dish, huh?”

Bucky shrugged. “My Ma used to make this. But sometimes she’d head down to the Puerto Rican stores and buy some tortillas. I’d eat them with butter and jelly.”

“Please tell me they were flour and you at least heated them up.”

“I am not as uncultured as I look.”

Now that made you grin big.

You two ate in a comfortable silence, awkward questions stored for until after your stomachs were full. In the meantime, you glanced around Bucky’s apartment. You noticed things you didn’t have the time to notice yesterday.

Small accents on the walls: drawings, picture frames, and hanging ornaments. Drawings Captain Rogers most likely drew. Pictures that only showed Bucky, Steve, and Sam. Ornaments that didn’t have Christmas accents exactly, but rather the names of each individual Avenger. Like those Avengers made the ornament themselves. It was a personalized apartment, after all. Like Bucky valued his personal space and wanted it to be comforting when he returned from a hard day of battling the bad guys.

Kind of like you.

Your apartment was full. Like, literally. Counters full of picture frames, Etsy art, sweaters strung randomly. It was homey and warm, made to be welcoming.

You wonder if Bucky feels the same: Like more will never be enough.

“We can play 20 questions! Though, it might get kind of boring unless we search up the question chart—”

“I don’t like being touched.”

You paused, mouth wrapped around a strangled syllable. Something cracked in your throat before you cleared it, the remnants of the end of a word. “Alright, straight with it. Got it.”

“I was tortured and brainwashed and abused and sexually assaulted while in Hydra custody. That’s why I’m comfortable with hiring you. You have a choice, and you give me a choice. The two go hand in hand.”

You wanted to say something. Anything. But nothing especially intelligible sprang to mind.

“And don’t apologize or tell me, ‘Damn, that sucks.’ I’ve heard enough of it throughout my two years of freedom.”

“Then I’m drawing a blank.”

His lips twitched, but he continued, “Just… Be normal with me. Just don’t touch me.”

“No touch at all? What if I have to push you out of the way of a moving car?”

He made a noise resembling a chuckle. “I’d probably survive it.”

Not even to save his life? Alright, you can work with that. This man simply wanted companionship and you were an expert in that, too. Kendall enjoyed touching your waist or holding your hand during dinner, kissing you on the cheek or hugging you for too long. But he was, first and foremost, seeking company. And since this Christmas Ball called for nothing more than your company, everything was settled.

“And don’t get me wrong,” Bucky started, looking pained as he spoke. “I want to… I just…”

“Bucky,” you said, keeping your voice soft. “Is there something else you want to ask me to—”

“I want to learn how to touch people again. For them to stand near me again. To not… panic when someone raises a hand for a fucking high-five.”

You nodded, somewhat understanding. “It’s a gradual process. Some of the girls who experienced abuse while working or by monogamous partners described it that way.”

“Do I just need to get used to it?”

You shook your head. “It’s more like… Reminding yourself that sweet touches exist, too. That casual touches are just that. Casual. That accidental touches are bound to happen.”

“Tricking my mind into it.”

“Perhaps. But then again, it won’t be a trick that far down the road. It will be real.”

Bucky grumbled, looking down at the counter. Ideas were flying around in your head. Things to get him reacting well to you being around, the smallest of jump scares, ideas for the softest touches.

But this wasn’t just any client. This was Bucky Barnes. World War Two veteran, prisoner of war, war hero, Avenger.

That was who you were trying to help.

And you had the perfect method for introduction.

“Up for a walk?” you suggested, hopping off the barstool and grabbing your purse.

Bucky stood slowly, raising an eyebrow. “To where?”

“The fun is in the surprise!”

Bucky Barnes looked you up and down, assessing, but ultimately took a chance. He followed you out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

And that alone was an achievement.

He followed you.

You would not fail him now.

~

     “Keep up with me!”

Bucky tried his best to keep the rumble of his laugh minimal. He wanted to be nice, to make this experience comfortable for you, too. But he didn’t want to seem overeager—What if you took it the wrong way? What if you expected something from him? So Bucky did his absolute best to not smile fully, to keep his laughs low, to keep his hands in his pockets.

He jogged to catch up, nearly slipping on ice. He doesn’t know how you haven’t fallen and face planted yourself. You were wearing running shoes—Bucky, and he has been chastising himself since you arrived at his front door, completely assumed you would be wearing heels. Everything he knows about sex workers is unbuttoned blouses and shoes too difficult to walk in. But then again, there are the ones who make their income on the internet.

You twirled and clapped your hands together, looking up at the sign that blinked through the layer of freshly fallen snow.

And Bucky made it a goal to google everything about sex workers in the modern age, because he feels like he should be punched in the face and spit on.

Oh.

Bad thing to think about right now. Bucky never liked when that happened to him back then.

“You want to get used to touch again? Start here!”

The Manhattan Kennel.

“Animals?”

You snorted, pulling open the door. Bucky raced to hold it open for you, internally cursing that you weren’t more careful.

“You can’t just barrel into someplace without assessing the possible threats!” Bucky whispered-screamed as close as he could to your ear. He understood that it was just a kennel… But to not search for threats ahead of you? Bucky takes it upon himself to do just that.

Two workers behind the counters, both male and in their early thirties. Surrounded by what looked like parrots and turtles—

“You think I, as a hooker, don’t look for threats?”

Bucky blinked, swallowing the embarrassing lump in his throat. You continued, “Two males, both of which look like they could carry me out easily. My purse has pepper spray and a pocket knife. I know how to break a nose with the heel of my hand. The dude on the left has a broken leg, by the way. And I’m pretty sure the one on the right is eyeing you instead of me.”

“Welcome to the Manhattan Kennel! How can we help you both find your lifelong friend?” the man on the right said, his voice a little higher-pitched than Bucky was expecting.

“Exactly,” you finished.

Bucky turned to you, hoping his equal amount of disbelief and proud astonishment were visible.

So he underestimated you. Okay. Bucky was thinking of kicking himself in the ass later, anyway.

“Do you have an area where we can sit and have the little angels run all over us?” you asked.

“Right up here,” the worker responded, as if that was a common request.

Was Bucky going to react well to this? Hell if he knows. He’s never exactly interacted with animals after his time with Hydra. They don’t incite the same amount of discomfort he usually feels when a human being stands near him. And Sam held a Veteran Dog event just last month—not that Bucky went, but he did see them being led into the compound.

But this did seem like a good idea. In theory. At least you weren’t touching him.

“We’ve got a mix of dogs this season. Big ones, little ones, fluffy mates, seniors, puppies—Was there any kind you wanted to look at?”

You turned to Bucky, your eyebrows raised sweetly and doe-eyes waiting for an answer. Were your eyes naturally that big?

“Um,” Bucky stuttered, swiping a nervous hand down the back of his neck. His metal fingers got caught in the loose strands of his hair-bun. “The seniors sound nicer.”

“Perfect!” the worker cheered, “Just make yourselves comfortable in the green playpen and I’ll have about five dogs come around right now.”

The worker exited, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky created a respectable distance, clearing his throat uncomfortably as you obviously pretended not to notice.

“Do you like dogs?” you asked.

“Never really gave it much thought.”

“Really? I like both dogs and cats. I love all animals equally. I don’t segregate.”

Bucky chuckled, wiping his bottom lip softly. “You mean, discriminate?”

“That, too.”

“Are you looking to adopt one today?” he fished, kicking an invisible pebble with his left foot. Looking down at his feet calmed him a bit.

“Don’t have the space. I’d love to adopt a tiny, little Shih Tzu, though.”

That pulled a small smile to his lips. “You look like someone who would twin with a small dog.”

“You’re not far off. I’d match Christmas sweaters and everything.”

He was in the middle of imagining you squeezing a Shih Tzu sized head through a doggy sweater when the shelter worker returned, clicking his tongue in a call to the dogs behind him. Several older dogs, white around the mouth and eyebrows, came barreling through the small gate. They ignored him at first, finding their own scents much more interesting. But they took notice the moment you fell to your knees, squealing in excitement and comments of sweet praise. Three dogs, a golden retriever and two corgis, barreled into you. Licking in eagerness, barking with elation, searching for your hands so they may pat their heads and tickle their ears. You obliged wholeheartedly, deciding to lay down and take the rushed steps to your stomach, your chest. You laughed and awed, nowhere close to stopping, in a strange and soft element.

You were on your back with weight on your chest, and you weren’t screaming in terror. You were reaching out and fluffing hair on the top of the dogs’ heads, and you weren’t breaking any fingers. Your clothes were being pulled and scratched at, but not torn off.

You were happy. Pumped with glee and spirit.

It damn near made Bucky tear up.

“You want to pet some?” the worker asked, staying by the gate. There were two other dogs drinking from the water bowls in the corner, minding their own business. The chihuahua drank and drank, while the other—a German shepherd—stared at him. The dog tilted his head, his tongue slipping out quickly to swipe at his nose. He made no move to approach Bucky. He just stared, interested, and kind.

Bucky hesitated, glancing over at you for a signal. You turned toward him, grinning from ear to ear, holding one of the corgis to your chest. You didn’t seem to mind the fuzzy butt near your neck.

“It’s up to you,” you clarified, doing your best to shrug. “But this would be a good first exercise.”

You didn’t divulge more information than needed in front of a stranger. The worker made no indication he had even heard at all. So Bucky lowered himself down to his knees, then onto his bottom, crossing his legs in an easy pretzel. He removed his gloves, breathing in long, calculated breaths. Preparing himself to be trampled—with paws, not with boots.

The German shepherd inched closer, curious, his beautiful brown and black coat mesmerizing Bucky. It had been a while since Bucky had seen a German shepherd. Last time was during the war. Steve had just returned with a small, rescued unit and gave his tent over to an injured sergeant. The man, who Bucky recalled as having the most gorgeous green eyes, had given his cot to his equally injured dog. With a horrid gunshot wound in his shoulder, the soldier sat on the cold, forest floor and wrapped his dog’s leg. Bucky hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t spoken much to the soldier, really.

All he remembered about that encounter was saying, “Describe the landscape of where you were held captive,” and the soldier replying, “This rascal probably remembers better than me.” Bucky couldn’t actually ask the dog the same question so he nodded his thanks, and never saw the dog or the soldier again.

Bucky figured it was safer to hold his flesh hand out first—safer for the dog. He highly doubted he would lose a finger to a dog with half his original teeth. The dog sniffed, nuzzling his nose in Bucky’s palm, groaning softly. Bucky released a shaky breath, one that hurt a little as it exited his lungs, but he sat still. He sat completely frozen, not risking moving, because this was the first time someone or something had touched him without him freaking out in a long time.

A paw repeatedly brushed against his knee, telling him to do more than just offer out his hand. So Bucky turned his hand over, rested it on the dog’s forehead, and pet him.

Then he used both hands.

Close to sobbing now, Bucky buried his face in the dog’s neck. The dog did the very same.

“Bucky?”

Bucky hummed, pulling the heavy dog closer.

“Did this make you happy?”

Bucky breathed in the mix of dust, dirt, and—weirdly enough—tortilla chips, that made up the dog’s coat. Honest in his answer, Bucky barely nodded as he mumbled, “It feels good to be hugged again.”

~

[clairewritesandrambles]

❀ WIP Wednesday! ❀

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

Thank you to @hederasgarden for the tag (like a week ago whoops lol)!

All of these are F!Readers and more information on them can be found via the masterlist/WIPs list found in my pinned post here.

If I take a while to respond to your choice - don't worry. My WIPs are in different levels of completeness so some are fully ready to go, some need to be fine-tuned, and others need to be written.

(Yes, I have a stupid amount of WIPs. No, none of them have titles yet. I tried to break them down and give them identifying factors to make it easier for y'all if I had multiple fics that would have the same pairing.)

WIPs: Fics - OC

August Walker x OC

Bucky Barnes x OC

Henry Cavill!Clark Kent x OC

Jack Castello x OC

Peter Maximoff x OC

Scott Miller x OC (FWB to Lovers)

Scott Miller x OC (Tyler's Sister)

Spencer Reid x OC

Walter Marshall x OC

Warren Worthington III x OC

WIPs: Fics - Reader

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Henry Cavill!Clark Kent x Reader

Scott Miller x Reader

WIPs: One-Shots - OC

Boone Rodriguez x OC

WIPs: One-Shots - Reader

August Walker x Reader (Sex Pollen)

August Walker x Reader (Friends to Lovers to Enemies)

Boone Rodriguez x Reader

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (Childhood Best Friends to Lovers)

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader x Jake Seresin

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Henry Cavill!Clark Kent x Reader (Breeding)

Henry Cavill!Clark Kent x Reader (Mistaken Identity)

Henry Cavill!Clark Kent x Reader (Co-Workers)

Jack Castello x Reader

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Robert Pattinson!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Scott Miller x Reader (Second Chance Romance)

Scott Miller x Reader (CNC)

Scott Miller x Reader x Javi Rivera

Scott Miller x Reader x Tyler Owens

Steve Rogers x Reader (Sex Pollen)

Steve Rogers x Reader (Friends to Rivals to Lovers)

Tyler Owens x Reader x Boone Rodriguez

Walter Marshall x Reader

Warren Worthington x Reader

[stargirlsmooch]

°˖✧◝steve rogers masterlist◜✧˖°

˚‧✩ ੈin the middle* ੈ✩‧˚: the adventures of an innocent woman trying to navigate life with two rival alphas who want her: ari levinson and steve rogers. alpha!ari x fem!reader x alpha!steve. 18+. ongoing.

headline heartbreak: when a false headline about your boyfriend's infidelity hits the news, it threatens your already-rocky relationship. but there's no way steve is letting you go. pornstar!steve rogers x fem!reader.

the alley: after being set up on a date with the sexiest hooker you've ever seen, you simply cannot wait to be fucked by him. sex worker!steve rogers x fem!reader. 18+.

i miss you: when you hear steve with another woman again, you just can't handle it. but it appears that he can't either when he calls her by your name. steve rogers x fem!reader. 18+.

miscommunication: steve believed that you were crushing on bucky for the longest time, but how does he find out that it's actually him whom you love? steve rogers x fem!reader.

wish: after one final night with steve, you're at your breaking point- done with being used. but steve isn't ready to let you go, he just wishes he could tell you.frat boy!steve rogers x fem!reader. 18+.

[sarahowritesostucky]

Not sure if you take requests, but if you do can I request an old western story with Outlaw!Steve x POC!Reader?

kind of like that Bucky x ofc historical slave outline you did up a while back, except with Steve instead of Bucky, and Steve is dark!Steve, maybe some dub con (you are the master of dubcon, I swear)

It doesn't have to be anything super long or complicated, if you do decide to write it. I'm a black woman and It is so hard to find Steve Rogers writers who have an interest in writing explicitly black female reader insert characters. I saw you had ideas for a few and I'd really love to read them ---- your writing is some of the best I have ever read ----😌 including books!

Request accepted! I will write a lil' something tonight as I gear up to get back to the next thing in my WIP folder.

For reference, here is the imagine you mentioned, which I made for a future fic, called "Runnin' Roughshod."

Mostly, I'm very interested in any dynamics in fic that create a power differential between love interests. So age gap, a/b/o, teacher x student -- that kind of thing. For me, writing an ofc POC in a historical context falls into this realm (because we all know how lovely the 1800s were for black people in America).

Can I just say the fact that you called me the "master of Dub Con" is like the nicest, sweetest thing!?!😌

I will try and write a short piece with:

Steve as a morally dubious brothel customer/bounty hunter

Steve x "her/she/the girl" format, with nickname/alias and descriptions

reader as a saloon girl/sex worker

Reader as formerly enslaved POC, on the run

they have a steamy time together 😉

There is power imbalance and dub con

Steve blackmails her into becoming his

Thanks so much, Nonnie. I will come back and edit this post with the link once it's written and posted, so that you can be sure to find it. I'd love to hear your thoughts, too, once you read it. Feel free to shoot me another anon if you're shy!

💖Sarah

Update: here is the fic

[ramp-it-up]

Sugar, Cubed II:

Simple Sugar

Summary: I revisited Sugar and the boys from the Sugar is Sweet séries, and let me tell you. Bucky and Steve sure have grown up from their college days. They are no longer playing around. And they are coming for you. You're forced to be roommates with Steve again. But you can establish boundaries. It'll be simple, right?

Word Count: 3K

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; mention of Bucky Barnes x Reader; boss Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Roommate/Co-worker au, S MUT! Angst, Tony is a shit boss, massive debt. forced proximity. Tattoo talk, Steve apologizes, accidental, then purposeful voyeurism, reference to porn and sex toys, masturbation, talk of impotence, raw p in v, rough sex, dirty talk, lots of cum, eventual polyandry. Basically, you are doomed. Porn with plot.

A/N: This is related to the Sugar is Sweet au, but can be read alone. This is part two to Sugar, Cubed. The next part is soon come! I hope you like it. This is part of Falloween 2024.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

——

After three days of calling in sick, you were summoned for a sit down with Mr. Stark. 

This was not a, ”have a drink while Black Sabbath plays and you admire Tony’s t-shirt as he rambles” type of chat. This was, a “let’s review the terms of your contract in the boardroom with suits” type of meeting.

Tony’s eyes admired you in your silk blouse and pencil skirt as you arrived, then watched you pointedly at you as you reviewed the numbers on the page.

Half a million for your bachelor’s and masters degree at NYU. Almost as much for housing. Not to mention the penalty for breaking your contract early. Even if you were paid a pretty penny and you had a ton of savings, you’d still be digging yourself out of a hole for the rest of your life if you quit.

Tony Stark owned your ass.

But you were on the verge of not caring.

“I know, you are over your current working situation, Sugar. But I still believe in you. I believe in the team of BuckySugarSteve.”

You gave him a confused look.

“Still trying to find a hashtag, look that doesn’t matter. It’s come to my attention that a certain plucky Bucky took things a little too far the other night. I’m sorry you had to deal with that on my watch.”

Tony looked sincere. But you eyed him warily.

“Thinking back on what you said last week, I now agree that you need a break. So I’m sending you to the Tokyo lab. But only for a limited time.”

“How long?”

Tony stood and turned his back on you, looking out over the Hudson.

“Depends on the progress made on the project there.” 

You stared at his back and his jet black hair and chewed your lip. You wanted out from the tension between the three of you. But there had to be a catch.

“What does the work entail?”

Tony turned back around with a smirk and explained the research and answered a few more questions from you. It seemed right in your skill set. Tony sat back down and crossed his ankle over his leg while he templed his fingers. He stared at you over the conference table.

“So what do you say Sugar?”

“I’m in.”

—--

You should have asked more questions.

Rage boiled inside you as you put up the partition on your business class seat and you typed away angrily on your phone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that your seatmate was Steve Rogers, but you were.

You just cursed as he greeted you and pulled out your phone as the flight attendant gave you the stink eye. Steve arrived just at the doors were closing. And there was no escape.

You wanted to throw your phone after you saw Tony’s response.

“I said you needed a break from Barnes, not Rogers. Suck it up and enjoy your time in Japan. Check out the expense account and your digs in Asakusa. You have to share, because space is at a premium in Tokyo, but you’ll survive.”

You didn’t bother to click the links that Tony sent. The living arrangements were sure to be top notch and the money was probably going to be great, but living with and working next to Steve was not what you were looking forward to. 

You popped a sleeping pill and tried to sleep most of the 14 hour flight. After managing to get some rest, you were not as rude to Steve when you had to put down your partition. Luckily, he didn’t try to speak to you and you deboarded the plane and got your luggage and to your driver without incident.

When you got to your place, you were impressed, but anxious. 

The place was modern and well placed within walking distance of the trains, but Tony was right. Your apartment in New York was twice the size of this place, and it was only you. 

You went to investigate the sleeping situation. There were two small bedrooms and they were right next to each other. Only one had an en-suite.

You were chewing your lip, deep in thought when Steve interrupted reverie. His voice was hoarse from half a day of not being used.

“It’s close quarters, but I will make it so you don’t even know I’m here.”

You turned around to see Steve standing in the doorway of the room you’d silently called dibs on.

He looked like a kid, in his rumpled t-shirt and hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. You almost felt something.

But not quite.

“Look, Sugar. I’m sorry. I really am. What happened in the elevator was… Bucky’s got a lot going on–”

He stopped once he noticed that you had stiffened up at Bucky’s name.

“Don’t make excuses for him. If you want to apologize, take responsibility for what you’ve done. Or not done. On. Your. Own.”

You sat on the ground and opened up your suitcase. Steve watched you as you started to unpack, thoughtful.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t punch him in the mouth to shut the jerk up.”

You just shook your head, refusing to smile, even though you thought about it.

“And I am so very sorry for lying to you. No matter what the reason. I should not have done that.”

You looked up at him and you could see Steve’s adam’s apple bob in his throat multiple times. His nervous tell. But you continued to look him in the eye.

“You were right to react the way you did. And you’re right to want to be as far away from u- me as you want to be. I’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to me and it was entirely my fault.”

You had to break eye contact then. You didn’t want to cave. You turned the sweater you were folding over and over in your hands. You could hear Steve take a deep breath.

“I just want–”

He cleared his throat again.

“Shit, I want a lot of things, Sugar, but I hope we can be cordial, friends even? We used to be friends. We're in a new city, a new country, a new continent. We can have a lot of fun together.”

You looked back up at him.

“Like we used to?”

“A lot has happened since ‘we used to,’ Steven.”

His shoulders slumped.

“Well, I will stay out of your way.”

He turned around to get out of your space and you felt a pang of some kind of emotion that you did not want to name.

“Hey.”

Steve stopped and turned around, his face guarded.

“I’ve been on a plane for an entire day, and I just want breakfast even though it’s 4pm here. I think I’m hangry. Let me think about it.” That smile. Oh, if you still had a heart, he might do something to it.

“I think I saw some eggs and American breakfast fixins in the fridge. I’ll make you an omelet.”

Steve knew you were a slut for breakfast. Among other things.

—--

After eating and chatting, you conceded that you did want a shopping partner; you planned to hit up all the thrift stores and you wanted someone to take day trips with on the weekend. You decided on a truce. It may have been food induced, but you thought that you could set good boundaries with Steve, so you lay down some ground rules.

Steve agreed to everything you said.

After trying to stay up as long as you could, you were ready to turn in for the night. You had a couple of days before you needed to report to the lab, so you and Steve decided to explore your neighborhood and maybe do some touristy things, since Tokyo Tower and the Asahi brewery were right outside your window.

And then it happened. 

You were minding your own business after your shower, in your thin cotton tank and sleep shorts, going to the kitchen to fill your water bottle. Suddenly, the hallway door opened and you ran into Steve coming out of the bathroom, naked except for a towel slung low on his waist and beads of water running down the planes of his extremely well made torso.

He almost ran into you.

“Oh, shit Sugar, I’m sorry….”

You’d stopped short and were staring at his left pectoral. There was new ink on the golden boy’s body. 

And you couldn’t believe it.

Among the beads of water diving down his body to disappear under the towel, because why wouldn’t they, there was a chemical formula. And you couldn’t believe which one it was.

“How long have you had that?”

You were staring, and your hand reached out to touch it, but you pulled back before you made contact. You looked up into his eyes and then back down at the tattoo because you didn’t want to drown in his eyes like you used to. 

But it seemed kind of inevitable now.

Sometime in the six months that you’d been broken up, Steve had gotten the compound for simple sugar tattooed on his body, (CH2O)x

“Sugar–”

“How long?”

You whispered it. And then dove into the blue depths of his eyes again.

“Two weeks after we broke up.”

His voice was impossibly deep, and threatened to reach places that you wanted to be unreachable. But you didn’t ask why.

“What was the thought process behind that decision, Steve?”

You didn’t ask why. But you needed to know the reason.

“Because it’s pretty simple, Sugar. You just wanted honesty. And if I had been honest, maybe we’d still be together. So I got this tattoo to remind myself that this is all I have left of the girl I loved the most. So maybe when I fall in love again, I won’t be such an idiot.”

“Wow.”

You reached out again and touched the tattoo. It had been right over his heart, without you knowing, for the better part of half a year.

Steve’s eyes stuttered closed and he drew in a sharp breath when you touched him.

“Sugar. You gotta know how…

You shook your head, blown away and rocked by what he said. Mostly the “when I fall in love again” part. You don’t know why that phrase echoed around your head.

“I’ve got to tell it all. Sugar, I thought in the back of my head that if you knew Bucky was hurt, that you’d go back to him.”

You closed your eyes, not wanting to sympathize with this grown ass man who lied to you so hard about someone you both loved, but you understood.

“So I lied, partly because he asked me to. But mostly because I was trying to keep you to myself.”

You sagged against the wall, still touching him, fingers grazing the mark that he’d made on his body for you. Steve followed you, not wanting the contact to end, and stood before you in the narrow hallway, naked except for a towel. He was closer than you’d allowed him to be in a while.

Finally, you looked up at him.

“You’re right, It is simple. I just wanted honesty. I wouldn’t have abandoned you for Bucky, Steve.”

Steve moved impossibly closer as his eyes flicked down your body. You remembered he had it memorized. Your chemistry was amazing. Not just the formula tattooed on his skin, but the draw of you to him, and him to you. You weren’t over that.

But you wanted to be.

One of Steve’s hands was on his towel, and the other was above your head. You were looking up at him and he down at you, and it was the perfect moment to kiss. But he didn’t make another move. You looked down and noticed that his towel had changed shape.

“Sugar…”

You looked him in the eyes again. It was all up to you.Your breathing was erratic and your panties were damp. Reaching up, you put your hands up on his pecs again. 

This time to push him back. 

“I think we need some rest.”

Steve backed up, toward his bedroom.

“Right. We need…”

Your need was mighty. But you weren’t giving in. You took a deep breath.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, Sugar.”

—-

You breathed a sigh of relief at your narrow escape and went in the kitchen to drink water and cool down. You mindlessly scrolled your phone for a few minutes and decided that you were calm enough to go to sleep. You glanced at Steve’s door as you opened yours, and you just had to stop.

His door was cracked just enough so you could see Steve sprawled on his bed, towel still on, still tented, and he was scrolling on his phone. He looked delicious, from the tattoo on his pec to his tiny tan nipples to his amazing abs and the trail of hair pointing to the large cock that you had memorized, and which was standing at attention under his towel. 

He looked good enough to eat. And you had plenty of times. But those days were over.

You bit your lip as he rubbed his erection over the towel, and moved closer as he groaned a little bit.

Was he looking at porn?

You totally understood his frustration after what happened, and he was in the privacy of his own room, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You felt guilty but you continued to watch him touch himself. 

And as you wanted to touch yourself.

You stared at his open door as suddenly, the towel came off, and he was naked, and stunningly aroused, his face pure lust.

Steve Roger’s cock was gorgeous. 

Your memories were nothing like the reality of him, thick and curved against his abs. He gripped the shaft, stroking it. Your hands found one of your nipples in the now-dark hallway, imagining kneeling for him.

You dreamed of his cock in your mouth and could practically feel yourself swirling tongue over his head and worshiping him as he told you what to do. The sensation him deep in your throat and letting him use it took over you.

You pinched your nipple tighter as he casually jerked himself off. You felt dirty, thinking how he’d feel knowing that you were watching him like this. 

Would he be mad?

Or…

Stifling a whimper, you slid a hand into your shorts, smearing your wetness over your clit to trace fast, tight circles there. You hadn’t had anyone but electronic lovers and plastic since you broke up with Steve. And here he was, giving you a show. 

You needed to see it. You wanted to see Steve cum, erupt, spill over his large, veiny hand, cream all over those abs. You moaned slightly as you imagined sucking it off those places.

His hand blurred on his shaft. Your clit hardened as you remembered his thick dick penetrating you, him fucking you well, calling you beautiful…

“Christ, Sugar, make me so hard. Take me so well. Cum with me Sweetheart…”

You were almost there and suddenly, Steve stopped. He got up, let go of his dick, walked to the light switch, give yon a look, and then plunged the room into darkness. 

Then he closed the door.

You practically jumped into your room, pacing, shocked and excited, thoughts in a jumble.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your shorts.

It was a text from Steve.

“If you want more, just open my door. It’s unlocked. You can have anything you want. I want you. What do you want, Sugar?”

You are propelled into the hallway, to his door, hesitating only a moment. You’re just going to talk to him. Apologize. Tell him you would never do it again. 

You were in his room now and the Tokyo moon cast shadows over his sleek torso. He was covered by the comforter, but you knew he was still hard.

“I always loved you in just tank tops. Those nipples are just begging to be sucked.” 

His deep baritone made you launch yourself toward him. Steve caught you in his arms, both of you bouncing on the bed from the impact.

“What it’s gonna be, Sugar? What do you want?”

You are taking his hands and molding them to your breasts, throwing the covers off and straddling his thighs. You pulled your shorts and panties to the side so you could feel the slide and ridge of his cock catch on your clit as you slipped over him.

It felt electric.

“I want you Steve. Fuck it all. I want you.”

You’ve lost your mind. You’re creaming on his dick as his big, strong arms held you steady and you humped him like a mad woman. 

“Fuck, it’s been so fucking difficult being hard as a rock all day working next to you in the lab, you ignoring me, and then not being able to get it up for anyone else…”

You were irrationally angry.

“Mine.”

You grabbed Steve’s cock and moved your thighs, lifting up and pushing his fat head into your cunt. You glared at him as you slowly sunk down on him, his thick shaft slowly opening you up.

It hurt so good. 

Your head lolled back on your neck as Steve pulled your tank top down and started brutally sucking your nipples. 

“Fuck yeah, it’s yours. Fit me like a fucking glove.”

Steve held you down for a few seconds as he pushed up into you as if he was going to lock on on his cock, then he lifted you up by your waist and started pounding you from beneath.

He stared up at you in the moonlight and you could feel his cock jump inside you.

“Didn’t matter what I did, who it was. Couldn’t fuck anyone else. Had to come home and pull up pictures of you.”

Steve was moving you now, just like a fleshlight, thumb at your clit.

“I’m about to fucking bust, and you better fucking cum around my cock before I do. Been too godamn long, Sugar.”

You moaned erotically at the thought of Steve impotent with everyone else but you.

He groaned in response and squeezed your nipple brutally. You quaked with your orgasm and Steve erupted mid pump, his spend spurting out as he moved in and out of you. 

“Fuuuuu-uuuck!” 

You collapsed backward on the bed as Steve continued to pump, impossibly still hard even after he came. You reached down into the copious wetness and circled your clit, wanting to prolong the sensation, and Steve groaned/laughed as you convulsed around him again.

You were a tangle of limbs, fluid, sweat and wet cloth as you came down.

Steve pulled you up, you got out of his bed and walked back to your bedroom, turning on the shower.

As you climbed into your bed, Steve was already there, re-showered himself. You fell asleep in Asakusa, Tokyo, Japan, tracing his tattoo, and wondering if it really was that  simple, Sugar.

——

Did you like it? Let me know!

Next part soon. 😮‍💨

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

How is September already?! Let's not dwell on that, instead, focus on these fabulous writers and stories I had the pleasure of reading throughout August 🌻

As always, the majority of these stories contain 18+ content, please check all warnings, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Please make sure you reblog these stories and give the writers the love they deserve 🩷

Ari Levinson ✨

Playing with fire by @flordeamatista

bodyguard!ari levinson x mafia!princess reader

Diplomatic negotiations by @oh-my-damn

Teacher!Ari Levinson x Student!Reader

Bucky Barnes ✨

On my mind by @targaryenvampireslayer

Best friend Bucky Barnes x female reader

Only the two of us by @barnesafterglow

tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

Aroma by @navybrat817

Florist!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Soother by @kinanabinks

Scientist!Bucky x Sex Worker!Reader

Dirty little secret by @vellicore

DBF!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Heart talk by @jobean12-blog

Bucky x reader

Passionate negotiations by @targaryenvampireslayer

Mob boss!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Bell pepper by @bi-disaster-yn

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Eddie Munson ✨

Made for me by @lilacletter

Eddie Munson x reader

Bring me a dream by @cursedyuta

eddie munson x reader

Under your skin by @jobean12-blog

Eddie Munson x reader (Tattoo!Artist!Eddie AU)

Joel Miller ✨

Take it slow by @eupheme

joel miller x f!reader

Nick Fowler ✨

His by @jobean12-blog

Nick Fowler x reader

Lee Bodecker ✨

x by @lunarbuck

Lee Bodecker x f!reader (any race)

Steve Rogers ✨

Fragile by @syntheticavenger

Dark! Alpha Steve Rogers x Female Reader

His inheritance by @jtargaryen18

Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Multiple characters ✨

Built differently by @rookthorne

Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers

Secret ingredient by @straywords

Dark! PTA Dads! Stucky x Teacher! Reader

[missacidburn928]

I'm Only Good At Being Bad (SinsDC)

I'm Only Good At Being Bad:

Steve Rogers x POC!Reader “Nyx”

Summary:

Seduction is an art form.

Warnings:

18+ Only MDNI, Smut, PWP, Lap Dance, Pussy Job, Unprotected Sex

Notes:

The music set to this session is “Bad Guy” by Billie Eilish. Give it a listen to get into the mood. Happy Reading Heathens  😈

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Banner by @cafekitsune

As Steve had requested to have his session in one of the private entertainment rooms, you are already in place, perched on a small stage, when he arrives. 

He cuts an imposing figure standing in the doorway. Even dressed down in a simple t-shirt and jeans. 

“Have a seat Captain. The show is about to begin.”

He takes his time before he makes his way over to the plush, velvet couch. Taking in the sheer leopard print mesh strappy teddy complete with garters and stockings you wore just for him. Looking every bit the empowered sex worker turned Pin Up of his dreams.

The atmosphere thickens with a palpable tension.

Continue: ao3 tumblr

[justagirlinafandomworld]

It definitely does NOT feel like December should be over! But here we are, wrapping up the year of 2022 with December's reading list. This list is full of gems, I had such fun reading them and I hope you have a chance to enjoy them as well.

I want to give a great big THANK YOU to all the writers on this list! I was a bit of a Grinch this year in RL and your fics pumped my heart full of love, warmth and cheer.

This list is alphabetical by fandom (mostly), then by character. Summaries and warnings are included as provided by the authors.

Read what you like and share what you love!

2022 reading list | fic rec masterlist

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

Marvel

Strategic Fit by @indyluckycharlie Corporate AU!Bucky Barnes x Co-Worker!Reader Bucky knows better, he really does, and the last thing he wants is to give you more reason to hate him, but when he overhears an rather interesting conversation of yours, he just can't help himself.Warnings: Smut (minors do not interact). Explicit dirty talk, phone sex, male masturbation (but trying to hide it). May be considered noncon since Bucky's eavesdropping without permission and getting off on it (although someone else might be getting off on it too 👀) References to female masturbation and oral sex. Some light dom/sub vibes. Enemies to lovers, kind of.

A Piece of Me by @negans-lucille-tblr Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Bucky doesn’t want anything for Christmas, but you still manage to make it special.Warnings: Christmas, grumpy Bucky, moody Bucky, getting drunk, gift exchanges, lingerie, smut, fingering, p in v, orgasms, fluff

Marc's Praise Kink by @softlybarnes Marc Spector x Reader Anon: ill say it once and ill say it again, when marc spector gets comfortable enough around you, the praise kink is gonna come out and it's gonna come out hard, and lemme tell you, there's nothing that man loves more than being told he's doing a good job and hearing how good he's making you feel - i'm literally not taking any arguments about thisWarnings: Smut.

Remember me, love by @writingsoftheloser Sam Wilson x Reader When Sam and Bucky found themselves imprisoned, an old friend shows up to help them. And Sam definitely remembers them. Warnings: there’s some angst, fighting, swearing and a bittersweet ending

Destressing by @kittenofdoomage Steve Rogers x Female Reader Prompt: Steve has been such a good boy and deserves a special treat. Warnings: smut, fluff, slightly subby Steve

In The Moment by @kittenofdoomage Steve Rogers x Female Reader Prompt:  fill me up plz. Warnings: smut, rough smut, public smut

Knowledge Man by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming Librarian!Steve Rogers x Female Reader concept: With him, your words are becoming novels. warnings: tiny plot in library with just smut, semi-public sex, oral and fingering (r receiving),nicknames ─ Dove,

Supernatural

In Spite of What My Heart Says by @princessmisery666 Dean Winchester x Female Reader You’ve avoided Dean for a while, but there’s so much that’s been left unsaid. He catches up to you and you’ll happily distract him to put off the inevitable difficult conversation. Warnings: smut, choking, rough sex (sort of!), p in v, unresolved angst, language. 

The Longest Time by @princessmisery666 Dean Winchester x Original Female Character (Wynter) For the longest time, Dean hasn't allowed himself to dream of a future, but Wynter changes things.Warnings: fluff, flangst.

Just Like A Pill by @princessmisery666 Dean Winchester x Female Reader Sequel to “In Spite Of What My Heart Says”. Y/N has no choice but to go to the Winchester’s for help. But after ditching Dean at the Christmas Market and still not having spoken how will it go down? Will they finally say all the things that need to be said?Warnings: Angst, language, mild smut, mention of Dean dying, Demon!Dean mentioned.

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas by @deanwinchesterswitch Dean Winchester x Original Female Character (Nicole/Nico/Nic) Dean’s holiday spirit is nowhere to be found. Fed up with his Grinch-like behavior, Nicole is determined to open his heart again to the wonders of the world around them and help him find joy in the Christmas season.Series Warnings: FLUFF, a tiny bit of angst, implied smut, slight canon divergence

Evermore by @deanwinchesterswitch Dean Winchester x Reader Living without Dean is an unbearable endeavor.Warnings: ANGST, character death-no graphic detail

Twofer by @kittenofdoomage Dean Winchester x Female Reader x Original Fictional Character (Lucy) Prompt: 2 for 1.Warnings: oral sex, threesome (F/M/F), reverse cowgirl, mentions of bad break-ups

Samnesia Series by @princessmisery666 Sam Winchester x Original Female Character Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam's life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love. Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, language, stalking, mentions of cheating, kidnapping, shitty friend, canon level violence mentioned. 

Duck Dean Afternoon (4 Parts) by @mrswhozeewhatsis Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader A/N:  It was born from @helvonasche saying “It’s like fucking a duck for taffy,” after which she had to explain why fucking a duck for taffy was such a stupid idea.Warning: This is crack. So many things you never wanted to know about duck dicks are in this. 

Opportunity Knocks by @kittenofdoomage Dean Winchester x Female Reader x Sam Winchester Prompt: Eager to please both. Warnings: double oral penetration, threesome, implied double vaginal penetration

Other Fandoms

Practice Makes Perfect by @kittenofdoomage Geralt x Female Reader Prompt: she’s been practicing and wants to show him what a good girl she can be. Warnings: sex work, brothels, oral sex

Clueless by @supernaturalgirl20 Din Djarin x Female Reader Request: for idiots in love. “You’re so cute. What did you just say? I said you look like a boot.”Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, Din being clueless, Established sexual relationship, live sick idiots, mild reference to smut.

Happy Reading!

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes (Affinity Series)

Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

Wordcount: 3990

Summary:

You celebrate your first Halloween together as a mated pack.

Warnings:

Gratuitous Smut, Smut, Shameless Smut, Halloween Costumes, Porn With Plot, Voyeurism, Pole Dancing, Lapdance, Lap Sex, Threesome, Double Penetration, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Mating Bond, Mating Bites

Notes:

Hello Heathens! It's time for some sexy Halloween shenanigans with our favorite pack! Happy Reading!

Bannner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

Another year, another Halloween bash thrown by Tony at the compound. This year you had the added benefit of not one but two Alpha’s on your arm. Not to mention the lovely claim marks decorating your collarbone.

You couldn't be happier that the boys went along with your costume choices for the night. Preening over how sinfully handsome your Alpha’s looked. Both of them grew their hair out for the event. “Anything for our sweet little Omega.” They both stated upon your request. 

Bucky looked otherworldly dressed as a vampire, devilish fanged smirk and all. The contacts you purchased him turning his steel gaze, cold as ice. The subtle clenched jaw was even working in his favor.

Steve was almost unrecognizable. His blonde shaggy locks dyed brown and a full thick beard covered the lower half of his face. A couple well placed bloody cuts, dirtied up, torn clothing and a set of top and bottom fangs completed the werewolf ensemble. 

Then there was you. Dressed as Queen Akasha herself, sans the neck piece. You wanted to show off your claims, not hide them. It took some serious convincing and time on your knees for your Alphas to agree to let you wear the barely there costume. Based on the looks the three of you were receiving as you made your way through the crowd outside, it was well worth it. 

“I need a fucking drink. All these eyes on you are making me twitchy.” Bucky grounds out.

“Oh Sarg, they aren’t all on me.” You stop, turning your back to Steve as you face him, running your fingers down his Adam's apple. “I can practically see knees weakening watching your tall, dark, mysterious frame walk by.” 

You place a kiss to his chin and pivot to look up at Steve. “And you my dear Captain. You’re perplexing them all. Who knew America’s Golden boy could look so unruly.” You nip his Adam’s apple and head towards the bar inside, to gain some much needed warmth.

“I want to be angry, but for the life of me, I can’t think straight when she looks like that.” Steve states.

“Fucking little vixen.” Bucky shakes his head. “C’mon Stevie. Best not leave her alone too long. Trouble loves to follow her round.”

Drinks had been partaken, conversations shared and the party was starting to wind down. Only the team and those closest to them remain, congregating in the common room. As a joke, or maybe not, Tony had a stripper pole placed in the middle of the couches. 

The girls were curious as to your excitement at seeing the pole and you divulged that you used to choreograph for your sex worker friends for extra cash. “Plus it's a great workout in general. You really should give it a try.”

“You can’t tell us something like that and then not show us.” Wanda blurts out.

“I have to agree.” Nat nods along. “What level of routine were you choreographing for your friends? How do we know you’re not just trying to impress us with your words?”

With the rum still slightly running through your veins you had no qualms about educating them on your skills on the pole. “I know your goading me to get a free show but I really can’t back down from a challenge.” You smile devilishly. “Go ahead and take a seat, bring the men over too if you wish.”

“Oh I’m so game for this.” Maria exclaims, grabbing Wanda’s hand and pulling her toward the couches, currently occupied by Bruce, Clint, and Sam.

“Where’s the smoke?” Clint asks as the women take their seats.

“We’re about to get a lesson on how to work a stripper pole.” Nat explains.

“Yo!” Clint yells to Tony, Thor, Steve and Bucky at the bar. “We’re about to have some entertainment of the sexy variety. You might want to make your way over here.”

They all shrug and head over to the couches. Your Alpha’s noticing that you are not among the women sat waiting. A haunting beat begins playing as they spot you sauntering towards the pole. Almost recreating Akasha’s walk from the film. 

“Is she about to pole dance to Forsaken from Queen of the Damned, dressed as Queen of the Damned?” Sam questions.

“I have no idea what this Queen of the Damned is but I am most enjoying where this is going.” Thor imparts. “Once again Barnes, and not to now exclude you Rogers, I am very impressed by your Omega.”

“Shush. We’re trying to enjoy the show.” Nat hushes them. 

Unbeknownst to the team you could do this routine in you sleep. It’s one of your favorite go to's when your feeling yourself and need a little outlet. And yes you have taught your two best friends this routine for when they need to hit the pole as a side hustle. You even taught a class using a variation of this routine to bored housewives.

You can't help the way your body caresses and moves around the pole. As always the beat takes over you, turning you into a siren of the flesh. You're flawlessly doing sunwheels, corkscrews, and ballerina spins. Intermingled with inverted splits, a cross knee layback, and secretary sits. You’re sure to show off a bit of floor work as you perform an assisted shoulder stand down onto all fours, whipping your hair around as you sit back on your heels. You smile smugly at the girls' slack jawed faces before continuing on. 

Your boys are transfixed by how you have captivated the attention of everyone in the room. The prideful Alphas can’t help the satisfaction they feel knowing that you’re all theirs. Brazenly showing their marks to the world. They may have to put a pole up at home, make a whole naughty playroom for your enjoyment.

“Another!” Thor proclaims as you land on your feet and bow to the small applause of your super friends. 

“I always knew there was something you were hiding. That sweet face, so unassuming. No typical Omega could handle having one supersoldier Alpha, let alone two. Let me guess, you're proficient in lap dances as well?” A tipsy Tony inquires.

“But of course.” You smile mischievously at your Alphas. “Friday. Dim the lights and play Unholy by Sam Smith and Kim Petras.”

You confidently strut over to stand between Bucky’s legs as the lights lower and the song begins. Your hips bounce to the beat, sinking low, using his powerful thighs for balance, leaning forward into a body roll, pulling back until you're upright. 

You slowly lift your left leg into a standing leg extension, holding it for a moment before releasing it and straddling both of Alphas thighs with a cheeky giggle. You grab onto their shoulders, throwing your head back and quickly whipping your hair back and forth. Snapping back forward and throwing your hips up and back, bending over for all to see. 

You eye your Captain, as you spin on your heels, swaying your hips side you side you back up into his lap. You roll your body against his, running your right hand up the back of his neck, weaving your fingers in his silky locks and gently pulling as you grind your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Omega.” He growls in your ear.

“Shhh, Captain. Just enjoy your dance, Alpha.” You tease.

“You're lucky you’re already mine, doll. Doing this with everyone watching, testing our patience.” He nips behind your ear. “Risky business. Making your Alpha’s want you so badly. Just look at Bucky.”

You turn your head, still working Steve over, as your eyes lock with the dilated pupils of Bucky's. You lick your lips and swallow as you feel your slick begin to soak through your thong.  

You feel Steve inhale, as Bucky’s nostrils flare, both clearly scenting your arousal. “Everyone out.” Bucky growls to the room.

“Excuse me, this is my compound.” Tony snaps back.

Ignoring him, your Alpha continues on. “You all have 30 secs to get the fuck out before your stuck watching Steve and I take our Omega apart.”

“I would quite enjoy viewing you ravage such an enticing Omega as I am not allowed to partake per your Midgardian customs.” Thor declares. “A shame really.”

You turn over to straddle Steve’s lap, continuing to dance, lost in the combined scent of your Alpha’s. “I don’t even think these two would notice right now.” Tony quips. 

Bucky leans in, gripping your chin. “That right ‘mega? You getting floaty already?” You subtly nod your head. “Want me to kick everyone out or do you want them to truly see who you belong to?”

“Depends on who’s staying.” You whisper out.

“Apparently just Thor and Tony” He quickly scans the room. “Everyone else seems to have found their way somewhere else.”

“Probably to go work out all the sexual tension you guys have been putting out.” Tony snarks.

“Most certainly. I saw Natasha practically dragging Bruce behind her.” Thor agrees with a chuckle.

You look up to see the room clear of everyone but the Demi God and the Billionaire Playboy. “What do you think Captain? An audience of two, okay with you?”

He nuzzles into your neck. “I don’t care either way. I just really need to have you squirming on my cock.”

“I need a verbal yes or no, Alpha.” You respond. “I’m not about to have you get all possessive and violent because someone other than Bucky is getting turned on watching you split me open.”

You feel the growl emanating from his chest deep in your core as he leans back and looks you in the eye. “Yes, Omega. They can watch how good you take my cock.”  

“You heard the man.” Bucky addresses the two men. “Don’t take this opportunity for granted.”

Zoning in on the Alpha you’re sat upon, you lean forward, running your hands through his shaggy hair, kissing him deeply. You're granted the taste of the whiskey and Asgaurdian liquor he’s been sipping throughout the night on his tongue. The scent of him around you combined with his current taste has you grinding your slick soaked thong all over the font of his pants. Making quite the mess. 

A devilish smile appears on his bearded face as he wraps his fist in your hair and pulls your head back. Forcing you to look him in the eyes. "Unzip my pants and pull me out." He quietly commands.

Without hesitation you undo his pants and pull out his thick length. Subconsciously licking your lips at the sight of his precum already leaking out of the tip. 

“Pull that flimsy piece of fabric to the side and sit on my cock, Omega." Eyes glazed over, hindbrain kicking in at the order you lift yourself up enough to pull your thong to the side, exposing your leaking slit. You place his tip at your entrance, sliding down onto his thickness, filling yourself up inch by inch. 

Hand still in your hair he pulls you down into a heated kiss, tilting his hips up as your pelvis’ meet, getting as deep as he can. Pulling away, he wraps a hand around your throat, groaning as you involuntarily clench around him. "Now be a good girl and hold on to my shoulders." 

Once your hands are securely placed, Steve begins to piston his hips up into you. Practically using your body like his own personal ‘rutlight’. You start to bounce along with him, meeting in the middle with a grind of your hips. 

His hand tightens around your throat, the sweet pressure muffling your screams as you notice cool metal fingers trail along your spine. "That's it Omega. Look so pretty taking your Alpha’s cock.” Bucky whispers in your ear. “Fuck. I bet you're squeezing his dick real good, huh, baby girl?"

You can feel yourself ready to explode, his words adding fuel to the fire. You feel more than see, his flesh hand traveling down your torso, stopping at your mound. He takes the opportunity to play with your clit, rubbing tight little circles against the sensitive nub. You bite your lip from the overwhelming sensations of being surrounded by your Alpha’s, right on the knife edge of control, rapidly hurtling towards the cliff of your climax. Not to mention the fact that you have an audience, witnessing your destruction. 

"Oh baby you're so close. Can feel your sweet little pussy trying to pop my knot.” Steve grits out. “Gonna cum all over my fat cock?" 

You moan and nod your head yes, lost in a haze of lust. "I can’t hear you, Omega. Use your words. Do. You. Want. To. Cum. On. Your. Alphas. Cock?" He punctuates with his thrusts.

"YES! Please, Alpha. Want to cum all over your cock. Want to make a mess just for you." You manage to whimper out.  

Bucky groans, nipping your shoulder. "There's our sweet ‘mega. Always so good for her Alphas." He increases the pressure and speed on your clit. Making your grind against Steve all the more. 

"Now! Cum for us right now, Omega. I want to feel this little tight pussy of yours clamping down on my dick like a vice." Steve commands, setting off your orgasm. Throwing your head back, you let out a deep guttural moan, writhing on his dick, as you ride out the climax.

Unwilling to knot you and have you stuck on this couch for who knows how long, but still needing to remind the room who you belong to, Steve removes his hand from your throat. Within seconds each Alpha has latched on to their respective marks and bit down, freshening up their claims.

Like the turning of a switch, you melt into Steve, losing yourself to the lovely feeling of Omegaspace. Floating in a haze of pheromones, enveloped in the safety of your Alpha’s arms. You could care less who was left in the room other than Steve and Bucky. 

“You can put your tongues back in your mouths now boys.” Steve addresses the awestruck duo frozen to their seats. “Thank goodness you didn't pull your dicks out at least.”

“I was tempted to.” Tony blurts out.

“If I had, I would not have been able to refrain myself from trying to partake in the festivities.” Thor confesses. 

“Been there.” Steve agrees with a chuckle. “Anyway, have fun getting rid of those, boys. We’re going to go knot our sweet little omega til she passes out. See ya in the morning.”

“You’re staying here?” Tony asks.

“There is no way in hell I can last til we get to our place before I knot her properly.” Bucky growls out. “So yeah, we're staying in our apartment here. That a problem?”

“Not at all. I'll have Friday double the soundproofing and warn Sam.” He squeaks out.

“Thanks Tony.” Steve responds, scooping you up and walking down the hall to the apartment they keep on the compound.

You're undressed and placed down on what you know to be Steve’s king sized bed, based on the scent wafting up from the sheets. You sense them on either side of you as you burrow your nose in the pillow beneath your head.

“Feeling good, Omega?” Bucky asks.

“Mmmhmm” You nod your head in response, opening up our eyes and catching the steel grays to your right.

“Need more? Or are you good for the night?” Steve queries.

“More. I know you both didn’t come.” You quirk a brow at them. “Can’t have that.”

“That right ‘mega?” Bucky teases.

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ for emphasis.

“Okay.” He caresses your chin. “Can’t disappoint our sweet little Omega now can we. What do you have in mind, babygirl?”

“I want to ride my Captain while you fuck my ass from behind Sarge.” You calmly state.

The supersoldiers let out simultaneous growls at your request. 

“I want to be stuffed full. Need you both to use me for your pleasure. Please.” You can’t help but pout as you plead for what you want.

Bucky runs his metal thumb across your bottom lip. “No need to pout, sweet ‘mega. You’ll get what you want. Stevie, toss me the lube I know you keep stocked in your nightstand. You heard what she wants. Let her ride you some more while I prep that glorious ass.”

You smile triumphantly as you throw a leg over Steve’s naked waist. Somehow you just now realized that you’re all undressed, naked flesh on full display. You tease his turgid length, re-coating him in the fresh slick leaking from your cunt until you feel the vibration of his growl against your thighs as he stills your hips with one of his massive hands. With the other, he grabs his dick, teasing your clit with the tip, pulling a whine from you that is cut short as he lines up and thrusts, sinking his cock deep inside you. 

Your head falls back and your spine arches as you push yourself up and undulate your hips, burying him even deeper. Your Alpha’s following your every move, entranced by the way you swivel and bounce, losing yourself in the ebb and flow of your own little private show being put on for their eyes only. 

Worked up and ready to be inside you himself, Bucky, having sufficiently lubed up his cock, climbs between Steve’s spread legs. Placing a hand to the middle of your spine he kisses up your throat until he reaches your ear.

“Be a good Omega and lean forward for me so I can join in on the fun. You don't look stuffed enough yet.” The cool palm in the middle of your back helps push you down until you're laying flush against Steve’s chest.

He then proceeds to run his lube covered fingers along your stretched out lips, gathering the slick that continues to pour out of you with one hand as the other grabs a cheek and spreads you out, exposing your puckered little hole. Running his coated fingers around your hole teasingly, slowly adding more pressure until he is able to get the first one, then two fingers inside you. Opening you up little by little, as you gently roll your hips back and forth, grinding down on the Alpha beneath you.

“You’re doing so good for me ‘mega. Gonna add another finger. Open you up a bit further so you can take me nice and deep. Want you to focus on how good my fingers feel.” Bucky instructs you.

He works his third finger into you and proceeds to scissor them all and open you up further until you can take them with ease and are a whimpering mess. As he pulls them out, you whine at the feeling of emptiness left behind. 

He grabs a cheek in each hand and spreads you out, signaling Steve to still your hips. Lining himself up he breaches your tight little hole. “Relax, ‘mega. Take a deep breath for me.”

You do as you're told and on your exhale your tight ring of muscle relaxes, allowing Bucky to sink right in. “Fuck. So tight. How ya feeling, Omega?”

“Full.” You moan out. 

“Good.” Bucky grits out.

That is the last thing you are able to comprehend, as they begin to pull out and thrust into you, never leaving you empty. As one retreats the other pushes in, playing you like a well strung violin. Pulling moans, whimpers and orgasms from you like notes on a page. Creating a sinful melody to feed their carnivorous appetites.

You can feel the haze of overwhelming pleasure start to take over your body. Your senses are so keyed up and overloaded, that it doesn't take long before you are crying out and clenching down on the cocks lodged inside you as you crest over the edge into a blissful climax. Head buried in Steve’s chest as tears begin to flow from your eyes at the overpowering ecstasy. 

“That’s it, Omega. Love it when you squeeze me so tight, trying to make me pop my knot, lock me in place.” He lifts your head from his chest and places a tender kiss to your forehead as they slow their thrusts, allowing you a moment of reprieve. 

He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb. “How are you feeling?” 

You’re just coherent enough to get out a few words. “So good. Need more. Want your knots.”

“I couldn't dream of denying her anything right now.” Bucky states.

Your pussy and ass squeeze around your Alphas, as you imagine being filled with their hot cum, causing them to start to lose their rhythm. Pounding into you erratically as they chase their own highs. 

“Fuck. That’s it ‘mega.” Steve grunts out. “Take my cock. I’m so fucking close. Gonna pop my knot and paint your insides white. Gonna lock you to me as you take every drop.” 

As Steve’s words hit your ears, you instinctively squeeze around Bucky, setting off a frenzied pace in the Alpha as they race to the finish line. 

“Fuck Steve, you make her clench around me like that again and her pussy wont be the only thing getting filled.” Bucky groans out.

Having them talk about filling you up like you're not even in the room is the spark that lights the match on the fire that is your impending orgasm. You detonate in a blaze of pleasure, almost blacking out from the sheer force of it, taking both of them along with you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Bucky loses it first, hips stuttering until they still, popped knot resting against the outside of your ring of muscle as he groans and empties his balls into your abused little hole. Gripping your ass cheeks so hard you're sure he left bruises behind.

As he slowly pulls out his still hard member, your hole clenching trying to pull him back in, Steve lifts his hips and lodges himself deeper into your cunt. He pulls you into an intense kiss just as his knot pops, making good on his promise, as he shoots rope after rope of his seed deep into your womb, coating your walls white, triggering a minor orgasm of your own. “Can’t get enough of filling you up. Especially when it sets you off again like that. Come on, ‘mega, milk your Alpha dry.”

He grips your hips, grinding your clit along his pelvis until you come one last time for him, biting down on his shoulder as you undulate against his chest. 

You feel cool metal and warm flesh dance along your spine as you come down from your final high. Removing your head from the crook of Steve’s you turn to look upon the satisfied face of your head Alpha.

“Hey there sweet Omega.” You smile at the softness in the rough Alpha’s voice. “You did so good, baby. Made your Alpha’s feel amazing.” 

You preen at the praise, cuddling closer to Steve’s chest. “So so good. Go ahead and rest, doll. You’ve earned it.” He whispers in your ear.

You’re starting to drift off, listening to your Alpha’s speak around you.

“You know, last year, I knew you had her locked on your knot while we watched Scream.” Steve confesses. “Even though you were trying to be quiet, I heard you going at it before I came out. Might have even gotten off to it so I wasnt coming into the room hot.” He chuckles.

“Steven!” You jolt upright, to smack him on this peck.

“You dirty fucking dog. Just couldn't help yourself could you?” Bucky shakes his head. “Bet that wasn't the last time you jerked it to us.”

“That night wasn't even the first.” He replies with a shit eating grin as he pulls you back down, locking you in his arms. “Certainly won't be the last.”

[disasterofastory]

The pretty little actress of Rogers + Next step (Steve Rogers x Reader)

The pretty little actress of Rogers + Next step // Extra chapter for The pretty little actress of Rogers Steve Rogers x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: mention of smut

Summary: You are ready for the next step.

Steve's apartment above one of his clubs in the center of the city is still bigger than yours. The place is modern and simple. White furniture fills the space with an office, bedroom, and bathroom at the back. The view of the neighborhood is beautiful, with the dark sky and lights filtering out of the windows. "It's not much," Steve says as he closes the entrance door while you step further into the living room. You hum, looking around. "It's beautiful too." "Thank you," he smiles. "I prefer the house outside of the city, though." "I understand why," you agree. The party in the nightclub under you is still going. The music is muffled but not as much disturbing as you thought it would be. "You can take a shower if you want," Steve offers, nodding at the way of the bathroom. "Are you hungry? I can make something while you shower." "Thank you," you smile up at the man. Your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag. Your heart jumps up to your throat.

When your husband came up with the idea to open your marriage, he wanted sex. You knew it. You still agreed, though. He needed more. He needed something else. Someone else. His co-worker, for example. And right now, as you stand in front of the mirror in your new lingerie, you can't blame him. You don't remember the last time you felt so excited and nervous at the same time. Having sex with your husband became a task you did out of habit. And it was always the same. The same order, the same position, and the same kisses and caresses. You can't blame Kent, though. None of you came up with ideas to spice things up. You accepted the way things worked between you, and that's it. But now? Now you are in an open marriage with a man waiting for you outside.

Steve and you didn't even kiss yet. You weren't ready, and Steve didn't push you to do things you didn't want to do.

"And what about sex?" Nakia asked you one morning when you met them to have breakfast before work. "What about it?" You asked back. "Did you do it?" She questioned. "Not yet," you shook your head. Heat spread across your cheeks at the topic. "We didn't even kiss." "What are you waiting for?" "I'm sure it's not that easy," Wanda argued on your side. "Tell it to her husband," the older woman grunted. "Nakia!" Your friends never tried to hide the fact that they don't like Kent, but at least Wanda tried to be decent about it. You can't blame Nakia, though. She saw how much your husband's suggestion hurt you.

The mix of your lotions lingers in the air. Their scent is sweet and light. The end of your hair is still wet from the shower, and you can't help but feel awkward standing in front of the mirror. Your black, lacey set is covered with a matching nightrobe. The soft material caresses your skin every time you move. "Y/N?" Steve asks from outside. "Are you okay? The food is ready." "I'm out in a second," you reply. Your voice is hoarse and trembles with nerves. Are you really going to do it? Having sex with a man who is not your husband?

When you leave the bathroom, Steve is already sitting at the table, waiting for you. His suit is dropped down on the couch, and his shirt is loose on his broad chest. You can see the smooth skin of his collarbone. "I made sandwiches," he says. "I hope it's okay-" His words die on his pink lips the moment his eyes land on you. Your hold on the doorknob is tight behind you as you wait for his reaction. Hot coil pulls on your stomach, making you almost curl into yourself. The floor is cold under your feet. "You are beautiful," Steve speaks up after a while. His voice is quiet and strained. "Thanks," you exhale, forcing yourself to leave the door and make your way closer to him. Every step you take is heavy and uncertain. What should you do now? Sit down? Climb him? Ask him to have sex with you? Steve can see every thought on your face, and his lips twitch as he stands up from the table. "Just for me?" He asks, walking closer. He can't say no to the pull he feels the more he looks at you. Your legs are bare and smooth. The robe barely hides the soft mounds of your breasts. "Yes," you whisper. You know what Steve wants to know. "I bought it a few days ago." "I like the sound of that," he smirks. His arms slide around your body, pulling you against himself. You can feel his hardness straining his pants. The bulge is obvious. "Are you sure?" He asks, looking into your eyes. His gaze is tense but patient. "Yes," you nod. Half of your mind is busy with the feeling of him smoothing his large hands up and down on your back. "I want you." "We can stop whenever you want," he says. His words fan over your face. "I know," you nod again. As you answer, your lips brush against Steve's, and the moment you say the words, his mouth is on yours.

-

You still tremble when Steve leaves the bed. The sheets are wrinkled around you and smell like sex. You are in the middle with a pillow under your head. Your hair is a mess, and your face is warm with heat that spreads through your body. You don't have a part where you don't burn. A thin layer of sweat glints on your bare skin when Steve opens the door of the bedroom, and more lights filter into the small space. "Where are you going?" You ask him. Your voice is quiet and slurry. "Give me a moment, and I will be back," he smiles, and with that, he disappears to come back a few minutes later with a glass of cold water. He is naked and looks like a statue of the gods. Every cord of his muscle is perfection, from his wide shoulders to his calves. "Here," he says, helping you sit up. "Drink it." The glass gets empty within a few seconds. He holds you the whole time. "Thank you," you murmur, letting yourself fall back while Steve watches from the side of the bed. "Oh, we are not done yet," he smirks. "We are not?" You ask, shocked. "Oh no, Sugar," he laughs. It's deep and amused. "I didn't even taste you yet."