#steve rogers x soft!reader

[sosa2imagines]

My girl.

Warning- Soft dark Bucky and Steve, manipulate, spiking drink, planning and kidnapping maybe?, possesiveness, jealousy, 6.6k words.

You tug at the hem of the black dress Natasha had lent you, feeling a little out of your comfort zone but enjoying the way it hugs your curves. Even Thor, your ever-blunt best friend, had taken a moment to whistle in appreciation when he saw you. “Damn, Sweets, if I wasn't already taken...” he'd teased with a wink, earning a playful slap from Wanda.  

You laughed, shaking your head, “Thank you, but come on lets go, Natasha is waiting for us!!!”

Now, inside the nightclub, you were mesmerized. The music was pulsing through the air, vibrating under your skin, and the flashing lights created an electric energy that makes it impossible not to get caught up in the atmosphere. Wanda and Thor were already pulling you towards the bar, but your gaze lingers, scanning the crowd.  

That’s when you see them.  

Two men, both wearing baseball caps, an odd choice in a place like this. One has short blond hair, his face sharp yet friendly even under the dim lighting. But it’s the other one who catches your attention. Dark brown hair falls slightly into his eyes, piercing blue beneath the brim of his cap. He’s leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable, yet there’s something about him... something dark, something intriguing.   

You quickly look away when Thor hands you a shot, grinning widely. “To a great night!” he declares. You, Wanda, and Thor clink glasses and down the shots, the burn spreading warmth through your veins. Laughter bubbles out of you, as Natasha joins and drags you to the dance floor, and soon you're lost in the music, swaying and spinning with the beat.  

Little do you know, the two guys in the caps were watching you.  

The blond one, Steve, nudges his friend with a knowing smirk. “See something you like?”  

Bucky’s lips curl at the corner, his eyes never leaving you as you move effortlessly to the music. The lights catch on your skin, your smile lighting up your face in a way that sends a spark through him.  

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark. “I do.”  

The music pulses through your body, and you let yourself get lost in it, swaying and twirling under the flashing lights. Laughter spills from Wanda and Natasha as they dance beside you, their energy infectious.

But despite the music and the crowd, your thoughts drift back to those two guys.  

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance back toward where you first saw them, only to find the spot empty.  

Your brows furrow slightly. You could’ve sworn they were there... 

Before you can finish the thought, some movement catches your eye. They're closer now. Much closer.

The dark-haired one with those piercing blue eyes stands near the edge of the dance floor, his gaze locked onto you like he’s been watching your every move. The blond one leans in to say something to him, but Bucky doesn’t react, his focus entirely on you.  

You swallow hard, a strange mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your chest.  

And then it happens, gradually at first. The more you move, the closer they seem to get. Each beat of the music shortens the distance until, before you realize it, there’s a presence behind you.  

A warmth at your back.  

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you turn, and suddenly, he’s there. The dark-haired stranger stands close, almost too close. The sharp angles of his jawline, the way his eyes pierce right through you, leave you momentarily speechless. Up close, he’s even more devastatingly handsome, and your brain screams at you to keep it together.  

He offers you a small, almost sly smile and reaches out, taking your hand in his. His grip is firm but gentle, sending an unexpected thrill down your spine.  

“I'm Bucky.” he says, his voice deep and smooth, laced with something that makes your breath hitch.  

You blink, trying to ground yourself, “Y/n…” you manage, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks as you force yourself to meet his intense gaze.  

The moment lingers, and with a shy smile, you turn back to Wanda and Natasha, hoping to gather your scattered thoughts. They’re both watching with matching grins, their expressions practically screaming “we saw that.” Your cheeks heat further, and you shake your head, laughing nervously.  

It isn’t until you try to raise both hands to gesture at them that you realize something.  

Bucky was still holding your hand.  

Your eyes flick down in surprise, and when you look back up, there’s an unmistakable glint of amusement in his gaze. He gives your hand a light squeeze, as if testing whether you'll pull away.  

You don’t.

Bucky tugs lightly at your hand, a silent invitation to follow him. Just as your feet begin to move, a familiar voice cuts through the music.  

“Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?”  

You turn to find Thor standing there, arms crossed and an amused yet protective look on his face. His gaze flickers to Bucky, sizing him up with that big-brother energy you’ve grown used to.  

“Just to the bar.” Bucky says smoothly, but there's an edge to it, like he's not used to being questioned.  

You introduce Bucky and Thor to each other.

Thor’s eyes narrow slightly, looking at Bucky, before turning to you. “Stay where I can see you, yeah?” His voice is light, but you know he’s serious.  

You roll your eyes with a playful smile. “Yes, Dad!”  

Satisfied, Thor gives Bucky one last look before heading back to Wanda and Natasha, who are too busy dancing and whispering to each other to notice much.  

You finally let Bucky lead you through the crowd, feeling the warmth of his grip as he weaves effortlessly through the pulsing bodies. The bar is busy, but he navigates it like he’s been here a hundred times before.  

“This is Steve…” Bucky says, nodding toward the blond guy in the cap you noticed earlier.  

Steve offers a friendly smile, his blue eyes warm. “Nice to meet you.” he says, tipping his drink slightly in greeting.  

“You too…” you reply, offering a small smile.  

Bucky leans in a little closer, his voice low against your ear. “What’ll you have?”  

You wave him off, feeling a little awkward under his gaze. “Oh, I’m good.”  

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your answer. “C’mon, something.”  

You glance around nervously, then mumble, “Uh… orange juice?”  

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Your brain practically screams at you, “Who on earth orders orange juice in a nightclub?”  

Steve stifles a laugh behind his drink, and Bucky just smirks, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place. “Orange juice, huh?” he muses, signaling the bartender. “Classy.”  

You groan, covering your face for a second, “I panicked, okay?”  

Bucky chuckles, leaning a little closer, “Don’t worry, doll. I like classy.”  

Your heart does an embarrassing little flip at the nickname, and before you can come up with a response, he hands you the drink. The way his fingers brush yours sends a spark of warmth up your arm.  

Before you can sip, Bucky’s hand returns to yours, leading you further away from the crowded bar area. You find yourself in a quieter corner of the club, where some people are lounging, some are smoking, and the music feels a little more distant.  

Your nerves kick in again, but Bucky’s presence is oddly steadying. His gaze never leaves you, like he’s figuring you out piece by piece.  

“So,” he says, leaning against the wall, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”  

You take a tiny sip of your orange juice, trying not to cringe. “Apparently... making excellent drink choices.”  

Bucky laughs, and you realize then how soft his smile can be despite the dark edge lingering beneath it.  

You glance around the dimly lit corner of the club, your fingers tracing the cold glass of your orange juice. The air here feels heavier, laced with smoke and whispers of conversations that don’t quite reach you. Bucky stands close, his eyes never leaving your face as if he’s studying every flicker of emotion.  

“Do you smoke?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and rough, cutting through the haze around you.  

You shake your head, offering him a small smile. “No, not really my thing.”  

He nods, then tilts his head. “Mind if I do?”  

You glance at him, the way he stands with such quiet confidence, and shrug. “I don’t mind.”  

With a smirk, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it with practiced ease, taking a slow drag before exhaling the smoke in a way that somehow makes your heart stumble. The glow of the cigarette highlights the sharpness of his features, casting shadows across his jaw.  

You find yourself mesmerized…again.  

And then, in that same soft, dangerous voice, he says it.  

“You’re my girl now,” he murmurs, his eyes cutting through the smoke to meet yours. “If anyone comes near you... I’ll fucking kill them!”  

Your breath catches, and for a split second, your mind flashes to your ex. He never said anything like that to you. Not once. Your brain screams at you to stop thinking about him, to stay in the present, but it’s too late. The comparison lingers.  

You shake it off, letting out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Is that so?” you tease, tilting your head. “Then prove it.”  

Bucky’s lips curve in a way that makes something tighten in your chest. Without another word, he takes your hand, still warm from before and leads you back toward the bar. The music grows louder again, pulsing around you like a heartbeat, and just as you start to feel the weight of his words settle in, Thor intercepts you.  

“Alright, sweets” Thor grins, grabbing your hand before Bucky can react. “Time to dance.”  

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder at Bucky, but Thor’s already twirling you into the crowd. Wanda and Natasha cheer, and soon you're moving with them, laughing and letting the music wash over you.  

But it doesn’t last long.  

Before you know it, a familiar grip wraps around your wrist, not gentle this time. Firm, almost painfully tight. Bucky. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls you away, but the intensity in his hold is enough to make your heart race for a different reason. He’s not asking. He’s taking.  

You barely manage to throw Wanda a glance before you’re dragged through the crowd again, your feet struggling to keep up with his pace. The air between you thickens, and it finally hits you. You’re not just his girl now.  

Bucky Barnes is possessive about his girl.  

Your skin tingles under his touch, and for the first time tonight, a little voice in the back of your mind wonders just how deep that possessiveness runs.  

You don’t notice the way Steve watches from the sidelines, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, as if he knows exactly what’s going on inside Bucky’s head. As if he’s seen it all before.  

Bucky’s grip on your hand loosens as he finally stops, and when you look up at him, expecting to see the same intense expression from moments ago, you’re met with something entirely different.  

A soft smile.  

It’s disarming, almost as if the possessiveness he showed just seconds ago never happened. His blue eyes are calm now, gentle even, and it throws you off balance. You’re not sure how to react. Should you call him out? Ask what that was about? Or just... let it go?  

Your heart is still racing from how easily he dragged you away, but before you can decide what to say, Steve steps closer, and Bucky turns his attention to him. Their conversation is low, their words blending into the pulsing music, and for a moment, you’re left standing there, trying to process everything.  

Meanwhile, back at the dancefloor, Thor is anything but calm.  

“I don’t like it,” he says, eyes narrowing as he watches you with Bucky from across the room. “I don’t trust his intentions.”  

Natasha, ever the observant one, nods in agreement. “Did you see how he pulled her away? That wasn’t... normal.”  

Wanda, though quieter, presses her lips together in concern. “Y/n didn’t seem to mind too much, though.”  

Thor lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the problem. Guys like him? They have a way of making it feel like it’s okay... until it’s not.”  

Natasha’s eyes darken slightly, and she exchanges a knowing glance with Wanda. “We need to step in before this goes any further.”  

Wanda nods. “I have an idea.”  

Before long, Natasha and Wanda are weaving through the crowd toward you. You’re still standing with Bucky and Steve when they reach you, their smiles bright but calculated.  

“We’re just gonna steal her for a sec!” Natasha says smoothly, looping an arm around yours before Bucky can protest.  

Bucky’s jaw twitches slightly, but he nods, letting them take you. “Don’t take too long.”  

You let them pull you away toward the restrooms, barely registering the way Bucky’s gaze lingers on you as you disappear into the crowd.  

Inside, Natasha closes the door behind you, and Wanda immediately turns to you, her eyes full of concern. “Alright, spill. Are you okay?”  

You blink, caught off guard. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”  

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, he dragged you off the dancefloor!”  

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay, yeah, that was... intense. But he’s…I don’t know, it’s weird. He’s intense but then... soft?” You groan, pacing a little. “And I’m not even drunk, so I can’t blame it on that, but part of me just... wants to be around him.”  

Wanda’s eyes soften. “You sure it’s not just the mystery?”  

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “Maybe? I don’t know. But I’m fine. Really.”  

Natasha exchanges a look with Wanda, not entirely convinced. “Just... be careful, alright?”  

Meanwhile, outside the restroom, Steve watches as Bucky takes another slow drag of his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the door you disappeared through.  

Steve sighs. “Buck, you gotta calm down.”  

Bucky doesn’t answer immediately. He exhales smoke slowly, his eyes still on the door. “She’s mine.”  

Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You barely know her.”  

Bucky finally looks at him, and for a brief moment, there’s something dark in his expression. “I know enough.”  

Steve watches Bucky carefully, noting the way his jaw tenses as he stares at the restroom door. The silence between them stretches until Steve finally breaks it.  

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Buck?” he asks, his voice low but firm. “What’s the plan here?”  

Bucky flicks the ashes from his cigarette, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s mine.” he says simply, as if that alone explains everything.  

Steve raises an eyebrow. “And?”  

Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on the restroom door, his expression unreadable. “I’m not gonna rush it. She’ll come to me.”  

Steve lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “And if she doesn’t?”  

A smirk tugs at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “She will.” His voice is full of quiet certainty. “We wait. We watch.”  

Before Steve can respond, the restroom door swings open, and you step out with Wanda and Natasha. You look more composed now, but your eyes instinctively search for Bucky. When you find him leaning against the wall, his gaze unreadable, something inside you twists unexpectedly.  

Before you can take a step in his direction, Thor is suddenly at your side. “C’mon, sweets…” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you straight back to the dance floor. His grip is firm but not overbearing, a silent reminder that he’s keeping you close. Wanda and Natasha follow, shooting Bucky a subtle glance.  

Bucky watches, his expression darkening as Thor keeps you firmly within the group, away from him. His fingers tighten around his cigarette before he flicks it to the ground and grinds it under his boot. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, but he makes no move to come closer. Instead, he leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his attention shifting to Steve.  

“What’s the plan now?” Steve asks, watching Bucky carefully.  

Bucky’s lips curl into a slow, almost dangerous smirk. “Wait and watch.”  

Steve nods knowingly. “You’re playing the long game, huh?”  

Bucky’s eyes follow you as you laugh at something Thor says, but there’s a flicker of something in your expression, something almost hesitant. “She’ll come to me,” Bucky murmurs, as if it’s inevitable. “She’ll start missing me soon enough.”  

And maybe he’s right. Because as you dance with your friends, trying to enjoy yourself, you can’t help but steal glances in his direction. Every time you do, he’s already looking away, ignoring you as if you don’t exist.  

And for some reason, that stings.  

You know you shouldn’t feel this way. Thor and the others are just looking out for you, making sure you’re safe. But there’s something about Bucky’s sudden coldness that unsettles you. You can’t explain it, but a small part of you feels... bad.  

Kindness.  

It’s one of your biggest weaknesses. Your friends adore that about you, but they also know it makes you vulnerable. People can take advantage of it.  

And as much as you try to shake it off, that little voice in your head wonders if Bucky is counting on that very thing.  

You sway half-heartedly to the music, but your mind isn't on the beat or the flashing lights. Your eyes keep drifting to where Bucky and Steve are standing, and every time you see Bucky deliberately looking away, something inside you twists.  

Natasha nudges you gently. “Sweets, stop.”  

You blink, pulling your gaze away. “Stop what?”  

“Being you!” Wanda chimes in with a teasing yet serious look. “You’re too kind. You always feel bad when you shouldn’t.”  

Natasha nods in agreement, crossing her arms. “Kindness is great, but not when it keeps you up at night worrying about people who don’t deserve it.”  

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t just switch it off, Nat.”  

Natasha rolls her eyes but smiles knowingly. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Doesn’t mean we won’t try.”  

They both mean well, and you know they’re right. But it’s easier said than done. Your kindness is part of who you are, for better or worse. And right now, it’s gnawing at you, making it impossible to focus on anything else.  

Meanwhile, across the club, Steve watches you carefully before turning to Bucky. “She’s getting restless,” he says, sipping his drink. “You counting on that?”  

Bucky smirks, tapping his fingers against the table. “Of course, I am.”  

Steve exhales slowly, leaning in slightly. “Why her, Buck? There’s plenty of girls here tonight. Hell, there have been plenty of girls before her. What makes this one different?”  

Bucky's smirk deepens, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “She’s not like them,” he says simply. “She’s got... a softness. But not weak. She’s got fight in her too.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto you from across the room for the briefest moment before he looks away again. “And she doesn’t even realize it.”  

Steve shakes his head with a knowing chuckle. “You’re obsessed.”  

Bucky’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more dangerous. “I don’t do half-measures, Steve.”  

Steve leans back, watching Bucky with careful eyes. “Yeah... I know.”  

Back on the dancefloor, Thor notices the way you keep sneaking glances in Bucky’s direction, the way your shoulders sag with indecision. With a heavy sigh, he leans down, his voice gentle but firm.  

“Alright, doll,” he says, using the nickname Bucky had claimed as his own. “Go.”  

You blink up at him in surprise. “What?”  

Thor gives you a knowing look. “Go back to him. But stay where I can see you.”  

A wave of relief washes over you, and you can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Thor.”  

He ruffles your hair playfully. “Just don’t make me regret it, yeah?”  

With a nod, you turn and make your way back toward Bucky and Steve, your heart pounding with anticipation. You don’t notice the way Bucky’s lips twitch as he watches you approach, like he knew this moment was inevitable.  

Steve watches you approach with a knowing smile, nudging Bucky slightly with his elbow. “Told you…” he mutters, amusement dancing in his voice.  

Bucky doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans against the bar, his expression unreadable as you finally reach him.  

You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he doesn’t. He doesn't even look at you.  

“Hey…” you say softly, but he doesn’t react.  

You clear your throat and try again, a little louder this time. “Bucky?”  

Still nothing.  

Frustration bubbles up inside you, but you push it down, giving it one last shot. “Are you seriously going to ignore me all night?”  

Silence.  

Something sharp twists in your chest, and with a sigh, you take a step back. “Fine,” you say, your voice steady despite the sting of disappointment. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone, just like you want.”  

Before you can turn away, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. The grip is firm but not rough but possessive, in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.  

“I don’t like being ignored.” he says, his voice low and dark, his blue eyes locking onto yours.  

Your breath catches in your throat. “I wasn’t ignoring you…” you murmur, suddenly feeling the heat of his touch.  

His lips twitch into something that’s almost a smirk. “Apologize.”  

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “I…what?”  

“Apologize,” he repeats, his thumb brushing lightly against your wrist.  

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “Fine. Sorry, Bucky.”  

Satisfied, he tugs you closer and starts leading you toward the dancefloor. You don’t resist, letting him pull you into the crowd. The music pulses around you, and before you can fully register what’s happening, his hands find your waist, drawing you flush against him.  

There’s no space. None. His body is pressed firmly against yours, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest. The heat between you both is undeniable, and your mind is racing, screaming at you to think straight, but it’s impossible with him this close.  

“Relax…” Bucky murmurs near your ear, his breath warm against your skin.  

You try, but it’s impossible. His hands grip your hips, guiding you in sync with his movements, slow and deliberate. Your skin tingles under his touch, and every time your body brushes against his, your pulse spikes.  

After a few moments, he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I wanna do something for you.”  

You swallow hard, shaking your head slightly. “Bucky, there’s no need for that.”  

He grins, and the playful banter begins. “I didn’t ask if there was a need.”  

“Seriously, it’s fine.”  

“Let me.”  

“No.”  

“Yes.”  

And then, without warning, he silences you the only way he knows how.  

His lips crash against yours, stealing your breath and every coherent thought in your head. The kiss is firm, confident, and leaves no room for argument. Your hands instinctively find his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.  

When he finally pulls away, his blue eyes flicker with mischief, and he winks at you. “Told you I’d do something for you.”  

You’re left standing there, breathless and stunned, as the music pulses around you, but all you can focus on is him…just him.  

Bucky leads you through the crowd, weaving past dancing bodies and flashing lights until you reach a secluded corner of the club. The music is quieter here, the atmosphere darker, more intimate. You stand close, the space between you charged with something you can't quite name.  

For a while, neither of you say anything. You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you wait for him to speak first. Eventually, he does.  

“I like you.”  

The words are so simple, so unexpected, that they make you laugh. “Really?” you tease, arching an eyebrow. “Just like that?”  

Instead of answering, Bucky takes a step back and, to your horror, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “I like her!”  

Heads turn, eyes land on you both, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically reach for him. “Bucky! Shut up!” You hiss, tugging at his arm.  

He grins, utterly unapologetic, and takes it a step further. “I REALLY LIKE HER!!!!”  

You slap a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in mortification. “Okay! Okay, I believe you! Just be quiet, you goof.”  

Bucky chuckles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Slowly, you lower your hand, and before you can say another word, he kisses you again.  

This time, it's slower, deeper, less about teasing and more about something real. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, your palm resting over his heart. You can feel the steady, strong rhythm beneath your touch, and it does something to you. A soft sigh escapes you, and Bucky’s lips curve into a smile against yours.  

When he finally pulls back, he presses his forehead against yours. “Come with me…” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your waist.  

Your heart skips a beat, but reality crashes in just as quickly. “I can’t…” you whisper, shaking your head. “I came here with my friends. Thor won’t let me just disappear.”  

Bucky’s jaw tightens, and for a split second, there’s something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. “I don’t take no for an answer, doll.”  

Before you can protest, his lips are on yours again, stealing your breath, your words, your logic. You feel his arm tighten around your waist, holding you close, keeping you in his orbit.  

What you don’t see is the way he locks eyes with Steve over your shoulder. There’s a silent exchange, a plan forming without words. Steve nods subtly, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking.  

You’re too lost in the kiss to notice.  

You try to pull away, your hands pressing lightly against Bucky’s chest, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he tilts his head, a playful yet dangerous glint in his blue eyes. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” he says, his voice low and laced with something that makes your stomach twist.  

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What? No, of course not!”  

Bucky hums, unconvinced, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your waist. “Then why won’t you come with me? You think I can’t take care of you?”  

The guilt hits you like a truck, and you immediately shake your head, your voice softer now. “Bucky, that’s not it at all. It’s just… my friends. Thor won’t let me go that easily, and I don’t want to worry them.”  

Bucky stares at you for a beat, then his lips curl into a smile, his hands sliding up to cup your face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, and makes a face, his eyes wide, mouth open like he’s about to devour you whole.  

You burst into laughter, swatting at his chest. “Stop that, you’re ridiculous!”  

He grins, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. “But you love it,” he teases.  

Your laughter fades into a soft smile, and for a moment, you forget everything else. But what you don’t see is the way Bucky’s eyes flick over your shoulder, locking onto Steve.  

Behind your back, Steve nods, the plan silently set into motion.  

And just like that, you’re already one step closer to exactly where Bucky wants you.  

Just as you’re starting to relax in Bucky’s hold, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.  

“There you are!” Wanda’s voice is laced with amusement and just a hint of suspicion. She strides over, her eyes flickering between you and Bucky with a knowing smirk. “Come on, we’re not letting you disappear just yet.”  

You sigh, reluctantly stepping back, but Bucky doesn’t let you go so easily. His hand stays wrapped around your wrist, and he tilts his head at you with a playful pout. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”  

You blink in confusion. “What?”  

He leans in, voice dripping with faux hurt. “That’s why you’re not coming with me. You think I’m some idiot who can’t handle Thor.”  

Wanda laughs, crossing her arms. “It’s not about you, Barnes. Thor’s just… let’s say, protective about his friends.” She glances at you. “Right, dear?”  

You nod quickly, grateful for Wanda’s backup. “Exactly. I don’t want to cause drama.”  

Bucky smirks, but there’s something sharp beneath it, something calculating. “Drama? Doll, I’m all about drama.”  

You roll your eyes, about to respond when Wanda grabs your hand. “Come on, let’s go.”  

Just as you turn to leave, something shifts in the air. Steve, who had been lingering nearby, subtly moves into position, blocking Thor and Natasha’s view of you both. The timing is perfect.  

Bucky doesn’t let go of your wrist. Instead, he pulls you back suddenly, spinning you right into him. “Not so fast…” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.  

Your heart stutters in your chest, but before you can process what’s happening, Steve casually bumps into Wanda with a distracted, “Sorry, miss.” causing her to stumble and momentarily break her grip on your hand.  

In that split second of distraction, Bucky tugs you further into the crowd, his grip firm but playful, as if daring you to resist.  

“Bucky…” you start, but his grin is all you get in response.  

Steve watches from a distance, arms crossed and an amused look on his face. The plan was working.  

And deep down, despite the warnings ringing in your head, you don’t really want to stop him.  

“Bucky, what are you doing?” you whisper, breathless as he pulls you deeper into the crowd. The flashing lights dance across his face, highlighting the mischief in his blue eyes.  

Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you. Soft at first, teasing, before deepening it with a possessive edge that makes your knees weak. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders to steady yourself, but your mind is screaming at you to get back to Wanda and Thor.  

When he finally pulls away, his lips brush against yours as he murmurs, “Still wanna leave?”  

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to regain control. “I have to go…” you insist, your voice lacking the conviction you wish it had. “Wanda and Thor are looking for me.”  

Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, his fingers tracing over your wrist. “Stay.” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.  

You shake your head, trying to find your footing in this whirlwind. “Bucky, I can’t just…”  

He tilts his head, watching you closely, and then with that signature smirk, he says, “Just for a little while. We’ll stay in the club, I promise.”  

Your resolve wavers, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to think straight. After a moment, you sigh in defeat. “Fine. Only in the club.”  

Bucky’s lips twitch in victory. “Good girl.”  

But what you don’t realize is that Bucky’s promise means nothing, not when he’s already made up his mind. While you’re distracted, his eyes flick over your shoulder to where Steve stands near the bar. A single nod passes between them, silent and calculated.  

You may think you’re staying, but Bucky has other plans.  

Just as you begin to relax in Bucky’s presence, the music pounding in your chest like a second heartbeat, a familiar voice cuts through the haze.  

“There you are,” Thor’s deep voice rumbles from behind you. His expression is firm but not unkind as he reaches for your arm. “It’s time to go home, Sweets.”  

You glance up at Bucky, feeling the tension in the air shift. For a second, you consider arguing, just a little, but something about the way Thor is looking at you makes you nod instead. “Alright, you say softly.  

Bucky’s jaw tenses, but he doesn’t stop you. Not yet.  

Just as you turn to follow Thor, Bucky appears at your side, holding out two glasses. “One for the road?” he offers, his voice smooth, his smile disarming. He hands one glass to Thor and one to you.  

Thor eyes Bucky suspiciously before taking a sip. You hesitate for a moment, but under Bucky’s expectant gaze, you take a small sip too.  

Before you know it, Bucky has his hand on your lower back, steering you gently away from the dancefloor. “C’mon, just for a second,” he says, his voice low and persuasive. “One last moment before you run off.”  

You follow him, oblivious to the subtle exchange of glances between him and Steve.  

The club lights flash around you, and you’re too caught up in the conversation to notice Thor’s steps faltering behind you. Steve quietly steps in, keeping Thor distracted just long enough for Bucky to guide you further away.  

It isn’t until you reach the quieter edge of the club, near the exit, that you realize something is off.  

“Bucky,” you say, blinking as you look around. “Where are we going?”  

Bucky smirks, his hand firm around yours. “Told you, doll. I don’t take no for an answer.”  

Panic rises in your chest, and you yank your hand away, taking a step back. “I have to go back to my friends.”  

Bucky doesn’t let you get far. He grabs your wrist again, his grip just tight enough to make your heart race for an entirely different reason. “Apologize,” he says, his voice lower now, laced with something darker. “For trying to leave me.”  

Your pulse hammers in your ears, and suddenly, the warmth in his eyes seems a little more dangerous. “Bucky…” you whisper, trying to pull free, but he refuses to let go.  

Behind you, Steve stands with his arms crossed, his smirk never fading. He knows exactly how this will play out.  

Your heart pounds as you take a step back from Bucky, trying to create some distance, but you don't get far. Your back collides with something solid, someone solid.  

Steve.  

His arms snake around your waist, holding you firmly against him. You freeze as he rests his chin lightly on top of your head, his breath fanning over your hair. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes your stomach twist, and you can feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him.  

Bucky watches the scene unfold with a lazy smile, his eyes dark with amusement. “Relax, doll,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I already told you, you’re my girl now.”  

You shake your head, your voice shaky but firm. “Bucky, you promised. You said we’d stay in the club.”  

Bucky’s grin widens, his fingers reaching out to brush against your cheek. “Yeah, well... there’s been a slight change in the promise.”  

You stiffen, your mind racing. Steve's arms tighten subtly, his hold secure but not forceful. Yet.

It’s clear he’s enjoying this, the way his body presses against yours, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You’re way too tense,” he says with a chuckle. “Loosen up, doll.”  

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Thor will come looking for me...”  

Bucky’s expression softens into something almost pitying. “Thor?” He tilts his head. “Sweetheart, he won’t be coming for you.”  

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”  

Steve chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening just slightly as if to keep you in place. “Let’s just say... he’s taking a nap.”  

Your stomach drops. “What did you do?”  

Bucky waves a dismissive hand. “Nothing too bad, doll. He’s fine. Just a little... distracted.” His smirk deepens. “That means it’s just us now.”  

Your pulse races as realization sinks in. They had planned this from the beginning.  

Steve finally releases you, only to grab your hand with a firm grip, and Bucky takes your other hand, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that feels both soothing and possessive. Together, they lead you toward the exit.  

You glance back over your shoulder, searching for a way out, for Wanda, Natasha, anyone, but the crowd of strangers swallows the dancefloor whole, and just like that, you’re outside.  

Under the cool night air, Bucky leans in, his lips grazing your ear. “Told you, doll. No one’s taking you from me. You are my girl now!”  

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

[thezombieprostitute]

Good Friend

Summary: Steve Rogers visits your quiet little town.

A/N: Loosely based on a dream from last night. Entirely written on my phone.

Warnings: Implied kidnapping and stalking. Please let me know if I missed any.

Your little town was all astir; Steve Rogers, Captain America, was visiting! No one knows what made him decide to come to this small town in the middle of nowhere, but the mayor and city council weren't going to ask too many questions.

Initially you'd thought about not attending his little signing party, certain it would be overwhelming for you and maybe him. But when your online friends found out you were in the area they begged you to get an autograph for them. They'd always been such good friends, how could you say no?

When it's finally your turn for the signatures you're caught off guard by how handsome he is in person. There's an aura about him that cameras just can't capture.

"Hi," he smiles at you. Seeing the pictures in your hand he points to them, "who am I making them out to?"

You give him the names of you friends and he gets to signing them. You were scared he'd be tired of doing this by the time you got to him. Scared you were asking for too many. Scared he wouldn't be as nice in person. But he's putting your fears to rest

"Can I ask which of these is for you?" he asks, his cheeks a little pink.

"Oh, they're not for me," you shake you head, cheeks feeling warm.

His smile drops just enough that you notice. "You're not a fan?"

"I am!" you quickly reassure. "I just didn't want to risk asking too much of your time. Besides, they just get photos. I actually get to see you in person.'

His full smile returns. "Your friends are very lucky to have someone as kind as you."

"That's so nice of you to say." You have trouble keeping eye contact as your cheeks heat up. "I...I should get going. You've got a lot of fans and I don't want to be the reason someone doesn't get their time with you."

He bids you goodbye and you're so flustered by how your name sounds in his voice you don't register that you never gave him your name.

------

As he watches you leave, Steve is even more determined to follow through on his plan.

When he was first entering the realm of social media, under a false name per the suggestion of SHIELD, you'd taken the time to help him find his way. You taught him the "language" and gave him good advice on proper conduct. You never questioned why he didn't already know these things.

He'd found your real name and location and decided to see if you were as kind in person as you were online. You did not disappoint.

In a few weeks, when the hubbub of his visit has died down, he'll take you to your new home. With him.

Tagging: @alicedopey ; @delicatebarness ; @icefrozendeadlyqueen ; @irishhappiness ; @kmc1989; @lokislady82 ; @peaches1958 ; @ronearoundblindly

[holylulusworld]

The contract masterlist

Summary: Steve wants your brother to sweeten the deal.

Pairing: Soft Dark Mafia!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, scared/shy reader, physical abuse/violence against the reader (not Steve), mafia au, violence, kind of human trafficking?, mentions of cheating, more to be added

The contract (1)

The contract (2)

The contract (3)

The contract (4)

The contract (5)

TBA

[togrowoldinv]

Secret Santa

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets your name for Secret Santa, she tries to think of the perfect gift for you

Note: I’m back! Well, technically I never left but I’ve been up to my ears in studying for the cpa exam. I took what was hopefully my last exam today, and let Natasha come back into my brain lol. Enjoy this holiday fluff!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Okay, on to the topic of the Christmas party. What if do Secret Santa names this year?” Tony suggests.

“What does that entail?” Steve asks what everyone else is thinking.

“Well, we’d all write down a few things we like. It gives the person who gets your name an idea of what you want,” Tony explains.

“I like it,” Steve agrees. “What does everyone think?”

A chorus of sures and okays follow.

“Y/n, can you take care of it?” Steve asks.

You agree easily. You’ve always loved the holidays so the idea of helping the Avengers have a good one is exciting. Especially since it’s your first year with the team.

You get everyone’s names on notecards and spend the rest of the day getting everyone to fill them out with gift ideas. Wanda helps you collect them from the team before the next team meeting the next morning.

“Okay, everyone I have all of the names here. Draw one and whatever you get is what you have. No switching allowed,” you tell the team, mainly Tony.

You eyeball him as you say it and he at least pretends to look offended before he grins.

When you get to Natasha, you smile at her shyly.

“What if I get my own name?” She asks with a smirk.

She reaches into the bowl of names before you can answer. Her expression is unreadable as she looks at the card.

“Good?” You ask.

“It’s good,” Natasha replies.

You move on and keep going until everyone’s been picked. You got Wanda, which should be super easy.

On the other hand, Natasha got you. She thinks about it for a few days before deciding that she doesn’t want to get you anything on your list. She decides to go to your best friend on the team for advice.

“You got a second?” Natasha asks, knocking on Wanda’s open doorframe.

“Oh,” the girl is caught off guard. She doesn’t spend much time talking to Nat aside from about missions. “Sure.”

Natasha walks in and closes the door behind her. She sits down at Wanda’s desk across from where the girl sits on her bed.

“Is everything okay?” Wanda asks.

Natasha doesn’t immediately assure her it is and she gets worried. “So, I got y/n for secret santa.”

Wanda’s tenseness goes away and she can’t help a little smirk forming as Nat is talking.

“And I know she has things on this list,” she says. “But I don’t think a single one of these things is good enough for her. I don’t know what I should get for her, but she deserves the best gift.”

“Natasha,” Wanda interjects. “You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“Oh,” Nat expresses. “She- well she loves Christmas, right? I saw how excited she’s been about the tree and then the secret Santa and the movies. All of it. I want it to be special for her.”

“That’s really sweet,” Wanda says. “You like her, huh.”

“Can you help me?” Natasha keeps the focus on the conversation at hand. She does like you though.

“Of course. Anything for y/n.”

“Thank you,” Natasha says, feeling the relief set in.

The two brainstorm ideas for a couple of hours. When Wanda shows late for your usual nightly dinner, she wears a grin.

“What?” You ask her. “Fun with Vision?”

Wanda chuckles and you share a laugh with her.

“Who’d you get for Secret Santa?” You ask her.

“I can’t tell you,” she says.

“Sure you can.”

“Who’d you get?” She counters.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Sure you can,” she mocks you.

The rest of the days leading up to Christmas go by fast. Unfortunately everyone had to go on a mission on Christmas Eve, so you’re all exhausted on Christmas Day morning.

Tony postponed the gift exchange until later in the day, and everyone is much more rested by then.

Even with the hustle and bustle, you notice Natasha hasn’t made it to the get together yet.

“Hey Clint, where’s Nat?” You ask the archer. He was working closely with her on the mission.

“I think she just needed to take some time alone.”

“Oh, okay.”

You go about the party for a few more minutes before deciding to go check on Natasha.

You go to her room and knock on the door. She takes a minute to answer, but finally the door opens to reveal a distressed Natasha.

Her hair is messy and she’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t seen her this way before.

“Hey,” you say. “We missed you down there.”

“Sorry,” she says. “Uh, come in.”

Her room is clean and exactly like you expected it. There are a few photos of Natasha and Clint’s family on a dresser, but that’s really the extent of the decor.

“Are you okay?” You ask her.

“Yeah, just a bad mission.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Nat says. “It’s a me problem.”

“Hey, we’re teammates. And- we’re friends. It’s an us problem.”

Natasha can’t help but smile a little at that. You make her feel better by just being here.

“I don’t think I’m in the party mood. The guys aren’t so sensitive to my feelings.”

“Hey, that’s alright. I’ll just take your gift if you want me to. I’ll make sure it gets to the right person,” you explain.

“Oh, actually I had you. And I didn’t get a gift off of your list.”

Your eyes go wide. You didn’t even consider that Nat would get you. Thinking back to your list, you hope she didn’t find anything you wrote down as lame.

“Not because they were bad ideas. It’s just- I wanted to do something more meaningful,” she reads your mind.

Natasha crosses the room and grabs a box out of her closet. It’s wrapped nicely.

“You wrapped that?” You ask.

“You seem surprised,” Nat jokes. “I have skills.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” you say before blushing a bit. She smirks.

She hands you the box and you sit down on the edge of her bed together to open it. Nat watches you shyly as you open the gift.

“Natasha,” you whisper as you reveal the gift.

It’s a beautiful locket necklace.

“Open it,” she says.

On the inside of the locket, there’s a photo of your family. Your favorite photo to be exact.

“How did you-“

“Wanda helped,” Nat says. “I know you’ve been missing home since you joined the Avengers. I thought you’d want to have a piece of them with you on missions.”

“Natasha, that’s- well that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, fighting back tears.

“You like it then?”

“I love it. Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Will you put it on me?”

Nat nods and takes the necklace from your hands. She unclasps it and stands behind you to put it around your neck. Her hands are gentle as she clasps the necklace and brushes against your skin.

“Beautiful,” she says when you stand and face her.

“You are, yeah,” you surprise her by saying. You dare to reach out for her hand. She takes it easily and interlocks your fingers. “I wish I got you something.”

“Oh, I think you just gave me the best gift,” Natasha says.

“I did?”

“Mhm,” she confirms. “Come here.”

Natasha leans in, pulling you closer to her with the hand that’s free by the back of your neck. Her gentle hand from before has a bit more urgency.

You can’t help but smile as she kisses your lips. Finally, both of you think. Finally.

“Merry Christmas, y/n,” Natasha says when she breaks for air.

“Merry Christmas, Natasha.”

It doesn’t take long before you add a photo of Natasha to the other side of your locket. She’s with you always. Right beside your heart.

[orellazalonia]

Caged in Comfort (Pt. 11)

Summary: During a routine medical checkup, you begin to panic as memories of the lab resurface, leaving you clinging to Bucky for comfort and safety. Despite Steve’s quiet guilt and Bruce’s gentle approach, it’s Bucky who anchors you through the fear. (Dark Stucky x little!reader)

Warnings/Disclaimer: Minors DNI. Dark Stucky. Age Regression. Forced Age Regression (References to Drugging/Drugged milk, Forced little space). Angst. Hurt/comfort. Stockholm Syndrome in the future likely. You are responsible for the media you consume.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Caged in Comfort Masterlist | Previous | Next

It started that morning, with the soft shuffle of blankets and the creak of the door.

You were curled up on the couch in the living room, knees drawn to your chest beneath the soft cotton of the pastel outfit they’d dressed you in that morning, ruffled sleeves, patterned leggings, and those socks with the tiny bows that always made you frown.

Bucky had carried you out here earlier, gently, one arm under your legs and the other around your back, whispering quiet things that didn’t need a response even though you were more conscious than you have been in a while.

Steve was there too, not far, but not close either. He seemed to be always hovering nowadays. But he didn’t sit on the couch though. He was near the kitchen currently, pretending to check something on the counter, though his eyes kept drifting over to you like he couldn’t help it. You didn’t meet them.

Meanwhile, Bucky crouched in front of you, voice low and calm. “Hey, sweetheart. Gonna need you to come with me for a bit today.”

You blinked up at him slowly, pacifier still in your mouth. You didn’t answer, just stared at him. You weren’t afraid exactly, but more unsure and guarded.

He didn’t push, waiting patiently for your response.

After a few seconds, you slipped the paci out and asked in a whisper, “Where?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Checkup,” He said carefully. “We just wanna make sure you’re okay. Bruce is a doctor, he’s not gonna hurt you.”

Your shoulders stiffened.

Doctor.

That word made your stomach twist.

You shrank deeper into the couch, pulling the blanket over yourself more. “No.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t scold. He sat back on the floor instead, lowering himself to your level completely. “I know. I know it sounds bad, but it won’t be like before. It’s not a lab, it’s just… a quiet room. No tanks or straps. Just someone to make sure you’re healthy.”

You didn’t move.

Steve stepped more into the room, slower yet watching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of guilt, hesitation, and maybe even jealousy. Like he wanted to step in, wanted to fix it, but couldn’t find the words anymore.

Maybe he knew you wouldn’t trust him to say them and maybe he didn’t trust himself to try.

“We don’t have to go now,” Bucky offered after a pause. “But you should eat a little first, yeah? Something soft. Then we’ll bring one of your stuffies. You can pick.”

You still didn’t answer. But eventually, you let him help you up.

You picked the little worn elephant from the armrest and clutched it to your chest. Bucky gave you time. He helped warm up oatmeal, added a little cinnamon and a drizzle of honey like you liked, and let you eat in silence while he sat nearby. He even let you feed yourself and only occasionally wiped your face with a napkin.

Meanwhile, Steve lingered at the edge of the room. His hands were on his hips, like he was about to say something but when your eyes flicked toward him briefly, his mouth closed again.

Maybe he saw the way you leaned into Bucky instead. How you looked at him now when something made your chest tighten.

You heard Steve sigh softly, almost inaudibly, then step away.

Once you’d finished the oatmeal, Bucky crouched again and wiped your mouth with a warm cloth, gentle and soothing. “There you go. Still doing okay?”

You nodded, hesitant and quiet.

He didn’t ask again. Just stood and reached out his hand as you took it.

Together, you made your way down the hall. Your fingers clutched the elephant with your other free hand buried in Bucky’s. He didn’t rush. He didn’t try to distract you either. Just stayed steady.

But as you neared the hallway where the medical doors waited, even if they weren’t metal and sterile like the ones from before, your breathing shifted into something shallower and uneven. Your feet began to drag, body slowing instinctively like a tether was pulling you backward. Bucky noticed it first. His hand, warm and steady around yours, gave a light squeeze.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He spoke gently, crouching slightly so he could look at you. “It’s alright. It’s just a checkup, remember? No one’s gonna hurt you.”

But his voice had barely registered through the loud, pulsing panic in your ears. You saw white walls ahead, heard the quiet hum of lights, smelled something too clean. It was too much like then. The world blurred at the edges.

Steve had followed behind the two of you, trying to give space at first, but when he saw your shoulders tense and your lip wobble, he stepped forward. His expression softened, regret flickering in his gaze. He crouched beside Bucky but when he reached for you, you took a staggering step back.

“No–” You choked out, eyes wide, clinging tighter to Bucky’s hand instead. Your fingers curled around his like he was the only thing anchoring you.

Steve’s hand froze mid-air, then slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, honey,” He said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you…”

But you turned your face into Bucky’s side, barely able to breathe as tears already began spilling over. Bucky wrapped an arm around you immediately, lifting you slightly as he murmured, “I’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

Steve straightened, jaw tense with shame written across his face. He didn’t try again. Just stood behind the two of you, quieter now, watching as Bucky shifted your weight into his arms and carried you the rest of the way. His touch was secure and grounding, the steady thud of his heart the only sound you focused on.

The door to the medical wing clicked open. It wasn’t a lab actually, but the scent of antiseptic lingered in the corners, and the soft beep of equipment echoed too loud in your ears. You tensed all over again.

“Easy,” Bucky whispered, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You’re not alone.”

Your breath hitched when you saw the faint shine of medical tools on the counter. Bucky felt it and adjusted his grip, one hand gently shielding your gaze as he guided you further in. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, your soft whimper barely audible as you clutched your stuffed animal.

Steve trailed behind quietly. His shoulders were stiff, hands tucked in his jacket pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. He stayed by the door.

When you all made it inside one of the rooms, a soft voice greeted you. “Hi there.” It was gentle, almost fatherly. “I’m Bruce. You don’t know me yet, but I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”

Bucky turned slightly so Bruce could see you, but didn’t put you down. You didn’t respond back.

“She’s nervous,” Bucky said, tone firm. “Not used to this, we’re… takin’ it slow.”

Bruce gave a small nod. “Of course. I just want to make sure she’s alright, that’s all. She can stay with you the whole time. I’ll just be listening to her heartbeat, maybe checking her breathing, things like that. Deal?”

You still didn’t answer as you remained tucked close into Bucky’s shirt. But when his hand found yours again and gave it a reassuring squeeze, your fingers curled back around his. That was enough for Bruce.

“I’ll talk you both through it before anything happens,” Bruce said softly, backing off a few steps to give space. “And if she gets overwhelmed, we can take a break.”

Bucky guided you toward the soft padded bench against the wall instead of the examination table. He sat down with you in his lap, letting you stay curled in the safety of his arms. Your stuffed elephant was placed beside the both of you like a guard.

Steve lingered nearby, eyes flicking to you and then away again. The way you flinched from him earlier, the way you hadn’t even looked back, weighed heavy in his chest.

“She didn’t used to be like this,” He murmured under his breath.

Bucky didn’t look at him. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

You didn’t hear their exchange. Your body was still on edge, but Bucky’s steady heartbeat beneath your ear and the low, calm tone of Bruce’s voice gradually steadied your breathing. Still, you stayed wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, your body smaller somehow, sunken and quiet.

Bucky didn’t move to shift you, didn’t try to “fix” your posture. He just let you be.

“Okay,” Bruce finally said, his voice soft, “I’ll talk through what I’m going to do first, just like I said. That way there are no surprises.”

Your grip on Bucky tightened slightly as your head gave a tiny nod, more a reflex than choice. You were trying to be brave. Trying to stay in your little bubble where things were simpler, safer but this was already starting to feel like before.

“I’d like to listen to her heart and lungs first,” Bruce spoke. “Over clothes is fine and then I’ll check her eyes, ears, all external stuff.”

“She doesn’t like when things beep by the way,” Bucky added, protective instinct flashing through his voice.

“The machines can be muted,” Bruce said right away. “I already did so in this room, just in case.”

That helped a little even though you were trembling. Your breathing wasn’t panicked, but more shallow and strained. The scent of rubbing alcohol and clean linens had already started to pick at the back of your mind.

Bucky shifted you gently so he could lean back more comfortably against the bench, cradling you against him like you were made of glass. Steve hadn’t said a word since that muttered comment earlier. He leaned on the far wall now, arms crossed but uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be part of this. And maybe he wasn’t.

Bruce stepped a little closer but kept a careful distance.

“May I try now?” He asked you, not Bucky. “Just a listen, you can stay right where you are.”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t shake your head either.

“She’s saying yes,” Bucky translated, watching you. “I don’t think she’s gonna talk right now.”

Bruce gave a small, understanding smile. “Alright.”

Slowly, Bruce approached. He showed you the stethoscope first, hanging from his hand like a necklace, harmless and quiet. When you didn’t jerk away, he came to a slow stop in front of you and Bucky.

“This might be a little cold, but I’ll be quick.”

You made a soft sound that sounded half whine, half hiccup, but you didn’t bolt.

The moment the cold round piece touched the fabric of your outfit over your chest, you shrank into Bucky with a soft whimper. However, you didn’t run.

“Good job,” Bucky whispered. “So brave, sweetheart. You’re doin’ perfect.”

Bruce moved the stethoscope carefully, listening. His brow furrowed just slightly at how rapid your heart still was.

“She’s under a lot of stress,” He said quietly. “Nothing dangerous, but we should still go slow.”

“We are,” Bucky said, just a touch too sharp.

Bruce gave a small nod and retreated again once he was finished.

You were breathing harder now. Still not full-blown panicked, but it was building.

“We can take a break here,” Bruce offered. “Or try again another day.”

“She needs this,” Bucky murmured. “But only what she can handle.”

You whimpered when Bruce picked up the otoscope next, that tiny ear-checking flashlight tool. The shape alone reminded you of lab instruments and that was enough to undo more of your calm.

You turned your face into Bucky’s shoulder again and whispered something muffled.

“Say it again, baby,” He murmured.

“Dun’ like him…”

Steve’s head snapped up from across the room. He thought you meant him. He nearly stepped forward.

But Bucky gently angled your face back out, hand warm against your cheek. “You mean Bruce?” He clarified, voice low, careful.

You hesitated, then nodded.

Bruce paused with the instrument in his hand, then immediately set it back down.

“No problem. We can skip that part.”

The tension in the room dropped just a bit at Bruce’s calm response. You didn’t let go of Bucky’s hand the entire time, not even as the exam continued in quieter increments with soft-spoken questions and gentle touches. The occasional small light passed over your eyes along with the quick check of your reflexes.

When things grew overwhelming, Bucky would quietly distract you, pointing out funny shapes in Bruce’s charts or tapping your fingers in a pattern that made you giggle. They even managed to get a small amount of blood drawn after promising you another trip outside if you behaved.

Eventually, the exam was over. You sat on the bench by yourself now with your legs swinging softly, a red-and-yellow swirled sucker tucked in your cheek. A reward for being so good, Bruce had said. It made your hands feel busy and your thoughts slow down.

Bucky stood close by, crouched to help you put your shoes back on. Steve lingered at the far end of the room now, quiet and hesitant. Not because he wasn’t allowed near you, but because it had become increasingly clear you didn’t want him there right now.

Bruce gently shut the tablet in his hand and motioned subtly for the two men to follow him toward the far side of the room, out of your immediate earshot. Bucky gave your knee a reassuring squeeze and promised he’d be right back before following.

Bruce’s expression was more serious now, the playful doctor mask dropped.

“She’s physically stable. No signs of long-term malnutrition, dehydration, or vitamin deficiencies.” He tapped the tablet’s corner, brows drawn. “But she’s been over-medicated. Those regression enhancers, whatever synthetic variation of benzodiazepines or emotional suppressant you’ve used, are still showing up in her blood work.”

Steve exhaled, jaw tight. “How long till it clears out?”

“She’s on a lower dose now, right?” Bruce asked, glancing to Bucky for confirmation.

“Yeah. We cut it to half two days ago. She hasn’t been fighting us as much.”

Bruce gave a tight nod. “At that rate, a couple more days and the levels should be negligible. But…”

“But?” Steve’s voice came sharper than intended.

Bruce’s gaze didn’t soften. “But the dependency is already there. Her body’s used to being chemically ‘nudged into littlespace’. It’s become a crutch. You overdid it.”

Steve stiffened. “I was trying to help.”

“You didn’t listen when she started showing signs of being overwhelmed,” Bruce said, without heat but without apology. “That’s not helping, it’s control. She’s attached to Bucky now because Bucky stepped in when she was drowning.”

Bucky, for once, didn’t revel in that victory. He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, the tension low and heavy in his shoulders. “What now?”

Bruce glanced back toward the girl on the bench. You were leaning against the wall, contentedly sucking on your candy, the little stuffed elephant gripped in your hand like a security object.

“She’ll need time to adjust. No more boosters in her milk or bottle. Let her go into that state on her own terms. She needs consistency and someone she trusts at all times.”

Bucky nodded immediately. Steve, slower.

Bruce added, “And I’d suggest she doesn’t meet the others yet. Not until she’s stronger, emotionally and physically.”

The two men exchanged a glance, years of war-bonded brotherhood tangled now with something more complicated. Guilt, care, and concern.

Bruce sighed slowly, packing away his notes. “ You say you want her to feel safe enough to be little? Then start by earning that safety. Because right now, whether you meant well or not, you still took her and pushed her too hard just like the others did. And no amount of good intentions changes that”

They didn’t argue. There wasn’t much room left for that.

When they walked back over, you blinked up at them.

Steve tried to offer you a soft smile, but you ducked your head, looking down at your stuffed elephant instead. His smile faltered again.

And when Bucky gently reached for your hand without even glancing at Steve, you took it, your hand slipping into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Steve didn’t say anything, just followed a few steps behind as Bucky led you out of the medical wing, his chest aching a little more.

Taglist: @the-ruler-of-death @gaychaoticraccoon @hazydespair @yarn-mony @eviebuggg @phoenix-eclipses @daddysbitchybaby @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @mischiefsemimanaged @eilrahcorac @ana27qz

[honeeysagee]

Long Night?

once again, i'm missing soft!steve. sue me! here's a little context. warnings: very touch depraved Steve, fluff

summary: 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘞𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯. 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵—𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

The screen door creaks and slams, but you don't flinch. You hear him before you see him - boots off, footsteps slow and heavy, shirt already discared and slung over one shouler. You swear he's gotten bigger since you've been staying over these last few weeks.

He smells like the day: sun, hay, sweat, and earth. The kind of scent that sink into your and stays.

Steve pauses in the doorway, catching his breath, eyes meeting yours with a softness that speaks volumes. Without a word, he moves toward the kitchen, the familiar rhythm of his movements grounding you.

You watch as he fills the kettle, sets it on the stove, then leans against the counter.

"Long day?" You asks, while wearing his shirt and typing away on some report you barely had interest in. No, you were distracted by the 6'2 sweating mess that just stalked through the house.

Steve glances over, water pooling at the corner of his gaze. "Yeah," He says, voice low and measured. "They called again today."

You stop typing, "Government?" You prompted gently.

He nods, a tired exhale fills the room entirely. "That 'New Avenger' nonsense. They want me to lead. Be the symbol again," He picks up the kettle, no mitten. That's your man right there. "I already told them. I'm not Captain America anymore. Sam is. I don't even know why Bucky agreed to that."

He pours the tea in the mug, lifts it towards you. "I need this." He murmurs - cradling the mug and enjoying the warmth. Slowly, he makes his way to the sofa then spreads his legs far apart until he's comfortable. Yet, you also knew it was an invitation.

You notice his fingers twitch, restless, thumb brushing the empty space beside him almost desperately.

You wait.

"Bunny, lap." Steve demands so softly - you thought he asked first, but you knew better. Since reconnecting, he's been a little demanding and needy with touch, but you didn't mind.

You set your laptop aside and slide onto his lap. He breathes out a shaky sigh, arms easing around your waist, fingers pressing into fabric like he’s anchoring himself to something real.

You rest your head against his shoulder, and he loosens the tension in his neck, pressing forward just enough to deepen the contact.

He breathes in, slower now, each exhale softer than the last—letting the quiet evening fill the space between you. Then your lips brush the side of his neck, softly, a tender question in the warmth of the moment.

Steve stills for a heartbeat, then wraps his arms around you tighter, one hand gently tilting your head so he can press a careful, slow kiss just behind your ear. The movement is gentle, as if he’s rediscovering the meaning of touch.

His lips trace small, feather-light kisses along the nape of your neck. Each one is deliberate—silent, loving. He murmurs your nickname into the quiet, murmurs that linger like a secret: “Bunny.”

The world beyond the sofa—fields, obligations, expectations—fades. There’s just this: soft lips, the scent of earth and tea, the warmth of Steve’s arms, and the unspoken promise that here, tonight, touch is enough.

[andysbubba]

needy

summary | the two times ari needs you, and that one time you needed him.

pairing | ari levinson x reader

warnings | just a tiny bit of angst, an emotionally constipated ari levinson, something about unrequited love and finally a bestfriends to lovers trope!

A/N | hi, i’m haney and i’ve been gone from this app for a long time and i missed writing so here’s a little story that has been ageing in my drafts that i finally finished! hope u enjoy this read! ❤️

—————

ONE

The first time: when he was drunk

"Don't go." He starts, his voice already sounding so vulnerable that you know you'd give him anything he'd ask for. "Please."

You stop in your steps, the hand on the doorknob dropping down to your side and you turn around to face him. You helped him get into bed after a long night out, and you were planning to leave or maybe just crash on his couch since its already late and you're too lazy to get back home.

"Don't have to stay the whole night if you don't want to. Just keep me company till I sleep."

"Okay, grumpy." You traced back your steps, and you tug your jacket off, leaving it on his nightstand before you climb up his bed and settle in right beside him.

His eyes stayed on you the whole time and he shifts closer to your side.

"How ya feelin', grump?"

"I'm tired." He snuggles up into your side and throws an arm around your stomach. "How are you always so warm and soft?" he questioned, like the question had been haunting him.

You hum at his question and raise your hand up to his head and run your fingers through his hair. "How are you always so cuddly when you're drunk?"

He mumbles out something you couldn't really understand and he turns his head to nuzzle into the fabric of your shirt.

You nod mindlessly, paying no attention to what he’s trying to say and ran your fingers through his hair, watching him drift off — heavy limbs, steady breath, muttered nonsense.

---

When you're up the next morning, the spot beside you was already empty. You had no doubt Ari was nursing a shitty hangover from all the drinks he had yesterday. He called you pretty late last night with his words all slurry and draggy. So naturally as his friend, you went to the bar to pick him up and bring him home.

He was grumbling in the kitchen, trudging around with heavy footsteps. As you entered the kitchen, he nods at you in acknowledgement. Too hungover for good mornings.

“How was your date yesterday, twinkie?” he asked, casual, but not really.

You told him it was nice. And he’s cute.

Ari nodded, silent.

He didn’t ask anything else, just rubbed his temple and reached out for the Advil.

You let it go. Pretended not to notice the tight set of his jaw. The way he couldn’t quite look at you.

He didn’t say it, but you knew.

He hated it.

————

TWO

The second time: when his mom was in the hospital

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, bear. I've got you." Ari crashed straight into your arms the moment he spots you striding into the waiting room. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, and his arms tightened around you. His body shakes as tiny, soft sobs leaves his lips and it sounds muffled as he cries into your neck. "I've got you, babe. Just take deep breaths for me, okay?"

He collapsed into your arms like something inside him had snapped. You held him tight, fingers in his hair, whispering that it was okay — even when you weren’t sure it was.

She was in surgery. Something routine, your colleagues had said. But fear doesn’t listen to facts when it’s someone you love on the table.

So you took him up to your office, let him drink your last Capri Sun and eat the Mars bar you’d been saving.

“Apple juice? Really?” he grumbled, straw between his teeth.

“Stop acting like my nephew and maybe I’ll get you a beer next time.”

He didn’t laugh. But he leaned into you. Head on your shoulder. Arms curled close.

You kept scratching at his scalp, trying to quiet the shaking in his chest.

“I want to be there when she wakes up,” he said quietly.

“You will be. I promise. I told them to call me if anything comes up."

———

When you brought him to the recovery room, his mom lit up.

"Y/n, sweetheart!"

You smiled, embracing her with the same warmth she greeted you with.

“Mrs Levinson!”

The permanent frown on his face eased, softened into something you didn’t see often — a smile. Small, but real. His shoulders dropped, a visible exhale of all the fear he’d carried since the phone call.

“She’s really okay?” he asked, his voice cracking even as he tried to hold himself together.

You nodded from your spot at the foot of the bed, watching the way he reached for her hand like he still didn’t believe it.

“She’s more than okay, bear.”

Mrs. Levinson gave him a tired but loving smile, her thumb brushing his knuckles. “Told you I wasn’t going anywhere yet. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Ari laughed — breathy and weak. And you could see it in his eyes, just for a flicker of the little boy he used to be, still afraid of losing the people he loves.

You stepped back a little, giving them their space, heart pulling in your chest.

Because you’d never seen Ari cry before that morning. Not like that. Not that kind of broken.

But he let you hold him.

He called you.

He let himself fall apart in your arms — the same arms he once called just “warm and soft,” like that was all they were.

But now?

Now he knew what they meant.

Now you knew what they meant.

It wasn’t just the comfort.

It was safety.

It was home.

————

A while later, you both stepped out of the hospital room, and Ari was quiet. Too quiet.

The halls buzzed with fluorescent light and the low murmur of hospital life, but he walked beside you like he couldn’t feel any of it. His hand brushed yours once. Didn’t take it. Just… brushed it. Like a thought half-formed.

You stopped just outside the vending machines.

“You okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the linoleum floor.

Then:

“You didn’t have to show up today.”

You blinked. “Of course I did.”

“I know but…” He swallowed. His voice went hoarse. “You had a date. With Barber. You could’ve ignored the call.”

“I never would.”

He finally looked at you. And God, the ache in his eyes — it could flatten cities.

“I don’t know what we are,” he said, low. “I don’t even know what I can be to you.”

Your breath caught.

A pause. He shifts his weight, stares at the floor like it did something wrong.

“You always do,” he says, like it’s a problem. “Show up. Stay. Even when I don’t say anything. Even when I’m… not exactly good company.”

You don’t say anything, just wait. Because you know him. You know.

Then, quieter:

“I keep thinkin’ one day you’ll stop.”

You blink.

He finally looks at you — and the look in his eyes wrecks you.

“I wouldn’t blame you.”

—————

THREE

The one time you needed ari

You’d been holding it all in for weeks — the weight of pretending everything was fine, juggling your job, Ari’s complicated family situation, and your own swirling mess of feelings.

The late nights at the hospital, watching Ari pacing the halls, biting his lip every time he got a call from his mother’s doctors.

The phone calls you got from Ari, voice tight and rough, asking about your day, but really needing to hear a calm voice to steady his own nerves.

And then there was Dr. Andy Barber — the “date” you told Ari about just to keep things simple, to keep him at arm’s length. But every time you saw Andy, you felt a pang — a reminder that Ari was watching, waiting, and the tension between you was growing unbearable.

That day at the hospital, you were exhausted, emotionally raw from being the “strong one” for everyone — for Ari, for his mother, even for yourself. When the surgery was over, the relief should have settled in.

But instead, when you stepped outside and saw Ari — looking smaller somehow, his usual grumpy armor cracked — all the fear, all the loneliness you’d stuffed down came crashing out.

You weren’t just tired of the hospital, the stress, the waiting.

You were tired of pretending you could do it all alone.

And Ari… he was the only person who ever saw through it. You didn’t mean to cry.

You’d planned to smile, say goodbye, maybe even tell him to call you later. But your body betrayed you the moment you saw him waiting outside the hospital — leaning against his car, arms crossed, that same tired scowl on his face. The one he always wore when he didn’t know how to say “I’m worried about you.”

“Ari,” you tried to say, but your voice cracked right through the middle.

He looked up.

And that’s all it took.

The tightness in your chest collapsed, and everything you’d held in — all the stress, the exhaustion, the pretending — came pouring out in one stupid, gasping breath.

“I can’t—” you started, before your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stop the sob that clawed up your throat.

Ari was at your side before you could hide it. No words, no hesitation. Just two arms wrapping around you, strong and steady and home.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you into him like it was instinct. “Hey, I got you.”

You shook your head against his chest, gripping the front of his jacket like you were drowning.

“I’m so tired, bear.” Your voice was hoarse, barely there. “Everything’s been so much. I didn’t even know how bad it was till I saw you.”

He held you tighter. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other firm around your waist, grounding you like no one else could.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured into your hair. “Not right now. Just let it out, yeah?”

You broke again, face buried in his chest. Ugly sobs, hot tears. And he didn’t flinch. Didn’t let go.

Didn’t run.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, crying into the man who used to sleep on you like a pillow after too many beers. The man who once hated hospitals and late-night phone calls. The man who, for all his quiet, grumpy, impossible ways — always showed up when it counted.

Now, he was the one holding you together.

And it wasn’t until the crying started to slow that you realized he’d been whispering something over and over into your hair, like a prayer he was afraid to say out loud.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

————

He drove you home in silence. One hand on the wheel, the other twitching like it wanted to reach for yours but didn’t dare.

You’d fallen quiet again. Your head leaning against the window. The light of passing streetlamps drawing soft shadows across your face. You looked… wrung out. Tired in a way he couldn’t fix with dumb jokes or aspirin. Not this time.

And Ari hated it. Hated that he couldn’t find the words to make it better. Hated how he wanted to turn the car around and punch the world until it stopped hurting you.

But most of all, he hated the voice in his head that whispered, you’re part of the reason she’s hurting.

Because you were tired. Of carrying everything for everyone. Of being the one people leaned on, cried to, slept against when the nights got too heavy. Including him. Especially him.

He hadn’t thought about what that cost you.

Not until he saw you fall apart in front of him.

And now—now all he could think about was how selfish he’d been. All those nights he called you, drunk and miserable. All those mornings he let you clean up his mess without asking if you were okay.

God, you were always there. And what did he ever give you in return?

His silence. His gruffness. His shoulder on bad days, maybe, but never his whole heart. Because he kept that locked up, buried under excuses like timing and she deserves better.

And now he was afraid he’d waited too long.

When he pulled into your driveway, you didn’t move right away. Just sat there for a moment, blinking slowly.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly.

He nodded, swallowing down the hundred things he wanted to say but couldn’t. “You gonna be okay?”

You nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Just need sleep.”

Another silence. The air between you filled with everything unsaid.

You reached for the door handle. And his hand twitched again—like it wanted to stop you.

But all he said was, “Let me know if you need anything.”

You paused. Glanced back at him. And for a second, something in your eyes flickered. Like maybe you were waiting for him to say something more.

But he didn’t.

So you nodded again. “Goodnight, bear.”

The door shut quietly behind you.

And Ari just sat there, both hands gripping the wheel like he was trying not to fall apart himself.

Because he should’ve said something. Anything.

But he didn’t.

And now he had no idea if you’d come to him the next time you broke.

No idea if he’d blown his only chance to be more than the guy you held up when he was down.

———

He didn’t go home. Drove right past his place and ended up in the parking lot of a 24-hour diner he wasn’t hungry enough to eat at.

The engine ticked as it cooled, the heat from the vents slowly fading while his thoughts did the exact opposite—boiling over.

He replayed the whole thing in his head on loop. The way your voice cracked. The way your shoulders trembled as you finally let yourself fall apart. The way you leaned on him, and he—he just froze.

Useless.

And then you apologized. Like it was some burden, the way your heart had broken in his hands.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighed into the dark.

Goddamn it.

He always thought he’d be ready. That when it happened—when you finally needed someone, him, the way he always needed you—he’d know what to do. He’d hold you like you hold him. He’d say the right thing. Be the right thing.

But he wasn’t.

He just sat there like some emotionally constipated idiot, whispering “hey, hey, I got you,” like that was enough to patch over whatever it was you were unraveling from.

Maybe it was work. Family. Life.

Or maybe it was him.

The thought turned his stomach.

What if it was him? What if all these years of letting you hold him, letting you be his escape, letting himself need you… what if that chipped away at you little by little?

What if this whole time you’d been slowly breaking, and he didn’t notice until it finally shattered in front of him?

He rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

“You idiot,” he muttered to himself. “You selfish, blind…”

The sound of his own voice made his throat tighten. He sat back again, scrubbing at his eyes. His chest ached. Like something there was unspooling—tight and raw and dangerous.

This was bad.

Worse than when he got drunk and said too much. Worse than when Ma was in the hospital and he couldn’t breathe without hearing your voice.

This was the kind of bad that felt like regret growing claws.

Because tonight, you’d cried. And for the first time, he realized he might not be enough. That he might lose you before he ever figured out how to tell you—

No. He wasn’t even going there. Not tonight.

He threw the car into gear and drove off, the night air colder than he remembered.

———

Ari woke up early the next day.

He’d been parked out front for the last 20 minutes.

Not knocking.

Not texting.

Just… sitting. Gripping the to-go tray with both hands like it might give him the words he couldn’t seem to find.

Two coffees. One black. One with that ridiculous caramel drizzle you pretend not to like but always steal sips of anyway. A croissant. A banana muffin. Options. Because he wasn’t sure what kind of day this was going to be, and God forbid he show up empty-handed.

He should’ve left.

But he couldn’t.

You needed him last night.

And now all he could think was: did he mess it up?

He didn’t want to push. Didn’t want to make it about him. But something in him had cracked wide open when he held you—felt you shaking, vulnerable, not saying much at all.

You’d always made space for him.

And now that you’d let him see you, really see you—he realized he’d do anything to be what you needed. Even if he didn’t know how to say that yet.

He finally got out of the car.

Knocked once.

Waited.

You opened the door in a hoodie three sizes too big—probably his—and eyes that looked like they’d barely slept.

Neither of you spoke at first.

Then he lifted the tray slightly.

“Brought options,” he said gruffly.

You stared at it. Then up at him. Then back down.

And then you stepped aside.

“Yeah. Okay.”

————

The coffee was lukewarm by the time either of you said anything.

You leaned against the counter. He hovered awkwardly by the fridge. Like the space between you had grown too wide overnight.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

His head snapped up.

“For what?” he asked, too fast. Too sharp.

“For last night.”

He looked stricken. Like you’d punched him.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for that.”

Your throat tightened.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“To what?” he cut in. “Be human?”

You flinched at the weight of it, at how harsh it sounded.

He ran a hand down his face. Took a breath. Tried again, softer.

“You were always there for me. Always. And I never—I never knew how to say thank you without messing it up.”

You watched him. Something crumbling quietly behind his eyes.

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me,” he said. “I want you to know you can. Even if I don’t say the right thing. Even if I just… sit there and hold you.”

Your hands curled around the coffee cup.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “You did.”

That silence stretched again. Heavy. But this time it felt warmer.

You didn’t fill it. Neither did he.

And maybe that was the point.

Because something had shifted.

You’d cried. He’d stayed.

He brought you coffee. You let him in.

It wasn’t everything.

But it was something.

You turned away to rinse your mug, pretending the sudden sting in your eyes was just from lack of sleep.

Behind you, Ari shifted. You could feel it — the weight of him, the way he hovered like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. Like every word was pressing against his teeth, begging to be let out.

And then—

“Fuck,” he muttered.

You turned.

He wasn’t looking at you. Just stood there, jaw clenched, hands braced on the kitchen counter like he needed something to hold him up.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, quiet but shaking.

Your brows pulled together. “Do what?”

“This,” he said again, louder. “Pretending it’s fine. Pretending I don’t care when you walk away at night. When you laugh at something I say and then look away like you didn’t mean to.”

His voice cracked, just a little.

“I’ve been trying to wait. Give you space. Give myself time to get it together. But last night—”

He looked up at you then, and you wished he hadn’t. Because his eyes were raw. Wrecked.

“Watching you fall apart like that—do you even know what that did to me?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

“I wanted to fix it,” he said, voice thick. “I wanted to take every shitty part of your life and rip it apart with my bare hands. And then I realized I was part of the problem.”

“You’re not—”

“I am,” he snapped. Then softened. “I’ve been leaning on you like you’d never fall. And you did. And I just stood there holding you like it made up for everything I didn’t say.”

The silence between you wasn’t warm now.

It burned.

“I don’t want to be the guy you call when everyone else lets you down,” he whispered. “I want to be the guy who’s there before that. Who gets to love you out loud, not just in the dark.”

Your breath caught.

And maybe that was the last thread. Because he took a step forward, chest rising like it hurt to breathe.

“I’ve been falling for you for longer than I want to admit,” he said. “And I’ve been fucking terrified that if I said it out loud, I’d ruin it. That I’d lose you.”

Another breath.

“But I think not saying it might’ve broken me anyway.”

You didn’t speak.

You couldn’t.

Because your heart was pounding so loud it drowned everything else out.

And Ari — strong, stoic, impossible Ari — just stood there in your kitchen, confessing every truth he’d buried like it was the only thing he had left.

No defenses.

No more waiting.

Just everything you didn’t know you’d been waiting to hear.

You stared at him.

And he stared back — chest heaving, eyes wild, like the words had cost him something he might not get back. Like he’d thrown his heart down at your feet and wasn’t sure if you’d pick it up or step over it.

The silence between you was deafening.

Not empty — no, it was too full. It hummed with all the things you couldn’t say. All the versions of him you’d carried in your chest for months. All the nights you stayed up wondering what it would mean if he ever looked at you like this.

And now he had.

And you didn’t know what to do with it.

Ari’s fingers flexed at his sides, like he was holding himself back from reaching for you.

“I’m not asking for anything,” he said, quieter now. “I just… I needed you to know. Before I ruin it by staying silent too long.”

You swallowed hard.

Because that was the thing — he hadn’t ruined it. Not by loving you. Not by breaking open in the middle of your kitchen. But he didn’t know that. He was bracing for it. For the fallout. Like love was a grenade and he’d just pulled the pin.

“I can leave,” he added, voice thin, already stepping back. “If it’s too much. If I made it weird.”

“No.”

You said it without thinking. Too fast, too loud.

His eyes snapped to yours.

And your next breath came out broken. Because it hit you all at once — he really thought he’d ruined it. That loving you out loud might mean losing you.

“No,” you said again, softer this time. “Don’t you dare leave.”

A pause.

Then — “I’m scared.”

The words left your mouth before you could pull them back. Quiet. Honest. Small.

Ari blinked, like he hadn’t expected that.

“I’m so scared, Ari,” you said, voice shaking. “Because this — you, me — it’s not something I can take lightly. And if I let it be real…”

You trailed off. Couldn’t finish.

But Ari stepped closer again, slow, like he didn’t want to spook you.

“I know,” he murmured. “I’m scared too.”

Another breath.

“But I’d rather be scared with you than brave without you.”

And that — that’s when it cracked wide open again. Not with sobs. Not with shouting.

Just with the quiet understanding that everything was different now.

And it had been for a long time.

-

END.

A/N | uhm…….. whaaaaaattttttt??? my heart is burning.

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

A Lesson in Love

(This is very much a working title)

College!AU

Smarty Pants!Bucky Barnes x Cheerleader!Reader

Synopsis: Being a newly metamorphosed social butterfly certainly has its perks: an amazing friend group, a position on the cheer squad you’ve dreamed about for years, and the ability to make connections everywhere you go. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make you any better at Linear Algebra, enter Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Cursing, awkward reader, flirty Steve Rogers, that’s it i think :)

A/N: Boy howdy has it been a long time since I’ve posted on this hell-site. I only hope that it’s not shit (it’s probably shit)

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“Let’s run through the routine one more time guys!” Your voice travels throughout the gym as you direct your teammates to their original starting position. 

“Umed, you’re doing great but I just wanna see a little more stability when you’re holding Yelena up! Yelena, I saw you falter a little at the end there, try and stay strong please!” Your co-captain, Raj, enthusiastically instructs from beside you. 

As the team resets into their original postions, you hear a bumble of agreements and acknowledgments, making you smile. Becoming the co-captain of your university’s cheer team while only being a sophomore was no small feat and you were absolutely ecstatic to get the call 4 weeks ago congratulating your achievement. 

You remember sitting with Yelena in the quad, under a large willow tree, when you picked up the phone, it took everything in you not to squeal with excitement. Though you and your best friend definitely had a mini celebration after you hung up and spared no shame when you both began to scream and shout your elation. 

“Oh, holy shit Rabbit you did it!” The blonde woman had tightly gathered you into her arms and spun you around, a wild grin adorning her face. 

You hug her back just as tightly, “I can’t believe it! I for sure thought Hasan was gonna get it! I mean, his form was impeccable, and did you see that round-off back handspring that he did? Jesus I almost swooned!” 

Yelena laughs heartily before agreeing, “It takes more than just pretty tricks to be a captain though Rabbit, you didn’t get a full ride for nothin’. C’mon, I’m buying us lunch to celebrate,”

After a couple of weeks of barely believing you were able to make the cut as co-captain, you honed your excitement into determination. You began to focus on perfecting the routine you and Raj had planned for the first football game of the year. At this point, it was only a week away and your confidence in the team soared. They all worked so incredibly hard, and by watching how well they were performing today, you had all the faith in the world in them. After the team had run through it a couple more times, Raj had decided to call it for today seeing as you and a few others had an evening lecture to get to. 

Once you had taken one of the fastest showers in your life and changed into a fresh set of clothes, the process of haphazardly shoving your things into your bag and calculating how fast you’d have to run to make it to your class on time began. The gym you practiced in was damn near close to being on the other side of campus from the building your 5 pm Computational Physics lecture was held in and you’d be in deep shit for showing up late. You were already having a rough time in that class and you knew missing even a few minutes of the lecture intro would put you even further behind. 

“You better hop to it little rabbit or you’ll be laaate~,” Yelena sings as she walks past you, already on her way out.

“I know, I know, I know!” You hastily shove the rest of your belongings into your bag before giving yourself a quick pat down to ensure nothing was missed

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you give a quick goodbye to the rest of the women in the locker room before bolting out. The sun was still shining brightly and there was a late afternoon breeze that cooling as you ran across campus. If you asked any of your friends, they’d laugh and admit that this has become a normal Tuesday and Thursday night for you. None of them would bat an eye whenever they would see your blurred figure and hear a breathless greeting as you sprinted past them. They fully supported your wild determination to overachieve in school while also continuing your advancements in the sport that allowed you to attend such a prestigious institution. 

Your lungs burn as you run up to the large brick building that held the lecture hall, giving a kind hello to a couple of people you knew from your previous class that day. The inconsistent squeak of your sneakers on the linoleum floor can be heard echoing throughout the arched hallway as you try and manage a professional-looking speedwalk. A large sigh of relief is released when you see the double doors to the lecture hall are still open, meaning the class hasn’t started yet. Your pace and breath both slow as you enter the quiet space. As soon as you cross the threshold to the large room, there's a quiet call of your name that catches your attention. You grin and turn to your right to see a group of fellow students all giving you hushed greetings and a few congratulations on getting here in time. 

“You made it in time, Honey Bee! M’ proud of you,” Steve, the blond-haired, blue-eyed captain of the football team, greets you from his aisle seat and holds his hand out as he gives you a wide smile. 

“Hi Stevie,” You smile and take his hand, allowing him to tug you closer, “I sprinted all the way here, you’d think I’d be used to the cardio by now but it still kills me,” 

Steve lets out a light chuckle, “if you want I can start trainin’ with you in the mornings. Or tutor you in time management,” 

You jokingly roll your eyes at his comment and give his hand a light squeeze, “My time management skills are primo, Champ. That’s why I’m here on time, thank you very much,”  

He snorts loudly before nodding his head, “yeah okay Honey Bee, if you say so. Unfortunately, even though you’re ‘on time,’ the whole hall is filled except for a seat up front,”

“That’s okay! You know I like making new friends,” You go to pull your hand from his and find your seat but are stopped by another quick tug.

“Hey, you still wanna go to the cafe with all of us after class? I’ll get ya some lemon pound cake for your troubles,”

You pretend to think about the proposition before giving your answer, “I guess if there's gonna be lemon pound cake involved, I could make an appearance,” 

Steve gives you a dazzling smile, his bright blue eyes developing crows feet as he looks up at you from his seat, “Awesome, I’ll see you after class then, honey,” 

Before you pull away, Steve brings your hand up and turns it, giving the inside of your wrist a soft kiss, “Egh Steve, you’re so sappy sometimes,” You mumble and pull your hand away and silently will the heat rising in your neck and cheeks to go away. 

“Only for you Honey Bee!” You hear the smugness in his voice as you turn to walk down the stairs that separate each side of the large auditorium. 

Steve was right when he said there was only one seat left and you feel a small pang of nerves in your chest as you realize you’d be sitting next to someone you hadn’t had the chance to talk to yet. You pride yourself on your social skills, seeing as though in high school and all the years before, you had been a shy, nervous wreck in front of anyone you didn’t know. None of your recent friends knew how closed off you had been since they had only seen you in your ‘flourishing social butterfly’ phase. 

As you approach the last available seat in the lecture hall you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the stress of class as well as the prospect of any awkward conversations. When you arrive at your destination, a small furrow knits your brows together as you stare down at the chair. 

“Um, excuse me, is it alright if I sit here? There aren’t any other seats left,” Your voice is hushed as you try and get the attention of the person who has their bag sitting in the theater seat. 

He doesn’t seem to hear you, too caught up with the conversation he was having with his friend in the next seat over. The only reaction you get is a disinterested glance from the woman your target was talking to. Your nose scrunches up in displeasure as you first glare at the person who had clearly ignored you, then at the brunette who’s completely unaware of your presence.

You clear your throat a bit and try again, “Excuse me? Sir?” 

The brunette jumps a bit in his seat and you’re quickly met with startlingly blue eyes that are filled with confusion, “Uh, yeah?”

Your lips pull into a soft smile and you glance back down at the chair before focusing back up on the man, “Is it okay if I sit here? There don’t seem to be any free seats left in the hall,” 

The man’s eyes widen and he does a quick glance between you and his bag before yanking it out of the seat and plopping it in between his legs, “I am so sorry, of course you can! I-I didn’t realize anyone else would be coming,”

A light laugh of surprise bursts from your lips at his apologetic reaction, “It’s okay, it’s my fault for getting here so late anyways,” you give him a kind smile before sitting down and taking your laptop out and setting it on the small fold out table.

You lean back down to search your bag for your charger and a few other things. As you're searching through your bag, you hear a quiet chuckle beside you and you can’t help but turn your head back up to look at your neighbor. He notices your confused look and motions towards your laptop that was covered in various stickers. 

“I really like that one,” there’s a wide smile on his face as he points to a sticker depicting a frog inside of a heart that said ‘commit crimes’ in cute bubble letters. 

A grin makes it’s way onto your face and you nod your head in agreement, “it’s one of my favorites too! I really like this one as well,” you point to another sticker that shows a little mushroom person riding atop a black cat. 

Before the brunette can respond, your professor finally begins to start class, startling the both of you into silence as you ready yourself for any note-taking that needs to be done. As the professor started going over this week's subject matter, which happened to be matric eigenvalue problems, your palms already began to sweat in nervousness. You took your hands from atop the keyboard of your laptop and placed them down onto your thighs, lightly balling them in and out of fists to ease your stress. You had been introduced to matrices in your last semester, but to add a new formula to the mix made you nervous enough to forget any prior knowledge you had stored away. 

Throughout the lecture you had to continuously remind yourself that lots of people are probably having issues with the current topic. However, that voice of reassurance had gotten quieter and quieter as you noticed everyone around you quickly typing or scribbling down notes without hesitation. No one had asked a question and with a quick glance at your laptops clock, you find there to be only 10 minutes left of class. You nervously shift around in your seat and focus on typing down the finishing notes when you feel a pair of eyes set on you. 

You nervously glance up and to the side to catch a fleeting glimpse of your neighbor quickly averting his eyes. The heat that flares up in your neck and cheeks is almost unbearable as you realize he knows that you’re struggling, can physically feel how lost and confused you are with the subject. You immediately become tense and your hands once again leave their place on your keyboard before falling back down into your lap, wiping the sweat from your palms onto your thighs before tightly clenching them into fists. The stress of the class mixed with the embarrassment of how obvious your lack of understanding has made your brain shut down, and only after noticing everyone around you packing up their things did you realize you had completely checked out for the last few minutes of class. 

“Aw shoot,” you mumble quietly while softly closing your laptop. The faint beginnings of a conversation come from beside you, but you’re too busy trying not to break down to make sense of any of it. Little crescent moons were being left in the palms of your hands from how hard your nails were digging into them, your mouth was beginning to taste like iron from how hard you were biting the inside of your cheek, and the sting of tears were present in your waterline. 

As you leaned down to shove your laptop and notebook into your bag, you made sure to take a deep breath because you would be damned if you ended up crying like a baby in front of fellow classmates. Especially ones you just met. It didn’t help too much, but after blinking rapidly for a moment you were certain no tears would fall until you were successfully inside your dorm room. Steve would understand and would make up an excuse for your absence at the cafe.

“Hey,” A voice speaks from above and you jump in surprise before sitting back up straight to find your seat neighbour with a soft smile on his face.

“Hello,” you mumble quietly before glancing down at your lap then back up to him, “I’m so sorry-I’m probably in your way aren’t I?” 

His eyes widen and he quickly puts his hand up to halt you in your movements of gathering your things, “No actually I um-I wanted to actually ask you if maybe we could compare notes for this lecture? I feel like I might have missed some stuff and it seemed like you got everything down. I’ve been kinda struggling with this unit so it’d help a lot,” 

You stared at him for a moment, blinking blankly at him almost in disbelief… Was he really asking you of all people for notes?

You fumble with your words for a moment before answering, “Well I’m not-um I actually might not be the best person to ask for notes,” the sheepish admittance does well to bring a new wave of heat crawling up to the tips of your ears and you try not to cringe in embarrassment, “I’m only averaging a 74% in this class right now,” 

The man tilts his head and gives another soft smile in your direction, “Well I’m averaging a 68 so ya still got me beat,” 

The quiet chuckle he lets out makes your lips tug up into your own smile and let out a quick laugh yourself. You quickly turn your head to the back of the lecture hall and see Steve and a few of your friends gathered around the entrance, discussing something unknown while patiently waiting for you.

“Alright that’s a fair point,” you giggle and take your phone out, “If you wanna, I can give you my phone number and email so we can exchange everything we have? I can’t really promise anything groundbreaking but maybe it’ll help?” 

He grins widely and pulls his own phone out of its hiding place, unlocking it and tapping to his contact list, “Yeah that’d be really nice…I’m James by the way,” 

You mentally scold yourself for not asking the man’s name earlier before revealing your own to him. 

“Nice to meet you,” James' voice is gentle and endearing as he holds his phone out to you in a silent request for your contact info. 

You quickly input your number and send yourself an emoji to ensure it was correct, “I um-I have plans to go to a coffee shop with my friends right now, but I promise I’ll send you all the notes I have as soon as I get the chance if you just wanna text me your email address? Maybe we could share a google document and work off of each other? Really whatever works best for you is fine with me!” 

You bite the inside of your lip to stop yourself from word-vomiting anymore and wonder how, after so many years, you are this awkward with someone. It’s been ages since you’ve been this socially inept with a stranger and you wrack your brain for a reason. 

James bends down and grabs his backpack before standing up to his full and very intimidating height. You haphazardly gather your own items and fumble out into the aisle to let James out. 

“No rush! I’m just appreciative of any help I can get really,” he admits, raising his right hand and running it through the dark brunette tresses of his hair. 

“No yeah I totally get that! And I’m actually gonna ask my friend for some help tonight so I’ll even have some extra tips ready!” Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you do another glance back to see Steve giving you the look and you figure you shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer, “okay, sorry I have to go now, but it was really nice to meet you James! And thanks for liking my stickers,” 

Why you brought up the stickers, you’ll never know, but you can fight with yourself about that later. 

James lets out a boisterous laugh before answering, “It was my pleasure, Sugar. I’ll be sure to message you later,” 

You were thankful that James had turned around to talk to his friend as it made it easier for you to hide the shock on your face from the sweet pet name he threw out. Putting your hands up to quell the heat that had risen to your cheeks, you make your way to Steve. 

“You make a new friend?” He asks with a knowing smile. 

“Yeah! He said he needed help with this class so I told him we would exchange notes when I got home. Oh also can you go through the entire lecture with me?” 

Steve stared down at your shorter frame, letting out an amused snort and shaking his head in disbelief, “You’re going to exchange notes with a dude when you don’t even know what went on in the lecture today?” 

“umm…yes, yes I’m going to be doing exactly that unless you be a sweet little lamb and go over the notes with me so i can fix any mistakes!” You respond sweetly and grab onto Steve's hand to pull him closer to the doors, “pretty, pretty, pretty please?” 

He rolled his eyes and pulled his hand from your grasp before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, effectively pulling you into his side, “yeah yeah, ya know I might have to start charging you Honey Bee,” He leads you out of the building and you both begin making your way to the coffee shop on campus. 

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | exhibitionism + piercing

pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader, feat. lloyd's friends: andy barber, ari levinson, ransom drysdale, steve rogers

warnings | ddlg dynamics (lloyd is a soft sweet daddy.) months of no touch/orgasms. clit hood piercing (+ me not knowing much about them.) fivesome with a sixth watching; exhibitionism. fingering (vaginal + anal.) nipple play. clit focus + rubbing. overstimulation. asking permission to come + she comes hard. so much praise and encouragement. probably some light mocking/humiliation. sooo many petnames. aftercare!! :) brief alcohol mention

word count | 1,580

an | sorry for the weird formatting? tumblr wouldn't allow me to use the bulleted list bc of too many characters i think- but ahhh omg the very last kinkmas piece 🥺 this event has been so much fun i hope you've all enjoyed the stuff i've written!! make sure to check out the event masterlist for anything you might've missed and thanks so much for reading along with me this month!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all of you sweet friends 😌💕

thinking about daddy!lloyd piercing your clit hood and then inviting all his friends over to show you off 🫠 piercings do take time to heal so maybe he's away on a trip for a few months after it happens, and when he returns home he has his buddies over to come play with you 😌 you were touch-free for that time period, so by the time the big night comes you're more than ready for some attention down there

lloyd dresses you up in a pretty new dress he got while out on his trip, short with lots of cleavage showing as always. and panties are skipped entirely; they'd just get in the way. he has you wait in your room as he brings his guests in, getting everyone settled in the fancy lounge with drinks and snacks. then he sends one of his servants to bring you down from where you're patiently waiting upstairs

andy, ari, ransom, and steve all coo and fawn adoringly as soon as you appear. you recognize every face in the group quite well; these are your daddy's closest and most trusted friends, the only men he would ever allow near you besides himself. this isn't the first time they've come over to play under lloyd's supervision. while these sessions can be overwhelming with so many players involved, things never get out of hand, as each of your daddy's friends treat you with just as much respect and care as he would, himself

"there's the pretty girl. we've missed you, sweetheart," ari's cooing from his seat on one of the armchairs

"that's a cute little dress, sunshine. s'it new?" ransom winks at you as he stands near your daddy's chair, finishing a glass of scotch

"come on over, doll. your daddy said you have something very special to show us," steve says gently, patting the space on the long leather couch between him and andy

the lawyer nods at the blonde man's words, adding, "come here, honey. got a nice spot saved just for you"

lloyd's on the other couch, across from steve and andy. "go on, princess. they've all been waiting so patiently to see," he encourages you

you find your way over, sitting down obediently between the two broad men. ari comes and sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. ransom makes his way behind the couch, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and easing you back a bit

"you wanna show us, angel?" ari asks gently as he leans in a bit, helping the men on either side of you bring your legs up to bend at the knee, your stocking-covered feet falling to either side of you. when you give a timid nod, the skirt of your dress is lifted up to expose your most intimate parts to the eager men surrounding you. a soft gasp is shared as they all lay eyes on your leaking cunt, swollen and sensitive from months of neglect

"aww, little one," steve's murmuring sympathetically at the sight of your arousal

"look at that ring- so pretty, sweet girl," andy marvels at the sight of the gold loop that now runs right through the fleshy hood covering your needy little nub

"your daddy told us it's a very special ring," ari hums steadily as he reaches out and gently spreads your messy folds apart, all of the men watching as your little hole twitches. "it goes right through the hood of your sweet little clit, doesn't it baby?"

"and that means," ransom chimes in from behind as he reaches down into your low-cut top, gently collecting your tits in his hands and squeezing at them, "that every time it moves, it rubs right up against your poor little button. isn't that right, pretty girl?"

you manage to give a shaky nod, a small whimper rising in your throat as the men all close in to finally start giving you the relief you so desperately need. there's no fumbling or hesitation, each of them settling in on their own task to contribute to the system of pleasure

steve brings two huge fingers to line up right at your opening, swirling the tips around briefly in your pool of slick before steadily pushing in. "okay sweetheart, let's get this pretty little pussy nice and filled up"

ransom continues up at your chest, his fingers rubbing and pinching at your pebbled nipples. "there you go, doll face. just relax," he's encouraging as your back arches lightly, making you sink a bit down further into the couch

andy drags some of your plentiful wetness down, carefully teasing the tip of a single digit over your puckered rosebud. he chuckles when you let out a startled whine, his voice low and soothing in tone as he croons, "easy, baby. i'll be gentle, i promise"

and ari seems maybe the most pleased of them all as he begins tapping and tugging gently at the small gold ring settled so perfectly against your now hardened clit. the feeling of the metal bumping and moving against your throbbing button is already more than enough to make you squirm, ari's patient gaze settled on you as he murmurs, "look at that, so responsive, just like always. does that feel good, baby doll? here, i wonder if we just-"

the others continue masturbating you in their various ways as the man before you pulls up on the ring, forcing the hood of your clit back to reveal your swollen little nub. "there it is," ari breathes happily as he steals some of your slick, bringing his thumb up to begin swiping repeatedly over your exposed bundle of nerves as his other hand keeps its hood retracted with the ring

"oh-... o-oh..." you're immediately stumbling over your words, your breaths shuddering as your clit burns brutally beneath ari's quickening pace

"think someone likes that," steve's chuckling beside you as he stretches you out on his fingers, curling them upward to stroke against your weak spot

andy's gathered more of your arousal to coat his pointer finger as he gently begins easing it up into your tight little ass, his eyes shining with pride as you weakly take the intrusion, "yeah? you like that, baby girl? that's it, honey. you're being so good for us"

"let's see if we can make this pretty little girl come for us," ari speaks to the others as your tummy quivers, your little legs shaking on either side of you as the stimulation becomes more and more overwhelming. but as soon as your knees begin trying to close, steve and andy are holding them open, giving you no choice but to lay there against the hot leather and let the men bring you to orgasm

"remember to ask permission, baby," ransom's reminding you as his head leans down next to your ear. the hands all over your body continue, but everyone glances over in lloyd's general direction as he sits just across the coffee table on the opposite couch, watching intently with a hand placed at his chin. one of his big rules for shared play time is that you always get his permission to come

"p-please daddy," your little voice comes out begging as both your holes are fucked forcefully now with large, slippery fingers, your nipples being rolled and rubbed as your clit is flicked in rapid succession. "please, c-can i-... can i-i come?"

lloyd scoots forward a bit, giving a simple nod as he lowers his hand from his face. "go ahead, princess. being so good for daddy's friends, you can come. you've earned it, baby"

as soon as you're allowed, you let go, your orgasm washing over you with impressive force. being the first climax you've had in months, it's quite the sight to be seen

all the praise coming from the men surrounding you blurs together as your holes contract around the fingers still pumping inside you: "oh- there it is" "good, very good, little one" "look at that, coming so hard for us" "keep going, baby. keep coming, that's it" "poor little girl, needed it so bad, huh?" "so cute when she comes, isn't she? such a precious girl"

when the waves of pleasure are finally dying down, their cheers turn to softer, soothing words as their hands still against you: "did so good for us, pretty girl. we're so proud of you" "that feel good, angel? seemed like a pretty big one" "you're okay, sweetheart. here, let's get your daddy over here" “no little one, don’t move. we’ll take care of the mess; you just hang tight”

everything feels like you’re experiencing it through a haze as lloyd comes over with the supplies needed for aftercare. you’re cleaned up and put in a comfy pair of fresh panties, your dress being repositioned on you to cover you up. someone wraps you in a blanket, and soon you’re safe and content in your daddy’s arms

the men all spend the rest of the night doting on you, helping keep you in a tiny headspace where you feel so safe and cared for. you get all the snuggles, tummy rubs, hair strokes, nose and cheek kisses, and gentle loving words you could ever want from each of your daddy’s wonderful friends

wow holy cow i got carried away with this 😮‍💨 all of them at once is so much but like,, , the i need that kind of so much 😔🙏

[voidsuites]

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT-THEMED BOT RELEASE !!! (1/15/25) ⌢ 🌊 .ᐟ

steve rogers ・゜゜・．SKINNY. selina kyle ・゜゜・．LUNCH. WLW.

bucky barnes ・゜゜・．CHIHIRO. art and patrick ・゜゜・．BIRDS OF A FEATHER.

jess mariano ・゜゜・．WILDFLOWER. tashi duncan ・゜゜・．THE GREATEST.

tony stark ・゜゜・．L’AMOUR DE MA VIE. natasha romanoff ・゜゜・．THE DINER.

wanda maximoff ・゜゜・．BITTERSUITE. bruce wayne ・゜゜・．TRUE BLUE. loki laufeyson ・゜゜・．BORN BLUE.

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 9.5K! love you guys— all of this is surreal. back with another album release… putting my phd in billie eilish’s discography to good use here (she owns more than my soul at this point). HIT ME HARD AND SOFT is so cinematic and wonderful… hopefully i’ve captured a fraction of the world she created with this album in these bots. enjoy. big special shoutout to my beloved juliana @jclolz22 for letting me fire ideas off of her at all hours— time differences are no joke and she’s def the one responsible for this release. loving her always!!! thank u all for making me feel special and have fun okay bye

[huffelpuff210]

Dark Steve Rogers x Shifter Reader

Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non Con, forced relationship, collar, dominance play,

Summery: Steve is tired of you not talking to him and giving him the cold shoulder.

Steve watched you from a distance as you nodded as Bucky talked to you with his arms crossed, your body language told Steve that you were completely relaxed around his long time friend, this pissed him off, 

You and Steve seemed to clash he didn’t know why sure you never uttered a word to him, but you would growl at him, scrunching your nose at him, Tony often said you were more animalistic than human, giving what Bucky explained all HYDRA put you though it’s not surprising, but Steve couldn’t control himself around you, he was always pointing out your flaws, 

Telling you everything you did wrong, and even would ask if you were understanding him at all, Bucky and a lot of the team told him he was being harsh, but he was only doing that to get you to utter a word to him, but still you refused, you would growl aggressively at him and storm out leaving the tower for hours coming back covered in blood, but you couldn’t control yourself any longer you would venture to the wood shifting and hunting down anything in sight hopping it would keep the animal side in you at bay hoping you wouldn’t return only to rip Steve to shreds, 

He was hard on you, no one else just you and you never understood it, when you would return he would be standing there waiting with his arms crossed in a disappointed way, he would make comments like, 

‘I should have known someone like you would act this way.’ 

or

‘I really shouldn’t be surprised at this point.’

Or

“Do you have no control what so ever?’ 

“You really are a beast in human form aren’t you.’ 

it pissed you off to no end, 

Steve continued to glare, but you paid no mind to him at this point you just ignored him, 

But what Steve really wanted most was you, he wanted you underneath him begging, moaning while he claimed his territory on you since you were more animal than human, 

He just relished in the thought of claiming you as his, dominating you, he knew you wouldn’t be able to fend him off strength wise, but claws and teeth would hurt like hell he needed something to subside that part of you, He smirked knowing exactly what to do 

Tony was having his annual party, it was dress casual thankfully you hated dressing up, in fact you hated parties all together but Bucky insisted it would get you out of your hard shell like he always says, you were guarded and for good reasons, HYDRA put you though hell, you barely talked only because you were trying your hardest to keep control, 

The animals struggle to gain control over you so you are always trying to keep them in check, Steve makes that very difficult, sure he’s a good teacher but how he always is making rude comments makes it hard not to tear him apart, 

You were sitting on the couch alone when Steve sits next to you, you narrow your eyes at him he hands you a drink, it was cider no smell of booze, 

“I’m sorry..” He says 

“I know I’ve been hard on you it’s only so you can succeed.” He says with a smile 

You just nod taking a sip of the drink, it was good, 

you both sat there for the majority of the party until you started feeling very hot, your vision started tilting you quickly stood up leaving the party heading towards your room, as you entered your room someone quickly pinned you against the wall you were about to attack only to feel something form around your neck, and you couldn’t you couldn’t access your animals either, you looked at your attacker, it was Steve you stood there in shock he only smirks, 

“This was the only way sweetheart.” He says tapping on the collar 

“Now we can begin.” He says he has his hand around your throat backing you towards the bedroom, you try fighting him but you find your strength was gone as well, he smirks at your reaction, 

“Don’t worry sweetheart it’s not gone for good, but just for this moment.” He says making you fall on the mattress 

He his on top of you in seconds before you can make a run for it. You glare at him 

“Don’t look at me like sweetheart you are going to enjoy this, I promise.” He says with a smirk

He takes off his shirt while he was still straddling you, it finally clicks and you try landing a punch at him he grabs your wrist glaring down at you, 

“I wouldn’t do that.” He says with a glare.

His hand pins you hand above your head you let out a hiss,

He smirks, 

“You have know Idea how long I have waited for this moment.” Steve says smirking 

You let out a growl, 

While he had both of your hands pinned above your head he uses his other hand to rip your shirt to shreds, 

The animal instinct in you loved the dominance something about being over powered did something to not only you but the animals in you, but you refused to show it, you tried to lift your legs to buck him off but it did nothing, 

He chuckled 

“If I knew you were hiding such a beautiful body… I would have done this sooner..” He says his hand skimming up the inside of your thigh

You try to squirm out of his grip but it was too tight, 

“It’s no use, At this point I am stronger than you, this..” He says with his hand on the collar, 

“It keeps you weak, and completely at my mercy,” He says his lips capturing your lips the kiss was so dominate his hands rip your bra to shreds causing you to groan, 

He nearly growls, 

His lips connect with your nibble making you groan and arch your back, 

“Mmm so sensitive,” You could feel him smirk against your breast 

You never felt a feeling like this before, His hand slipped in your shorts entering your wet channel 

“S- Steve.” You growled 

He looked at you 

“That’s it sweetheart, I knew you could talk to me,” He smirked 

His fingers pumping in and out of you, 

You felt as if you were about to lose your mind, you felt a knot forming in your stomach it was getting tighter, and tighter the more he pumped his fingers in you as his mouth swirling around your nipple, you felt like you were going to explode 

The knot inside you snapped you arched your back as you let out a growl and moan, 

Steve pulled his fingers out of you taking his mouth off of your breast, you thought it was over but he impatiently yanked your shorts and panties off your legs, he removed his shirt revealing his toned and muscular chest his bulging arms, you would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to the man, but you just figured you were out of his league, 

Steve could see the lust in your eyes, He smirked he knew you were based off of animals and like any human and animal it just took the right motivation he yanked his pants and boxers down, slowly crawling up the bed, 

“W-Wait Steve.. I’ve-” You began but turn your head away 

Steve smirked knowing exactly what you were going to say how it turned him on even more to know that he was going to be your first and last if he had anything to say about it.

“I know..” He says prying your legs apart

“It will only hurt a little.” He says smirking down at you with a quickly motion thrusting into you making you growl and eyes flash yellow at him growling up at him 

He smirked 

capturing your lips with his, you were gripping him tightly he could almost cum right there, 

“Go sweetheart your so tight..” He groaned, 

Steve didn’t waste any time, pulling out almost all the way only to thrust back in, his thrusts hard and deep making you moan, it actually made him go deeper making you moan was one of his goals, 

He enjoyed hearing the noises coming from you, your hands clawing at his back making him groan in pleasure, Steve grips your hims roughly he could tell you were right at the edge at how tight you were gripping him, he was close as well, 

“Cum for me sweetheart,” He groaned thrusting deeper and harder the room smelling of sweat and musk, 

God he wasn’t going to last much longer, 

Then he felt it you came so hard you arched your back as you came, 

He came harder than he had ever came before, both of you panting and out of breath, 

He slowly pulls out of you laying on his back, 

He was so wrapped up in the pleasure he didn’t notice you straddling his hips this surprised him, 

You snarled at him, 

“You think your done captain?” You growled 

This made him smirk, 

[thezombieprostitute]

Your Champion: Introductions

Summary: Former boxing champion Steve Rogers gets a new life as a collector for the mob.

A/N: Inspired by a tag I received from @alexakeyloveloki

A/N2: Part of the Yours AU.

Warnings: Implied abuse, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any! There will be non/dub con later in the series.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know" is one of the biggest truths in Steve's life. He was in and out of trouble pretty much every day of his life until he met up with Fury. Fury got him off the streets and into the ring. He became a champion. And he couldn't be bought.

That's how he met Bucky. Bucky was an up-and-comer in a new gang that was steadily building power. He'd made a lot of money betting on Steve. He regularly bet on him when he'd learned that Steve was approached by other gangs, trying to rig the match, but had thrown them all out on their ass. Bucky respected that.

Unfortunately the representatives of those other gangs didn't care for how they were treated. Steve was ambushed, taking a major beating, and a couple bullets, that left him unable to ever fight in the ring again.

When he was healed up, Bucky offered him a job as a collector. Easy money, easy work, and he'd be taken care of. Nick liked that Steve was a man of integrity and approved the hiring. Steve was the one that took some convincing. Only after he was shown how Fowler was investing money in actually taking care of the community, that protection money actually got people protection, did he agree to the job.

Soon he learned another benefit of the job: he could punch bullies and abusers without reproach.

Which is how he met you.

Your father was a gambling addict and a thief. If you'd ever had anything of value it'd been stolen and pawned off to fuel his bad habits. Every penny you made working at the grocery store had to be spent on food and bills before he remembered it was payday. If he even thought you were holding out on him he'd fly into a rage. You couldn't afford any more hospital visits so you had to give him what he wanted.

You were making your nightly meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a small yogurt, your biggest meal of the day, when the door suddenly burst in. You screamed in surprise as your father shouted and started to get out of his recliner. He'd barely gotten out of his chair before he was pushed back down by a tall blond man. You curled up into a ball, too scared to do anything.

"You owe Fowler a lot of money," the blond tells your father.

"I can pay it, I promise! I've had a lucky streak---" Your father is cut off by a backhand to the face. You whimper as you see the blood from his split lip.

At the sound the blond turns to you. "Who are you?"

You manage to stutter out your name.

"You his girl?"

"His daughter."

"You want her? Take her!" your father is quick to add. "Take her to pay off my debts!"

You don't have time to register your father's words before the blond punches him so hard the recliner falls back. You start crying out of fear, covering your eyes, wishing you could just be invisible like you were to everyone else.

The blond crouches down so he's eye level with you. He's cooing, "it's okay. You're not in trouble. You're not gonna get hurt here. He'll never lay another hand on you, I promise." He takes your hands away from your face and gets a good look at you. "You work at Pete's grocery, don't you?"

Surprised, you can only nod.

"I've seen you working there," he confirms. "You work hard. Lotta hours from what I hear." Looking around the meager apartment he looks back to you, "I'm guessing he gambles it all away?"

Again, you can only nod.

He holds out his hand to you, "I'm Steve, by the way. I'm going to make sure you never have to worry about anyone like your father ever again."

Next Chapter

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[buckyswifeduh]

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

[violetstark3000]

Don’t Tempt Me

Pairing: Bodyguard!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Word Count: ~4,800 Warnings: Language, slow burn, protective behavior, minor violence, simmering tension, emotional vulnerability, mutual pining, reader in danger, touches of angst and comfort, eventual fluff Summary: As the daughter of a high-profile senator, you’ve had your share of bodyguards — but none like Steve Rogers. Stoic, handsome, frustratingly protective. When your safety is threatened, Steve moves in. You can’t stand him… until you can’t stay away.

Steve Rogers was a lot of things. Your bodyguard was not supposed to be one of them.

But when you opened your front door that Tuesday morning — hungover from a night of political schmoozing and press photos — there he was. Sunglasses, tailored suit, tight jaw.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said with a nod.

You blinked at him. “No. Absolutely not.”

Behind him, your father’s assistant gave you an apologetic shrug.

“Steve Rogers will be your personal security detail effective immediately,” she said. “Until the threat’s resolved.”

You scoffed. “I’m not under threat.”

Steve tilted his head slightly, like he was listening to something you couldn’t hear. “That’s not what the letter left on your car said.”

You clenched your jaw. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

He didn’t flinch. “Good. I’m not here to babysit.”

You hated him already.

—

The first week was torture.

He shadowed your every move. Didn’t say much. Sat in corners like a statue carved out of granite.

You tried ditching him once, sneaking out the back of a restaurant. He found you five minutes later — leaning against the wall, arms crossed, utterly unimpressed.

“You done?” he asked.

You were not.

—

You learned things about him in slivers.

That he didn’t drink coffee but always made sure your order was ready before you asked.

That he worked out like a demon every morning and read classic novels when he thought you weren’t looking.

That he always stood between you and the door. Without fail.

“You don’t blink,” you told him once.

He cracked half a smile. “I blink when you’re not looking.”

You didn’t expect the butterflies.

—

One night, you had a panic attack. Quiet, sudden.

You didn’t even know he was still awake until he sat beside you on the couch, close but not too close.

He didn’t say anything. Just handed you a glass of water. Kept his hand on your back until your breath slowed.

You looked up at him with damp lashes and whispered, “Why are you nice to me?”

His voice was low. “Because someone should be.”

You didn’t sleep that night.

—

The threats escalated. Someone followed your car. A brick came through the window of your father’s campaign office.

Steve didn’t flinch. He started sleeping on your couch.

You pretended not to care.

He pretended you weren’t the most dangerous part of this job.

—

Then came the gala.

You wore a deep red dress that made your skin glow.

Steve nearly tripped when you stepped into the room.

You smirked. “Eyes up, Captain.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured.

That was the first time he touched you on purpose — his hand at the small of your back all night.

Your skin still burned.

—

You were ambushed in the parking garage. He fought off two guys with his bare hands. Got a cut across his ribs.

You drove him home in his own car. Forced him onto the couch.

He winced as you patched him up. “This is supposed to be my job.”

“Well, you suck at staying unstabbed.”

He laughed, then hissed.

You placed a hand over his. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

His eyes met yours, blue and full of something that made your chest ache.

“You terrify me,” he said.

You blinked. “Why?”

“Because if I lose you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

You kissed him.

He kissed you back like he’d been waiting years.

—

You didn’t sleep much that night. But neither of you regretted it.

In the morning, he made you coffee.

You told him to stop being perfect.

He said it was too late.

—

[orellazalonia]

Caged in Comfort (Pt. 5)

Summary: You’re slowly starting to slip into exactly what they want. While you aren’t their bright little girl yet, they’re patient and present as your inner turmoil and outward resistance gradually fades. How long it will last is unknown to both you and them. (Dark Stucky x little!reader)

Warnings/Disclaimer: Minors DNI. Dark Stucky. Age Regression. Forced Age Regression (Implied drugging). Kidnapping. References to Labs. Stockholm Syndrome in the future likely. You are responsible for the media you consume.

Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: Would love to do a timeskip next chapter so I can explore interactions with the other Avengers. Maybe some of the others are in similar dynamics.

Caged in Comfort Masterlist | Previous | Next

You don’t know how much time passes. Minutes stretch long inside the room, dulled by soft lights and the gentle hum of something mechanical just out of sight. It’s too quiet. No voices outside. No footsteps. Just Steve and Bucky and you.

You keep your hands busy with the coloring book, eyes low. You can feel Bucky’s stare less now. He’s sitting in the corner, arms no longer crossed, just resting, watching. Steve’s still near, perched on the edge of the armchair like he’s about to tell a story. And maybe he is.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Steve says gently. “You’ve done really well today. And we’re proud of you for being so brave.”

You don’t respond, but you tilt your head slightly toward him. That’s enough to make him smile.

“We think it’s time we start going over the rules now,” He continues, voice warm like he’s saying something kind. “Just so things stay nice and easy here. You want things to be easy, don’t you?”

Your heart gives a dull thud, but you nod once.

“We’re gonna keep things simple for now,” He seems pleased, folding his hands together. “Rule number one: No wandering off. Ever. Not without one of us holding your hand. If you leave your room, it’s because one of us is with you. At least for now.”

You swallow as Bucky speaks next. His tone is low and gravelly, less gentle, more grounding.

“Number two: No lying. Not about how you’re feelin’, not about what you want, and definitely not about tryin’ to leave.”

Your shoulders tense, but you don’t move.

Steve gives him a quick look. Then softens his own voice again, like it’s meant to balance the weight of Bucky’s.

“We’ll always keep you safe. But we can only do that if you’re honest with us, okay? If something’s wrong, you tell us. Littles don’t need to worry about anything grown-up. That’s our job.”

You glance up at him. “What if I don’t wanna be… little?”

It comes out smaller than you mean it to. Careful. Testing.

Steve’s smile doesn’t falter. “That’s just the scared part of you talking, honey. You are little. You’ve just forgotten how to feel safe.”

Bucky stands now, slow and steady, and walks over. You hold your breath as he kneels beside you again. His eyes don’t soften, but his voice drops to something quieter.

“You’re ours now. You get to stop running.”

You turn your gaze away as Steve continues.

“Rule number three: Big girls don’t make the rules here. Littles follow the routine. You’ll get up when we say, eat what we give you, and nap when it’s time. And if you’re good, sweetheart…” His tone drops to a purr. “You’ll get certain rewards. Books. Toys. Maybe outings if you’ve been extra good.”

“And… if I’m not good?” You ask, voice barely a whisper, already suspecting the answer.

Bucky speaks first.

“Then we teach you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.

Steve gives a lighter version. “We help you remember what’s best. That’s all.”

There’s a silence after that, thick and expectant. Then Steve brightens a little, clapping his hands softly once.

“But you’ve been very good today, haven’t you? I think someone’s earned a little reward.”

You sit frozen, the rules echoing in your head. No wandering. No lying. No questioning the routine. You’re sure there’s more they aren’t mentioning yet.

You’re still holding the crayon in your hand, the colors blended together on the page. Steve’s footsteps are soft as he walks to the small counter on the other side of the room, but you don’t pay any attention to him. The world feels strange, like the edges are becoming blurry. You can’t focus on the drawings anymore. The crayon feels wrong in your fingers, too heavy. Everything’s shifting, like the walls are closing in.

Bucky’s voice breaks through the fog. It’s firm, steady, like it’s always been, but now there’s something gentler behind it. Like he’s trying to make you feel something you can’t put into words.

“Time for your snack, little one.”

You flinch. The words hang in the air, just as oppressive as they were earlier, but now, they feel different. Heavy. You swallow hard and feel a knot form in your throat. It’s like your brain can’t decide whether to resist or to just let it happen. Your fingers tremble as they grip the crayon tighter.

Steve’s voice is next, and it’s gentler, almost coaxing. “You’ve been a good girl. Now, it’s time to get your treat. You deserve it, sweetheart.”

The word girl makes something tighten in your chest. You want to argue. Want to snap that you’re not a child. That you can take care of yourself. But the resistance feels… heavy. It’s like a pull inside your chest, urging you to listen, to do what they say.

Bucky returns with a bottle given to him by Steve. The milk inside is warm and thick, the smell faintly sweet, like it’s supposed to be comforting. Your stomach churns. It smells like safety, something your body is telling you it’s supposed to trust, even though your mind rebels.

You try to pull away, but Bucky’s already there, crouching beside you again. His eyes flick over your face, calculating. For a moment, it feels like he’s waiting for you to make the next move, but you don’t. Your head dips a little. A silent surrender. You feel the smallest twinge of guilt, like something inside of you’s letting go. The last thread of resistance. Your mouth parts instinctively as Bucky raises the bottle to your lips.

“It’s good for you,” Steve says softly, standing close behind him. “Nice and warm. Makes you feel better.”

The bottle feels too big in your mouth. You sip it slowly, unsure, but the warmth settles in your stomach, spreading outwards. It feels… safe. A little too safe. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s there. You almost want to sink into it, but you can’t.

You drink, slow and hesitant, until the bottle’s empty. Bucky takes it away without a word, and you blink up at him, trying to hold onto some fragment of yourself, some edge of defiance. But the fog is thicker now. You can feel your eyelids heavy, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Still, you fight to keep your eyes open, not wanting to give in.

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Good girl.”

His words are soft, but they settle in your chest like something warm. You don’t know why, but it’s enough to make your body sink a little deeper into the softness of the cushions, like your muscles are finally giving up the fight.

“You’re doing so well,” Steve continues, his fingers brushing through your hair gently. “We’re proud of you.”

A part of you wants to pull away, to refuse the soft touches, the kind words that feel too familiar now. But another part of you is weak, and it feels nice. Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel the pressure build up behind your eyes.

But Bucky’s voice cuts through before you can retreat any further.

“You’ll learn to trust us,” He mutters, like a promise. “You’ll see that we’re here to take care of you.”

You feel yourself shrinking inward, like the words are pushing you back into a corner. Your face heats, your stomach tightens. The bottle and the warmth from it make your body want to give in, even if your mind still screams to fight.

You want to escape. You want to run, but there’s nowhere to go. Your body’s too heavy, too compliant now. And your mind is so small, so young. You can’t focus on anything other than the weight of their presence, their hands, their soft, soothing words. They surround you like a cocoon, and part of you feels like you could disappear into it. It’s almost easier.

But it’s not right. You know that. You want to scream, but instead, the words come out weak, almost childlike.

“Don’ wanna be here… wanna go home…”

It’s barely a whisper, and before you can even think about it, tears prick at your eyes. Your chest tightens painfully, longing for a home that never existed.

Steve’s eyes soften immediately. His hand moves to your cheek, warm and comforting, like the moment your vulnerability slips free, he’s there to catch it.

“You are home,” Steve reminds you, voice quiet but firm. “This is where you’re safe now.”

And that’s when you realize, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how much you wish it weren’t true, their version of safety has started to settle into your bones. You blink back the tears, but they come anyway, soft and silent, like a child finally giving in to the feeling of being held. Steve is there to hold you gently as your body melts into his arms even if your mind rebels, comforting you softly.

Steve and Bucky exchange a quiet look. There’s something different now in the air, something that shifts the dynamic between them, like they’re waiting for something to happen. But they’re patient, and that patience settles over you, pushing your shoulders to relax just a little bit more.

Steve’s voice comes first, low and soothing.

“You’re feeling little now, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod slowly, your head still heavy, your body sluggish, but warm. Comfortable. It’s a strange sensation. It’s like something that feels a little too good to resist, even though you know, deep down, it’s wrong. You swallow, trying to fight it, but your body betrays you. You feel small, too small to push away their words, to hold onto the edges of yourself.

Bucky’s gaze flickers over to Steve for a moment before he turns back to you. His voice is softer than it has been all day.

“Alright, little one. Wanna get back to your playtime?”

Your heart skips a beat at the question. It sends a ripple of discomfort through you, but it’s too late to pull back now. The milk and the warmth have dulled everything down, leaving you tired and vulnerable. You look up at them, uncertain, like a child unsure of what’s coming next.

Steve looks down at you, his expression patient but expectant. “We got you some other toys to play with. Do you want to see them?”

Your eyes flicker between them, making a small movement of your head, nodding. Like you’ve given in without realizing it.

Bucky moves across the room, gathering a few plush toys, blocks, and a soft blanket from a nearby shelf. He arranges them in front of you, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s setting up a space for you to feel safe.

“There you go,” He mutters, settling on the floor beside you. “All for you.”

You stare at the plush toys and blocks, unsure of what to do with them. The toys look soft, inviting, like something that should belong to a little girl. A little you. Something in you pulls at the thought, and your fingers twitch as if reaching for them, but your mind is still cloudy. It’s hard to make decisions now, hard to decide whether you want to push away or lean in.

Steve’s voice is gentle when it comes again, pulling you back into the moment. It’s like he can see you struggling as he encourages you, “You can do whatever you want, honey. Just relax and have fun. No need to think about anything else.”

You hate the way they make you feel, like you have to be small. But there’s an undeniable pull in his tone, something comforting that makes it hard to resist. And so, your hands move almost automatically toward the plush toys. They’re soft, almost too soft, and they feel like a childhood that you never got to have.

You turn your attention to a stuffed bear, picking it up and running your fingers over its fuzzy ears. Your face softens without meaning to as you curl the bear into your lap. Something inside you lets go.

Bucky watches you from his place on the floor, his gaze is less guarded now. There’s a small shift in his posture, like he’s watching a part of you unfold that he’s been waiting for. Both of them are being careful in their movements as they watch you regress.

“That’s a great friend you have there, kiddo,” He speaks, his voice lower now, less sharp.

Steve sits beside you, his hand resting gently on your back, providing an anchor. His touch is comforting in a way that feels almost too real.

“You’re safe, sweetheart. Just play with your bear, okay? No one’s going to hurt you here.”

The words sound so simple. So easy. But they strike deep. Your fingers move to tuck the bear into the crook of your arm, holding it close. You feel small. Like a child. And even though part of you tries to pull away, tries to scream no, another part of you is so tired, so tired of resisting. You bury your face against the soft fur, closing your eyes for just a moment.

A soft sigh escapes you, and you feel Steve’s hand rub your back gently. His thumb makes little circles, just enough to ground you. Just enough to make it easier to slip deeper into this state.

And you become a little more pliable in that moment. The situation settles in like a balm to a wound. Your body feels heavy, lethargic, and in the same breath, there’s a part of you that’s letting go. Fully leaning into the care they’re offering. You don’t have the strength to fight anymore. Not now, at least.

You curl the bear tighter, pulling it to your chest as if to keep the tiny shreds of your older self intact. The way you play is slow, hesitant, and yet… you start to feel like it’s not that bad. Not if you let it wash over you like this. Let yourself be small.

[needlereads]

Ulterior Motives

soft!dark!Steve Rogers x female Reader

content warning: dub-con referenced; sex pollen

A/N: blurb that has sat in my mind for a long time without ever evolving into a full AU, so I'm releasing it into the wild.

I'm thinking of Steve, who is interested in the little medic Reader who's recruited into Shield's pararescue squad.

The more he runs into you, the more he gets to know your dry humor and natural compassion for the people around you, the more Steve yearns. He yearns for a chance -- to pursue this feeling of hope and curiosity and attraction that you inspired in him.

You don't encourage his pursuit nor his feelings. You may enjoy romantic soap operas but you're not looking to commit to anything at this time.

You convince herself that you and Steve Rogers get along the way two colleagues with constant contact would get along. Just like everyone else serving under the same mission and values, it's normal to get along.

He can't stop thinking about you though. Always lights up when he sees you, offers you coffee, catches you after briefings to ask how you're doing. You keep a polite distance that makes Steve ache. Pout even.

Until one mission, an ambush forces the primary team to scatter --multiple injuries are called in until contact signals are lost. Captain America stops responding for twenty-four hours. You are part of the search and rescue sent out.

You end up on your own, on the serendipitous path that crosses Steve's. He's been forced to hide out, vulnerable, weak due to -- a contamination? An illness?

Steve's symptoms make no senses. So you run through a mental catalogue of Hydra's most obscure experiments.

The contamination has overwhelmed Steve at this point. Neither of you can do anything to reverse it. Steve doesn't resist too hard when his symptoms take over, and though you are well trained, you're scared of this Steve. You know he can't help himself. Steve knows his hunger is barely manufactured.

He takes you.

It takes three days for him to come to all his senses. For your broken comms to reach headquarters and another day for transport to arrive.

And after it all, Steve claims you as his, no matter that the symptoms have worn off. No matter that you consider your professional obligation fulfilled. He takes what he's learned of your body, of the stolen time with you when you both hid away, and Steve makes sure you stay well and close to him from then on.

No one questions the evolution in his relationship with you. To your initial chagrin, everyone is so supportive, so pleased you both survived what they imagined to be life and death, and walked out with a legendary romance.

It isn't difficult. News reports mention you by name in connection with Captain America. A Shield intern unwittingly fuels gossip by confirming the extended amount of time Steve spends with you. Even the trashy tabloids give their blessings, disbursing paparazzi shots of Steve fitting his baseball cap on you on a particularly sunny day (He had convinced you to go on a date with him and you only agreed because you wanted to go to the museum anyway. Steve proved to be relentless.).

No one else knows exactly what happened in that safe house. Rumors are one thing, but it hadn't escaped anyone with eyes that Captain America had eyes only for you. Steve Rogers surviving yet another close call and making it official with the love of his life just made sense.

Steve is diligent in proving all rumors to be true.

And he reminds you often just how much you belong to him.