#steve rogers x woc reader

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

Unofficial Taglist:

@cjand10

[dc418writes]

talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things

✨Pairing✨: inmate!softdark!Steve Rogersxpsychiatrist!black!reader

Summary🪄: Your pining isn’t in vain

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!, oral (m!receiving), unprotected happy adult times (please be safe out there guys and girls!), language, obsessive like behavior, implied stalking, mention of masturbation (f!receiving)

A/N🎤: ✨HAPPY SPOOKY SEASON🎃!!✨ this is my submission to the Horny Hoes Hootenanny hosted by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @yenzys-lucky-charm and I hope you guys like what I came up with☺️! Also please support the other works for this event and even submit your own if you feel inclined💕!

Fic inspo:

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were found on Pinterest*

Dialogue Prompt: “Don’t act all innocent when we both know where your mouth just was”

Tropes/Situational Prompt: the villain/monster has feelings (or thots) for you

You didn’t have to hear a name to know which escaped inmate the news anchors were currently talking about.

“Blonde white male, blue eyes, 6’3, considered highly dangerous.”

You knew him very well having had him as a patient for about a year now. Pretty much the same amount of time his hulking body - yet soft features - has plagued your dreams and hidden fantasies. That first night it happened, your imagination vividly playing in your resting mind how his thick fingers would touch you just right to have you writhing and moaning for more, you were…flustered.

It wasn’t the first time - and probably wouldn’t be the last - that a patient made a surprise appearance in one of your dreams. Details and analysis from earlier sessions still fresh in your subconscious and lingering into your resting state. It was how you felt afterwards though, that told you this instance was far different. You desperately - and a little shamefully - wished you could sink back into that erotic dreamland when you awoke throbbing and needy from the scenes now branded in your memory. Sometimes you even found yourself daydreaming about his muscular, tattooed arms wrapped tightly around you. His soft lips gently pecking along your face before journeying down your heated body to where you wanted him most. That dark beard scratching and tickling your inner thighs until it ultimately became soaked.

Although that hidden primal urge wanted differently, every day after you expertly maintained your professionalism during your sessions with him. Carefully dissecting his words and explanations to make sure he wasn’t a danger to himself or others - well, no more than what other people already believed that is.

However one day, something shifted.

Gone was his reserved attitude - clearly deciding whether to fully trust you - and instead, a man who seemed…one step ahead. Dare you say a little smug. Admittedly, this new aura had a familiar warmth spreading along your lower abdomen causing your thighs to squeeze together as you slightly shifted in your seat.

“So, how are you today Mr. Rogers?,” you asked turning to a fresh sheet of paper in your spiral notebook.

He sighs, briefly widening his thick legs as he gets comfortable. His tattooed hand scratching along his bearded jaw. “Good as I can be. And I think we’ve known each other long enough that you can call me Steve.”

“Is that what you would prefer?”

For the first time, a hint of a smirk paints his pink lips thinking of a few names he’d prefer you call him. It’s unknown to you though as your hand moves along the page scribbling notes. “Makes things more comfortable right?”

Finally you look up from your writing to meet an intensity in his sea like eyes you’ve never experienced. You can’t look away though as you feel yourself slowly become flustered. “Are you not comfortable during our sessions..Steve?”

He pauses for a moment simply letting his eyes roam along your features - as if analyzing you for a change - before leaning forward with elbows on his knees. “What’re you writing?”

“Just observations. Notes for your file.”

“We can’t make our own notes?”

“Um..of course. I would actually suggest journaling as a way to manage your emotions; your thoughts. Keeping up with other suggestions from our sessions you might find helpful.”

“And my own observations,” he adds leaning back in his chair. “Like you.”

“What exactly do you mean ‘like me’?”

“Like how you seem…different. Bothered maybe.” You subtly try to calm your increasing pulse as he crosses his arms across his chest. His muscles straining against the white tee that have you near dripping already. Swirls of black ink forming various pictures and cursive words on his arms teasingly persuading you to kiss each one.

There’s no way he could tell was there?

“Thank you for inquiring, but this session is about you Steve,” you answer closing the notebook in your lap. “And as a warning, that question is ina-,”

“Must be tiring though. Always doing for others, yet no one there for you.” Steve’s tongue peeks out ever so gently wetting his lips. “No one to take care of you.”

“I’m an adult. I care for myself.”

“My point exactly.” Steve’s head just barely tilts while his vice drops an octave lower. “We both know everyone shouldn’t do everything alone.”

“I think we’re done here,” you quickly respond so he couldn’t go farther and crumble your resolve. “Have a good day Mr. Rogers.”

There’s a slight mischievous tilt to his lips as he stands. Cords of muscles moving under his shirt with such a subtle movement. His hands clasp in front of him turning to walk towards the door where a guard always waited to escort him back to his cell, and you can’t help but silently admire the expanse of his backside. From his broad shoulders to his thick thighs, the sight causes that pulse between your legs to start again.

“You too” is all he says once he’s near the door, but his earlier words leave a lasting impression throughout your day. You can’t seem to focus on your other clients constantly thinking of his deep voice, his pink lips, the intense way he looked at you that wasn’t uncomfortable but made you feel seen.

That night was the fastest you’ve ever came - squeezing and clutching around the rubber toy inside you so hard you genuinely thought there’d be an indentation when you finally pulled it from your messy core.

Something also snapped in you, wanting - needing - to know if Steve was just as good as you fantasized. That’s admittedly how your arrangement began, first sweet talking the guard into taking his lunch earlier after overhearing his child was sick. “He hasn’t had any violent acts in a little over a year. His file can attest that he’s currently not a danger. I’ll be fine, your kid needs you.” Reluctantly, he followed your suggestion but would of course try to be back in time for transport.

“You call if anything goes left, alright? Remember your panic button,” the man, maybe 10 years older, states peering dead center into your pupils so you’d know he was serious and he’d know you were listening. A quick nod sends him on his way to retrieve Steve; leaving you to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

A smirk tugs on his lips once the door closes behind him. His deep blue eyes raking up and down your seated body; appreciating the black, knee-length pencil skirt you chose to wear rather than your typical slacks. “Good afternoon Steve.”

“Afternoon,” he replies slightly tilting his head forward in greeting. “Since we’re still meeting, I take it what I said wasn’t all that bad. That you might’ve even agreed with me..”

Fast forward, your secret rendezvouses were still going strong. You on your knees for him just as you were that first day gladly bobbing up and down his throbbing length. Your hand not clutching his thigh twisting and rubbing what you couldn’t reach.

“This is how you act a week without me huh?,” he smirks with his larger hand clutching the back of your neck. When you peer up at him through wet lashes - moaning as you nod your head - he nearly comes undone cursing under his breath as the veins in his neck distend in that way you love so much.

Just as you feel him twitch in your mouth, he’s quick to pull you off causing you to gasp for breath as he maneuvers you to your feet. Turning you so your back would hit the wall as he hurriedly pushes your dress up over your hips. As usual, he’s met with your bare center glistening and ready for him.

“Fuck..need to be inside you,” Steve whispers against your lips before claiming your mouth as he’s done plenty times before. His tongue easily dominating yours only makes you wetter and thighs feel sticky.

“Steve please,” you pout. “Fill me up.” His hand grips under your knee simultaneously lifting and spreading you so he could slide in. His member thick, red, and leaking when he pulls down his orange pants. Luckily Steve wasn’t in the teasing mood, roughly entering your needy hole and making you loudly moan before his mouth was covering yours again.

“You’re gonna get us caught sweetheart,” he chuckles kissing along your jaw and neck. “Then again, maybe that’s what you want.” His pace begins to quicken as your hands clutch his shoulders and fingernails dig into his skin causing him to groan. “Want someone to see how good I make you feel? How deep you take me?”

“Steve,” you whine letting your head fall back against the wall. The slapping of his hips against yours nearly drowning out your panting and whimpers. “S’close.”

“I know, I know. God you’re so pretty like this, all blissed out and dumb.” He practically growls into your chest trying to hold on for longer, but he knows he’ll be gone soon the way you squeeze around him so tight. Even after all these months of meetings.

His free hand moves between you to circle your nearly raw nub as he switches between kisses and nips along your breast making you arch and tears prick the corners of your eyes feeling that addicting wave overtake you. “Ste-..I-…plea-,”

“Give it to me, cmon.” It wasn’t long after your release crashed into you that Steve was following, burying his face in your neck as he kept his moans and whimpers low. His hand massages your achy thigh while he pecks along the column of your throat in an effort to calm you down.

“My pretty girl. Did so good for me.” You couldn’t help but giggle feeling your cheeks heat at his words.

“T-Thank you Steve.”

How so much can change in the matter of hours.

-

Sat on your couch, knees pressed against your chest, all you can do is listen as the man rummages in your fridge and pantry trying to find whatever it was he wanted. The television playing a game show you’d usually be interested in, but now can’t even hear it with the pounding in your ears. Your heart still thudding since first leaving your bedroom to investigate the noise you heard and finding him in your living room.

“Figured you’d want some,” he states placing the cup of peppermint tea on the table in front of you. How he knew, you didn’t have the stomach to think about let alone how he knew where you lived in the first place.

“Y-You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. Your first words to him tonight.

Steve just lowly chuckles. “Don’t act all innocent when we both know where your mouth just was.”

“That still doesn’t give-,”

“Then why leave your key?,” he counters. “Of all our sessions I didn’t even know you had them. Yet today there it was.”

You didn’t purposely leave your key. Already in a rush when you arrived that morning, you just left it out rather than placing it in your wallet like usual. It wasn’t until you were in your car on the way home that you remembered it shining against the hardwood off to the side. According to protocol, you should’ve notified someone but you figured you could just get it the next morning and use your spare in the meantime.

In retrospect, you realize Steve must’ve seen and swiped it when you weren’t looking. Probably when you were cleaning yourself up and righting your dress.

“The key was just out Steve,” you carefully try to explain seeing the confusion in his features. “I didn’t leave it on purpose.”

“So now this is all my fault?”

“No it’s no one’s fault-,”

His sudden movement - standing to pace along the expanse of your bay window - startles you to stand yourself and ready to run if needed. “Can’t you see I did this for us?!”

“I-I know Steve, but-,”

“No,” he darkly chuckles shaking his head as he steps closer. “No don’t even try. This is real and we both know it!”

You quickly wipe away the tear falling from your eye trying to stay calm; hoping you could turn the situation around. That feeling entirely fleets watching him pull out his notebook and flip through the dated pages smudged with something…shiny.

“I saved these just in case you tried to deny it. Make it seem like I was the crazy one.”

Cautiously, you close the gap between you. Luckily he lets you hold his hand when you reach out towards him. “Y-You’re not crazy and I’m not denying anything Steve.” His frustration shifts to a soft smile gazing into your brown eyes. “We need to get you back to your cell though. You don’t wanna ruin all your progress right?”

Somehow you steady yourself not to flinch when his hand rises to caress your soft cheek. His thumb lowering to trace your plump lips he loved so much.

Love. He loved you. And if his mother taught him anything, you do any and everything for those you love.

“I can’t do that. You need someone to take care of you like only I can. You didn’t even check your windows before you went to bed sweetheart.” You can’t fight the tears now fully letting them flow as your future vanishes before your eyes.

“Hey it’s okay, I’m here now,” he coos. Those arms you once fantasized about now burning against your skin for a different reason. “No one’s separating us again.”

[yeaiamme2]

Just imagine him pounding you until your legs are shaking and trying to run. "Where are you going girl?" "I thought we talked about what happens when you try to run?" He says before flipping you over and putting you over his knee.

[awesomerextyphoon]

Steve: I lost the bet.

You: Which bet?

Bucky: Well this punk bet that Thor wouldn't know what a 'home run' meant.

You: Why?!

Steve: Tony was going on and on calling me an '100 Year Old Virgin'-

You: We all know that's not true! Bucky and I saw to that. For hours I might add!

Steve: He kept calling me that when I had some trouble understanding Quantum Computing.

Bucky: This is why you need to get better with comebacks.

You: This from the guy who thought living on $10K for a week was a cruel punishment!

Steve: Damn-

Bucky: Language, punk!

Steve: Sorry.

You: So how does Thor fit into any of this?

Steve: Yeah. I was thinking of anything to get Tony off my back when Thor walked into the kitchen.

You: That's when you made the bet, huh?

Steve: Turns out he and Selvig watched sports together.

You: So what did you lose?

Steve: Well...

----

Steve: I can't believe I'm doing this!

Bucky: How're the shorts?

Steve: WAY too tight.

You: Yeah they are!

Sam: Why does your tank top say 'I'm a Bi Brooklyn Bitch'?

Bucky and You: Tony.

Sam: Figures.

Steve: I have to wear this all over Midtown.

You: At least you don't have to hide it anymore.

Nat: The Press is gonna have a field day.

[neonovember]

Redwood Oak’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93​ @cynic-spirit

Steve's words echo loudly in your skull like a ball being knocked around your head, turning your brain to mush. The warmth of Steve's breath that had gripped you like a vice had dissipated the second the both of you had entered the expansive room of Steve's Office.

You don't see it, but Steve clenches his jaw in tight restraint to stop himself from putting a hole in Rumlow’s head and instead envelopes himself into the stone-faced demeanor he had learnt to form the moment he stepped up to the throne destined for him.

But god, did that horrified look on yourself tear Steve from the inside out. What had he done to you? It screamed betrayal in Steve's mind, that you not only had been hurt but by one of his own men. The man who had sworn to protect you had lied. And for Steve, his word was as good as its weight in fucking gold.

Steve had to play it level headed, the heavy weight of his father's presence was always near, but it seemed to cloud his vision at this moment,

“Don’t do nuthin stupid, think, just stop for a second and think”

Steve didn't want to think, he wanted to delve deep into the darkened desire within him that preened at the idea of Rumlows blood dripping between his clenched fists. Steve’s desire for violence shocked him a little, he could feel his fist shaking under his grip, like they had a mind of their own.

Steve wasn't a violent man, he was sensible, it didn’t matter if the entire city of New York believed he was cruel, because he knew every action had a means, it wasn't just to spill blood and crack skin. Steve’s entire enterprise was never built on appearances, despite the world it lives in, nothing Steve did didn't have an objective reason. He thought that would be a light of mercy before the spray of blood would coat his button-up.

But now, there didn't seem to be any reason to wait and sit, in the end, it all seemed sensible. Any threat of danger to your life needed to be eliminated, and returned with such a display of cruelty that no one would try it again. There was a gnawing feeling, however, at the recesses and edges of Steve's mind, the kind that screamed at him to see what was truly happening.

“Look”, and Steve learnt to listen.

There was something more to Rumlow than just scaring you, something more sinister, it echoed deep within Steve and the reminder of the cruel world beneath the gravel ground was as clear as ever. Steve had to find out because now he felt that your safety was his responsibility, an obligation he felt every bone within him scream to fulfil.

“Bucky” Steve calls the brown-haired man dressed down in a black suit, the outline of a holster poking through the waist of his jacket.

Bucky murmurs something into Sam's ear, before making his way towards Steve, his gaze shifting between you and the tall blonde standing a few spaces behind you.

“Need something from me, Steve?” Bucky says, making an effort to keep his gaze towards Steve, despite Steve's gaze being situated on you.

“Take our friend here to get something to eat, and then use one of my cars to get her home”. Steve murmurs, almost discreetly so only the three of you can hear.

You noticeably fidget at the mention of going home, it wasn't that you didn't want to, you did, by all accounts, but you didn't know what you would open the door to when you did end up back at the decrepit apartment complex you loved. Your apartment wasn't necessarily known for being the most well-secured, but you figured your neighbours would at least tell you if someone had broken in and trashed the place.

Steve moves towards Bucky, turning his body to face away from your wandering gaze

“Take one of my unmarked cars, it seems we’ve got a fuckin rat in our very own house” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear, causing Bucky to turn his head to face Steve. A look passes between the both of them, their eyes conversing in a way words never could, in a way that told you they had been brothers long before this entire world fell upon their shoulders.

“Well go on then” Steve’s deep voice whispers into your ear, you can taste the heat of his hand pressing onto your waist, as you feel the outline of his revolver press into the small of your back.

“Don’t think I won’t hurt my men to protect you, I’ll kill him if I have to” Steve murmurs, he doesn’t have to say his name, but your mind has been repeating it enough to know who he's talking about, and your heart skips a beat in surprise, air catches your lungs and you have to swallow back the strange feeling brewing in your stomach before following Bucky’s pointed gaze out the office doors, several dozen eyes watching your every step.

The squeak of Bucky’s dress shoes and the click of your pump loafers follow each other down the carpet and painting-lined hallways. You sneak glances through half-open doors and you're met with similar pictures, women and men dressed in black and white staff uniform cleaning and dusting away priceless antiques, ruffling pillows and beds that were never going to be slept in, and folding the endless crisp white shirts Steve wore.

You pass a hallway that looks different to the rest, darker somehow like it was sacred. You don't see any of the endless staff coming out of any of the rooms too, and the millions of questions it springs forth have your eyes squinting to see past the 2 main opening doors.

Bucky turns a corner quickly, and without realising you bump into his back, the rock-hard muscle acting like a brick to cushion your fall. You can’t help but let out a loud yelp, before Bucky turns and catches you from falling flat on your face.

You look up at him clearly flustered, and Bucky gazes down at you in interest, he begins to murmur something but thinks better of it, and slowly lets go of his grip on your waist.

Coughing, he straightens his suit, before motioning forward

“We’re here”

“Hmh? Where is here-” You say

“Oh”

You look towards the expansive dining room, fitted with leather couches surrounding a cast stone fireplace connected to a brick stone kitchen, an iridescent chandelier hangs from the tall ceilings, looking as if diamonds were dripping from above, and the halo of a sparkle glints over the both of you and you can't help but gaze in awe.

“Gorgeous isn't it?” Bucky says, and you glance at him watching the way the chandelier cuts the sunlight so it breaks across the dining room.

It was beautiful, despite being in a room that was in a house of violence, it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

“Bucky? I thought you already emptied out my kitchen” Calls a voice from the kitchen

Bucky turns towards the voice, a smile for the first time appears on his face and he walks up with you trailing behind.

“You’re still here? I thought Steve gave you the rest of the week off?” Bucky says, and as you walk past the expansive dining room you see a woman dressed in a dirty apron, wiping down a pristine marble countertop that Bucky leans on.

Pots and pans hang from high above the centre block, glinting in a perfect steel arrangement, long panned windows filter light in from the manicured lawns and an array of shelves and creme cabinets line the kitchen. A double burner oven is situated against a grey stone wall, and low-hanging lantern lights are hung from above. David would have loved cooking in this kitchen, that is all you can fathom as you gaze across the opulent space.

You are too fazed to take notice of the conversation happening beside you, until the kind woman looks towards you, cocking her head, her hazel eyes gaze you up and down, taking notice of your strange attire.

“And who is this?”

“One of Steve’s friends came here to get her something to eat but if you're leaving, just know your kitchen is in great hands” Bucky smirks towards the woman, who shakes her head reverently.

“Oh absolutely not, he burnt soup once, goddamn soup!” The woman scolds, a frightened expression taking over her face as she widens her eyes at you.

You can't help but let out a giggle, she was nice, this woman, dark auburn hair braided into a fishtail cascades down her back, her cheeks full as her big brown eyes smile at you.

“Hey!, it was one of those artisan ones alright, screw me for trying to follow a recipe online” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes at the woman as he tries to argue his side to you

“It’s soup Bucky, you put it in a pot and let it heat up” You reply, shaking your head, the woman looks up at you swiftly, a look comes over her face and she nods.

“By your clothing, I can see you are a curator of the kitchen as well?” The woman replies

You look up at her surprised, “Oh no, I’m,-I’m just a waitress”

“Well does the waitress have a name?” She replies

You hadn't had to introduce yourself for much of your life, your name and entire identity stolen and curated by your husband until he was the one introducing you, and now, the sound of your voice feels foreign on your tongue.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, my name’s Katerina, but just because you're a friend of a friend you can call me Kat. So what would ya like darling?” She says

“Oh, no” You take notice of the recently wiped down and cleaned tabletops

“It’s alright, you've already cleaned up everything and I'm not that hungry, besides Bucky promised to show me around the Manor '' You reply, wiping a hand down to iron out the wrinkles in your work shirt.

“I did?” Bucky replies, and you turn your head, pleading with him to go along with it

“Oh yeah, um, I’ve got to get my Vitamin D you know” Bucky coughs, wincing as he digs his hands into his dress pants.

Kat looks between the both of you, a knowing smile on her face as she nods,

“Oh, I know you'll be here a while.'' She replies, before you both bid your goodbyes and head out through the French doors and onto the stone steps of the entryway of the Manor.

“You really made me lie in front of Kat? What do you think this is? You know I don’t answer to you, and Steve told me to make sure you eat something, especially since last night-” Bucky scolds, before cutting himself off at the mention of your embarrassing

“You know about last night?” You mumble, the burn of embarrassment crawls up your chest as Bucky shifts his gaze to you in guilt

“Parts alright? It was late at night when Steve found you at that bar and it was getting..I just knew I had never seen Steve so, so..” Bucky trails over, shifting his gaze from your eyes.

“So what?” You reply, Bucky was about to tell you something about Steve, specifically last night and every inch of you wanted to know what it was.

“Forget about it” Bucky replies, and you shake your head defiantly.

“No, no I won’t, ever since that day Steve walked into my diner, I’ve been doing this blindfolded dance, spinning around the truth but never being told anything” You reply, challenging Bucky.

Bucky pulls his tongue from his cheek, eyes trailing the manicured garden of the front lawn before looking down at you.

“He was silent. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back, just motionless. And I know Steve has that stone face going on, but honestly? It was like he was thinking, plotting something in that mind of his, and he didn't stop until you were taken to your room and tucked in, hell he didn't stop until we both walked into those office doors”.

You look down at your hands, twirling the old copper band around your index. Thinking? Thinking? You didn't have a clue how to read Steve, let alone know what he could be thinking of all things.

“What does that even mean?” You reply

“It means Steve is deeper in this than he thinks he is,” Bucky replies.

You catch your tongue before you reply with what automatically pops into your head,

If Steve was in this knee-deep, you were entirely swallowed.

Your eyes catch a light shining from the corner of your peripheral vision, over the wall overgrown with ivy.

“I wasn’t lying before,” You say

“Hmph?” Bucky asks, clocking his eyebrow

“Take me there” You reply, pointing towards the wall towards the back of the Manor.

“You mean the abandoned garden?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head

“If it’s abandoned then no one will know we’re there, right?” You argue

Bucky narrows his eyes, but reluctantly agrees, walking down the steps in long strides as you run after him to catch up.

You both walk along the expansive gravel driveway, the piercing gaze of Steve from the office window above follows the both of you as you venture through the spiny trail that leads to the garden hidden beyond the large hanging evergreen trees that grew along all over the grounds.

Almost losing your balance once or twice, you finally make it through the overgrown foliage, following the stone trail that soon crumbled into the dark dirt floor. Bucky steps over a broken step, before unlatching some kind of bolt and shoving a rotten gate open, breaking the vines that had once grown on the wood.

You walk through the opened gate, Bucky following close behind, and the shrubbery opens up to a clearing. Large evergreen trees like the ones near the Manor surround the open land, however, a different kind of tree stands sky high, and you can’t stop yourself from walking up to one, and feeling the maroon bark rough against your fingers.

You close your eyes and it comes to you,

Redwood oaks.

Times when you would think hard enough, the silhouette of skyscraping trunks, and deep green leaves would cloud your vision, and when you lean your head forward you can almost smell your past. It is beautiful and strange and it hurts just as much. You can’t find yourself anymore, you've resigned yourself to that, but these thousand-year-old trees make you feel more connected than ever.

You want to climb into it and let it consume you. Sleep until you woke up and you knew who you were. It’s strange, the tree reminds you of Steve somehow, like you've been here with him before and it's hitting you like deja vu.

Something has gifted between the both of you, between you and Bucky too, you noticed it today when he spoke to you rather than through you. He didn't have that unsure expression anymore like he didn't fully trust you, and you don't know whether it was because of Steve or because of last night.

The clearing is almost a hill, and you can see fields of honey-coloured wheat and grass cascade into hills as you look beyond the tall trees. You can make out the backbones of where some sort of wooden shelter or structure once stood, now all that was left was a pile of rotting wood and leaves.

“Why is this place abandoned,” You say, it was gorgeous and let in the sun in just the right way for it to be reflected from the trees and shower the clearing with a honey glow, but it was hidden. And all hidden things were hidden for a reason.

“Don't know, it's been in Steve's family for generations, rented out to a couple people and then sold to a family in the mafia. Until Steve bought it back, it seems like this used to be where some sort of sheltered seating area once stood” Bucky replies, digging his shoe into the dirt.

“Yeah well it seems like someone’s put it to good use” You reply, noticing a small hardwood sculpting table fitted next to a workbench, a small but well-built wooden gazebo shelters the workspace, and you want to step forward but something tells you that place is sacred.

A sound comes out of Bucky and when you turn your head, he looks towards the gazebo like he knows who it belongs to. It hits you that he probably does, being the eyes that see all in the place anyway.

“This place yours or something?” You reply, and Bucky looks towards you in surprise like he forget you were there.

“Hmp? No, not me necessarily, but I think I know who” Bucky murmurs, his eyes trailing back to Manor fixating on Steve's office and you have to swallow the laugh that erupts at the assumption.

“Steve? If Steve was to have a hideout behind his Manor it would be for a guillotine, not an easel” You reply.  

You look towards the Manor and even though your vision only catches the pitched roof peeking through the dark pine trees you don’t doubt by the feeling crawling up your arm that Steve is watching you too.

“Steve, he's done something but, he's- he's a good man” Bucky replies, turning a rock onto its smooth side between his hands

“Oh yeah? Just like my husband is? I’m starting to figure out good men don’t need to say they're good men” You retort

Bucky shakes his head, turning the rock between his hands before tossing it into the shrubbery.

“You’re husband, he's done things you can't even imagine, he is the farthest from Steve, he's the farthest that Steve could ever be” Bucky replies with a heated tone.

For some reason that statement sent a burn down your stomach, in some sick way, you felt it was your responsibility to protect your husband's honour and name in front of Bucky, but it disappears when you realise you're the one who had run across the country to escape the very man Bucky loathes.

“I know the things he's done alright? I’m not that oblivious”

“I’m sure you aren't, Steve wouldn't go through all this trouble for someone who isn't..smart. But what you know about your husband is only what he's allowed you to see, in this life, there's so much that goes between looks and eyes,”

“Steve, it's this life that's changed him, changed all of us, swallowed him up until we couldn't even recognise each other. God I wish you could have seen him before, he was so carefree, ran like the wind couldn't even catch him. Your husband, evil like that is born in you, encoded into your DNA until you know nothing else" Bucky replies

“How do you expect me to believe that about him if you leave me in the dark all this time? You say Steve is a good man, well then tell me how” You reply

Bucky grinds his teeth, his jaw working as he weighs the metaphorical pros and cons of letting you in, and telling you things you he doesn't doubt Steve hasn’t. It was strange, Bucky felt it was wrong for you to be in this agreement with Steve so blindly, Steve had told him he wanted to protect you, but how can he say that when you don't even know what he's protecting you from?

With a gruff sigh, Bucky turns his neck to face you, delving into one of the main, if not the entire reason Steve is the way he is, and of course it had to be connected to you.

“About a decade or so ago, Steve was in love with a woman, she was everything to him, his breath, his bones, his love, she owned it all. Now it was about the time when Steve was ordained to take over from his father, it was a tradition since the Rogers planted their foot in the underworld, and it was once Steve's father did not take it lightly. Taking over meant your entire life would be dedicated to this throne, you would live, breathe and eat business, and for Steve, what he lived for was her.” Bucky shifts so that his gaze moves from the Manor. And like he's ashamed to be telling you this, to let the stark demeanour of Steve crack.

Bucky chuckles in the sort of way that wasn’t out of humour, your eyes strain as you peer at him, watching him scratch his jaw and tussle his brown locs free from their curls.

“Steve’s father could sense his weakness before it even started, I guess he thought Steve would realise what was at stake, the responsibilities that he had to honour as part of this family. That week before his coronation, Steve refused his father in front of an entire dining room of men. He refused to let go of her in exchange for his marriage to the throne. Told all of them that he was going to marry her and run off. And I still don't know if it was a show of discipline or plain evil, but Steve never got that chance” Bucky says.

“What do you mean?” You reply, your confused expression turning grim as you notice the bleak look on Bucky's face.

“She was- she was murdered that very next morning” Bucky replies, his eyes returning to you, as you whip your head back to stare at him in horror.

“Your husband, was paid by Steve’s father to murder his fiance” Bucky replies after a beat, your breath leaves your chest as you stare at him in disbelief, hands grasping the edges of your apron as you wait for the punchline, and Bucky stares at you in anguish as you realise there isn't.

You don't know what sounds leave your mouth, just the look of Bucky’s face tears you away from his gaze and the tears glide down your neck. You don’t bother to wipe them, you don't doubt there is more anguish to come, more revelations that will have your head spinning, more secrets that were kept from you.

“Hey, hey, look at me” Bucky replies

“I can’t, I didn’t tell you this for nothing alright? I can’t have you leaving here teary-eyed, you told me you were strong yeah? So be strong. Your husband is a murdering psychopath, he has been since he was a teenager, this mercenary job was done to get his foot in this business, and now you're all muddled up in it too. And Steve, he doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to you” Bucky replies, squeezing your arm to shake you back to the present.

“But why? Why would Steve’s father do that?” You reply

Bucky stares off into the curving hills of wheat and grass, shaking his head before replying

“It was Steve’s obligation, it had been since he was conceived, Steve's father thought he gave him a life free of responsibilities while growing up in that town, he didn't think that recklessness would follow him to Brooklyn”.

“Town? What town” You ask, and this time Bucky avoids your gaze, whispering incoherent obscenities under his breath

“That is something only Steve can tell you, me and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn during our teenage years. That place was something from before even that, before even me”. Bucky replies

You nod as you stare at the river that swirled across the Manor grounds, the shock of your husband's role in Steve’s becoming the invisible stone-faced don he was now didn't fully hit you yet. It was like you were numb, forced to put on a brave face in front of Bucky, who had trusted you enough to tell you about Steve.

Steve.

The man who you had believed conned his way into your life, and tricked you into a deal you didn't agree to now seemed different to you, you can’t fathom how a man like that, a man so instilled in the traditions of this world once defied it. Steve had once been so in love he was ready to disown his father's own expectations of him, and yet in the end it had gotten her killed, and it had left him seated on the very throne he despised.

“We should probably head back, lord knows what Steve would say if he knew you were still here” Bucky replies, pulling out a cigarette from his suit breast pocket, and flicking open a metallic silver lighter encrusted with the Rogers family heirloom.

The amber light that ignites the bud elicits a strange feeling that litters goosebumps across your body, it reminds you of a burning photograph, left to ashes and soot. You can smell the stench of it too, and Bucky watches you carefully as he clasps the lighter back into his pocket, nodding to the trail you had just come from.

Your mind is too preoccupied to remember walking back to the Manor, or even sliding into the car door Bucky had opened for you. Your mind circled back and forth between the answers Bucky had muttered under the sweet wisp of the morning breeze and the millions of questions that were met with the same silence and face of neutrality that Steve wore.

There was so much that you didn’t know, it hadn't hit you before, but it was so frighteningly obvious now. You were still the same foolishly naive girl that you had been 10 years ago, except this time, if Bucky had been right, you weren't being robbed of your entire autonomy.

You couldn't deny that since you had arrived in Brooklyn, you felt a strange pull that led you to Steve, you felt it the first time he walked into the diner, and although it was crowded by fear then, you can feel it in all its entirety now. For some strange reason, you hoped what Rumlow had said was just another thread of lies he had made you unravel, you hoped to god for Steve’s sake that all it was, was a childish attempt at getting out of babysitting.

You had steered your mind clear from falling down the rabbit hole of what else it could be, and the sinking feeling that begins to unfurl in your stomach now has you pinching yourself awake,  and forcing yourself to stare through the tinted car windows. You watch the blur of the pine trees crowding the curving roads and Bucky’s incessant tapping of the steering wheel over-stimulate your senses, resting your head on the window.

Perhaps Steve knew a thing or two about betrayal, and from the same man that had made you run halfway across the country.

[writeturnlove]

The Mate - Chapter 6

The Mate

Chapter 6

By Valencia Turner

(writeturnlove)

[Author Note: I know there are mistakes in this chapter. I will go back and correct them, but I did a quick read through and wanted to post the chapter as soon as possible. I'm so very sorry for the delay. Life has significantly changed over the past couple of years, and it may change even more in the next few weeks. ]

WARNINGS: Do NOT read if you are under 18; SMUT, SEX, BLOOD, BITING, VIOLENCE (Referenced and broken furniture), DEATH, etc.

Bucky 

My Luna snuggles closer to me. I pull her into my arms and hold her against my chest. Her warm skin soothes and excites me at the same time. My cock stirs to life as her sweet breath fans against my skin. I want to sink myself deep inside her, but I can't. 

Well, I can, but I won't. Steve left earlier and we never talked about how this would work. Sharing her heart and her body. Can I only make love to her with Steve’s permission? As the primary pack Alpha, does Steve have approve of what Luna and I do together?  

Damn it. I should have paid more attention to the folklore of our pack. I grew up surrounded by books passed down throughout North Pointe history, yet I never read any of them. My mother is an elder, yet I avoided learning more about my possible role as a second Alpha to the pack. Maybe a part of me, deep down, knew learning about our folklore would mean I was accepting a fate I didn’t have a part in making. 

Destiny is a dirty word to me. It means I can’t choose my own future, and I’ve never been a fan of that. I wanted to choose when I gave up playing the field, but this union feel like I thought it would. 

Our Luna is beautiful - in an adorable sort of way. She’s got that girl-next-door beauty that forces you to give up your bachelor ways, settle down, and build a family.  Until several weeks ago, my family was my pack, but I’m closest to my mother and Steve. Now, that circle includes Luna. 

I want to give her everything she wants, needs, and deserves, but I'm holding back when it comes to my heart. A part of me believes I should hold back until I'm certain Steve would approve.

Still, Luna feels so fucking good against me, and I don't think I can wait another second. Her scent fills my nose; more potent now that I've tasted every delicious inch of her. My erection feels like hot steel, waiting to spear her warm, slick center and give us both what we crave.

I slide my hand along her soft skin, grabbing her leg and wrapping it around my waist. It’s instinct now. The wolf inside me is pacing like the hungry animal it is, wanting to connect with my mate. 

No matter how close to me she lies, she’s never close enough.

She's warm, wet, and ready for me, but guilt fills me. Should I even be doing this? She's legally married to Steve but spiritually bound to both of us. I didn't think I'd be this confused, yet here I am holding back from making love to my own wife because I'm worried about what her other husband will think when he gets home later.

I’ve never been a romantic man. I like sex and I’ve enjoyed more than my share of women over the years: human, wolf, and most recently a hateful red-headed vampire who I plan on killing the next time I see her. 

****Please click the link to read the rest****

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405835/chapters/163005091

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[whoreforsamwilson]

Friend Of Mine {Long}

Warning: Language

Word count: 1,039

Hurt and anger formed in Sam’s eyes as the words fell from Bucky’s lips. “Sam please you have to understand,” Buck tried to reason stepping closer to Sam, but Sam only stepped further away from him.

Silence filled the room, Bucky searched Sam’s face for answers, or anything for that matter.

“He was my best friend,” Sam mumbles clutching his fist.

Bucky dropped his head, I watched from afar I didn’t want to interfere, at least not yet. “For years I mourned and grieved. And went through endless cycles of guilt.”

“I-“ started Bucky but Sam cut him off.

“And you know, I invited you into my home had you around my family, and expressed to you on multiple occasions how much Riley meant to me.”

Bucky tried apologizing for the umpteenth time since the truth was exposed.

I didn’t even know how to feel about the situation, Riley was my best friend to I was there with Sam on that endless emotional cycle.

I can only imagine the betrayal Sam feels compared to my own.

I loved Rile just as much as Sam does, but I also understand that Bucky wasn’t himself and was being controlled.

He took a deep breath and turned towards Sam again. "I know how important he was to the both of you. And I'm sorry, Sam. For everything." His voice broke on the last word.

Sam stared into the blue pools of Bucky's eyes, tears welling up in his own eyes.

He took a shaky breath as if his emotions were going to overtake him, “I trusted you.”

Sam left the room with nothing else left to say. It was quiet again, Bucky and I standing opposite of each other.

His eyes lingered on mine before he shifted them to the floor.

“If you need anything you know where to find me.” I gave him one last look before turning and following Sam outside.

It’d been over a month since we saw Bucky after what went down. Sam had been keeping himself distracted and distant.

He woke up extra early to leave and came home super late. Sarah would come by to check on him or bring the boys to get him out of his funk, but that never lasted long.

He would lock up in the garage working on something new for his suit or making upgrades on Red Wing, and if not that he was at the boat.

I knew that's where he'd be today, I braced myself and I turned the car off and got out.

I didn't know how any of it was gonna go, he kept everything bottled in and it could go left and fast. He sat on the edge of the dock with his fishing pole.

I could hear him humming along to Trouble Man.

I approached him sitting down next to him, he looked over at me and then turned his attention back to the water.

It was silent between us, and it had been like that for so long around the house I couldn't take it any longer.

"You okay Sam?" I asked.

"I just found out that my friend killed my best friend Y/N. How do you think I feel?" He spat. I took in a sharp breath trying to keep my composure. "Sam, I know you're upset, but we can't blame-"

Sam scoffed and looked at me sideways, "Y/n, don't finish that fucking sentence, Riley was your best friend too and you just gonna brush that shit under the rug again just like everyone else did!" He yelled now standing and walking towards the boat.

I got up and followed him, I didn't want this to turn into an argument, but I'd be damned if I let him talk to me like that.

"Are you serious right now Sam? You don't think I stayed up nights on end dealing with my emotions after caring and catering to you? Yes Rile was my best friend and I loved him just as much as you did, but I also know Bucky wasn't himself either. I'm trying to force you to talk to him, all I'm saying is that this doesn't mean you have to give up on him."

I stopped talking and sighed, Sam turned to me still staring daggers at me. "Why are you defending him so much? Did you know he did this?" Sam threw the questions faster than I could answer them, so I stayed silent.

Taking my silence as a yes Sam asked, "For how long?"

I couldn't lie to him any more than I already had, "From the moment you started working with Steve," I watched as his facial expression changed from anger to disbelief.

"How could you keep something like this away from me for so long Y/N?" asked Sam.

"You said you'd tell me everything when I needed you most," Sam said looking directly at me. His voice filled with hurt and hatred.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were so excited to work with Steve and I didn't want to ruin that for you, but then once I saw on the news the attack on the bridge that day, I started doing my own digging, and that's when I found out. I wanted to tell you, but then you got into deep with him, and I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"I don't care, what was going on Y/N, you should have told me. You had plenty of time to tell me this Y/N/N."

"I'm sorry Sam," I apologized, I knew he wouldn’t care, but he needed to know that it wasn't the right time.

Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply before opening them again, his gaze was soft, but held no warmth, "I think we need some time away from each other."

I stood there hurt running through me. I didn't say anything to change his mind, because I knew I couldn't do that.

"See you around," I said turning to walk out of the boat and to the car. I knew I wouldn't see him around anymore.

My heart felt like it was being ripped apart by the hands of the person I considered my friend and lover. I got into the car and drove home numbly, but now I know how he felt.

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

How to find my fics on AO3?

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Only registered AO3 users can see my fics on AO3 now. If you aren't a registered user and need an invite do let me know, and I can send you an invite for AO3.

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. III: Poolside Promises

Summary: You convince Ari to finally let you have a little fun this summer. But at what cost? Check out Part One!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Allusion to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

Almost Two Weeks After Your Father's Departure...

You glide through the water effortlessly, seeking a brief relief from the summer heat. While the news had promised you and everyone else that today’s weather would be one for the books, the warnings still hadn’t been enough to prepare you for the heat that assailed you the moment you’d stepped out the back door. 

However, it’s not until you allow your head to break through the surface that you realize you were no longer alone. You had company. And he was also staring at you.

Again. It was something he had a habit of doing.

“Can I help you?” It’s a flatly delivered question. 

The man only shrugs, dragging a hand through his shaggy, chestnut brown locks. Frankly, he looked so much like his brother you were almost surprised that you’d never really noticed just how many similarities they actually shared.

Same striking blue eyes. Same massive build. Same chiseled jaw that looked great with or without a beard. But where Steve always possessed an aura or control, Ari emanated something a little more raw and untamed. 

You found found that it sometimes did funny things to those annoying butterflies that had seemingly taken up residence in your belly these days.

“Did you need something?” You try as you continue to tread water in the middle of the pool.

“Nothing you're quite prepared to give, sweet Clover.” Ari responds cryptically, his head cocking to the side as he continues to survey you. 

“Then why the hell do you keep staring at me?”

That was another thing you’d recently come to learn about Ari over the last couple of days. He didn’t seem to care whenever you decided to take a spicy tone with him – a fact you’d discovered when you’d found him sitting in your father’s study just the other morning.

You’d been so happy until that moment, especially since you’d previously been granted three days free of Bucky, Steve, and Andy. Your time alone had been glorious, even if it had proved to be short lived. 

You watch the older man closely, fascinated by the increasingly pronounced tick in his jaw. Hell, if he was allowed to stare then so would you. However, the question was, who would blink first?

Turns out, that award belonged to Ari. 

Humming a tune under his breath, he proceeds to grab a lawn chair before pulling it closer to the edge of the pool. Neither one of you says a word as he takes a seat, his sinewy muscles bunching and flexing beneath the thin fabric of his light gray t-shirt. 

“Just came out here to check on you.” He reaches up to scratch at his beard. “See how you were managing in this heat.”

“I’m managing by planning to spend all afternoon in the pool, like any other sane person would.”

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure Bucky and the boys made it clear that they don’t appreciate your little penchant for snark.” He muses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.  

Probably. You inwardly concede. It definitely hasn't been winning you any favors. Which is why you often preferred to play the part of a mute. Whenever they allowed you to, that is.

“Doesn’t seem to bother you.” You respond honestly before closing your eyes and flipping your body so that you can float on your back, giving Ari a glimpse of your peaches and cream-colored bikini.

“That’s cuz’ not too much bothers me. I don’t allow it.” 

“Hmm…” You spread your arms, silently wishing you could simply float away from this conversation entirely. “Maybe you should talk to the others about that. Seems like I find a new way to piss them off every time I open my mouth.” 

“Nah.” Ari shrugs away your words as he continues to appear unbothered by the heat. “Something tells me they don’t quite know just what to do with a pretty little thing like you.” 

“Oh. And you do?” Well, you could safely say that you hadn’t been expecting that answer. 

“I’d certainly like to think so.” 

His statement hangs in the air as you both fall silent. While you weren’t quite sure what your would-be caretaker was talking about, it was definitely enough to make you think. And it’s at that moment that you decide to change tactics. Instead of floating here annoyed, perhaps it was time to use Ari’s seemingly indulgent personality to your benefit. 

A friend of yours was throwing a party tonight. And you wanted to go. 

When you’d previously brought it up to Bucky and Steve, they’d both hemmed and hawed over the subject – asking you all kinds of questions and refusing to give you anything more than a non-committal “we’ll have to see” or "we'll have to sit down and talk about it". And when you’d tried to play the ultimate trump card by calling your father, he’d sided with them. 

“I’m not there, pumpkin.” Your Dad had said while you’d been holed-up pouting in your room. “I asked your Uncles to watch over you, which means I’m gonna have to defer to them in situations like this one."

And, as luck would have it, you hadn’t been able to get your answer before they’d just up and disappeared on you like the overbearing assholes they were proving themselves to be.

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I trust the judgment of anyone who’s crazy enough to sit out here in this heat and roast – not when there’s a perfectly good pool, like, right in front of them.”

“Not sure that pool of yours is big enough for the both of us.” Ari mutters, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. Although you get the feeling he’s talking more to himself than you. 

“It’s plenty big.” You eagerly reassure him, adjusting your position so that you can float closer to where your pseudo-guardian is sitting. “See? There’s aaall this space.”

For a second Ari appears unsure. And the closer you get, there’s no denying the fact that he was finally showing signs of feeling the heat. It’s hard to miss the thin line of sweat dotting along his brow.

“C’mon…” You urge, playfully splashing him. “Don’t be such a hard ass, Uncle Ari.” You decide to tack on the last bit for his benefit, all the while trying hard to keep the edge out of your tone. But if he notices, he thankfully doesn’t comment.

“Fine. Melt.” You heave an exasperated sigh when he still doesn’t move. Climbing onto a nearby pool raft, you turn your attention back to your companion. “Jesus, you guys are always so serious, like all of the time. I mean, what’s wrong with having a little fun?”

“Alright.” That’s all you get before he reaches to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the sculpted body hiding beneath.

You scarcely have the chance to appreciate the sight before you’re treated to the sound of a splash. You let out a squeal as water goes splashing everywhere, rewetting your already rapidly drying body. Seconds later, Ari’s head breaks through the water.

“Happy now, princess?” He disappears again, only to reappear closer to where you’re currently lounging. 

“Depends.” 

“On?” He asks, seemingly content to tread water alongside you. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t at least admit that the man was kind of attractive.

Or, as your friends had put it, sexy as hell. Yeah, you weren’t quite sure how you felt about that one.

“Well…” You hedge, giggling when he splashes you to encourage you to hurry up.

“Out with it, Clover. A closed mouth doesn’t get fed.” Or fucked. He silently adds.

“There’s this party I kinda wanted to go to tonight. All my friends will be there and I haven't really had the chance to celebrate my birthday with them yet.” You finish, your teeth going to worry your bottom lip. 

Ari studies you for a moment as he tries to figure out the best way to respond. “What did Uncle Steve and the others say?” He already knew that you'd asked them, and he wanted to make it clear that he’s not one to be so easily manipulated. “I’m assuming you asked them first.”

“They said “maybe”. Well, two of them did anyway. But then they left without ever giving me a real answer.” 

“I see.” He offers you a cheeky grin while pausing to swat at a wayward fly. “Maybe we should call them. See if they’ve finally made up their minds–.” 

“No!” You shoot straight up on your perch, accidently flipping the raft and sending you tumbling back into the icy cool water. You come up sputtering and coughing, and while you can’t quite tell, you’re also fairly certain that Ari is laughing at you.

“You all good?”

“Yeah.” You gag, hating the taste of chlorine. 

Ari nods before moving to retrieve your float. He’s even kind enough to hold it still long enough for you to climb back on it again. Only once he’s satisfied that you’re secure does he seem interested in continuing the conversation. 

“So…it sounds like you really wanna go to this party. Don’t you, Clover?” 

“Yes.” You breathe, refusing to say anything more than that just in case he was actually considering it. You’re so desperate that you don’t even balk when he begins swimming towards the edge of the pool, dragging you along with him. He doesn’t speak again until he’s reached his destination. 

“Tell me, will there be any drinking at this party?”

“Wha–no!”

“Now’s not the time to lie to me, princess. Will people be drinking at this party?” He reaches up to cup your chin, his brilliant blue eyes boring into yours as if he's attempting to unravel all of your secrets.

One by one.

“I swear! Grace’s parents would positively kill her if they found out she threw that kind of party.”

Ari quietly mulls over your answer before deeming it to be honest enough for his liking. “How about boys?”

Fuck. While you couldn’t be honest, you also didn’t want to lie. Not when you were this close to getting what you wanted. Which was freedom. 

“Her little brother will be there. He’s a couple grades below us. But it's not like she can kick him out or anything.”

“Just her little brother, huh?” You could tell he was feeling more than a little skeptical. However, you’re surprised when he seemingly lets it slide. Releasing his grip on your chin, he gives you a little push, content to let you float away. 

“I swear. We can’t do anything too crazy with him around – he’d rat us out sooo fast.”

Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me. 

Holding your breath, you watch as he climbs out of the water. He makes a beeline for your towel, patting himself dry to the best of his ability before draping it over his shoulder. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I might be willing to make an executive decision on this one, provided you’re willing to do something for me in return. Something that’ll keep at least some of the heat off of me when it comes to dealing with Steve and the boys.”

What you didn't know was that they had already discussed your desire to attend this party – him, Bucky, Andy, and Steve – and they'd decided that the answer was "no". But since you'd gone the last couple days without throwing a tantrum, Ari felt inclined to give you what you wanted. It also helped that he found your bratty ways to be rather endearing.

So long as you weren't outrightly disrespectful.

“Anything.” The word flies out of your mouth before you can catch it. And just like that, that damn tick in his jaw is back.

“The only way I feel comfortable enough letting you go is if you promise to text me every 30 minutes. Doesn’t have to be long. Just a message to let me and the other guys know you’re okay.”

What the hell?

You open your mouth to protest before deciding you’re better off not. Right now, you’d take the win and try to renegotiate the rest later. 

“Take it or leave it, princess.” 

“I’ll take it!” You reply, albeit probably a little too enthusiastically. “Thank you so much!”

Ari doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead that damned tick of his only seems to grow even more pronounced. “Alright.” With that, he turns and begins striding towards the door. “I’ll, uh…I’ll get you another towel.” He pauses once he reaches his destination, turning to face you once more. 

“And Clover?”

“Yeah?” You call back, feeling happier than you have in almost two whole weeks. 

“Don’t make me regret this." Ari rumbles, allowing you to get a good, long look at his muscled, hair covered chest. "I'd hate for my kindness to come back and bite me in the ass. It would be a shame to start the summer off on such a bad note.”

“I…”

His words leave you so speechless that you can only watch as Ari proceeds to waltz through the sliding door, leaving you outside all alone once more. But not before reiterating his promise to bring you another towel so that you can get ready for lunch.

“Well, fuck…” Is all you can muster before rolling yourself off your float and into the cooling expanse of the water. You swim down to the bottom, touching the floor with both hands as you work to center yourself. 

You hold your breath for as long as you’re able before the need for oxygen forces you to resurface. As you greedily gulp air into your burning lungs you tell yourself not to give a fuck about Ari and his bullshit. Instead, you decide to focus on the most important aspect of tonight, namely…

Just what in the hell were you going to wear?

END

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[writeturnlove]

The Mate: Chapter 6 is finished!!!

I know it's been WAYYYYY too long and I sincerely apologize.

The next chapter of The Mate is completed. As always, it ends in a bit of a cliffhanger.

You'll see. I sent it to my Beta reader for review. Once I get it back, I will do some editing and post it here with a link to AO3.

Since it has been so long, please let me know if you want to be tagged so I can make sure to update my tag list.

I appreciate you all so much.

Love,

Valencia/writeturnlove

[ellethespaceunicorn]

I’ll always reblog this because people complain about inclusivity when I add x black!reader but then do this shit.

Like, honestly? Ima fuck your father for that rudeness. Don’t tempt me.

me: *begins reading fic*

the reader: *turns red*

me:

[whoreforsamwilson]

Next Lifetime (Part One)

Warning: None…

*Word Count: 987

My gaze shifted to the beautiful woman who stood beside him.

She's wearing a beautiful blue gown that complimented Sam's suit. Her hair was curled and fell down her back perfectly.

She smiled looking up at Sam with a wine flute in her hand.

Leila's her name.

Coming to this Christmas party was a big mistake, and I wouldn't have come if Sarah hadn't practically begged me to come.

“You know you look pretty to be sitting down. Every guy in here has had their eye on you," said Sarah leaning against the bar.

She wore a beautiful black dress and her hair was braided and pulled into a bun. She had been mingling since I showed up and I guess she was expecting me to do the same.

I jumped my shoulders throwing back the rest of the champagne, "There's no need." I said shaking my head.

"Well if you not gonna dance with them at least come dance with me."

"Sarah please I don't-" She cut me off begging, "Please, oh look this is our song." She said with a smile.

I shook my head as Jesse Powell's 'You' started playing. I smiled shaking my head and standing up and my red dress fell to the floor.

"I hate you," I laughed as we made our way to the floor.

My eyes found Sam coming to the dance floor with the beautiful girl on his hips. Sarah turned her attention to when I was looking.

"Come on, it's just us." She's pulling me in the option direction.

I followed without question knowing better than to fight Sarah on anything.

She led me through the crowd to where Sam was dancing with the beauty. When they finally got to us she gave me the go-ahead.

They were so focused on dancing with one another and I didn't want to ruin it for them. Sam glanced at me and smiled, the first time he saw me tonight.

I returned the smile wrapping my arms around her. "There's that beautiful smile," said Sarah. "Has he talked to you?" I shook my head turning to look at him, he spun her around making her giggle and he smiled at the sight.

He kissed her cheek wrapping his arms around her waist. My heart dropped as I saw it, "About what?" I asked looking at her. Her brown eyes hid something.

What I'm not sure. But whatever it was she didn't know how to say it so she changed the subject.

"I wonder how many people in here think we are a couple?" She asked as we continued to dance.

"All the guys I rejected tonight." We both laughed as she turned me into a dip. "Sarah!" I gasped grabbing my boobies just in case they tried to pop out.

The music was turned down and Sam's voice came over the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please direct your attention to the beautiful woman in the blue."

"What's going on?" I whispered to Sarah, and she just dropped her head.

"From the moment I laid eyes on you Leila, I knew you were the person I wanted to be with forever." Forever? He hardly even knew the girl and he's talking about forever.

I turned my gaze to him, I was starting to feel faint. My heart began pounding loudly. I didn't understand why I couldn't breathe.

It felt like there was cotton stuffed inside my throat. I stumbled back feeling a tug from behind.

Sam fumbles in his pocket, I hope he's not doing what I think he is.

"And what better than to do it surrounded by our family and friends? Leila will you make me the happiest man in the world." She gasped stepping closer to him.

I need to leave before the world leaves his lips, before I pass out and that wouldn't be good.

I picked up the bottom of my dress and turned to walk away as he got down on one knee, my lungs burned I was moving so fast.

I knew coming here would be a mistake, I should've just stayed at home in my pjs, watched Christmas movies, and drank hot cocoa.

I looked back towards them just barely seeing Sam take a ring box. My mouth went dry and tears started flowing from my eyes as soon as they did I broke and ran for the doors.

When I reached the valet attendant I asked for my car to be brought around giving her my ticket. I shivered the cold air wrapping around me like a blanket.

It felt like they were taking forever it shouldn't be hard to find one car. "Hey, you forgot everything," Sar called after me.

I turned to her not caring about none of my belongings that she carried, "Why did you invite me if you knew he was gonna propose to her?" I spat anger laced in my voice.

"I thought he talked to you he's been saying it all week, and I didn't know what he was gonna do tonight. He said he wanted it to be small and intimate." She defends.

But I'm not feeling all that. "What did he need to talk to me for, he doesn't need my permission to do anything.

"He wanted to be sure that you would be okay."

"He didn't care enough to do so, but give them my best wishes," I said as they finally came around with my car.

Getting inside I slammed the door shut putting it in drive and not giving her a second glance.

Maybe I was being a little too harsh on her, I felt bad. But I know Sarah should overlook that blaming it on my emotions.

She would still come over once the boys were off to bed and sound asleep to make sure I was truly okay, but for now, she gonna give me the space I needed.

[sunsburns]

sunburn’s guidelines! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

want to send an ask, request, or a thirst/thought? here are some brief rules and things you should know before doing so!

back to navigation. inbox. request status: OPEN.

rules

before you send an ask, please remember that i do have a life outside of tumblr. i swear i’m not ignoring your messages or requests, i'm likely just busy

don’t send me a request that has already been sent to another writer. it's very disrespectful to both parties.

always check if my account is open for requests before sending anything over. otherwise, your request will be left unanswered until it's open again.

if requests are closed, you can still send any thirsts, thoughts or ideas for me to expand on. i’m always happy to chat with anons about anything!

i do write smut, angst, fluff and pretty much anything and everything. i will always put warnings before any of my work. your media consumption is your own responsibility (this goes for minors engaging with nfsw content).

my writing usually steers toward a reader that’s woc (because i am one and i love to self-insert in my work), however, i do not write anything with specific features.

i do not write for real people but! i’ll happily talk about them if they’re mentioned in an ask (i.e. “did you see zendaya’s new post?!”)

i love making moodboards. i’m a pinterest whore so feel free to ask me to make one for anything even if requests are closed!

my nos:

while i did say i do write for a lot of things i do have a line i tend not to cross due to personal reasons

i won't write certain kinks/fetishes such as daddy kinks, piss kinks, degradation/humiliation to a certain extent, self-harm, or non-con scenarios

just because i personally do not fw those

everything else is basically on the table unless i say otherwise

characters i write for:

challengers: tashi duncan, patrick zweig, art donaldson

percy jackson: luke castellan

the last of us: ellie williams, joel miller

marvel: peter parker, peter quill, steve rogers, kate bishop, pietro maximoff, marc spector, sam wilson, joaquín torres, wade wilson, logan howlett, johnny storm, peter maximoff, & any x-men

invincible: mark grayson, rex splode/sloan, nolan grayson, any of the mark variants, allen the alien

dc: dick grayson, jason todd, wally west, bruce wayne, clark kent, roy harper, koriand'r

arcane: league of legends: vi, ekko, jayce, jinx

© sunsburns. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or works as your own is prohibited.

[georgiapeach30513]

I love how cheeky the princess is with Steve. But also how smitten they are with one another. Loki is bad news. Thor…sigh.

new rules - fourteen

Has it really been a year since I wrote for this fic? Sheesh!

As a reminder, I no longer have a tag list. Please follow @synths-library​ - that is where I reblog my new content!

word count: 2.5K

warnings: 18+ ONLY. Language, mentions of regicide, mentions of violence, angst, mentions of cheating (not on the Reader), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), talks of virginity and sexuality.

prince! steve rogers x princess reader

amazing moodboard by @pictures-inmy-mind | divider by @firefly-graphics​

new rules masterlist

summary | done with his daughter’s antics, a king makes a decree that she will marry one of his king’s guards, whether she wants to or not.

Grace peers outside, the handwritten letter crushed in her hand, aware of the person standing behind her.

“Are you here to give me your apologies?” Her voice is controlled, even as she feels herself losing the battle with her composure.

“Would it make it better?” 

Your father stands behind her, eyes focusing on the letter in her hand. Grace lifts her head higher, breathing in deeply, her back to him still.

“No. I’d much prefer you tell me that you told me so. Do you believe this is the best course of action? Removing a queen from her kingdom?”

“Better than her being dragged out by her husband’s mistress and his bastard son.”

Her breath catches in her throat at his words, the letter fluttering to the ground. Her forehead presses against the glass, her exhale fogging up the window.

“I always thought that I did everything right. I followed the rules to the letter, Father. I gave up what I wanted for a title. A marriage that joined our two kingdoms together because I was the oldest and I needed to set an example. I have always been the golden child and now, because of a scandal, I have to leave everything I’ve gained? Do you not see how insulting that is for me? For my girls? I wanted a life of my own and I almost had that once but this… this was my duty and I did it.”

“Do you not trust your father? It is for the best.”

“The best for whom?” Grace whirls around, tears in her eyes. “For your precious other daughters? The ones who share your very blood?”

“This is not what this is about. It is about the strength of our family, despite the circumstances you have found yourself in. You are my daughter, through and through. If I did not have the amount of love for you that I have had since I laid eyes on you, since the moment I knew your mother was going to have you, I would not be standing here to help you out of this scandal.”

“It is his scandal to bear! Not mine!”

“Then you will never understand what it means to be a queen. Nor will you ever understand the amount of slander and libel that will be lobbied in your direction once they hear he has decided to move in his new family. I will handle this, make no mistake, my child. For when you hurt, I hurt. When my family is broken, I will exact revenge, I promise you that. I promise my granddaughters the same. You will move from this house, to Codmare Cottage with the girls.”

“Father, I -”

“Now, Grace. I will have your things packed up but you must go.”

Sniffling, Grace pushes past her father, leaving him to pick up the letter and examine it, before he lowers his head in dismay.

Thor peeks in on Brunn, her weapons laid out on the counter, freshly cleaned and repaired. Without even turning around, she places her hands on the counter.

“What do you want?”

“There’s a briefing in a little. Queen Grace is heading to Codmare within the next few hours.”

“Noted,” Brunn says quietly. “Anything else?”

“Yes.”

She turns to look over her shoulder, Thor swallowing hard at the sight of her. She’s never cried before in front of him, let alone show any emotion but he can see her teeth running over her lower lip, as if she wants to say something.

“Will you be assisting her?” Brunn asks him.

Thor shakes his head at her question.

“No. She will be assigned to Sam. I told you, Brunnhilde, it was in the past.”

“So that makes it okay?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Thor answers her, taking a step inside. “I want you to understand that just because it’s the past doesn’t mean I turn my back on it. It isn’t a closed door, something that remains off limits. It won’t be until I can make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me?” Brunn scoffs, nodding her head in disbelief. “Does she know that you’re finished? That you can just walk away like it never happened? Does she know about you and her younger sister?”

“She knows I’m finished,” Thor responds. “I let her know in the best way I could. I’m sorry, Brunnhilde. I can sit with these feelings that I have, the feelings I have for you and reconcile that what I’ve done was wrong and that I have hurt you. I know that.”

“Good,” Brunn shoots back, turning her back on him. “Then you’ll know me well enough that I need to be alone.”

“I do. Sam will be around in an hour or so to settle in and get information. I’ve told him to come to you if you have any questions on what she would require.”

“Where will you be?”

“On a task.”

When she can no longer feel him behind her, Brunn exhales a breath, focusing on the weapons on the table in front of her.

“I’m not supposed to be here, you know,” Steve says against your forehead, your eyes closing at the feel of his arms around you. “Your father would have my head for this.”

“Would he?” you whisper, nuzzling his beard before kissing him. “I believe this is your proper place.”

“Not yet,” he purrs against your neck. “Though your pictures did you no justice when I see you in person, you brat.”

His fingers slip between your legs, his fingers inching up inside you.

“I can’t tell what you like better,” he wonders, your back arching slightly when his lips kiss your collarbone. “Earlier it was my mouth… maybe it’s both?”

“Maybe.” You shiver, feeling him move down lower, his hands seemingly everywhere and nowhere all at once, enough to make you dizzy with how he knows just where to touch, where to kiss that you’re uncertain that he doesn’t have a map of your body somewhere.

Or, he’s just that good, something your brain realizes, shutting down the jealous response that threatens to rear its ugly head. None of that matters now, not when he’s spent the weekend in your bed, teaching you new things and learning what you like, stopping short of giving you what you truly want. Lia has made it seem like heaven and earth but you’re not sure if it could be better than his hands.

“S-Steve,” you keen, your thighs in his hands, his tongue dipping into your entrance.

“Hmm?”

“Oh my god,” you pant, Steve nipping at the sensitive skin.

“It’s Steve,” he teases before his fingers find a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

King Adam opens the door to his office, a man sitting in his chair, looking up in surprise.

“Ah, King Adam,” the tall, slender man purrs with a smile and nod. “Lovely to see you in the flesh.”

“I must say that you are bold. Last time I heard news of you, it was that you were locked away, awaiting a trial, was it? I don’t think King Joseph takes kindly to one kidnapping a princess, lest it be one that is in the sights of his prodigal son.”

“A mere piece of a puzzle, I assure you, Your Majesty,” Loki responds with a grin. “Though I assure you that no trial can hold me. I created the narrative for Brokelen and I simply do not any longer.”

“They know you as a traitor to the crown.”

“And you know me as a keeper of your secrets,” Loki reminds him. “Or at least, I was, until you decided to think with your other head. How do you think your people will take your mistress? Your bastard son? To install them into the palace is quite bold, Your Majesty. Some may say foolish.”

“What I do is my business. My wife is frigid, a bastard of her own name. What is another?”

“Precisely why I am here. You tell me what you know and I will craft your relationship into a more… palatable story.”

“You’re a wanted man.”

“And you’re about to be a disgraced king. Which will it be? Lose what little respect you have on the world stage or keep your secret.”

“Grace knows already.”

“So she does. Banished to Codmore Cottage, I believe. The family is doing its own damage control. Not that I can blame them. She’s done much to bring shame to her family.”

“So have you,” King Adam sneers. “You’re worse than I am.”

“No, Your Majesty. We are simply cut from the same cloth. I’m slightly tailored better than you, of course. It’s quite simple. I want Brokelen to fall and you want to keep your secret from getting out. We can come to an accord, I am sure.”

“What is it?”

Loki stands, extending his hand.

“That’s for me to create and for you to follow along. For now, keep your mistress and child where they are. Let me handle the rest.”

King Adam shakes it, Loki nodding.

“Lay low,” Loki instructs. “Not a peep out of you, Your Majesty, until I say so.”

The door opens for Grace, a handsome man standing at the door, offering his hand. There are no photographers, no paparazzi yelling her name. Only the sound of the water fountain in the background, the crunch of her heels on the gravel when she finally stands.

Codmore Cottage seems smaller than she remembers, the lights on upstairs as she’s well aware that is where her daughters are. Humiliation hits her when she’s led up the steps, thinking of what she’s left behind.

There’s only so much emotion one can keep inside, the door opening to the well decorated space. This is where she will call home until she can find a suitable replacement, even if her father has told her that it may take a while. It feels surreal to know she’s removed from a place that she once only dreamed about, only to have it cruelly stolen from her.

This man that introduces himself to her as Sam isn’t Thor, the comfort she once sought out but now knows will never happen again.

He said it himself in writing.

Perhaps the apology was a deathblow to her pride, Thor putting an explanation to paper as to why it was and always had been a mistake. Through his words, she can tell that someone else is on his mind, one that cannot compare to her – though it sounds like he doesn’t want to even begin to try. 

“Your aides will be here tomorrow,” Sam reminds her gently, Grace simply nodding at his words. “Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?”

“I want to be alone.”

“Of course. I’ll be outside if you need.”

Once the door closes, Grace lets herself cry, ripping off the wedding ring from her finger and throwing it against the wall in a fit of anger, covering her mouth to keep from crying.

Exiled.

It’s a heavy word, one that she repeats over and over until she can’t hold it in any longer. Her lapses in judgment ended as quickly as they had come. You would never have to endure such a thing, such a rampant disrespect as she.

Neither would Lia.

Speaking to the press is forbidden, something Grace knows is completely off limits and yet she yearns to tell her side of the story, to accuse her husband of the same cruelty that she has inflicted on her own family.

So much to say and no one to say it to that will listen.

“Mother?” comes the voice of one of the girls. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Grace answers quickly. “Stay upstairs, my angels. I’ll be up in a moment.”

Patting her pocket, she realizes that she doesn’t have Thor’s letter, her panicked thoughts sending her toward the foyer to search through her purse.

Steve knocks on the door to your father’s office. It’s early enough for him to know that there is no one else there to answer as his aides aren’t up until another hour.

“Come in,” your father instructs from the other side, Steve opening the door and closing it behind him.

“Your Majesty,” Steve says with a bow of his head.

“This is formal,” your father says with a hint of curiosity in his voice. “And early.”

“I’ve come to tell you that I’m heading out to Brokelen. There’s a threat. Loki escaped his cell and fled.”

“My God,” your father mutters. “What do you need?”

“That’s not why I’m here. I can handle Loki on my own. I’ve come for another matter.”

“Oh?”

Steve places a box on the table, your father looking up at him.

“I want to marry her, Your Majesty. I don’t care where, quite honestly. I just… I know what I feel, former agreements notwithstanding. I would like your permission.”

Your father stands up, pushing the chair back.

“Then you shall have it, my son.”

Steve nods, your father handing him the ring box.

“You must promise me one thing,” your father continues.

“Anything, Your Majesty.”

“You will never crush her spirit the way I did once. Let her be wild, let her be herself. In that, she will be your greatest gift.”

“Of course,” Steve says, emotion overwhelming him for a moment. “Always.”

You catch Steve leaving your father’s office, following him silently as he heads outside, taking in the first sight of dawn.

“Are you leaving me again?” you ask, Steve’s shoulders slightly dropping at your question.

“For a little.”

“Why?”

“Because there is unfinished business I need to complete.”

“Loki,” you reply with a nod of your head. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Steve asks you, his head turning toward you.

“I do. Whatever you must do, I trust you to return.”

“Trust or order?”

“Order,” you reply, your head held high. “There’s much I haven’t learned yet.”

“Is that only what I am to you, Princess?” Steve cups your face in his hands. “Or more?”

“A lady never tells.”

“You tell me so much without words.”

He winks at you, making you laugh before you hold him closer.

“Do you promise to make it back in one piece?”

“I can’t promise that. I couldn’t keep you safe, myself.”

Reaching up behind you, you unclasp your necklace, letting it fall into his hands.

“What did they used to call it in the old times? A favor?” you tell him, closing your hand over his. “You keep it safe until you come back and I promise to be on my best behavior.”

“I’ll have a surprise for you when I return.”

You nod, reaching up to pull down his collar to kiss him.

“I love surprises.”

James opens the door to see Brunn standing in front of him, tossing him a bag that he catches square in his chest.

“Where’s the fight?”

“No fight yet,” Brunn says, turning on her heels. “But we’re going to find King Adam. I have an inkling he knows what’s to come.”

“Does Steve know?”

Brunn continues walking, giving a signal to the Valkyrie that are waiting, rounding the corner while James follows.

“Who do you think sent me?”

“You realize that King Adam probably has his army guarding him wherever he is.”

James looks at the contingent of guards that are waiting, their commander in front of them as he nods at Brunn.

“Then it’s a good thing I know exactly where to find him,” Thor answers him.

[needlereads]

@brandycranby eeeek thank you! here is a snippet from Canvas. This is intended to be part of a Period AU for various characters, including Ransom in Fruition.

skinny!Steve Rogers x woc Reader

~~~

“You were talking to that Rogers woman’s son.”

“Steve,” you nodded while loading your basket with your purchases. “The warm weather has been good for him.”

“Nevermind what’s good for him.” Helen’s mother, Harin, paused in her sweeping near the vegetable stand, resting a hand on her hip. “You need to be careful. No one should be going near that boy.”

You bit back the words on your tongue, the urge to insist that Steve was kind and not a threat to anyone.

~~~

ask game

[whoreforsamwilson]

Next Lifetime (Part 2)

Warning: NONE

Word count: 635

I sat quietly in the back of the Cathedral watching as the love of my life prepared to say his vowels. I could kick my own ass for letting so much time go by without saying anything or acting on my feelings. Now Sam will never know how I truly feel about him.

I’m more so upset with him though, He and Leila had only been engaged for roughly 4 months and had put everything together so quickly.

I wasn’t even expecting to get an invite, but when Sam came up at my door to hand deliver it I felt it was only right to show my support. I made eye contact with Sarah and she gave me a sympathetic smile.

It seemed like we had gotten closer after the shit that went down at the Christmas Party, she gave me some time to cool off before she came barging through my front door and forced me to talk to her.

I smiled and turned my attention back to Sam watching as Lelia wiped a tear from his face with her thumb.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but think about what could have been. I pictured Sam standing there with me, not Leila. I imagined the look in his eyes being for me, the smile on his face for me.

My heart ached at the thought of never having that with him. I took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on being there for Sam, even if it wasn't in the way I had always hoped.

I guess I was in my mind pondering way too long because they were coming up aisle.

I quick grab the faux rose petals that was giving to me as I was being seated and tossed them.

Sam gave me a questioning look as if he wondering if he made the right choice.

I know my approval means everything to him and even if it wasn’t me getting to spend the rest of my life with him, at least I could to be happy for.

I nodded with a smile.

They made their way out of the Cathedral doors and outside to meet the second line we all followed behind them.

I wasn’t up for the celebration I only came enough to show my face, as everybody made their way over to the venue where the reception was held I went up the road to my car.

“I’m guessing I’ll see next week for Sunday dinner ?” Sam’s voice boomed over the music.

I stopped turning to face him, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to do your big walk in?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see my friend off. You okay?” He used that term to loosely it feel like a dagger going straight through me.

Every thing in me wanted to cry and tell him everything, but some how I forced a smile, “Yeah, I’m fine . Don’t worry about go enjoy yourself. Today’s your big day.”

“Sam it’s almost time.” yelled Bucky from the door.

“I’ll be right there,” he yelled back before turning his attention back to me. “Y/N-“

“Sam I’m fine. Now go you don’t want to keep your beautiful bride waiting.” I said rushing him off.

“Sunday 9am sharp.” said Sam turning to run towards the venue.

A few tears ran down my face as I turned and made my way to the car.

It wasn’t until the moment that car pulled out onto the street that I allowed myself to let my emotions run free.

Maybe in a different world, we do end up together and happy, but for now I’ll have to move on and find something and someone to bring me that. Even if it’s not with Sam.

Maybe I could have that in my next lifetime.