#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.

[fakefiller]

Dream of Me.

Warnings — frat!bucky, phone sex, mutual masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, sliiiiight mommy kink if you squint.

You were about to turn in for the night, the intense pain in your lower back, the pain that was keeping you up, slowly dissipated as the clock on your wall ticked. A deep breath of relief ricocheted through the quiet atmosphere and it was almost silent. You let your thoughts escape you, the once rowdy noise in your head being limited to a quiet static.

This wasn’t enough.

You take another deep breath, zeroing in on the silence as you slip a hand into the waistband of your thin, pink panties. The fabric brushes against your wettened hole while you gently rub semi-circles on your clit and you wince at the feeling. Your head falls back into your cool, satin pillows when you insert a finger, the pace and sensitivity driving you closer to your high.

Until your phone rings.

The pink vintage receiver you have hooked up on your bedside table vibrates with every ring and you sob internally, wondering ‘who could be calling at this time of night?’ Without missing a beat of anger, you hastily pick up the phone and shove it to your ear.

“Who is it?” You ask groggily, irritation prominent in your tone.

“I’m sorry for the late call, princess. I just need to know if you have the My Chemical Romance lighter I left on your couch.” Bucky responds, and you feel the tension slip away as he speaks.

“God – can you call later? It’s 2 in the morning and I was busy.” Your voice was meek, trying to tell him what you were doing without saying it.

“I’m about to roll up and I need my lighter. If I didn’t need it, you know I wouldn’t have called right now.”

“Okay well go ask Steve for his! I’m surprised you’re not doing it together. I was busy!”

He can almost hear the way you rolled your eyes into your head, not missing the way your voice got an octave higher. Your hand hovers over your sweet hole, a dull ache replacing the pleasure you once felt.

“He left his with Sharon. Hey – what could you be busy with at-”

“Bucky.” You cut him off sternly with warning in your voice.

“I didn’t peg you as the masturbation type, sweetheart. How’s it going?” Bucky’s question sends electricity to your core. Was he teasing? Or was he genuinely curious?

“It’d be much better if you hung up so I can fucking focus.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. Hang up.”

“You’re more than capable of hanging up, sweetheart.”

“Just do it, Bucky. You’re a pervert.”

He laughs at that, a guttural one. Without thinking, your finger gently slips back into your aching hole, the intrusion causing you to let out a low whimper.

“What was that?” Bucky questions and you snap your legs closed.

“I uh, almost dropped the phone. That’s all.” You breathe out, mentally cursing from being so naive that you could keep quiet.

“I don’t think phones make noises that pretty, baby. You gonna be honest this time?”

His words create a wave of arousal which immediately travels to your soaked cunt. Before you answer, you take a deep breath, blowing out the trapped air from your nose.

“I slipped a finger in. It hurts Buck, I just wanna cum.”

Your admission makes his cock twitch in his sweatpants, his semi becoming a full chub within seconds. He can’t tell if it’s from your voice, the time, or what you just said to him and he doesn’t care to figure it out.

“Touch yourself for me princess.” Bucky coos and your eyes almost roll back into your head.

“I already am.. can you do it with me?” The question floats in the air for a second before anything else is said.

“Y-Yeah I can let me just grab lube – I like it wet.” You can hear him grunt as he reaches for the bottle that you assume is on some kind of night stand.

“Then you’d love me.” You let out a meek laugh. “I’m dripping as I speak.” Unbeknownst to you he bucked his hip into the air at your words, his cock weeping into his boxers with precum.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum before I even start if you keep talking like that.” He sighs, pulling down the restricting layers before flipping open the bottle of lube and pouring some onto the length of him that sat pressed against his abs.

“Sorry – I’m eager. I wanna sleep.” You yawn, fingers gently pressing against your cunt.

“You don’t have to wait on me princess, I’ll catch up.”

“W-What are you wearing right now?” The question startles you, and you're the one who asked it.

“I was wearing gray sweats and the boxers you bought me for friendsgiving but I uh, took them off due to this circumstance.”

You sigh at the thought of him stark naked, cock between his fist and being gently lathered in the smooth liquid.

“Mmm..” Is all you can respond with as you tuck the receiver under your ear and between your shoulder to use your thumb to rub circles on your clit.

“How about you princess?” He takes a beat to lift his cock from its resting place on his stomach and gives it a home in his fist, the pressure making him wince.

“I’m wearing the um, the baby pink set you bought me last week. The bralette and underwear but they're pretty soaked now so..” You reply between pants, trying to find a rhythm between the fingers sliding in and out of you and the tantalizingly slow pace on your sensitive bud.

A guttural groan mixed with sloppy wet noises follows the end of your sentence and it’s obvious how that affected him. He gets lost in the feeling of his hand gliding up and down his shaft to respond.

“I keep going too fast – I wish it was you, here, controlling my pace.” Bucky whispers, and you whine at his words, working in a second finger.

“Yeah? You want mommy there to help you, baby?” You coo, hearing him whimper on the other end.

“Shit, yes, I need you. Wanna feel your pretty cunt grip my cock.” He sighs, fist eagerly pumping up and down.

“Fuck, Jamie–” Your eyes shut with knitted brows accompanying them as you stroke your g-spot with both fingers.

“I love it when you say my name, I gotta hear it when I fuck you.” His moan bellows through the receiver and you hold back your own, scared to wake up your roommate.

“You can take it whenever, James. I’m yours, baby. All – fuck – yours.” Bucky can hear the squelching of your wetness with every thrust of your fingers and it grosses you out but turns him on even more.

“I’m close princess, so close.” He drags out and you don’t miss the echo of his fist hitting the base of his cock with every stroke.

“Me too - I can’t wait to cum all over your thick cock, I need you stretching me out. My fingers aren’t enough.” You cry, your hearing dulling and vision blanking for a few seconds as you imagine him sliding in and out of you and taking the place of your fingers.

It falls silent for a moment until you hear his heavy breathing continue. “Shitshitshit, I’m cumming, fuckohmygod.” His words and your name become a chant, spilling out of his mouth until he’s spent on his stomach, forcing himself through his high.

You spasmed around your fingers, head lulling back into your pile of pillows, voice getting higher and higher. The receiver drops from your shoulder to your chest as your orgasm washes over you, stars of white clouding your mind. Your body goes numb while you come down from your climax, breath escaping you.

“Fuck, I need to see you later. Come by my room after your 2 pm class?” Bucky sighs as beads of sweat drip down his forehead.

“Mhm.” You reply sleepily, pushing the receiver off of you and onto the edge of your bed.

“Goodnight, princess. Dream of me, okay?” Bucky’s voice seemed to have dropped an octave, giving you more fuel to sleep.

All he receives is a faint sigh of approval before you’re fast asleep, legs crossed under the dry part of your comforter. Laundry will a problem for future you but its the last thing on your mind.

comment/reblog to be part of my taglist, enjoy <3

[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?

I have locked my fics posted on the AO3 website.

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.

[writeturnlove]

The Mate: Chapter 5 is coming soon.

It’s a fairly long chapter and I’m doing edits right now. It should be posted this weekend, between March 17th and March 20th.

There’s a significant amount of heat/spicy, in this chapter. There will be several content warnings - many of which I have never used before. No one under 18 should read it.

I love you guys. Thanks for sticking with me.

Love,

Valencia

[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

Official Tag List

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[dc418writes]

The Sweetest Treat

✨Pairing✨: CEO!Steve Rogersxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Looks like the gruff, businessman is a bit of a romantic after all

⚠️: 18+ ONLY!! MINORS DNI!!! Brief mention of nudity, allusions to adult happy fun times, pretty much all fluff

A/N🎙️: Hey guys☺️! This is a cute Valentine’s Day drabble that’s also gonna be a sneak peak/teaser into a new short series idea I’ve been thinking of that I hope you guys like💕!

Also in honor of it being love month🥰 I got a few stories I’m gonna try to put out (some typical and some not so much👀). No promises all of them will come out, but hopefully I can as part of a little Valentines Day celebration✨!

*Disclaimer!: although collage was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest*

The mouse-like squeaks are the first to wake you, cracking open your eye to the dim room. Then the whispers from what sounds like two women are next to completely pull you from your slumber as they slide the curtains open to let the welcoming sun fill the once quiet space.

“Bonjour madame,” the blonde cheerfully smiles. Her burgundy pencil skirt suit pristine without a wrinkle in sight. “We’re here to assist with your day of pampering.”

A yawn slips past your lips as you sit up squinting from the sudden brightness. Sleep and confusion still heavy in your mind looking around to see a cart filled with toast, fruit, pancakes, and more. Steve didn’t tell you anything about an event yesterday.

“I um, think you have the wrong room.” Her eyebrows furrow looking down at her clipboard and skimming along whatever words were written.

“This is room 628, no? And you are Mr. Rogers’ guest, Y/N?”

“Well yea but-,”

“He ordered this for you. And left this note madame,” she adds handing you the small folded paper you can already tell is his handwriting.

I know a thing or two about romance lolli. See you tonight at 7

“Flowers for Miss Y/N,” another voice announces knocking at the door. The brunette next to the blonde - you assume the assistant - opens the door with a pleasant “thank you” before returning back to your bedroom with a bouquet of light purple tulips. You can’t stop your lips from curling as she places them in your hands. Their sweet smell immediately filling your nostrils while you delicately run the pad of your finger along one of the soft petals.

“First we do breakfast. Then shopping, followed by massage and facial, hair, makeup, and mani-pedi. This okay?”

“Yes, definitely more than.”

-

Sitting at the downstairs bar, Steve looks down at the black Rolex on his wrist for the tenth time in the span of five minutes. His usual calm demeanor, noticeably a bit antsy waiting for you to join him. He couldn’t even focus during his meetings constantly wondering if you were enjoying yourself. If those working were handling you with the care you deserved and granting your every wish.

Seven on the dot and you were nowhere to be found. Given, you were probably on your way down now, but what if you weren’t? What if you were actually offended by his gesture and misinterpreting his note to think he only did this for his ego?

He waits though, trying to calm his mind as he fixes his tie then adjusts the sleeves of his black tux.

7:05 and still nothing.

Just as his Italian leather dress shoes hit the tile ready to journey up to the room, he feels every ounce of oxygen leave his body watching you stride towards him. Your curls sat beautifully atop your head in a bun, while the pink satin dress clung to you like a glove. It’s high slit and deep v showing your smooth, shimmery skin tempting him - and probably every other man in sight - for just one touch.

“Sorry, I would’ve been down sooner but emergency potty break,” you shyly smile.

“S’alright, and definitely worth the wait.” His grin has you flustered and whole face heating. “You look beautiful Y/N.”

“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself Mr. Rogers.”

He chuckles a “thanks” before offering his bent arm to escort you out of the bar beginning to grow busier. “You ready?”

Nodding, you let him lead you through the grand lobby where eyes followed both of you out the double doors held open by the two men usually standing guard there. Whispers flowing with every step wondering who you were and in awe of your beauty.

The both of you, really.

Of course you saw how gazes lingered on Steve as if entranced by his walk dripping with confidence. His dominant aura holding them hostage and refusing to let them go.

Tightening your hold on his bicep ever so slightly, you remind yourself that you’re the one on his arm before your head tries to dip low letting that “fish out of water” feeling ruin your excitement.

“Mr. Rogers. Madam,” the chauffeur greets with a warm smile standing beside the all black sedan and holding open the back passenger side door for you both to enter. It’s interior black as well with smooth, leather seats and that new car smell still present along the lining.

“Where to sir?”

“R��vasser please.” With a simple nod, the car carefully pulls onto the street while Steve rises the partition with the press of an overhead button.

“You know, you didn’t have to go through all this to prove you’re a romantic,” you state meeting his glacier like eyes serious as if he was about to make you a deal. Well, another one.

“I’m not doing this just to prove something Y/N. You’re part of this agreement too, and I wanna make sure I’m doing for you just as much as you’re doing for me - and no, not out of obligation. If I didn’t truly care, I wouldn’t have done anything at all. You know that.”

He was right. Steve was a no nonsense type of man who moved with intent.

What he said, he meant, and if he did something, he was all in.

There’s a sudden heaviness in the air as your gazes stay locked. You momentarily forget to breathe under the intensity - yet underlying softness - of his eyes before you can’t take it anymore. Shyly looking down to your fingers and painted nails in your lap.

“Well, um t-thank you,” you nervously smile. “So this place we’re going, you’ve been before?”

“Once or twice. It’s nice; I think you’ll love it.” You nod, but the way your knee bounces he can tell what flashes through your mind. “Hey, it’s just us. No associates or higher ups to impress.”

Besides you you think lifting your head to flash him a softer smile noticeably more relaxed.

It’s only a few minutes later that the car slows to stop in front of a building seemingly made of glass that stood just as high as the others around. The silver accents along the doors and walls in the form of frames and screens made it look futuristic as you and Steve were led through the dimly lit lobby to the large elevators towards the back.

“Are we eating on the moon?,” you jokingly ask taking note of the RFT button brightly lit at the top of the panel.

“Something like that,” Steve chuckles. His fingers slipping through yours by your side makes tingles spread up the entirety of your arm while anxiously waiting for the final ding to signal you’d arrived to whatever he had planned for you.

“Mr. Rogers. Miss,” the lean, suited man smiles extending his arm just as the metal doors slide open to reveal a runway of white petals leading to a circular table. The only table waiting on the quiet rooftop deck.

The sheer tablecloth - covered with two elegant place settings - lightly blows from the passing breeze appearing even more dreamy than before as you both step closer. A small smile spreads across Steve’s lips watching you take in everything with lips slightly parted and clear awe in your features. It surprisingly has a redness and heat creeping along his ears making him feel like a teenage boy.

Coincidentally, the last time he ever blushed.

“What do you think?”

“I honestly can’t right now,” you softly laugh looking from the table to the amazing view of clouds and a setting sun painting the sky a mix of orange and pink in front of you. “Steve this…I…it’s beautiful.”

That adorable smile, along with the little crinkles beside your eyes, will forever be ingrained in his mind. The way the setting sun complimented your skin making you look so ethereal and goddess-like, he’s seconds from picking up his old hobby of drawing again just so he can capture this moment to hold for himself.

God, your beauty was something that wasn’t found every day. Just a mere glimpse of you and Steve could feel his usual hard and unreadable composure falter.

And this wasn’t just about your physical features. The way your light personality made him stray from the calculated man his position created him to be - always looking for the next deal with no time for distractions - and brought a new burst of life he quickly wanted to chase after.

Pulling out your seat, he waits for you to get comfortable before helping to scoot in your chair; loving the faint whiff of your sweet perfume that tickles his nostrils. Your eyes stay glued to his chest where his white button down stretches against his pecs as he removes his suit jacket before taking his own seat to join you.

Mentally he’s smirking feeling your eyes pleasurably enjoying such a small task, and when he briefly looks up from his menu to see you quickly look down at yours, obviously flustered, he physically feels his ego grow twice it’s size.

“See anything you like?,” he asks feigning innocence and pure wonder as if referring to the list of gourmet dishes, but you both know otherwise.

-

Your giggles can surely be heard down the hall as Steve effortlessly carries you to your room. The two bottles of champagne and award worthy five course meal clearly enhancing your bubbly and playful mood.

At your mere casual comment of being ready to get out your heels, he took it upon himself to lift you in his bulky arms as soon as you entered the lobby. The receptionist, and a couple other onlookers, either quietly giggling or awing at the sweet gesture.

“Steve I can walk perfectly fine,” you whisper ducking your head into his neck trying to hide from the attention.

“I know,” he simply responds before nodding hello to the bellhop as the older gentleman hits the top button for the clearly occupied businessman.

“You two have a good night.”

When you finally reach your door, he gently places you on your feet to remove the keycard from his pocket. All the while, his large hand still on your waist keeping you close in front of him.

“Thank you,” you smile as he ushers you in the elegant suite. “And I better not get a bill from your chiropractor. I tried to get you to put me down in the elevator.”

He simply just held you tighter telling you to, “enjoy the ride.”

“You won’t,” he softly chuckles.

With a dramatic, euphoric sigh, you flop back on the bed with arms above your head as you let your body be comforted and caressed by the plush, Egyptian cotton. So incredibly soft and cool you just knew lying on a cloud would feel exactly the same. He knew you didn’t mean for it to, but watching you innocently lie there with all your curves and dress slightly rising as you gently squirmed getting more comfortable had his feet glued and front of his pants beginning to feel tighter wishing he was the reason for those little movements and moans.

Clearing his throat, he tries to distract himself with removing his tie but it’s embarrassingly more difficult than usual.

“Need some help there?”

“N-No..I guess I uh tied this knot a little too tight.”

“Here let me.” Before he can protest, you’re at his chest carefully working at the tightened knot - and his eyes unable to leave your lips pressed together in concentration - until it’s loose and able to be pulled through his collar. “Done.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Although finished you don’t move, and neither does Steve holding his tie by his side. Each of your eyes taking in every beautiful facial feature of the other until they fall to each other’s waiting lips. You’re the first to move slowly leaning in until your mouth’s make contact. Sparks tingling against your skin and tongue with every swipe only making you crave more as you press your body closer to his.

“Don’t feel like you have to do this,” he breaths resting his forehead against yours.

“I don’t. And knowing you’d never expect anything in return only makes me want you more Stevie.”

He doesn’t even cringe on your use of his childhood nickname he’s that entranced by you. Plus it just sounds oh so sweet rolling off your tongue.

His left hand finds the side of your neck as the other slowly slides the strap of your dress down your shoulder so he’s able to kiss and nip with no barriers. You’re a mess of slick and whimpers already feeling his soft lips travel from your collarbone to the top of your breast. Soon he’s back to your lips as if trying to steal your breath - and ability to think clearly at this rate - until his body comfortably presses you into the mattress and your legs automatically wind around his hips. Your fingers move frantically trying to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, but then your wrists are locked above your head while Steve’s nimble finger teases between your slit dragging upwards until he reaches your needy little nub.

You try to suppress your moans in fear of being too loud as your back begins to arch, but the way he circles and rubs it just right you can’t help the way your lips slightly part allowing them to easily fill the warmly lit space.

“Tonight’s all about you Lolli, remember?”

[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:

[neonovember]

Careful

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6

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

The sound of chirping birds sifts through the linen curtains draped over the balcony doors, and the gentle breeze of the early morning cause goose bumps to arise across your body strewn about the disturbingly large bed.

Through the haze of half-sleep, you peek one eye open, catching the enormous ceiling-high windows overlooking a meticulously manicured lawn, with tinted cars parked on the cobblestone driveway and everything's all wrong and this isn't your house.

Your heart drops to the depths of your stomach, and everything slows like a picture, you squeeze your eyes shut to will yourself back into the slumber you had just felt before but all you are met with is a nauseous burn crawling up your throat.

You can't think twice before you shoot up from the bed, miraculously finding the bathroom just in time before pouring the entirety of your stomach into the porcelain toilet. You weren't one to get sick, no matter how much you had used that excuse at work, and the putrid stench of day-old liquor rang familiar in your mind as you continued to dry heave.

You don’t waste time before reaching for the flush, watching the disgusting weakness of your strength wash away into the underground sewers, you can't bare to look at yourself and you wish you could wash away the embarrassment just as easily.

Your preoccupation with yourself has momentarily distracted you from the alarming reality of the foreign room you had awakened in, and you suddenly feel that fear blooming within you for the first time in weeks. You hadn't really noticed, but you were less scared of well, everything when Steve had inserted himself into your life, and now you wished you could go back.

Your ears perked up for any sign of movement outside your door but it was desolate, you reached for a candle stick perched on the basin before opening the bathroom door. Eyes surveying the expansive room, you can't help but expect your husband to barge in, laughing down at you as you were captured within his palm yet again.

The prospect wasn't entirely outlandish, you know your husband owned several properties he kept in secrecy, and you hadn't had the stomach to find out what he had them for. Yet something was gnawing at the edges of your mind to step forward, like an unconscious shadow within you, guiding your body towards the door and stepping into the room you had run from. The fear was there, as it always was, but you weren't holding your breath, your body didn't chill from the air of evil that always seemed to emit near your husband.

Your eyes survey the expansive bed situated in the middle of some sort of guest room, even despite your hasty escape, the room looked impeccable, wainscotting outlining the ceiling-high walls, with the shine of sunlight pouring in from the balcony windows like honey.

The marble floors reminded you of your own bedroom you had occupied for years months ago, and suddenly the elated feeling of luxury leaves just as easily as it came.

It unnerved you, being in the presence of such opulence after months of your bare quaint apartment. Even though you had lived in it for years before, it was never truly yours, this life was never truly yours. You were only ever borrowing it until your husband would find the balls to get rid of you.

Your eyes catch a note on the bedside table however, and written in that elegant ink that belongs to only one man that had strung you along in the palm of your hand is placed on a silver tray, along with a pill and a bottle of water, still cold from the tap.

Your fear begins to dissipate from your stomach, as you realise that your anonymity had remained unchanged, and you weren't back into the cage of your husband's imprisonment.

You reach for the note, eyes skimming the perfect lettering you secretly envy;

“You got into a little trouble last night, brought you here to keep you save”

You scrub your face with a hand, mentally thanking him for not delving into the details of what you knew was a haunting moment of weakness.

God, you can’t believe you had done that, let yourself get so weak you sunk back into an addiction you thought you had overcome. It was harrowing how quick it had happened, one moment you were walking home and the next you were crowd-surfing across the bar.

“P.S, take the pill, it’s Advil and if I really wanted to poison you I would’ve done it in your sleep”

You scrutinise the white chalky pill anyway, observing the A outlined in the middle, you roll your eyes before looking down at your attire. Pink striped Pajamas.

You bristle as you realise he would have had to undress you whilst you were in a haze of drunkenness.

And suddenly that’s enough to reignite the temper that had been stamped out by the waves of liquor you had foolishly consumed.

He had lied to you, even if you felt protection here, he had lied, and he did it straight to your face. Did he think you were foolish? Just a stupid girl from a town no one knows that he could take advantage of? You couldn't bear to keep the fueled rage burning within you.

Reaching for the Advil, you swallow it with gulps of water that ease your parched throat, before searching around the enormous room for the clothes you had gotten drunk in. You find them folded neatly on an ottoman to the side, and make quick work of slipping them on before storming out of the room.

You don’t know where you're going, the endless hallways are as foreign to you as the paintings occupying the walls, but you follow the dyed carpet’s twists and turns hoping to stumble into Steve’s office.

Your mind is too preoccupied with the rage brewing within you, your eyes fail to catch the figure watching you closely from one of the hallway doors, causing you to stumble into a brick wall of pure muscle and heat.

You catch yourself at the last minute, looking up to meet familiar slate-grey eyes peering down at you in interest

“You’re up already?” Bucky says, his hand coming to steady you but retracting at the last minute and falling back into the pocket of his suit jacket.

“I want to speak to Steve” You reply, ignoring his attempt at small talk, or more so his declaration of your consciousness.

“Steve? Well-” Bucky beings before you cut him off momentarily

“Don’t give me that bullshit alright? I need to speak to Steve, now” You reply in indignation, Bucky watches you carefully, eyes scanning across your face as he nods slowly. You don't notice his eyes fixated on your fists wrapped in a tight fists. Your voice falters toward the end and you hope you sound as confident as you feel.

“Follow me” Bucky replies with a sigh, and as you walk side by side with Bucky, the click of his dress shoes clashes with the gruff sound of your work boots. You would never harmonise with this life, it's as clear as the shoes you wear.

You try and memorise the left and rights that Bucky takes you, as a kind of backup in case things go wrong and you need a way out, fast. It’s irrational you know, but you can only blame your husband for destroying your idea of rationality.

Bucky turns down a corridor, and you are immediately met with a rush of men in suits carrying boxes and briefcases, leaving and entering the enormous double french doors situated at the end of the hallway like an army of ants. Men stand stationed outside the doors and along the hallway unmoving, like formations of statues pillaring themselves in front of Steve.

The glint of their guns shines iridescent against the morning raze, and you understand that Bucky has some sort of clearance as they merely nod without a word as you pass them.

You and Bucky are about to pass through the double doors before a familiar face pokes at you, eyes widening at your presence in a clearly confidential space, the man that had talked with you with Bucky those weeks ago murmurs into Bucky's ear, the gruff sound of his voice hidden beneath hushed whispers.

You crain your ear to catch anything, but all you can make out is Bucky’s whisper of your name, along with “last night”. Sam shifts his gaze towards you, and a look you can't quite decipher falls over his face. Bucky is continuing to whisper to Sam but he doesn't take his eyes off of you, and finally, after a moment he simply nods and opens the door for the both of you.

The oak doors open into an enormous office space, the panelled french walls are washed with a chestnut gloss, oil paintings of war and glory hang on the walls and every corner has a designated purpose. A bar towards the left is graced with brown liquor in glass bottles and you have to turn away from it to calm the churning in your stomach.

Situated in the middle is a large walnut desk, carved with intricate patterns and relics along its sides, matching leather seats surrounding the desk, the floors a deep mahogany wood you crave to feel the cold touch of beneath your toes.

Men surround the office, some stationed behind the balcony windows, others near the bookcases lining the ceiling-high walls, and you don't notice it at first, but the second you walk in, everything stops. The sound of urgent whispers and conversations comes to a halt as they all stare towards you in fixed interest.

You didn't know this, but there had been no other individuals besides Steve’s men and himself, who had the ability to step foot into this floor of the house, let alone Steve's own office, and they can't help but ogle you like a piece of meat.

You catch their eyes all over you, pulling your stained cardigan closer against your body, you feel Bucky bristle beside you, his grunt of disapproval towards the men, shooting a silent warning that causes them to look away without a blink.

Steve's dirty blonde hair is tousled across his face, and he mutters something under his breath as he looks up from his seat at the office desk. His eyes immediately find you, unblinking as he never leaves your face, the papers in his grasp fall to the table, and let out an exhale as you match his gaze.

Bucky coughs and it’s as if Steve finally realises you're not the only person in the room,

��She wanted to speak to you,” Bucky says, his shoes tapping against the wooden floors, Bucky gives Steve a silent look, nodding towards the men fixated on your presence.

“Did I tell you all to stop?” Steve says in a booming voice you've never heard him use.

They all immediately get back to the phone calls in their hand and the tasks they had ignored at your expense. Steve stands from his seated position near the desk, his suit jacket laying over the office chair, leaving him in a crisp white shirt with a leather shoulder holster tucked into dark black suit pants.

Steve nods towards the balcony, and you step towards the glass doors slowly, you can feel the heat of Steve's hand near the small of your back, gently manoeuvring you through the room and men and through the doors of the balcony.

The gentle breeze of the morning lets you finally let in a breath you hadn't realised you had kept in, your eyes find themselves looking towards the manicured lawn below, gardeners and housekeepers are knelt pulling and plucking at the overgrown weeds, snipping away at leaves and bushes until they were smooth and pristine. Flowers are planted across the lawn, in a discreet way that makes you notice how the colours harmonise, and a ceramic fountain near the middle sprouts out water that shines against the sun.

You notice stepping stones snaking their way to the edge, leading to a vines archway where a vegetable garden hidden under a mesh covering meets your gaze, you try and look further past the vines walls, seeing the top of what looks like a stone pavilion under a low hanging tree that looks like its melting, but Steve steps towards you and you stop immediately.

“You wanted to tell me something?” Steve says, and you look towards him, eyeing his expression. He looks like he truly wants to listen to you and hear what you have to say despite the business of his life.

“Yes, I uh-” You start before the balcony doors open, and a slicked-back mop of black hair enters the balcony, the sound of a voice that you wish you would never hear again causing your stomach to twist into a sharp knot.

Rumlow whispers towards the man stationed beside the balcony doors, relieving him from his position and instead taking his place. His eyes find your own frozen ones, a glint of a smirk pulling at his features and he raises his eyebrows mockingly.

Steve notices the sick look that falls over your face, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion at the sudden change in your demeanour.

“Hey, hey, you alright?” Steve asks in worry, but you can't take your eyes off of Rumlows condescending smile, as if he had known you would be here, his eyes almost threatening you to tell Steve what he had done before the tap of his pistol causes you to swallow down the bile rising from your throat.

“I um, I uh” You stutter out, and Steve looks at you in worry, his hands coming up to steady you causing you to flinch automatically.

“Fuck” Mutters Steve under his breath and he quickly retracts his hand, he begins to say something but you can’t hear anything besides the ringing in your ear and the rhythmic tap of Rumlows gun.

You shake your head, hands in tight fists that cause indentations to form in your palm, Rumlow clocks his head to the side, behind Steve, giving you a silent warning

Careful.

And he walks through the balcony doors and back into Steves's office like he was never there.

You let out a constricted breath, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them to make sure he was truly gone, Steve gently murmurs your name, and you turn your attention back to him, meeting concerned eyes.

Steve's words finally break through the surface, and your grapes his arm, causing goosebumps to arise across your skin. Steve looks up at you in surprise, his large hand coming to wrap yours around his, feeling the rapid beat of your heart slamming against your chest.

‘Just focus on me, alright? Don’t worry about anything else, I just want your eyes on me, okay? Can you do that for me?” Steve whispers, and you nod slowly. Watching the swirls of blue and grey clash like waves within his eyes.

You stay like this for a while, until the rapid beat of your pulse slows to a rhythmic beat, but Steves keeps your arms wrapped around his own, and you hope to god he does feel the goosebumps arising on your skin.

“What happened just now?” Steve says after a beat, his brow locks falling over his face

“I uh, I don't know, I just starting feeling sick,” You say, teeth biting down onto your bottom lip in nervousness.

Any other time that excuse had worked, whether it be at work or family or any other instance when you felt the ground beneath threaten to give way. But the way Steve looks at you now, in that air of scepticism, it’s like he doesn't believe a single thing that left your mouth.

And it's like you've been called out, the embarrassment of lying causing you to look away.

Steve sighs before nodding,

“I’ll get one of my men to arrange your drive home,” Steve says

“Could you, could Bucky take me home instead?” You say, and Steve looks towards you, a glint of something in his eye as he looks through the windows of the balcony doors, eyes fixated on Bucky before replying with a strained sure.

You step towards the balcony doors, hand coming up to grasp the handle before Steve stops you

“We are going to have to talk about it eventually,” Steve says

“Talk about what?” You turn your head to meet Steves's gaze

“Talk about why you're scared shitless of Rumlow” Steve replies, and you towards him in open-mouthed shock.

How did he know?

Steves share a pointed look, “I see everything, even things that happen behind my back. When I see you later tonight, do me a favour?”

You nod quickly, shutting your open mouth.

“Don’t lie to me” Steve mutters, before opening the balcony doors for you, his hand pressed tight against the small of your back as his warmth tickles the side of your neck.

[fakefiller]

Our Little Secret.

Warnings — frat!bucky x reader, frat!steve x reader, kidnapping, mean!bucky, lots of degradation, protected sex bc they’re sluts??, crying during sex, threesome, mean-ish!reader, slapping, anal.

A/N — from the list of writing ideas from @kinanabinks <3 such a lovely writer

It was the biggest game of the year and you knew this. The rancid smell of the suit made your nostrils ache and stomach churn. ‘The extra credit will be worth it, they said’ you repeat to yourself as you put on the head of the otter suit, physically recoiling when the fur comes in contact with your face.

“I think it’s in here!” You hear a voice yell, more footsteps following behind it.

Panic sits in your gut but you decide not to react. Instead, you do your best to quickly – yet quietly – hide in the broom closet of the locker room. You stand bunched up behind the shelf that holds the mop bucket and broom, keeping your breaths to a minimum.

“Where the fuck could a mascot have gone?” The voice was right outside of the broom closet and you’re trying your absolute best not to move but your foot itches.

Your fucking foot itches.

You lean down to scratch the bottom of your shoe with the otter arm, failing terribly and slipping on a wet rag. “Fuck!” You yell, holding your knee in the fetal position.

The boys return to the door, twisting the knob, giving you no time to react to the intrusion. You wince and do your best to stand, preparing to charge at the group but as more appear you lose the faux confidence you once had. Adrenaline builds up in your veins and you rush them anyway, head butting one of them in the abs unsuccessfully. You fly back onto the ground with a soft scoff and the group laughs, almost offended you tried to take them on.

“Look at this fucking idiot.” The tall brunette laughs manically, resting his hand on his stomach.

“Buck, don’t be rude. Let’s just take him and go.” The taller blonde suggests, and it doesn’t register that they think you’re a guy.

“Yeah, yeah. Grab him, Steve. Me and the others’ll make sure the coast is clear.”

“Yes sir.” Steve reaches down to pick you up and you gasp at how easily he throws you over his shoulder.

All you remember is being put in the back of a white van and blacking out from how rough the brown-haired boy was driving. ‘College fucking sucks’ you think to yourself, rolling your eyes as you sit strapped to a chair in what looks like a basement. The room is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a small window. Your head is spinning, various thoughts racing through your mind but the only one you’re sure of is that they can’t kill you. Their DNA is all over your school's locker room.

“Well, well, well. Let’s see who we have this year.” Bucky announces, beginning to undo the straps of the otter head.

“No way you fucking lames do this middle-school ass ritual every year.” You scoff, shaking your hair out of your face as he pulls off the helmet.

“Oh, shit.” Steve chuckles, swiping his hand over his face.

“We fucked up.” Bucky rubs his temples, a look of fear taking over his expression.

“No shit! It’s been guys every year, why choose a girl now?” Steve questions.

“Can I go now..” You yawn, tossing your head back against the back of the wooden chair.

“Uh – yeah. Keep this between us? I need to start in the game tonight. There’s supposed to be NFL scouts there.” Bucky confesses and Steve stares at him with a ‘just let her go’ look.

“Our little secret.” You nod.

“I’m untying you now.” Steve expresses, approaching you with his hands up.

“Make it speedy, I have to re-do my hair because of you dickheads.” You sigh, flexing your wrist in the suit as he unties each of your limbs.

“There you go.” Steve huffs as he stands back up, taking a second to take in your beauty in the dimly lit room.

“I’ll call you an uber.” Bucky adds as he pulls out his phone, being as quick as possible.

“Do me a favor and stay off my campus.” You add, staying seated until he lets you know that your ride is here.

A week has passed since the Incident, leaving you somewhat shook but free from ever being in that awful suit again. That is, until you see them. Both of them.

You walk into your local cafe, prepared to order your usual until their faces come into your line of vision. The anger in your stomach festers. Thanks to them, you missed your date with Pietro before the game and you still feel horrible about it.

“Dude, I think that’s the chick we kidnapped.” Bucky whispers to Steve and he turns back, making direct eye contact with you.

You don’t miss the way the anger in your stomach falters when he looks you up and down, admiring the way your miniskirt sits on your hips.

“Next in line.” Kennedy calls out and waves you up.

“I didn’t know you worked today, Ken! I would’ve come up way sooner.” You leaned against the counter, giving your friend a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m about to go on break, meet outside in 10?” She smiles, handing you a bag with an unreleased cake pop in it.

“You know it, see you then.” You blow her kiss and inevitably feel the two large boys staring daggers into you.

“They did what?!” Kennedy gasps.

“Mhm. I won’t lie, I was petrified but I realized they’re just football players. Just because they go to the much richer school across from us didn’t mean shit to me.” You shrug, sipping on the iced caramel latte nursed in your hand.

“I wanna be you when I grow up. You had a group of super hot, super tall football players kidnapping you for fun! I can’t believe you didn’t fuck at least one of them.” She laughs, taking a drag from the dull cigarette.

“You’re just a shameless slut.” You scoff playfully, not fully against the proposition. “I had a date with Piet that I ended up missing but still, I couldn’t go out with another guy after getting trained. That’s fucked.”

“Maybe morally, but it’s not illegal. If I were you, I’d go find them and fuck them but that’s just me.” She shrugs, dropping the cigarette butt to the ground and stomping it out.

“Remind me why you’re in SAA again?”

“Oh fuck off.” Kennedy replies with a chuckle, pushing you up from your chair. “I’m being serious! Live life and have fun, we’re in college for fuckssake.”

“Fine, fine! I’ll go fuck two random college boys who tried to kidnap me because they thought I was a guy.” You’d be lying if the idea wasn’t exciting you.

“I want all the details after. Shit, just record it.” She gives you a wink and shoos you inside.

To your disbelief, they’re still sitting at the booth that was given to them 30 minutes ago. You swallow your anxiety and march over to them with your head held high and thighs almost clenching together. Without a word said you sit down next to the blonde who you somehow trust more than the brunette.

“I want you to fuck me. Both of you. At once.”

Bucky looks at Steve and Steve looks at Bucky with a concerned look, and you start to panic. Why would you listen to Kennedy?

“Your place or ours?” Bucky asks with his head resting on his knuckles.

“Yours. I don’t want anyone I know to see me with you.” You retort quickly, avoiding eye contact with either of them.

“So what are we waiting for, exactly?” Steve asks.

“Wait – ya’ll have condoms, right? I don’t wanna catch whatever you two might have.”

“If you’re so sure we’re useless fuckboys that might ‘have something’ why even fuck us, hm?” Bucky taunts.

“Just shut up and take me to your place.” You push yourself out of the booth and Steve follows your action, Bucky reciprocating it on the other side.

Not a single word was spoken when you were pushed against the door of their apartment, Steve fumbling with the keys and Bucky kissing you feverishly. You moan in unison as you stand on the tips of your toes to hold onto his face when the door swings open. Steve tosses the keys, stripping away his flannel and pulling you out of Bucky’s grasp. Bucky has no time to be mad, instead kicking the door closed with the back of his shoe. The door slams and you jump, sighing when Steve picks you up and tosses you onto his exposed shoulder.

Bucky follows behind like a lost dog, wasting no time on tearing away his shorts and boxers, fumbling through his dresser drawer for two condoms.

“Shouldn’t we warm her up first, Buck?” Steve asks, removing his shorts while you do the same with your skirt.

“Nah. She wants to act like a slut so we’ll fuck her like one. Cockhungry whores don’t get special treatments.” Bucky replies, each word hitting your core.

“Is that what you want? To be fucked like a senseless slut?” Steve moves his hand under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. Before you can reply, you get distracted by the faint ‘schlick’ the condom makes while Bucky slides it onto his twitching cock. “Answer me.” He demands, gently slapping the skin of your cheek.

You moan at the sensation, a meek ‘yes’ floating in the silent room.

“She’s into that rough shit. I’ll make sure to ruin her good.” Bucky meant for it to be a silent thought to himself but you heard it, rolling your eyes back into your head.

“I need both of you at once, I can take it.” You utter, your voice smaller than you intended it to be.

“Shit, she’s insatiable. Hurry up, Ste. Can’t keep her waiting, can we?”

Steve nods and carefully rips open the Magnum, stroking his aching cock before stretching the rubber around it.

“You ready, sweet thing?” Steve asks, moving to position himself behind you while Bucky situates himself between your legs from the front.

“Mh–” You’re cut off by a quick intrusion, the words on your tongue morphing into a loud moan.

Bucky’s cock sinks into your tight cunt with ardor while Steve fills your ass to the brim. You’ve never felt so full. Thinking back to your conversation with Kennedy you feel for your phone and grab it from under the pillow, flipping to the camera on shaky hands.

“We good to move, baby?” Steve asks quietly between closed teeth.

You nod, allowing yourself to get used to the feel. Your eyes screw shut and you throw your head back, back arching up into the air to expose your tits to Bucky. Steve sighs as the tip of him envelops in the warmth of your tight hole. He presses himself a little deeper inside, slowly filling you up until you were sure you couldn't take anymore, and then you did. His pace moving inside of you was agony as he stretches you like a rubber band.

Bucky’s tip hit the wet spongy spot inside of you without trying, his thick length making it impossibly hard to feel anything but him. He let out a heavy breath, looking down at you with a focused stare. "You're so fucking tight for such a dumb slut." he told you, straining to control himself as you clench around him. You take it graciously, nothing but heavy breaths and shallow whines escaping from you as you stretch around him.

Your lips form to say something, but the words die on your tongue as Steve slowly moves to pull out of you. He stops at the tip before pushing back inside, not quite fully seated back inside of you as he builds a steady pace. It was slow and gentle enough to make you feel like crying.

You were speechless, breathless, as you relish in the burn. You bury your face in the pillow next to your head, dropping your phone to grip them tightly as your fingers let you. When Steve pulled out to the tip again, he pressed one hand to your lower belly before he thrust into you.

The scream you let out was otherworldly when Steve and Bucky began to thrust in unison. Your core was lit aflame, clit throbbing painfully. It’s almost as if Steve could sense it, the way he maneuvered his hand down to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves. Bucky whimpered when you clenched around him, almost suffocating his cock. They watched with dark eyes as you struggled to take them at once like you promised you could.

Bucky takes Steve’s place and settles his hand on your stomach, feeling himself inside of you while he thrusts, the feeling of your body trying to take all of him making him impossibly harder. Steve was rutting himself into you from behind, watching the way your hole took everything it could get.

“Fuck, baby, you’re taking us so well. You were made for us – fuck – weren’t you?” Bucky praises, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

You whimper in response, words falling flat no matter how hard you try to push them out. His cock drags in and out of you in the most delicious way, gathering a feeling of ecstasy you could never reach without him. He was so thick, so big, he was perfect. He whimpered into your ear as Steve relentlessly fucked into you, his face inches from your own. He practically growled into your ear, voice dripping with pleasure as he spoke. "Gonna fucking ruin you, needy fucking slut.”

Tears were gathering in the corner of your eyes as you raised your hand before your head to hold onto Steve’s tousled hair, gripping his locks as you tugged on them. You spoke through the haze of senseless euphoria, shaking your head. "Don't want anyone else. Want you, only you two."

When the tight coil of your orgasm became sharper you knew you couldn’t last. How could you when you have the two hottest men you’ve ever seen plowing into you at the same time? Your mind was blank, words escaping you. All you could make out was a faint ‘m gonna cum’ before the dam burst, your body convulsing as you ride out your high on the sensation of their cocks driving into you with no end in sight.

You held onto Bucky like he would slip away at a moment's notice as he continued to fuck into you. You thrashed and moaned as tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks.

“ShitShitShit, I’m gonna-” Steve didn't get to finish the word, interrupted by a shout as he finally came. His hips stuttered and your bodies pressed closely together as he came as deeply inside of the condom as he could. “F..Fuck, sweetheart!” Bucky followed right after, allowing the mind-numbing, vision-dulling pleasure to take over his body while he spilt his seed into the protective rubber. You were so tiny underneath them as each one huffed and moaned on top of you.

You blacked out for a second, coming back down to reality when Steve's sloppy kisses peppered the skin on your naked shoulder. All three of you had to catch your breaths, too wrapped up in the other to worry about anything but getting your breathing even before you blacked out. You stayed like that for a moment, basking in the feeling of each thick cock filling you up.

“Holy, fucking, shit.” Steve breathes out, slowly pulling himself out of your ass.

“I know, right?” Bucky huffs, reciprocating Steve’s action, removing himself from your puffy cunt.

“Can I… spend the night?” You request with a sigh, sitting up to end the video on your phone.

“You can stay the month if you want to, baby. Our little secret, right?” Bucky asks, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead while Steve cleans up.

“Our little secret.”

[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.

[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.