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bunnybearmarvel · 1 year

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Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst.

CHAPTER THREE

“Wake up, buttercup!” Natasha cheerily exclaims, clapping her hands together after successfully pulling back the curtains to let the sunshine in your desolate quarters. You groaned sleepily turning your head towards the other direction, until she peeled the covers back from you.

“Uh-uh, we are not letting you sleep in the bed for days on end again.” the red head tuts, pulling your limp arm and ushering you towards a seating position. “Today, we're going out and walking on sunshine vampy.”

“No. Let me wallow in doubt and sadness.” you whine, eyes shut. You were still in dreamland, nestled in the covers with the ac on full blast— and you could literally spend days in the bed it feels like. You were always so sleepy and tired.

Part of you blamed it on over-thinking. Your brain must have been fueling up for all of your racing thoughts. Or it was only during sleep that you weren't thinking anything.

“Can't. The sun is up and the day is to be conquered. Where's your fucking spirit?”

“Oh wait! I remember where i left it, let me check.” you wiggled, making her hold loosen before you dived back into the sheets.

Comfy. So so nice.. you rub your face in Clark's pillow, sighing out in bliss. Just as you were about to doze off again..

“Nat!” you bellow, feeling yourself get lifted off the bed and towards the en suite.

“We're going out and fucking things up dollface! No excuses!”

☁️

“I feel like richard gere and you're my bitch- well, technically not one, but you get my point.” Nat nonchalantly puts down the menu, staring at you from across the table.

There was an astounding array of shopping bags placed neatly along the floor, both of you going haywire on different shops and swiping daddy's plastics, and only when you calmed down did you realize how much clothes you bought.

You'd feel bad, yet both Steve and Clark had gaslighted you early on that it isn't real money princess. So you went on your merry way each time and thought as if you were only playing pretend.

“Why can't i be a bitch?” you mutter, inbetween bites of garlic bread, basically inhaling the small tray of decadent pastry. It was crunchy, and soft on the inside with hints of melted cheese. Ohmy, you wanted to gobble it up.

Nat looked at you as if you were stupid. “Because.. you're rainbows, and butterflies and shiny shimmering glitter.”

You made a face, “You're saying i'm made of nice things? Aww, naty.”

“Yes, and if i put you in my mouth, you'll melt like a cotton candy.” she flippantly voices, which made both of you stare at eachother— silent and intent gazes, before bursting into laughter. Giggling at the unknown double entrede.

“Hello, madamme.” Your head snaps towards a slightly familiar older man decked in a pristine suit, an easy yet flattering grin on his face. “How are you finding your lunch? Has anyone taken your order yet?”

“Oh, hey ben. It's pleasant, as it always is. We've actually just placed our orders,” You smile in response.

“Oh that's great! and you're here with Mrs. Barnes, i see.” He politely nods to the red head. “Will you be joining Mr. Kent at the second floor? He's got an entourage, but i doubt it's concerning business. It appears to be more casual.”

“Is that so? I mean, Clark did say something about a lunch. Who's he with?” Your mouth moves faster than you could think.

In reality, the only thing you've recieved from both of them were casual goodmornings and update as to where they were. Steve was in France, Clark said he was in Russia. Atleast, that was what they told you.

“The usual, madamme. A couple of security details, and a new secretary. She seems to be new, atleast from who Mr. Kent usually keeps in his payroll.” The host narrates, thinking nothing of it. Everyone was already well aware of how much you meant to your husbands— to the point where nobody would bat an eye if they were seen out with another woman. Nobody could possibly believe they would replace you.

And you hated to jump into conclusions, but why would he need to lie?

Your heart wanted to lurch out of your chest. Nat's clearing of her throat made you snap out of your spiral; and you schooled your features back into a cheery expression once again.

“Well, if Mr. Kent wouldn't mind our presence.”

☁️

“.. I was actually a scholar of Kent foundation. Can you believe it? Our fates, so intertwined. It was really as if we were meant to be.” Lois gushes, leaning over in her chair, looking at him as if she were about to jump his bones.

Frankly, it made him quite uncomfortable. Nothing about this - if you could even call it a date, it was more like a formal gathering or a meet of sorts that he was inclined to arrange- felt natural, nor right.

Clark wanted to rely on his base instincts for direction but he couldn't grope for a shred of connection. Not even a silver of fondness, which is strange, considering thag they were supposed to be compatible— the person oppsite of him bore the genetic compatibility, as per several tests.

Though, what she said piqued his interest. “Which part of town would you say?”

“Upper east side,” Lois responds. Clark shifted in his seat, a smile making it's way to his features which held a considerable sway in her judgement. He asks a few more questions in that honeyed voice of his, to which she absently replied at.

“Huh, would you look at that.” He leans back in his seat, gears in his head turning but he maintained an easy smile on his face, mirth dancing in the darkened blue of his eyes.

“How about i permanently move your residence in, say, one of my towers?” Lois' breath hitched at the proposal.

“I-i mean, sure if that's what you want.” she gathered herself for a while, before remembering to act bashful and blinking up at him rapidly, smiling coyly. “I'm yours afterall. Your mate.”

You can hear the jeers and the laughter, staying through the conversation, until you found yourself feeling literal pangs of hurt in your chest. Fuck. What does all of this mean?

“Let me kill this son of a whore,” Nat was about to angrily storm inside, but you managed to stop her, putting an arm out.

“Don't even bother.” you murmur, finding it hard to find your own voice. At that point, you felt almost numb— as if your brain was shutting down from what you've heard, finding it difficult to process at all.

You woke up with the hope of your marriage still intact. Thinking, rather stupidly, that this was just a rather difficult hurdle in your marriage. Thinking that perhaps, this was all just a big misunderstanding like what you were repeatedly assured of.

But this was beyond even your wildest dreams. Nothing made sense. It was as if your world was crashing down on you all at once. True mates? It mocks you repeatedly.

Steve and Clark told you that you were the one. You believed them, because why would they lie to you? They had no reason to!

To get in your pants, silly. The rational, or was it pessimistic part of you said.

You blinked away the tears, turning around, and indulging in the manical urge that clouded all your rationality— run.

So you fled.

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bunnybearmarvel · 1 year

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𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.

WARNINGS: A/B/O Dynamics, Sexual Themes, Polyandry, M/F/M, Angst, Mentions of violence, Alpha x Omega, Ruts and Heats, Threesomes, Oral (F and M recieving), Eventual Soft!dark themes, Manipulation, Breeding Kink, DDLG themes, Graphic depictions of violence, Dark Themes.

PAIRINGS: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Clark x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve x Reader.

CHAPTERS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

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bunnybearmarvel · 1 year

Text

Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

Summary: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Clark x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve x Reader.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Sexual Themes, Polyandry, M/F/M, Angst, Mentions of violence, Alpha x Omega, Ruts and Heats, Threesomes, Oral (F and M recieving), Eventual Soft!dark themes, Manipulation, Breeding Kink, DDLG themes, Graphic depictions of violence, Dark Themes.

A/N; Back with another WIP. Whoopdeedoo✨🫶 this was a lil fun something i wrote to overcome a really bad slump🥹 anyways!! say hi if you're here frens!! UNEDITED READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

“Clark? Honey?” You call out to your husband who, seemed lost to the rest of the world as his eyes sought the words to whatever paperwork he was reading. Noting down the uncanny disarray of his home office, the strange feeling of unrest settled in the pit of your stomach once more.

There were piles of papers scattered aimlessly on his mahoganny desk, his recieving chairs were skewed at an angle you knew he'd find unsettling, and his coat aswell as a few trinkets were laying waste on the carpet altogether.

It was unlike Clark to let himself spiral into a such a state of disorder. If you knew anything, about your endearing husband; he had a severe case of OCD. Everything must have their own place, every nook and cranny accounted for and it reflected on his everyday life. His tailor made suits were always neatly pressed, his tie the perfect knot, his appearance was always put together and smart in fashion. There was nothing that could be flawed about Clark Kent; he was composed, as he was equally accomplished in his everyday life

But for the past few days, perhaps weeks now, you've noticed the nuances and shift in his demeanor. It was present in gaze, the way he spoke to you; as if he was evasive, guilty almost, but you didn't want to venture into that kind of thinking because your heart had hurt too much at the thought of one of your mates betraying you in such manner.

Clark and Steve would never hurt you in any way. The fact in itself was cemented into your very soul, because all throughout your three years of togetherness— two in marriage, they've bonded you to them in any way they could. Through the marks. Through paper. And most importantly; with their love and devotion.

For as long as you could remember, they have tirelessly and endlessly wooed you. There was not a single day that passed that you never felt special, what with their promise to court you and love you forever. And you've never doubted your husband, and you won't start to. Not when they have never given you any reason to.

“Honey?” You knocked on his door in order to get his attention, that seemingly effective, as he raised his head to look towards you.

“Sweetheart?” Clark was startled he failed to hear you or sense your presence, until you were all he could pay attention to. Your scent, the most beautiful fusion of pumpkin and vanilla, calmed his racing thoughts. His eyes raked over your form in a slow descent, admiration clear in his eyes, but his brows furrowed perceptively at your lack of footwear. “The floor is cold, come here.” He beckons with a slight reprimand to his tone.

Slowly, you walked towards him, rubbing your eyes to rid of any residual sleep. Within arms length, he pulled you down to his lap, arms instinctively wrapping around your smaller frame and pulling you to his chest. Nuzzling into his neck, you let out a satisfied chirp as you were flooded with the enticing scent of your alpha.

“I woke up and you were gone,” You murmur against his neck, voice tinged with sadness. Perhaps you had been spoiled with too much affection that you had become increasingly reliant on their presence— Now, due to the nature of their work and constant travelling, both Clark and Steve had made it so, one or the other if not both should always be with you. This notion was followed to a T which satisfied all parties involved, so you were quite sensitive when it wasn't.

“I know, i'm sorry sweetheart.” Clark coaxed you gently, his voice no louder than a whisper that tickled your ears. “I had a few paperworks that i final review before i sign on it,”

“Can i stay with you?” You bit your lower lip anxiously and stared at him through your lashes. “I'll behave. I just really missed you.” your voice was soft and pliant as you pleaded.

Clark felt the lump in his throat again. The feelings he was repressing all coming down in a defeaning crash onto him. He was confronted with the fact of his neglect towards you with the days past. Clark knows that you may be growing suspicious, and for good reason, yet not one he was strong enough to admit yet. He wanted to say it. To blurt it out, but to admit it out loud would shatter all of his formerly built pretense. Instead, he hugged you tighter, hopefully translating all his love and affection towards it.

“I love you so much, tesoro.” He utters with conviction, “More than my own life.” you felt his head dip, and your foreheads touch. You were suddenly awashed with various emotions, and you swallowed down the questions you wanted to ask.

Although the confession was abrupt, it didn't stop you from echoing the sentiment. “I love you more.” you whisper. “more than my own life.” you repeated.

His grip on you tightened, if possible. As if he was holding onto you for dear life, to which you tried to ease him with gentle touches and tender caress all over his body. You pressed butterfly kisses all over the side of his face, whispering words of assurance to your husband.

“Everything will be alright, my love.”

Clark desperately wanted it to be true.

•••

The next morning, you woke up alone. There was no sign of Clark, as you approached the first floor after showering and getting dressed. Only the staff were present bustling around to do their respective duties.

“When did Clark leave?” You asked the housekeeper.

“At around five, ma'am.” She answers, and you thanked her before heading towards the dining.

As you sat, you were immediately served with breakfast, but you lacked the appetite to even pick up your spoon. Just thinking about your husband's strange behavior had your mind in a talispin, listing out possibilities of what you could have done; was it something you had done? were they disappointed with you? what if they had finally had it with your inability to—

“Hey, doll face!” Natasha barged into the room, successfully interrupting your thoughts. “Mind if i have breakfast with you? Bucky's gone and i'm too lazy to cook for myself.” Before you could answer, she plopped down to a seat and was served with cutlery much like you were.

Her morning visits were as frequent as could be which is why the staff were always quick. More often than not, anyways, it was Natasha you had breakfast with, due to her living close by and her husband Bucky being Steve's bestfriend and work associate. Needless to say, Natasha frequented your estate, and you were as closest to a friend as you could be.

“Hey, doll face.” She tilts her head, “Call me a bitch, but i think you look evidently upset over something.”

“I'm fine, nat. And please, lay off with the crude vocabulary at such an early day.” you reply amusedly, trying to play it off.

“It's okay, i'm insured.” She whips out a few dollar bills and left it at the table, the action was almost like a second nature to her seeing as she was a regular patron at the curse jar. “But you, my dear, seem awfully upset over something. What is it? What is a problem, that your overbearing husbands can't fix? You know you just blink wrong and Rogers and Kent would break the bones of some unassuming bastard.” She wiggles her eyebrows inriguingly.

You couldn't help but shake your head, contemplating for a moment wether you should tell another soul; a close one to both you and your husband about what your sneaking suspicion.

What if she thought you were just paranoid? Or laugh in your face? Or instead—

“Hey,” Nat calls out to you softly. “You don't have to tell me, immedieately. Or at all. But i'm here, and available if you feel like sharing.” she assures you, sincerity dripping from her tone while you visibly deflate.

“It's gonna sound stupid.” you sigh. “b-but.. but i think they're hiding something.”

“who?” the confusion was geniune.

“Steve and Clark.” you utter once you find your voice again, reaching for the glass of water once you felt your mouth go dry at finally saying it out loud.

“Why do you think so?” she asks carefully.

“Maybe i'm sensitive..” trailing off you looked down at your lap, “but i, i just feel it, nat. The way they speak to me, neither of them can barely maintain proper eye contact for more than a minute. They're very brief, almost cryptic when they talk. They're always out, and we barely see eachother— it terrifies me.” blinking away the tears, you look up.

“Oh darling,” She hushes, pulling you into a hug while you choked on a sob.

“I'm so scared Nat.” you whimper, tucking your chin into her shoulder. “'m so scared i'm gonna lose my alphas.”

“I know for certain that's never going to happen, dollface.” natasha says earnestly, while you let the tears flow.

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bunnybearmarvel · 1 year

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Cause you're just a man — B. Barnes.

summary: to the world, mrs. barnes had played her cards well and landed herself a doting, rich and handsome husband who was madly inlove with her. behind closed doors, she shoulders the weight of his constant infidelity and questions, why was she not enough?

pairings: bucky x reader

warnings: cheating, angst, language, mentions of smut, bucky being a pathetic excuse of a husband.

“is that a pink diamond?” wanda gasps, eyes intent on the rock that decorates your ring finger, you look away from the pages to your book towards her line of sight; sitting prettily in your dainty hands was the diamond the size of two adult fingers, cut in cushion. “that's what bucky flew in from the carribean, isn't it?” she asks giddily, reaching out a hand to grasp yours in a curious grip.

“i guess it is,” you laugh lightly at her enthusiasm as she tilts, and coos at it.

“it looks so pretty, i'm so freakin' jealous of you.” she huffs.

“it's just a rock, wands. an overly opulent one,” you lightly flick at the back of her hand, “nevertheless, i'm sure vision would be more than happy to acquire a set for you, should you ask.”

“explicitly,” the redhead retreats back into her seat, book long forgotten and your miniature book club meet halted. she did have the tendency to get easily distracted which you found amusing, so you were more or less inclined to indulge her in her musings. “the man has no romantic bone in his body, and he won't surprise me with diamonds and flowers after a business trip. if i have to spell it out for him, that takes away the swooning.”

you giggle, “can't live with em, can't live without them. i'd say just grab his credit card and bolt.”

wanda snorted at that, “fuckin' men, and their inability to understand the art of appeasing their wife.” you fiddle with your tennis bracelet absentmindedly, “how in the world did you train bucky to be such a perfect husband anyway? it seems he knows how and what to do to, should the situation present itself.”

all too well, that is.

you could only muster a nonchalant shrug, “how would i know? he's always been like.. that.”

“no he isn't, y/n. you ask anyone in the upper echelon and a random socialite in the upper manhattan, you'll know he's a fucking asshole who cares only about himself.” she intones, “and by some voodoo or magic dust, he's falling over himself and chasing you around like a random puppy awaiting praise and love. seriously, you made a new man out of james buchanan fucking barnes.”

you shift in your seat uncomfortably, what you didn't have the heart to tell her was that, you really wouldn't know. because all that pretentious douchebag knows is how to cover up his indescretions with grand and meaningless gestures to make up for his lack of regard to his commitment, towards your marriage.

the trips to exotic islands and tropical getaways were merely farce to delude you into a false sense of marital bliss; he would treat you, spoil you with his attention, buy you skimpy bikinis and fuck you into oblivion, but the slimy bastard would fly in a pretty thing on the side and also fuck her silly while you're face first in a massage bed.

the presents of copious amounts were given to you in abundance because he didn't really need the whole two-weeks to close the damn deal abroad, but one of his casual mistresses needed his attention, or she threatens to jump ship after confronting his wife, aka you. and he couldn't have two facets of his life to meet, so he disposed the bitch to the fishes and, oh the poor thing.

he would show you around in parties, hand on the small of your waist as he parades you like a trophy, prideful and smug because in his arm was the most beautiful and brilliant woman in the party, showing you off to business assoiates and the like; speaking verses of his admiration and undying love to you. as if he would not meet eyes with someone new and foreign, a silent agreement of sorts ensuing, before he was excusing himself to screw her against the wall of a dark and isolated room.

“the both of you are the definition of a perfect lovestory; if your life was made a film, i would watch it!” she gushes, still lost and clueless to your reality. like everyone else, she believed the play you and bucky had acted out to perfection.

but if this were a film, this would be those film noir classics; and you would sprinkle poision into his coffee, watch with bated breath as he drinks it and falls to the ground gasping, and choking. you would weep infront of a crowd, his family and friends, who would take pity on the billionaire's widow, who could barely speak nor eat from the grief of losing her beloved husband.

but this was reality, and you were gripping the edge of your seat. you were too soft. too meek. too sweet and compliant, that you would only cry silently and pretend ignorance. must be the reason why bucky had chosen you among the sea of women willing to be his doll. his love. his sweet, sweet girl.

but you were only waiting; for what, you weren't exactly certain. perhaps, to no longer love him? but the thought alone stung more than any of your realities— because at times where he would truly, make the effort to see you, he would see you in your entirety; bucky would fondly copy the scrunch of your nose, cooing in endearment. he would be first to indulge you in your extensive collection of vintage trinkets, often going out of his way to attend auctions in several parts of the country. your ticks, for when you were upset, it would be bucky who acts as if there was a fire lit under his ass, running around to rectify whatever it is. he was first to notice your joy, and celebrate you. he would be first to praise your half done canvas. he would be first to brush your hair out of your face in the morning and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

and in those moments, you wish he was was true. and honest. and faithful. and yours.

because bucky has wormed his way into every crevice of your very heart and soul, and he owns not only your heart, but also your grief, and sadness, and your happiness. but he's just too much of a manchild, too much of a prideful, brooding, egoistic man who was always so torn on being a good man and missing out.

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bunnybearmarvel · 2 years

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Thankyou!!🥰🥰

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Bunny Instincts.

pairings. | steve rogers x hybrid!bunny reader

summary. | It’s an animal instinct to be wary when a predator is near; your little baby bunnies, are well aware when daddy is near.

warnings. | soft!dark steve rogers, hybrid!bunny reader, allusions to kidnapping, manipulation, daddy!kink, language.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Letting out a soft giggle, you watch in amusement as the twins prattle about in the grass field, hopping here and there, attempting to race eachother but getting distracted by butterflies and flowers along their path.

You were lying down on a blanket, basking under the warmth of the morning sun, a book in hand and a basket full of treats for you and your little babies. You enjoyed the breeze, the serenity of these mornings, the quiet and the slow; for you, it was perfect.

Cooing, you reach out a hand to your baby who sneezed, it seemed as if she was allergic to pollen, her pink snout twitches involuntarily. She leans into your touch, and you lift her up to your chest.

“It’s okay, bubba.” You utter, softly stroking her soft fur. Her blue eyes were watery, the cirulean blue akin to her father’s; yet, hers merely blinked up at you with parts reliance and innocence, so different to the shrewd and calculative of his. “We can’t play with those kind of flowers, but there are others; i know, honey. It’s itchy?” You tut, brushing her nose when her whole face twitches.

The twin, who had been curiously hopping after a colorful butterfly suddenly stilled, gazing faraway, to barely registered footsteps, his discerning ears perking up in attention. The ominous presence of something.. strong, had caused him to clamber back to his mother, tail tucked in between his legs.

Your head darts up to the door of the house, and you gazed at your baby who was shivering in freight. Bunnies are easily frightened, and when they’re still small and unable to shift into their human form; their bones brittle, and their autonomy limited until the age of two, they’re extremely delicate and sensitive.

Especially to sound, and their environment; the instinct of an animal, much more, one who have been hunted since eons ago such as bunnies, was heavily engraved into his consciousness.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” you gently coo, bringing him closer to your chest also. Allowing him to hear the thrum of your heartbeat, in hopes it will calm his erratic beating heart. “Mama’s here, i’ll protect you.” You whisper, placing a dainty kiss on each of their forehead. The trembling toned down a little, much to your relief.

“Trying to act tough, bunny?" His baritone voice held a tone of amusement, large frame coming into view, still decked in his navy blue tactical suit. Your breath hitched in your throat once you lay sight on his almost, lazy smile, clearly patronizing you; and your feeble attempt at protection.

He looked rough, yet not in an entirely bad way. Just that Steve left with a thin stubble framing his jaw, and his hair cut cleanly, into his smart and put together fashion; he looked the golden boy, the personification of true and honest american values.

But the month long mission had certainly, changed his appearance— his true disposition, a little more evident by the longer hair and thick beard that framed his face. He looked mean. Yet the mere sight of him had inevitably brought a shiver of want through your body.

“Daddy,” you whisper, stunned, pillowy lips parting in surprise at his arrival. You were expecting him a couple of weeks later, but things must have changed which made him arrive home early.

“No welcome kisses for daddy?” He raises a barely amused brow, expression shifting to stern, and despite yourself; you slowly rose, not before placing your little bunnies in the blanket, and whispering gentle words of comfort into their ears, and crept towards him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

He deepens it, the kiss quickly turning passionate and starved. He conveyed his yearning through the punishing brush of his lips to yours, hands finding purchase on the small of your waist in order to bring you closer. You whimper, and yelp once he squeezed the globes of your ass, yet he only took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into your mouth, sucking and tasting your mouth.

He only lets you go once you were breathless, eyes glossed over to his satisfaction. Steve rubs your lower lip, eyes roaming your face as he takes in your otherwordly beauty, noticing the lightness and glow of your visage. He has always thought you were breathtakingly gorgeous; and coupled with motherhood, your ever blossoming maternal instinct, that chipped at your defiance and made you his soft, pliable little bunny.

Steve knows knocking you up had been his best choice at keeping you; little bunnies like you, helpless and innocent, were made to bend over and take cock like a fucking pro— not wander around, nor integrate into society as something you, very clearly was not made for.

You were made for breeding, is what you were. A fertile little thing. An insatiable, needy little bunny that deserved to be stuffed full of his cum, until you’re swollen with his children. And again. And again, until you’re pathetic and begging with soft and musical cries that only every fueled his desire to fuck you until you’re passed out.

His cock strains painfully in his jeans, gaze flickering to your swollen breast; your pert nipples evident through the filmsy sundress, they were plump and round with milk, and heck, if he wasn’t already rock hard with just the sight of you. He places a lingering kiss on the swell of your breast, and your cheeks heated.

“Stevie,” you whine, placing a hand to his chest. “It tickles.” He chuckles.

“You’re too sensitive bunny,” Steve snorts, but relents. He has plenty of time to bother you later, now, however he glances behind you, and towards the huddled pair of his children. “What are you doing so far away?” His voice was gruff, and you saw the tremble wrack their little bodies.

They had always been afraid of Steve. Shaking whenever he touches them; whimpering whenever he’s near. It’s like your children knows to what extent, Steve’s nature and how truly sinister the huge man was.

“Daddy,” you utter with a silent reprimand, “Please don’t scare them.” You touch his chest.

His brow furrows, “They’re afraid of their own father?” Disappointment colors his tone, he had always been brash and domineering, indeed. But he’s tried several times to connect and bond with his children, but they were ultimately frightened of him for some unknown reason. He calls their names, “Come here.” He orders firmly.

You bite your lower lip, “Daddy.” You warn, eyes wide and pleading. You wish he was more tender, softer with them. They’re feeble, which your husband can’t seem to understand. “Gentler, please. Don’t call them as if you’re about to grab them by the skin of their neck and haul them.”

“Isn’t that what animals do, sweetheart?” He quips back, blue eyes narrowing. “Besides, i ought to teach them a little thing about what happens to children who disobey.”

“They’re still babies; they can’t understand alot.” You appease him softly, looking back at your children with encouraging eyes. “You have to comfort them, coax them. Be a little more patient, please, daddy.” You place a hand on his chest and blinked up at him with doe eyes. One you know he finds hard to resist.

Steve’s jaw clenches, the tough façade crumbling slowly. “They got that from you, little bunny. Always needing persuasion, promises; coaxing.” You hum and nuzzle your face into his chest, awarding the broad expanse of it with butterfly kisses and inhaling his scent. He smelled of rich cedarwood and pine, insanely addictive and for you, comforting.

“Come here,” He orders, a little softly now and you smile at him encouragingly. “Papa’s not mad, i promise. He just wants to kiss his babies.” Steve’s gruff voice utters, and he beckons the twins over with a wave of a hand. Once they were at arms reach, he bends down and lifts them up, pressing a kiss to their head.

“My bestest babies,” you whisper adoringly as you hug them inbetween the two of you. “So brave, and sweet.” You continue to whisper words of encouragement in their ears, the twins responding to you with wriggling movements, and rubbing up at you, while Steve watches with satisfaction and awe.

He truly made the right decision to making sure you’re well and truly his. Only his. Afterall, Steve Rogers does deserve a family of his own; he’s done so much for his country, fought and thrown himself on the line of his work just to make sure that the world remains at peace and he deserves his own piece of happiness.

Even if he had to steal you away. He will break you apart and build you up all over again if it meant he would have you. Steve will tear anyone, limb to limb if they dare to steal you away from him. So what if you had a life ahead of you? Did he not give you, your own piece the world; a nice beautiful house, a white picket fence, a large and expansive garden and every luxury you could ever think of. He satisfies your every need and whim; he fucks you good, he satiates you, he loves you. Steve loves you a fucking lot. Loves you that he will do anything for you— expcept let you go.

“I love you, daddy.” You murmur, reverently. It took alot to mold you into his perfect little wife, but everything was worth it when you look at him and tell him those perfect words.

“I love you, bunny.” He replies, equally reverent.

You’re his. But more evidently, he is yours.

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bunnybearmarvel · 2 years

Text

He's gonna be a rough father that's fs, but that's why bunny is equipped with her pretty eyes and adorable face to combat his domineering attitude😉🥰🥰

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Bunny Instincts.

pairings. | steve rogers x hybrid!bunny reader

summary. | It’s an animal instinct to be wary when a predator is near; your little baby bunnies, are well aware when daddy is near.

warnings. | soft!dark steve rogers, hybrid!bunny reader, allusions to kidnapping, manipulation, daddy!kink, language.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Cooing, you reach out a hand to your baby who sneezed, it seemed as if she was allergic to pollen, her pink snout twitches involuntarily. She leans into your touch, and you lift her up to your chest.

Especially to sound, and their environment; the instinct of an animal, much more, one who have been hunted since eons ago such as bunnies, was heavily engraved into his consciousness.

“Daddy,” you whisper, stunned, pillowy lips parting in surprise at his arrival. You were expecting him a couple of weeks later, but things must have changed which made him arrive home early.

“Stevie,” you whine, placing a hand to his chest. “It tickles.” He chuckles.

“Daddy,” you utter with a silent reprimand, “Please don’t scare them.” You touch his chest.

“Isn’t that what animals do, sweetheart?” He quips back, blue eyes narrowing. “Besides, i ought to teach them a little thing about what happens to children who disobey.”

“I love you, daddy.” You murmur, reverently. It took alot to mold you into his perfect little wife, but everything was worth it when you look at him and tell him those perfect words.

“I love you, bunny.” He replies, equally reverent.

You’re his. But more evidently, he is yours.

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bunnybearmarvel · 2 years

Text

Thankyou for the kind words!!🥰💓 makes me giddy that someone likes the hybrid bunny concept🥺💓

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Bunny Instincts.

pairings. | steve rogers x hybrid!bunny reader

summary. | It’s an animal instinct to be wary when a predator is near; your little baby bunnies, are well aware when daddy is near.

warnings. | soft!dark steve rogers, hybrid!bunny reader, allusions to kidnapping, manipulation, daddy!kink, language.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Cooing, you reach out a hand to your baby who sneezed, it seemed as if she was allergic to pollen, her pink snout twitches involuntarily. She leans into your touch, and you lift her up to your chest.

Especially to sound, and their environment; the instinct of an animal, much more, one who have been hunted since eons ago such as bunnies, was heavily engraved into his consciousness.

“Daddy,” you whisper, stunned, pillowy lips parting in surprise at his arrival. You were expecting him a couple of weeks later, but things must have changed which made him arrive home early.

“Stevie,” you whine, placing a hand to his chest. “It tickles.” He chuckles.

“Daddy,” you utter with a silent reprimand, “Please don’t scare them.” You touch his chest.

“Isn’t that what animals do, sweetheart?” He quips back, blue eyes narrowing. “Besides, i ought to teach them a little thing about what happens to children who disobey.”

“I love you, daddy.” You murmur, reverently. It took alot to mold you into his perfect little wife, but everything was worth it when you look at him and tell him those perfect words.

“I love you, bunny.” He replies, equally reverent.

You’re his. But more evidently, he is yours.

1K notes · View notes

bunnybearmarvel · 2 years

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Bunny Instincts.

pairings. | steve rogers x hybrid!bunny reader

summary. | It’s an animal instinct to be wary when a predator is near; your little baby bunnies, are well aware when daddy is near.

warnings. | soft!dark steve rogers, hybrid!bunny reader, allusions to kidnapping, manipulation, daddy!kink, language.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Cooing, you reach out a hand to your baby who sneezed, it seemed as if she was allergic to pollen, her pink snout twitches involuntarily. She leans into your touch, and you lift her up to your chest.

Especially to sound, and their environment; the instinct of an animal, much more, one who have been hunted since eons ago such as bunnies, was heavily engraved into his consciousness.

“Daddy,” you whisper, stunned, pillowy lips parting in surprise at his arrival. You were expecting him a couple of weeks later, but things must have changed which made him arrive home early.

“Stevie,” you whine, placing a hand to his chest. “It tickles.” He chuckles.

“Daddy,” you utter with a silent reprimand, “Please don’t scare them.” You touch his chest.

“Isn’t that what animals do, sweetheart?” He quips back, blue eyes narrowing. “Besides, i ought to teach them a little thing about what happens to children who disobey.”

“I love you, daddy.” You murmur, reverently. It took alot to mold you into his perfect little wife, but everything was worth it when you look at him and tell him those perfect words.

“I love you, bunny.” He replies, equally reverent.

You’re his. But more evidently, he is yours.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve #steve rogers #captain america x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #captain america x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you

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