#drug lord!steve rogers
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Your Mark On Me, Part 3
Summary: you keep pushing his buttons...
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, degradation, dirty talk, non con/dub con, spanking, inspecting, spitting, fingering, squirting, oral sex (F receiving), skinny dipping, pussy job, just the tip, a bit of cream pie, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 7.1K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*Tattooed Steve edit by @randomagnes0210
*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics
You take a long look out the window, your eyes casting around in every direction until you see him. Bucky gives you a cheeky grin, holding up his hand, and you back away from the window, hiding yourself. Annoyed at not even being able to walk around in your panties in your apartment if you wanted to. He was always going to tell Steve. You couldn’t escape him. And staying cooped up in your apartment was thoroughly starting to piss you off.
It was supposed to be your break in between semesters, and you should be having fun. But no. Instead your every move is followed. You have a feeling Bucky even writes down what you do with time stamps just to let Steve know. He was there when you wake up, there when you leave your apartment, and even there when you go to sleep.
Did he sleep? Was he going to go crazy with a lack of sleep? You pace around the apartment, tempted to open your curtain, and put on a show for Bucky, just to piss Steve off. It’s what he deserved after he did what he did.
When he did what he did…
You hadn’t stopped thinking about that night. The moment when you had forgotten about everything around you, and just let him take you to a different world. A world of blinding pleasure. You had forgotten your name. There has been a numbness in you since that night. And you wanted him to help you live again, and also feared the things he was making you feel.
You ignored the frequent text messages from Steve. At night the messages got filthier, and you wanted to scream in your pillow. While his face was buried between your thighs, and he was doing whatever he did with his tongue, and even his teeth.
“No!” You scream out loud as your hands start to shake. What was wrong with you? Why was you letting this man lead you to temptation and right to a shortcut to hell?
You wanted him. You feared him. You hated him. You need him to…to do something. You didn’t want to say it, and couldn’t say it. This was new. All of it was new, and you didn’t understand Steve’s strong obsession with you. You! You? What was so special about you? Why did he want you? What was his end goal? Was it only to fuck you and then leave?
Taking another look out the window just to find Bucky in the same spot, sucking on a cigarette. He would know, Bucky knew everything. Putting on some coffee you leave your apartment, and walk out to Bucky, who stands up straight immediately. Hand at the phone in his pocket while he looks at you questioningly.
“Don’t call him,” Bucky struggles with your request. You were not where you were supposed to be. You hadn’t even left this town, and ventured back home. “Have some coffee with me. I feel bad that you’re out here all alone, all day and all night. It isn’t fair.”
“I have my orders,” his hand still taps along his pocket, and the last thing you want is for him to call Steve. You couldn’t handle Steve being in your home, and your place of peace.
“Some coffee would be good for you, come on,” you go to reach for his hand, but he stands up completely straight, and his eyes fix behind you. “I’m sorry.”
“Dove, you should know by now not to touch me; ever. Especially without him present. I’m running out of lives, and I don’t want to die today,” you give a little bite to your lip, your feet shuffling around nervously, wondering if you had pushed too far. You weren’t an idiot, even if you wanted to play as such.
Bucky wants to roll his eyes at just how perfect you are for Steve. How you had enough fight in you to keep things interesting, but also his undying love for innocence. For the chase, and you were running; sprinting away from him even if your body was yelling for him to come back. You just weren't so fast enough that Steve couldn’t catch you. “Fine. Coffee, but you deal with the consequences.”
“Consequences? For having coffee?” Oh you did love to play this silly little girl game. Judging by the swishing around of your thighs, you knew exactly what the consequences would be.
He leans close enough into you, whispering just slightly off from your ear, “Don’t play dumb, little bird,” before heading straight towards your building. “So?” He pauses, turning to look at you when you don’t move. “Are we having coffee?”
“Yes,” you answer with such certainty that it scares you.
“I see why he likes her,” Bucky mumbles, waiting for you to take the lead. He didn’t have to contact Steve. Steve would look down at his phone, and see that Bucky was in your apartment. Would see Bucky in your space, but with you. Alone. He could already feel Steve’s anger prickling on his skin once he realized where he was, and just who he was with. You were just dangerous enough to yourself, but also for Steve.
“So…what’s yours and Steve’s story?” You pour him his coffee, sitting at the bar, and push out a chair for him. He doesn’t take the chair, but instead lifts himself up on the counter. “You and him seem to go back further than him and Sam.”
“Steve trusts very few people. Sam and I are two of them. But you are correct in thinking that Steve and I have known each other longer. Sam has been more than loyal to the both of us,” your head tilts to the side, listening to Bucky. It was almost normal. Steve was anything but safe though. However, he had people that believed in something. Believed in him and whatever empire he was building.
“Why drugs?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he gives you a wink. Lifting his arm up to look at his watch with a smirk. “Why were you buying?”
“You know why. I needed to stay up to cram for finals. Math isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he cocks a brow up, while he drinks his coffee, and you almost feel guilty for staring at him. It was silly because you weren’t with Steve. You could look at whoever you pleased.
“Have you ever tried any other drugs?” Shaking your head rapidly, you cast your eyes to anything in the kitchen. Making silly notes about what you needed to do to keep it clean. Wondering where the cameras were in here. “Was that your first time?”
“Yes. I’ve always just taken my medication as it’s prescribed.”
“Ever been drunk?” You had piqued his interest. Bucky was just wasting time because Steve was already enroute, and he was about to be yelled at, but you were getting far more than screams. “Hmm?”
“No,” your voice whispers, and you dare to look back up at him. “I just recently became of age.”
“Wait…you’ve never had anything to drink?” You shake your head no. There couldn't’ be that much that you had missed from getting drunk. Alcohol stunk, and it was illegal for you to have consumed before now. “Wow, you really are…”
You jump off the stool, your mug shattering on the tile as Steve bursts through the door. His nostrils flaring, and his skin looked like it was on fire with the way his muscles are tensing up. Backing up from him with every step he takes closer to you.
Taking his eyes off you only to glare at Bucky, “I’ll deal with you later. Dovey,” he tsks, turning to look at you. He is too calm with his words, but the way he slung that door open, he was anything but calm. He was pissed off at you.
“You’ve been a bad bad girl,” you can only squeak, as you look around the apartment. “We both know there's no hiding places in here. I’ve looked at the blueprints, little bird. Where are you gonna run to?”
“Steve, don’t,” you gulp, flinching away as he tries to grab you.
“Do you remember what I told you about your tears?” You shake your head no. You couldn’t think. There is a searing light in your eyes and loud ringing in your ears that was keeping you from thinking straight. He had mentioned something about tears, but exactly what you can’t recall.
“When you cry all I can think about is splitting you open for the first time. It will hurt, Dovey. You will cry, and I will lick the tears off your cheeks, as I wait for that tight little cunt to stop screaming from the stretch.’
“Steve, please,” you tremble, but he moans in return. He mistook your pleads as begging. “I’m not begging!”
“And I’m not asking,” you scream as you dart past him, but his inky hand grabs onto your wrist, pulling you into his hard chest, and nearly knocking the breath out of you. Covering your wails with his hand as he hauls you over to the couch.
Letting himself sit down before he lays your belly over his lap. “I am thankful that you wear skirts,” hearing the malice in his voice only makes your entire body shiver with anticipation of what is coming next. “Bucky, close the door, while I have a chat with my little bird.”
“Steve, I’m sorry,” you hiccup. Wiggling around, you try to get off his lap, but it wasn’t helping. “I don’t know what I did…Bucky?”
“Don’t call for him. He protects you when I’m not around, he doesn’t protect you from me. Did he or did he not say you would have consequences for being alone with him?” You whimper as you nod your head, and you get a swift smack on your ass. “Words, Dove.”
“Yes, sir,” tears start flowing down your face, and it just angers you. This stupid man that rushed into your life has you draped over his lap like a toddler, and was intent in spanking you.
“And not only did you bring him in here with you alone, you then had the audacity to talk about me, hmm?” You don’t answer fast enough, and he smacks you again, but this time on the other cheek. Flattening his hand out, he rubs over the stinging skin.
“I didn’t…I-I-I didn’t know.”
“If you want to know anything about me, then you better fucking ask me. That sneaky bullshit will not fly with me. Do you understand?” Another smack on your ass with an even more soothing rub this time. “Can you fucking hear?” One more slap.
“Yes, sir. I under…understand. No!” He places his elbow on your back as he lifts up your skirt. Chuckling when each hand pulls apart your cheeks. “Steve, stop! Don’t look! Don’t!”
“Why not, Dovey?” He moans, leaning down closer he inhales deeply. What you assume was a pinky finger flicks up and down your cotton covered slit. “Your cunt is crying for me. Just as hard as those pathetic tears rolling down your cheeks. You know why we work, Dovey? I enjoy this just as much as you do.”
“I don’t,” he has your panties pulled down in one second. Each hand stretching your cheeks wide as he gazes at your virgin hole. Everything is too quiet as he stares at you in the most vulnerable state you have ever been in. Sure that Bucky was watching your core as hard as Steve.
Seconds go by that feels like hours. And then a drip of Steve’s saliva flows through your lips. “You’re a fucking liar,” his voice cutting deep inside of you. “Why are you lying? That tight light hole is clenching, Dove. She wants a big cock to fuck her so hard and deep, huh? Hehe,” he looks up at Bucky, pulling you even further apart.
“See, Buck. She’s throbbing just thinking about me fucking her. Look,” Bucky has been a target of Steve’s anger many times. And there was no right answer here. Steve would be offended if he didn’t look. “Dove, I’m going to fuck you so deep you feel me in your belly.”
“Oh,” Bucky tries to sound interested as your walls flutter around nothing. Searching for something to squeeze tightly. Pulsing in vain. But something more catches his eyes, “How are you going to fit in there?”
“Oh, I’ll make it fit,” he spits down to your center again as two fingers roam through your slick. Coating themselves in your juices, and you clench your eyes close. Biting on your lip as he plunges two thick fingers into your warmth, and you lift your head up sobbing his name.
“That’s just two fingers, pretty girl,” pumping his fingers in and out of you he moans at the sound of your wetness. Lewd squelching sounds scream into the quiet apartment. “See how easy I fit in there when you have a sloppy cunt like this? It’s because I am made for you, and this is my pussy. I wish you could see your pussy cling onto my fingers. She doesn't’ want to let me go. She is weeping out onto your legs just thinking about me, Dovey.”
He speeds up his motions, curling his fingers and he hits a spot inside of you that makes orbs of fuzzy light pop up in your vision. Sounds you have never heard before leak out of your mouth, and your body chases his fingers. Reacting and needing him to stay deep inside of you. And you seek out him to constantly fill you whole.
Hugging his digits so tightly that you can’t help but to pant out his name, “I know, baby. It’s what you’ve needed. You needed to be punished for acting like a sneaky bitch. But it gets you so worked up. Your body craves this attention. Has been begging for this, huh? You like this, Dovey?”
My god, you loved it. Thoughts just didn’t even register because of the paralyzing pleasure. You just take it. Take every bit of his fingers. Eyes rolling in the back of your head as he scissors himself deep inside of you. Pressing a thumb on your clit, and you speak in tongue.
Euphoria you have never felt. Your cum coats his fingers, but it only eggs him on. Going harder into you. The only thing for you to hold is his leg, and you dig your fingers into him. He hisses as he pounds into you. Not stopping until you're screaming his name, and you squirt out your release. And Steve moans, delighted at how messy you are.
“Good fucking girl!” Jerking his fingers out, he grabs you at the hips. Lifting your bottom up to him, and he buries himself between your thighs. Laving and slurping up every bit of your release. Moaning at your tastes as he sucks every bit of it up.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, but as soon as it starts, he stops. Steve pulls apart your body, and stares at the tiny gape of your hole. You could take so much more, and he was tempted to add a third finger next time. But he wanted more than anything for you to cry when he bottoms out into you. Addicted to something he hadn’t properly got to experience. And that was all of you.
His sight never leaves your cunt as he tells Bucky to pack you a bag because the two of you were going on a short little trip. Bucky nods, knowing exactly where Steve was going to take you. He whispers a prayer for you. If Steve had it his way he was going to fuck this ‘brat’ right out of you.
Bucky wouldn’t call you a brat, but you knew what you were doing. Driving Steve crazy enough to both pleasure and humiliate you. One day you would learn, you didn’t have to push his buttons to get him to play with you. You had this power over Steve that neither of you understood. And Bucky had never witnessed anything quite like this.
“Dovey, if I hear you talk back to me once on this drive, you’re going to ride the rest of the way with two of my fingers in your cunt, and both your titties hanging out of your shirt. Please tell me that you understand.”
His hold loosens on you, and he gives you a moment to sit up. Waiting on you to roll your drenched panties back up your body, and you nod. You couldn’t look at him because he had seen such a private part of you, and showed Bucky, “Yes, sir.”
“Good, girl. You’re learning. Seems like you’re starting to break. Buck, you make sure Sam understands that the two of you are in charge,” Steve holds out his hand as he stands up. Waiting on you to take hold before he leads the two of you to the door.
“Steve, take it easy on her. She’s not ready,” he whispers to his friend, but Steve returns his warning with a smile. He was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted with you. You wanted to know about him, so he was going to give you the opportunity to ask. If you could focus. He’d tell you everything you need to know. He just hopes it’s the right questions.
“Steve, I don’t want to be here,” your lip trembles as he steps out of the car. Stalking over to your side while you stare at only one thing. One cabin. In the middle of fucking nowhere. It had been miles since you even saw the las
“Steve, no!” Screaming as he opens your door. There isn’t any flight left in you. It is just complete shutting down. He holds out his hand for you to take, but you violently shake. He was going to murder you here. “Steve, don’t. Don’t!”
He gives a growl as his hands try to wrangle you out of the vehicle, and you thrash around. If you were going to die, at least you’d die trying. “Please, just…”
“You wanted to ask questions, now get out of the fucking car!” Pulling you a bit harder, you let your body turn to dead weight, and you drop to the ground with a hard thud. Blinking your eyes and coughing as you try to catch your breath.
“Would you shut up?” His voice rattles, hauling you up over his shoulder. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do to you? We’re going in the fucking cabin, and you’re going to ask your stupid damn questions.”
“B-b-b-but we’re alone! You’re going to…” dropping you onto the couch, his body hovers over you. Those blackened with ink arms caging you. He rolls his hips, and his hardening cock skims over your core, and you squeal.
“You like that, huh? You like feeling me on you?” His breath is hot on your skin as he does it again. “We’re all alone, Dovey, and no one can hear your screams when you take every inch of me.”
“I’m not b-b-begging.”
“Aw, but aren’t you?” Readjusting himself, his hand cups your covered core. The face of pure sadistic torture grins down at you. “You’re so hot and wound up you’re going to burn the cabin down, Dovey. You’ve ruined these panties, you're so wet. Quit letting your mind take control, and trust me.”
“I’ll never trust you,” it is something you felt deep within your soul. How could you trust someone that was like him? Someone that got off on your embarrassment, and enjoyed showing it to everyone. “You just want to use me.”
A flash of tattoos comes at your face, and his fingers dig into your cheeks as he grabs you tight. Forcing you to quit looking around, and look straight at him. “Dovey, if I wanted to use you, I would have had you that first night. I did you a kindness in marking you up. People know not to fuck with Steve Rogers. You’re just the stupid girl who came into my lair thinking you would outsmart me. Do you realize how many times I could have fucked you by now? I could have put the cameras on us, and let the club watch as I took the gift that could never be returned. And you’re the brat that wants to keep pushing my fucking buttons.”
You whimper as his weight starts to settle on your body. His monstrosity of a cock pressing into your center, and a flash of blinding light covers your vision, and all you can do is feel. Feel his pulse through his cock as it pounds right at your entrance, and the way his breath blows out over your face as he chuckles. You hate him.
“Sweetheart, it would loosen you up in more ways than one. You need this as much as I do. You’re denying us the ultimate pleasure when all you have to do is let me squeeze through your walls, break them down, too.”
Gulping, you keep perfect eye contact as your head twists back and forth, whispering out, “No.”
A rumble climbs up his chest, and the vibrations go right to your weeping cunt as he sits up. Putting his weight on his heels, and kneeling before you. His body keeps your legs wide, and he pulls up your skirt, watching your covered pussy as he pulls his shirt off.
He is a god amongst men. Rippling cords of muscle stretch over his chest, and it was accentuated perfectly with the most beautiful and intricate designs. The man clearly enjoyed art, but also pain. No inch of his chest wasn’t touched with a needle.
While you’re in a trance with his tattoos, Steve undoes his pants, and gives them a little tug down. “Oh my god!” You screech as his monster dick flops out of his pants. The only thing not covered in tattoos, and right at the tip. “You’re pierced?”
“If it scares you that much, our first time, I’ll take it out. It’s quite pleasurable for you,” Steve wraps his fist around the base, and gives the growing member a few pumps, “You can’t take your eyes off it. Have you ever seen a dick before?”
“Yeah. Plenty of times.”
“Tell me whose dick you’ve seen, little bird.”
“Why?” You look up at him, unblinking. There is a fire that is burning all the way from the pit of his stomach to his eyes. Looking almost demonic as his pupils spread out so wide.
“So I can kill them. No dick that has touched your body is going to stay alive,” he tilts his head to the side, smiling when you finally look up at his face. “I am very serious, sweetheart. Tell me. Their names.”
“I don’t know — I don't know their names,” he tenses in front of you, and you cover your eyes. “They were on the internet,” the walls of the cabin rattle with his booming laughter. While you’re trying to melt away, he runs the tip of his length over your panties, and you flinch. Trying to sit yourself up, but he pushes you back down.
“You mean to tell me I wasted showing you my cock, and it’s the first in life one you’ve ever seen? Dove, no wonder you’re on edge. You just about came undone from my tip at your panties, or maybe it was the piercing. You like the way this feels, my sweet little angel. Come on,” standing up, he fully gets undressed, proving that yes, he was pretty much covered in tattoos. His face and his dick are the exception. “They’re too pretty, darling. Let’s go.”
“Where?” It’s a struggle to sit up with the high emotions you have been feeling. Wobbly legs keep you from standing too quickly. There’s a dizziness that you feel in every part of your body.
“Bucky packed you a bathing suit, put it on, or join me in the hot tub naked. You need to relax,” there was a shift in his voice. Typically there is some grit to it. As if it was constantly filled with anger. Now it sounds — normal. He stands watching you as you try to process what it is you wanted to do. “Do I need to turn around for you to change? I wouldn’t advise running. There’s nobody here for miles. And if you run again, my patience and kindness will be gone, and I can’t promise what I will do.”
“Can I go get my bag?” He nods his head, gesturing for you to go out to the car, and you take careful steps. Counting each inhale and exhale as you walk to the car. Looking back at Steve who remains calm. He dares you to run just so he can capture you in his snares, but you won’t.
This time, you want to listen. Especially if he was going to grant you with asking questions. Bucky sucked at packing your bag. A shirt, panties, and the skimpiest bathing suit you owned. At least he remembered a toothbrush. Feeling a bit more irritated now, you walk back into the cabin, and gawk at Steve.
“Can you turn around?”
“Good girls say please.”
“And I didn’t,” giving you a crooked smile, he turns around. Giving you the smallest privacy to undress.
“I bet it feels nice to get out of those wet panties,” you ignore him. It did feel nice. Everything had started to stick to you, and it was like peeling wet clothes off. “That skin would look really pretty with a needle in it.”
“Why are you like this?” Looking up, you notice a mirror pointed right at you. Steve saw everything. Saw you undress, and didn’t look away.
“Tell me I didn’t make you so wet that you had to use your clothes to wipe your honey off your legs. We’re getting in a hot tub, Dove, it’ll wash right off.”
“Do you ever give privacy?”
“No. But you do have some nice tits. Let’s go,” Steve reaches back to give you a little tug, but you shake your head no, pointing at his dick. “Oh, I don’t get in the hot tub with clothes on. The anaconda will be underwater, you won’t be able to see him.”
“Clarence,” he scrunches his face up as you walk past him, and out on the back porch, assuming that’s where this hot tub was. You just need to not have that thing staring at you right now. “That’s what I’m going to call your penis; Clarence.”
“Clarence? Why not something like The Hammer or…”
“Clarence,” it’s what it was going to be. If he wanted you to look at it, you were going to give it a name that wasn’t so imposing. Steve walks past you, and settles himself into the pool. Giving a soft moan at how the heat was working out his own tension.
“Is it hot?”
“It is, but it’s not as hot as your tight little cunt. How’s she feeling?” Don’t answer him. Allow him his cocky little comments, and do what is asked. Make this easy and unpainful, and you’d feel better for it.
You wait on Steve to settle back into the water, and his eyes roam over your body hungrily. Watching as each inch of it gets swallowed by the heat, and he chuckles when you sit on the opposite side of him. Looking at anything that wasn’t Steve. He cracks his neck, and uses his thick fingers to trace around his lip, and he just smirks at you.
“I don’t like people who go behind my back.”
“I didn’t,” you finally meet his gaze, and it’s hard to look away. He is even sexier with water lapping up against his skin. The same skin that was setting your body ablaze. He had seared into every part of you, and your body craved him. Needed him to touch you.
“Didn’t Bucky tell you that there would be consequences?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’m talking,” he interrupts, wading over closer to you. Both hands plant themselves on either side of you, and he stands up out of the water. His giant cock wet and bouncing right at your face. “You continue to talk over me, and I’ll slip something in your mouth to keep you quiet. Bucky warned you about the consequences of taking him into your apartment without me. You disobeyed. You chose to ignore him. Playing your stupid fucking childish game of being too naive to realize what you acting up does to me.”
He removes one hand from the back of the hot tub, and grips his cock. Rocking it right at your lips, but never touching you. “I can see it in your eyes how curious you are to know what a real cock feels like. I can show you.”
“I’m not begging,” you cross your legs, clenching them tight together. Refusing to let your pussy get you in any more trouble.
“Yet. Your body is, but your mouth is stubborn. Maybe I should give her a little taste. Come on, suck my dick and join me in the underworld.”
“Continue your threats.”
You whimper when his low growling laugh vibrates at your core. Wondering how he was able to make you feel him in a place he had hardly touched. “What do you want to know about me? I’ll give you five questions to ask, so you better make them count. That is going behind my back, little bird. You want to act all innocent, but you want to know what makes me tick. Why did I become who I am? So ask.”
“Why? Why do you do this?”
“I’m going to count that as two. Be careful next time,” sitting beside you, his hand runs up and down your thigh, and without realizing it, your legs start pulling apart. Giving him ample space to get to your cunt.
“I do this because I can control what’s out there. These streets ran rampant with cheap drugs cut with who the fuck knows. I sell pure. It costs more, but you won’t die from a damn accidental overdose because your drug of choice was laced with something. Three more.”
Your mouth drops open when his hand settles as high up on your thigh as possible sliding down, and rubs over the apex of your thigh, but never where your body truly wants it. You even lean back further, granting him more access, but his fingers don’t drift around. “How…why the playground?”
“You really fucking suck at this. There’s two more. You’re down to one question after this.”
“You’re fucking distracting me!” He grabs you up, placing you in his lap. Your body facing the same way as you. Using his legs to lock your own in place. Moving your bottoms to the side before pressing his dick right in between your pussy lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
“You want to say fuck, you better make sure my dick is so deep inside you that you feel me in your filthy little mouth. I will not give you another chance, Dove. I mean it. I won’t wait for you to be blubbering, and crawling on your knees as you beg for me to be inside. I will take it. Is this your tactic, Dove? I don’t want to take. I want you to fully give that to me. You are so hot and slippery, you’re ready, but are you ready for me to have you down on your knees?”
“Please…” what were you asking him for? Why was he able to make you melt and repulse you simultaneously?
“Please just put it in there?” You shake your head no, and his mouth attacks your neck. Kissing and sucking at the sensitive column, while your hips buck up and down. Allowing his sinful dick to roam through your folds. His tip knocks against your clit, and you lean your head back against Steve.
“Easy, baby. You’re going to make yourself pass out before we get to the good part. That’s my playground. I have fond memories of bullies throwing me around the yard. If it wasn’t for Bucky, I would have died there. I promised myself that not only would I survive, but I was going to be bigger and meaner than any of those pieces of shit, and they would all cower just hearing my name.”
“Steve. Steve!” He is only holding his dick up against your body, it is you that is moving, grinding on him and searching for more, and terrified to have it. But he feels like heaven. He hadn’t even entered inside of you, and you are a mess.
“One more question, Dove. Be a good girl, and ask your pathetic little question since you need to know about the big bad drug lord that is following you around, and becoming more and more obsessed with you. Go on.”
“Why me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He is marking every inch of your neck with his filthy mouth. Yet again making sure that everyone knew that you were taken. And he would kill someone that would just look at you. Willing to murder anyone who’s cock you had seen. Even online porn couldn’t prepare you for this.
“I love challenges. I have this pretty little bird that is dying to be fucked deep and hard, but because of her upbringing or some shit, is denying herself pleasure. You need someone like me,” his voice starts going up an octave, and you grind on him faster. Harder. Both of you are needy and searching for something.
“That’s it, Dovey. I’m…I’m,” he holds your lips apart with two fingers, and presses his spongy tip in your entrance, and as soon as you are screaming at the intrusion, his cum spurts through you. Most of it spilling out, and mixing with the water, but some of it is a glorious warmth that you loathe.
He holds you in place, keeping you from squirming around as he looks down into the water, “I could do it you know. You’re breathing heavily, and this isn’t even the painful part. I’m getting tired of you acting like a little bitch. Do you see how easily I can take, Dove? Do you see that I have you right where I want you, but I’m giving you enough grace and power to tell me when our first time is?”
“But…you’re inside me…Steve, I wasn’t begging.”
“And I’m not fucking. I’m not even an inch inside. Enjoy my seed in you, Dove. Pretty soon it’ll be second nature to take my cock, and be filled with me. You wanted the consequences, this is it. But next time, it’ll be so much worse.”
“Just fuck me then,” you spit out, but he lifts you off him, and stands up. This time rubbing his tip over your pouty lips. You notice the bit of change in him, but keep your mouth shut. Letting him paint you with the remnants of the two of you.
“I’m no longer hard, and you’re not begging. But soon, Dove, soon you’ll wake up to me thrusting into you. You’ll sit on my lap, warming my cock while I distribute the drugs. You will be on all fours at the table, letting me inspect that greedy cunt before I plunge into her, and Bucky gets to see me fill your belly with my child. Get out of this tub, and let's go to bed.”
“Why are you so mean?”
“Why are you?” The audacity! You aren’t mean. “You’re mean to yourself, and I never said I was nice. Get out of this fucking tub, and let’s get in the bed.”
He doesn’t even turn around to look at you as he walks back into the cabin. There was no escape, and you are coming to realize that everyday that you are with him. Were you the problem here? Would it be so bad to let him inside of you?
Questions abound quickly in your mind, and you couldn’t process them long enough to answer. Allowing your body to go on autopilot just for tonight. Even if you are angry at what he just did. But are you? Are you really denying something that was living in between heaven and hell?
“Get in the bed,” Steve growls, pulling back the covers. “I have on underwear,” you gulp as you look around the room. Bucky hadn’t given you much thought to pack your clothes. Barely anything was in your bag.
“Here,” Steve says, tossing you a shirt. And you’re just stubborn enough, and still pissed at him from earlier. Undoing your bathing suit top you let it fall to the floor. Letting Steve angrily stare at your curves, and peaked nipples before letting the bottoms fall.
“You’re pushing me, Dovey,” he growls out. Stunned, and refusing to move. Your skin still damp from the tub. Water drips creating a trail right between your legs. “Dove!”
“Now, you know how it feels,” you’re sure you will pay for that later, but at this moment, it feels like you are taking the power back. You’re choosing to show him your body. Letitng him see how hard your nipples are with desire.
Pulling only his shirt on, you crawl onto the bed, tapping the other side, “Aren’t you going to get in?”
“You didn’t put panties on.”
“But you have on underwear. Seems a fair trade,” he grouses something under his breath, but crawls in behind you, pulling you completely flush with his body. Easing a thigh in between your leg, and pressing it firmly against your core. “Steve?”
“It’s my turn to ask questions,” he ignores your hands that try to push his hard leg away from you. Tense in his embrace, but he starts melting into you. Snuggling his face right behind your ear, and you hate the hold he has over you. “Why are you a virgin?”
“Because I haven’t had sex.”
He growls right up next to your ear, and you bite your lip. Hoping that he couldn’t feel how amazing that sound felt. “Why haven’t you had sex?”
The real question. You didn’t have a smart remark to get you out of it. He wanted the truth, and you weren’t ready to give it to him. “Because…”
“Because why?”
“That’s three questions, Steve.”
“I don’t care about the others. Just answer that one,” you wiggle around, wanting to actually give him the attention he wanted, but his hold is too great. “What are you doing?”
“I want to look at you while I answer,” immediately he lets you go. Waiting on you to flop to the other side, but he still pulls you in tight to him. Lifting your leg to throw over his hip. “I’ve never had this.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re a virgin. I’m sure if you laid like this with a — boyfriend,” the taste of that word is rotten in his mouth. No one deserved you. He didn’t deserve you, he was just desperate enough to capture you and make you his.
“No…not even that,” he cocks up an eyebrow as his features soften. He was beautiful. You had a crazy feeling no one ever saw this soft side of him. He had spent years creating his drug lord persona, that he forgot what being a lowly human was like.
“Boys aren’t interested in me. All my friends had them, and I…I was the third wheel. Or the fifth. But you get the point. No one has ever told me that I was — that I’m beautiful.”
He lets out an exasperated breath, and drifts closer to you. So close his lips brush against yours when he whispers your name, “You’re beautiful. And I’m no boy. I am a man, and you are mine. You don’t have to worry about all the boys that didn’t see you. The boys that didn’t realize what diamond that they had in front of them. And I won't have to worry about murdering them.”
“I’m thankful for that.”
“Look at me, and tell me that you’re beautiful,” it’s a strange request to make, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. You were taught not to lie, and you didn’t fully believe it yourself. You had spent most of your life invisible, and no one ever noticed you, until this man came out of the shadows, and was trying to bring you into his own world of darkness.
“Say it. Tell me that you’re beautiful. Dovey, please,” you can’t. You shake your head no, letting your eyes start to close as you try and fight away the tears. He wasn’t going to see you cry. “You’re beautiful. And if I have to be the one to tell you that everyday for you to realize that you are, I will. Maybe that’s my purpose. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. And sexy. And kind. And I want to corrupt you and bring you over into my darkness. Make you my whore, so you realize how irresistible that I find you.”
“Stop. Please, don’t…” he hears the crack in your voice. He would kill everyone that dared to make you feel unworthy. You were worthy. You were everything.
“You’re beautiful, darling. I have perfect vision, and I have seen a lot of women. None are as spectacular as you. Close your eyes, relax in my embrace because I’m never letting you go ever again. You’re stuck with me. I don’t want you to lose your fight, but just for tonight. Let’s call a truce.”
“Fine,” you mumble, finally letting his warmth envelop you as you relax in his embrace. It is an oddly satisfying and safe feeling. You were close enough to smell his musky cologne that lingered on his skin. His heartbeat creating a perfect rhythm to lull you to sleep, “Just for tonight.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Next time I’ll make sure we fall asleep with your cunt squeezing my cock,” insufferable asshole. You started to feel something. Not your body, but you. And then he opened his mouth. But at least it meant you weren’t falling. And you wouldn’t. Not with him.
Next
Masterlist
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#your mark on me#steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#drug lord!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x you#Steve rogers smut#Steve rogers fan fiction#Steve Rogers fanfic#Steve Rogers fic#Steve Rogers fics#chris evans#chris evans characters#marvel#MCU#Bucky Barnes#brat taming#D/s dynamics
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Criminal Behavior (1)
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Masterlist
WC: 1.6k
Pairing: Druglords! Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes X Detective Original Female Character-
Summary: Rose Phillips, one of the best vice detectives in the game, was given a mission to catch the biggest drug lord in all of New York. James Buchanan Barnes. Framing as a lady of the night at a hidden gentlemen’s club, her mission being to do anything it takes to lure her target into her trap. Even if it means going through one of his accomplices to get there. Will the notorious criminals fall for her trap or will Rose fall for their criminal behavior?
Warnings: Lots of swearing, violence, and mild sexual content.
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Note: Figured I might as post my stories on here cause why not? This is my first full story in a long time so please take it easy on me!
Hope you enjoy the chapter! ♡
Songs for chapter:
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Rose Phillips was an ambitious woman with little that satisfied her hunger for success. It’s how she became the top vice detective in all of Brooklyn, busting more drug rings and corrupt businesses than she could count on both hands. No case thrown her way could stop her from completing it to the end. It was both a blessing and a flaw, not only for herself but for any partner that attempted at working with her. She preferred working alone, less frustration on both people and more satisfaction when she solved the case single handedly.
Today was any other work day. 6am wake up. Get properly dressed, to be dressed appropriately equals professionalism, especially being a woman in the police force in the 1950’s. Can’t give them another reason to doubt her skills or what's the point? Next, is a slice of toast, coated in butter and a thin layer of jelly. Brush teeth for 10 minutes before heading off with the taste of toothpaste lingering between her teeth as the air passed through her mouth to her lungs.
Painfully fresh.
The walk to work was mere blocks, a brilliant fortune when it came to bus expenses let alone owning a car, but in winter it was the devil’s curse. Snow and heels never mixed but again, appearance was too important to dismiss for frostbitten limbs.
The station was nothing special, a quant brick building tucked away in the corner of the skyscrapers and upcoming business buildings, strictly meant for the vice department as there were numerous stations all over New York. It wasn’t unknown but wasn’t booming with cases like the homicide department had been over the course of the last three months, bodies piling mysteriously, beaten to a pulp with an unidentifiable weapon. Sometimes she missed that kind of thrill, catching serial killers was always something that was frightful and irritating but so rewarding when the jury spoke the verdict.
‘Guilty’
It was always a good week after an ending like that.
7am sharp, the glass doors were pushed open by freshly clipped and filed nails, not a speck of dirt daring to tread in the shining nail beds. There was a main desk in the center of the entrance, three rows neatly lined behind it. A staircase led up to the Chief’s office at the back of the rows, another led to the basement where the coroner stayed with the freezers of bodies, waiting to discuss their unspoken secrets with a bone chilling whisper.
“Chief wants to see you in his office, Phillips.” A fellow vice detective grumbled, his head not moving from the newspaper in his hands, as she weaved through rows of desks.
Rose merely waved in acknowledgement, setting her purse and coat on top of the desk. Set up closest to the set of staircases, the metal top was adorned with a Royal typewriter, sharpened pencils and pens filled with new ink in a spare coffee mug. Neat and clean, leaving plenty of room for the long hours of paperwork and case reviews.
“Where the fuck is Phillips?” The voice dripped with irritation and control issues.
Chief Stark. Cocky asshole knee deep in money from his father’s brilliant inventions and charm. He was incredibly full of himself, knowing he would get his way if he pissed the right person off enough. Rose had met his acquaintance three years ago when she got promoted to Vice, her ego surely would fit into the department he first thought seeing how she carried herself. A stubborn child he viewed her as and that hasn’t changed. He treated Rose like a distant stepchild, growing protective of her maternally, despite how much she annoyed him while in each other’s presence. It was a love hate relationship but at the end of the day it worked. She did her job with the least amount of problems to clean up and that’s all that mattered.
A quick stop for a fresh cup of coffee from the lounge was much needed before dealing with the headache that had already started, pulsing in her temples with pressure. Straight black with four spoonfuls of sugar, no more, no less.
The front receptionist joined Rose at the stained counter, lips mouthing a silent ‘Good luck.’ as she left the lounge, the burn of the mug along her fingers unnoticed now.
Chief Stark stood at the top of the stairs in a black suit with a red metallic undershirt that was so bright it could be identified as a highlighter. A black tie settled the tone down with little effort and his prized sunglasses rested in the crevice of the shirt, laying flat against his chest. His foot tapped impatiently as his fingers grew white from gripping the banister too hard, a scowl frowned on his face like a disappointed father, “You’re late.”
“No, you’re just a pain in my ass.”, Rose threw her hands up, waving the ceramic coffee cup in his direction as she climbed the steps to his office, “Can’t a lady grab some coffee before getting scolded?”
The comment certainly earned her a few looks, the normal response being a smack to the cheek or worse punishments. Rose was no ordinary woman though. Born and raised in the depths of Jersey City, she was taught many great things. First one to not take anyone's bullshit regardless of their status. Touch her in disrespect and she’d return the favor before anyone could blink. No one wanted to deal with that mess unless the chief said so but more often than not kept his mouth shut, silently strangling her in his mind. He needed her and she damn well knew it.
“Shut up and sit down.”, Stark demanded as Rose stepped into the cluttered office.
The office was stacked with manilla folders, placed along the multitude of tables surrounding the central desk. At least ten file cabinets lined the room, folders peaking through the opening at the top of the draw, bulging at the unorganized paperwork inside. Personal awards and pictures hung along the blue painted walls along with trophies from past cases handed over as mantel pieces to brag about to fellow colleagues or women of his interest. The thought of the number of women straddled along the desk sent bile rising at the back of her throat. She didn’t want to think about what the stains on the floor were from.
Rose threw herself into one of the two guest chairs, the leather huffing as she sat with sudden force. She sipped on her coffee with a sickly sweet smile that always pissed Stark off, especially during the beginning of a morning shift. It gave her great pleasure, “So, what’s my punishment for today boss?”
His patience already thin, he pointed towards the central desk as he shoved a stack of folders in one of the file cabinets next to the door, “Read it.”
Her eyes landed on a set of four manilla folders, three of them opened with a photo and pages upon pages of information. She picked up the folder he had pointed at labeled, sloppily written with her name on the front. Upon opening was a single sheet of paper, barely a quarter of the page full of words.
Year: 1952
Location: Brooklyn, New York.
Assignment: James Buchanan Barnes.
Her face had blanked, flipping the paper over a few times, "What is this?"
"Your assignment."
"There’s barely a sentence worth of words on here.”
“I see that.”
Her brows raised, barely holding back the smirk that quipped at her lips, “I think you need glasses then Chief because this tells me nothing.”
Stark shook his head as he pointed a finger at her like a parent to a small child, “You know if you weren’t as good at your job as you are, I’d kick you to the back with Dr. Banner and let you piss him off instead. Play with the corpses for a day and see how much of a smart ass you are then.”
“Awh, was that supposed to be intimidating chief? I’m shaking in my whittle boots.”
The smirk grew into a grin at his growing irritation for her, huffing under his breath trying to contain himself from feeding more into her satisfaction, “ Back to discussing the case. James Buchanan Barnes has been sighted in Brooklyn again. His accomplices aren’t far behind him either, in fact they’ve been glued to his side since his return.”
Rose opened the remaining folders as he continued, “Sam Wilson, nickname - The Falcon, manages security. Can turn off any security camera with the flick of his wrist. Heard he carries a pet drone around as well. Weird but alright. Anyway, he's helped Barnes move around undetected for years-"
Samuel Thomas Wilson
Known Alias’: The Falcon
DOB: June 24, 1914
Height: 6’3ft
Eye color: Brown
Military background with specialties in wingsuit flight and drones.
Rose read over his background, eyes skimming fluidly over the pages of words before landing on the mugshot clipped in the corner of the paper. Eyes hard with emotionless void filled into the hazel brown swirls. Nothingness stared back at her, projecting a warning to be careful. This man had nothing holding him back from doing anything that had to be done whether he was asked to or not. He’d get the job done and clean his hands of it without a second thought.
She closed the folder, placing it underneath the others on her lap, opening the next one as Stark continued in the background.
"-Steve Rogers, famously known as Captain America, the tank of the team and Barnes' long time friend. He can handle getting hit by a canon and still be standing as if it never hit him. Packs hell of a punch too-"
The scenes of gore hit her view first as she pushed open the sleeve, pictures upon pictures of bodies pulverized in different settings. Rose had closed her eyes at the sight, taking a moment to swallow the heaviness that flooded her. These must’ve been the bodies homicide had been talking about. It connected perfectly if Stark had been right with his intel. A man with power such as he spoke of, could easily do the things the pictures portrayed.
She moved the photos to the back of the folder, moving to the information on the paper beneath.
Steven Grant Rogers
Known Alias’: Captain America
DOB: July 4, 1918
Height: 6’2ft
Eye Color: Blue
Military background with specialties with hand in hand combat, shields and guns.
Contains super soldier serum.
Unlike Wilson, the man in the mugshot looked like America’s sweetheart. The image of every girl's dream guy with the golden blonde hair and smug smirk that flowed with charm and compliments. He knew he could have you in the palm of your hand and it showed greatly. But there was something hidden behind it all. Sadness maybe? It was impossible to tell off of a blurred picture.
"-And finally, James Barnes, The Winter Soldier. He’s the guy we want.”
Blue piercing eyes jumped out at her with an icy chill. So much anger radiated from the image. An emotion as dangerous as fire. Hard to distinguish its flames, spreading its terror in a blaze of uncontrollable destruction. This man was certainly the deadliest of the three.
“Yeah I caught that from the ‘report’. Says his name right here.” Rose quoted, her eyes never lifting from the pages on her lap.
James Buchanan Barnes
Known Alias’: Bucky, The Winter Soldier
DOB: March 10, 1917
Height: 6’0ft
Eye Color: Blue
Military background with specialties of knives, hand to hand combat, and snipers.
Captured by Hydra and brainwashed into an elite super soldier. Unstable and extremely dangerous.
Contains super soldier serum.
Stark gave her a smack of the head with one of the folders earning a mere eyeroll, “He’s the one that runs the show. Arms of steel, quite literally. Lost his left arm during the war, replacing it with a full functioning vibranium prosthetic. How he got his hands on it we’ll never know. He mostly sits around and looks pretty, plays with prostitutes, your usual gist."
Rose sighed at the pounding in her head, chugging the rest of her coffee down in attempts to settle it. It had grown cold, the bitterness deepening with every gulp, “Alright, so what’s the official assignment because I still have yet to know.”
This is where Stark shot her a knowing smirk, pleased that it was his chance to piss her off, “Well my little ray of sunshine, by becoming a courtesan.”
A courtesan, also known as a prostitute for the wealthy. Something she had no familiarity with.
Her brow rose, “Excuse me?”
Stark held a hand up to silence the fit that was about to come his way, “Let me explain before you try to punch me.” He continued his distracted pacing, eyes nailed to the carpet beneath his feet as his mouth moved with ease yet his body remained tense, “Barnes has been seen hanging at a gentlemen’s club near Albert’s dinner. It’s hidden in the back of the antique shop roughly a block down.” He stood in front of her now, arms against his chest as he leaned his back against the center desk, “What we need from you is to go undercover as one of the girls, show a little leg, maybe more if you feel that’ll move things along quicker, get nice and coz-”
“The point please Chief.” Rose gritted her teeth, nails scraping against the leather arm rests.
Stark flashed another look of annoyance but held in any snarky reply, “Long story short, we - I need you to get inside his head, make him question his loyalty. If he’s vulnerable then he’ll be easy to cuff and lock away for what he’s done. Then we can move on to his accomplices because as long as they’re out, he’ll be free in a matter of weeks of being thrown in a cell. So this needs to be done quietly and quickly. By any means necessary Rose.”
A chuckle exhaled from her throat, a squint of her eye and her lips snipped up, “Is this a joke? Did the guys set you up to do this? Or was it Lorraine? It was, wasn't it? I knew that look meant something when she walked by me in the lounge-”
“Enough!”, The air stilled with her dying giggles, a silence filling the space around them awkwardly as he stared at her with a glint in his eye she couldn’t decipher, “This is very serious Rose and you’re the only person I know who can handle it.”
This case meant more than catching a group of serial maniacs. It was personal and she was the only person he had to trust with this, even if the truth was hidden from her.
But Rose was stubborn, too stubborn for her own good, “I’m no whore and I don’t plan on being one no matter the case.”
She knew she was being mildly dramatic. He didn’t order her to do any sexual favors to help the case but the implication struck a nerve.
“Grow the fuck up and do your job or get out then, I don’t have patience anymore for your bullshit.” Stark was at the brink of having an emotional breakdown and Rose finally bit her tongue seeing the shake of his body, sucking on her teeth angrily, “Honestly I could give a shit less on how you do it, just get it done.” A calloused hand stuck out in front of her holding a business card, gold etched letters showcasing an address and name along the white cardstock, “Here’s the address for the place and the word needed to get in the back. I already made arrangements with one of the girls there. She’ll supply you with the necessary.. garments you’ll be needing and anything else you’ll need to know for the job. Now get to work.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice, leaving with a slam of the door, heels clicking obnoxiously on the metal staircase. Grabbing the recently placed coat and purse, she stomped out of the station, ears steaming. She mumbled angrily to herself as she walked down the block, too stubborn to wave down a taxi.
Big mistake.
It took multiple wrong turns and asking fellow pedestrians for directions as she was aware of her newly founded conflict, she was god awful at finding new places.
The neon diner sign illuminated a few feet away in her vision, declaring she was in the right area.
Finally.
A breath of relief huffed out as the worn down storefront came into view.
Brooklyn Antiques .
The bell chimed as she entered, alerting the elderly woman in front of the register of her presence.
“Good morning dear, how can I be of help?” She cooed sweetly, too sweet for Rose’s liking .
Rose tried not to look suspicious as she analyzed the woman, “I'm just looking, thank you."
She walked around aimlessly, sweat building along her back from her body cooling, looking at dusty rows of junk. The card Stark had given her was hidden in her sleeve, the gold shimmering against the light, showcasing the code words when she snuck a peak.
Rose peered at the woman, watching her from the corner of her eye as she spoke, "Wonderful weather isn’t it?", The woman paused her movements for a moment, watching Rose pick up a glass dove from one of the shelves, "But I always carry an umbrella. Never know when it may rain.”
The woman's face didn't falter from the polite smile, she just gave a simple nod before turning, playing with the books along the shelf behind the register. A clicking noise was heard, revealing a door along the wall beside Rose. The hidden entrance was camouflaged to match the wall full of knickknacks and dust covered trinkets.
"Madame Romanoff is expecting you."
Rose nodded in silent thanks, cautiously stepping through the opening. A multitude of locks followed behind as it shut with an ear piercing creak, the hinges rusted and needing a slippery coat of grease.
It was eerily quiet, the velvet walls and carpet absorbed most of the sound that passed through. The only sound that could be heard was a distant hum of movement ahead. Rose reluctantly followed it, her right hand gliding across the gun holstered to her hip. A safeguard for her if things went south. She hoped it wouldn’t for her own sake, there was enough blood on her hands.
The hallway opened up to a small ballroom, an old speakeasy, repurposed to match the high clientele. If it wasn’t what it was, Rose may call it beautiful. The floors were lined with the same velvet carpeting as the hallway, the walls painted in red and gold accents. Glass chandeliers covered the ceiling with swoops of black silk, leaving a shadowed golden warmth among the room. There were four sections of long couches, a circular table in the middle adorned with cigar boxes and lighters. Leading away from the sections was another hallway lined with doors. Rose easily guessed those were for more private requests or for business discussions that couldn’t risk being overheard. There was a staircase that led up to two rooms, the doors covered with sparkly fabric as a privacy barrier. Dressing rooms most likely for the working girls.
A voice broke her away from her thoughts, "You must be Rose."
Her eyes rose to meet a woman standing along the rail on the second floor, dressed in a floor length black gown, her thigh exposed from the slit that ran up the side.
"Natasha I presume."
"Indeed I am." Her eyes skimmed Rose's body with pleasure, she'll do well here, "Please, join me up here. I must give you the grand tour."
Rose wearily climbed the steps, eyes trained on her still figure. She was slender, making her appear taller than she was. 5’5 if Rose had to guess but the heels added a few inches making her tower over the detective with confident ease. Fire red hair was curled past her ears, resting an inch above her shoulders with pearl earrings studded in her lobes.
Gloved arms opened in welcome, her voice echoing in the empty space, "Welcome to my Moulin Rouge, a place for the wealthiest of men to lavish in their wildest fantasies.”
Rose wasn't sure what to make of the woman just yet. So far she was polite, full of sophisticated poise but something lurked behind her eyes. Whether it was good or bad, Rose had yet to be sure.
"It's..lovely Natasha."
"Please, call me Nat. You're one of us now. I'd like to think we could even become friends."
Rose smiled politely, biting back the sarcasm that coated her tongue, "Unfortunately in my line of work you don't make friends, just enemies."
A devilish grin grew on her painted lips, "Even better."
Chapter 2
#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky imagine#bucky x original character#please read#romance#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x oc#steve rogers fanfiction#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes#steve rogers#love triangle#drug lord#swear warning#sorry for swearing#original female character#eventual romance#eventual relationship#bucky barnes smut#eventual smut#sam wilson#tony stark#natasha romanov#the winter soldier#falcon#captain america#1950s#sebastian stan
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On my nerves. (Steve Rogers One-shot)
Summary: Y/N and Steve have a complex relationship. On a busted mission, some conversation pieces come up that need to be solved.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Avenger)
Word Count: 3100+
A/N: I did a small poll on who I should write for next, and I got an even amount of votes, so I decided on Steve! I haven't written for him for a long time and thought it was deserved this long in. So enjoy these fluffy enemies to semi-lovers one-shot :)
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Steve watched, as if in slow-mo, as a knife passed his face and embedded itself into the chest cavity of a man close to getting the jump on him.
"So much for having this mission in the bag, huh?" Y/N's sly comment followed as she jumped from a banister down to the level Steve was on in the attic of an old church.
"The rule was no killing," Steve grunted in frustration as the man he had grasped by the neck fainted, and he tossed him to the side.
"Yeah, well, someone was going to die, and it was either him or the person who's supposed to be running this mission. You should be grateful I didn't choose the second option," she smirked, straightening her tactical vest as she scanned their surroundings. "What's the update?"
Steve could have reprimanded her more, as he was used to doing, but they were on a time crunch, and the men they were sent to take in under SHIELD's order hadn't gotten the memo of no killing.
"Masgood isn't here," he sighed, swiftly anchoring his shield to his back. "He must have gotten word we were coming and staged the place to look like he'd be here."
"Yeah, it seems to be his MO," Y/N sighed, bending as she dug through the pockets of the unconscious assailant.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking the body for clues, duh," she replied with a tone of disinterest. She paused, looking up at Steve. "I know this isn't your first rodeo, so why are you acting like it?" One of her forearms rested on her knee as she squatted over the body and dug through his pockets unbothered.
Steve rolled his eyes and shifted on his feet as look at the space. "Something feels off about all this."
"When does it not? We chase bad guys with evil and sadistic intentions as our career. I'd be worried if it felt right," she grunted softly as she stood up and moved to another body.
Steve moved to a window off to the side and looked at the street and environment below for any more clues.
Their target was a man in charge of a large human trafficking ring. Ivan Masgood. An infamous drug lord who started poking around in a new field of illegal activities. Like most felons, he had personal goons and connections that kept him close to untouchable, but SHIELD had plans to shut that down now that he was tapping into the stealing of innocent adolescents from the streets.
"I say we tie these idiots up for the agents that'll come clean up this mess and make our way to the restaurant down a few blocks. Looks like a good Mediterranean place," she sighed, walking over and leaning against a pillar behind the window where Steve was monitoring pedestrians.
Steve turned to her with an annoyed face, one that was a staple for their duo and eyed her.
"We're on a job. A job that involves a man who is taking advantage of innocent children."
"Yes, and we can't solve it on an empty stomach," she shrugged, pushing on the wood. "And this place is empty. We've handled the few goons here, and now we move on."
"Is it really that simple to you?" Steve huffed, crossing his arms as he turned to her.
"If by simple you mean the practiced next step, then yes. It is," she nodded with no hesitance, even with his stern glare fixed on her.
"You're impossible to-"
"Shhh," she hushed, raising her hand and slightly turning her head.
Steve knew better to question her when she did that. Her hearing was better than his most of the time. Her enhancements weren't far from his own, but sometimes they proved to be even more sensitive than his.
He mouthed a "What?" and she shook her head as a hint to hold on. A few moments passed before she shook her head and returned to reality.
"False alarm," she turned, looking at the only door in and out of the attic. "Help me tie these assholes up, and then we're getting dinner."
"Y/N," Steve started, but she ignored him and searched for rope or anything of length to keep them secure.
Three men tied up with both electric chords and Christmas lights were still unconscious as Steve called in the clean-up crew that was there minutes after Y/N and Steve were in the front of the church, giving a quick rundown of their mission.
"It was a 50/50 shot, Cap. Can't get too hung up on it," Rodney, one of the agents who had been working on the case with them, assured.
"Doesn't make it any less frustrating," Steve sighed before grunting at the pressure hitting his chest. He looked down to see Y/N holding a pile of clothes on his sternum.
"Change. We have a date," She grinned, already in street clothes herself.
He gave her a once over and noticed the small grin on Rodney's lips before he quickly walked away.
"Y/L/N!" Steve yelled after her as she turned and was already moving on to her next task. He groaned and slumped as he looked at the jeans and baseball Henley picked out for him. A hat and sunglasses paired on top.
__________
"Why are we here?" Steve grumbled under his breath as they sat in a booth at the Mediterranian restaurant that looked family-owned but had the ambiance of a well-off family—the two fit in a way that raised a few questions.
He wasn't sure how she had managed to drag him there, but either way, he was there, and something about Y/N orchestrating this entire meal left him confused.
"I haven't had a full meal since last night," she answered, staring at the menu before grabbing the waitress's attention as she balanced two plates in hand. "Can we get the drink menu, please?"
"I'll grab it on my way back," she smiled kindly, her voice accented with a Grecian tongue.
"Thank you," Y/N smiled back kindly and went back to the menu. "I heard their Sangria is amazing. And it's homemade."
"Y/N," Steve ground through his teeth. He was fed up with this side quest that served no purpose. "What are we doing here?" he articulated each word.
"Jeez, Cap. Get the popsicle stick out of your ass and relax some. We're just having dinner and waiting for the show," she responded, putting the plastic-covered menu down and throwing her arm over her side of the booth.
"What show-"
"Drinks?" a teenage boy who looked to be one of the owners' kids begrudgingly asked for their orders.
"I'll take water for now, and this one will have a double scotch neat to help ease his never-leaving glower," she smiled up at the kid, who just blinked at her, and Steve burned holes in her head from the side. "Water. We'll both do water."
"Right…" the kid grumbled, not bothering to write the order as he stalked off.
"You said this had to do with the case. That's the only reason I'm here," Steve intertwined his hands on the table and took a breath as he watched her. In truth, she had vaguely mentioned something about the case, and he ran with that one bullet point, which put him in this position.
"Tell me. How does one sign up to gain your trust? Do I have to jump in the line of fire a second time to get it, or is it like whoever gets your coffee order right without asking? Maybe something in between there?" she leaned forward on the table.
Six months ago, Y/N had jumped in front of a blast from a mutant's powers for Steve, and it had benched her for over a week with the aftereffects.
He hadn't expected her to make that kind of sacrifice, and he had been more than grateful and did his best to show it during her healing time and afterward. But at the end of the day, her snarky comments, struggle to stay professional, and blatant disregard for orders made it hard for him not to be aggravated when she did things.
"It's not trust as much as it's being out of the know for what the real reason for us being here is," he softly said when she looked at him with eyes that seemed to genuinely want to know why he treated her with little patience where he normally gave it freely. "I like to be informed."
She watched his eyes closely as if waiting for the but, but then she tensed ever so slightly, and her eyes flicked behind his shoulder casually.
"That's also known as trust. Not knowing the reasons but counting on the person putting you in the position that they wouldn't do it with ill intent. But if you want your answer, it's behind you. Careful how you turn," she said with a straight face as she looked out the window next to them.
Steve furrowed his eyebrow but discreetly twisted enough to see what she was alluding to.
There he was. Ivan Masgood. With four bodyguards around him and a few associates coming through the back entrance, one of the employees ushered him to a secluded corner for him and his posse.
When Steve turned back around, Y/N was on her phone as if just another customer waiting for their meal.
"How'd you-?"
"I'm good at my job despite what some think." Her comment wasn't missed by Steve, and he could hear the slightest bit of pain in her words. "I overheard some of his goons talking not so confidentially at the church. He stupidly gave away their Randevu point and mentioned a meeting with a potential contact while they waited for us to fall for the trap."
"Was it the two at the front door?" Steve questioned, thinking back to their infiltration of the church/ hideout.
"Yeah, dumb and dumber. I think they just got promoted cause the one who leaked this info bragged about being moved to guard his private residence." She put her phone away and fiddled with the paper wrapper from the straw as she explained. "I can promise if they figure out how we got the intel to come here, he will not be guarding any residence in the near future."
Steve was a little surprised. Y/N had always been good at her job. Hell, there was a reason she ran with The Avengers themselves. Super enhancements helped, but she'd always been more than resourceful in her spying, too.
But sometimes, he didn't see her as taking her job seriously, so when she got the jump on things before him, he felt bad for undermining her.
He monitored the place now that it was a possible environment for a fight. Taking note of the details like exits, number of people, tables, resources, and make-shift weapons if needed.
"Have you contacted Rodney?" he asked as he casually surveyed the place.
"Just messaged. They'll have a team a block away to go if needed," she nodded. "For now, we eat," she smiled overly brightly as the waiter came back over with their drinks.
They ordered, but Steve got the smallest appetizer only to make it less conspicuous as customers.
"Eagle's leaving the nest," Y/N hummed as she ate the last bite of her meal, and the group they had been monitoring walked toward the back alley.
Steve shifted in his seat just enough to see the exit, and they both nodded in confirmation of their next move. Y/N slapped down a wad of cash and shuffled out of the booth where Steve offered his hand, and they left out the front.
For the second time that day, Steve watched as a blade whirled past him, but this time, it implanted itself into the tire of an SUV in the back alley, followed by a loud pop.
The assailants hoping to make a getaway were out of a car now, and Steve had taken the advantage to knee the driver's side door where the man halfway in it, ricocheted his head off the frame and collapsed on the ground.
"On your left!" Y/N shouted as she rangled her own opponent, and Steve noticed another one of Masgood's men escaping.
Not wanting to lose his position since Masgood himself was still in the car he had cornered, he angled and calculated the right throw for his shield to take him down. And with the right aim…
"Fuck!" the man shouted before falling down to the concrete seconds after getting smacked in the temple with the vibranuim disc.
Steve turned after hearing Y/N grunt and saw that two of her attackers had cornered her and were getting a jump on her.
"Y/L/N!" he shouted, stepping her way, but she used another man's body as if a wall and walked her feet up his torso until she was backflipping and rendering them both helpless instantly.
"Rogers, Masgood!" she panted once back on her feet and pointed behind him.
Masgood had pulled out the other side of the car and was positioning a gun right at Steve. Everything happened so fast that Steve didn't know where the gunshot had landed after he ducked from the barrel.
A scream followed, and thinking his aim hit someone else, Steve looked around for the injured only to see Masgood holding his shoulder where the butt of a blade was jutting out.
"You fucking bitch!" Masgood turned his attention to Y/N, who had been smiling at her shot. He dropped quickly to grab the gun that fell out of his grip, but before he could get to it, Steve slid over the hood and tackled him.
"That's no way to speak to a lady," Steve gritted out as he pinned him to the ground and brought his hands around his back.
Any of Masgood's men that may have escaped the narrow alley had been caught by the backup team Y/N had set up a block away. By the time the fight was over, eight men were already in custody, and Masgood was locked in a contained SHIELD van.
After going through a briefing with Rodney, who had been instructing the team outside the alley, Steve and Y/N finally took a minute to breathe.
"Thanks for packing my shield," Steve said kindly as they moved to their SUV.
"Didn't want to have you fighting without your comfort item," she smiled but winced as she rolled her shoulder.
"You ok?" he stopped in his tracks, moving in front of her to keep her from going any further.
"I'm fine," she mumbled, moving her shirt sleeve and looking at her arm for the wound. "Just a scratch."
Steve didn't hesitate to shift the long sleeve to see the cut in the fabric and the blood that had soaked through it.
"You were supposed to get checked by the medics," he studied the injury, and she hissed at the pressure of his gentle touch, which was enough to sting.
"It's nothing a bandaid can't fix. Besides, it'll be a scar come morning," she tried to brush his hand off, but he gave her a stern look at the action. "Why are you so worried? I figured you could care less if I walked out with a katana protruding from my gut."
Her eyes refused to meet his, and he hated the feeling that overcame him at the idea that she thought he wouldn't be phased by something like that.
"That's not true," he said gently, his hand loosened its grip but didn't leave her arm.
"You sure as hell don't act any other way," she mumbled, looking at his hand and placing her own on his to try and remove it. "Seriously. You don't have to act like you care just cause you feel bad-"
"Y/N, I'm not acting," he turned her face to his, gripping her chin between his thumb and index finger. "I would never wish to see you hurt."
She didn't fight the hold he had her in, but she gave him weary eyes at his comment.
"Your words tell me otherwise, Steve." Her words were said with a form of hurt that he never pictured her holding.
"I'm sorry," he lowered his head every so slightly to catch her eye line better. "I'm sorry that I'm a hardass around you and make you feel like I'd rather see you hurt or injured than alive and well."
"I don't understand what I've done to-" she started and pulled her head back before he, without thought, pulled her arm he had a grip on into him, making her body crash into his.
She froze initially, but when his arms wrapped around her back, he rested his head on her. She sighed and fell into it. She needed that hug more than he realized.
"You get on my nerves, Y/L/N, but it's not in a way that I'd wish never to experience it again. I act like I can't stand it, but truthfully, I need someone to keep me in check the way you do," he muttered as he rested his chin on her head. "I'm sorry I don't give you the benefit of the doubt where you deserve it most."
"Why?" she mumbled into his chest.
"Honestly?" he hummed, pulling her back and looking at her still in his embrace. "I think it scares me how much I actually care when you drive me as crazy as you do."
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she turned her head at him.
"What do you mean, Rogers?" she said in almost a whisper.
"I mean, I can't wrap my head around how you constantly get on my nerves, but I like it."
There was a pause as they stared at each other, and her lips slowly curved.
"Steve. Are you confessing that you may actually like me?" she grinned.
He chuckled under his breath, making his chest vibrate.
"I'm confessing that we may have some things to figure out, I guess," he nodded, not feeling hesitant at surprisingly admitting that.
"Well, isn't that a 180 from how we started the day," she laughed, pulling back. "How about we stop for a sweet treat for this discussion that I'm definitely pulling you into when we get to the compound?"
"Am I going to regret confessing this?" he scrunched his nose but couldn't help the smile that followed.
"It's me. What do you think?" she shrugged, moving toward the SUV passenger side.
"Good to know our ways aren't changing much," he sighed, following behind her to open her door.
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Cat and Mouse - Spy AU - Part 1
AO3
18th April 2015
Steve pulled the trigger, barely even paying attention as the bullet tore through the head of his target. He was just so ready to go home, god this week had been boring.
His target was some bank executive that had started to funnel funds towards various criminal enterprises, helping those criminal families gain more power and Steve had been contracted to weed that rot out, right at the root.
The Hagans, Kline and Johnson families would probably still find ways to rise up in the ranks but it had been kneecapped now, making things more difficult for them.
They’d never climb to the heights of the Creel Syndicate anyway.
Steve was pretty sure no one could.
Henry Creel, legendary crime lord that he was, had somehow managed to cultivate a culture of fear and respect amongst even the lowest of street drug dealers.
Not to mention the borderline mythical assassin he was rumoured to have at his side. No one knew who they were, no one even knew if they existed. Some claimed the assassin was just some boogeyman story cooked up by Creel to keep his workers in line and Steve wouldn’t put it past him. The guy was creative.
And some things that had been attributed to this assassin were downright impossible so… They were probably made up.
This mythical boogeyman had some kind of title as well but Steve had never really paid much attention to the rumours and the ghosts floating around the underworld he was a part of.
Lies were practically currency to them so he’d have to see it to believe it.
Whoever ended up working on the Creel case was going to have their fucking work cut out for them.
Holstering his weapon, Steve snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves and he knelt beside his dead mark, slowly leaking blood and brains from the hole at the back of his head.
Steve fished around inside the guy’s pockets, locating his wallet. There was a family photo in there, library card, organ donor card, an obscene amount of credit cards and a loyalty card for the strip club across town.
Since when did strip clubs do loyalty cards?
Whatever. Steve located his driver's licence and pulled it out.
“Hm.” Steve tilted his head, reading the name from the laminated card. “Sorry, Peter. It’s not personal. It’s just business.”
He tucked the licence back into the guy's wallet, returning it to his pocket.
It only took three minutes for Steve to stage the scene, breaking into the guy's gun safe, planting the weapon just next to his hand, like it had flown out of his grip when he pulled the trigger.
He slipped out into the hallway of the high rise apartment building, removing his gloves and stuffing them into his pocket, pushing his hair back from his face and coming to a stop in front of the elevator.
The doors opened and an elderly lady with a yappy dog gave him the suspicious eye, no doubt not recognising him from this floor but as Steve took a step back with his most charming smile and a gentlemanly gesture, motioning her out of the elevator she smiled back and he knew he was in the clear.
He got back down to the lobby and through the front door, onto the streets with no issue, allowing himself to get lost in the crowd.
He reached up to his ear, flicking a small switch on the back of his ‘hearing aid’, allowing Robin to hear him, rather than just monitor his location and vitals.
“Okay, I’m out. You can stop looping the cameras.”
“Roger that, dingus.” Robin was probably saluting him right now from behind her desk, sounding like she was speaking in his head.
It had taken a long time for him to get used to it, hearing Robin, but still being able to hear everything around him at the same time.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“Be nicer to me.”
“You say that to me every time, and every time I say no. Job went easy enough?”
“Yeah, practically childsplay.”
Steve kept his eyes open, never quite able to switch the part of his brain off that was waiting for the next hit from around a corner, a knife in the gut or a bullet in the shoulder.
He’d already managed to walk a few blocks, trying to put as much space between himself and his completed job as he could without moving too fast.
The crowd around him was both safety giving and dangerous.
Easy to disappear into but easy for someone to sneak up on him unseen.
Speaking of…
There was a figure shadowing him, had been shadowing him for a few minutes.
It could be nothing.
It could be some guy walking the same route as him.
But it wasn’t.
Every time Steve caught sight of him in his periphery or through the reflection of a store window, the guy had his eyes on him.
Locked on him, like he couldn’t afford to lose him, but Steve wasn’t worried.
The guy was weedy, probably weighed 140 pounds soaking wet.
The large leather jacket and the denim vest made him look bulkier than he was and he'd nearly tripped over his own shoelaces twice trying to keep up.
Steve could tell when people were dangerous. It was in the way they held themselves. The way they walked. The way they looked at those around them. How they held their hands at rest.
This guy was none of those things.
He might dress mean and scary but he was as delicate as a flower petal on the inside, Steve could tell.
So he wasn't exactly worried he was about to be shoved into a black van or choked out.
At least not this time around.
He was probably just going to be pickpocketed.
He recognised the look on the guy's face.
Desperate.
A panicky kind of desperate.
Like if the guy didn’t get some money into his hand immediately, the hounds of hell were gonna be on his ass. Probably break his kneecaps for good measure.
He could just be looking for money for a fix, Steve tried to reason with himself. He certainly had the eye bags, the pale waxy skin, the skinny frame that told that kind of story.
But even from as far away as he was, Steve knew that wasn’t the case.
Though he couldn’t see him clearly, he could tell his eyes were bright.
Alive and clear and piercing and active.
Not the hazy, cloudy, bloodshot gaze of someone coming down from their high or going through withdrawal.
Steve guessed he was some kind of dealer.
Street level, considering how he tried to look scary but wasn’t really.
Any higher up than street level and he would have held a certain amount of danger around himself. He would have had to, to survive after all.
So what had made him so desperate and what about Steve had caught his gaze?
Steve glanced down at himself, to his pristine polo, light wash vintage levi’s and spotless sneakers.
Ah.
Well that would be it.
Steve looked like he came from money. Especially walking through this part of the city.
And like… the guy’s guess wasn’t wrong.
Steve did come from money. But he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his parents or their money since he was eighteen years old, nine years ago.
Any money Steve had now was his own. Being a spy paid really well, as it turned out.
But the desperation radiating off this guy, even as far back in the crowd as he was, was making him sloppy. A regular civilian would know they were being followed at this stage, never mind Steve Harrington who’d been trained to within an inch of his life for this.
He could enter a room he’d never been in before and immediately know the most effective route for escape. He could look at a lineup of randomly selected people and know straight away who was the most dangerous in hand to hand combat and who would be most likely to have a weapon on them.
Steve could snap this guy in half over his knee probably without breaking a sweat.
Even still he felt a little bad.
He needed to talk it out. Needed someone to confirm for him he wasn’t going crazy.
"Someone's on my tail, Birdie." Steve muttered, flipping the switch on his hearing aid communicator again.
"Okay,” He could almost picture her nodding. “Gimme a description, I'll see if I can find them."
"No, it’s not an enemy or anything. I don't even think it's something I need to be worried about, honestly. Just some bottom of the totem pole dealer. Nicotine stains on his fingers, cigarette burns on his clothes. And Jesus Christ has he ever even heard of conditioner? And his eyes are huge.”
“Do you think he’s on something?”
“No.” He kept his eyes forward and continued to smoothly weave his way through the crowd. “But he is pale. Gaunt. His denim jacket looks pretty ratty. It’s been repaired multiple times. By hand. And he definitely hasn't eaten in a while. I think he’s probably gonna try to steal my wallet to stop his boss from breaking his legs."
“You don’t think that maybe he’s just hungry?”
Steve shook his head. “No. He looks pretty desperate but not that kind.” He frowned again, almost muttering. “Scared desperate.”
Robin sighed. "Steven."
"What?"
"Don't do it, babe."
"Why shouldn't I help the guy out?” Steve was already pulling his wallet out while ruffling his hair.
Misdirection.
“I can part with $20. Stick it in my jacket pocket, loose. Make it just obvious enough and easy to take. What's the big issue?"
"You're a bleeding heart, that's the issue."
"Yeah, well. He clearly needs it more than I do."
"Is he cute?" She asked in a teasing tone, making it clear she thought he wasn’t just a bleeding heart, he was a horny bleeding heart who could be swayed by a pretty face.
Which…
Didn’t need to be pointed out.
"...No."
"Wow, decorated Special Operative Steven J. Harrington everyone.” He could almost hear her waving her hands around. “Infiltrator, martial combatant and, apparently, a master liar. On his way to recruit another wayward stray."
"Oh, fuck off. Why not spit out my whole government name, that definitely won't put me in danger."
"You're wearing a bone conduction audio transmitting ‘hearing aid’, I'm literally in your head-”
“You’re not in my head, you’re in my cochlea.”
“Which is in your head, dingus. No one can hear me and it's a secure line. You, however, can be overheard so don't sell me down the river."
"Well then, you better be nicer to me."
“Never.”
Something bumped against his elbow and he was suddenly, painfully aware of a body behind him, right up in his space.
He didn’t even think before he lashed out behind him, snatching the figure's wrist in a vice-like grip, spinning the two of them into a nearby alleyway and pinning the stranger against the wall.
“Woah, man.”
Oh.
It was just the guy who’d been following him.
He was staring at Steve with wide, deep, brown eyes, shaking his head.
He looked fucking terrified.
“I- I don’t want any trouble, I swear.”
Steve took a breath before dropping the guy’s wrist like it had burned him, taking a step back.
The guy's eyes were flicking nervously over Steve’s face, waiting for him to strike probably, before his gaze settled just to the left of Steve’s head.
He was looking at his hearing aid, but Steve pretended not to know that, lifting his hand to his ear in confusion and allowing him to subtly flip the switch off so Robin couldn’t hear anything anymore.
“Try not to fall on his dick.” She muttered at him when she heard the click.
But he could hear her, like always.
Steve rolled his eyes, making sure it was aimed at the guy, acting like his exasperation was because he just noticed the hearing aid.
“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly gonna feel bad because of this?” Steve gestured at it.
The guy shook his head, still plastered up against the wall as though he wanted to melt into it, trying to put even more distance between them.
“Relax, man. I’m not gonna attack you, or whatever.” He crossed his arms over his chest, setting up another barrier between them to try and put the guy at ease.
He didn’t think it was working very well.
The guy in front of him looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. The same height as Steve but built much smaller, slender and delicate looking despite the heavy boots and chains and tattoos Steve could see peeking out under the neck of his shirt and spreading over his hands and fingers.
His hair was a curly nightmare, clearly needing an introduction to some conditioner and probably brushed with a regular hairbrush like a heathen, but aside from that the guy was…
Well, he was gorgeous.
His mouth was full and plump and parted ever so slightly in fear. His eyes were as huge as Steve thought they were at first glance, deep and brown and warm. His face was slim and soft looking, with laugh lines cutting down on either side of his mouth and a hint of scraggly stubble that was putting Steve in emotional danger.
Steve could probably throw him over his shoulder with ease.
Maybe that wasn’t the most helpful thing to be thinking right now.
“Right, right, yeah.” The guy nodded again. “You’re not gonna attack me. You just dragged me into an alleyway for a friendly chat.”
“And you just stuck your hand in my pocket for completely innocent reasons.”
The guy blinked at him, those big eyes somehow getting bigger before growing mischievous, despite the clear nervousness still radiating off of him.
“You planted it there.”
Steve opened and closed his mouth, his eyebrows high on his head.
“You saw that?”
“Was I not supposed to?” He squeaked, like Steve was gonna kill him just for pointing it out. “It was kind of obvious.”
Interesting. Maybe he’d underestimated him.
“It shouldn’t have been.”
“Really?” The guy gave him a playful grimace. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. I saw it from a mile off.”
Steve’s mouth tugged into a reluctant smile and he ducked his head a little to hide it, leaning back against the opposite wall.
“What’s your name?”
“Wh-” The guy paused, shaking his head, bewildered. “What’s happening right now?”
“I’m asking you your name.”
“Yeah, I got that part sweetheart, but why the hell are you doing that?”
Sweetheart was sneered out but it still got the colour rising up Steve’s neck.
“I don’t know, to help you chill out a little bit or something. Fuck. I’m sorry I dragged you back here, I think I was just going off of… fight or flight or something.”
“Great, great. You be fight, I’ll be flight.”
Steve couldn’t help the light chuckle that came out at that and was taken momentarily off guard by the small smile it brought to the guy's face.
Pretty. He’s so fucking pretty.
Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the $20 he’d originally stashed, holding it out between his index and middle finger.
The guy eyed it before flicking his gaze back up to Steve.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting in exchange for that but I’m not that cheap. Even for a face as nice as yours.”
“What?” Steve scrunching his eyebrows in confusion before realisation dawned on him. “Dude. I’m not asking you to blow me for twenty fucking dollars. Christ.”
The guy hummed, but snatched the bill up anyway. Steve could just make out the word inked across his knuckles, mors. The calluses on the tips of his fingers brushed Steve’s skin, telling a story of years playing a string instrument.
Based on the position and angle, it could have been guitar or bass, but it could have also been cello or violin.
The look would suggest guitar or bass but classical instrumentalists were always dark horses, never looking like how they’d be expected to look.
Steve would need to see his other hand to confirm if there was any healed damage on his thumb, indicating years of holding a bow and to see what he had inked over the fingers there.
Not that he was interested.
He was staring at the guy's hand for too long, the tendons standing proud under his skin and Steve only snapped back to himself when the guy tucked the bill away into his back pocket.
“I would say I have more dignity than that but a blowjob is definitely not the worst thing I’ve ever done in an alleyway. But yeah. Not for twenty dollars.”
Steve could feel the blush rise up higher on his neck and if the expression on the guy's face was anything to go by, it was visible now over the collar of his polo.
“You alright there, sweetheart? You seem a little flustered.”
“Steve.” He supplied, clearing his throat and trying to push the redness back down. “My name is Steve.”
The guy hummed again with a grin. “Think I prefer ‘sweetheart’.”
“And you?”
“I’m partial to ‘baby’ myself.”
Steve uncrossed his arms with a shake of his head, unable to hide his smile while putting his hands on his hips.
“What’s your name,” he asked, before deciding to add on “baby?” At the end, with a tilt to his head, making his hair fall into his eyes and giving the guy, what Robin called, his puppy dog look.
The guy bit down on his bottom lip, the corner of his mouth ticking up and his eyes seeming to turn darker the longer he paused. “Eddie.”
“Eddie suits you.”
“I should hope so.” Eddie shrugged. “It’s the only name I got.”
“Baby suits you too.”
His eyes travelled up and down Steve’s body, leaving fire in their wake.
“Gotta say sweetheart, this is not how I thought this was gonna go when you grabbed me. Thought you were gonna smash my face in.”
Steve frowned. “I wouldn’t do that.” He dragged his eyes over Eddie again. “Wouldn’t be fair. Guess I was just surprised to feel your hand in my pocket.”
Even though he’d been expecting it, Eddie had managed to sneak up on him, which was not something he was used to.
Eddie’s smile dimmed a little and he sighed, pushing himself off the wall and beginning to wander aimlessly.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, lightly punching at the wall, expending energy. “Sometimes there aren’t a lot of options I guess.”
“Listen. I don’t know what kind of shit you’re wrapped up in but there’s always the option to get out of the game.”
Eddie swept his boot back and forth through the grime and dirt on the ground of the alley, leaving a tiny clearing in his wake. “If only that were true.”
“It can be.”
Eddie shrugged again now backing up towards the mouth of the alley. “Sometimes life doesn’t work out that way.”
Just before he got to the edge where he could disappear around the corner and into the crowd, he paused.
He regarded Steve with a tilted head before stepping forward again and taking Steve’s hand in his, raising it to his lips.
“See you around, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered into his knuckles before pressing his lips down, gentle and soft.
Steve let the blush take over his face this time, playing up the coy angle just a bit too hard but fixed Eddie with a cocky smirk regardless.
“I certainly hope so, baby.”
He was delighted to see a matching blush across Eddie’s face who exited the alley with a wink and then he was gone.
Steve reached up to his ear and switched his hearing aid back on.
“Oh good,” Robin’s voice came through a little bored, “you’re not dead.”
“No, I am actually dead, my ghost has just possessed the instruments monitoring my vitals to make it look like I’m still alive.”
“That’s alright then.” She sighed. “Less paperwork involved for me if they think you’re still alive.”
Steve hummed in agreement, finally leaving the alley with a quick glance up and down the street but Eddie was well and truly gone.
“So what happened with the guy?”
“We talked a little, I gave him some money and told him to get out of whatever game he’s in.”
He was close to his apartment building, he was surprised to find.
He’d been an auto pilot, paying more attention to Eddie following him than he had been where he was going.
“That’s it? I would have expected better from Slut Harrington.”
“You’d prefer if I told you the guy fed me his dick?” Steve asked, stopping in front of the entrance to his building and using the subtle biometric security to get in. “Or worse, you’d prefer to listen in? Wow-”
Robin’s screech nearly blew the side of his head open.
He was glad he had made it into the elevator by then because the shockwaves sent him reeling backwards into the metal walls like he’d been punched.
He heard the ding and the whir of metal as he started moving up towards the top floor.
“Jesus tap dancing Christ, Birdie!”
“You deserved it! I remember Steve! I still remember the last and only time I nearly heard you get your dick into-”
“Then don’t get pissy when I tune you out!”
Robin huffed. “I will never get those sounds out of my head.”
“People would pay good money for those sounds.”
“I’m sure they would but I am not one of them.”
Steve didn’t respond, just let out a heavy sigh as he exited the elevator and crossed the short hallway to get to his door.
He put his key in his lock and his hand on the handle at the same time, waiting just a second for the scan to complete before he heard the multiple locks and bars in the thick door click open allowing him inside.
If there was one perk to working a life threatening job that regularly got him injured for a non-governmental international agency resulting in almost no personal life, it was that the pay was really good.
Steve had grown up around money, he was used to it. But that money had been stuffy and came with so many strings attached. This money was his money and he got to do what he wanted with it.
And what he wanted didn’t involve soulless art pieces and ugly as fuck chandeliers just because they were in some magazine that his mother read.
Steve’s space was mismatched. He decorated with pieces he liked the look of, regardless of whether it all ‘went together’. He was the only one living here so he wasn’t going to decorate according to anyone else’s standards. He’d been doing enough of that throughout his life already.
His furniture was vintage or artisan in nature, found in tiny little antique shops hidden away in corners or crafted by small business owners who loved what they did.
The front door led directly into an open plan living/dining/kitchen space. The floor to ceiling windows facing the park had been heavily altered. Thick enough to not let any sound or bullets through and made to obscure the view enough that a person would need to be pressed right up against the glass to see in, even though Steve could see out clear as day.
Steve’s apartment was the go-to venue for any kind of game night, the Super Bowl, playoffs, the World Series, they were all hosted here. His TV and sound system were unparalleled.
He’d made sure of it.
The couches were solidly framed but Steve wouldn’t have gotten them if they weren’t also the most comfortable ones he could find. One of them had to be reupholstered and none of them matched but he didn’t care.
Lucas always got pride of place in the middle with Steve while the other sports-heads, Robin and surprisingly El, took up the remaining space at either side of them.
Everyone else was happy to sit along the sidelines, mainly there for the food anyway.
Even all the pots and pans in his kitchen were a hodgepodge of whatever he found. Vintage copper and well aged cast iron lined the walls.
The only things he’d conceded to buying new were the electrics.
And then there was all the spy shit.
But that was a given. It was mostly functional stuff, hidden safes and compartments to keep documents and hard drives secure. Multiple concealed pockets and nooks containing a variety of small handheld weapons. The odd button here and there to enable or disable the silent alarm.
And the safe room, hidden behind the bath that only Steve knew how to get into or that it was even there. Robin didn’t know. The higher ups at work didn’t know. Hopper didn’t know.
Maybe that was just a little too much paranoia, even for him, but paranoia had never steered him wrong before.
“Okay Birdie.” Steve flopped down face first onto his couch. “I am officially clocking out. Will I see you this weekend?”
“If this date goes well, hopefully not.”
“Go get her, tiger. I believe in you.”
“I believe in me too.”
“That’s the spirit.”
They said their goodbyes, Steve hoping against hope that Robin and this new girl worked out.
She deserved something good in her life.
He tried to distract himself by making dinner, showering and bingeing that TV show she insisted he had to watch (Ineffable Husbands or whatever it was called) but his mind kept wandering back to big brown eyes and soft plush lips.
Steve rapped the remote against his forehead a few times, trying to drive the thoughts away but they wouldn’t go anywhere.
Robin had jokingly suggested that Steve was going to recruit Eddie into the fold and it wouldn’t be the first time, if it ever did happen.
Honestly, if it helped pull the guy out of whatever situation he’d gotten himself into, why shouldn’t he?
There were probably a thousand reasons to not drag Eddie into Steve’s dangerous world but just the thought of those eyes and that smile being directed at him again would have Steve doing almost anything.
Part 1 AO3
@geekymagicalpotato
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.
This fic is about 70% complete and is currently clocking in at just under 40k so far. I love this story so much, it has taken over my life in the best way.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#penny00dreadful#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#fanfic#pennys anniversary event#spies au#spy steve harrington#tw guns#tw murder#robin buckley#guy in the chair robin#cat and mouse spy fic
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Thorns In His Mouth
Part V
Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: obsession, dubious consent, minor character death, drugs (neither reader nor Steve are involved), slight eating disorder, mentions of tumor, high tech elves.
Words: 1.7k
Summary: Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn’t force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone’s wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
________
You didn't remember how you've gotten home. Whatever happened yesterday in that fallen fae's hovel already became a blur except for the face of a dead elf laying on a dirty sofa, his black veins like spider silk threads, shaking you to the core. You saw his peaceful face when you slept, and you woke up weeping, your lids puffy and wet.
Although you knew nothing of him, and perhaps there was nothing surprising about a drug addict like him dying, he had been a living being, still. He wasn't born but made this way. It was hard to believe that a brave warrior, a protector of his kin, even if he failed to win one of his battles, deserved to end up like that, abandoned by everyone, human or fae. Did anyone, though?
Julius got no help, no sympathy, no hope. Surely, he wasn't the only one, and your human world was full of homeless and troubled people who faced the same things, but seeing a man - an elf - die like that made you want to scream until someone came and set things right.
He should have gotten help. He deserved it, at least. If he had gotten it on time, wouldn't he be alive now? He'd meet you that night with Steve, tell you his story, listen to you asking him to meet that mysterious High Lord who was searching for his brother, and perhaps returned to the Sacred lands where he belonged.
But now Julius was dead, and you had to live with it.
The water was cold, but you still spent good twenty minutes in the shower, letting the water wash away the fatigue - it felt as if you hadn't slept at all - and tears that kept rolling down your cheeks. You felt exhausted and scared. Why didn't you anticipate this when agreeing to the deal with that elf? He told you honestly what became of the fallen fair folk. You should have known what to expect. What were you going to do? Shouldn't you have at least called the police to report Julius' body? How did elves go about this? Did they even bury the bodies of the folk? Would they leave it up to humans? Would they take a grave offense if people showed up and took the body of one of them? Have Steve done anything?
When you almost gathered enough strength to call the police, you realized you hadn't the slightest idea where that place where you found the dead elf was. You had no address, and with your sense of direction it was impossible to guess where Steve had taken you yesterday. You did walk quite a while, after all.
You hoped Steve took care of Julius. You were scared to go looking for that place, shaking as you wrapped yourself in your thick cotton robe.
But you'd have to come back anyway, wouldn't you? You had to respect your end of the bargain. You needed to get back in that café that smelled like piss and vomit, full of addicts and alcoholics and all sorts of degenerates and stay there as long as it took until you found that one elf your mysterious friend was looking for.
You couldn't do it. It was simply out of question.
Before you could give this thought some time, figuring out how to deal with you High Lord elf, your phone suddenly rang, and you immediately recognized the number of your mother's doctor. Why was he calling? Why so early in the morning?
The screening. They had her screening early in the morning today. Good God, you forgot.
You gripped the phone tightly in your hand, pressing it to your ear, "Good morning, Mr. Alves."
The man on the other side greeted you in a somewhat nervous tone, albeit trying to mask it, unconvincingly, and your heart fell somewhere down your stomach. Good God, you despised hearing back from the hospital. They rarely brought you good news.
"How's she?" You asked grimly, setting your eyes on your reflection on the mirror but seeing nothing at all, too invested in the conversation.
There was a distinctive silence on the other side of the phone, and you trembled, gripping your own so hard the display's glass protector threatened to break under pressure. In your mind you have already invisioned numerous scenarios, all rather apocalyptic, involving your mother and you, and you breath grew shallow from the wave of anxiety. Why was he silent?
"We have... an unexpected development," the doctor mumbled, and you tore your lower lip, tasting blood on your tongue. "The... the tumor stopped growing. Abruptly."
"What?"
You stared stupidly at your own reflection, finally noticing how horribly you looked after a sleepless night, crying your eyes out, but you dismissed your fatigued face, licking the blood off your lip as you pressed the phone closer to your ear, afraid you misheard.
"I-I'm sorry, could you say it again, please? It has stopped growing?"
Despite how aggressive it was before?
"Yes, it has. Before you ask me why, we're still not sure if your mother started responding to the latest changes in her treatment, but... but it has stopped growing. For now. Which is good."
"Yes. Yes, it's... it's good."
"It's good."
"It's very good."
You clapped a hand against your mouth so the doctor wouldn't have to listen to your hysterical cries and wailing. It has stopped growing. It finally has. Your mother was stable, for once, the first good news you got in forever. How long has it been since Dr. Alver told you anything hopeful? More and more your visits to him were making you sick as you failed to have any kind of support, a reassurance your mother would be alright. On the contrary, he was telling you to prepare yourself. You dreaded your visits to his office, each accompanied by such anxiety you were close to having a panic attack.
And now your mother was good. Maybe not entirely, but safe. She responded to the treatment.
... or has she?
For a second, you froze on the stop. The treatment? The treatment she was unresponsive to for so long, with all these inadequate doctors just waving their hands off when you asked them about new treatments or experimental programs that may help your mother when they themselves couldn't?
No, she wasn't responding to their crude method of treating her tumor. She was responding to the elf and his ways. To his magic, in exchange for your services.
____________
You were at the cafe right after you finished your work. You were exhausted beyong measure and still frightened of what may happen, but your determination made you put that aside. Your mother mattered above anything and anyone else. She was in there, fighting for her life, and the least you could do was to give her a chance.
But when you spotted a familiar tall elf with a distinctive bleached hair reaching his waist, you almost ran away. Steve had to yell at the top of his voice to stop you when you tried to squeeze yourself into the wall from fear, facing a dead end.
"Please! I won't hurt you!" He exhaled, cornering you as the passing fae with horns looked at the two of you, curious but warned against intervening by an exasperated elf and his icy stare.
You gulped down, shivering.
"I swear I won't hurt you. Please, don't run," he pleaded.
As if you had a choice with him blocking the road, you thought, clenching your black bag against your chest like it was a magic shield. What did this deranged elf want with you? Was he now tied to you by some ridiculous ritual he needed to perform since you saw the death of his kin? Did he need to erase your memory? You wouldn't mind it, actually.
"How may I help you?" You asked, puzzled and unsure how to even adress the elf. Were you on friendly enough terms to call him by his human name after what you had seen yesterday?
Steve gave out a sad laugh, turning his head away for a second before he looked at you and pulled something from the pocket of his leather jacket, making you tremble again until you saw they were your pearl earrings you had given the elf yesterday. Why was he giving them back to you? Did they not suffice? Did he want something better?
"Take them," he said with longing as if he was partying with a king's crown, placing them in your palm, his pale skin cold to the touch. "This is my apology to you for... for everything."
You stared at the white round pearls in your hand, blinking, not knowing what to say. Was it customary to return a gift given for fae's services if that fae failed to provide them? It made sense, sort of. But had Steve really failed? He had only promised to take you to the elf who might have been someone you were looking for, and he fulfilled his end of the bargain. Why was he giving you your earrings back?
As you watched them, suddenly thinking they were heavier now and bringing them closer to your face, you realized those were not the cheap plastic pearls you bought from a local store for a couple of dollars. They were real pearls, round and shiny and impossibly beautiful.
"You replaced the pearls?" Taken aback, you stared at the man, open-mouthed.
He nodded, nervously tucking his bleached hair behind his ear, "Yes. I made a talisman out of them, and it required decent material for a strong enchantment. Pearls are durable... and pretty."
They were enchanted?
Dear God, please let it be a good enchantment, you thought, sweating profusely with a goddamn faery relic in your hand.
_________
"It's a protection spell. A good, strong one," he added quickly, noticing your discomfort. "It'll help you when we'll be searching for the elf you're looking for."
Part VI
Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodierin @yeolliedokai @what-is-your-wish @lou-la-lou @gachawipes133 @eralen @magnificantmermaid @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @youngdreamer3214
#yandere#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#mcu fanfiction#captain america#dark steve rogers x reader
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📖Beta & Omega
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Bucky x ofc
Tags: period au-Edwardian era, a/b/o, heat cycles, nesting, pregnancy, post partum, breast feeding, body insecurities, sex toys, p in v sex, oral sex f!receiving, threesome, plural marriage, headship, arranged marriage
Summary: Nora's hit her heat. Since their alpha and headship is currently stuck in the Senate weathering a lengthy filibuster, it’s fallen to Bucky to take care of her needs.
Bucky takes the block of cheddar from the icebox and carries it to the kitchen counter by the front window. He’s cutting off a few slices of the cheese and adding it to the plate that he’s made up for Nora.
She’s hit her heat—her first since giving birth four months ago—and holed herself up in her selected nesting closet. Since their alpha and headship is currently stuck in the Senate weathering a lengthy filibuster, it’s fallen to Bucky to take care of her needs. He looks up from the fruit and cheese plate he’s prepared when he hears the loud rumble of an engine. A glance through the window to the street outside shows that a motor carriage has just pulled up to the curb. When the driver comes round, it’s Lady Whittemore who is helped from the car, sneer on her face as she makes sure to keep the hem of her dress out of the dirty street snow. Bucky sighs and glances down to himself. He’s still in his nightshirt—not exactly appropriate attire for greeting guests.
The house bell rings and just a moment later one of the servants is peeking her head into the kitchen. She blushes and averts her eyes when she sees how little Bucky is wearing. “Um, begging your pardon Sir. Lady Whittemore has come to call. Shall I show her to the front parlor?”
Bucky affords her a smile. “That’s fine Gertie. Tell her that the Lords and Lady Rogers aren’t entertaining visitors this afternoon but offer her some tea and to stay for as long as she likes.”
“Yes sir.” Gertrude steps into the kitchen and lays a few letters and a small parcel atop the kitchen island. “Today’s post,” she says.
“Thank you.”
Gertrude gives a small curtsy and spins back around to leave.
“Oh and Gertie? Gabe is having his nap upstairs. Keep an eye on him while I’m with his mother?”
She nods politely. “Course Sir.”
Bucky takes the plate and the package from the counter and goes to the servants’ hallway off the kitchen. There’s a small door in the wall which leads to a tiny thing of a room—Nora’s chosen nesting spot. There is of course a proper nesting closet upstairs, near the master bedrooms. It’s original to the house itself, finer than this tiny room off the servants’ hallway. But Nora had found the little nook tucked just off the kitchen and decided that this was where she’d have her babies, where she’d pass her heats. Bucky looks down at the tray of fruits and cheese that he holds and knocks on the door. Trust Nora to want to stick close by to the food.
A light, “Come in” is said, and Bucky turns the knob on the door. It opens to reveal the tiny room. Nora is curled up in a mound of blankets. Bucky can’t help but smile softly at her. “Hey doll.”
She holds out her arms. “C’mere.”
He stoops with the plate in hand to get through the small doorway of the nesting closet. The inside is dark, lit only by a single gas light on the wall. There are soft blankets and pillows everywhere—a true nest that Bucky knows his wife has worked very hard on. The closet smells of old wood and close bodies. It’s got Nora’s own vanilla scent, mingled along with his and Steve’s from times that all three of them have spent together in there. Bucky sees that Nora’s brought one of each of their unwashed nightshirts in with her to add to the smell, as well as one of Gabriel’s soft blankets. He smiles at that, convinced that she’d have drug their infant son himself in there if he wasn’t already napping upstairs. After these past four months, the entire Rogers’ household is very much aware that you never, ever wake a sleeping baby.
Bucky hands the plate to Nora, who immediately picks a few things off it to eat. He sets the parcel aside and runs a hand through her curls. “How are you feeling?” he asks. She’d only gone into heat the night before. Bucky had woken to an empty bed, finding her tucked away beneath the servants’ stairs early the next morning. He takes in her appearance now. She’s dressed only in her underthings, her hair left loose around her shoulders. She looks flushed—certainly dazed from the heat—but still beautiful. Bucky always thinks she looks beautiful. Especially like this. He takes a few grapes from the plate and eats them, waiting for her to tell him how she feels.
“Not too far gone,” she says, pushing the plate his way when she feels she’s had enough. “Is there any hope he’ll be home soon?” she asks.
They both know that she’s referring to Steve—their alpha, headship to their marriage. The man who, under normal circumstances, would be the one to soothe Nora through her heat. Bucky hates to disappoint her but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry sweetheart. No. It’s just us this time.” She hums and squirms further into the nest of blankets she’s created, hands flitting restlessly over her neck, chest and belly. She doesn’t seem aware of what she’s doing, but Bucky knows that she needs to be touched. The smell of unfulfilled arousal coming off her is heady. “Here,” he says, scooting up to sit behind her. He pulls her against his chest and hands her the package. “This came in the mail today. Why don’t you open it?”
She does, her small fingers making quick work of the brown paper and twine. Once she has it unwrapped, she holds the item in her hand as if she’s no idea what to do with it. “Oh,” she nearly whispers. “Bucky, is this…?”
“Mmhm.” Bucky murmurs. He presses his lips to her neck. “Given that Steve’s unavailable this time around, I thought it prudent to acquire one.”
Nora laughs and the sound is light as a bell—beautiful. She’s not at all embarrassed about the fact that Bucky’s just presented her with a false knot, and it makes him love her all the more. His girl never was one to shy away from the intimacies of married life. With the toy still in hand she twists her head around and kisses him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me doll.” He encourages her to lift her hips up and eases the delicate fabric of her drawers down her thighs. She kicks them the rest of the way off and spreads her thighs in the blankets.
“Oh Bucky,” she sighs, leaning back into his chest as he begins to touch her between her legs. “Mm, yes. Please.”
He chuckles into her skin, chin hooked over her shoulder to watch the way his hand parts her folds. He’s holding her still against him with his metal arm and uses the other to stimulate her. She’s already wet. He coats his fingers in her slick and glides the pad of his thumb over the hood of her clit. She shudders hard in his arms and he holds her all the more tightly. “Shhh, there’s a girl. Feels good doesn’t it?”
She makes a soft noise in her throat. “Uh huh.” Bucky continues thumbing her clit and presses two fingers into her, curling and rubbing them against her walls. She tenses even further, hips chasing the movement of his hand. “Ooh, Bucky. Oh fuuck.”
“You close already sweetheart?” He asks in a low murmur, his smile against her skin. She obviously is. During her heats Nora comes much more easily, for both him and Steve. Bucky loves it. “Come on,” he encourages her, working his hand a little faster. “Come for me. Come for your beta.”
She shudders and the orgasm spills out of her, a sweet and sudden thing. When it’s over he turns her around and pulls them down into the blankets, allowing her to lay atop him and catch her breath. “So pretty when you do that,” he tells her, kissing her cheek. Her skin is flushed. She looks healthy and pleased and it stirs a possessive feeling in his chest, makes him want to satisfy all her needs. “I’m jealous of him sometimes,” he says quietly after a while.
She peeks up his chest at him, surprised. “Of… of Steve? Why?”
Bucky shrugs and pushes a stray tendril of hair away from her face. “He’s our alpha. He’s your alpha. Sometimes I want so badly to take care of you during a heat, want to be the one you really need. But I know he’s the only one who can give you that.”
“No. Bucky… I need you too.”
He smiles sadly at her. “Not in the same way though. I’ll never be able to knot you, feel your body tied to mine. My scent will never soothe your fever the way his can. My voice will never command you the way his does. I wish I could do that. Wish I could do more.”
“Oh, no Bucky please. Don’t feel that way.” She pushes herself further up his body and takes his face in her hands. “I don’t need another alpha. I don’t want one.” She leans down and kisses him firmly on the mouth. When she pulls back she says, “You’re my beta and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Steve and I, we both need you between us. You calm me better than he ever can, and lord knows you communicate better than he can. In a lot of ways you even understand me better than he ever can. Steve and I… we both find it easier to come to you first about anything. You know that. We’re both closer to you than we are to each other. You’re the one who makes this marriage work. You bring us together.” She pets at his hair, a smirk curving her lips. “And you know I depend on you to keep me sane now that we have Gabe. Steve wouldn’t know what to do. Bucky, you’re my beta. I will always need you.”
Bucky smiles up at her. His omega, his wife, his Nora. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She bumps their noses together. “And since you’re my beta, and our alpha isn’t anywhere to be found, I’m counting on you to push all. my. buttons.” She pokes her finger three times up his chest, ending at his collar and snapping her teeth at him playfully.
He grabs her by the hips and flips her over in a flash, making her shriek. He hovers over her and eyes her wickedly. “All of them, huh?" Nora giggles madly and he moves down to suck her breasts through the lace of her top. “Like this one?”
She moans. “Ooo, mm. Yeah that’s one.”
He grins. His fingers find the edge of her camisole and ease it up to bare her breasts. They’re large and swollen still from nursing, beautiful and flushed just like the rest of her. Bucky lays a kiss to each of them before urging her to lift her arms for him. He removes the scrap of fabric and she’s finally naked, bared fully to him. He groans appreciatively as he looks his fill. “You will never know how beautiful you are,” he tells her, reverence in his voice. “So goddamned beautiful.”
He runs his hands all over her, feeling the curves of her body beneath his. When he reaches the soft skin of her belly she tenses and her hands fly down to land on top of his. Bucky frowns at the reaction, recognizing it for what it is. Ever since the birth of their son Nora’s been self-conscious about her body, and he absolutely hates it. Gently but firmly, he removes her hands from covering herself and brings them up to press them into the blankets by her head. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Omega.” he tells her lowly. “If there’s something I don’t want to be looking at I’ll let you know.” He moves back down with a purpose, gripping her hips harsher than before and kissing down the soft swell of her stomach. “Love your body Nor,” he says between kisses. “It gave us our son. It’s beautiful. Perfect. You’re such a beautiful mother.” If he could let her into his mind he would, to let her see what he sees.
Nora whimpers, obviously wanting to argue that point but unwilling to ignore Bucky’s command. She merely tosses her head in the blankets, muttering some complaint about how she can’t lace down within six inches of what she used to. Bucky rolls his eyes and continues kissing down her body. He’s almost got his mouth where it needs to be to get his wife to shut up about how well her stupid corsets fit.
The first flick of his tongue against her clit makes her cry out, hips rising instinctively. Bucky holds her down and moves in again, this time licking all along the cleft of her sex. She’s so incredibly wet, so eager for him. Her slick gets on his face and he chases it, fucking his tongue into her cunt slowly, pushing in as far as he can and listening to her pleasured groans from above. When he switches to sucking gentle pressure against her clit and pushes his fingers into her, her hands shoot down and grab onto his hair. Bucky grunts at the sting and keeps going. “Don’t stop!” she gasps, using her hold on his hair to keep him right where he is. “Oh please, Bucky! M’gonna come.” Her hips are moving in little circles, rubbing herself hard against his mouth and hands. Bucky hums against her, his way of telling her to get herself off. When she comes, her breath catches and she doesn’t make a sound again until she’s coming back down, her body going lax in the blankets. “Ohmygod,” she huffs, overwhelmed. “Oh my fucking god.”
Bucky chuckles at her dirty mouth. He pushes himself up and yanks his nightshirt over his head, abandoning it somewhere in the pillows. He crawls over her and blankets her with his naked heat, waiting patiently for her pretty brown eyes to open. When she’s looking at him again he gives her a kiss that tastes of her own juices. “Love making you feel good.” He rocks his hips gently against her, his erection a heavy weight along the crease of her thigh. “You want me inside of you?” he asks.
“Yes,” Nora breathes excitedly, her scent rising again even though she’s just come down from her second orgasm. She lifts her legs to wrap them around Bucky’s waist, pulling him nearer to her center. “Take me,” she sighs into Bucky’s ear, knowing exactly what words like that do to him.
Bucky shudders out his next breath in the effort to control himself. He could plunge inside and take her, rough and fast. God, that’s what he wants when he has her like this—soft and pliant and mewling underneath him, and heaven knows her body would accommodate him. Her slick cunt would part for him and swallow him without resistance. He could take her furiously and without care, satisfy that base animal need that he always has when Nora is near. Bucky’s mouth waters at the thought, but he grits his teeth and refuses it. That’s not what they’re here for. They’re here for Nora, his mate. Carding his fingers through her hair, he uses his metal hand to line himself up with her. She gasps and her pupils widen, and Bucky smirks. He drags his cockhead up and down her slit a few times, gathering her slick onto himself and teasing them both. When Nora’s hips give an impatient little thrust upwards, however, he loses the last of his control and presses into her in a hot, needy slide.
“Oh, Bucky.” Her hands find his back, running up and down the muscles there without coordination. Beneath, her hips are moving in steady, needy little thrusts, just barely moving his cock inside her and bumping her clit against his pubic bone. “Please,” she begs, voice reedy and light. “Please move Bucky. Fuck me.”
She sounds desperate and it’s music to Bucky’s ears. He growls lowly and holds her by her wrists again, pressing them into the blankets as he starts to move. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” he murmurs as he fucks into her. “Gonna give it to you good.” Nora moans filthily at his talk and presses harder against his thrusts, moving with him as the blankets tangle around them and everything becomes sensation and sweat, hot breath and pleasured grunts passed between them.
Nora’s soft sounds grow into cries of pleasure—sharper and louder—until she’s arching up hard against him, fingernails painful against the skin of his back and her cunt grasping him in rhythmic pulls as she climaxes. “Holy—” Bucky cuts himself off as she trembles and collapses. He forces himself to breathe slow with her and to not come. Not yet. He knows his wife well, has spent more than a few heats with her and knows from experience that she’ll want to be fucked through at least one more orgasm before being knotted. Normally it’s Steve doing the knotting and at least half of the fucking, but this time Bucky will have to be the one to give her both. He’s not complaining. He can exercise a bit of self-control if it means he gets to watch her come apart so sweetly.
Nora’s chest rises and falls as she catches her breath. Her breasts are pressing up against him—two beautifully flushed swells just begging to be abused. Bucky can’t help himself; he sinks down to press his face into them, cupping them with his hands and sucking mouthfuls of the soft skin. He nips her once or twice, hoping that little bruises will form there. He thinks about Steve coming home and seeing the marks and realizing what he’s missed out on, and the thought puts a wicked smirk on Bucky’s face. His headship is also possessive of Nora—even more so than Bucky himself is. He can only imagine the tussle he and his husband might get into over their shared omega. Perhaps Steve will take him roughly, perhaps while Nora’s off in the nursery napping with the baby. Perhaps he’ll throw Bucky on the bed and push him face-down and reassert his rights as headship and… Bucky grunts in pleasure at the thought. It excites him, has him sucking harsher than he needs to at Nora’s nipples. She cries out and pushes against him and the tiniest bit of breastmilk leaks into Bucky’s mouth. He pulls back, taken-aback and frankly surprised at the sweet taste. His expression must be odd because Nora giggles at him.
He raises his eyebrow. “You laughing at me, doll?”
Nora bites her lip, nodding through her smirk. She looks wonderful, complexion rosy and flushed from her pleasure. Bucky is still hard as a rock and ready to give her more. Grinning down at her, he grabs her hips and flips her over onto her front, yanking her bum up and pressing himself inside her with no warning. Nora whimpers, the sudden intrusion making her scent soar. Bucky rumbles his approval of that from somewhere deep in his throat. He thrusts into her once, twice, rocking their bodies roughly to show her that he means to take her well and good this time. “That’s it omega,” he praises, running a hand down the center of her back. “So good for me. Gonna get you to come again.”
Nora groans pitifully at this, as if another climax will be some sort of hardship. But Bucky just moves his hips and shushes her with gentle words: Shhh, none of that angel, you know it’ll feel so good. Thrust. Want to watch you come apart. Thrust. Wanna hear it, wanna feel it. Thrust. He takes her steady and sweet, angling himself to rub inside her in the way he knows gets her off. Nora’s breath chokes off a little and her hands claw viciously in the blankets, and that’s how Bucky knows that she’s close. He is too, but he wants to make her fall apart first. He hunches over her, slips a hand around to rub fingers against her clit. “There you go,” he whispers against her skin. He kisses her shoulder blade and enjoys the increasingly loud cries that she gives him. Oh, he thinks, she is so close. “Come on,” he urges her, mimicking the controlling tone of Steve’s alpha voice. “I know you’re close baby. Let it go. Give it up to me.” Then, without warning, he gets his mouth on the back of her neck and bites down.
Nora goes absolutely rigid. “Ahhh!” Her cry is loud and long, dissolving into a desperate keen that makes Bucky’s toes curl in want. “Oooh fffuck,” she groans after long seconds pass. She goes boneless on the blankets, Bucky’s hands at her hips the only thing holding her up.
He watches her, completely mesmerized by the sight of his omega getting off so hard. Her pussy is still clenching down on him rhythmically. Once she’s clearly come down from it, he starts fucking her with a purpose. She squeaks at the sudden change in pace, but pretty soon her arousal is spiking again, and she starts encouraging him with pretty moans that fill up Bucky’s ears and urge him on. “So eager baby, you want to go again?” Nora sobs but it’s an affirmative sound—his girl wants more. “Don’t worry doll,” he grunts, hips moving furiously. “I know what you need. Gonna give you a knot.” Nora whimpers at this. “But you gotta make me come first,” he tells her. “Gonna get my load in you. Gonna fill you up so good.”
Nora cries out, whimpering, “Bucky, yes,” into the blankets. “Mm, want it. Please.” She’s fucking back against him with every thrust, eager and pliant. “Breed me,” she begs.
That’s it, that’s what puts him right there. With utterly possessive thoughts of fucking his mate so good and deep that he puts a litter in her running through his mind, Bucky feels his balls draw up tight. “Fuck,” he hisses, babbling at her in the way he often does when he’s this worked up: So close baby. Yeah, just like that. Fuck back on me, Fucking… Yesss. Oh, ugh, gonna make me come Nor. Oh! He comes, body spasming as he releases into her with uncoordinated thrusts. His fingers are holding her tighter than ever, and as he comes down from the high he realizes that she’ll likely have bruises from it. It’s hard for him to bring himself to care.
They collapse to their sides, Bucky bringing her back to spoon against his body. For a moment or two there’s no sound but that of their harsh breathing. Bucky feels her relax but can smell her scent ramping up again. Her body tries to clench down on him but he’s gone soft and he slides out. Nora whimpers, displeased at having nothing inside of her. “Shhh,” he soothes, reaching around blindly until he finds the knot. He knees her legs apart and brings it to her sex, rubbing the toy over her soaked lips to get it wet.
After a moment too long of this Nora growls at him, “Give it!”
But Bucky just uses his free hand to grab her by the back of her neck and force her face down into the blankets. “Be still,” he hisses, rubbing the knot more insistently until he feels her body start to part for it. “You’re going to get it.”
She whimpers and whines as he forces the knot in, filling her up the way that he knows she’s been craving since she opened that package and saw what was inside. Bucky inflates the toy to make it grow bigger inside her. Nora wails, thrashing without a thought, but it’s fine because she has Bucky there to hold her down, and he does. When the knot’s fully blown he abandons it to the clasp of her body and practically blankets her with himself. She’s trembling from the sensation of being filled so completely, and even though he’s spent, Bucky does her the favor of moving his hips against her to add to the illusion that she’s still being fucked. He soaks up her pleasured cries, imagining how good this must feel to her.
“Bucky,” she whines, still wiggling beneath his hold. “Beta. Help me.”
Bucky slips his metal hand around her body and presses his palm above her clit, rubbing down firmly enough that he knows it’s bound to set her off. It does, and she sobs yet again as her orgasm crashes over her. Bucky holds her through it, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and petting her sweaty skin. He has no indication that her body’s locked onto the knot other than the fact that it doesn’t slip out of her. It won’t for a good while, he knows. If it were Steve here now they’d be stuck, tied together until the knot went down and Nora’s body let up, and Bucky would be responsible to take care of them. Usually that just amounts to getting one or both of them water to drink, but he’s glad for now to stay laying behind Nora, simply comforting her as she calms down.
After long moments she quiets completely, and Bucky assumes she’s asleep. So it comes as a bit of a surprise when she suddenly says, “See if the servants left towels?” He untangles himself from her and crawls to the door. Sure enough, just outside is a bowl of steaming towels. He pulls it inside and shuts the door. Nora smiles sleepily when she sees the bowl. “Yesss,” she purrs, and Bucky laughs.
“Here you go.” He unrolls one of the dampened towels, patting it between his hands until it’s not quite so hot, then brings it to her body and drapes it over her shoulder blades. She moans as if he’s done something particularly erotic to her, and he chuckles again. He takes another towel and begins wiping all over her skin. “Feel good?” he asks.
“Mmhm.” She’s purring contentedly, and he takes a moment to admire her—his sated omega. The sight of her like this makes something warm and happy settle in his chest. It’s love, that much he knows already, but it’s also satisfaction at having given her everything she needs. At having taken care of her.
When he’s gotten her cleaned he lays down again and pulls one of the blankets over them, arms wrapped around her middle until she’s ready to move. It’s as they’re lying there together, tucked away in their quiet corner of the house, that she whispers to him, “Um, what I said about you breeding me… I—”
Bucky shushes her, not wanting her to worry about what she’d said in the heat of the moment. “Don’t worry doll, I know we can’t yet.” Her heats may have returned, but both he and Steve know that she won’t be fertile again until she’s done breastfeeding with Gabe. They’ve got awhile yet to go with that, and even if they didn’t, Bucky knows he wouldn’t pressure his mate into having another baby so soon. Satisfying her through this heat had been simply that—satisfying it. But he has fantasized about knocking her up again. Ever since Gabe was born and it became clear that Steve was the father, he’s known that he wants to have one of his own with her. Bucky is grateful that he has a husband who will allow such a thing—many more conservative headships would not. He tells Nora, “I know you were just getting carried away with yourself, you know?”
“Mm,” she hums, snuggling back against him. “But what if I really wanted to?”
“What do you mean?” He tucks some of her messy hair out of the way and kisses her ear. “You want to have another baby?”
“Yeah,” she says. “…Um, and I want to… with you.”
Bucky’s heart leaps, and he holds her that much closer. “Yeah? Want to try with me next?”
Nora nods and turns in his arms so that she can face him. Her brown eyes are huge and beautiful. “I want that so much Bucky. Want to make a baby with you.” She leans in and presses her mouth to his, kissing him tenderly. Bucky groans into it, not so much at the kiss but at her words. When she pulls back she says, “So can we?”
He laughs. As if she even has to ask. “Of course,” he says. “If it’s what you want.” She nods again in encouragement. “But you know,” he says, “My, uh, seed is less likely to … I mean if we do try it’s far more likely that Steve’ll be the one to—”
She cuts him off with another kiss and a sly look when she pulls back. “Well then we’ll just have to kick him out of our bed, won’t we? Make him watch for a few months until you knock me up.”
Bucky laughs, amused by how she makes that sound like some sort of fun game. “Okay Nor, sounds like a good plan. You can be the one to tell Steve that that’s what we’re doing.”
She grunts, but doesn’t seem like she’s changed her mind. “Just you wait,” she says, pausing to give a long yawn. “I��ll tell ‘im.” They settle back down, both with thoughts of a growing family running through their minds. Bucky pets Nora’s side as she falls asleep and imagines another baby up there in the nursery with a toddler-aged Gabe. He imagines what the little versions of he and Steve would look like, running around and playing together. The idea makes him feel warm and happy inside. He decides that he really will have to have a talk with Steve when he returns, because having his alpha and his omega and a house full of children really doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea. In fact, it seems like the best one.
Masterlist
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#m/f/m#polyamory#husband wife#Bucky x ofc#Bucky x reader#Bucky x you#mcu#marvel#fanfiction#edwardian#victorian#period au#history au#arranged marriage#gilded age#edwardian era#victorian era#corsets#a/b/o#worldbuilding#stucky#steve x bucky#steve rogers#bucky barnes#original character#steve rogers x ofc x bucky barnes#historical fiction#heat#in heat#pregnancy
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SteveTony Weekly - October 1st
Welcome back, and welcome to spooky season! Here’s what I read last week. I’m thinking I might start adding some of my notes/thoughts to the list--what do we think?
***Marks my recent favorites
~*~
Ser Sellsword and his Prince Troubadour by Areiton
“And you, my love? What would you do, in this life of freedom you dream for us?”
“A sellsword needs a bard, doesn’t he?” Tony says and grins when Steve laughs.
***Don't Blame Me by iam93percentstardust
Don't blame me, love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, my drug is my baby
I'll be usin' for the rest of my life
~
There’s a boy dancing in Steve’s club.
He catches Steve’s eye immediately—how could he miss him with that golden glitter dusting his cheeks and arms and bare stomach catching the light? He’s pretty, the boy is, long legs and sex-tousled hair and plush ass that Steve wants to grab. He glances up at the upper floor, where Steve holds court when he’s here, a slow, wicked smirk spreading across his red, red lips, eyes gleaming with interest and an invitation both. Steve shifts, spreading his legs further apart so the boy can catch a glimpse, limited as it is from the floor, of the bulge in his black slacks.
The boy’s mouth parts, and he runs his hands up his stomach and over his chest, ending at his nipples, and Steve just knows that he’s plucking at the metal rings in them—pure gold, of course. Steve wouldn’t buy anything less for the boy—his boy.
All Better by FestiveFerret, SirSapling
The first time it happened, Steve almost clocked Tony in the face.
Boss Man by BlossomsintheMist
Tony starts calling Steve "boss," and Steve has all sorts of feelings about it. It ends up coming up in bed. The results open up some new areas in their sexual relationship, and maybe reveal a few things about Tony, and how he feels about Steve.
i am wide eyed with a penchant for running by theappleppielifestyle
Steve compliments him on his arms. On his craftsmanship. On his jokes. He makes the rare innuendo that get the whole team snickering after Steve leaves the room. He tells Tony he values Tony in the team, and as a person, and as a friend. He looks at Tony with big blue eyes and an easy smile that comes far too rarely.
Tony has no goddamn idea what to do with all this affection. He also has no idea how to respond to it.
hooked on you by theappleppielifestyle
"I’m sorry," Steve says miserably, but Tony holds up a hand.
"Whoa, hey, no, not your fault, kid. Um." Tony drops the hand, because Steve had started looking at his wrist, the mapwork of veins. "So what, it’s like, you open your eyes first thing after getting vamped and, boom, Imprint?"
"What?" Steve frowns again. "Tony, no. I’m not a baby duck."
Apartment 5A by toraten
An AU in which Steve Rogers edits comic books and Tony Stark is Tony Stark.
Namesake by missbecky
An innocent question leads Steve to look up Edwin Jarvis, the former Stark family butler who gave JARVIS his name, and bring him back to New York to see Tony one last time.
Sexypants by 51stCenturyFox
He doesn’t think he’d run across this person before, but he...is so arrestingly pretty that Steve feels his breath catch, and Stark’s by his side again, nudging his shoulder.
“Oh hey, my hooker pants!” he says, and Steve blinks.
Sleep Protocol by 51stCenturyFox
You might assume that Steve Rogers, a super soldier, wouldn’t have any sleep-related problems, since he is an optimal physical specimen in the bloom of health.
You would be wrong.
But you know, there are certain conditions.
Fake Dating is Worth it for the Cake by Heartithateyou
Tony convinces Steve to pretend to be his fiancee for the wedding cake samples.
Of course it doesn't end the way he thinks it will.
The Love Song of a Pair of Awkward Weirdos by MusicalLuna
Tony flirts with Steve and then the strangest possible thing happens:
Steve starts to flirt back.
All of My Love is For You by blue_jack
The thing is, Tony totally knows that Steve’s interested.
Burn by orbingarrow
When Steve Rogers burns his dinner and sets off the sprinklers in the ROTC building, Tony Stark saves the day. Except this Tony Stark isn't the famous son of a billionaire, he's just a college Freshman on night maintenance for Work Study.
Or is he?
Featuring Phantom of the Opera references, a Human Centipede of office equipment, and lots and lots of fluff!
One-shot giftfic written for the SteveTonyFest!
Cold Making Warmth by sheafrotherdon
Steve settles upon the few things he knows for sure: that the days are short, and it's cold, and he doesn't mind looking dumb for making the effort. So screw the protocol, whether it exists or not – he's giving gifts.
For America by autoschediastic
"Tony, for the good of the country, we should get married."
Who's Scruffy Looking? by JenTheSweetie
“I don’t know,” Steve said, after Tony finished a six-minute ode to The Dude’s beard. “I mean, I’m not really a fan of beards.”
Tony gave Steve a look of such horror that Steve almost wondered if he’d misspoken and casually mentioned that he’d been tossing puppies off the top floor of Stark Tower.
“You’re not,” he said, “a fan of beards? I mean – but you like my beard.”
Steve tilted his head. “Uh. No, not really a fan of yours, either.”
Truths, Lies and the Tipping Point by BlackEyedGirl
The news report seems more interested in the argument between the team during the fight than the way they eventually won. And then it gets worse.
Pillow Talk by FestiveFerret
It took Steve a while to realize how often it happened. How many missions or adventures ended with them forced to take refuge for the night in one bed. Sometimes, it was a luxurious king in a fancy hotel room. Sometimes, it was a tiny pup tent in the middle of the woods.
But he and Tony always seemed to end up sharing.
The Trial Run by Annie D (scaramouche)
Tony and Steve pretend to date, and enjoy it far more than they should.
***Slipping off the Page into Your Hands by Sineala
Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve's problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony's problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.
Before I Knew You by somanyfeels (orphan_account)
When Steve came out of the ice, he was stuck in a bed for weeks, unable to move and talk and everyone around him assumed he was unconscious. But he wasn't, he was perfectly aware of everything going on around him, he heard everything the people around him said and very little of it made sense. Until a man came into his room by mistake and kept coming back to visit.
Admiring the Scenery by Annie D (scaramouche)
Steve’s used to people checking him out, but when Tony does it, it feels… different.
***Tabula Rasa by Sineala
Sometimes superheroes save the world. And sometimes they're too late.
Captain America's longtime villain Superia had a plan for revenge. She stopped the Avengers from ever finding Steve in the ice, tore the Avengers apart, and turned the world into her own personal authoritarian dystopia. A team made up of Captains America from across the multiverse came to set things right: they united all the remaining superheroes, took down Superia, and made sure the world would find Steve again.
Tony spent Superia's hellish reign as her prisoner, a suicidally-depressed disembodied brain trapped in a jar for years on end, begging the Avengers to kill him and put him out of his misery. The Captain America Corps instead gives him his freedom, a brand-new body, and even the Avengers -- including his very own Captain America. But Tony's not entirely sure he wants to be here. He's walking wounded, and he thinks some wounds are too deep to heal. He thinks there's no chance the Avengers will ever be what they could have been. He thinks there's no way Steve will ever be the friend and partner he could have been on so many other worlds.
Luckily for Tony, Steve happens to disagree with that.
#stevetony#stevetony weekly#stevetony fic rec#fic rec#rec list#stony#steve rogers#tony stark#iron man#captain america
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Hello! Can I get a Sam Wilson using his badass parescue skills to patch up Bucky after a mission gone wrong? Thank you!
Heyyy! Thank you for choosing the whump drive-thru! Enjoy!
Stitches for a Deeper Wound
Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, mentioned Steve Rogers and mentioned original unnamed villain. Characters are property of Marvel and not me; otherwise, I'd be pretty damn rich. Words: 1.2 k
TW: Blood, gunshot wound, death mentions, general angst, stitches, pain
Saying the mission had gone wrong was a gross understatement.
Sam Wilson was not exactly the most optimistic person around. And with an operation as risky as this one, there were at least a million and one unpleasant outcomes plaguing his thoughts, but none of them could even so much as hold a candle to this.
Aside from the fact that a highly dangerous crime lord who was running illegal experiments on humans and was wanted by every country and their mother had just escaped their clutches and seemingly disappeared into thin air, Bucky was down, and he’d called Sam for help.
He’d called him for help.
Bucky was the very definition of the word stubborn. Requesting assistance had never really been his cup of tea, only something he’d do out of dire necessity, and in better circumstances, help meant backup. And this wasn’t it. He had a nasty habit of toughing out his injuries, but he could mostly handle himself.
But when Sam heard that horribly ragged breathing, the weak, desperate “Help,” over his communicator, he’d feared that his worst nightmares were coming to life. Bucky may have been a pain, but Sam couldn’t lose him.
That kind of suffering was one he could only survive once, and even then it left scars that even eons of time could not hope to heal.
Thankfully, Bucky wasn’t too far away, and Sam spotted a dark figure lying by a tree. . .with a pool of crimson around him, his uneven breaths seeming to get shallower by the moment.
“Bucky!” he whispered curtly, rushing over to his fallen teammate. “Don’t you dare die on me, you bastard,” he snarled, trying to hide the concern in his voice that Bucky easily discerned, flashing him a weak smile on bloodied teeth.
If he wasn’t grievously injured, Sam would have at least tried to strangle him.
“How’d he do this to you?” he asked. It wasn’t such a common occurrence that someone could beat a supersoldier, and their enemy, while formidable, didn’t possess any superpowers or extremely powerful gadgets.
“He drugged me. The experiments he’s running, they’re insane,” he rasped out, wincing slightly as his chest rose and fell with his ragged breathing.
“He shot you, but the bullet went straight through,” Sam attested, reaching into his backpack for anything that could help. There was a gaping hole near Bucky’s heart, but not quite at it, which was good, except the bleeding was crazy, the skin around it red and angry, muscle pierced through and torn. Sam needed to get the wound clean, having to pour some of the faint-scented cologne that he’d brought for no reason as disinfectant and a piece of his already tattered shirt as a rag.
No matter how badly he wanted to tough it out, Bucky couldn’t hide the sharp hiss that escaped his lips.
“Hold still,” Sam commanded through gritted teeth, applying pressure on the wound.
He couldn’t exactly make out what his friend and absolute royal pain was saying because his weak, tormented voice was barely above a whisper, but he knew it was a swear. Definitely meant for him, but he currently didn’t have enough brain power to reply or even be slightly offended.
He pulled out a needle and thread, thanking God a hundred times over that he’d remembered, in the haste they were in, rushing to leave, unsure they’d packed exactly everything.
“What the hell were you thinking, Bucky? Going after this nutcase alone, and you knew full-well how dangerous he was. You should’ve called for backup! Is that so hard to understand?” Sam cried, exasperated, stitching up the other man’s wound.
“Well, I didn't die. How the hell was I supposed to know he had that stupid drug? And you know I always catch bastards like him. And me getting hurt is a goddamn occupational hazard. I let him think I was dead, anyway. This isn’t the first time I get shot, Wilson. And if I had the necessary materials with me right then, I wouldn’t have even asked you to show up,” he retorted.
Raising an irritated brow at Bucky, Sam continued stitching the wound. “Listen up. You asked for my help, even being the stubborn bastard that you are, you still did. Which means you knew you screwed up. And he got away. All because you wanted to prove something stupid to yourself,” he seethed, eyes now slits and his tone dangerously calm. Oh, he was pissed at Bucky, and he was going to let the idiot know.
“I’m entitled to my own decisions. You’re not my mum, Steve!”
At that, Sam’s eyes went wide, and for a brief moment, guilt flashed across Bucky’s features. He mentally cursed himself for being so impulsive, saying the first thing that came to his mind without thinking.
“D-don’t call me that,” Sam snapped, finally done with his stitches.
“I - I’m sorry,” he stated, trying his hardest to sound sincere, to let down the wall of emotionlessness he’d been forcing himself to hold up for years, or whatever it was his therapist said he should do. Sure, Sam’s worrying and mother-henning was irritating on a good day, but he cared, he was Bucky’s best friend, his brother, and he was right. He’d asked him for help, relied on him. This was supposed to be a team effort. But deep down, he really didn’t want Sam to get hurt. It was part of the reason he’d make sure to go after the criminal alone. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Sam’s diamond-hard gaze softened. “It’s alright. Just don’t pull any of that crap again, good? Or I swear, I will give you a reason to be sorry.”
“Deal. Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but he helped him up, shaking his hand, and then he didn’t even register how or when Bucky had hugged him. It was for an extremely short amount of time, but still, Bucky wasn’t really a hugger, unless you were a stray cat, which he most definitely was not.
Still, it meant that the ice was melting just a little bit. That their disastrous team-up was finally starting to work out.
They went back to their current shared residence, a small apartment in a quieter part of the city, so that they could come up with a better plan with more efficient execution. They still weren’t sure exactly where to start, but something told them both that they’d catch this bastard, one way or another.
He gets on your nerves without trying. He finds a way to disagree with everything you say. It feels like you’ve been arguing with him from the beginning of time. But he is your best friend, your brother, your family, the kind that teaches you that blood never mattered in the grand scheme of things, more about a fate you do not choose, simply a circumstance. So you bear whatever it is he does because you know just how far he is willing to go with you, the precarious road he’s willing to tread. You trust him with your life more than you do yourself. And if anything were to happen to him, you’d be truly lost. A friend you live, die and kill for, without hesitation.
♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧
This fresh whumpy meal has been prepared by Natalia.
#whumpdrivethru#hurt/comfort#sam wilson#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#captain america#mcu fanfiction#blood tw#death mention tw#angst#whump#gunshot tw#whump community#marvel#Natalia#nat's writing
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when you came in, the air went out: chapter 5
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo
Summary: Bucky, newly eighteen and at risk of being homeless and starving during the cold spring, makes a gamble trusting his shady boss and auctioning off one night of his life for enough money to survive.
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Alternate Universe - Mob, mafia boss zemo, Young Bucky Barnes, Older Man/Younger Man, Poor Life Choices, Human Trafficking, bucky trafficks himself really, Auction, Non-Consensual Drug Use, not between bucky and zemo, Slow Burn, Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Masturbation, minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Dubious Consent, First Time, totally realistic legal procedures, Marriage of Convenience, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Tender Sex, Happy Ending
Links:
Chapter 5 (4619 words)
Full fic (37k)
Excerpt:
The dust has settled over the past two weeks, and the news is shifting to more speculative than reactive. This article covers the frustration of the feds when the Skorpions slipped out of their fingers yet again thanks to Bucky. It’d been an iron-clad case, until Bucky had taken it down. The media had reveled in the shocking reveal that the star witness had somehow secretly married the notorious crime lord right under their noses. Depending who’s writing, it’s either reprehensible, naive, or maybe nearly romantic. Bucky doesn’t know what it is either. Stupid, certainly.
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Don't Blame Me
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by iam93percentstardust
Don't blame me, love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, my drug is my baby
I'll be usin' for the rest of my life
~
There’s a boy dancing in Steve’s club.
He catches Steve’s eye immediately—how could he miss him with that golden glitter dusting his cheeks and arms and bare stomach catching the light? He’s pretty, the boy is, long legs and sex-tousled hair and plush ass that Steve wants to grab. He glances up at the upper floor, where Steve holds court when he’s here, a slow, wicked smirk spreading across his red, red lips, eyes gleaming with interest and an invitation both. Steve shifts, spreading his legs further apart so the boy can catch a glimpse, limited as it is from the floor, of the bulge in his black slacks.
The boy’s mouth parts, and he runs his hands up his stomach and over his chest, ending at his nipples, and Steve just knows that he’s plucking at the metal rings in them—pure gold, of course. Steve wouldn’t buy anything less for the boy—his boy.
Words: 2229, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 56 of Tumblr Prompts, Part 5 of Alle's Version
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Mob Boss Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Mob, Age Difference, Twink Tony Stark, Public Sex, Frottage, Tony Stark is a brat, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Tony Stark, but they're soft for each other, Established Relationship, Possessive Steve Rogers, Tony is here to cause problems on purpose
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Your Mark On Me, Part 9
Summary: you're losing your grip
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, pinching, oral sex (F and M receiving), face riding, pussy job, creampie (?), mentions of forced tattoo, mentions of branding, D/s dynamics, teasing, exhibition, spanking, pearl play, dry humping, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 6.8K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*Chris tattoo edit by @nixakimbo
*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics
You give a small moan as the most beautiful sight plays in your subconscious mind. Moaning out loud. Your dream Steve was being so soft, and you hadn’t realized it was something you craved. His lips kissing over your body, and you hate how hard and long holding out on him was going to be. Whimpering out his name, and hoping you never had to wake up.
His touch becomes more harsh, “Steve,” you whine, wishing he would go back to his softer smoother motions. It was too early, and you didn’t want that kind touch.
“Steve! Ow!” Screaming out loud. You wake up to him pinching both your nipples in a vice grip. “What the hell?” You scream as you sit up in bed. Smacking at both his hands until he removes them from your throbbing tits. “That hurt!”
“Unless you let me fuck you, you cannot be making all that fucking noise in your goddamn sleep! Fuck, Dovey. I’m fucking hard again. Can you not suck my cock?”
“No! You,” you look down at your chest, and rub on your bruising tits. “You pinched me!”
“And your naked ass was rubbing on my cock, while you were making those fucking noises. Dove, I can’t stand this. Let me fuck you!”
“No.”
“Please. Dovey, baby, please let your Captain fuck you.”
“Do I have your heart?” You ask, cocking up your eyebrow. Steve’s face tenses up, and you can’t help but smirk. He was avoiding answering. “Then no,” you turn away from him, and lay back down. You are going to go back to sleep, and enjoy the softer him.
“Fucking hell, Dovey. This isn’t even fair!”
“You branded my neck without my consent. Now you can wait on my cunt with my consent,” Steve growls, jumping out of the bed, and starts stomping to the bathroom. “Where are you going?”
“To fuck my fist again!”
“Steve!”
“No!” He spins on his heels, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare use your whiney voice. I can’t stand this. I can’t function properly. Because your fine ass sleeps in the bed every fucking night naked. And then I wake up to you doing that thing with your ass on me, and making those fucking noises, and it isn’t fair. Fine, I branded you, so brand me.”
You stare at him, your eyes unblinking, but shake your head no. “Fuck yes. Brand me, and then you’ll get over this bullshit.”
“You think this is the only thing I’m pissed off about?”
“Well, goddammit, Dove, you sure the fuck like to bring it up all the fucking time!”
“You didn’t give me a fucking choice, Steven. You held me down while I begged you not to do it. So…”
“I’ll let you do it,” wrapping your arms around you, your eyes start to well up with tears. He didn’t get it. “Yes, baby, I’ll let you choose the method, and what you want. I know I’m tattooed pretty much everywhere, but — fuck,” he whispers, moving closer to you, and wrapping you in a tight embrace.
“Dovey, baby, please. I want us to move past this. Just tell me what it is I need to do, and I will do it.”
“You will do anything just to fuck me though.”
“I’ll do anything to make you mine. Whatever you want,” he is damn near pouting like a child. Begging for anything that would make you give up the one thing that was keeping you in control.
“I want you to give me your…”
“I can’t, so don’t ask me. I want to protect you. I want for you to be my queen, but you won’t let me,” sniffling, you lean back, and stare into his crystal blue eyes. You heard him, but aren’t sure if you believe him.
“But you keep me here in this cabin, or at school.”
Gulping, Steve nods his head. His hands, caress your back, and you finally slow down enough to feel his massive and hard cock, pressing into your stomach. “It’s done. Whatever. And I still want you to brand me.”
“Steve?” He hums, acknowledging you, and a sinful smile pulls up your mouth. “I want to try something.”
“Whatever you want, Dovey.”
“Take off your underwear and lay on the bed,” his tongue swipes over his lips before he brings his bottom lip into his mouth. Biting on the puffy pillow, “Please? Or we could watch each other get off.”
“As hot as that sounds, I am curious what you have in mind,” his arms drop from around your body, and he steps back. Letting your eyes wander over his chiseled and decorated body before he pulls down his boxers. His angry cock bounces up, and you stare at the beads of precum leaking down his member. Coating his piercing, and you sigh knowing that cock is yours.
“Hey, Clarence,” you giggle, nodding to the bed.
“I really hate the name you gave him.”
“Clarence is my friend. Aren’t you buddy?”
“Until Clarence destroys you for other men,” like you are ever going to know. If Steve has it his way he is going to murder anyone that so much as looks at you like they want to fuck you. If he could read minds, he’d kill any man that dared to have an illicit thought about you.
“Steve, get on the damn bed,” rolling his eyes, he clamors onto the mattress, stretching his arms over his head as he watches your naked body. “I saw this on a video once.”
“Porn is not real sex, Dovey.”
“And we’re not having sex. Shut up, and lay there,” you crawl onto the bed with him, and look down at his monstrous dick. You still aren’t sure where the hell he was going to fit that. “You can look, but not touch right now, okay?”
“You’re killing me.”
“Okay?”
“Fine,” Slinging your leg over his body, you start kissing up his dick. Giving him a clear view of your glistening folds before flattening your tongue, and licking up the thick vein. “Fuck me,” he groans when you flick your tongue over his slit. Moaning at his salty flavor.
“Yeah, like that, baby,” it is almost a whine as you suck over his spongy tip. “Take it all,” you respond by wiggling your ass, and he wants to foam at the mouth. “Can I spread you apart?”
“What?” Lifting off him, you peek around your ass. He is staring at your cunt like a kid in a candy store. Ready to devour every bit of your honey.
“I won’t touch, I just want to stare at the face of God just a bit better.”
“Don’t put your finger inside of me, and I’ll let you spread me open, Captain. But I’m also just getting started.”
“Fine. Ahh!” He yelps when you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, and slap Clarence over your lips. His thick mitts grab each globe of your ass, and split you open. Letting his fingers drift lower, and he pulls apart your pussy lips. Moaning when you clench around nothing. Your arousal is getting so sticky and sweet, and all he wants is a little taste. Just a tiny bit, but he wants to know all you have planned.
Your little bean needs to be flicked, and your tight hole needs to be filled, but the way you are sucking on his dick was enough for him to come undone. “Don’t come unless I tell you, too,” you tease, looking back at him. Waiting on him to look at your sly little grin before swallowing him whole.
“You’re such a brat,” if he wanted to see a brat, you would show him one. Quickly you sit up, and drop yourself right onto his face. Grinding over his mouth, and let him slurp up your juices. Your hands press down into the mattress as you ride his face. My goodness, he is good. You could come right now. Letting his lips circle around your clit as he sucks on the pearl.
You’re gonna come. But you won’t let him enjoy cleaning up your honey. “Yeah. Captain!” He loves hearing your sweet voice call him that. His cock is throbbing at getting you off. Bringing up your hands to your tits, you give your nipples some stimulation as you let Steve work you over.
“So good, Captain. Right there. Yeah. Fuck yeah,” he swats at your ass, and you moan even louder. “Fuck, Captain,” another slap. “So fucking good! Ahh!” Screaming at your release as Steve smacks you again, you lean back down, and bob a few times on his cock.
“Oh, come on!” He shouts, having to stare up your petals soaked in your cream. Your sticky slick coats your thighs, and you need to be properly cleaned, “Dovey!”
“Enjoy looking at your brat, Captain,” he licks your remaining slick on his lips. Mesmerized at how pretty your pussy looks. Knowing how much better it will look, gaping, swollen, and coated in his cum. The messier your cunt looked the better. He was going to have to get a camera to record him destroying you. Owning you. Filling you up with his essence.
“Okay,” you chirp, sitting up, you turn to look at him.
“Now, that’s a bunch of horse shit. You better fucking finish the job. If you come, I better come.”
“I’m still not finished, Captain,” you promise so sweetly as your other leg swings over him. “I want Clarence to feel me,” holding the base of his cock, you sink down until you feel the cool metal from his piercing at your entrance. Rubbing his tip through your folds, and tempted to just push it through your hole. Holding it right there.
“I’ll let you do it, but I wouldn’t advise letting gravity have its way with you. What’re you doing, baby? Is this what you saw in the — holy fuck,” he whines as you lay him flat, and you settle your weight over his length. Letting your pussy lips be on either side of his cock.
Steve sits up, looking down at his stomach. This isn’t at all what he had planned. Seeing you innocently biting at your lip as you start to move over him. Your drenched cunt rubbing over his length in the most delightful way. He would have never taken the time for this. It was always about getting it in, and getting his feel before he’d leave his cum on their chest, their face, whatever. Never inside of them.
But with you he wanted to see you dripping with him. Wanted to watch your face as he split you open for the first time. He needed to see every change to your face. Hear all your sounds of pain and discomfort turn into blinding pleasure. He needed to see and feel it all.
But this not only feels amazing, it looks even better. Your sweet whimpers while you use him to get off. Even the bounce of your tits as you start to pick up speed, “Can I touch you?” You answer by nodding your head quickly. His hands slid up your body before cupping your breasts. Kneading each one of them with the expertise that only he has.
“You look so gorgeous, little bird. You’re making your Captain feel so good,” you start panting at his words. He admitted he was yours. “Clarence loves the way your pussy feels. Fuck, I need this, Dove. Everyday until you give me what’s mine. You’re going to take me so well, too. This pussy was made for me. She’s going to be molded to your Captain. The perfect fit, Dovey.”
He smiles when your movements become erratic. He isn’t sure if it’s the gyrating of your hips or the praising, but he is loving this. “I knew you could be a good girl for me. I can’t wait to feel all of you, Dovey. You’re all mine, and my body is all yours. Have you stretched so tight around me, and I’ll kiss away every tear that spills from your pretty eyes. There ya go, Dove. Right there, baby. You’re doing the best job for your Captain. Oh fuck, baby!”
He pinches and rolls your nipples as your legs start trembling. “There’s my girl. Look at how pretty you look when you’re coming. Go on, Dove. Ride it out. Ride out your high, darling,” he can feel your juices soak his pelvis, and while he was close, he was going to let you come down from this high.
“Thatta, girl,” removing his hands, he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, and twists you around. Hovering his body over yours, his thick fingers brush back your baby hairs as he waits on your eyes to open back up. “How was that?”
“You didn’t — Capt…oh,” your voice sinks away when his hips thrust himself through your lips. It isn’t sex, and in a way, it is much more intimate. Steve looks over your face, and just how utterly spent you are becoming. Squeaking, and trying to mutter out his nickname.
“Shh, enjoy the ride,” he whispers before starting to nip at your neck. Giving the sensitive column open mouth kisses as you cling to his back. His whole weight was on top of you, and you wanted more. If you could speak, you’d tell him to have it right now. To go ahead and sink into you for real, but you couldn’t.
His pelvis drives through your folds quicker, the ball of his piercing rubbing over your clit, and causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head. You keep your legs good and spread to accommodate the thick body of Steve. A limp noodle. That’s what you were. Lifeless, but full of the most blinding pleasure.
“Dovey, I’m about to come, where do you want it?”
“Like…like that first time.”
“You want me to try to get some in you?” Vigorously you nod your head, and he hates he had to ask you. He wants his seed so deep inside of you that it makes him crazy. Sitting up, he chokes his cock a few times, before pressing the tip right at your entrance, and you simper as his warmth coats your pussy.
“Did some of it get in me?” Chuckling, Steve leans back on his heels, and spreads you out. “Yes, Dovey. Some of it got in there. I’d finger it in you, but I don’t want you to get pregnant like this.”
“Steve, I have an IUD,” he growls, his jaw pulsing. “What is it?”
“We gotta have that removed.”
“But…I don’t want to get pregnant right away. I want you to have me dicked down so hard I can’t walk. And I just don’t want to worry about that. Steve, I did this for us.”
“Fine. A few months, but then I want it removed. Because I will fuck you so hard and deep that your belly starts to swell with me. Fuck,” he grits his teeth, getting out of the bed. He doesn’t say another word as he walks into the bathroom. Returning with a warm washcloth he cleans you up. Finishing, he leans forward and peppers the sweetest kisses over your core. Letting a kiss linger as his eyes drift up to you, and he stands up swiftly.
“I need a cigarette. Go back to bed. I’ll be back in just a minute,” his voice is short, and almost angry? Puzzled?
“Okay,” you look at him a bit confused, but crawl under the covers, and hold them tight around your body. He was acting funny, and you aren’t sure why.
Steve stands just outside the front door. Keeping it wide open as he stares into the cabin. Taking long drawls of the stick. He knows he’s starting to lose his mind. First offering to let you brand him, and now this. He wouldn’t lose his touch, but he also wasn’t going to lose you. Yeah. He wanted you pregnant to keep you. It’s all it was. And that is a secret he would keep to himself.
“Hey,” you are thankful that there was a break from classes, and you could lounge around all day. But the random visits from Natasha were annoying. “Ahem,” she clears her throat, and you grunt in response. You want to be left alone.
“I hope your tits are covered, I’m coming in there.”
“Ahh,” you bring the covers up around your chest, jolting up in bed. “What are you doing?”
“I did warn you,” she pulls open your curtains, and you notice a box in her hands that she tosses on the bed. “There. It’s for you to wear. Steve will be here at five. You need a shower. Change the fucking sheets on the bed, and get used to people looking at your body. Steve loves showing off what he has that no one can touch. You could take a bath and get good and relaxed. Isn’t there some oils in there? Make yourself look nice.”
“What is going on?” Asking as you timidly pull the box towards you.
“Aww, your tattoo has healed nicely. I heard about it. You really let him do that?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” reaching into the box, you pull out a slinky dress. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I’m going to tell your lover boy you said that,” she gives you a quick wink. Was everyone aware that Steve didn’t like you using profanity? Everyone single one of them were probably watching and listening, just to tell him, “You’re going on a date. He’ll be here at five. Don’t be late.”
“I don’t have any shoes for this dress.”
Natasha takes a calculated step towards you before cupping your cheek. Her thumb traces the outline of your kiss bruised lips, and she smiles sweetly at you. “Honey, you belong to Steve Rogers. He’ll bring everything else that you’ll need for the date. He sure is breaking you in nicely. Have you let him fucked you yet?”
“No. His cock scares me,” your voice is so weak as you put the dress back in the box. You’d get it out after your bath.
“Why?” Natasha tries to stifle her giggles, and you swat her hand off your face. Glaring up at her for mocking you, “Ooh, she’s feisty, but too scared to take little Stevie’s dick. You know it’ll fit.”
“Three fingers hurt.”
“And that veiny cock is going to sting. Surely three fingers eventually feel good? I bet you like a little bit of the pain, don’t you? Is it true he’s pierced?” Her perfectly arched brow moves up, and she grins at you once again.
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“I’m talking about his — you sly dog. You won’t let him put it in your puss or your ass, but you’ll take it in your mouth. What gives?” Shrugging, because it was killing you to continue to deny him. And ultimately yourself. “Things stretch.”
“That sounds awful!”
“At first,” shocking you, she flops down on yours and Steve’s bed, grimacing as she looks at you. “Please, tell me the two of you just sleep here.”
“I’m naked,” of course you and Steve didn’t just sleep in here. You and him were discovering ways to pleasure yourselves and each other without penetration. It was beginning to suck.
“Shh. I don’t need to hear that. I’m going to give you some pointers because you and your baby bird talons have managed to do something to Steve. You want to fuck him, yeah?”
“Duh,” you cover your mouth, trying to stop yourself from giggling. “But it’s so big!”
“Don’t…stop. Keep your tits covered. The pussy stretches to accommodate large things. I mean babies come out of that hole,” gasping, you take that information in. “Oh, you’ll experience that as well. Steve is going to have his babies. But you’re freaking yourself out about it. Let it just happen. He’s not going to just shove himself in there. He’s going to, you know, play with you.”
“This is really awkward,” the way everyone is so open with your sex life, and your body is slightly embarrassing. Natasha is better than Bucky or Sam, but still. The principle of the matter is you need to get used to this.
“Use one of your toys, and…”
“I’m not allowed to have penetrating toys.”
Her mouth falls open as she looks at you. Reaching around you to your side of the bed, she pulls open the drawer, and starts laughing, “Not allowed? And you behave? I’d like for someone to tell me I couldn’t do something. What is this shit? What do you even do with them?”
You spend a lot of time swatting Natasha. Getting her out of your drawer, you close it. Turning to look at her with a glare, “But I’m not you. I don’t mind being told what to do, and also testing his boundaries. And, well…I do want Steve to be the first thing, ya know? Like that’s somehow romantic in our fucked up relationship. He’s the only person to ever be inside me,” Natasha tilts her head to the side, her eyes flit around your face as she studies you. “And only his fingers. And mine. And I like that. And I don’t know if what I’m doing is making him want to beg for me. I don’t want to be the one that breaks.”
“So you want him to break?” You can see the mischievousness in her grin as she looks towards the door. “Okay, I know what he’s bringing you when he picks you up. I’ve got the perfect idea!”
“Little bird!” Steve shouts the moment he walks in the door. You take a final look at yourself in the mirror before inhaling a deep breath. Starting to turn around when Steve’s reflection is behind you. “Dove,” his voice whispers as his eyes scan over your front and back. You almost have forgotten your given name in preference of his nickname.
“Wow,” stepping up behind you, his hands skim down your sides, before flowing over your stomach, and he pulls you into him. “What do you think of the dress?”
“It’s nice. But what do you think?”
“I think you look good enough to devour, but we should get to dinner.”
“Steve, I don’t have any shoes for this dress,” you turn around in his embrace, looking up at him through your lashes. There’s always little reminders of just how massive he is. The most broad shoulders you have ever seen. And those chiseled arms that are currently wrapping around you tightly, and make you feel secure. Not trapped.
“I know, darling. I brought you some shoes with me. And also,” you hate the loss of his arms and warmth around you, but he reaches in his back pocket to take out a jewelry box. “I know most women expect diamonds, and don’t worry, you’ll get your diamonds.”
Opening the box, you glance back up at him, and he gulps. Licking his lips slowly as he removes the piece of jewelry. You turn back around, letting him place the necklace around your neck, “Pearls represent purity. And one day I’ll have you dripping in diamonds.”
“The day I’m no longer pure?” You ask, looking at his eyes through the mirror as he finishes clasping the necklace. “The day you no longer want me?”
“Dovey, you’ll always be more pure than me. And the day I no longer want you is a day that doesn’t exist. If I die first, I will haunt you. You’ll always be mine.”
“And if I die first?” Steve takes a long inhale as his lips start running over the top of your back. Not even lifting fully off your skin as he presses his petal pink mouth over your supple skin, “What happens if I die first?”
“I’ll join you in the afterlife immediately after. I won’t live without you,” biting on your lip, Steve looks deep into your eyes in the mirror, “There is no me without you, Dovey. I will tear this world apart and burn it to ashes to save you. And that’s a promise. But for now, I think it’s time for dinner. C’mon. You need your shoes,” sliding his hand down to yours, he guides you into the living room where he picks up a new box.
Starting to reach towards the box, he beats you, and sinks down to his knees, “Give me your right foot. I’m here for balance, Dovey, use me,” you have to brace yourself as you hold your hand on him to keep yourself from falling. His calloused hands add each heel to your foot before he kisses up your leg.
The softest open mouth kisses, guiding his way up to the hemline of your dress, but it doesn’t stop his ascent. Kissing right over your front and then peppering kisses across your collarbone. Going further up to kiss your tattoo, “You wear my mark beautifully, Dovey. We really should go.”
You aren’t sure how long Steve is going to remain soft, or if he’s only trying to break you, so he can receive his ultimate prize, but it’s working. Every bit of it. You don’t even want to go to dinner, you want tonight to be the night. Because he’s worth it.
You take a bite of cheesecake off Steve’s fork. Smiling at him while you pull his hand under your dress, and higher up your thigh. Letting him feel just how heated your core was for him. Tonight was amazing. Not just romantic, but fun. He laughed. He kissed you in between courses.
His life is fascinating, and you love being a part of it. His pinky wiggles along your panties, and you bite of your lip, stopping a whimper from escaping. You lean your head over onto his shoulder as you let him feel just how ruined your panties are.
You mewl, and grab tighter to his arm. Enjoying this moment when a man clears his throat. “Looks like your getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar, Rogers.”
“Rumlow,” Steve grunts, leaning forward slightly in front of your body, and blocking you from this man. “Aren’t you usually in the slums of the city?”
“Funny, Rogers. So it is true?” Steve pulls himself out from under your dress, and grabs your hand, holding it tightly. Dinner was almost over, and now there is a man you had never met, and he is ruining the moment you were having. “You got you a little doll to dress up, huh?”
“Just some girl,” making a sign of irritation, Steve’s hand squeezes yours, and you shut up quickly. “I thought I told you not to come here.”
“Yeah, well, there’s not so nice of places to eat where you banished me to. The delicacies here are much nicer. Word on the street is there’s some nice rare and fresh pussy in your midst,” Rumlow chuckles when Steve’s hand drops yours, and he stands, twisting Rumlow around to have his face shoved up against the table.
He laughs as he looks up at you, “You’ll learn. He’ll just use you up like all his other whores,” Steve lifts his head up, and slams it back on the table. “Enough, Rogers!”
“Apologize to her!” He grunts, pounding his head again. “Apologize!”
“So she’s not some girl. You used to send your whores wherever you got the most money. Now look at you, holding one on a short leash, and all for your own. Going soft. Alright!” He shouts when Steve hits his head again. A dribble of blood starting to drip on the table.
A part of you wants to turn and leave and forget about this life. The other part is watching your man fight for your honor. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks for ruining our fucking dinner, you fucking pig,” he slings his body over to another table and the patrons scream. His inked hand softens when he takes yours. “Let’s go home, Dovey.”
His voice is steady, but you hear the anger in it. Choosing to not make a comment this time. Knowing that he needs to work through his anger on the long drive to the cabin. Swallowing deeply as you try to hydrate your mouth. Tonight was perfect. And with one asshole it was ruined, and you hadn’t had a chance to initiate Natasha’s plan.
Driving quietly to the cabin, you watch Steve’s hands flex on the steering wheel, “Who was that?”
“A piece of shit.”
“I could tell,” Steve huffs, and drives a bit faster. “Who was it?”
“A former friend. He…he’s another dealer. Not quite as successful, and he sure likes to piss me off. This…I want you kept away from people like him. They think they know, and they have no idea. But — I should have known better. People can talk, but…”
“We don’t have to go on dates anymore,” grimacing, he turns to look at you. “Is it dangerous for me to be seen with you?”
“I put a fucking target on your neck.”
“I can finish school online. I don’t want to stay in the cabin alone and waiting on you, but I don’t have to be seen.”
“Why are you acting so calm about this?”
You shrug, turning your body to face him as your hand plants on his thigh, and rubs it soothingly. “Because I have to be the calm to your chaos.”
“You’re a fucking brat.”
“When I need to be,” Steve’s mouth turns up into a crooked grin as he pulls into the cabin. Starting to retreat, you had plans, and you would see them through. “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable, Captain,” his eyes darken as you jump out of the car. You make sure to add some extra sway into your hips as you make your way into your new home.
Steve stays in the car for a moment as he thinks about how stupid and reckless he’s been. Rumlow had heard something. Didn’t matter if it was about you specifically. He heard something, and that was enough to irritate the fuck out of him.
He’d put a target right on your neck, one that told people who you belonged to. And most would leave you alone. There were a select few that were stupid enough to try something, and that clearly hadn’t been on the front of his mind.
He’d keep you hidden if he had to. He’d keep you right beside him. Whatever it took because you now belonged to him, and he would murder the world if it meant keeping you safe.
He sighs, knowing it was going to be another night of him aching. You were folding. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. But you had proven to be just as stubborn as he was, and it made him giddy. Of course he’d want to keep someone that challenged him. And looked damn adorable in doing so.
Walking into the cabin, he tosses his keys to the side when he sees you standing in the doorway with your little lingerie on. Turning around, he locks the door and sets the alarm, “I’m not really in the mood, Dovey.”
“I know you’re not, Captain. I just thought we could relax a moment before bed,” he turns around, the blue of his eyes barely visible as he looks you up and down. Stopping on your mark before he looks at your bare neck.
“I need to get you a place to store your jewelry. Did you place it on the dresser?” You shake your head no as he walks towards the couch. Stopping with your answer, and you ease closer to him. Kneeling on the floor in front of him as you pout up at his tall stature. He cups your chin, tilting your face up more, so he can see you better.
His thumb traces your lips, and you part your mouth. The appendage slips past your pillowy pout, and you respond, closing your mouth around him. Sucking on his large thumb, and wishing it was his cock in your mouth., “On the counter in the bathroom?”
You shake your head no again, and his lip turns up into a snarl. Hoping you are right in your thinking on what he needs to do. “What the fuck, Dove? Where is it?”
“I must have lost it,” he growls, removing his thumb and plopping down on the couch, and laying his head back on the cushions. His hands pulses with his anger. Natasha told you he had taken the time to pick out the piece of jewelry himself. “Are you mad, Captain?”
“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed off. I got something for you to be nice, and you fucking lost it. It’s like you don’t even care. It’s…”
“You think I deserve a punishment?” His head picks up from the couch, and he glares at you. Trying to ignore your tits that are early popping out of your top. Or the way that the garter belt is digging into your soft skin. You were walking sin. A pure temptress that was nothing but a cocktease.
“I lost something that is precious to you. You’re angry, so why don’t you show me what happens to naughty girls?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking, Dovey,” the timbre of his voice is low and full of rasp as you tilt your head, and nod.
“I do. Don’t you remember what happened last time you punished me? The way my body responded to you? Don’t you want to try again?”
In one movement he has you laying across his lap, and his beefy hand smooths over your ass. Letting out a little whimper, you turn back to look up at him. “Did you really lose my gift I just gave you a few hours ago?”
“Yes, sir,” smack. “Mmm,” you moan, and Steve’s hand rubs over your stinging skin. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” slap on the other cheek. His eyes look more at your jiggling ass than your face.
“I am sorry, Captain. Ooh!” You mewl as he slaps each cheek back to back. “I’ve been such a bad,” smack, “Naughty,” smack, “little bird,” the hardest smack of all brings a line of tears to your eyes. “Captain, I didn’t mean it.”
“How is your ass feeling, Dovey?”
“It hurts.”
“How’s my pussy feeling, Dove?” You clear your throat, trying to lift yourself up for him to get a better view. “I can feel you throbbing on me. You sure are a little slut that needs to be devoured, huh? Shall I take a look at that pretty hole?” You shake your head no, biting at your lip. “I deserve to see the mess that I helped create. You’re burning a hole in my pants with how heated you are.”
His thick fingers start to pull down your lacey underwear, and he lets them stay on your thighs. With one hand on each cheek, he pulls you apart, and looks back up at your face, “Dovey, what are you trying to do?”
“Nothing, Captain.”
“What have we here?” You whimper as his hand reaches in between your thighs, giving the necklace a little tug. Wiggling around on his lap, you try not to make a peep as a few of the pearls pop out of your entrance.
“Who taught you about pearl play, hmm? I don’t like when things go in my pussy that aren’t me.”
“But it’s so small. Uhh,” you bite on your lip as he rubs a few of the pearls over your sensitive nub. “I didn’t…”
“It was Natasha, wasn’t it? She taught you how to be a naughty little slut. Are you ready to submit to me?”
“Do I have your heart?” Steve flattens the strand of pearls above your clit, and pushes and pulls it over your own pearl. “Do I, Steve?”
“Is my loyalty not enough?”
“Is that all I’m worth?”
“You’re more than the world could ever offer.”
“Then say…mmm…say it!” Your voice cracks as pleasure courses through your veins. “I need you to say that I own your heart!”
“You own me,” he pulls a few of the pearls out of your twat, and stars interrupt your vision. “You own my whole being. My loyalty. My protection. My everything.”
You grab onto his legs tightly, gritting your teeth as your orgasm builds up. Nearly taking your breath away, but you weren’t going to give it to him. “I want your heart!” Steve pulls the necklace fully out of you, and starts slapping your swollen pussy lips with his flattened hand. “I need your heart, Steve!”
He doesn’t stop. Just continues to slap over the sensitive skin as your juices pool out of you. “Steve, give me your heart! Ahh! Please, that's all I want!” Turning your head to look at him, he gives you a regretful look, “Please!” You sigh as his hand flattens over your core. “Will you not give it to me?”
He shakes his head, letting his hands drop to his sides. Giving a little growl, you remove your belly from his lap. Standing up to remove your panties completely before turning to straddle him. Grabbing up his hand you place it over your chest. “It’s yours. All of it, and all of me is yours. Why can’t you do the same for me? Steve, you own me. I own you, so give me what I want! Please.”
“I have no heart to give you,” he whispers, pulling you to him by your chin. “I lost it a long time ago, but if I had one, it would be yours.”
“You just don’t want to tell me you love me.”
“You haven’t even told me,” he smirks, dropping his hands to your thighs, they run to your hips, and he starts grinding you over his lap. His cock presses into his slacks, and right onto your bare center. It’s a fear you’ve had. As amazing as he feels, you worry this is all he can give you. “Tell me.”
“You first,” Steve clears his throat, as he moves you faster over him. Moving his head closer to your chest before biting on your top, and pulling it down enough to free your tits. Giving your nipple a bite, he rolls the hardened bud in between his teeth. “We’re at a stand still. Will you love our children?”
“I’ll protect them and care for them.”
“That’s all you’re going to give us?”
“Honey, are you daydreaming about our family?”
“Don’t tease,” you give his arm a little swat before you force him to look at you. His hands not having to make you move anymore as your hips naturally search for that pleasuring friction. “I love you, Steven Rogers. And you can have me when I mark you. All of me. I want every woman to be envious that you’re owned. Every man to know that you come home to me every night. I want our children to look at their father and believe that he loves their mother enough to have her seared on his skin.”
“Done,” he moans, and you reach behind you, removing your bra. Letting yourself be almost completely bare and vulnerable for him. Leaning forward, you give him a hard bite on his neck. Right where you were going to mark him, and he grits his teeth. You don’t let up. You listen as his breathing picks up. Can feel bruises forming on your hips with the way he is digging into your skin.
His cock is throbbing, needing so much more than this not so dry humping. His pants are ruined, and his neck is getting implanted with your teeth marks. But you don’t stop. You bite down a bit harder, until he’s screaming in pleasure and pain, and his spunk heats up your core. You pull off his neck. Sitting straight up, and shimmy your shoulders.
“Is that it then? Searing my skin?”
“I want my lips to burn your neck. I need to see my brand charred on you.”
“As you wish, Dovey. I’ll have Natasha get your lips copied, and a branding tool will be created. You can burn my whole body if it means I get you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“And one day, I’ll have your heart, Steve,” you pull off him, and reach your hand down to him. “Let’s go to bed.”
“As you wish.”
Next
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @lyndys @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @honeyhoneylovelylove
#your mark on me#steve x dove#steve rogers#drug lord#drug lord au#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fics#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers smut#chris evans#chris evans characters
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More soulmate nonsense, haha.
Soulmate mechanics:
After your 18th birthday (Or equivalent), your soulmate’s voice becomes your inner voice, your inner monologue. (Not just accent and general voice sound, but how they would say something, the slang they use, etc.)
Trigger warnings: Extremely brief mention of a bad homelife/abusive home, mentions of drug lords and drugs, lots of swearing.
It was a fairly difficult thing for Loki to get used to. They expected many things, but this particular speech pattern wasn’t one of them.
One moment, they were using slang, crude language, and swears as casually as one’s own name. The next, flowery language and poetic descriptions, easily equatable to something Loki might find in a poetry book in Asgard’s palace library. It was difficult to discern when and where the change in tone would take place, but it was always without warning.
‘A beautiful star-filled sky, as if fireflies danced in the endless expanse beyond. So wondrous, it makes the mind curious as to how many unexplored worlds and interesting cultures could be out there. If only there were time to dedicate to such a venture.'
Flowery language like that, which could then, for seemingly no reason at all, turn into: ‘That fucking horizon is beautiful, holy shit, my guy!’
As crude as it was, sometimes Loki couldn’t help but snicker at how the voice would translate their thoughts. Sometimes it’d say the most ridiculous and out of nowhere things from the simplest ideas.
‘She’s parading around like she’s Aphrodite. But... come on, with that shade of green, plus the orange? She looks like vomited up baby food.’
“*Snort*”
“Are you alright, brother?”
“*Throat clear* Yes, I’m fine...”
They had to admit, some of the slang they used became fairly endearing after a while. ‘Ya’ll’, ‘Honey/Hun’, ‘Dude’, etc. At one point, Loki even caught themself nearly using one of those in a conversation. Thankfully, though, they caught it before they said it out loud.
”As much as I’d love to join you du- uh, *ahem* my friend-”
‘Jeezus crispy! You almost embarrassed the fuck out of yourself!’
In the end, despite how annoying the crude manner was at first, Loki grew used to it, and eventually, some of the little verbal quirks became endearing.
‘Your soulmate must be a fuckin’ weirdo if they talk like this. Just imagine how awkward it’ll be for Odin and Frigga to meet them, woof. ...But regardless, ‘weird’ is something you’re considered too, are you not? So maybe that isn’t so bad.’
Meanwhile:
Blake found the inner monologue in his mind very comforting. ‘I wonder what kind of person could be behind such a lovely voice?’ He put a lot of thought behind that, especially after he realized how prim and old-fashioned they spoke.
Reading poetry, or any book, really, was something he enjoyed greatly, even before his soulmate’s voice arrived in his mind. But, that inner voice only made it better.
Blake actually kind of liked how it would hiss in such an aggressive tone when he got angry, as well. It almost made him feel like he wasn’t alone. ‘Fools, barbaric fools! How they could possibly say they ‘love you’ when they so readily harm you only the all-father knows. They don’t deserve you, not at all.’ ‘Hearing’ things like that always made him feel a bit better about the abusive home he was born into.
Blake assumed that his soulmate must’ve been a massive mythology buff like he was, or perhaps was even a Norse pagan, considering how often he seemed to reference Norse myth in his casual speech.
*Lighting strikes a few feet away from him*
“By Heimdall’s eyes! That almost hit you!”
Sometimes he’d even entertain sillier ideas, especially after news about Steve Rogers returning.
‘Perhaps my soulmate is one of those ‘men out of time’ as well?’ or even, ‘Maybe my soulmate is even a god? That could explain why they always make reference to them.’
But, Blake knew the odds of having such an unnatural match were slim. It was far more likely that he was just an average Joe who enjoyed mythology.
Hell, with how his life has been going, Blake was surprised that he even had a soulmate. ‘Why would someone like you ever be chosen by anyone, much less a god?’ It was thoughts like that which hurt him to ‘hear’. Though, in the back of his mind, he knew they weren’t really saying it. It was just simple intrusive thoughts.
...But it felt like so much more coming from that voice.
But later...
‘These mortals are nothing. Not but bugs to be crushed under your heel. Show them and your beloved ‘father’ what you’re capable of!’
“An ant has no quarrel with a boot.”
“Are you planning to step on us?”
‘Fool doesn’t even realize the fire he’s playing with. What a fucking moron.’
His thoughts manipulated by the mindstone, those thoughts translated through that voice. Loki probably should’ve realized something was wrong when he heard so little of that slang and casual attitude they were so used to. But there was just enough of that crude language and simple manner at times to keep their guard lowered. Not to mention, the mindstone itself keeping him from realizing what it was doing.
‘That man was an innocent person caught in the crossfire. If it weren’t for you and that drug lord, he’d still be alive.’
“I can’t just sit by when someone ended up killed because of me.”
“It wasn’t your fault, it was his. Right now, you need to stay low, or he'll target you again!”
‘He doesn’t understand. Of course he wouldn’t, how could he? You have power now, avenge that innocent stranger and stop him before he harms anyone else.’
That voice behind his motivation only strengthened his resolve. He would put that man, ‘Cortez’, behind bars for killing that innocent truck driver, and for trying to kill him. Of course, that only left the task of finding him.
Loki was imprisoned within the helicarrier, while Blake was discovered by Nick Fury after taking down a rogue group called ‘the drug lords’. (Barely managing it, but doing so nonetheless.)
‘That mindstone was a joke. Let’s hope that you never see it again. ...Though the staff was very snazzy.’
Nick offered Blake, aka Copycat, (And his cat, Austin.) a place in SHIELD, possibly even as an Avenger! Of course, Copycat went with him right away.
��Finally, someone recognizes you for your clear talents.’
But then, something weird happened. Blake heard from Thor about his brother, and out of curiosity, went to see them for himself.
“So, you’re the famous Loki, then?” That voice immediately made Loki jump. He turned, to see him standing on the other side of the glass. “Gotta admit, that outift... nice.” Normally, Loki would’ve responded with a simple chuckle and some comment about flattery, but that voice gave them pause.
‘Holy shit. No way, that can’t be him, can it?!’
“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. ...Jee, I’m not that scary, am I?”
‘Oh god, that’s definitely him. SHIT, why did this have to happen now?!.’
‘Are they alright...?’
“It’s you, you’re my destined, aren’t you?” Copycat’s eyes instantly widened when he heard that voice.
‘Is he your destined? No, they couldn’t be...could they?’
The fact that that word ‘destined’ came up in both sentences made Blake’s breath hitch. Loki immediately stood from the chair at the back of their cell, they walked up to the glass, neither breaking eye contact.
“Oh my god-” ‘Oh my god-’
‘It’s them.’ “It’s you.”
It was almost like they finished each other’s thoughts.
#Bloki#AU#selfship soulmate au#soulmate au#f/o soulmate au#fictional other#fictional other community#fictional other x self insert#marvel self insert#marvel self ship#marvel fandom#loki x oc#loki f/o#loki x s/i#loki x self#loki x original character#Copyverse#soulmate alternate universe#f/o au#f/o headcanons#marvel selfship#marvel fan character#selfship community#selfship headcanons#mlm selfship#lgbt selfship
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MasterList
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Thank you to all support given on my stories! It makes me so happy ♡
I only post on A03, Wattpad and on here on this username only so if you see my stories under a different name/site (minus reblogs) than it's be reposted without permission.
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Marvel
Criminal Behavior - (Ongoing)
Pairing: Druglords Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes X Detective!OFC-
Summary: Rose Phillips, one of the best vice detectives in the game, was given a mission to catch the biggest drug lord in all of New York. James Buchanan Barnes. Framing as a lady of the night at a hidden gentlemen’s club, her mission being to do anything it takes to lure her target into her trap. Even if it means going through one of his accomplices to get there. Will the notorious criminals fall for her trap or will Rose fall for their criminal behavior?
Warnings: Lots of swearing, violence, and mild sexual content.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
*Rest will be posted on A03*
You Are My Heaven - (Completed)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Sweep Me Off My Feet
Summary: A short reader insert story of falling in love with pre-winter soldier James Barnes to post-Winter Soldier Bucky.
A fluffy tear jerker that’ll make you cringe or get butterflies and blush.
*Rewritten cause original was cringe (still kind of is)
Part 2 - Before You Go
Summary: Spending sweet last moments with Bucky before his deployment date.
Part 3 - His Promise
Summary: It's been 6 painful years since the tragedy of losing Bucky. But is he truly gone? How will you feel if he returned like he had promised all those years ago?
I'm Always With You - (Complete)
Pairing: Steve x Fem!OFC/Reader (Just replace with Y/N)
Summary: Inspired by the movie Age of Adaline.
Elaine Roger's life changes when a simple slip turns deadly, losing not only the life she once imagined but the one person that meant everything to her.
A short story with short chapters on Elaine's struggles to cope with being near eternal and her relationship with Steve Rogers.
Chapter 1 - Where It Began
Chapter 2 - The Accident
Chapter 3 - Losing Him
Chapter 4 - Compromise
Chapter 5 - Awakening
Chapter 6 - Till The End Of Time (End)
Stranger Things
Extraordinary
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Friends to lovers, simply fluffy and sweet with a hint of depression.
House of The Dragon
Cloaked In Gold
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!OC (Rewriting)
Ellarianna, a young woman born with rare healing abilities, has been requested by the royal family to attend to King Viserys in final hopes of curing his disease. While tending to, a certain one eyed dragon found particular interest in such a rarity, drawn by her mysterious hiding and power. Charmed foolish by her glowing presence, there is more behind Ellarianna that he has yet to see, dancing a dangerous game between dragons and gods that will only end in heartache and betrayal.
*A dark/twisted inspired Rapunzel*
*Editing/rewriting as if my life depends on it please bear with me🥲*
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
*Rest will be posted/fully edited on A03*
Other
My Lost Boys Tattoo! ❤
#bucky barnes#bucky imagine#captain america#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#reader fanfiction#steve rogers fanfiction#the winter soldier#chris evans#sebastian stan#eddie munson#joseph quinn#steve rogers#eddie munson fluff#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x oc#james bucky barnes#winter soldier#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#aemond targaryen#prince aemond#house of dragons#house targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#the lost boys
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TSB Round 6 Roundup - Week 30/31!
Collaborator : deehellcat
Card Number: 6028
Square Filled: T5 - abducted
Title: through hell and back, no longer alone
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Bucky
Word Count: 7343
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: AU-no powers, meet-cute, books, identity porn (sort of), attempted abduction, ableist language x1, homelessness
Summary: While out on a doctor-mandated walk in Central Park, Tony discovers a hidden campsite, and starts a correspondence with the mysterious person squatting there.
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Collaborator : hereandnowwearealive
Card Number: 6044
Square Filled: T1 - Art format: glitch art
Title: Error
Link: Tumblr
Pairings: n/a
Word Count: n/a
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: Art fill
Summary: image of Tony looking up, alarmed, accompanied with the text "error"
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Collaborator : Becca
Card Number: 6023
Square Filled: K3 - Marriage
Title: Home
Link: AO3
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Word Count: 457
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: Team as Family, Drunk Steve Rogers, Drunk Tony Stark, Drunken Shennanigans,
Summary: I saw a tumblr post or something mentioning a guy who was out with friends and was randomly like "I miss my wife. I'm going home." and if that doesn't describe exactly how Steve feels about Tony, I don't know what does. This is a short ficlet about Steve being that guy. Sort of.
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Collaborator : rebelmeg
Card Number: 6001
Square Filled: A4 - Tony in Workshop
Title: A Cure for January Blues
Link: AO3
Pairings: N/A
Word Count: 957
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: fluff, humor, banter, workshop shenanigans
Summary: With mid-winter gloominess upon him, Tony has an idea for a project.
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Collaborator : nolanfa
Card Number: 6007
Square Filled: S4 - Truth Drug / Spell
Title: Trust
Link: AO3
Pairings: N/A
Word Count: 100
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: N/A
Summary: What Tony might say if he were truth-serumed.
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Collaborator : DarthBloodOrange
Card Number: 6066
Square Filled: Adopted - KINK: spanking
Title: A Good Spanking
Link: AO3
Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Word Count: N/a - Moodboard
Rating: Explicit
Major Tags/Triggers: Sexual Content, Nudity, BDSM, Lingerie, Established Relationship
Summary: The sharp hiss of the paddle is loud in the warm space of their bedroom, only interrupted by cries of pleasure and murmured praise. Kneeling before Bucky, the world is quiet and simple again.
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Collaborator : deehellcat
Card Number: 6028
Square Filled: K4 - MIT Years
Title: Too Well Tangled In My Soul
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Rhodey
Word Count: 2014
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: MIT Years, Scars, Tony Stark’s Canon-Compliant Poor Self-Esteem, Mentions of Racism, Mutual Pining
Summary: A couple of decades of Tony and Rhodey, what grows between them, and what might threaten to keep them apart.
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Collaborator : Me and me alone
Card Number: 6069
Square Filled: A3 - Free Space
Title: A Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow
Link: AO3
Pairings: Peggy Carter & Tony Stark, SteveBuckyPeggy
Word Count: 2699
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: Kid!Tony, Fluff and Crack, Disney World AU
Summary: After an emergency calls Howard away, Tony is dropped off at the Carter/Rogers/Barnes household without little notice. Peggy notices that her poor godson hasn't had much of a chance to just be a kid lately and she knows the perfect cure: Disney World.
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Collaborator : SomeSortofItalianRoast
Card Number: 6002
Square Filled: A1 - AU: Regency
Title: A Soldier for a Duke
Link: AO3
Pairings: Pre-Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes
Word Count: 1550
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Royalty,
Summary: Lord Anthony Stark, the Duke of Hastings, has determined that he shall wed this season’s Diamond of the First Water. Her guardian, Sergeant James Barnes of Buckinghamshire, has something to say about that. And it’s not “yes.”
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Collaborator : deehellcat
Card Number: 6028
Square Filled: R2 - shipwrecked
Title: The Treasures Few Have Ever Seen
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Pepper/Rhodey
Word Count: 1237
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Polyamory, Shipwrecked, mentions of D/s dynamics, Not Endgame Compliant, Tony Stark Lives, the Russos whomst, Post-Endgame
Summary: “Rhodey. Platypus. If anybody at MIT ever gets wind of this, I’m gonna wish Thanos had squashed me. I’ll die of embarrassment. We’re certified pirates. We helped start the school’s damned pirate program. And here we are shipwrecked!!”
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Collaborator : Girl Back There
Card Number: 6021
Square Filled: R3 - Friday
Title: Vibe Check
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Steve
Word Count: 1134
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: No Powers AU, Peter is Tony's Kid, Harley is Steve's kid, Established Relationship, Fluff
Summary: Harley and Peter worked too hard to get their dads together for Tony to forget to give Steve flowers.
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Collaborator : tencitizens
Card Number: 6087
Square Filled: A3 - Free Space
Title: Something to Get Me Through the Nothing - A WinterIron Round Robin
Link: AO3
Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Word Count: 2638
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Classic Cars, Memories, Comic Book Automotive Repair, Bucky Barnes Recovering, POV Alternating, Angst with a Hopeful Ending
Summary: Bucky Barnes remembers December 16, 1991 and can't keep it a secret. When he talks to Tony, he finds he's not the only one with issues. They talk and bond over nightmares, unfortunate shared history, and classic cars... and maybe find the start of something more.
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Collaborator : Buckybeardreams
Card Number: 6073
Square Filled: T5 - Disability fic
Title: Sensitivities
Link: AO3
Pairings: Steve/Bucky/Tony
Word Count: 3243
Rating: Explicit
Major Tags/Triggers: Internalized ableism
Summary: Tony's always been a little different, but he tries so hard to be normal, to live up to his father's reputation as a bad boy billionaire genius, spent so many years trying to hide the parts of him he viewed as weaknesses, and then Steve and Bucky ruined everything by making him fall for them. Now, Tony can finally just let go, and let his daddies take care of him.
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Collaborator : scottxlogan
Card Number: 6038
Square Filled: Adopted - de-aged!Tony
Title: First Meeting
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes
Word Count: 5387
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: First Meetings, First Kiss, Pre-Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Winter, Past Relationship(s), Past Abuse, On the Run, Age Difference, De-Aged Tony Stark, Older Man/Younger Man, Comfort/Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Stalking
Summary: Bucky Barnes is living a life of solitude on the run and hiding from Hydra in the hopes that he can find his way back to himself and his freedom again. On his path to freedom, Bucky encounters a younger Tony Stark hiding out from danger and hoping Bucky will play along in helping him escape the threat he's facing. When the two share an unexpected first meeting sparks fly and it opens the door to something more for each of them moving forward.
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Collaborator : PoliZ
Card Number: 6019
Square Filled: R1 - R1 - Tony's Poor Life Choices
Title: Never Have I Ever (But I’d Like to With You) - Chapter 2
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Steve
Word Count: 820
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Team Bonding, Never Have I Ever, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions
Summary: Tony can't get the thought of Captain America having joined the Mile High Club out of his mind, so he goes searching for answers.
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Collaborator : PoliZ
Card Number: 6019
Square Filled: R2 - IronWidow
Title: Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion - Chapter 3
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Natasha, Steve/Bucky, Tony & Bucky
Word Count: 1025
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Royalty AU, Secret Relationship, Political Alliances, Polyamory, Intrigue,
Summary: Bucky exposes a painful part of his past as Doctor Banner performs an autopsy on Rumlow; he, Banner and Tony discuss what comes next.
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Collaborator : PoliZ
Card Number: 6019
Square Filled: R4 - Occupational Hazard
Title: I Make Toys (But I Have Aspirations)
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony & Steve
Word Count: 351
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: Fantasy AU, North Pole AU, Elf Avengers
Summary: It wasn’t that Tony didn’t like working for Santa. It’s just that he wondered sometimes if maybe he was meant for more. One day, his friend Steve asks for his help, and Tony finds his true purpose.
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Collaborator : rebelmeg
Card Number: 6001
Square Filled: Adopted - Outsider POV
Title: Inside Jokes
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony & Avengers
Word Count: 3545
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: humor, inside jokes, friendship
Summary: Ah, inside jokes. The epitome of hilarity and often utterly nonsensical to the outside eye. What better way to make someone feel included than to bring them in on their very own inside joke?
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Collaborator : ralsbecket
Card Number: 6032
Square Filled: S3 - "I regret nothing."
Title: In Another Life
Link: AO3
Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark
Word Count: 708
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: TVA AU, Multiverse, Pre-Serum Bucky Barnes, Ambiguous Slash
Summary: Tony turned ever so slightly to the Hunter hovering behind Barnes, nodding once. “Reset him.” He picked up his gavel, lazily slamming it down to cement the verdict. As the Hunter grabbed Barnes by the arm, Tony told him jadedly, “I sure hope he was worth it.” “I regret nothing. Not a damn thing.” Barnes squared his shoulders even as he was dragged away, conviction clear in his voice. Tony wasn’t sure why his heart ached at Barnes’ final declaration: “Least of all loving Steve Rogers.”
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Collaborator : DarthBloodOrange
Card Number: 6066
Square Filled: S1 - AU: Cyberpunk
Title: Iron Cyber-Man
Link: AO3
Pairings: N/a
Word Count: N/a - Moodboard
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: Cyberpunk AU, Future AU
Summary: Cyberpunk AU Iron Man
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Collaborator : Girl Back There
Card Number: 6021
Square Filled: S1 - Myths and Legends
Title: A Price to Pay
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Loki
Word Count: 584
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Fantasy AU, Shifter Tony, Open ending, Making a deal, Moodboard
Summary: Stealing from a powerful wizard comes with consequences.
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Collaborator : deehellcat
Card Number: 6028
Square Filled: T4 - carnival
Title: Exactly How to Fill Those Shoes
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony/Steve
Word Count: 5449
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: omegaverse, dating agency, au—no powers, pre-serum Steve, systemic injustice, veils, getting together, alpha Steve Rogers, omega Tony Stark, identity porn
Summary: A small guy who's an alpha has a hard time being taken seriously, so Steve's friend Natasha persuades him to try signing up for a dating service. He meets Tony, who's as unconventional an omega as he is an alpha, and who has a few secrets.
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Collaborator : N/A
Card Number: 6092
Square Filled: R1 - Warm and fuzzy feelings
Title: Sulking
Link: Tumblr
Pairings: Bucky/Tony
Word Count: 2.1k
Rating: Mature
Major Tags/Triggers: A/B/O, Alpha/Daddy Bucky, Omega/brat Tony, Alpha Steve, Beta Sam, eh/c, friendship, advice, humour
Summary: Steve and Sam are there for Bucky, giving him relationship advice while Tony is on a business trip.
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Collaborator : Buckybeardreams
Card Number: 6073
Square Filled: K5 - 1990's
Title: Little Love
Link: AO3
Pairings: Steve/Bucky/Tony
Word Count: 2633
Rating: Explicit
Major Tags/Triggers: Underage, Tween Tony
Summary: Steve is unfrozen in the 80s and meets Howard’s young son, not expecting to bond with the child. In the course of one visit, Steve’s life changes, and Tony becomes the center of his world, but the arrival of The Winter Soldier complicates things.
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Collaborator : SomeSortofItalianRoast
Card Number: 6002
Square Filled: T3 - AU: No powers
Title: A Soldier for a Duke (Chapter 2: The Library)
Link: AO3
Pairings: Pre-Tony/bucky
Word Count: 2126
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Pre-Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Year of the OTP Prompt Event 2023
Summary: Anthony Stark, the Duke of Hastings, and Sergent James Barnes share an encounter in the library.
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Collaborator : rebelmeg
Card Number: 6001
Square Filled: T3 - holding hands
Title: Rebelmeg Drabbles - Chapter 24: Just Practicing
Link: AO3
Pairings: Iron Family
Word Count: 100
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: baby Morgan, fluff, drabble
Summary: Tony and Morgan get a jump on practicing for those first steps.
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Collaborator : scottxlogan
Card Number: 6038
Square Filled: A1 - Physical Therapy
Title: Finding My Way To You
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes
Word Count: 9849
Rating: Explicit
Major Tags/Triggers: Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Heavy Angst, Sexting, Enemies to Lovers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, References to Depression, Isolation, Touch-Starved, Online Relationship, Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Tony Stark, Dark Tony Stark, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Adult Content, Mild Language
Summary: After life has thrown him an unexpected curve Tony is in a bit of a slump in his personal life. After his break-up with Pepper, Tony thought he was fine. That is until Pepper moved on with someone new and an injury has Tony facing the idea of spending his life alone. Caught up in what he sees as himself having a mid-life crisis Tony joins a dating app where he finds someone special in the most unexpected of ways. The problem is that with Tony life is never as easy as he hopes for it to be and with his new love brings new complications to his world in the most unexpected of ways.
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Collaborator : N/a
Card Number: 6086
Square Filled: A5 - Silver Haired Tony
Title: Silver Haired Tony
Link: Tumblr
Pairings: Stony (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)
Word Count: N/a
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: N/a
Summary: A Moodboard for a silver-haired Tony Stark.
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Collaborator : tencitizens
Card Number: 6087
Square Filled: A5 - Flying
Title: Tony Stark, Who? (Chapter Two: I'm Right Here, Asshole!)
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Word Count: 5332
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: POV Tony Stark, Gen or Pre-Slash, Tony Stark Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curse Breaking, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant
Summary: “Mr. Stark is missing, and no one remembers him!” Peter Parker is working with Mr. Stark in his workshop when all of a sudden he disappears, poof! He finds himself looking for help from a certain wizard down on Bleecker Street... Chapter Two shows Tony's POV of his time being cursed, invisible and forgotten by nearly everyone in the world.
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Collaborator : n/a
Card Number: 6086
Square Filled: A4 - Cheesy
Title: It's Just Us
Link: AO3
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Word Count: 4.1k
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues
Summary: For their first Valentine's Day together, Steve asked Tony for one thing: a poem. No one could ever say that Tony Stark didn’t throw himself completely into his projects. Cue research, frustration, and workshop shenanigans.
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Collaborator : endlesstwanted
Card Number: 6085
Square Filled: R1 - Warm and fuzzy feelings
Title: A Moment of Quiet Among All this Madness
Link: AO3
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Word Count: 1204
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, On the Run, Pregnancy, Slice of Life
Summary: Tony wakes up in the motel room content, but craving Steve's warmth. He has to convince his alpha to join him now.
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Collaborator : tencitizens
Card Number: 6087
Square Filled: A1 - Image Prompt of Mark I Armor
Title: Iron Man (2008) - Suits
Link: Tumblr
Pairings: None
Word Count: N/A
Rating: Gen
Major Tags/Triggers: Iron Man, Tony Stark, Obadiah Stane, Iron Monger, Dum E, Iron Man Suits
Summary: Four gifs of the different versions of the Iron Man armors (Mark I, Mark II, Mark III, Iron Monger Suit) from the first Iron Man movie.
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Collaborator : rebelmeg
Card Number: 6001
Square Filled: R2 - image of IM2 Iron Bros
Title: Can't Miss What You Don't Like
Link: AO3
Pairings: Tony & Rhodey
Word Count: 3255
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: whump, angst with a happy ending, Tony survives his self-destruct attempt and has to face Rhodey afterward
Summary: It's hard for a friendship to recover from something like a knock-down, drag-out, house-destroying fight. The thing is, Tony never planned on being around long enough afterwards to find out whether it could.
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Collaborator : n/a
Card Number: 6086
Square Filled: A3 - Free Square
Title: Proud of Your Boy
Link: AO3
Pairings: none
Word Count: 1217
Rating: Teen
Major Tags/Triggers: Grief, talking to dead people, references to Tony's capture in Afghanistan, cemetery
Summary: After escaping Afghanistan, Tony needed to talk to his mom.
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Don't Blame Me
by iam93percentstardust
Don't blame me, love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, my drug is my baby
I'll be usin' for the rest of my life
~
There’s a boy dancing in Steve’s club.
He catches Steve’s eye immediately—how could he miss him with that golden glitter dusting his cheeks and arms and bare stomach catching the light? He’s pretty, the boy is, long legs and sex-tousled hair and plush ass that Steve wants to grab. He glances up at the upper floor, where Steve holds court when he’s here, a slow, wicked smirk spreading across his red, red lips, eyes gleaming with interest and an invitation both. Steve shifts, spreading his legs further apart so the boy can catch a glimpse, limited as it is from the floor, of the bulge in his black slacks.
The boy’s mouth parts, and he runs his hands up his stomach and over his chest, ending at his nipples, and Steve just knows that he’s plucking at the metal rings in them—pure gold, of course. Steve wouldn’t buy anything less for the boy—his boy.
Words: 2229, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 56 of Tumblr Prompts, Part 5 of Alle's Version
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Mob Boss Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Mob, Age Difference, Twink Tony Stark, Public Sex, Frottage, Tony Stark is a brat, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Tony Stark, but they're soft for each other, Established Relationship, Possessive Steve Rogers, Tony is here to cause problems on purpose
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/41977752
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Epi's Gay Little Pinned Post
About the Author
Name's Epi; they/she, 32, multishipper of the "if the dynamic hits right, I'll ship it" variety. Hawkeye is my favorite Avenger; don't worry, I am aware he sucks ass. You'll never manage to offend me over petty fandom shit and that's a threat ✨
Literally everything I write is explicit, so please don't follow me, look at me, or breathe in my general direction if you're under 18, and you 18-25 year olds are on thin fucking ice.
Asks are open for requests, prompts, and just to say hey.
Everything I write will get posted to my Ao3 (eventually); I simply don't feel safe hosting my work elsewhere.
Things I Won't Write:
Fandom bitches are too weak in the year of our lord 2022 to even come close enough to the things I won't write to bother listing them. If you're thinking the most fucked up thought you've ever come up with, I'll probably still write it because it's not even close to the things I used to write back during my LJ kink meme days or the things I read on the Kristen Archives.
Oh wait, there are a couple actually:
G-rated fic
T-rated fic
Things I Love To Write:
MCD/Angst
Drug Use/Drinking
Underage/Age Gap/Age Difference
Incest
Non-Con/Dub-Con
Genderbends/Women/Feminine Pussy-Havers
Lesbian Sex
Favorite Ships:
Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Stephen Strange/Tony Stark
Peter Parker/Stephen Strange
Loki Laufeyson/Thor Odinson
Peter Parker/Quentin Beck
Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Tony Stark/Bruce Banner
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