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randomshyperson · 7 months

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Party Monster - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #01

Summary: A Halloween party takes an interesting turn when Wanda reunites with her ex-girlfriend. Maybe she'll learn a lesson or two, or maybe she'll still be terrible at following orders.

Warnings: (+18), Dom!Reader with Brat!Wanda, ex-girlfriends who are not over each other at all, really rough smut with teasing and orgasm denial, a lot of cursing, power dynamics, toxic behavior, unhealthy relationship (implied), the “cheating vs we are on a break” dilemma, mentions of a party atmosphere but no explicit alcohol consumption mentioned, Ghostface mask during smut scene ‘cause I’m a simp for Amber Freeman. | Words: 2.688k

A/N- Someone needs to get slasher movies away from me, but I thought this would be a good theme for kinktober. And we started with dom!Reader too because it’s a tradition. Good reading by the way, your horny people.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was definitely a bad idea.

Terrible, poorly thought-out, and reckless.

But Wanda finished putting the costume together and the final touch - the black gloves - made her take a deep breath, trying to gain a little confidence in her Halloween costume.

In the bedroom mirror, there was still a photograph that she knew she should have taken from there to at least fool herself that she could move on, but just as she had done dozens of times before, Wanda adjusted the item to prevent it from falling.

Your smiling figure stares back at her, and Wanda sighs softly, ready to party.

She crossed the campus in half an hour, alone because the girls went ahead and honestly, Wanda wasn't that close to her friends nowadays. Not since the break-up anyway.

"Hey, Wanda!" The male voice shouting her name startles her for a moment. But she forces a smile as she is enveloped in a strong hug, Steve Rogers entering her field of vision in the next second. He looked drunk when she got a closer look. "Glad you could make it."

The forced smile begins to bother her face, so Wanda stops, swallowing dryly and trying not to look so uncomfortable.

"Yeah, thanks." She mumbles awkwardly, nodding towards the open door, where the party seems even fuller and livelier. "Stark sure knows how to throw a party."

Steve laughs. "That he does." He says, looking ready to start small talk. Usually, he's as out of place as Wanda in crowded environments, but now he's got enough alcohol in his system to seem cool compared to the rest of the team's jocks, who stand out at parties with their eyes closed. "The guys are inside, come say hi and we can get you something to drink."

The non-existent details of the exact people who constituted the " guys " Steve was referring to made Wanda's stomach turn. But the blond had already grabbed her hand and was pulling her into the crowd, and frankly, Wanda wasn't going to make a scene.

She could handle the possibility of you being at the party, even if she hadn't seen you for four weeks. And three days, nineteen hours, and according to the clock by the beers, fifteen minutes.

"Guys, look who showed up!" Steve announces to the group at the ping pong tables. Wanda remembers the first year when you first visited the fraternity house and you made a joke about the number of expensive objects in the place, and she laughed even though she didn't really get the joke. God, she was so whipped back then.

The whole group looks at them at once. Wanda almost giggles at the scene, all the creative costumes are a sight to behold. Natasha in leather outfits similar to her sister's, or Tony in some kind of colorful armor. Thor dressed as the god after whom he was named, and Clint as a green archer.

And then there was you, with a ghostface mask around your neck so you could get to taste your drink.

You almost choke on the liquid when you meet Wanda's gaze, and she could consider it a personal victory. At least you looked as affected as she was.

It's obvious that the atmosphere gets heavy. Everyone there knows that you two broke up and that it wasn't a pretty thing. Or easy.

And maybe that's why Yelena hides a tense laugh behind her glass of drink and Natasha rushes over to greet Wanda and put an end to the scene.

The only person Wanda really wants to greet tonight puts her mask back on. You drop the glass and leave without saying anything, making the mood even worse.

Natasha clears her throat and strokes Wanda's arm gently. "Don't mind her, I, we, are happy to see you, sweetheart. I'll talk to her, enjoy the party."

It's sweet of Natasha to worry, but as the night goes on and you don't exchange a word, and you keep ignoring her, Wanda doesn't feel a bit better.

She tries to have a good time, but her gaze keeps seeking out your figure, which manages to evade her curiosity masterfully.

You disappear for a good few minutes after beer-pong, and Wanda begins to consider leaving. So she dismisses Bucky Barnes' story about a mess with the rival team and decides to be miserable in her bed instead of at a party full of strangers.

She turns into the corridor and there's a Ghostface cornering a pretty girl at the bottom of the stairs.

Anger blooms and dominates her actions before she can think about it. She lunges forward and grabs the figure by the cap of the costume, hard enough to almost knock the couple over.

The male's shout makes her wince.

"Are you fucking mental?" Complains the stranger in confusion and indignation.

"I-I, shit, I thought it was someone else" She stammers with wide eyes, walking backward, away from the confused couple.

The scene attracts the attention of a few people around, but she feels her back hit somebody and before she can turn around, two hands come around her waist and push her away from the angry guy.

Wanda blinks, and you shove him away harshly. "Back the fuck off, motherfucker."

The man snorts indignantly. By now, half the party is staring at the scene. "What the hell? She started it."

"And I'm finishing, fuck off." You cut him off coldly, and you probably wear that costume better than he does, because the guy hesitates and turns away to grab the girl's hand behind him, leaving without saying another word.

You turn your masked face to Wanda, and she feels hers burning with shame. All you do is shake your head in disbelief and take the hard way upstairs.

Wanda follows you without thinking about it.

She stops the bedroom door from closing with her hand and ignores your protest.

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't want to talk to you." You cut her off, holding up a finger. "I don't even want to look at you, Maximoff. Get the fuck out." You advance but Wanda is quicker. She closes the door behind her, and you end up pressing her into the wood by the arms.

You sigh heavily, as affected as she is.

"I thought it was you." She confesses in a shaky whisper, her hands trapped behind the body you kept squeezing. "I don't know what I'd do if I saw you with someone else."

You chuckle dryly, taking a step back. "Apparently you'd try to throw me to the ground."

Your attempt to pull away completely is interrupted - Wanda grabs your wrists, trying to get you to wrap your arms around her again. It becomes a struggle of pushing and impatient grunting. Until Wanda is forced against the bed, and her apologies break down into a dirty moan.

Your hand around her neck - in an attempt to get her to shut up and stop repeating what you don't want to hear - has a very different effect.

You're on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with your own body. Wanda thinks you can feel how wet she is against your thigh.

"Don't make a fucking sound. I don't want to hear you, understand?" You warn, the loosest grip on her throat to allow her to breathe. Wanda nods obediently and has to bite her lip hard when you pull up her skirt, only to grope for her panties.

Silence is an impossible task, especially when your fingers, so eager and familiar, thrust into her without warning. She squirms, throbbing in your fingerprints, and the sigh of pleasure is yours.

"Fuck, I've missed your pussy." You pant, fucking her carelessly, hard, and deep. The sound of Wanda's soaked arousal makes her ears burn - but she doesn't mind. She's busy trying to keep still, even when you're driving her over the edge so quickly. You notice, of course, and pull out as soon as she's ready to let go, and Wanda breaks into a loud whimper, her hips thrusting restlessly into the air.

You let go of her throat to grab her cheeks. "You're not going to come, Wanda. You don't deserve it. And you know why, don't you?"

Her pussy is throbbing, enough to be almost painful, knocking her out of orbit. All she can do is whimper, nodding; you let out a wicked chuckle. "And why don't you deserve it, darling?"

Of course, you'd make her admit it. Because everything so far hasn't been hell enough. Wanda turns her face away, and with her silence, a slap hits her pussy. She spasms, moaning loudly, her back arched in the mattress.

She almost came in one go. Holding onto the edge at the last second.

"Oh god please." She whimpers shamelessly, and you grunt, watching the wetness ooze down her thighs, her pussy clenching against the emptiness in front of you. Wanda wants to come so badly that you almost feel sorry for her. "Just... one time. I'll do whatever you want."

You chuckle, and spread her legs a lit more to fit your body, pressing her against the bed. The friction between your joined hips makes her groan, trying to grind up onto you, but you remain firm, holding her still.

"Tell me." You demand. "Why aren't you allowed to come?"

She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I... I can't."

You sigh impatiently and walk away at once. Wanda almost cries at the lack of contact.

"Get out of my room."

"N-no, please-"

"Then say it!"

Despite her shame, Wanda swallows her tears. "I fucked up."

You chuckle coldly, busy opening a drawer. "Clarify it." You command, and Wanda only obeys because she knows very well what's in the last drawer of your bedside table, she can feel herself clenching for the feeling. With a dry throat, and looking brazenly at what you're wrapping around your waist, she retorts: "I fucked someone else." She murmurs, biting her lip when the hardness is properly fitted. You laugh dryly.

"Hm, and why did you do that?"

Wanda spreads out on the bed, a bait. You don't fall for it. She pants in anticipation. "I wanted to get a reaction out of you. We're on a break. I wanted you to regret it."

Your hand begins to slowly masturbate the dildo and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, becoming even more aroused by the image.

“I’m the one who will make you regret it.” It is your final clarification. But Wanda gasps.

"Take your mask off, I want to look at you."

But you chuckle again, darkly enough for Wanda to shudder. "What you want doesn't matter to me anymore." You retort, and Wanda has no room for hurt now, the lust and longing for the feel of your body on hers taking over all her senses. "Get on all fours, you’re gonna watch yourself."

Wanda moves on trembling limbs, her face burning. She tries to ignore the mirror in the corner of the room, but as soon as you're behind her, your hand grabs her hair and forces her head up.

The Ghostface mask stares back at her. "You're going to watch me fuck your needy pussy and you're not going to cum, Wanda. No matter how much you want it, how much you beg for it." You warn sternly, your free hand adjusting the toy at her entrance. "Because petty, selfish girls who ruin a three-year fucking relationship don't deserve to come, do they?"

She shakes her head, at this point, she thinks she'll agree to anything you say. And you must understand that pleasure has gotten the better of her because you start masturbating her entrance with the tip of the fake cock and it's enough for her knees to give way. She whines in a plea.

"Please-"

You sink into her at once, filling her to the brim and Wanda moans throatily, her hands clutching the sheets. The last time you were this deep, playing power games, Wanda squirted on the new sheets, and she's not sure that after going a month without touching you, she can stop it from happening again. "God."

You chuckle hoarsely, seeming to have the best time in the world with this. You pull out of her only to enter again, slow enough for Wanda to let out a sob. "Hold it."

"I-I can't." She cries out, choking on her own breath, and instead of taking pity, you sink in again, picking up a rough pace. Wanda would have fallen onto the mattress, but you grab her hair again and force her to watch what's happening.

"Look how beautiful you are when you're being properly fucked." You tease, your hips never failing against her. Wanda can only moan in return, each second more impossible to stop the knot in her belly from bursting. "I know no one makes you this wet, Wanda. No one knows your body like I do." To prove a point, your hand slips between her legs, and eager fingers flick her neglected clit exactly in the way that makes her squeal to the ceiling.

Thank God for the loud sound of Tony Stark's parties.

Wanda is sure she's going to cum by now, and you can tell because you've been through this hundreds of times, and you know her body like the back of your hand. The fake cock slides out the second she's ready to let it go, and Wanda collapses flaccidly onto the bed with the lack of your hands while unable to hold back her tears.

"Fuck you, I hate you, I fucking hate you, you bitch." She babbled breathlessly, the frustration of her second stolen orgasm of the night making her groggy. You chuckle as she squirms on the bed, hugging her own body, and Wanda doesn't even notice that you've moved away just to lock the door.

Wanda is still trying to catch her breath when you remove the mask in one pull and kneel in front of her on the bed, between her legs which you pull open.

You don't give her a chance to prepare, you move in and start eagerly fucking her pussy, ignoring how Wanda writhes on the bed and muffles her moans in the mattress.

"Oh my god." She meows, her knuckles clutching the sheets, and the only thing stopping her thighs from closing against your head are your hands holding her tight. "I c-can't hold it, detka! 'can't-"

You stop again, and Wanda thinks she might kill you. This time, you sigh into her. "Hold it, or I swear to God I'll switch to another college."

Wanda is forced to chuckle at that. It's stilted and hoarse, and she knows there's a grain of truth in your words, but she does it anyway. Even more annoyed, you stand up.

She despairs but is giggling nervously. "No, wait, babe, I'll behave, I promise."

It's your turn to chuckle, in disbelief at the scene. Wanda clung to you as if your departure was the worst thing in the world.

"You're a lying brat, Wanda." You say, and despite the harsh words, your hand gently strokes her hair. Wanda sighs shakily, the redness in her cheeks showing how much she enjoyed the words. You push her hands away and take two steps back. Far enough, you quickly untie the item from around your waist. "I'm going back to the party. And if you want to cum tonight, you'll stay here. Waiting like a good girl."

She opens her mouth to protest, but you hold up a finger in warning, and the seriousness in your gaze is enough for her to know that if she disobeys now, you'll send her away.

Swallowing dryly, she lets you go, and when the door closes, she throws herself back on the mattress.

Her body’s on fire, and the traces of your shampoo on the pillow don't help. She moans low, adjusting to touch herself.

Maybe, just maybe, you won't mind if she comes while looking at your picture on the bedside table.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff oneshots #kinktober 2023 #wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader

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eviesaurusrex · 1 year

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ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader

summary: It’s not his first birthday after Hydra, but the first birthday he thinks he actually wants to celebrate—only because of YN.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nothing, fluff, Bucky is a simp for his girl, not entirely proofread

author’s note: It’s Bucky’s birthday!! And sorry for being a simp for the “my best friend's younger sister is my girlfriend” trope.

***

Within a blink of an eye, the woman turned off the vibrating alarm on her watch in order to not disturb the finally deeply sleeping super soldier who rested on his side and had the pair of strong arms he called his own tightly wrapped around her still tired body. Her eyes slowly and tenderly wandered over his relaxed face, void of any haunting thought that might linger somewhere in his mind and entirely at ease with the world—for now. Only a few hours earlier, she had struggled to even get him to lay down and at least try to rest a bit after another nightmare had shaken his entire soul only a few short moments after he had fallen asleep for the first time that night.

Soft knuckles gently, barely palpable, caressed his cheek, already covered in new dark stubbles before even softer lips pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of his perfect mouth with those tender lips of his. A low chuckle escaped the woman at the sight of them morphing into a half-smile, and she desperately hoped that the man dreamed of something far more pleasant than his mind tended to grant him.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” she whispered, even too quietly for her own enhanced hearing, trying everything not to wake him in the middle of the night and detangling her body out of his embrace. With a soft smile, YN put the pillow she always rested on closer to his face and sneaked around the bed in their shared room in order to light the candle Bucky was stubbornly convinced it smelled exactly like her. She wasn’t sure about that, but whatever helped him to have a few uninterrupted hours of sleep, she did—even if it meant raiding every single Bath & Body Works in the Tri-State area.

Yes, she even sacrificed herself and went to those in New Jersey.

Before the woman sneaked out of their bedroom, covered in sweatpants and one of Bucky’s Henley shirts, she couldn’t stop herself from bending over his sleeping form once more and pressing a gentle kiss to his soft dark strand. Then, she was able to leave him behind for now, pressing herself in between the thin crack between the door and doorframe she had created, so the always brightly lit hallways wouldn’t disturb the soldier in his much-needed rest.

Humming, YN walked down the hallways, took the elevator, and went straight into the grand, perfectly stocked, and just as well equipped kitchen of the compound with a mission in mind. She knew that Bucky hadn’t had a proper birthday since their time way back—she remembered the last one as if it had been only yesterday, even though over seventy years had passed since that day. Since his return to his self and since his rehabilitation, no one seemed to think of his birthday as a day he wanted to celebrate with others—Bucky, at the very least. But since a few weeks or even months, the soldier had dropped hints that he might be ready to do this again, to celebrate the day he was born.

Maybe it was partly her doing, but YN wasn’t as self-consumed to assume anything like that, so she only had gathered the clues and hints her boyfriend had scattered casually throughout their conversations and came up with a plan. That was why the younger Rogers was up on her feet at four in the morning and prepared the recipe for the cake she intended to bake for the man upstairs before everyone would woke up one after the other. And because he knew his habits better than anyone else—well, except for her brother, maybe—she had to be as early and fast as possible to get everything done before his morning run with Steve.

But YN ran out of luck after the three cake bases had wandered into the oven, and she had turned to the preparations of the cream filling.

Her ears would’ve usually picked up to the soft padding of feet on the floor, but her mind visited deep and hidden places while every step of getting the cream perfect was utter instinct and didn’t need the assistance of her thoughts. So Bucky was able to sneak up onto her and stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, watching his girl do what she always had loved the most, observing her distant eyes and soft expression ingrained in her pretty face. He could feel his heart flutter at the absolutely domestic sight in front of him, and the former Winter Soldier knew that he finally had found his home, the place where he wanted to stay and with whom he wanted to grow old.

It was her doing why he wanted to try and celebrate his birthday again. The past still belonged to him, yes, but YN made every single day brighter than the one before and made him finally realize and see that his past wasn’t his fault—just as her past wasn’t her fault either. They probably had helped each other better as every single of their mandatory therapy sessions combined. The shadows and memories still haunted him, maybe worse than hers, but it had gotten better, especially after he had found the courage to ask her for a shared bedroom.

A smile tucked at his lips as Bucky slowly walked over to the humming woman and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her lovingly against his chest, and chuckled deeply at the surprised gasp. “Someday, you’ll be my death.” A soft laugh followed YN’s words, and the soldier bent down to press a kiss to her right shoulder, inhaling her soothing scent mixed with his own and the aroma of the cake baking in his back. “It’s not my fault that your mind is always so occupied, doll,” he grinned and wrapped his arms tighter around her middle, pulling her even closer to him before pressing a kiss to her neck and one to her cheek.

“Good morning,” Bucky greeted her in a soft mumble as he always did and let her turn in his arms after she had stirred the filling one last time. Her smile was as radiant as the rising sun outside the window, and Bucky felt lovestruck again—just as the day all those decades ago when he finally realized that he had fallen in love with his best friend’s younger sister, who always had been off-limits for him. His heart ached so beautifully as she pulled him down towards her and pressed their lips together in the softest of kisses, her fingers carding through his hair, bringing him comfort to an extent he had never thought possible again.

“Happy Birthday, love.” It was only a whisper against his lips, but he could hear every single emotion swimming in those three words, making his heart race and jump in joy and love. A smile widened on his face and made him kiss YN another time. “Thank you, darlin’,” he whispered back and let her cradle his face in the palms of her hands, chuckling softly as kisses rained down on his skin. “This was supposed to be a surprise, but hey, I knew I couldn’t be so lucky. I didn’t wake you, though, right?” Bucky shook his head and kissed her forehead gently. “Jus’ woke up because you weren’t there anymore. And stop trying to fool my sleepy head with that pillow you always push closer to me. It’s not even close competition to how it feels when I hold your body, doll. But… thanks for lighting up the candle.”

These candles were a lifesaver for him every time YN had to go on a mission to which he wasn’t assigned. It helped to push back the dreams and loneliness, the dark thoughts and memories. Sometimes he even managed to go through a two-week-long mission of hers without a single nightmare—but a vanishing stock of candles was the result of it. At least it always meant hour-long dates in the city to restock his supply of YN-candles, as he liked to call them, and uninterrupted time with his girl.

YN smiled up at him and tenderly stroked through his hair and over his cheek. “Of course, love. Nothing to thank me for. And I will try to keep the pillow-thing in mind.” They both grinned before the timer at the oven alarmed them both. “Wanna watch while I finish up your cake? But you have to promise me to act all surprised and flattered later on.” YN threatened him with the spatula covered in cream and made him laugh, just as she had hoped. “Only when I get to try this masterpiece right now.” With that, she playfully rolled her eyes and dipped a finger into the filling to let him taste his favorite flavors. And Bucky was eager to suck every bit off her finger while holding eye contact, which made her all flustered and blushing in the middle of the kitchen. “Perfect,” he huskily whispered and leaned down for a kiss, but YN pressed a hand against his chest and only pecked his cheek innocently. “I know what you’re trying, Barnes, and this will only happen tonight. Not now, not between presents, not before or after blowing out the candles and cutting the cake. Tonight.”

The Barnes laughed wholeheartedly and still pulled her close to his side, pressing a tender kiss to her sweet lips. “Whatever you command, Agent Rogers.”

***

Only something short (and shitty) for my beloved birthday boy (I’m so sorry for this mess of words up there). I really need to continue the stuff for him I still have sitting around because I miss some Bucky magic on my blog. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!

Taglist: @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @lastwandastan @hopefulinlove

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ramp-it-up · 8 months

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Greater

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Word count:~3K

Summary: You let Steve know how you felt about him leaving you hanging.

This is part two to Great.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, angst, secrets, sexual frustration,allusion to dildos, Captain/Sir kink, praise/degradation kink, tight t-shirt and grey sweats on Steve, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral, make receiving, face slapping. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

———-

Steve knew he should have avoided you when he came through the hotel lobby after his run to go back up to the room, but you eating breakfast solo on the terrace made him feel some kind of way. He watched as you gazed out over the Gulf of Genoa, feeling like a heel for leaving you in bed alone, but if he had stayed, you two would still be there.

Having you the way he did last night did not help his heart problem right now. You were taking up too much space in it, and he was afraid that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. It couldn’t be. It was too soon for you. He’d fallen for you the moment he first saw you, and you didn’t even know when that was.

Your sister Aria, as clueless as she was, told your story: you hadn’t been with a man in a long time. Last night was just dumb luck for Steve, and physical need for you.

Being forced to stay in a space with such close quarters presented him the opportunity to get close to you, but it was disconcerting. He didn’t expect to be able to touch and kiss your most intimate places last night, but giving you pleasure was everything he’d dreamed of and more.

After putting you right to sleep, Steve felt a sense of accomplishment. But as he held you, he felt like a fraud, and soon escaped to go for a run on the beach to clear his head and calm his body.

Steve wanted nothing more than to give you more of the physical, which you clearly wanted. But what you needed was the truth. What he needed was your heart.

He looked down at his watch when he got a notification that Bucky had texted and planned to escape to the room, but when he looked back up, he was caught.

——

After you awoke in bed alone, you got out of bed and showered, frustrated. And why wouldn't you be?

Steve gave you the best head of your life last night, didn’t let you return the favor, and then ghosted you. You looked in the mirror and tried to figure out if your pussy was broken or something.

At least Jake appreciated it.

You nodded as you tried to convince yourself that a hunk of latex was sentient.

Aria texted you that she and Topher were staying in their suite today, and to reschedule the yacht ride. Your troubles were forgotten as you once again tried to move heaven and earth for your darling little superstar sister.

Aria’s change of plans, despite being a pain in the ass, was a definite plus. You could spend the day exploring this beautiful town on your own.

You sat on the terrace solo, after trying in vain to obtain another room in the sold out resort. You were torn between pettiness and being a simp for Steve Rogers. The sound of the ocean sent your mind drifting back to the night before, how good Steve’s hands and mouth felt on you. You shivered, and you felt the hair raise on the back of your neck.

You looked around, and finally, behind you, to catch Steve’s eyes, as blue as the Gulf, watching you. You gulped, and before you could stop yourself, waved him over. You saw him blanch, hesitate, but come over. You frowned.

He clearly couldn’t stand you, but you were going to set the record straight.

You weren't going to spend this whole week on pins and needles with him.

No way.

—--

Steve approached you hesitantly, squaring his shoulders to combat his nerves. He stood before you in military posture, hands behind his back. When you looked him up and down and raised your eyebrow, almost ready for anything, he couldn’t help the smile that began to form on his face.

You were trouble.

You watched Steve approach and your stomach did a somersault. Damn, he was fine. The sweat at the collar of his t-shirt, which was hanging on to his torso for dear life, was some kind of powerful magic. Your panties were about as damp. And when he stopped in front of you, perfect posture, cock so close, well, it took serious willpower to not get down on your knees in front of all these people.

You looked up at his sexy smirk. Damn him. You needed to know what was up.

“Morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?”

You crossed your legs, making his eyes follow the motion, and it was then that he gulped, fantasizing about reaching down and grabbing you up to take you back to bed.

“I slept very well, Steve, but did not wake up that way? Please, sit down. We need to talk.”

The words tumbled out before you had a chance to think, and you frowned.

Steve watched your face as he took a seat. You were not happy. And it was never a good thing when someone said that phrase. He had a feeling he knew exactly the way this conversation was going to go.

“I know what you are going to say, last night was a mistake. And I agree with you.”

“Oh?”

You exhaled as you sat back in your seat. That is not what you were going to say at all, but you were glad that Steve was coming out with what he really felt.

“We were caught up in the moment, jet lag, emotional…and I… I took advantage of that. I’m sorry.”

Steve looked up at the waiter who’d appeared and ordered water. You sipped your mimosa as you watched him, the red creeping up from his neck to his face, his cheeks flushed.

He was being genuine.

And sweet.

Being in the entertainment industry as long as you had, you learned to read people quickly.

“Taking advantage of me would entail making me suck your cock like I wanted to, Captain Rogers. Not you eating me out like a pro. I feel like I took advantage of you?”

Steve’s eyes got wide as he gulped down his water. He coughed.

You watched that tongue dart out and lick those ruby red lips after he caught his breath. Whew, that side smile. You began to take this as a challenge. Steve’s words didn’t match his actions right now, and you were determined to find out why.

His deep voice gave you a clue.

“‘D’you like that?”

The way Steve was looking at you right now was everything. You smiled and leaned forward, noticing how his eyes went to your cleavage. The way his pupils were blown told you more.

You were beginning to change your mind about how Steve Rogers felt about you. He at least wanted your body. You had power.

“Yes, Captain.”

Steve almost moaned. The way you looked, your sultry tone, the fact that you said ‘making you suck his cock.’ He cleared his throat as your words raced around his brain. ‘…like you wanted to…, Captain…’

Fuck, he was screwed.

He straightened up.

“I mean… that wasn’t cool…”

You straightened up as well, jutting your breasts out as if an invitation. Steve shifted in his seat. You were making things hard for him.

“No. No it wasn’t…”

You pouted, thinking of the way he left you hanging.

“Fix that face, y/n.”

Holy hell. That command. He did want you to hit the ground right there. But you had to push back.

“Hmmmm. I guess I’m supposed to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ Or you’ll spank me like you promised…”

You smiled at him mischievously.

You were such a brat. You had to be stopped. Before he lost control again.

“I didn’t promise that, y/n…”

Steve’s voice was broken and he licked his lips before taking another drink of water.

“Oh? I thought you said that?”

You twirled your finger around the rim of your glass and then dipped two into your drink, placing them into your mouth and slowly pulling them out of those lips. Steve licked his in response

Steve knew what you were doing, but it was long past time to turn back now. Blood was rapidly leading his brain. He grunted unconsciously, determined to stay in control.

“I’m not doing this with you. I need to take a shower.”

Steve got up and stalked toward the elevators, and you sat, steaming, in your seat. You were shaking with emotion. You realized the true source of your frustration. You wanted Steve, you were sharing a room, and you were in a beautiful setting. You didn’t have to be a love match, but why not go for it?

You called the waiter over and asked him to charge your breakfast to the account.

~~~~~~~

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Steve wanted to pry them open to run back out to you. But space was the best answer right now. You were amping him up to do something reckless, something that would be irreversible. It was best that he kept his distance.

He entered the room and took off his shirt, going to the bathroom to turn on the water. He shook his head as he thought of you. You were such a menace.

When he turned around, there you were.

The look on Steve’s face was a little scary. You didn’t know if he was angry… or something else.

“....I need to get my…” Your eyes searched the bathroom. “...my lipgloss…”

You walked closer to him then turned toward the vanity and picked up a tube of your Glossbomb, leaning over toward the mirror, smearing a slick shiny across those lips.

Steve’s resolve began to crumble as he inhaled your scent and watched your lips shine. Your words came back to him. He wanted that mouth of yours.

You turned around.

“You didn’t answer my question, Captain.”

“What question was that, Doll?”

Steve moved closer to you, backing you up against the vanity. Your heart beat faster, but you pressed on.

“About the spanking…”

You felt dumb, but in a good way as Steve stared at you, seeing right through you. And then he smirked. He looked you up and down as he leaned forward and caged you in, hands on either side of you on the sink. Steam filled the room and came out of your ears.

“What I said was that I wanted to spank you when you were giving me attitude on the plane. Seems that was warranted. You don’t know when to stop.”

Steve’s voice broke as his breath fanned across your face. His mouth was so, so close to yours.

You sighed, and pouted again.

“I never stop, Captain. So does that make me a bad girl? I thought I was a good girl? It’s what you said last night.”

“I said that was a mistake.”

“What happened last night was a mistake, or saying that I’m a good girl?”

You were quick to reply as you cocked your head at him.

“Y’know, I wasn’t going to say that it was a mistake earlier. You put words in my mouth. That’s not what I want there…”

Steve slid his hand up your arm to your throat, and closed his fingers around it. It was nothing, almost, but enough to show you his power. You whimpered in his grip.

“You are maddening, you know that? You should leave well enough alone…”

You looked him in the eyes. You felt his hard cock against your stomach, even felt it jump as he searched your face and settled on your lips. You decided to try it.

“Let me go, and I’ll leave it alone… Don’t, and well, you can teach me how to be good again…”

Steve’s mind said to let you go, but it was his cock and his heart that made him do what he did next.

He whispered as he moved toward you, brushing the line of your jaw with his fingers. Your head was reeling from the sexy tone as you realized that he’d said, “Teach you a lesson…”

His lips slammed into yours, and his hands roamed your body, laying claim to what he wanted. You moaned as his tongue decimated you, letting him take what he wanted. When you separated, he asked you a question.

“What do you want in your mouth, y/n?”

“I want your cock in my mouth, Captain.”

“That sounds… “

Steve rested his forehead against yours. Your words gave him the image, and he couldn't resist. He cleared his throat again, then his blue eyes captured yours. Steel.

“Go sit on the edge of the bed…”

“Yes, Sir.”

The way he clenched his jaw had your pussy doing the same as you practically skipped to the next room and did as you were told. He was standing right in front of you again, running his palm down his hardness outside of his sweats. Your heart beat with anticipation.

You whined when he reached inside his sweats and pulled it out. It looked so big, so hard, the peach mushroom tip weeping and pretty, but big. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

The way you suddenly looked scared made Steve get even harder.

“You sure this is what you want?”

He was stroking his cock, and using his thumb to lubricate himself. He was restraining himself from touching you, but you didn’t know that, all that you saw was the sexy veins bulging down his arms as he jacked it in front of you.

“Y-yes…”

You reached for it and Steve moved closer, moaning when your small, cool hand closed around his hot throbbing staff. When you started pumping him was when his head started swimming.

“God, Doll…”

Your mouth fell open, those glossy lips a magnet for his cock. He didn’t know if you were leaning towards him, or if he were moving closer to you, but none of that mattered when your lips and tongue made contact.

He hissed at the sensation.

“SSsssss, y/n,”

He looked down at you as you stared up at him. You were entranced, his smell of musk and sweat was intoxicating.

“Those eyes. That mouth. Open. Wider.”

He had a grip on your chin, firmly pulling your jaw down to accommodate him.

As you kept eye contact, you saw a ferality that made you shiver. You wanted that look on you forever. You tried to unhinge your jaw as Steve slid his smooth cock inside your mouth.

He stopped once your mouth was full, but you continued, allowing his access to your throat.

“Ohhhhh. So goood...”

Steve pulled out of your mouth and stuck two fingers in, watching as you licked and sucked them, pumping his wet cock with your hand.

“That mouth. You’re not giving me any sass now, are you?”

He held your chin again and looked you in the eye, lighty slapping your jaw.

You gasped, then smiled and shook your head as you eagerly sucked along the side of his dick.

“No, Sir,” you replied, your mouth full of Steve.

You stuck your tongue out and deep throated him bobbing slowly as you pumped him with your hand.

“Go ahead. Get sloppy with it.”

You spit on his dick as you went to town, going faster when Steve gathered your hair in his hand and moved you at his preferred pace.

“Look at me when you do that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, thighs clenching at his tone.

“Look at you. Are you a slut for this cock already?”

You pulled off with a plop to spit again.

“Yes, Captain.”

And you started glugging him, moving your hand and making Steve’s knees weak.

“Holy Fuck, that’s good. Yessss.”

You smiled at the praise and started jacking him against your outstretched tongue.

“Yes, yes, yessss. Suck the tip again. That fucking mouth.”

You did as you were told, taking him inside and jacking what didn’t fit.

Steve started moaning and pulled your hair so that you looked up at him.

“Stop if you don’t want my cum in your mouth.”

You jacked him even faster.

“I want it, Captain..”

You slapped his cock against your lips and then resumed sucking as Steve grunted and buried his fingers in your hair.

“So… fucking… good… good girl…fuckkk! I’m cumming. Dirty girl. That mouth is so damn good.”

Steve was full of contradictory praise as he held his balls and you jacked his cock fast, allowing your mouth to make the most pornographic sounds around him.

“Oh! Oh shit ohshit oooooh oooohh shitttttt!”

You slowed down when you felt the first spurt against your tongue and you let it fall out of your mouth. Steve was hypnotized as he took his cock and pumped it into your mouth as you swallowed.

“What a dirty little girl. Good girl gone bad. You love this, don’t you?”

You nodded as you swallowed, your eyes tearing as the cum squirted into your throat.

“Fuuuuuucckkkk.”

Steve was profane as he watched you swallow it all and clean him up.

“That was amazing, Doll. Thank you.”

He reached down and traced your swollen lips with his thumb. He knew what you wanted, what you needed next. But there was really no turning back from that.

“I think we’re even now. I’m going to go take that shower.”

Steve turned and went back into the bathroom, leaving you to wonder which was greater, your need or your pride.

———

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neonovember · 29 days

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Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

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

divider by @firefly-graphics !

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

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

Bucky is quiet the ride over, dark steel greys surveying the road eagerly, like he was waiting for someone, or something to give him a reason to jump out and spill blood.

The wheel wains in his grip, and his dark hair falls over in waves, pushed back behind his ears and smelling of pine nut and mint. There's a hint of a smile on his face, he knows you're watching him.

You avert your gaze quickly, looking towards the mountain trees on either side of the asphalt road ahead.

The relief you had thought would fill you as Bucky pulls into the potholed road of your apartment is blank, and your chest fills vacant without the heat of it. Your mind is restless, and the entire ride over had given you ample time to think over everything that had happened earlier.

You had folded and unfolded every piece of information Bucky had told you about Steve and all it had done was make you feel like you were intruding, like you were given privy to something you had no right knowing. Like peeking through the cracks under closed doors as a child listening in on their parents.

Where your street had once been busy with loitering huddles of gaunt faced men, a quiet murmur settles over the ground floor of your apartment complex, all the way up to the hallway to your place.

And as you pass by a few stragglers who blanch when Bucky shifts his hard gaze towards them, stuttering over their own feet and rushing back to their alleyways, you have an inclination that it was all Steves doing.

His reach was absolute.

You didn’t know what to feel, you’ve known displacement for too long.

Separating from your betrothed, separated from the life you had been half folded into, separating from the very syllabus of your name.

The spaces between the letters get further and further as the years go by. Until you can hardly remember if your namesake is really yours, just a frightening sound that came out of your husband's mouth.

This is different though. Until now, your instinct has always been right. And yet, when you think of Steve? When you try to find footing in your gut it comes up wobbly and unsure.

Was he something more than he let on? Did he only uncover pieces of himself for his own benefit?

Bucky had told you he had lost his own wife, and young too. Forced to be exposed to the brutality of the world before he could even get a chance to indulge in youthful recklessness.

You feel a sense of empathy for him, but also, also surprise. It isn’t the murder, or your own husbands doing that causes a slight slip of your heart. The truth is much more foolish instead.

There was a time Steve was ready to forsake this entire life, live forever looking over his shoulder, turn back on tradition that was as deep as marrow, all for love.

You could laugh if you had remembered what that felt like. The thought outright unnerves you. Steve? The gluttonous leader who held sanctions of New York with an iron fist?

It drives a pit in your stomach when you think too hard about what it means.

There’s a fiery jealousy that swarms you, you had never understood the wielding power that love carried all your life. It was a feeling, just like any other was it not?

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

And all that swarms your mind is how it’s so unfair, that you’ve never experienced such a thing. That you may never will. Forced to succumb to the life that was only half yours, down a path so far the ground had changed beneath you.

What did it feel like to give in? To show all your misgivings with unabashed apprehension? To let yourself, all of it, to another person?

Anything close to a love like that had come from the faded memories of your father, his warmth and deep gritted protectiveness over you. And that had been stripped from you quicker that you were able to forsake it.

You suppose that wasn't meant to be dealt in your cards, which you had come to understand were drawn years ago. You lie to yourself, but during some nights the aching desire to feel something, to taste the deep gripping love that had caused even Steve to lose focus explodes deep in your gut.

Your longing for connection was something you hid well, and god didn’t you get awfully good at hiding these years? Fit yourself in nooks and crannies that were too small, smoothed out your jagged edges to click into the puzzle pieces.

And yet, the empathy you had silently shared, the intimate conversation you had had with Steve in your mind is stamped out with swiftness as Bucky walks you to your door.

That was then, now Steve had made it perfectly clear where he stood. The cool indifference and hardening this life caused had stolen any shine or hope that Steve may have held those years ago. Everything he did now was calculated, for the betterment of broadening his kingdom.

He might as well have died along with her.

Bucky leans against the hallway, eyes surveying the decrepit halls lit by overexerted linoleum lights. You hesitate a moment, before popping your keys into your door, twisting it this way and that to get it to open.

You flinched as the door opened wide, almost like you were expecting someone to be standing right behind it, waiting for your arrival before pouncing. You’re a child, waiting for the ghoul in the closet to jump out.

Yet all that is there is the same peeling walls of your small entryway and some shoes and a coat strewn to the side in your haste to get to the diner early those days before.

You’d much prefer the monster.

Days, it had only been days, so why did it feel like a lifetime since you stepped foot into your home?

You don’t know what you were expecting, for your apartment to change when you had been kept away from it unceremoniously? For someone to have cleaned out the dishes lying in the sink, and ruffle the pillows lying on your old sofa?

You had craved mundanity for so long, craved consistently at a time where you didn’t know which face of your husband you would meet those days.

When the monster living underneath your husband's skin would jump out.

But now, you crave something more. It simmers right under your skin, deep within your chest and its shadowy fingers flutter over every inch of you.

Your apprehension is evident by the way Bucky shifts his way towards you stuttering frame.

“Hey, I wouldn't be so keen on coming home to this place either. Those carpets don’t look that inviting" Bucky replies, there is a sight lilt in his voice as he drags his eyes across your depressing furnishing.

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

“Not everyone lives in an exorbitant palace you know” You gruffly reply, shuffling into your door in a way that was more spite than eagerness.

Bucky breaks out in a grin that takes up half his face, his hand stuffed into his suit pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

“Talking like a woman who hasn’t done just that half her life” Bucky replies, cocking his head to the side.

Oh right, your husband's estate that took up half of the city. One that was never, and would never be in your name.

You drop your handbag onto one of the hooks attached to the hallway, turning towards Bucky with a sigh.

“That’s different” You reply evenly

“Oh yeah? How so?” Bucky murmurs, eyes shining with a smile

“I was never welcomed in that home- house. God it would never be a home no matter how many architects and designers dressed it up. You think I escaped ‘cause it was my safe haven?” You cock your head to the side and Bucky’s face evens out. The smile adorning his features morphs back into his face as a look passes through his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that with Steve-”

“Oh yeah? Because he is the most upfront person to talk to. Right. This place, as depressing as it looks, is solely mine. It’s the only thing I have on this goddamn earth that hasn't been mauled and changed with my husband's fingers. Or the life he leads. You might not understand it, how important that is but-”

“I do. Trust me” Bucky replies, cutting you with and he offers you a nod that was more understanding than half the world's he promised to you.

Can I? You wonder thoughtfully. Was this just a part of some elaborate plan that Rumlow had clued you on? You were everywhere all at once, topsy turvy and turned inside out. This was the life you had to live now.

“Good” You say instead, wringing your fingers as Bucky’s phone begins to buzz from his pants pocket.

You wait for him to reach for it immediately, but he doesn't, just remains quiet as he taps his foot against the hardwood floor. There seemed to be a look of understanding that passed between you when he had racked his fist against the wall adjacent to your door.

The blues of his eyes twinkled under the sun peeking through the hallway window, and you didn’t realize it then but it was trust that shined in his eyes. Like the words he had shared with you warranted the same secrecy he held with the other men he worked with.

You had paid in flesh and blood for your silence, what more was another pound?

The ring runs through, and the silence soon returns between you both.

“I’m not going to the mouth off to half of Brooklyn that their most influential business man likes painting” You reply with a murmur, eyes darting left and right as if neighbors were listening in. Enough of them had watched you walk to your apartment door, eyes strained on Bucky and his shoes that shine too bright. Faces that had never even said hello had craned their necks as you passed, of course. Whispers of inquisition under their breath.

“I know you won’t” Bucky replies instantly. “Just- let him explain the rest of it, yeah? ‘S only fair you hear it from him”

“Fair?” You raise your eyebrows, “You’re talking about fairness now? Bullshit. If you were guided by some moral compass I wouldn't have been forced into this, you wouldn't even be in this life” You snark unconsciously.

Where does this all come from? You hadn't even raised an eyebrow at your husband, and now you were bad mouthing a man with a gun poking through his waistband. You look down, staring at the unusual stain in the hallway carpet you never quite knew what was. The anxiety and timidness you were used to coming back tenfold.

Bucky doesn't retaliate, just looks towards you with a feather-like smirk.

“I was wrong about you, y’know?” Bucky whispers, leaning in as if he were divulging in a secret he couldn't let be spoken in the open air.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re everything like Steve.” Bucky replies thoughtfully, a far away look taking over his dark features.

He’s miles away, reminiscing about parts of Steve that had been left in the dark. He looks younger than, when you notice the way his eyebrows scrunch and his locks fall flat over his face.

But it's enveloped back into Bucky in a second, a sad smile replacing his grin.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call”

Giving you one last nod, he turns back towards the hallway entrance and it takes you a few moments before you realise.

“But I don't have your number!” You call out, leaning out your door

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

“You sure about that?” A raise of his eyebrows at the ping of your phone, waving you with two fingers.

You don't have to pull it out to know it's him. And you can't help but let out a chuckle before turning back and shutting the door firmly.

You find yourself accompanying your time scrubbing down the floorboard and yellowed walls of your home, filling your hours since Bucky had left with meager tasks. It helps you think, concentrating on little chores around the house so you don't have to think about the thoughts that rattled loudly in your mind.

It’s still well into the morning, and as the sun filters through your drapes you lean back on your heels nodding accomplished at the glint of the shining floors. The walls were an impassive yellow, never yielding no matter what cleaning products you threw at them, but beyond the old entryway carpet the apartment was lined with pristine hardwood floors that shined with a little elbow grease.

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

Wiping the sweat that had grown increasingly uncomfortable above your brow, you make way to your small enclosed kitchenette, swiping a cup from the drying rack before you watch the water fill to its glass edge. You gulp half of it down, before your much needed break is interrupted by the faint buzzing of your phone emitted from somewhere in the living room.

You forage for it quickly, searching till you find it wedged between the cracks of your couch. You pause for a moment, considering whether it might be Bucky, or Steve calling but as you see the vibrating screen of your manager's face you slide the receiver across the screen.

You brace yourself for the inevitable screech of her voice, you haven't been to work in days, an irregular for you considering the mountain of bills that left your bank account squandered each month. You needed this job, and now Steve hand upended your life, you fear it’ll slip through your fingers.

Manager calls, you pick up, she’s very quiet and apprehensive and is all sweet in a a way you remember she never had been before. She’s almost scared to talk to you, asking about a shift you could cover and you say yea without thinking. You need a distraction. Even if Steve had made it clear you no longer needed to worry about work.

“Hello?” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the beat of silence that fills the space usually used up by ** loud un yielding demands.

“Y/N? Hey, how are you doing” Replies carefully, as if choosing her words.

“What?” You blurt out

You can’t help the confusion that puzzles your voice, who was this person? In the months you had spent working at that dead end job not once has she ever asked how you were. Not when you had spent half your break with your head in your toilet the first few months you had escaped. A cat on edge, nerves frazzled by even the slightest heavy stamp of a dress shoe.

What had changed?

You don’t have to kid yourself, you know the answer deep down. Him, it always goddamn is.

“Sorry, uhm I’m been doing good” You reply “I apologise for kind of just disappearing on you and the Diner”

“Oh that? That’s totally fine, once your friends cleared that up” 8 gulped, the sharp exhale of breath filling the receiver at the mention of this friend of yours.

“Friend?” You reply

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your doing alright. Uh-, so uhm ’s sister dropped her kids off at 4am last night at hers, she cant her shift. And * got SAT prep. Can you fill in if possible it’s totally okay if you can’t, I needed to stay back a few anyway-”

“Sure”

You needed the distraction, you felt stifled in the walls of your apartment. It wasn’t meant to be a prison, and yet the only time you felt truly free now was when you slammed the door behind you.

“-oh, Oh thank you! Thank you so much. If you could come in at 12, it’s just the afternoon shift. And if you need to leave for whatever reason it’s totally fine you don’t even have to tell me-“

“Mare?

“Yes?”

“Relax. I miss the diner and it’s crappy linoleum lights anyways”

Mare snorts into the receiver “The teams missing you too”

After passing a few more instructions on the wave of Russian tourists coming through Brooklyn this time of year you let your phone clatter onto the coffee table.

Sure, your manager could be a pain in the ass but being passive aggressive didn’t warrant a mob leader holding you at gunpoint.

You wonder what Steve had said to her to cause her to be this shaken up, she was the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met. It couldn’t have been easy to have her yield, at least not without some sort of real threat.

Especially in New York.

You rifle through your bag before grabbing your work uniform. The musty smell of old oil and grease makes you throw it haphazardly into the laundry basket before reaching for a clean shirt.

You try to look presentable, washing your face with the bathroom tap that never not juts out cold water. You avoid your reflection when you pay your face dry, which is interestingly enough, hard to do since it’s well..your face.

Drawing the wisps of coils that spring free you pull your hair back into a bun. You don’t bother with makeup, it never quite sat right on your face when you did it. Reaching for your bag and throwing your phone and the rest of your miscellaneous, you hurry down the steps of your apartment complex.

Popping in your earphones as you step into the train carriage, you memorise the dock and pull of the train ride till you feel your stop. Your music swims through your veins, and you breathe it in before opening your eyes to the tram doors opening.

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laythestar · 5 months

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You're my sweet sweet flower

Author's Notes: If you guys like it, I can write more of Mafia!Steve being a simp for reader <3

Words: 493.

Many would think that a man like Steve Rogers would be cold with his new girlfriend.

Mostly because he was the Head of the Mafia, they called him The Captain; the man that no one could defeat. He had connections with doctors, policemen and even people in the media like actors, models and journalists. Everyone feared Steve Rogers, because how could you predict the next step of the man that is always three steps ahead of you.

So it was a surprise to his men when they saw Steve be so sweet, so gentle and patient with his new girlfriend. Because unlike this relationship, Rogers was always aloof with his partners, always distant and always secretive to them.

“My flower, are you sure you don’t want me to buy these heels for you? You could wear them on our next date? They match that dress that I bought for you.” Steve spoke softly, caressing your arm while the two of you were scrolling through the app where you bought your clothes.

In the end, Steve managed to make you let him buy not only the heels, but the necklace that matched the heels, the earrings that matched the necklace and the purse that matched with the earrings. He was the leader of a Mafia, he knew how to persuade people.

His men continued to watch both of your interactions, the only one who was used to this was Bucky, but it was because he was literally the one that brought the two of you together (It were a hard work for him but in the end he succeeded in making his best friend achieve happiness).

It was a common thing for Steve to call you flower, they didn’t knew why he called you that, but you were called flower. He usually spent his free time on facetime just to know what you were doing, how was your vacation in Italy with your friends. If you were on your period Steve would order Bucky to buy everything you need and only Bucky was allowed to do this because no one else could know where your house was.

On Fridays Steve always bought flowers; red tulips, because he saw that it meant a declaration of love. And usually, the flowers were accompanied with some expensive chocolate. And if he couldn’t take you on your usual dinners, because of his meeting with his men or potential allies, Steve would be so heartbroken that you shouldn’t be surprised if he cancels all of the meetings he has the next day just to spend the entire day cuddling with you.

With all that, what the Steve Rogers’ men could see was that he was completely enamored with you, and if the hickeys on his neck could be any indication, you were also very passionate about him.

Well, at least their boss stopped being the aggressive person he was before he met you. So they consider this a win.

#black reader #chubby reader #mafia!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you

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evansbby · 1 year

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𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, daddy kink, dark Steve, lactation kink, breeding kink, a/b/o dynamics, some feet stuff, oral (female receiving), 18+ minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve is horny but you’re asleep. That doesn’t mean he won’t have his fun...

(𝑨/𝑵): This is heavy with the somno, so please beware of that! If it isn’t your cup of tea, feel free to ignore and move on!

It’s only 11 at night when Steve walks back into his house. Sam and Bucky are still at the party, but Steve had grown bored within an hour. The truth was, parties didn’t hit the same anymore. Just a bunch of drunk assholes and slutty cheerleaders grinding against each other in a dark haze of alcohol and weed. And as much as Steve tried to enjoy himself, his mind would always drift back to you.

His little omega, perfectly quiet and shy. Safe and sound in his bedroom (he’d locked the doors of the house before he’d left, lest you sneak out. Not that you ever would). Sometimes, he drags you along to these parties only because you look so deliciously uncomfortable and cling to him in the sexiest way. He also likes showing you off from time to time, knowing that the other alphas would kill to have you.

But mostly, Steve likes keeping you safe in his bedroom. He likes walking in to you studying on his desk or his bed, with your little Steve Junior under your arm. Wearing Steve’s old football jersey that completely dwarfs you, his mark on your neck peeking out from under your hair and reminding him of his complete and utter ownership over you.

Fuck, now Steve’s hard. He hopes you’re not asleep, because he can’t wait to sink into your tight little snatch, feel you squeeze around his cock like it’s your job. You’re always so ready for him, so needy for his dick and so snug around it, all weepy and grabby as your feral desire overtakes your shyness. Jesus fucking Christ, his dick is harder than a rock, and he all but sprints up to his bedroom.

You’re asleep. And goddamit, you look so fucking cute. Wrapped up in the comforter like a little burrito in the middle of his king-sized bed. Your head resting on Steve’s pillow rather than your own, and your Steve Junior teddy cuddled up in your arms. Steve feels his mouth quirk up into a smile before he stops himself – he’s no pussy simp! But you do look cute as fuck, so sweet and innocent. So different from all the other sluts he’s used to.

Slowly, Steve peels the comforter off your body before rolling his eyes because underneath that, you’ve covered yourself even further with your little fuzzy blanket that’s more ratty than it is fuzzy. Omegas and their damn nesting tendencies. Steve makes a mental note to order you a new blanket as he sheds this one off of you, only to be greeted by a host of stuffed animals covering your body in yet another layer that he has to get past.

“Fucking asshole toys.” He mutters, before shoving all your toys (except Steve Junior) into a haphazard heap on the floor, making sure to give one or two of them a hard punch in the face for being annoying.

And sure, Steve realises that his room is a lot more feminine now ever since you moved in – flowery bedsheets and stuffed animals everywhere and your beautiful perfumey scent covering everything he owns. But he doesn’t mind as much as he initially thought he would. When Sharon was his girlfriend, he never let her live with him but she would spend the night and try to mess with his stuff by putting her own things on his desk. Best believe, Steve would chuck her random shit in the trash, but you? You’re different.

“So fucking cute…” He murmurs to himself, watching you shiver and hold on tightly to Steve Junior, your nose digging into his fur and a sweet little frown on your face at the loss of warmth from the lack of comforter. He can’t help but stroke your cheek with his knuckles, loving how soft you are. So sweet and pretty and perfect. And most importantly, all his. Every inch of your body belongs to Steve, and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Baby, you have no idea how horny I am right now.” He tells you, continuing to stroke your face while you lay asleep on his pillow. He casually palms his dick with his other hand, already feeling like he’ll blow his load just from looking at you sleeping. “And look at you, fast asleep when you’re the one who gets daddy all riled up in the first place.”

“Steve?” You mumble, scrunching your nose cutely, and it looks like you’re stirring. But you only toss and turn a bit before getting comfortable again, and Steve resumes stroking your cheek for a while before his hand starts slipping down. Down past your delicate neck which bares not only his mark, but often also the imprints of his fingers after he’s choked you during a particularly rough fuck. Down to your chest, covered in his old jersey filled with holes.

He pushes the jersey up over your breasts, watching, almost hypnotised, as your nipples harden in the cool air. God, he loves your tits so fucking much, and you look so pretty all nude and bathing in the moonlight.

It reminds him of the early days, before he’d claimed you. Sometimes, he’d follow you home. Well, that ratty dorm room you called home. And it was all too easy to stand outside your window, watch you change because you were too dumb to draw your curtains. And those moments when you were bare, the moonlight painting you a pretty silver and you being completely unaware that Steve was watching you… Fuck, how beautiful you’d looked. And how hard Steve would cum every time he’d jack off to the memory.

Except not anymore, because now he has you in his bed. His own personal omega to do with as he pleases. Awake or asleep, it doesn’t matter to Steve – he owns you after all. In fact, you should thank him for being thoughtful and not waking you up. And a part of him does want to wake you up so he can fuck the living daylights out of you while you whine and cry all sleepily. But there’s just something about you, asleep and innocent, not knowing he’s watching you and touching you.

Fuck, he can’t help but lean down to suck your nipple. You’re practically begging for it, after all! Lying there with your nipples so hard they could cut glass. And you let out the cutest little whimper when his mouth latches onto one of your breasts, almost as if you’re having a dirty dream about him. Steve really hopes you are, because he has sex dreams about you all the time. He has ever since he first saw you.

“God, your tits are so sexy, baby.” He tells you as he squeezes and sucks. And Steve loves sucking your nipples, he could do it for hours if it was feasible. He loves how you card your fingers through his hair (when you’re awake, that is) and press his face more into your breasts while you whine like a baby. Sometimes, he likes to pretend you’re pregnant and he’s sucking your milk as you let him feed from you. God, that would be so fucking sexy – he can’t wait till he knocks you up.

“Mmhmm.” You mumble in your sleep, and Steve smirks against your nipple, licking and biting and grazing his teeth against it, sucking your whole breast into his mouth obscenely, wishing he had set his camera up so he could’ve got all of this on tape. And then he’d make you watch it tomorrow morning and threaten to post it online. (Not that he ever would, but he loves making you cry and beg).

“Daddy knows,” He tells you when he glances up to see you still asleep but your lips have formed the shape of an ‘o’ and there’s a tell-tale furrow between your brow. “Daddy knows what a dirty girl you are, how you like it when I use your body while you sleep.” He switches to your other breast, wanting to bite down hard but knowing you’d wake up if he did. He squeezes and pushes your tits together as he sucks obscenely, his hard dick poking against your leg through his jeans as he hovers over you. Damn, he can’t wait till you’re pregnant and lactating, and your tits would be so fucking huge and heavy when you’d breastfeed him.

“God, you’re teasing me, aren’t you, baby omega?” Steve lets go of your nipple with a pop, admiring his saliva shining all over your bare breasts. “You just had to look all sexy while you slept, didn’t you? It’s all your fault that I have to use you like this, baby. All your fault. But that’s okay, because daddy’s gonna make you feel good too.”

And with that, he continues exploring your body. Stroking and fondling and licking his way down your stomach, making sure to poke his tongue into your belly button. You shuffle a bit at that, but Steve holds your body in place and watches intently as you mumble something unintelligible before relaxing into deep sleep once more.

“Let’s see how wet your little baby pussy is, shall we?” Steve asks, and he can feel his excitement because his blood is rushing straight down to his dick. If he was hard before, he can’t even describe how uncomfortable his boner is now. Quickly, he undoes his fly and pulls his dick out, hissing in relief once his throbbing length bobs up against his abs.

He grabs your thighs, taking a moment to appreciate how soft you feel, before prying your legs apart. And he knows you’re not wearing any panties because he forbade you from doing so in bed. (He needs easy access at night and in the morning when he fucks you). And your bare pussy glistens in the moonlight and fuck, Steve feels like a salivating animal. He gets the sudden feral urge to mount you and fuck you so hard, fill you up over and over again with his seed while you scream for him to stop because he’s being too rough.

Instead, Steve closes his eyes for a second and savours your sweet scent. God, your pussy smells so good. It’s like your scent but amplified. And the best part? You’re completely soaked. He can’t believe just how wet you are, your pussy glistening in the moonlight as you lay all spread out before him. You’ve even dripped down onto his sheets, leaving a damp patch underneath you and Steve is utterly transfixed.

“Naughty little baby, look at the mess you’ve made,” he scolds, giving your thigh a gentle slap. He wants to hit you harder but he knows you’ll wake up if he does. “Look how fucking soaked you are for daddy.” He glances down at his dick which he’s slowly pumping with his other hand. Instinctively, he swipes the bead of precum from the head of his cock and looks up at your face wickedly, “Daddy’s hard for you too, omega.”

He rubs his precum on your lower lip, breath hitching at the sexiness of it all. And you look so pretty and sleepy, immediately licking your lips and moaning softly while he stares at you with wide eyes. “Mmm,” you whimper, and it’s the sexiest little whimper ever. And, as if things couldn’t get any hotter, your lips latch onto his thumb, sucking his digit while Steve swears under his breath.

“You’re a little freak in the sheets even when you’re asleep, aren’t you?” He marvels, letting you suckle his thumb while his dick throbs with need. “God, none of the guys would believe what a slutty little thing you are behind closed doors. Sucking on daddy’s thumb like a little slut? And after I’ve fed you my cum? Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking sexy and you have no fucking idea, do you?”

You don’t answer, of course, but you pout in your sleep when he removes his thumb from your mouth. He gives your cheek a few condescending pats before refocusing on your pussy. Fuck, Steve’s practically salivating at your sweet little cunt all splayed out for him, and you’re none the wiser while you sleep, clutching that damned Steve Junior in your arms.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to dig in like he’s a starved man. His lips immediately latch around your clit, which is puffy and swollen and so cute. He sucks hard, eyes widening when you let out the loudest moan yet. But then you settle back down, still asleep, and Steve continues as if he’s famished and about to start a five-course-meal.

“Your cute little button’s all puffy, baby.” Steve tells you, “I wonder what you’re dreaming about that’s got you all worked up.” He puffs his chest out, “Well, I know it’s me. And tomorrow you’ll act all innocent like you always do, and stutter all cutely as if you aren’t acting like a little whore in heat right now.”

And sure enough, you’re steadily grinding down on Steve’s face, unconscious as ever but he just loves the feel of your wet cunt against his face. Half of him wants to flip both of you over so that you’re sitting on his face, completely smothering him with your sweet folds while he bites and sucks and probes and brings you to one orgasm after another.

Instead, he continues licking you, loving how your thrusts meet his licks, and how your quivering thighs limply wrap around his head. He spits, watching his saliva pool around your engorged clit before he gives it another hearty suck. And fuck, he knows your body so well, he knows you’re about to orgasm because of the way you start panting, and how your knees try to lock around his head.

And Steve pulls away, because you’re his and he’ll decide when (or if) you cum tonight. And he loves the little pout your lips form into, and how you frown in your sleep and clutch Steve Junior harder. “Slutty little omega…” Steve murmurs before trailing sloppy kisses down your thigh. Stroking the smooth skin of your calf before he grabs your ankle, and his gaze shifts and eyes grow darker.

He’s still jacking off with one hand, the other holding your leg as he carefully examines the anklet he’d gifted you a few days ago. It’s a dainty gold chain with charms that spell out his name. Steve Rogers. He’d instructed you to put it on and absolutely never take it off unless he told you to. It’s another reminder that you are completely and irrevocably his, an omega who is claimed property, and his first before anything else.

The anklet is amongst the many different ways he plans to own you. First was his mark on your neck, of course. Then this anklet that spells out his name. And then what? Maybe a necklace with his initials? Or a tattoo above your pussy that firmly states: “S.G.R”? God, his dick twitches at the very thought.

But the anklet looks so dainty around your ankle, and he gets the sudden urge to nuzzle your foot up against his face, the feeling going straight to his dick. He can’t help but admire your pretty feet, how he’d paid for you to get a pedicure and they’d painted your toes a pretty white colour. Fuck, so fucking sexy. He presses a kiss on each toe before his lips trail downwards, leaving wet kisses on the pad of your foot before licking a tantalising stripe down the instep of your heel.

Your entire body jolts, and Steve can practically sense your pussy clenching and releasing more of your wetness to drip down on the sheets below. Your sweet fucking cream staining his sheets because your baby pussy is getting turned on by your alpha kissing your feet. Steve can’t help but smirk, and wonders how he’ll tell you this tomorrow.

He takes his phone out and clicks on the camera, recording while grabbing your other foot and repeating the same actions. Pressing little butterfly kisses on each toe while you wiggle and squirm in your sleep. And then he licks up your foot, gently sucking on your toes while he tries not to groan at how sexy this is.

He lets go with a pop, throwing his phone aside while he smirks down at you, “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, baby. I know you did because I know what a slutty little girl you are.” He strokes your leg, “Don’t worry, daddy filmed it for my private collection. I’m sure you’ll love to see it tomorrow.”

He can just imagine how distraught and shy you’d be when he showed you the video, how you’d beg him to delete it. But he wouldn’t. He has almost hundreds of videos and pictures of you already taking up half the storage on his phone. He’s just so addicted to capturing you on film, addicted to how your naked body moves and responds to him. It’s fascinating, beautiful, so sexy and incredibly hot. And he can’t get enough.

Now, Steve crawls back up your body. And he knows he’s acting like a total creep, and that he could just wake you up and fuck you like how he usually does. But there’s something so vulnerable about you being fast asleep, and he’s nowhere near done playing with you.

You’re on your back, snoring softly into Steve Junior’s fur. But Steve gently manhandles you till you’re facedown, your stomach against the sheets and his favourite part of your body facing him. And he almost salivates at the sight of your bare ass, all cute and round and poking out at him as if you’re teasing him. As if you’re begging to be touched and groped and violated. (Not that it would be a violation, since Steve owns your body and can do with it what he pleases, and when he pleases).

He can’t help but give your ass cheek a firm little slap, watching with baited breath as you mumble something under your breath. Still asleep. He pinches and prods and squeezes to his heart’s desire, like your ass is his own personal toy. Which, in a way, it is. Under the dim moonlight, he can see his teeth-marks on your flesh where he’d bit you the last time he’d spanked you. He just couldn’t help it then, and his chest fills with pride now, hoping the mark will permanently mar your ass and remind you of who you belong to.

“Your sexy little ass is just begging to be fucked, omega.” Steve breathes, imagining how tight and sexy it would feel if he just shoved his dick up your ass. But instead, he leans down to give your smooth skin a light kiss, before turning you onto your back once more. And it’s crazy how deep of a sleeper you are, unperturbed by how he’s playing with your unconscious body which he jacks off.

“Steve…mhm…please…” You breathe softly, and the delicate sound goes straight to his dick. You were begging for his dick, even in your sleep. If that wasn’t the sexiest thing Steve had ever witnessed, he didn’t know what was.

“Oh. So you want me to take advantage of you while you sleep?” He tsks, giving your cheek another condescending pat. “What a naughty little girl you are, but I already knew that. You may be all innocent but that doesn’t mean you’re not a cock-hungry little slut when you’re under me.” He pinches your cheek and chuckles under his breath when you pout.

He carefully straddles your chest, making sure not to crush you with his weight. But now, he’s got his dick right above your sweet, sleeping face. He cant help but rub it against your cheeks and nose and forehead, making sure his scent and his precum is smeared all over your face. And fuck, he’s so ready to just blow his load.

“Slutty little omega…” Steve breathes, tracing the tip of his dick against your soft lips. And, as if on cue and by some fucking miracle, your lips part. Steve can’t believe it, “Good girl. That’s such a good little girl…” He praises you, inserting his tip into your mouth and watching in awe as you suckle it in your sleep.

“Mhm, daddy…” You moan sleepily, like a fucking porn-star or an actress at least. Steve is in complete awe at how whiny and needy you sound and it goes straight to his dick.

“That’s right, baby. Suck daddy’s dick like the obedient little slut you are.” He commands you, wanting to shove his whole length into your mouth but knowing he’d choke you if he did that. Instead, he lets you suck on his tip while he continues to jack off at the sight. With his other hand, he grabs yours and squeezes it, not really knowing why apart from the fact that he felt the need to do it.

He cums fast, and it’s no surprise since he’s been edging himself all this time whilst fondling your body. And he’s so used to cumming down your throat, that it takes all his willpower to pull out before he blows his load all over your face. And fuck, if it isn’t the sexiest thing in the world, your face coated in his cum, and you still don’t wake up.

“Fuckin’ cockslut.” Steve mutters under his breath, stopping to marvel at how beautiful you look before he gathers the cum on your cheek with his finger and slips it into your mouth, smirking when you suck it off obediently. Fuck, even in your sleep you’re obedient. He continues to feed you his cum until your face is somewhat clean (he leaves a bit of residue, something for you to wonder about in the morning). And then he climbs off you, something inside him compelling him to give you a soft kiss on the cheek for being such a good girl for him.

He takes a quick trip to the bathroom to piss and wash off before changing into a pair of sweats and returning. You’re still asleep, of course. It’s slightly alarming, what a deep sleeper you are, but you still look cute as fuck. You’re on his side of the bed, head resting on his pillow, and so he has to gently scoop you up and slip in underneath you before placing you down on his chest and covering the two of you with the heavy comforter.

“Steve? You’re home?” You say sleepily, cuddling up into his chest as his arms wrap around you. Your eyes are still shut and you seem to be half asleep still, and unaware of everything that’s just taken place in the past few minutes, but he can’t help but respond.

“Yeah. The party was boring.”

“Missed you.” You mumble softly into the hardness of his chest, and Steve feels a certain stirring deep down.

He yawns, “Oh yeah? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“Always miss you.”

And then you’re snoring softly once more, and Steve’s left to stare at the ceiling in pitch darkness. You’re still and content, cuddled up on his side and practically on top of him, with Steve Junior in your arms. Sound asleep. And Steve can’t help but hold you just a little bit tighter, and give you a soft kiss on your forehead, before he follows suit.

THE END!

Please do let me know what you think! I know this is a drabble but technically it isn’t bc it’s like 3.9k words!! So please do give feedback and tell me what you think and reblog and all that good stuff! Love you guys and I love writing for this pairing!!! I was hesitant to write more in Steve’s POV but I just focused on his horniness and not on any emotional stuff!!! THANK YOU FOR READING BYE

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #poyt drabble

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