#steve rogers smutt
Note
Happy Sleepover lovely Kay!!
You know how I love me some Steve Rogers, I’d love to request him with the prompt…
“You have any idea how much I hated seeing someone else touch you.”
Please and thank you!
🌹
ericca!!! thanks for such a fun request ☺️ the inspo jumped out of me on this one (but my apologies for taking so long to get it posted!) and out came a sequel/follow-up to walking the wire!!
would def recommend reading that before you read this (if you haven’t already 😉)
tell me your troubles - steve rogers x fem!super soldier reader (phoenix)
word count: 3k
warnings: lil more than canon-typical violence (i like netflix marvel more than disney marvel these days can u tell), lowkey possessive!steve, heavy make outs, shower sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v (they’re supersoldiers ok but wrap it before you tap it) - also russian translations from google so if it’s not right I’M SORRY
Nat gives the order to fall back, and it goes against every fibre of Steve’s being to obey.
They have you. They have his girl.
It’s Nat’s op. She’s in charge, and he knows this isn’t her fault, that she’s not to blame for the fact that you’re not by his side right now, that you’re instead being hauled into the back of a large van, too-thick cuffs banding your arms behind your back. He’s having flashbacks to Berlin, to Bucky in a cage. They put a hood over your head, and you manage to catch his eye before your face disappears from view.
Go.
His every instinct is screaming at him to go after you, doubly so when the van starts to drive away. But there are bombs planted between you and him, obstructing his path. One wrong step, and no amount of super-soldier serum could save him from being blasted apart. And then where would that leave him?
Where would that leave you?
+
“I want a plan,” he spits as soon as they’re back at the makeshift base they’ve been calling home the last few months. It’s no Stark Tower, but there’s running water and a bed he’s shared with you most nights, a haphazard sign scrawled on the door — Cap & Phoenix. Bucky drew a little cartoon shield and a flame to go along with it.
He sees Nat bristle as he barks his order, but when her sharp gaze flicks to him, something in him softens. He tends to forget, that she cares for you on a similar level to his own affection. Not the same type granted, but the Widow holds you close to her heart, and despite Steve’s own confirmation that Nat’s not to blame for your kidnapping, he can see in her face that she doesn’t think the same.
“You didn’t do this, Nat,” he says, following her into the large office they’ve used to map out missions. Bucky and Sam make themselves scarce, disappearing from the corner of Steve’s vision. “We all knew there was a risk.”
“She was right there,” Nat replies, shaking her head, sinking into a crouch in front of the table, surveying the map you’d all reviewed before leaving. “She was right there, and I let them grab her.”
“We couldn’t have known they’d have the capability, the means to—”
“This is my fault, Steve.”
“It’s not,” he reiterates, hand clenched into a fist, knuckles pressed to the table. “I know it, Phoenix knows it. But letting it get the better of you isn’t going to bring her back. You think you made a mistake, then fix it. We find her.” He plants his other fist. “No matter the cost.”
Nat arches one perfect brow, and he can already see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “Sir, yes, sir.”
+
Tracking you down is the easy part; recovering you proves to be a touch more complicated.
Natasha’s plan is airtight this time, outright refusing to split the team, the four of them moving through the building silently. They have each other’s backs, and soon enough, they’ll have you. But it’s a maze from the moment they step in. The map they have is accurate, but it’s more heavily guarded than they’re anticipating. Nat and Bucky both put men down with acute precision — assassin precision — and Steve finds himself lagging behind Sam, his knuckles aching from the sheer number of punches he’s delivered.
Part of him feels naked without the shield. He gave it up for a reason, before he had you. It’s something he’s talked through over and over, you sprawled on his chest, chin propped on the back of your hand, watching him talk as he stares at the ceiling.
Talk to me, drevniy. Tell me your troubles.
That last night, before the mission went awry, it was the same. He’d talked himself in circles, until his voice went hoarse and he was losing himself to the soft press of your body against his, and then all he really wanted to lose himself in you instead, so he did.
You held him close after and murmured something in Russian he couldn’t quite make out. He lifted his head to ask you what the words meant, but you kissed him before he could get the question out, and you’d drifted off to sleep a few minutes later. He didn’t have the heart to wake you.
Damn the shield, he thinks now, trying not to flinch when Bucky pulls the trigger on his gun, more men dropping to the floor. Damn it all.
They round a corner, and Steve nearly crashes into Nat’s stalled figure.
“Hello, Captain.”
You’re strapped to a chair. Restrained nearly the exact same way that Bucky was back in Berlin. Only him, the man Steve had watched cart you away, he’s got his hand knotted in the back of your hair, your head yanked back, your throat bared, a large knife pressed against it. It could be steel, but Steve would bet good money it’s vibranium.
Steve darts forward, but Nat throw her hand out, stopping him. She tilts her chin imperceptibly, and Steve’s eyes follow the direction, spotting a generator in the far corner. From the corner of his gaze, he sees Bucky catch on, and wordlessly, the plan is formed.
“Let her go,” Steve calls to your captor, and when the man starts laughing, Bucky slinks into the shadows, towards the generator. Nat raises her gun, aiming at the thugs flanking either side of your captor, and Steve’s hands clench into tighter fists.
“I would not do that if I were you, Captain Rogers,” the man taunts, waving a finger in the air. “You have not even heard the bargain I propose, for the return of your sweet Phoenix.”
“I don’t make it a habit of bargaining with kidnappers,” Steve returns, and the man yanks your hair back harder. He can hear your slight whimper from where he stands. “Let her go, and maybe I let you live.” From the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky near the generator, hidden by the shadows — perks of super-soldier sight and stealth.
The man starts laughing. He sees the glint of the knife press against your neck, and a single drop of blood beads along the blade. Nat’s eyes cut to Steve’s, he nods, and Bucky’s metal fist connects with the generator, sparks flying as the room is plunged into darkness.
It comes in flashes. Bullets spark through the air as Nat takes down the two thugs who have started running for them. Bucky shoots forward, yanking the metal away from where it’s restraining your arms and pulls you out of the chair. Steve disarms your captor, the knife now streaked with your blood, but before he can do anything else, you grab it from him, whipping it over your shoulder. The blade buries itself in your captor’s chest, and the man drops instantly.
Steve reaches for you, hauling you into his arms, and you cling to him as you all turn tail, heading out of the building. It’s not until you reach the Quinjet that Steve finally feels relief, but remembers the blood and takes you to the back of the jet while Nat and Bucky prepare for takeoff.
“Let me see,” he murmurs, and wordlessly, you push your hair away, baring your neck to him. The scratch is barely visible, already just the remnant of a scar, but Steve knows it won’t go away, not completely. He wipes the blood gingerly from your skin, his movements gentle even though he knows he can��t hurt you, not truly.
His brow furrows as he looks the rest of you over. There are no other obvious injuries, or evidence of them. Your clothing is tattered, dirt and grime smeared on your skin, and there’s a brightness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a long time — not since they pulled you out of that lab.
“I’m fine, drevniy,” you say, grabbing his wrist when his attention falls back to your neck, to the tiny scar now there. “It will take much more than a scratch like that to take me from you.”
Steve bristles at the mere thought. He feels like a live wire suddenly, exposed, vulnerable. You tug on his hand, pulling his palm until it rests over your heart, until he can feel the rapid beat if it against his skin. You lean up, fitting your lips to his pulse, a soft kiss to his throat. His whole body feels tight as a bowstring, and while the feeling of you has soothed it some, he can’t shake it.
“Steve,” you call, your voice low, almost cajoling. Suddenly, he feels guilty. You’re the one who was kidnapped; he should be comforting you, not the other way around. The corner of your mouth lifts. “Tell me your troubles.”
He groans, and the tether on his restraint snaps. Both his hands move to your face, cupping your cheeks in his palms. He hears your quick intake of breath right before his mouth covers yours, and you sigh into him, your body relaxing almost completely in his grip.
“You have no idea,” you murmur, and the purr in your voice makes his tac pants grow tight, “how much I missed your touch.”
“Baby,” he nearly growls, pushing you back against the metal wall of the jet. You’re tucked in the corner now, out of sight of Nat and Bucky, and Steve’s plan forms quicker than Nat’s rescue had. “I need you right now.”
Your breath hitches high, the noise catching in your throat, and Steve’s hands drop from your face to your waist, tugging your hips until they’re flush with his. “Right now?” you ask, a teasing smile on your face. “Buck’s hearing is as good as yours is, Steve. You want him hearing you take what’s yours? Want him to know what I sound like?”
The reminder tugs his restraint back into place. Something deep in his chest, something feral and wild, growls in response. Mine. He lifts you until you’re high enough to wrap your legs around his hips and his fingers press into your sides, feeling the rush of your blood beneath your skin, the heat of it.
He kisses you until the jet touches down again.
+
As soon as the ramp lowers, he hauls you over his shoulder and stalks down it, his boots clanging against the metal. He barely hears Nat’s low chuckle behind him and grinds his teeth when you palms settle on the small of his back, fingers tapping random patterns against his skin.
Once you’re inside, he heads straight for the bathroom you’ve been sharing. You barely get a word out as he turns the water on, nearly as hot as it’ll go, just like you like it. When he turns back, you’re naked, and more relief blankets him when he sees you’re untouched, unscarred.
“You’re wearing too many clothes, Captain,” you grin, and Steve backs you against the wall, desperate to feel your bare skin against his. You bite your lip as his palms skim up your ribs, but he feels your hands on his belt, unhooking it with ease. But then the light in your eyes changes, and as his belt thunks to the floor, your hand roves up his chest, two fingers tucked under his chin, tilting his face to yours. “I knew you’d come for me.”
Something in his chest cracks. “Of course I did. I…”
He’d barely let himself feel it, when he saw you there, strapped to that chair, that man’s hands on you, the knife at your throat. The…intensity, the way he instantly knew he would do whatever was necessary to get you back. If Nat hadn’t pulled his focus, pointed out the more sensible path, he can only guess what might have happened, what mess he might have left behind.
Your palm, light against his cheek, pulls him out of his head. “Hey, come back to me,” you call, your voice so soft, so sincere, it pushes away the violence in his head, the guilt that threatens to brew over things he hasn’t even done. “I’m here, krasivyy. Alive. Intact. Yours.” You get closer, your nose brushing his, lips grazing his when you speak. “Only yours.”
“Mine,” he repeats, like the word might bring him back down to earth. His hands grip your hips, lifting you with ease, growling when he feels your legs wrap around his waist. “Watching him touch you, you have no idea how I…” He bites off the sentence with a groan as you grind against him, your bare core leaving a wet patch on the spot just above his waist. Keeping you in place with his hips, he rips the shirt off, tossing it away as he pushes at his pants, barely getting them down his legs before his cock is springing free. The head taps between your legs and it makes you squirm.
“I’m yours, drevniy,” you say, and the nickname once made him bristle, but now it just lights a fire in his chest. “Only yours. No one else gets to touch.” You lean up, pulling yourself against his chest, nosing at his neck, scraping your teeth at his earlobe. “Just you.”
Steve growls again, holding you against him with one arm, wrenching the shower door open with the other. You hiss when the water hits you, but the sound drags out into a low moan as he positions you beneath the spray, steam filling the stall, smudging your outlines.
He lets his hands roam, massaging your limbs, cleaning the dirt from your skin. You hum along with his movements, your head tipping back between your shoulders when he works your chest, wiping away the dried blood and grime. Then he walks you back, pushing you against the tiles. You gasp when your back touches them, the porcelain so much colder than the water, but Steve’s made up his mind.
He starts at your lips. Kisses you rough, bites at you bottom lip, pushes his tongue past your teeth to tangle with yours. When your hands move to grip his hair, wet strands wrapped around his knuckles, he groans into your mouth, drags his lips along your jaw, down your throat.
He bends slightly, tracing your collarbones with his tongue. Your hands don’t leave his hair, only gripping tighter as he moves down, nose dragging along your sternum. But then he pauses, cheats left, scraping the scruff of his jaw along the curve of your breast. You breathe out his name when he closes his lips around your nipple, giving you just the edge of his teeth, pinching the other between his knuckles lightly before rolling it between his fingers.
“Steve.”
He grins against you, sure you can feel it as he pulls back, satisfied only when he sees your nipple is peaked, tight from his attention. Then he does it all over again on the right, only stopping when you tug at his hair, a panting mess as you look down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with lust.
“What are you…” you start to ask, but the words drop off into a moan when he drops to his knees, using his shoulder to wedge your legs wide, leaning in to bite the inside of your thigh.
“Appreciating what’s mine,” he replies, tongue soothing the spot he bit. “Too much?”
You shake your head, rolling it against the tile, a blissed-out smile on your face. Fuck, he missed you. Can’t imagine his life without you. “Never,” you reply, meeting his gaze again. “Prityazhatel'nyy padezh.”
Steve’s brow lifts, and he puts his face against your thigh again, dragging his tongue up toward the heat between your legs. “Translate, please.”
“Possessive.” You moan the word, one hand staying in his hair while the other reaches up to squeeze at your breast. “Fuck, I should have gotten myself kidnapped a long time ago.”
The thought makes him see red, and you squeal as he grabs both your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders and diving straight between your legs.
“Steve!”
He eats your pussy like he’s never done before. Nips and sucks and licks until your thighs are quaking around his ears, until your cries bounce off the tile walls. You’re an oasis in a desert, his first meal after being starved for days. You’re everything.
You’re his.
He doesn’t stop until you cum, your hand an iron vice against his scalp, tugging so hard it gives him just that little twinge of pain, and he’s reminded how evenly matched you are. He takes everything you have to give, drinks down every drop until you’re pushing at him, overstimulated, body lax in his grip. He works his way back up to standing, worshipping you on the way up the same as he had on the way down. Your chest heaves against his as he pushes his body against yours, caging you in against the wall, keeping you safe.
“Tell me something,” he asks, and you nod, the movement lazy, your hands dragging up and down his ribs as he straightens, reaches up to brush a wet strand of hair from your face.
“Mm?”
Steve leans in, nosing at the curve of your jaw before pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “How do you say I love you in Russian?”
Your whole body jolts as the words fall past his lips, and he chuckles into your skin, pulling you even closer, wrapping his body around yours. Your head tips back, eyes trained on the ceiling, but you hold him just as close. “You’re going soft, drevniy.”
“Only for you,” he replies, nipping at your throat. “Yours, remember?”
Your quiet laugh seems to echo around the shower until you speak again. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” You say, and Steve gives his best repetition, earning himself another chuckle from you. After his second try, your eyes lower, and he sees the wetness in them. “I love you, too.”
#my fics#tell me your troubles#sleepover sundae#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers smutt#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#marvel fic#nomad steve rogers#captain america x phoenix
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Saw that post you reblogged for COD men. How about you match those lines ("big stretch" ; "I'll make it fit" etc.) to CEvans babes of your choice? 😏
Ask is based on this post.
Get's a little smutty so I'll put my answers below the cut.
Steve "big stretch" Rogers - Let's face it, there's no way the serum didn't affect his dick as well. He loves when you're on top and he can watch the pleasure in your face as you sink down onto his cock, delighting in the stretch.
+++++++++
Curtis "make it fit" Everett - Curtis isn't the most patient, but he wants this to be good for you, too. So he'll make sure you've come on his tongue and fingers at least once before pushing into you and fucking you roughly.
+++++++++
Ransom "just the tip" Drysdale - Still haven't watch the movie but you can't tell me this little shit wouldn't try the "just the tip" comment. But, of course, it's never just that. It's very much you take an inch he'll give you the whole thing.
+++++++
Jake "give me one more" Jensen - Your pleasure is so very important to Jake. Not only for you, but for his confidence and enjoyment as well. He loves knowing he can get you off and the more times you do, the better (for both of you).
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𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑☆.｡.:*
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐚
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, noncon, dubcon, daddy!kink, dd/lg vibes, choking, spanking, anal play, fingering, size difference, innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You never thought you'd be stuck between two beefy basketball players who have it out for each other - but which one do you choose?
𝐀/𝐍: This is part 3 of my fic, Wicked Games. I'm literally so nervous about posting this. This is 21k words long. I hope you enjoy and forgive any mistakes!
“I told you, Wanda. I barely remember anything from last night,” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you manoeuvre the vacuum cleaner around your room. You’d woken up feeling like shit – hungover and with a terrible headache to boot. But a warm shower and some skincare later, you’d decided to do some chores in order to clear your mind. “I do remember you ditching me though.”
“I didn’t ditch you!” Wanda screeches from the other end of the line, and you wrinkle your nose, holding the phone away from your ear before she speaks again. “Curtis told me you’d left, and then he took me back to his place! I left you a message and everything, but maybe it didn’t send because the service was so shitty.”
You hadn’t received her message until you got home last night, along with about a dozen more from Ari which you also still hadn’t looked at, let alone responded to.
“Wait, you went home with Curtis?”
Wanda giggles, “Yeah. I didn’t think someone as popular as him would ever be interested in me but he was! And he was so good, and gentle too, and–”
You stay quiet, letting her gush on and on about her magical night with the basketball player, ooh-ing and aah-ing and gasping at all the right places. The truth was, the moment she’d mentioned Curtis’ name, the memory of him cornering you on the dancefloor and giving you drink after drink had all come back to you. How he’d offered to take you upstairs before Ari had interrupted… Oh, but what did that matter? It’s not like you didn’t already have your hands full with a basketball player of your own…
“So, what about you?” Wanda finally asks, “Do you really not remember anything?”
You inhale deeply, “I remember talking to Ari.”
No. You remembered more than that. You remembered the thumping music, the flashing lights, the crowd surging around you. His hands on your hips, his lips on your neck. His words in your ear. How he’d fucked you right there in front of everyone… All of that had come back to you in the shower this morning, but you’d been trying not to think about it ever since. All you could really do was persuade yourself that it was too dark and crowded for anyone to have seen that.
“Ew. Not that two-timer. Please tell me you didn’t fold.”
Scrunching your eyes shut, you bite your lip, “We hooked up.” You weren’t going to delve into the details of where you’d hooked up with him, though.
“OH MY GOD, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THIS?!” Wanda screeches again, and you press your lips together. It was a valid question, but you just weren’t in the mood for a lecture.
“You ditched me and went home with Curtis. Please spare me the lecture, Wanda.”
She’s silent for a handful of seconds, “Okay fine. But how did you get home? Did Ari give you a lift?”
You frown, “He must have. I don’t really remember–”
At that moment, your eyes land on a blue and white varsity jacket draped over your desk chair, and your heart jolts all the way up to the roof of your mouth. Wanda’s voice prattles on, but the phone falls slightly from your hand.
Steve. You’d met a guy called Steve last night. It was slowly coming back to you now. How Ari had broken your heart in that bathroom, how you’d felt so alone and heartbroken the rest of the night. Blurred bits and pieces slowly join together like a jigsaw puzzle in your mind… Steve had found you, and you’d talked to him. And then…? Ari and Steve had faced off, and you’d chosen to leave with Steve…
You couldn’t remember anything after that. But surely Steve had called a cab and dropped you home, right? You had no recollection of what happened in the cab, however. You just have a vague memory of feeling cold and Steve giving you his jacket while you were both in the backseat. But that was the gentlemanly thing to do, as was dropping you home after the terrible night you’d had thanks to Ari.
“Hello? You still there??”
You blink, pressing the phone back against your ear, “Uh, yeah, I’m here. I don’t know what happened after that, but I got home safely so I guess that’s a win, right?”
Wanda agrees, before launching into a detailed account of how Curtis had let her sleep over and he’d even gotten her coffee in the morning after allowing her to sleep in. You sit there, half listening and half staring at Steve’s varsity jacket on your chair. Inexplicably, your fingers itch to touch the soft material, to hold it against your nose and see if you can detect a scent to try and remember more of what had happened last night. You have a vague memory of how heavy and secure it felt around your shoulders, but you can’t recall anything else no matter how hard you try.
A distinct rattling against your doorknob distracts you momentarily, and before you know what’s happening, your door flies open, and Ari appears. The spare key you’d given him clenched tightly in his fist, and a scowl on his handsome face.
“Why the fuck have you been ignoring my messages?” He snarls.
Seeing him now, seeing his devastatingly handsome face, his hair which is slightly wet at the ends, as if he just showered. His grey tank that clung to his body and showed off those incredible, tanned biceps. Oh God, seeing him now just makes you feel all weird, hurt and angry and helpless and yet so attracted to him all in one. And you wonder if all these conflicting emotions show on your own face as you stare him down.
You sniff in what you hope is a dismissive way, “I’m on the phone with Wanda right now.”
It takes him two seconds to cross the room, snatching the phone from your hands before speaking into it gruffly: “Fuck off, Carla.” He hangs up while you gape at him in shock and annoyance, before throwing your phone to the other end of your bed. “Answer me. I won’t repeat myself.”
He’d been messaging you nonstop all night and even this morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them. Not after how much he’d hurt you last night in the bathroom.
“Why would I reply to your messages when I have nothing left to say to you?” You say, priding yourself on keeping your voice level and calm.
He scoffs, running a hand through his hair like he usually does when he feels insulted or frustrated, “Watch your tone. That’s no way to talk to someone who’s been worried sick about you since you let that asshole abduct you last night.”
Your jaw drops open, “Worried sick? Are you for real, Ari? You weren’t worried sick when you left me in that bathroom even after I begged you to stay with me.”
Ari blinks, crossing his arms over his chest, “You remember that?”
You side-step your vacuum and square up to him (as well as you could possible square up to someone who is almost double your height). “I remember how heartbroken I felt, how hopeless and drunk I was. And you… you didn’t even care! Not even a little bit…” Your voice breaks, and you hate it and you wish you were stronger but you feel your shoulders crumple and your eyes well with tears.
“Aww, baby…” Ari’s strong arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his solid chest. And he smells so good, like fresh soap and aftershave, and his embrace is so familiar, so safe, and you hate him for that. “Don’t cry, baby. You know I hate it when you cry. Look, I didn’t want to leave you, but I had to. Sharon was making a scene and multiple people were looking for me.”
At the mention of her name, you push him away immediately and take a few steps backwards to create some distance between the two of you. No, you wouldn’t let him sweet-talk you this time, you wouldn’t fall victim to his manipulations. You were going to stand your ground.
“Don’t, okay? You don’t need to make all these excuses because you basically laid it all out on the table last night, Ari. I remember everything.”
“Baby, listen–”
“No, you listen! You strung me along for weeks, telling me you’d make me your girlfriend one day. I told you I’d do anything for you. I let you fuck me wherever, however you wanted! I begged you to stay, but you told me you already had a girlfriend, and now I know that if it came down to it, you’d always pick her over me. So, I’m done.”
You swallow back your tears and stand with your head held high, heart pounding at everything you’ve just said. But you also feel exhilarated, liberated because you’ve never voiced your thoughts to him like this before. And he just stands there, eyes narrowed as he stares you down and yet he says nothing, and you wonder if you’ve finally rendered someone like him speechless.
With triumph, you turn on your heel, walking past him and into your bathroom. You have nothing to do in there but you busy yourself with rearranging your lotions and creams, determined to ignore him until he leaves.
“I could take you out tonight,” he calls from the bedroom, “Like a real date. We could go to one of those Italian restaurants downtown. And we could stay at a hotel after that, I can easily get us a penthouse suite at the Hilton, I know you’d like that.”
You would like that. In fact, your heart lurches in excitement. A romantic, public date with Ari? Oh, that would be incredible! But your happiness is short-lived when you realise that none of it meant anything if he was still with Sharon. That meant this date would probably take place in the shadows of the night, with him on edge over someone spotting the two of you together. And you refused to be his second-choice, his dirty little secret, any longer.
“I’m not interested, Ari,” you mutter, pretending to read the label of your shampoo bottle. A minute passes before you look up, disappointed when he doesn’t answer. Had he left? Oh, you were hoping he would’ve stayed longer and grovelled a bit more. Or even grovelled at all because he still hadn’t apologised. You resist the urge to call his name as you stare hard at your shampoo bottle, so hard that the label blurs. Still nothing. You sigh before leaving the bathroom, heart sinking that he left.
But Ari’s still there, standing in the middle of your room. Deathly still, and in his hands is Steve’s blue and white varsity jacket. Shit. You’d completely forgotten it was there.
“This is his.” Ari says softly.
You don’t say anything.
His blue eyes meet yours, narrowed and accusatory, his jaw tense with contained anger. He holds the jacket up as if it’s a piece of damning evidence in a murder case, and you’re the convict on trial. You see a glimmer of betrayal on his face, and his lips press into a thin line.
“Why is this here?”
Your mouth suddenly feels dry. It’s like his demeanour has completely changed in the past thirty seconds. You’d never seen him so calmly angry before. It’s almost eery.
“I asked you a question.”
You chew on your lower lip, “I-I was feeling cold, so he–”
Again, he closes the gap between you with just two long strides. But this time, he pushes you against the wall, his hand going around your throat and giving you the strangest sense of dejavu.
“Was he in here? Did you let him fuck you?”
He shakes you when you don’t answer, and his fingers squeeze your throat threateningly.
“No, okay!” You say, feeling your windpipes close. Of course, you and Steve hadn’t slept together – all he’d done was give you a ride home, right??
“Did you let him touch you? Did you!?” He shakes you again, “Did you hook up with him? Tell me the fucking truth.”
“NO! Get the fuck off me!” You cry, pushing at him feebly.
“Do you remember everything? Tell me right fucking now, because if you don’t remember then that means that asshole took advantage of you while you were drunk.”
“I REMEMBER EVERYTHING, OKAY?!” You lie, “Nothing happened. H-He gave me his jacket because I felt cold, then he dropped me home. Nothing else happened, just let me go!”
Ari does let your throat go, but his menacing eyes never leave yours. You’ve never seen him so… affected before. He was always so cool, collected, so nonchalant… but right now, he almost looks frenzied. The sneer never leaves his face as his hand slips up to grab your jaw instead.
“Are you sure?” His every word is enunciated slowly, in a frighteningly level manner as he stares you down. “You better be fucking sure, because I know guys like him. He’s a fucking slimeball who would’ve been happy to touch you even if you were unconscious.”
Your heart sinks at that, but you know Ari’s just speaking out of anger. Steve had been so sweet, and he’d never do that. You were sure of it…
“All he did was give me a lift home!” You try to wiggle out of Ari’s grip but he holds you firmly against the wall, his huge body pinning you flat against it similar to how he had last night when he’d fucked you. Out of nowhere, a wave of anger surges through you, the memory of him using you and disposing of you flashing through your mind once again. And now he had the audacity to get mad at you for going home with someone else? The next words out of your mouth are spiteful:
“But it wouldn’t be a problem if I did hook up with Steve, would it? I mean, it’s not like I have a boyfriend.”
Quick as a wink, Ari flips you around, till your cheek is rammed up against the cold wall, and you can practically hear the angry rumble from his throat. He roughly yanks your shorts down your legs, along with your panties too. You struggle against him, but your protests die as his palm cracks down on your bare ass hard.
“Don’t you fucking even think about that.” Ari hisses, smacking your ass four times in quick succession.
“Stop!” You squeal, pushing back against him but he’s too big and strong, “Stop, you jerk! It hurts!”
“Don’t you ever even entertain the idea of hooking up with someone else.” Ari growls in your ear, his unforgiving hand raining slaps down on your poor, ass which already feels raw, “You’re mine. I own your whole fucking body and nobody else can touch you. Say it.”
You sob in pain, fighting against him, “No! You don’t respect me, you don’t–”
“That doesn’t fucking matter,” he says through clenched teeth. Roughly, he pulls your pyjama shorts down, and your panties are quick to follow. His palm collides with your ass over and over again, alternating between your two bare cheeks with unforgiving slaps whilst ignoring your cries of protest. “I had you first. That means you’re mine, and he can’t have you. No one can have you unless I fucking say so.”
Your eyes widen, his words chilling you down to the bone. Never before has Ari ever sounded so serious, so scary. You swallow harshly, before gasping when he pinches your ass meanly. It hurts, you feel like your ass is on fire as he resumes slapping it over and over again. His other hand holds you tightly by the hip to keep you in place – otherwise, with the force of his smacks, you’d have gone flying across the room.
“Stop it, Ari! Fucking stop it!” You beg, trying to keep resilient despite the fact that your backside is stinging so bad. The last thing you want to do right now is start crying and fall into a submissive stupor that has you begging for his forgiveness and approval. And you know that very well could happen, because that’s what’s always happened in the past when he’s punished you.
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
“No! Fuck you!” You weren’t gonna give in to him. Not this time.
You squeal when his hand presses against your lower back, bending you over slightly. He spreads your glowing ass cheeks, swiping his finger up your slit. You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear him smirk at your wetness. Your body can’t help but respond to his touch… but it’s your mind and willpower that you need to keep strong right now.
“You won’t say it, huh? What, you decided to develop a mind of your own overnight?” He gathers your wetness on his finger, steering clear of your clit completely as his finger moves upwards instead. You clench involuntarily when you feel his digit probe your asshole, “I make all your decisions, you got that, sweetheart? I own you. I decide what you do, who you talk to, all of that shit.”
Oh, how was he so possessive over you when he couldn’t even call you his girlfriend? You just couldn’t understand him…
He forces his pointer finger into your asshole, making you scream out loud at the intrusion. He’s fingered your ass before, but never as roughly as now. You bite down on your lower lip – you’ve already screamed once but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of doing it again. His other hand leaves your hip to grab your hair, pulling your head back.
“Say you’re mine, or I’ll add another finger.”
“How can I be yours when you’re the one who doesn’t want me to be your girlfriend!?”
Ari scowls, and yet he doesn’t respond. Instead, he continues to spank your ass. And his finger continues to pump in and out of you, and you find yourself biting your lip now to suppress your moans.
There was just something so carnal, so raw, about him finger-fucking your ass. He was stoic and angry right now, but in the past Ari would always tell you how obsessed he was with your butt. How cute and round it was, how it drove him crazy when you bent down in your cute little skirts. How you had the type of ass that was always just begging for a smack. And he’d always find reasons to “punish” you, insisting on spanking you for the smallest of offences. He’d told you that he loved how needy you got when he spanked you, and how he knew it got you horny when he fingered your butt.
But right now, it seemed like Ari was more fuelled by anger and jealousy than lust. And a part of you, despite everything, the neediest and most insecure part of you is happy that he’s so jealous. That he’s so affected by the prospect of you getting with Steve. And yet… Yet it clearly isn’t enough to get him to leave Sharon for you…
“I own you.” He grunts in your ear, “I don’t fucking care if you say it or not. But you’re not gonna speak to Steve Rogers again. Do I make myself clear?”
He doesn’t wait for you to answer, probably because he knows you won’t right now. There’s a shift in energy, you both can feel it. You know he can sense your mind fighting against him harder than ever before. It’s in the way you keep your mouth clamped shut, despite inwardly wanting to moan in pleasure.
Ari slips his hand down your front, cupping your mound as he continues to finger your butt with his other hand. You suppress another gasp, fighting the urge to press against his palm. You hear him smirk again from behind you, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. You exhale loudly, thrill shooting straight down to your core.
“Don’t think I give a fuck about you giving me the silent treatment,” he says into your ear, “Daddy can still make you cum harder than anyone else ever could, and you’ll cry like a fucking baby while you do it.”
His words go straight to your pussy and you clench hard. Your hips move on their own accord, thrusting forward to hump straight into his hand before you still them. But it feels so sinfully good, your clit rubbing against the hard heel of his palm. And it doesn’t help that he knows exactly how to move his hand against your bundle of nerves, circling and pressing and rubbing at you.
“Fuck,” you breathe.
“There she is,” Ari murmurs cockily, “There’s my girl. I guess the little baby didn’t lose her voice after all…”
“I mean, fuck you.”
He snorts, rapidly pressing his finger in and out of your puckered hole with such force that he rocks you forward, making your pussy press deliciously against his hand.
“You’ll listen to me,” he says beguilingly, licking the shell of your ear, “you’ll do exactly what I say. I don’t care if you want to throw a tantrum right now and act out and pretend you don’t want me anymore. I own your pussy, and I decide when we’re done. Not you. Me.”
You drop your head in shame, the pleasure in your tummy making you almost dizzy. Your body sags, surrendering to him physically as he mauls you. The tight walls of your ass swallow his finger up each time he thrusts into you with it, the force jolting you forward, making you dry hump his hand. Your ass burns and yet it feels so sexy, and you know you’re losing yourself; you know you’re losing the battle…
“Say it. Say who’s making you feel this good,” Ari breathes, rubbing your clit sensually, coaxing you to rut against his hand, to chase your pleasure while he dangles it in front of you like a carrot. “Nobody else will ever make you feel like this, you got that? Just me. So, say it.”
“Ari,” his name falls past your lips in a choked whisper, and you scrunch your eyes shut as you cum violently. You spasm in his arms, pussy walls clenching and releasing over and over again as you squirt all over his hand.
“That’s a good baby,” Ari coos, holding you up because your legs feel like jelly, and you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. “It’s okay, you can be mad at daddy all you want. But I know what’s best for you, and I lo–” He pauses, clearing his throat and pressing his lips down on your neck, kissing and licking at your skin, “I own you, you got that?”
You don’t answer, and he walks backwards with you in his arms. He lays you down on the bed before making a show of licking your cream off his fingers. You lie there, watching him and trying to catch your breath. Coming down from that orgasmic high, a dark feeling manifesting in the pit of your stomach. You’d let him get to you…again.
“We’ll go out tonight,” Ari announces, “I’ll pick you up around nine, and we’ll go wherever you want to go.”
“No.”
His eyes narrow, “What?”
It takes you a second to gather up your strength to sit up. Your orgasm has weakened you – or maybe it’s the emotional weight of what you’re about to say next.
“I said no, Ari. I don’t want to go out with you.”
He blinks, but doesn’t say anything. You take that as your cue to continue.
“I’m done, okay? I’m serious this time. I don’t wanna be with you if you’re still with her.” You suck in your breath, looking somewhere beyond his shoulder because it’s too intimidating to meet his gaze. “I don’t wanna go on a date that starts at nine in the evening when it’s pitch-black outside, just because you can’t risk being seen with me. I deserve better than that.”
Ari crosses his arms over his chest, regarding you carefully and yet he still doesn’t say anything.
“A-And I deserved better last night. I didn’t deserve to be left alone in that bathroom. I was high, and drunk, and I begged you to stay with me,” you bow your head, “I-I deserve someone who isn’t embarrassed of being with me in public, Ari.”
“I’m not embarrassed of you, I just can’t–”
“You can’t risk it, I know. You have a girlfriend. And I wish to God it was me, but it’s not. So, I’m done trying to persuade you.”
He scoffs, “You don’t mean that. You’re just in a mood, but you’ll come crawling back to me the moment you start feeling needy again.”
You shake your head sadly, “Think whatever you want to think, Ari. I’m done.”
Sighing lowly, you keep your head bowed as you pick at a loose thread on your quilt. You can’t bare to look at him, because a part of you knows that looking at him would make you melt and then he’d have you back eating out of the palm of his hand. But you were done this time, you were so exponentially done, and–
“Listen to me,” In a flash, Ari grips your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Forcing you to look into his menacing eyes that flash with indignation and anger. “If you end this now, then that’s it. We’re done. I won’t ever speak to you again.”
Your heart jolts, stunned by his harsh words. But that was what you’d decided you’d wanted, right? For you and him to be done? Or had you wanted him to grovel, apologise, break up with Sharon and shack up with you? Nevertheless, you try to remain strong.
“Okay. That’s fine.”
“I’m serious. I know you think this is some kind of game and you’re playing hard to get, but I swear to God, I will leave this room and never even look at you again. Is that what you fucking want?”
His face is inches from yours, and you try to read his eyes. Try to understand him on any level, try to detect if there’s an inkling of care behind those eyes, even an iota of love or adoration for you. A desperation to stay with you, be with you. But you can’t. His face is unreadable, like a mask. And so a lone tear breaks free and meanders down your cheek, and you speak in a broken whisper:
“Maybe it’s for the best…”
He backs away as if you’ve stung him, or flung a vial of poison right in his face. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, chest rising and falling with each breath as he glares daggers at you. And a large part of you just wants to take it all back, to jump into his arms and burst out crying like you always do, and he’d make you feel better for the night and then leave before you woke up tomorrow. No, you had to stay strong.
Easily, like he’s slipping on that damned mask once more, Ari’s features morph from anger to nonchalance, and he straightens up and shakes his head.
“Fine. Then we’re done.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
He opens his mouth as if to say something else before thinking better of it. Instead, he turns and leaves without a second glance back at you, his fists balled up at his sides.
It’s only when he’s gone, and the door slams shut with a crushing finality, that you allow yourself to burst into tears. Loud, wracking, sobbing tears, and one word falls past your lips in a choked whisper:
“Bye.”
***
Heartbreak felt strange. For one thing, it was constant. You missed Ari all the time in the days that followed. You thought it would get easier after a few days, but two weeks later and you still felt like your heart had been sawed in half. And every time you’d see him on campus, your heart would jolt.
In the past, he’d always smile at you or give you a wink – even if he was with his girlfriend. Now? You may as well have been invisible for all he cared. He never looked at you, or whenever his eyes did glance in your direction, it was like he’d see right through you or over your head. You didn’t exist to him anymore. And it hurt.
But isn’t this what you had wanted?
Well, yes. And yet, you can’t fathom how it’s actually happened. A large part of you had expected him to come crawling back to you like how he had last time. You’d expected your phone to blow up with texts and calls from him, expected him to show up at your door at midnight for a booty call, even. But nope. Radio silence. You and Ari were well and truly done and he’d moved on.
And often, when you were getting ready in the morning, your gaze would fall on the blue and white varsity jacket still draped on your chair and wonder if it was time for you to move on to someone else too…
But Ari still plagued your mind, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to contact Steve or even if you wanted to. After all, all he’d done was give you a ride home when you were messy drunk and probably at your most unattractive. He probably wasn’t even interested in you like that…
“Oh my Gosh, Curtis is coming this way. Do I look okay? Do I need to powder my nose again?” Wanda hisses at you. The two of you are sat on one of the wooden tables in the campus courtyard. She quickly grabs your compact, not waiting for you to answer as she scrutinises her reflection in the tiny mirror.
Oh, right. Another important advancement in the past two weeks: Wanda and Curtis were now a thing. Which made it even harder to avoid Ari, who was Curtis’ best friend. Even now, as you look beyond Wanda’s shoulder, you can see Curtis walking towards her with Ari right next to him. To your relief, Ari hangs back, getting his phone out instead.
“Hey, babe.” Curtis pulls up behind Wanda, wrapping his arms around her while she throws your compact back at you so she can squeeze his bicep. It hits you in the face and you huff to yourself as you put it away, pointedly trying not to look at the two of them while they start to make out. Watching them be a happy couple especially stung seeing as your own “relationship” had ended in such a disaster.
Looking beyond them proves to be a mistake, however. Ari’s now been joined by Sharon, and the two of them are also wrapped up in a kiss. God, what was with everyone? You scowl and look down at your lap.
“What’s wrong with your friend, sweetie?” Curtis asks Wanda, his voice dripping with smug amusement. You almost scoff out loud at the use of “your friend,” as if this man hadn’t been flirting with you the night of the party two weeks ago. You still haven’t mentioned that to Wanda – not when she’s so happy with him now.
“Oh, nothing. She’s always moody nowadays.” Wanda says flippantly, pulling him down to sit on the bench next to her as the two of them continue to kiss obnoxiously. The buzzcut-haired man squarely grabs her breast and gives it a squeeze – right out in the open! But Wanda only giggles, letting him pull her into his lap and feel her up as their make-out session takes a quick, R-rated turn.
“That’s my cue to leave,” you mutter to yourself, gathering your books and standing up. The happy couple doesn’t even glance your way or even acknowledge you’ve said anything. You sigh, wondering whether this was what the rest of your college experience would be like. You’d had your fun at the start of the year and now you were doomed to be the third wheel to these two…
“Oh my gosh, you’re the girl from that party, aren’t you?”
A high-pitched voice knocks you out of your hole of self-pity, and you almost run smack into… Sharon. She’s standing by your wooden table now, hand in hand with Ari, who looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
“H-Huh?” Your mouth suddenly feels dry. You’ve never spoken to Sharon before – and how could you? How could you even look her in the eye after you’d spent weeks and weeks sleeping with her boyfriend?
“You’re the girl from the party,” Sharon repeats, elegantly raising her voice over the obscene making out sounds coming from Curtis and Wanda. “I was pretty drunk but I remember you! You were in that gorgeous red dress, right?”
Your heart’s racing, and you wish you could disappear. Instead, you nod and force a smile.
“Yeah, that was me. Hi.”
“I thought so! You have to tell me where you got that dress, girl! I honestly couldn’t stop talking about it. I mean, just ask my boyfriend!” She nudges Ari, who is trying his best to appear nonchalant, ignoring her as he texts someone on his phone. Sharon rolls her eyes before continuing, “I was totally off my face drunk, but if I remember anything, it’s that dress.”
You nod, forcing a tight smile. “I was pretty drunk too. And the dress is from this website called White Fox Boutique. Look, I have to go–”
“Did you get home okay?” Sharon interrupts, her face morphing into a look of concern. And God, you hate how kind she’s being. It would have been easier to swallow the fact that you’d slept with her boyfriend had she been a bitch. Not a ray of literal sunshine who was so pretty to boot – with messy blonde hair cascading down her back in perfect waves, and the sparkliest blue eyes. No wonder Ari had chosen her – she was absolutely stunning, and even more so up close.
“Yes, I got a lift home–”
“Oh, that’s right! You were with Steve Rogers, that guy from St. Jude’s!” Sharon says excitedly, clasping her manicured hands together before grabbing Ari’s bicep, “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend now. Although it’s a good thing we both had our boyfriends there that night to get us home safely.”
Ari snorts, finally deciding to contribute to the conversation: “He’s not her boyfriend.”
“Um, okay. And how would you know that, babe?” Sharon smiles sweetly up at him.
The brunet freezes, glancing at you for a nanosecond before he clears his throat. “That guy couldn’t hold down a girl if his life depended on it. He’s too volatile.”
Sharon rolls her eyes, “You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend. He has this weird rivalry thing with Steve Rogers. They’re both basketball players, you see.”
You nod, trying to pretend like this is all new information to you. “Uh, right. Well, Steve isn’t my boyfriend, actually. I only met him that night and he was kind enough to give me a lift home. Speaking of home, I gotta g–”
“You and Steve would make a cute couple,” Sharon muses, “you guys looked good together that night.”
You smile awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other and not knowing what to say. She clearly had an excellent memory of that night considering she was off her face drunk for the majority of it.
You hear Ari huff while you’re wracking your brain for an excuse to leave. Sneaking a glance at him, you find him frowning, his hands curled up into fists by his side. Oh, he was affected! Did that mean he still cared? A lightbulb goes off in your head…
“M-Maybe I will go out with Steve. We’ve been texting a lot since that night.” Your voice comes out shaky, the lie feeling foreign on your tongue.
Ari glares daggers at you, “That’s a bad idea.”
Sharon slaps his chest lightly, “Don’t be rude! I think that’s a fabulous idea!”
The brunet bristles and looks down at his girlfriend with an annoyed look on his face, “Don’t you have a class you need to be getting to?”
“I do but–”
“Go.”
Your eyes widen at his gruff tone, and you’re even more surprised when Sharon nods at his command. What was it about Ari that made every girl around him bow down to his authority so easily? You’d been guilty of it too in the past…
“Okay, grumpy-pants,” she says easily before turning to you, “it was nice meeting you! I’m Sharon, by the way.”
You tell her your name.
“Cool, I’ll find you on Instagram. You can text me the details of your dress there!” She says happily, and all you can do is nod while Ari continues staring at you with a steely expression on his face. Clearly, he was bothered by the idea of you and Steve texting! So what if it wasn’t even true?
You stare back at him defiantly, finally feeling like you’ve gained the upper hand in the two weeks since you two have been apart.
In response, Ari narrows his eyes, grabbing Sharon as she’s about to walk away. Your heart drops when he kisses her right in front of you, his gaze fixed on you as his lips move against hers. You feel your face grow hot, then cold, then hot again, heart feeling like someone’s shredding it into pieces. How could he? Your eyes well with tears, but you fight to keep them at bay because you can’t cry here, not in front of everyone.
He continues making out with her, being as obscene as possible as his eyes lock with yours, and you just stand there, frozen and gormless, not even able to look away. Finally, after what feels like ten years, they break apart. Sharon giggles, and Ari slaps her ass before sending her on her way. You wish you could gouge your eyes out.
“You’re unbelievable.” You mutter lowly once Sharon is out of earshot.
“And you’re a liar.”
“What?”
Ari steps closer to you, “I can always tell when you’re lying. You’re not texting Steve.”
You roll your eyes before pushing past him, “It’s none of your business anyways.”
Curtis – you’d forgotten he was even there – breaks a kiss with Wanda to grin up at you. “Don’t mind Ari, he’s just been extremely crabby lately. Not getting laid does that to people.” He goes in for another kiss, adding against Wanda’s lips, “Same can’t be said about you and me, huh, sweetheart?”
Ugh.
“Wanda, I’m leaving. Are you coming?” You ask, doing your best to ignore the two basketball players.
“What? Uh, no, I’m busy,” your friend answers distractedly before Curtis pulls her back in for another kiss.
“You’ll stay away from Steve if you know what’s best for you.” Ari says quietly.
Great. Was he seriously threatening you now?
“I’ll do whatever I want,” you raise your chin up at him defiantly once more.
Ari scowls, running a hand through his hair. You know him well enough to know that he does that when he’s frustrated. “Look, I’m being serious. It’s for your own good–”
“Why do you even care? I thought we were done, Ari.”
“We are done.”
“Then leave me the fuck alone, okay!? I’ll date whoever I want to date.”
“Not him.”
“Yes, him.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“We’ll vacate this bench if you two need the space to fuck.” Curtis offers jokingly, but both of you ignore him as you stare each other down.
Finally, you huff, attempting to sidestep him but he’s way too big and easily blocks your path. A second attempt, and he blocks you again – and this time he has the audacity to smirk amusedly. That boils your blood, and you glare up at him. How dare he try and tell you who you could and couldn’t date? When he just made out with Sharon five inches away from your face not even two minutes ago!?
“Just listen to me for once,” Ari grabs your wrist but you’re quick to tug it back. His scowl deepens, but he doesn’t grab you again, “Steve is bad news. He–”
“He can’t be any worse than the guys I already do know.” You cut him off pointedly before turning around and walking away without a second glance.
***
“I can’t believe I let you drag me here.”
You’re all too familiar with the university’s basketball court – you used to come here all the time to watch Ari play. That didn’t mean you wanted to be here now. In fact, it was the last place you wanted to be, and you’d told Wanda that several times but she wouldn’t hear any of it.
Wanda rolls her eyes, “Curtis is playing, and as his girlfriend, I need to be there for moral support.”
You wrinkle your nose; she’d only been going out with Curtis for a few weeks now and yet she was running around acting like Curtis was the president and she was the first lady or something. She didn’t really have any time to be your best friend anymore. You and Wanda had bonded at the start of the academic year – doing everything from attending society meetings together to having movie nights and sleep overs.
But now, it was all “Curtis wants me to go to this new club with him,” and “Curtis says that it’s okay to bunk lectures once in a while!” and “Oh sorry, I can’t hang out tonight – Curtis’ schedule just got cleared up so he needs me to go to his room.” It made you wonder whether you’d been this insufferable too when you were with Ari.
“Moral support? Wanda, this isn’t even a proper game. It’s just a practice,” you remind her, “and anyways, I don’t know what I’m doing here. It’s not like I’m dating Curtis.”
“Of course not, you’re not his type at all. I just couldn’t show up alone, that’s just sad,” says Wanda before she spies Curtis in the corner of the court with a few other teammates, all of them stretching and doing warm-ups. She waves at him like mad, blowing kisses in his direction. He shoots her a quick smile before turning around to talk to a nearby cheerleader.
You spot a familiar figure, tanned, tall and muscular with his long brown hair pushed back with one of those metal wire headbands that men wore, barking out a game plan to the rest of his team. Ari. You freeze.
“Wanda!” You hiss, tugging hard at her sleeve, “You said that Curtis told you that Ari was sick and wouldn’t be at practice today!”
Wanda blinks, “Oh. That was a lie.”
“What!?”
She shrugs, “Come on. I needed you here today and I knew there was no way you’d come if you knew Ari was here. Hey, does my lip gloss look okay, by the way? I’m gonna go say hi to Curtis.”
“Don’t leave me all by myself!”
Wanda rolls her eyes, tugging her arm out of your grasp, “You’ll be fine. I’ll be right back anyways. In the meantime, just find us a good spot to sit. Somewhere close to the front where Curtis will be able to see me.”
And she’s gone before you know it. Great. The last thing you needed right now was Ari thinking you’d come here specifically to see him play. And with his big head – that’s exactly what he’d think. You contemplate just leaving – you could tell Wanda that you’d had a medical emergency or something. Or maybe you could just sit somewhere in the back or hide in the bleachers, and Ari would never have to know you were here. He was too busy ordering his team around, he hadn’t noticed you yet anyways, and maybe you could–
“Sweetheart, I was hoping I’d see you here.”
A warm hand grasps your waist, and your first reaction is to jump back and smack whoever’s touching you in such a forward way. But then you turn, being met by a sturdy chest covered by a blue and white St. Jude’s basketball jersey. Golden hair. Sparkling blue eyes. Angelic face.
“Steve!” You exclaim, before realising that you sound way too happy to see someone who is essentially still a stranger to you. You clear your throat, trying to sound more casual. “Wh-What are you doing here?”
“Our court is being renovated, so we got permission to practice here with your team.” He flashes you a bright smile, his hand still on your waist, his thumb stroking you from over your blouse. His eyes rake over you unabashedly, and you find yourself growing hot under his gaze. “This is a really pretty outfit you got on, sweetheart. Is it for anyone in particular?”
You were wearing a pink blouse and cardigan set, with a matching pink tennis skirt which had unfortunately shrunk in the washing machine. You’d still worn it though, promising yourself you wouldn’t make the mistake of bending over and giving everyone within close vicinity a good eyeful of your panties.
“Oh, uh, no, not for anyone in particular,” you babble. You feel nervous around him, but not necessarily in a bad way. “Thanks for getting me home safely that night, by the way. I, uh, I meant to thank you the next morning but I didn’t have your number or anything.”
Steve nods, shooting you a wink, “That’s alright, princess. I think it’s me who should be thanking you for that night.” His hand slips down to your hip, giving it a warm, meaningful squeeze.
You frown, “Why would you be thanking me? I didn’t do anything.” Your Uber ride home with Steve was still a blur to you, but you doubt anything eventful had happened during it. “Oh, don’t tell me I kept you entertained with all my drunken chatter. I’m sorry, I do that sometimes, and I was so embarrassingly drunk that night.”
He blinks, before a slow smile spreads across his face, “Baby girl, don’t you remember?”
“I remember me being a total embarrassment, and you being a total gentleman. You even gave me your jacket and I still have it now!” You say brightly, picturing his varsity jacket still hung up on your desk chair back in your dorm room. “I wanted to return it to you but you never called, or texted, or…” your eyes widen when you realise what you’ve said, “I mean, not that I expected you to call me. I understand that all you did was give me a lift home. I’m not insinuating that you had to call me, or that you’re attracted to me–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve easily grabs your chin before his thumb brushes upwards over your lips, effectively shutting you up. His eyes are intense, and so close, his lashes fanning his cheekbones as he looks down at you, “I am attracted to you.” He says squarely, before chuckling, “I thought that much was obvious. I should’ve gotten your number that night, baby girl, but you’d been drinking a lot.” His eyes glint as he licks his lips, “And I’d never take advantage of you when you were drunk.”
Oh, he was such a gentleman! Of course, he’d never take advantage of you while you were drunk! Unlike dumb, stupid Ari! As if on cue, you look beyond Steve’s shoulder, the tiniest part of you hoping that Ari’s watching this interaction between you and the blonde. But the brunet is busy warming up now, grunting as he does his push-ups in the corner of the gym, his tanned, muscular arms bulging. You almost bite your lip before focusing back on Steve.
“Give me your phone,” Steve says suddenly, and you’re obeying him before you’ve even registered what he’s asked. He smirks, taking it from you and typing his number in, saving it before handing it back to you. “You’ll text me tonight, won’t you?”
Was he asking you or was he telling you? Either way, you find yourself nodding.
His eyes bore into yours, “Say it, then. Say you’ll text me tonight.”
Oh, he was so intense! But you don’t seem to mind one bit. Again, you nod. “Y-Yes, Steve. I’ll text you tonight.”
He gives you a relaxed smile, “Good. We can discuss where I’ll take you on our first date.”
A thrill ripples through you. A date?! You’d never been on a date before! Oh wow, this was–
“Hey, you guys!”
Sharon’s bright voice echoes across the gym as she makes her way over towards the two of you. Sharon. Of course. Of course, she’d be here – she was a cheerleader. And she looked beautiful as she always did, with her blonde hair piled up in a messy bun, her cute cheerleading outfit accentuating all her curves perfectly. You’re hit with a sudden wave of insecurity – would Steve forget about you now that she was here? – but you try to keep it at bay.
The truth was, Sharon had requested you on Instagram a few days ago as she’d promised she would. And you’d had to follow her back, which was painful enough seeing as half of her pictures were her with Ari. But she was sweet when she texted you asking about where your red dress was from, and a few more mini-conversations and a bit of small talk later, clearly, she thought the two of you were friends.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” Sharon squeals, giving you a quick hug which you reciprocate whilst wondering why exactly she’s so happy to see you. She nods at Steve with a humorous twinkle in her eye, “And you’re Steve Rogers, aka Ari’s best friend in the whole world.”
Steve snorts, “Yep. That’s me.”
She giggles, looking from him to you and back to him again, “Let me guess. You guys are a couple now.”
You shake your head, “No, we–”
“–We are.” Steve cuts you off, winking at Sharon before wrapping his arm properly around your waist and pulling you into him. Your eyes widen, cheeks feeling hot. You weren’t at all used to public displays of affection like this, nor were you used to anyone being as forward as Steve was being right now. After all, this was only your second time meeting him- how was he already telling people you were together? And why weren’t you objecting to it?
Sharon clasps her hands together excitedly, “Yay! I told her you guys would make the cutest couple.”
Steve chuckles, and your eyes widen when his hand meanders downward. His palm settles on your ass, cupping it as he casually speaks to Sharon. She’s in front of you, so she can’t see it, but your eyes nearly bug out of your head as you feel his big, warm hand cup your ass through your tennis skirt, even giving it a squeeze.
“Careful, Sharon. You might get in trouble if your boyfriend sees you talking to me.” Steve jokes airily, as if he isn’t kneading your ass cheek at the same time. Your face is on fire, but you also feel your walls clench, turned on by the extra attention he’s giving you as he nonchalantly talks to someone else. It’s hot.
“Pfft, no way. Ari doesn’t care who I talk to, he’s not really the possessive type.”
“Interesting…” Steve murmurs softly, almost to himself.
“Look, there he is now,” Sharon waves across the court, “Hey, babe!”
You follow her gaze, watching Ari as he dribbles the basketball casually. Upon hearing her voice, he looks up. He’s got a disinterested look on his face as he nods in acknowledgement at Sharon, but then his eyes meet yours. And it’s like the whole world freezes over, and your body freezes and your blood freezes.
Ari’s face contorts from disinterest to shock as he drinks in you standing with Steve. You feel your chest tighten, as if your body can’t decide between feeling triumphant that you’re making Ari jealous, or upset that you’re making Ari jealous. Either way, you hear Steve smirk, and then he pulls you closer, giving your ass an even harder squeeze that has you yelping.
The shock on Ari’s face quickly morphs into hatred and disdain. He’s all the way across the court, and yet you can see his knuckles redden as he grips the ball so tightly you fear it may explode. A part of you wants to move away from Steve out of respect for Ari, but you couldn’t do that even if you wanted to. Steve’s grip is like iron around you, his palm glued to your ass as if he owns it.
Almost like he’s doing it on purpose…
You don’t know what to expect from Ari, but you brace yourself nevertheless as he makes his way over. But the dark look on his face has melted away, and by the time he reaches you, he looks cool as a cucumber, almost as if he’s slipped on a mask of nonchalance at the drop of a dime. You always wondered how he did that so easily…
“Why aren’t you out there cheering me on?” He asks Sharon, pulling her into his chest and pointedly kissing her. Your blood starts boiling once more and you subconsciously sidestep closer to Steve, lifting your chin up in defiance in Ari’s direction. The brunette side-eyes you and clutches Sharon closer in return.
Sharon beams up at Ari, “I was talking to Y/N. I’ll go in a second, because the squad is starting a new routine today and I want us to get it down in time for the next big game, and–”
But Ari’s no longer listening to her; him and Steve have now locked gazes much like how they did weeks ago at the party.
“I’m not sure why you even decided to show up today, Steve.” Ari breaks the steely silence first, “No amount of practice could help your godawful team beat mine.”
Steve smirks, undeterred. Pointedly, his arm tightens around you. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Something tells me you’ll be distracted tonight.”
Ari – somehow – looks equally unbothered, never breaking eye contact with Steve. You think you see his lip curl into a snarl for a millisecond, but it’s gone before you can be sure. “Even distracted, I’d still beat your ass.”
The blond snorts, “Your overconfidence is going to cost you, Ari. It’s what made you lose her.”
“Lose who?” asks Sharon, but she quickly grows distracted by the cheerleaders that are in the corner of the court, “Ugh, I gotta go. They’re trying to practice the pyramid and we need six of us to make it work. I’ll catch you later, okay? Please don’t try to kill Steve while I’m gone.” She kisses Ari’s cheek before waving at you and Steve and skipping away.
That just leaves you, standing frozen by Steve’s side while the two men lock eyes in their silent battle. And why does it kind of hurt, the fact that Ari hasn’t looked at you even once throughout it? In a way, you’re relieved that all they seem to be disagreeing over is basketball and who would beat who (aka lame boy stuff). But then that in turn makes you wonder: Is Ari not even affected by Steve’s arm around you? But then why did you even care if he was or wasn’t affected? And how was Steve being so forward, and, and, and–
“I-I gotta go. Wanda’s calling for me.” You lie, slipping out of Steve’s grip and scurrying away. The energy bouncing off both of them made you feel nervous, on edge, almost unsafe. You look back over your shoulder now to see them still staring at each other. Cold, barren stares that seemed to have grown more intense now that you’d left. It makes you gulp, and you wonder if it’s just a basketball rivalry between them after all – or it it’s something more.
“Where the hell have you been? Didn’t I tell you to find us good seats?” Wanda rolls her eyes, grabbing your hand and yanking you over to the last remaining front row seats. You try to clear your head of any thoughts of Ari or Steve, instead marvelling over how many people had showed up to watch these two teams play together in what was just a practice match.
“I was, uh, I just saw Steve.”
“Who?”
“He’s the… he gave me a lift home the night of the party.”
Wanda wrinkles her nose, about to say something before she grows distracted, “Look! There’s Curtis! The game’s about to start!!”
You never held much of an interest in basketball, even when you used to watch Ari play. But now, you pay attention carefully as the teams hit the court. Ari’s team have maroon jerseys and Steve’s team are in blue. They huddle on opposite sides of the court before the coach blows a whistle and they start playing.
“Look how good Curtis looks in his jersey,” Wanda gushes.
Ari looks pretty good too, you almost say out loud. And Steve too.
Both Ari and Steve were very similar on the court. Both the respective captains of their own team, you observe them ordering their teammates around, calling out strategies and gameplans, hyping the players up. They moved around similarly too, both so big and beefy and yet so fluid and lithe when dribbling the ball across the court. They were both clearly the most talented players out of everyone, yet you couldn’t tell who was better between the two of them.
“C’mon Rogers, is that the best you can do!?” Ari taunts after shooting an easy three-pointer about a minute into the game.
Steve rolls his eyes before beckoning one of his teammates closer. He’s a brunette with “Barnes” printed on the back of his jersey. The two of them confer for a few seconds while Ari and Curtis laugh and gloat with their own teammates. Then the coach blows the whistle again.
You zone out for a while, the maroon and blue jerseys becoming a blur as they whiz across the court. A bunch more points scored, the roar of the crowd, Wanda shrieking happily every time Curtis scores or jogs close to your seats. You, however, are much more interested in the way Steve had brazenly felt you up just now before this practice match had begun. Or how Ari hadn’t even looked at you when he’d come over to confront Steve. Or how…
“You fucking tripped him.” Steve seethes, the frustration in his voice carrying across the court and making you refocus on the game which has suddenly halted. The blond looks pissed, a borderline lethal look on his face as he kneels down next to his teammate. The brunette, “Barnes” is on the shiny floor, clutching his knee in pain.
Ari shrugs, “No I didn’t.”
Curtis snickers behind him.
Steve gets to his feet and shakes his head, but he barely has time to react before Ari throws the ball at him. Hard. It hits Steve squarely on the chest before he catches it, his jaw twitching as he does.
“C’mon, Rogers. You got a sub for your friend or are we gonna have to call it like last time?” Ari grins.
The brunet called Barnes limps to his feet, “Nah, I can play.”
Ari frowns. But the coach blows the whistle and the game resumes. This time, you pay closer attention. You note how Curtis is playing dirty, shadowing Barnes till he’s nearly on top of him, even trampling on his feet a few times.
And it’s meant to just be a practice game, but Ari and Steve look like they’re playing in the basketball world championships – or whatever it was called, it’s not like you would know. Both look stone-faced and determined, stealing the ball from each other multiple times, blocking each other, not letting each other shoot. They seem to be within a game of their own, one which was mental almost as much as it was physical.
“Is that all you got, Steve?” Ari taunts as he steals the ball from the blonde.
“Shut the fuck up,” Steve mutters, stealing the ball straight back.
Back and forth it goes, neither of them letting the other shoot. Taunting and jeering each other every chance they get.
“What’s the deal with them?” You find yourself asking Wanda, your eyes glued to the court, “Why do they hate each other so much? Has Curtis ever told you?”
Wanda shrugs, “All I know is that the last time our team played against Steve’s, he lost it and got a yellow card, making his whole team lose. Curtis told me that. Basketball is a competitive game, Y/N. I thought you knew that.”
This seemed more than just a silly sports rivalry, though…
“I fucking saw that, you bald fuck!” Steve rages at Curtis, halting the game once more. “If you trip another one of my guys one more fucking time–”
“You’ll what? Blow your top off and get another yellow card?” Ari smoothly steps in front of Steve, squaring up to the blond with a smirk on his face, “Not a single person in here would be surprised, pretty boy.”
In a flash, Steve has hold of the front of Ari’s jersey, “Keep fucking talking–”
Ari doesn’t back down, and your heart begins to thud like crazy as you watch them. They’re quite close to where you and Wanda are sat, but you have to lean forward to hear what exactly they’re saying.
“Not so fucking smug now, are you?” The brunet sneers lowly. “Thought you could dangle her in front of my fucking face? But you can’t keep a girl, pretty boy. And you can’t keep your cool either.”
They’re like two Adonises, one as ripped as the other. One every bit as tall and built as the other. One every bit as handsome as the other. And both with an equal look of hatred on their faces, a kind of deep-seated hatred that made you uncomfortable, that chilled you down to your bones as you sit frozen in place, watching it all unfold.
“Shut the fuck up,” Steve murmurs threateningly, a blue vein in his forehead looking like it’s about to pop.
Ari smiles coolly, “Or what? Gonna let your team down again, Rogers? Maybe a yellow’s not enough for you, maybe you’re aiming for a red card this time, huh?”
“A red card’s worth splitting your fucking skull–”
“ROGERS, LEVINSON, BREAK IT UP!”
You jump when both the teams’ coaches blow their whistles, making their way over to the two captains. Curtis drags Ari away, and a guy with “Wilson” on his jersey, as well as Barnes both pull Steve in the other direction too. A five-minute recess is called, and you can’t believe what you’ve just seen.
In his team’s respective corner, you watch as Ari snatches up a bottle of water and takes a long swig before pouring the rest of it over his head, as if to cool himself down. Swivelling your eyes, you see Steve in his team’s corner of the court, his hands curled into fists by his side as Barnes and Wilson speak lowly to him. But his blue eyes seem far, far away. And his jaw remains tensed, a dark, almost unreadable look on his face.
The game resumes, but this time it feels different. The dynamic between the two men is completely juxtaposed from what it was the night of the party. Then, Steve seemed in control, laughing as Ari lost his cool. Now, it’s the complete opposite. Ari seems to have recovered from the scuffle, resuming his taunts and insults as he dribbles the ball up and down the court like a pro. But Steve is somewhat out of it, still playing well but almost as if he’s out-of-sync with himself, as if his mind is elsewhere.
And Ari seems to have picked up on it.
“What’s the matter, Rogers? About to lose it again?” Ari snickers after he’s dodged Steve and scored another three-pointer.
Steve says nothing.
St. Andrews (Ari’s team) is up by three points. There’s no scoreboard as it was just a practice and not an official match, but there’s a freshman in the front row – Jake Jensen – who’s acting like a play-by-play commentator.
“Will Steve Rogers lose his marbles and cost his team another match?” Jake speaks into his headset in a suspenseful tone, “Will this all-star athlete crack under the pressure? Will he succumb to the opposition’s tireless taunts? Will the golden boy lose his cool once more? Will he–”
Steve swiftly tosses the ball aside, and the ref barely has time to blow the whistle to call for a time out before the blond grabs Jake Jensen by the collar and hoists him up in the air as if the freshman weighs nothing more than a feather.
“You say one more fucking word, I’ll shove this headset up your fucking ass, got that?” Steve shoves Jensen back in his seat before throwing the poor freshman’s headset at his face, knocking his glasses off. Jake swallows and nods, his mouth clamped shut and a frightened look on his face.
You bite your lip and watch as Steve returns to the game. He’s still got that far-away look in his face, as if he isn’t quite one hundred percent there. He also looks agitated, rattled, unnerved. You feel wary of him, and yet at the same time you also feel a pang of pity, a part of you wanting to go up there and give him a hug despite the fact that you don’t know him like that.
The game starts up again, and quite frankly, you really just want this damned practice to end already. The atmosphere is so intense, so thick, you could practically cut through it with a knife. Steve scores a point, then Ari does, then Steve, then Ari – it’s almost like they’re playing a one-on-one match and everyone else on the court is a paid actor.
“You’re losing your edge, pretty boy,” Ari starts his taunting once more, “Do it. Lose it. Let everyone down, Rogers. Show everyone what a–
“GODDAMIT, JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
Steve explodes. What happens next happens very quickly. Steve, in a fleeting fit of rage, throws the ball straight at Ari’s face. Hard. Except Ari dodges it just in time. You hardly register what happens after that, and –
THWACK.
The ball hits you right in the face.
Commotion around you. Yelling. Whistles blowing. People talking. Whispers of your name. You think you even hear a snicker from right next to you. And yet you hardly take in any of it, trying your best to catch your breath. Your ears are ringing, your face burning with immediate pain.
Oh god, oh god, oh my god!
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Ari roars at Steve.
You try and find your voice, try to voice that you’re okay, try to grab for Wanda’s hand but it’s like you’re stunned into place. And truth be told, you’re not okay. The whole right side of your face where the basketball hit you hardest throbs in pain. You can even feel the tears brimming in your eyes. Oh, but you can’t cry here, you just can’t! But it hurts! Oh, it hurts so bad!
The next thing you know, you’re being scooped up into someone’s muscular arms.
“Are you okay?” It’s Ari. You blink several times to clear your fuzzy vision. Were you imagining him? No, his arms feel very solid and familiar around you as he lifts you up, carrying you out of the crowd and to the side of the court.
“It hurts!” You can’t help but whimper, feeling like a baby. A disoriented, helpless baby.
“Oh my gosh, is she okay?!” You hear Sharon run up to you two. Shit. Ari wouldn’t be caught dead holding you in his arms in front of his girlfriend, would he? Despite your disoriented state, despite all the pain, you brace yourself for him to drop you.
“Go get some ice,” Ari orders her. “There’s an ice box in the locker room. Go.”
You’re too preoccupied with your throbbing face to really notice Sharon’s reaction, but she dutifully does what he tells her.
“It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” He murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face.
“I’m sorry,” Now you hear Steve’s voice, a scuffle which was him probably pushing past people. You try to straighten up in Ari’s arms so you can look at the blond, but dizziness overtakes you. You can still hear him though, despite the ringing in your ear, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“You stay the fuck away from her,” Ari growls.
“Shut the fuck up, I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m talking to you, asshole. You’ve already done enough.”
Ari walks away with you in his arms. You’re finally able to look over his shoulder as he carries you, and catch one last glimpse of Steve just standing there. He’s staring at his hand, flexing it in front of him as if he can’t believe what he’s just done. But it wasn’t his fault, was it?! You can’t think straight, and your face throbs with pain if you try to touch it.
“I can’t fucking believe him,” Ari fumes, as he walks the two of you into a bathroom off the side of the court. You welcome the privacy, being away from the multiple pairs of eyes that had been ogling you when the basketball had hit your face. He gently sits you down on the sink before grabbing a first aid kit that’s conveniently in one of the drawers. “I told you he was trouble, didn’t I? Now he’s physically attacked you in front of everyone. He’s a fucking psychopath–”
“Ari, it hurts,” you interrupt, your voice all wobbly.
The brunet’s features soften. He’s got an ointment in one hand, but he uses his other one to brush your cheek, coming up to stand between your dangling legs.
“This’ll numb the pain.” He says, his voice soft like a cloud. And you’ve never felt this type of softness from him before. Especially not in the past few weeks whilst he’s been giving you the cold shoulder. He spreads the numbing ointment over and around your eye, and you sigh, feeling a little relief.
“That’s a good girl,” Ari murmurs, his hand coming to rest on your leg and giving it a squeeze, “He got you straight in the eye, that dumb fucking prick. It’s definitely gonna bruise, but you’re doing so good, baby. You’re being such a brave little girl.”
Oh god, the way he was speaking was giving you butterflies! Why was he doing it? Did he still care about you?!
“Why are you being so nice?” You blurt out, the pain on your face making you deliriously bold.
Ari snorts, squeezing your thigh, “Baby, I can be nice. You know that.”
Well, he’d been awful these past few weeks. He’d been awful to you the night of the party, too. And yet… You can feel yourself slipping, getting lost in his blue eyes that seem to be sparkling with earnesty, and– No! No, you weren’t going to let yourself go there. Not this time!
“Y-You weren’t being so nice to Steve tonight.” You accuse, trying to shake off the romantic tension that seems to be creeping up on both of you, trapping you in that bubble of desire that you always seem to find yourself in alone with him.
Ari scoffs. “Don’t defend that asshole, not after he gave you a black eye.”
“He didn’t mean to!”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him? That he was bad news?” Ari’s hand doesn’t leave your bare thigh, and you’re acutely aware of his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Now he’s gone and hurt you just like I knew he would.”
“You were goading him the whole time, Ari!”
“That doesn’t give him the excuse to physically assault you.”
“That’s not what it was!” You try to frown, but it makes your eye throb with pain, and you wince instead.
“Well, either way, you’re never gonna see him again after tonight.” Ari declares.
Your jaw drops open, “Excuse me?”
He meets your gaze squarely, the hint of an amused smile touching his lips, “You heard me. He’s too volatile, and if you had listened to me, you’d know that.”
“He only blew up like that because you wouldn’t stop insulting him!”
It’s his turn to frown, “He blew up like that because that’s who he is.”
You regard Ari suspiciously, “How do you know him so well?”
Ari sighs, suddenly devoting all his attention to screwing the cap back on to the ointment bottle. He takes his time, carefully placing the bottle back in the first aid kit before he refocuses on you. You expect him to answer your question, but instead he cups your face (the side that hadn’t been hit by a basketball).
“Sweetheart, the bottom line is that he hurt you.” Ari’s voice drops a few octaves, his face suddenly so close to yours, so close that you can see his long lashes flutter as he blinks, “I didn’t like that.”
You bite your lip, goosebumps running up and down your arms. You feel a sudden sense of dejavu – being in a bathroom with Ari alone like you were all those weeks ago at that party. The bathroom where he’d left you. “Wh-Why didn’t you like it?”
“You know why.” He moves even closer, his lips looking so plump and pink…
“No. Tell me.”
“Because I care about you. And I’m sorry for leaving you alone that night.”
Tenderly, he kisses you. And you don’t even fight it, easily melting into it despite everything. Despite how much you’d coached yourself not to fall for him again. His lips just feel so good, so natural, so him. And he’s holding you so gently, almost like you’re made out of glass. It’s like it’s a different Ari that’s kissing you now, so different from the man you’d gotten to know, from the man who’d hurt you and lied to you countless times.
The two of you pull apart, before instinctively pulling back in for another kiss. And you don’t know if it’s you or him that initiates the second one, but it’s like there’s an invisible string between the two of you, keeping you connected no matter how hard you try to run away.
“Ari,” you whisper against his lips, “Ari, what does this mean?”
He says nothing, continuing to peck at your lips. His hand slips up your skirt, but you quickly grab it to halt him. No, you needed answers this time before you took it any further.
“Y-You said you care about me.”
“Yeah, I did. I do.”
“Are you going to break up with Sharon?”
Silence.
And just like that, the bubble pops. You crash back down to reality. Your black eye throbs, your heart throbs, and now your head’s throbbing too. Sighing sadly, you push Ari away.
“Hey, look, I’ll figure something out.”
You shake your head, “I don’t have time for you to figure something out, Ari. It’s either me or her. Because honestly, Sharon doesn’t deserve this and neither do I. And I’m not going to start sneaking around with you again if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Ari doesn’t say anything, but his eyes look torn. He opens his mouth as if to say something before clamping it shut again and sighing. Running a hand through his mane, he leans forward as if to kiss you again, but you turn your head, not wanting to give in to the temptation a second time.
His silence is all the answer you need. With a heavy heart, you sigh.
“We need to pull the plug on this – whatever this is.” You say firmly, “and maybe it’s time for me to see other people so I can properly move on from you.”
Immediately, Ari’s eyes narrow, “What, like Steve? I already told you he’s dangerous.”
“He likes me and he’s not afraid to be seen with me in public!”
“He’s not afraid to physically assault you in public, that’s for sure.”
Round and round the two of you went, in this never-ending circle of fighting then making up then fighting again. It needed to end. You had to end it.
“Steve asked me out earlier today, and I think I’m going to go.” You scoot off the sink, feeling a bit shaky on your feet but overall alright enough to walk away.
“No, you’re fucking not.” Ari blocks your path, looking frustrated beyond belief. “Look, the only reason he even asked you out is because he wants to get back at me.”
Your jaw drops open for the second time in the span of five minutes. Angrily, you push past him, “You’re a fucking dick, Ari.”
“I’m not saying it to hurt you, I–”
“No, just shut up!” You interrupt, “Another guy asks me out and you can’t help but make it about yourself, can you? Because God forbid a guy likes me for me, right? Fuck you.”
He opens his mouth to as if to say something, but the door to the bathroom pushes open at that exact second.
“There you guys are!” Sharon huffs, looking red and out of breath, with a bag of ice in her hands. “It took me ages to find the ice box, are you okay?!”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” You answer, but she insists on icing your eye for you. It makes you feel even worse, standing there and allowing her to gently press the ice against your injury. The physical relief is instantaneous, but you feel icky on the inside. Yet again, you’d kissed her boyfriend behind her back. And it was even worse since you and her were kind of friends now.
Ari slips out of the bathroom without another word, and you watch over Sharon’s shoulder as he leaves. As he disappears down the corridor until he’s just a shadow, and only then you allow yourself to let out a long sigh. There. It was done. You and Ari were over now.
Forever.
***
“Sorry again for the black eye,” Steve says, his hand pressing against the small of your back as he leads you up the cobblestone pathway to his front door. “I promise I don’t usually have to resort to violence to get a girl to go out with me.”
It’s been a week since the fateful basketball practice game. Steve had texted you that very night, apologising over and over again for throwing the ball at your face. You were forgiving, naturally. It wasn’t his fault, and it’s not like he was aiming for you anyways. After that, the conversation had quickly flowed over to other things, and you found Steve easy to talk to over text. It wasn’t as intimidating, and he led most of the conversation, telling you how he’d love to take you out that weekend. The two of you had texted all week – and it was a welcome distraction from Ari, anyways.
Now, you giggle, feeling all glowy and special because the day of your date is finally here. You’re outside, the sun is shining and Steve’s confidently taken your hand in his. In comparison, you can’t even remember the last time you’d held hands with Ari – or if you’d ever held hands with Ari for that matter.
“That’s alright, Stevie. Just as long as you promise not to do it again, I don’t think I’d fare well as a battered and abused wife.” You answer before your eyes widen once you’ve realised what you’ve said. Had you just referred to yourself as his… wife? On your very first date? God… What the fuck was wrong with you?
But Steve only smirks, pulling you up the stairs leading to the front door of his house before yanking you into him, taking you by surprise. Your face collides with his hard chest as he kisses the top of your head. Your cheeks immediately go hot – he was so forward sometimes! No. All the time. He was incredibly forward all the time. And you don’t think you mind it in the least.
“Trust me, sweetheart. If you were my wife, I wouldn’t have allowed you to run around in that slutty little outfit at practice in front of so many feral basketball players.” He says, grabbing his keys from his pocket and going to unlock the door.
You bite your lip, “Are you calling yourself feral?”
His gaze is intense as he looks back at you, but then he chuckles, “Baby girl, with you prancing around in that tiny excuse of a skirt, who wouldn’t be feral?”
Your eyes widen and you stare down at the floor again, cheeks forever hot at his way with words. Steve smirks, pulling you inside. You find yourself in a massive foyer. You’d never seen anything like it, because the front door to your family’s house back home simply led into a living room. But this place was all marble floors and crystal chandeliers and grand staircases – like a fairytale palace.
Everything leading up to this moment had felt surreal like a fairytale. Steve had picked you up promptly at 4pm, just like he said he would. And he’d checked every box on the imaginary first date checklist in your mind that you didn’t even know you had. His hair was all windswept and gorgeous, starting to grow longer down his neck. His face was clean-shaven, blue eyes sparkling as he’d kissed you on the cheek when you’d opened your dorm room door to greet him.
With your hand grasped tightly in his, he’d tugged you to his car. Held the door open for you, helped you inside and he’d even secured your seatbelt for you.
“I’m so excited!” you’d blurted out when he’d got into the driver’s seat. And Steve had smiled, leaned over the console and kissed your forehead, murmuring in agreement. And it had made you swoon, your eyes widening at how forward he was, how comfortable he was with you when this was only the first date.
And then he’d grabbed your chin and looked at you with those intense eyes, “Baby girl, you know what would make this date even better?”
Entranced, you’d asked him: “What?”
His features had hardened for a second, and his grip on your chin tightened all of a sudden too, “You don’t mention Levinson tonight. Or ever again. Not when you’re with me. You got that?”
Your jaw would’ve dropped open had he not been holding your chin so hard. But you’d shaken your head hastily, not wanting to do anything to upset him or ruin your first date, “O-Of course, not, Steve, I wouldn’t, I–”
“I’m serious,” Steve had said softly, and yet he sounded almost threatening, “I hear his name come out of your mouth even once, and I’ll be very angry. Got that?”
“Y-Yes, Steve.”
“And if I find out you’re dating me just to make him jealous, I won’t be happy. Understood?”
You had swallowed harshly. Was that what you were doing? Oh, you didn’t even know! But you decided to focus entirely on Steve after that.
“I understand.”
And then he’d changed, letting go of your chin and shooting you a winning smile. His demeanour relaxed once more as he’d started up the car, and all the tension in the air dissipated. He began complimenting your dress, your hair, telling you how beautiful you looked and how much fun the two of you would have tonight. His warm hand patted your bare leg, and then it stayed there for the duration of the car ride, making you relax, making it seem as if that moment had never happened.
And that’s how you’d ended up at Steve’s house. And sure, it was a bit strange that you were at Steve’s house for your first date with him. But he’d said something about checking on a few things at home before he took you out. It was a casual date anyways, so you didn’t mind. Plus, he looked so handsome and earnest in his pressed white shirt and navy jacket, how could you ever say no?
“This place is huge,” you can’t help but marvel.
Steve shrugs, “I guess. It’s pretty empty nowadays – my parents are both surgeons and they travel overseas a lot to perform big surgeries. And I live on campus at the frat house, so it’s just my little sister here now. I like to check in on her every now and then.”
Oh, he was so sweet! Nothing like Ari, who was looking worse and worse by comparison. Ari, who never took you out on dates. Who only ever wanted you for sex. Whose love language seemed to only consist of lying to you, and the only times he was ever sweet was when he was manipulating you…
And yet… despite everything, your mind flits back to the way he’d carried you off when Steve’s ball had hit your face. How tenderly he had stroked you and tended to you. How sweetly he’d kissed you, making the butterflies in your tummy grow alive with excitement and nerves.
Stop, stop, stop thinking about Ari!
“So, where are we going for our date?” You ask brightly, letting Steve grab your hand again as he pulls you through a large, carpeted corridor.
“Oh, you’ll see,” Steve says vaguely, “But I thought we could hang here for a while. Do you want anything to drink?”
He leads you into a modern yet grandiose looking front room, with luxurious leather couches and a fireplace and an ornate coffee table that looks more expensive than your whole house back home. There’s also an open plan kitchen, also modern and minimalistic, and Steve drags you over, pulling out a chair and pushing you down by the shoulders to sit at the marble island.
“Water is fine.” You answer politely, not wanting to ruin your appetite before the date itself had even begun. Again, you start to wonder what he has planned for you two… A cute café? A posh restaurant? An aesthetically pleasing diner, even? Your heart somersaults excitedly at all of the potential prospects. The closest you’d ever gotten to a date before this was Ari ordering Nobu to your dorm room and the two of you eating on your bed while you forced him to watch Gossip Girl with you on your laptop…
“What’re you smiling about, gorgeous?” Steve interrupts your thoughts.
“Huh? Nothing.”
He shakes his head and gives you another one of his charming, lop-sided smiles, “You sure you want just water? We’ve got some good bottles of wine down in the cellar. Or I could mix you a drink, although I’ll warn you now, I’ve been told I’m a bit too generous when it comes to measuring out the alcohol.”
Your eyes widen – was it a thing to drink before a first date? You didn’t know, since you’d never been on a date in your whole entire life. Would you look dumb if you just stuck to water? Could he tell how much you were currently overthinking things? It’s not like you were against drinking – it’s just that you had done so much of it on the night of the party that you were looking to steer clear. Plus, you wanted to be completely sober for your first date, and–
Steve chuckles, “Okay then, water it is.” He tosses you a bottle of still water and you catch it gratefully. Unscrewing the cap and taking a swig, you watch him as he moves around the kitchen island, settling down on the seat next to you before grabbing your chair and pulling it over till you’re very close to him.
“I’m really happy you said yes to this date, baby girl,” he says in that intense way that he speaks, all up close and his blue eyes sparkling like a crystalline lake where the sun’s hitting it just right. It reminds you of Ari’s eyes, actually – and it was crazy how both Steve and Ari had the exact same shade of blue eyes.
“Oh, uh, I’m happy too,” you say shyly, gulping as he pulls you even closer, his hand coming to rest on your bare thigh. He strokes your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he fingers the lacy hem of your sundress.
“And I love this little dress you’re wearing,” His voice lowers, and your lips part as you watch his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows, his face so close to yours. “I love that you wore it for me today, sweetheart. You did wear it for me, didn’t you? Just me?” His grip on your leg hardens slightly, but you’re too busy focusing on his long lashes to even notice.
“Y-Yes, I thought it would look cute for our date,” you breathe, acutely aware of his fingers playing with the soft material of your dress, lifting it up slowly.
Steve smirks, “You do look cute, in your pretty pink dress that you wore just for me.” He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you forward, his eyes hooded and lips hovering over yours. Just an inch away, and your heartrate quickens, and you move closer–
“Steve! I thought I heard you come in!”
You and Steve spring apart when a girl appears in the doorway of the kitchen. But her wide smile is immediately replaced by a look of embarrassment and even fear the moment she sees that you’re there too.
“O-Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had company…” she stutters, backing out of the room.
“Kira, wait, don’t go,” Steve jumps up and grabs the girl’s arm before she can escape, “Come meet my date. Babe, this is my little sister, Kira.”
For some reason, when Steve had mentioned his little sister living here earlier, you’d automatically just assumed there was a pre-teen running around somewhere in the house with a live-in nanny chasing after her. But Kira looks about the same age as you, and she also looks somewhat petrified. Standing there next to her brother, wringing her hands together and barely being able to make eye contact with you.
“Hey, Kira, it’s nice to meet you.” You say pleasantly, and she returns your smile awkwardly for a nanosecond immediately looking back down at her feet, as if she felt embarrassed in her own skin. She’s pretty, with pale skin and blonde hair just like her brother. But Steve was big, assured and confident, whilst Kira looks extremely shy, with a slight build – much smaller than him. Her hair is scraped back in a tight plait down her back, and her glasses were slightly crooked on her face.
“Hey,” she whispers softly, and she looks at you for a second or two, but seems to grow alarmed when you meet her gaze. Quickly, she looks to the floor again, her fingers fidgeting nervously.
“She’s the girl I’ve been telling you about,” Steve says to his sister.
Your heart swells, and you beam up at him, “You’ve been talking about me?”
He gives you a wink, “Of course. You’re practically a household name, sweetheart.”
Kira clears her throat, backing away slowly, “I-I should go, uh, it was nice meeting you–”
“Stay, Kira, please!” Steve says, “We’re leaving in a second anyways, then you’ll have the whole place to yourself.”
The poor girl looked extremely awkward, and a part of you feels sorry for her as she stands there quietly, with Steve beaming next to her.
“I like your sweatshirt.” You say after a few seconds of silence.
“Th-Thank you,” Kira answers, glancing down at her front before shooting you another quick, tight-lipped smile. “I – uh – I thrifted it a while back.”
“I love thrifting! I’m new to the city though, so I don’t know any of the good places.”
“Kira could show you around!” Steve suggests. You nod politely. Kira smiles too, but you can tell she still looks mortified. You try not to make it obvious, but you’ve noticed how her hands are shaking as she keeps them clasped in front of her. A part of you can relate – you still get shy and awkward around people you don’t know, too.
Kira starts backing out of the room again, “I – uh – I’m so sorry, I have a report, I–”
“No, please! You’re good!” you say, “It was really nice to meet you!”
“You too,” she answers, before leaving the room and closing the door gently behind her.
A few beats pass before you speak.
“She seems really nice,” you say, taking another sip of water.
Steve nods, looking distracted as he watches after his sister through the glass pane of the door. His smile from earlier is still plastered on his face, but it no longer seems to reach his eyes. The atmosphere, the air itself, suddenly feels heavier, different in a way, and you can’t quite pinpoint what it is.
When Steve finally looks at you, he’s got a dark look suddenly shrouding his face. But he smiles nonetheless, grabs your hand and pulls you up to your feet, “Yeah, she’s great. I know she didn’t talk much but that’s only because she tends to get really anxious around people she doesn’t know. But I promise you, she’s a good kid.”
“I totally understand.”
“No really, if you get to know her, she’s a lot of fun. She doesn’t really go out much…” His voice trails off, but you feel him squeeze your hand tighter as he leads you out of the kitchen and into a spacious corridor.
“I get that,” you answer honestly, wondering if you should say anymore or whether it would be overstepping. But Steve still looks distracted, and you want to show him that you’re present and attentive and interested in what he’s telling you – which you are. “Honestly, I get it. Does she have a good group of friends at her college? I know that friends can be–”
“She went to your college.” Steve interrupts you.
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “She goes to St. Andrews’? No way, that’s so cool! I don’t think I’ve seen her around but that’s probably ‘cause the campus is so big, but wow, I–”
“No, she used to go there,” he says, stopping in front of what you assume is his bedroom door, and turning to look at you with a peculiar expression. Steve, always so forward with his emotions, but right now his blue eyes gaze at you with a look that’s almost unreadable, and his words come out blunt. “She doesn’t go there anymore. She dropped out.”
Oh.
You can feel his hand clutching yours very tightly, his grip almost crushing. And yet, despite the physical contact, he seems far away. Like he’s lost in his own world, like there’s something brewing inside his head but you can’t seem to read him and figure out what exactly it is. His full lips are pressed into a thin line, and his other hand grips the doorknob tightly for a handful of long seconds before twisting it and pulling you into his room.
“Steve, I…”
He shuts the door before turning to face you once more, and he’s still got that stormy, distant look on his face, a look you’ve never seen before now. It’s almost eery, how quickly his demeanour had changed. Just a minute ago, he was being charming as hell…
But then his face suddenly relaxes, lips twitching into that lop-sided smile of his. The familiarity of it relaxes you too, makes you not fully notice how it still doesn’t reach his eyes as he tugs you into him.
“Why did she drop out?” You breathe.
Steve’s face is so close to yours, his blue eyes blazing and his jaw tensing and untensing almost rhythmically. He sucks in a breath, his charming smile freezing on his face as he looks somewhere beyond your shoulder.
“She just didn’t have the best time there,” his eyes darken, the grip he has on your hand not relenting in the slightest, “There were some people – one person – who just…” He trails off once more, before his gaze suddenly snaps back to you, and he clears his throat, “It was just one of those things where she decided it was best for her to drop out. That was last year, and she’s taking some courses online now.”
“I’m sorry, Steve. That must’ve been so tough for her,” you exhale, unaware that you’d been holding your breath in.
He nods, and you watch him closely. His eyes twitch before he smiles once more, pulling you towards his bed, “Yeah, it was.”
He backs up till he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling you on top of him till you’re straddling his lap. Automatically, your arms wind around his neck, and you don’t think you’ve seen a more intense-looking pair of eyes than his in that moment. Neither of you say anything, but his fingers dance up and down your bare legs. Slip up your hips and give them a squeeze, and you bite your lip.
He kisses up your neck, the first few being feather-light before they grow more frenzied. His hand cups your ass through the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze that has you breathing hard.
Wait, what was happening? Just a second ago he was opening up to you about his sister, and now…?
“Steve, what’re you – ah – wh-what about our date–?”
He’s got a glint in his eye when he looks up from kissing your skin, “I didn’t forget about our date, sweetheart. I just thought we’d take a little detour first.”
Oh. Okay. It’s easy to grow distracted when his kisses on your skin are making the butterflies spiral and flutter in your tummy. You want to melt into his arms, let him kiss you all the rest of the day and all night too. Let him take you on this amazing first date that he’d painstakingly planned for you, and in doing so erase the thought and touch of Ari from your mind completely, till your body forgets about the man you’ve been nonstop thinking about for the past month. Maybe this was it, maybe it was time for something new. Someone new. All Ari ever wanted from you was sex, but Steve? Steve was different.
“I wasn’t – ah, Steve – I have to say, I wasn’t planning on kissing you until the end of the date, definitely not before it,” you giggle, pushing at his chest to try and get a word in as he tugs the strap of your dress aside and trails his lips down your shoulder blade.
You feel him smirk against your skin, “Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll be a gentleman and save our first kiss for the end of the date, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things right now.”
You feel your core thrum with excitement at his words, and you look up to beam at him except he’s too busy pushing your dress down to meet your gaze. The sun shines through the open window, making his hair glisten golden, and you wonder if the sunlight makes his eyes glimmer like that too. But he’s not looking at you.
“Steve,” you push at his shoulder, “Steve, won’t we be late for our date?”
His fingers find the zipper at the back of your dress, and with ease he unfastens it before looking at you, and his eyes are so dark, “Who’s planning this date, sweetheart? Me or you?”
You giggle nervously, “You, of course. But–”
“Who’s in charge?”
“Y-You, but–”
“No, no buts. We’ll go when I say we’re ready to,” he runs his hand down your bare back through the gap created by the open zipper of your dress, his calloused fingers running over your sensitive skin and making your heart skip a beat. His tone is distracted, and yet there’s a finality and authority to it that makes you listen to him.
Before you can think of a response, he grabs you by the waist and pushes you down on the bed before climbing on top of you. You gulp, a huge part of you so turned on by how in control he is, and yet it’s such a contrast from the easy-going Steve’s you’ve gotten to know today. But at the same time, you get a strange sense of dejavu, as if you’ve been in this situation before with him… But that wasn’t possible at all, was it?
“Stevie, please, my hair and makeup’s gonna get ruined!” You laugh, trying to bat him away as he kisses down your chest, pulling your dress down with him, “I worked really hard on it, you know!”
You wait for him to quip back, say something funny or charming to reassure you and make you feel all warm inside. Like how he’s been doing today ever since he picked you up from your dorm room. But he doesn’t reply at all, too focused on tugging your dress off. It’s crazy, almost as if his personality had completely switched since he’d dragged you from the kitchen into his room. He seems distracted, frenzied, unresponsive almost as he licks and nips at your chest.
And a large part of you wants to give in. You know your panties are soaked through, and it would be so easy to just relinquish control completely, till you did that thing where you went all dumb and submissive. But then… what about the date? You’d been looking forward to finally going out with a guy, really going out instead of just hanging out in a bedroom…
Was that all you were worth?
“Steve! Stevie, c’mon. I don’t wanna wrinkle my dress before our date–”
“Then just take it off,” he yanks at the fabric hard, and you hear a rip.
“My dress!” You cry, but he pins your arms above your head with just one of his hands before you can survey the damage. His face is hovering over yours, so close that his nose brushes against yours, and yet despite the closeness, his eyes look so far away. So dark and far away, even the sunlight from the window doesn’t seem to reach into them.
“Steve, please slow down–”
“C’mon, baby girl. The innocent act is cute but everyone knows you’re not exactly a prude…”
“Huh?”
His kiss swallows you whole, and his lips are so soft, so warm. They mould perfectly against yours, and you momentarily forget everything, your arms winding around his neck as you kiss him back. For a few seconds, it’s magical. It’s different from kissing Ari – but not at all in a bad way. When Ari kissed you, it felt like the whole world stopped moving, like everything came to a halt except him and you. But with Steve, it felt like the world was spinning doubly fast, making you feel light and heady and excited, like you were in the midst of a whirlpool, like Steve was consuming you whole.
But only for those precious few seconds, before he bites down on your lower lip, and you feel a jolt of pain. He ruts against you, his movements rough and animalistic. You make a sound of protest, but it’s drowned out by another loud rip, and you feel your dress coming further undone.
“Hey, stop!” you manage to pull away, the metallic taste of blood invading your tastebuds. You wipe your mouth, heart beating faster than a drum. You look down at your dress – the front of which has been ripped down to your waist, and a horrified feeling spreads through your chest. “M-My dress���”
“It’s not a big deal,” he tries pressing his lips against yours again but you dodge him.
“It is! H-How am I gonna go on our date if my dress is all ripped?”
Steve blinks, “We’ll figure something out, sweetheart.”
“No, wait! Please… I was looking forward to–”
He cuts you off with another rough kiss, his hands spreading the tear of your dress to expose your bra. He palms your breasts through the lacy material, and you don’t know whether to give in to the pleasure or address the sinking feeling in your chest. You’d gotten all dressed up for him, for this date! And now?
“S-Steve, can we please just stop for a second – ah!”
He pulls the cups of your bra down, his mouth latching on to your nipple. And oh, it feels so good! And yet…
You push him off you, “Please, Steve. Slow it down!”
Steve blinks, his eyes looking so deeply stormy, so dark and far away despite the fact that he’s making direct eye contact with you, “That’s strange.”
“What’s strange?”
He grips your chin roughly with his thumb and forefinger, “Playing hard to get isn’t really your strong suit, so I don’t get why you’re doing it now. You didn’t do it the night we met.”
He’s back on you once more in a flash, when his words haven’t even properly sunk in. His lips brush past your collarbone, kissing back down to your bare breasts. He circles your nipple with his tongue, grabbing your hands and squeezing them before bringing them up to his abs. Your breath hitches, the feel of his mouth on you… and his body, so hard and masculine and big, it’s got your mind clouding over. You almost forget what he’s just said…
You force out another giggle, although you don’t much feel like laughing anymore. “What do you mean? Look – ah! – please just stop for a second –”
“That’s not what you were saying the night of the party,” Steve mutters against your neck, pushing your hand past his waistband, his grip too strong for you to pull away from. “You clearly didn’t have a problem spreading your legs for me then.”
Your blood runs cold. What did he mean by that?
He gets rougher, biting and sucking on your nipples, manhandling your body till he’s got your legs spread and he’s slotted himself between them. Lewdly, he thrusts his clothed dick against your panty-covered pussy, and you suppress the need to moan. Your entire body’s screaming for you to just lay still and let him do what he’s going, because it feels so fucking good. And yet, once more, your palms press hard against his chest to push him off.
“Steve, stop, I don’t think–”
“Shut up.” He bites down on your nipple harshly and you gasp, continuing to push at him. How had his whole demeanour changed in such a short amount of time? Where was the sweetness and the charm he’d shown you less than half an hour ago?
“Wh-What, Steve, I–”
“You heard me. Don’t act like a nun all of a sudden, not when you let Levinson fuck you in the middle of a party in front of the whole fucking world.”
Your heart drops all the way down to the pit of your stomach. Your blood freezes up, making you go deathly still. You feel like there’s poison in your veins all of a sudden, turning all your insides into black tar. Your hands stop pushing him, dropping to your sides like you’ve forgotten how to use them.
Steve stops too, blinking suddenly as if he’s just woken up, as if he’s just been doused by a bucket of ice water.
“Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that–”
“Get off me.” Your voice sounds oddly thick, and you feel the sudden urge to cry.
Steve doesn’t budge, still on his knees on top of you. He frowns, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I said I’m sorry.”
“Get off me. Get off me. GET OFF ME!”
He does, regarding you carefully as he stands up beside the bed. Watching as you scramble to your feet, feeling disoriented, confused, hurt, used, upset – oh, and so much else! So he knew about what you’d done with Ari the night of the party… But for him to use it against you? After being so charming and perfect all day? You don’t know what to think anymore as your mind feels like it’s moving a hundred miles per second.
Steve sighs, reaching for your hand, “Baby, I didn’t mean–”
“I’m going home.” You say quietly, fixing your bra back into place before reaching behind you to zip your dress back up. Praying to God that you don’t struggle with the zipper just this once. And by some miracle, you get it zipped up in one go. Not that it does anything to rectify the fact that the front of your dress is torn down the top. Another wave of tears threatens to spill from within you.
Steve’s eyes narrow, “Home? Why?”
You stare at him incredulously before quietly making a beeline towards the doorway, holding the front of your dress together almost pitifully. You need to get out of here, get out before he sees you burst into tears.
Steve grabs your arm before you can get to the door.
“Look, let’s just go on our date. We can talk it out, I just said I didn’t mean to say that.”
You shake your head, “I just want to go home.”
His eyes flash dangerously, and you find your heart beating faster than normal as you shrink back, trying to tug out of his grip but to no avail.
“I fucking apologised.” He says sharply, “I’m taking you out now, so stop trying to leave.”
“You never wanted to go on a date with me.” You say shakily, tears welling in your eyes. And that’s when you realise it, like it’s just dawned on you that all of this… him asking you out, picking you up in his car, acting all sweet, introducing you to his sister… All of it was just so he could get you into his bed.
All men were the same. Ari, Steve, all of them…
“Don’t put words in my mouth. I do want to take you out, so let’s just go.”
Steve tugs hard on your arm, making you cry out in protest. His eye twitches, and he reaches down towards your face as if to tuck your hair behind your ear. But you can’t help but flinch, and then another realisation slowly dawns on you. You’re afraid of him.
You tug with all your might, freeing your arm from his and shaking your head profusely.
“I-I-I need to go home. Just, please. I need to–”
“GODDAMIT, I SAID I WANTED TO TAKE YOU ON THE GODDAMNED DATE.”
There’s a loud crack. You duck in fright, hands covering your face. When you peak through the gaps of your fingers, you see Steve breathing hard. His fist, driven straight through the wall, has created a massive hole and several cracks in the plaster.
Silence. Except for the sound of your heartbeat. You don’t even think you breathe; you’re so paralysed with fear. You watch Steve as he slowly removes his hand from the wall, as he examines his fist with an unreadable expression on his face. He flexes his fingers, and his whole hand looks red – as does his face. His jaw is tensed, almost to the point where it’s vibrating.
And then he looks at you.
“Look, I’m sorry. Sometimes I…” his voice trails off, and he shakes his head as if trying to clear his own thoughts. “Let’s just go on the date, okay? Just let me explain–”
“P-Please, just let me go home,” you beg, and it comes out as a broken, scared whisper. You can’t take your eyes off his fist, or the gaping hole in the wall. You’d seen men punch through walls in movies, but never in real life. Your heart still hadn’t calmed down, and now you’re even more sure you have to leave.
“Goddamit, why can’t you just listen to me?” He takes a step towards you and you flinch, cowering back once more as if he’s going to hit you next. Instead, he freezes, taking in your expression. He swallows, blinking several times. “Look, let’s just calm down. This doesn’t have to ruin the date, you can borrow something from Kira and I’ll buy you a new dress, alright?”
“I c-can’t, I…” you don’t even know what to say to him. What could you say? That you felt unsafe? Afraid? Not to mention, betrayed and used too? How could he possibly expect you to forget all that and go out with him?
You take a deep breath, tightly holding the top of your torn dress together with one hand. You dart towards the door, hoping to slip out without him catching you. But he’s too quick, and once again takes hold of your elbow just as you exit his room and come out into the hallway. This time, you can’t help the tears as they spill down your face.
Steve’s blue eyes flash once more, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Didn’t you hear what I just said? Borrow something from–”
“Let me go, Steve,” you tug once, before growing more panicked and tugging again, harder. “Let me go, let me go, let me go–”
“I’m sorry you feel scared, I didn’t mean for that. Sometimes I get like that – just stop fucking struggling for one second, okay?”
“Steve, let her go.”
Both of you look up to see Kira standing in her doorway across the hall. Steve’s grip loosens momentarily, and you take his distraction as your opening. You break free, hastily making your way down the stairs. You don’t dare look back, focusing on the steps beneath you because the last thing you want to do right now is fall.
“Let her go, Steve. Just… Just sit down.” You can hear Kira say.
“No, she can’t just leave. I need to–”
“Please, Steve. You’re freaking out again. I’m gonna have to call mom and dad if you don’t sit down right now.”
And that’s all you hear, both Steve and Kira’s voices fading as you descend further down the stairs. Through the kitchen, your shoes pitter-pattering over the marble floors of the lobby. The ornate front door is heavy as you pull it open, escaping to the fresh air outside. You don’t dare look back, too scared to see if Steve has followed you or not.
You’re halfway down the porch steps when you hear the door open behind you. You’re about to break into a run lest Steve grab you again, when–
“H-Here.”
It’s Kira. You turn around and she throws you something soft. A pink hoodie. Despite your frazzled, haphazard, frightened state, you can’t help but feel gratitude. You quickly put it on, and it smells sweet – like candy perfume. It solves the problem of your ripped dress, and yet it does nothing to calm your frenzied heart, or stop the tears that drip past your cheeks. You back away from the town-house quickly.
“Thank you, Kira. I need to go, I need to–”
She nods as if she understands, “W-Will you be okay?”
You bite your lip to stop from bursting into full on tears. All you can think right now is that you need to get away. Far, far away. Somewhere quiet where you can think, where you can straighten your thoughts out, somewhere where you’re alone. Away from Steve, away from Ari, away from boys like them, away from everyone.
You leave, hoping she’ll understand. After all, she’d helped you – and it wasn’t her fault that her brother had been so… so…
Oh, you don’t even know what’s just happened! Your speed walk turns into a slow jog before you all but break into a run, only slowing down once you’re off his street. How had he just said all those things to you? How had he known about Ari fucking you at the party? And what did Steve mean by you spreading your legs for him the night you’d met him?
He thinks you’re a slut, you realise. All he ever wanted from you was sex, and you were stupid, stupid, stupid to think this first date was going to be something special. Or anything at all apart from sex.
You feel like crying, screaming, sobbing, pulling your hair out. But you can’t do that here, not while you’re on some random street so close to Steve’s house. Instead, you take a few deep breaths to gather yourself. Wait until you get home, wait until you’re alone in your room, you coach yourself, desperately holding on to the single thread that’s keeping you together right now. When inside you feel all torn – he’d torn up your heart just like he’d torn up your dress.
You call an Uber, luckily only having to wait a minute or two before it arrives. The ride home is silent, you just stare out the window and try your hardest to keep your tears at bay. Oh, why couldn’t you be like those other girls? The ones who could easily find a boyfriend who loved them for them? Boyfriends who liked to hang out, go on dates, cook together? Why did no boy ever want that with you? Were you only ever worth their time when you spread your legs for them?
You feel numb by the time you reach your dorm building. It feels like you’re wading through cement as you forlornly walk inside, not even noticing the familiar car parked outside. You fish your keys out of your purse only to find your door already unlocked. You swing it open, ready to just burst into tears and sob into your pillow and–
“I broke up with her.”
Ari is sitting on the edge of your bed – you’d forgotten he still had a key to your dorm – with a bouquet of pink roses his hand. Pale pink, delicate, tied together with a pink satin ribbon. But you didn’t care, not anymore.
He stands up as you walk in, slowly shutting the door behind you. You hardly register him, your mind still racing with thoughts of: Steve used you; he didn’t really want you. No man could ever really want you. They all just want one thing. They all just–
“I broke up with Sharon,” Ari repeats. “It’s over between me and her. I told her I wanted to be with someone else.”
You still don’t say anything. He may as well be speaking in gibberish.
“Go away,” you say, but it barely comes out as a whisper.
Ari grabs you by the shoulders, his blue eyes sparkling. And he looks so devastatingly handsome, his hair brushed back, wearing a crisp white button-up as if he’s gotten ready just to tell you all this. “You were right, I should’ve done it a long time ago. But who cares, we can be together now.”
“Go away.”
“I told you I’d make you my girlfriend, didn’t I?” He says cockily, thrusting the pink roses into your hands. And yet the bouquet feels like nothing, like you’re holding on to air. Ari doesn’t seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm as he continues, “And now we can do all that shit you always told me you wanted to do. I’ll take you out somewhere nice, in fact we can go right now, we can–”
“Go away.” You say it much louder this time.
He hears you, his brows etching upwards in a frown as he regards you almost suspiciously. As he looks at you, really looks at you, slowly drinking in your shrunken demeanour, your dishevelled hair, the numb look on your face, the dried tears on your cheeks, how your eyes don’t quite meet his.
He squeezes your shoulders before his hands freeze, and you look up to see him staring at the hoodie you’re wearing. You see a flicker in his eyes, but it’s so fleeting it’s almost like you imagined it. He inhales deeply.
“Where did you get this?” He asks, before he grows distracted when his gaze flits over to your dress. Your poor, torn dress. His frown deepens, slowly turning into a snarl, “Who the fuck did this to you?”
You shrug out of his hold, feeling like you’re a million miles away, “Just go away.”
Ari’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw tensed up as he surveys you carefully. His hold on your shoulders never loosens.
“He did this to you, didn’t he?”
“Go away.” You feel like a broken record.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Ari’s features harden like stone, his fists curling at his sides as he surveys you. “I knew this would… Fuck, I can’t fucking believe–”
“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME!? I SAID GO AWAY!”
You erupt like a fucking volcano, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as if you can’t hold them in anymore. But you feel more rage than sadness: rage at him, at Steve, at yourself. You throw the bouquet of pink roses at his chest. Hard. They bounce off him at fall to the ground in a dejected heap. The look of seething anger on Ari’s face is replaced with one of shock, and then concern. But was it even real? Was it ever real when it came to you?
“Just get out of here, Ari!”
“He’s a piece of shit, and I’ll fucking kill him, alright? I promise he’ll never hurt you again.” Ari says it slowly, trying to step closer to you but you immediately push him back. One shove turns into two before you lose it, your tiny fists landing on his chest over and over again.
“I DON’T CARE, OKAY!? I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU DO JUST GET OUT OF MY FUCKING ROOM!”
You scream it at the top of your lungs. You’re pretty sure everyone in the building heard you, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything anymore. All you want to do is be left alone.
“Hey, hey, stop. Calm down.” Ari grabs your fists in his hands but all you feel is trapped. Like you did back in Steve’s bedroom. Like Ari’s about to administer his sweet manipulations once more so that you end up in bed with him. It was all you were good for after all, wasn’t it? You jerk away from him, shaking your head fiercely.
“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?” Ari looks like he’s at a loss, and yet at the same time he looks livid, “Hey look, you’re okay now. He can’t hurt you anymore, you’re okay. Just calm down–”
“Get out!”
You scream it over and over again, till your throat feels hoarse and yet you still don’t stop. You just want him out, want him gone. You push at him again, and then again, and he’s so strong and solid that he doesn’t even budge, and this makes you even more upset. He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, but there’s also a softness in his eyes but you don’t know if it’s real or if you even want it to be real anymore.
“Baby, you’re okay. Just calm down, you’re safe now, I won’t let him hurt you again.”
He sounds so soft, so kind, so unlike himself. He’s acting, you think to yourself. Acting just like how Steve was acting. He doesn’t really care about you. Neither of them do. You’re the idiot. You’re the fool. You’re the slut.
“GET AWAY FROM ME OR I’LL FUCKING SCREAM!”
Ari is the most stubborn man you’ve ever met, and he never takes orders from you, that much you know. And yet, by some miracle, he backs off. Maybe he sees how broken you look, how there’s nothing he could really do in this moment that wouldn’t just make you angrier, and push him away even more. You also believe there’s a large part of him that wants to genuinely kill Steve – for whatever reason – probably pride – and yet, you don’t care.
And so he does leave, but not before promising once more that he was going to murder Steve Rogers. He says some other things too, but you’re too distraught to even take them in. He tries to touch you again, but you bat him off, screaming even louder. Finally, he just leaves, an unreadable look on his face and his hands still curled into fists, undoubtedly going to find Steve.
And that’s when you collapse to the floor, the tears uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks as you cry and cry and cry. You grab the pink roses, and in a fit of uncontrollable rage, you rip them apart. Rip flower from stem, petal from petal, throwing them on the floor with such vitriolic rage and sadness all rolled into one.
Ripped flowers. Ripped dress. Ripped heart.
AHHHHH OMFG OKAY!
I want you guys to know that I literally don't even know if I like this. I do but I also don't... Basically I'm super insecure about it. Nevertheless, please do tell me what you think!!!! ANY SHOCKS?? ANY SURPRISES?!?! OMFGGGG.
I prepared a few questions, although you guys don't have to answer them!! These are just for fun hehehe.
So... whose team are you now on? Team Ari or Team Steve? Hehe.
Why did Steve's mood suddenly change during their date???
IS WANDA A GOOD FRIEND?!?!?!
Any ideas NOW on why Steve and Ari hate each other?? What could it have to do with... I wonder...
ANYWAYS thank you guys so so much for reading! I love you all so so much, please reblog and give me feedback as I live for that and sajdjag IDEK ENJOY ENJOY ENJOY
#ari levinson#steve rogers#ari levinson x reader#steve rogers x reader#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction
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If its ok what if
Lloyd hansen x reader x steve rogers
🥵 smutt
ya know, it took me a loooong time--this ask is from september--to come up with something, but today's the day apparently! And, AND! The lovely @darsynia made me an awesome graphic whilst I wrote all this filth! Thank you, bestie!!! WC 3.3k
Warnings for oh fuck these two are terrors, smut, goddamn fighting (obviously, bc they can't get along in any universe), possibly the worst fucking puns ever and I no longer care, terrible/inaccurate/but very mild dom/sub vibes, not much but knife play. Please note that this work does not involve the two men together. Alternate title: Ro is 1,000% [nope, better make it 1,000,000%] going to hell. MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you!
You can tell Steve is about to crawl out of his skin as the knife touches yours.
"You buy these pretty things for me?" Lloyd coos, tucking the point of his switchblade beneath a lacy seam. He knows damn well the navy set with bright red hearts is not for his enjoyment at all, so he turns his head to stare at your husband.
"Useless," Lloyd growls, flicking his wrist deftly.
The sliced fabric springs back to reveal your thatch of hair. You have no idea whether Lloyd was talking about your panties or Steve, and frankly, you're too turned on to care. There’s a certain amount of goading you expected aimed at the awkward hunk leaning on the far wall.
Steve clenches his arms tighter across his chest and sucks in a breath, eyes darting to your skin in case Lloyd drew blood, but his gaze lingers at your almost exposed core.
He hates this whole idea, but you have tried talking to him so many times about how to make sex more interesting. Steve can't stand to even listen to the words much less do what you want. This is the compromise.
Lloyd Hansen will do anyone for the right price, and sure, usually, that's killing, but who doesn't love a good fuck? Who wouldn't get half-hard just thinking about taking Captain America's wife to pound town right in front of the guy?
Lloyd simply smirks, returning his eyes to you and nudging the lace a little farther. The flat of the blade on your mound feels cold and so fucking dangerous that you shiver, neck tensing to throw your head back.
"How's that feel, pumpkin?"
"Golden," you whine, mewling when he nicks the other end and pulls your panties off. Lloyd doesn't like safe words and shit, but he agreed to a few check-ins, and you do have a way to stop him because, let's face it, the money is the real goal for him. The rest is gravy.
Lloyd stalks over to Steve's corner of the room, lifting the ruined garment for the other to take. "A souvenir--" he chuckles "--what's that smell like to you, huh, big man?"
Steve grimaces, unmoving, so Lloyd shoves your panties in his face.
"Smells like team spirit to me."
You should laugh. You really should. You should not fucking moan when you see Steve's chest expand and his eyes flutter shut briefly. You should not have such a surge of tingling heat race to your center that your thighs slam together.
But you do. And Lloyd notices.
"This is gonna be fun," he whispers, likely to himself, as he drops the fabric and walks over again.
His fingertips slide from your knee up your thigh, and Lloyd bends to nip at your neck.
"Lie back from me, sweetheart. Go on."
You have to cover a squeak while you flop onto the mattress. This sort of dominance is nothing like Steve Rogers even on his most confident day. Steve is always measured and a little tentative, his force reined in to the point of being boring after so many years. This is all flush and feral with the promise of oblivion, and in the strangest way, you still associate every second as with Steve, not Lloyd Hansen. The exercise in trust--the sheer fact that he was willing to entertain this idea, much less the practice--is a show of devotion from Steve you never thought possible.
And then Lloyd kneels down and pushes your legs apart. "Open up for me. That's it. Good girl."
"Ah fuck," you moan into your hand, and thank god if Steve does hear you, he doesn't say a thing.
Lloyd skips finesse and plunges into the dirty end of the pool by licking all the way up and down your cunt, hands spreading your ass to expose every bit of you to him, and he pauses to speak with his mouth against your clit.
"Do I need to give him a lesson or can I just fucking taste you?"
"I know how to--" but Steve's protest dies behind the noise Lloyd makes sloppily eating you out like a man starved.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his head, and your hips buck into the wild ride. His mustache burns in the best way. You gasp so much that your throat burns dry, too.
He says other things, things that rumble up your spine and settle deep in your brain, but you can't process what those words are until the white-hot lightning finally cracks your body apart.
Lloyd is shockingly soothing as you come back down from your high but unshockingly smug when he sweeps his face clean of your cum.
"You're doing star-spangled spectacularly for me, slut, now why don't--"
There's a thunderclap of noise that wrenches you out of your bliss. You’re knocked onto your side as Lloyd falls to the floor.
Steve raises his arm again but hesitates when you call his name.
"He doesn't...he doesn't do well with language like that," you manage to say, still fuzzy and out of breath.
Lloyd wipes blood from his nose. "Yeah, I picked up on that. Thanks,” he spits sarcastically, followed by a real spit to clear his mouth. “Down, boy. I'll play nice--" he winks at you as he rises "--but not too nice."
Lloyd climbs back to sit on the edge of the bed beside you, his hand spreading over your throat gently. "Feels good, don't it? Feeling golden?"
You nod vigorously.
He licks more blood from his lip. “Yeah? Can we move on, pumpkin, or is your pussy still needy—“
Lloyd catches Steve's fist this time, jumping up to punch your husband square in the neck.
Steve, to his credit, doesn't even go down, but he drops his arm and steps back, rubbing the point of contact as he wheezes for a minute.
"Can I please continue?" Lloyd screams in annoyance. The man is not in any way used to sharing, or going slow, or giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room for that matter. However, Lloyd is a dedicated professional, so he’ll continue because he knows what’s in it for him. "God damn it,” he barks, spitting at Steve’s feet.
Lloyd takes a beat to compose himself and returns to your side, facing away now, his hand plunging between your legs.
"Time to earn participation points, Golden Boy." Two fingers breach your entrance without warning. "On your knees."
Lloyd snaps his other fingers and points to the ground like he's training a dog to heel.
Slowly, with wide eyes and hesitant steps, Steve places himself exactly as Lloyd did before. He strategically keeps his focus glued to yours until the squelching sound of Lloyd's fingers thrusting in and out of you becomes too loud to ignore.
That look--that fucking moment where your husband sees your core and hunger darkens his whole face--could send you back over the edge right here, but suddenly, Lloyd stops.
"Now we've got his attention," the cruel man laughs.
Like your panties before, there's no ceremony to Lloyd shoving his fingers into Steve's awe-parted lips, but the biggest shock is how your husband doesn't fight the intrusion. No. Steve grabs Lloyd's wrist to keep him there until Steve is done sucking your taste off another man's fingers.
You're pretty sure that's when your soul left your body, but it's a toss-up between that and every other moment tonight.
With more patience than you thought possible, Lloyd waits, comically making an “O” with his mouth and looking at you. “Someone’s eager for the beaver, I see.” He takes the same wet fingers and tucks them between your breasts, snapping the front of your bra sharply against your sternum.
“Finish unwrapping your present. I wanna see what you got—” and when Steve immediately reaches behind your back for the clasp, Lloyd’s eyebrows bob up and down “—and he’s good at following orders, too.”
Your husband plants a gentle kiss on the swell of one breast before Lloyd stops him, tutting while he holds a fucking knife against Captain America’s chest to sit him back on his heels.
He ticks the blade down. “That’s your half now. This is mine.”
You’re practically panting while Steve’s eyes go hard in possessiveness, locked onto Lloyd in a challenge you don’t quite understand until the fancy man flips the blade back into it’s handle.
“Fine,” Lloyd grouches, tossing the knife farther up the bed. He shuffles closer to face you, a warm hand cupping your breast before he tweaks the nipple harshly. “Why don’t you relax for us, huh, good girl?”
Lloyd coaxes you to lean back again, orders Steve to hold your legs open and tease you, buries painful fingers in your hair, and forces you to watch.
“That’s it. Don’t you want to hear her beg? Doesn’t she sound so sweet? Oh, I like her desperate…”
Not in years has Steve Rogers whispered anything so filthy as the shit that falls from Lloyd’s mouth, but goddamn, every word is like kindling stoking the vigor with which Steve consumes you. You lap up the praise while your husband gulps down every ounce created by every word.
Lloyd lowers to suck and bite all over your chest, marks blossoming across the tender skin as he takes a sort of sweet revenge for his bloody nose. A kink for a kink.
“You want to tell him what’s next,” Lloyd rasps, straining your neck back to look at him in the last few moments before you come again, “or should I?” His devilish smile is the last thing you see before he pushes you to meet Steve’s eyes, the perfect, final flick of tongue rolling over your clit.
Dutifully—sweetly almost—Steve lifts away from you as your legs shake, replacing his face with his fingers to gently bring you down, and Lloyd does not like that. He swats Steve’s hand off to slap your raw bundle of nerves and shove his fingers in again, brutally hitting that spongy spot until the dam of orgasm doesn’t just rupture, it explodes inside you.
You cry out and flail. Lloyd pins you down with a knee to your ribcage, and it hurts but not enough to give a shit over the rush of cum soaking his hand and the sheets below. Steve holds your ankles so you don’t kick him in the face while squirming, transfixed on every move Lloyd makes to milk you stupid.
With one last wet slap, Lloyd rests his hand on your belly and tosses a gelled lock of hair out of his face.
“Wifey here wants to suck you dry,” he boasts, and your hands fly to your face in hot embarrassment.
You confessed that after drinking quite a lot during the ‘negotiation’ of terms for this little arrangement, but only when Steve excused himself to the restroom. Lloyd wasn’t supposed to repeat your fantasy.
“That’s right, big guy. She’s gonna blow your—“ his eyes drop and raise “—mind,” he continues, unpinning you and pushing your arms to the side. He leans down to smear your own slick across your mouth messily, quietly adding, “he won’t even notice I’m right behind you.”
The air rushes out of your lungs before you can stop it, making a downright pathetic sound of anticipation.
“Strip,” Lloyd commands, waving a hand casually at Steve and sauntering over to a bottle of water on the dresser. “The…uh…lady should get on her knees.”
Steve turns to the other wall, unable to meet your eye, bright red blotches spotting his neck and cheeks. He’s embarrassed, too, but from the speed at which he unzips his jeans to relieve his still-straining erection and then pulls his shirt over his head, Steve is also painfully aroused. You even catch him rubbing his cock with each conceivable pass while disrobing. It reignites that weak fire between your tired legs.
“Face up, Captain. Give ‘er some room,” Lloyd snorts, capping his water.
Of course, Steve spreads his legs in front of you, and instead of acknowledging how fucking hard he is, he helps you balance into position.
You capture a quick kiss and smile as your husband blushes even more.
“Jesus, I’m gonna vomit,” Lloyd mutters behind you.
He’s just so, so fucking evil, but you admit the contrast has you drooling to get your mouth on Steve. You’re already planning on adding orders to your regular routine. You buzz with excitement at all this play implies, now and in the future.
Steve isn’t just letting this happen; he likes what’s happening.
Lloyd’s warm hand pets down your spine until it rests heavily on your lower back, the heel of it pressed against your spread ass, an encouragement and a threat.
“Take him how you want. Just like you told me.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to Steve’s ragged breaths amidst Lloyd's criticism.
“You don’t just lick him, do you, kitten? You can do better than that. I thought you wanted to swallow him whole. Don’t disappoint me now. More. You can take it. More.”
Your nose nuzzles into Steve’s pelvis as you feel his cock jump in your throat. You swallow around him but force yourself up for air after.
“Is that the best you got?” Lloyd teases, his hand sliding tauntingly down your crack and through your folds before he’s gone.
You open your eyes when he grabs your wrist and presses the closed switchblade into your palm.
“Go on. Hold it, pumpkin. Right there.” Lloyd makes your hand rest on Steve’s thigh. For balance, you have to open your fist and press the metal to your husband’s skin as you take him back into your mouth.
Steve fucking groans, pinching his eyes shut and grabbing the sheets beneath him.
“Oh yeah,” Lloyd chirps, “he likes a bit of danger, huh?” A flat hand cracks against your ass, making you whine with your lips around Steve’s dick.
The sound of Steve whimpering is coupled with the snap of Lloyd's belt. His fingers return, and you just know he’s unabashedly staring at your pussy.
“Whoo-ee, if you weren’t already gaping for me, I’d think you weren’t into this. Put your back into it.” You hear the rip of a zipper only moments before the thick tip of him lines up.
You can’t help but moan low and long over Steve’s length.
“Baby?” Steve breathes above you.
“She’s fine,” Lloyd answers instead, pushing in. The head of him pops past the first ridge of your walls, and his hand clamps down on your hip, the other flat over the small of your back, guiding, controlling.
The spit of both men coats your core and inner thighs, you remember, and the slow swirl of ambient air proves it. That thought makes your eyes roll back as much as the glorious pressure of Lloyd’s cock filling you.
But Steve’s fingers find your chin and raise you to look at him, repeating his question until you let him fall heavy from your mouth and lick your swollen lips.
“Golden,” you say just as Lloyd bottoms out. “Fff-ahh.” You barely stop yourself from cursing when he thrusts forward and another SMACK hits your ass. “Golden,” you promise, because you know Steve is watching with extremely mixed feelings.
You return what attention you can to stuffing your mouth full. A rhythm progresses while you rock between them, but it’s too gentle for—of all people—Steve.
His hand knots through your hair to guide you faster. You have to plant yourself steady on the mattress, the knife digging into both your flesh, and hold your hips still.
Lloyd isn’t even fazed as he takes over his own selfish pace, his balls slapping so hard they sting your thighs. He keeps talking, too.
“See how much she likes that, buddy?”
Oh, that is not going to go over well with Steve.
“Bet she’d drop to her knees for you daily.”
He’s not wrong there…
“Damn, babygirl—“ Oh shit “—sometimes a bitch just needs fucked doggy-style.”
You can feel Steve’s chest fill to correct him, the deep v-line of his Adonis’ belt pressing against your nose to cut off your air, but Lloyd purposefully slams into you. You lurch forward to deep-throat Steve with a scream of alarm, and the constriction nearly topples Steve over the edge.
Just for a moment, his hand holds you down, choking you. It’s Steve choking you on his dick, and your nails happily dig into his meaty thighs. You’ve dreamed of this day.
With a strangled sound, Steve pulls you off him, strings of spit drip from your abused mouth. You’re gasping for air but also not done enjoying yourself, so you lick and kiss up Steve’s length until ready to take him again.
All the while, Lloyd darkly chuckles and kneads at your ass.
When one spanking lands so hard that you cry out, Steve bucks down your throat and punches the bed, clearly torn between sensation and situation.
“Such an asshole,” he grits through clenched teeth.
“Oh,” Lloyd tuts, “she wants it in the ass? Well, when in Rome…” He swipes his thumb over the cream pooling at the base of his cock and shoves his thumb hard against your puckered hole.
Honestly, you have no idea if it even breached because you scream and fall forward on Steve's dick. This time, Steve comes with a roar, a raging, animalistic thing you have never heard before, but you’re pulled away just as fast.
Lloyd hauls you up to his chest, telling you to look at what a fucking mess your husband is for you. Steve desperately grips himself until it’s over, half his spend glistening on his abs, half rolling down your chin while Lloyd continues to thrust into your sweet spot.
He’s given up controlling his language entirely.
“Fuck, she’s close. Come on, big guy—“ he pinches your nipple and bites at your neck “—finish her off.”
Lloyd drops you like a stone into Steve’s waiting arms, and Steve wastes no time slamming his mouth to yours and furiously rubbing your clit. You’re so stretched out that three of his thick fingers feel like nothing until they curl.
This time you can’t help but shout your own curse. Steve just keeps kissing you, holding you two together as you writhe. You hardly notice Lloyd painting his cum across your back and ass but neither does Steve, it seems, because the next thing you know you’re laying beside your husband in bed while your guest grins in triumph.
“I’ll just take this,” Lloyd drawls, reaching beneath Steve’s bare leg to retrieve his knife. He slaps Steve’s ass, too. It’s as if Lloyd knows Steve will let him get away with just about anything in the post-coital fog. “Don’t want you to feel left out, buddy.”
Your husband makes no move at all except to kiss your forehead.
“How are you?” He smooths your wrecked hair out of your face.
“Oh wow,” you say with a rough voice and runaway breaths, “I’m golden, just golden.”
Lloyd grabs his water bottle, joking. “My work here is done, and you two—“ he swigs and swallows dramatically “—I don't mind repeat business from. Anytime. Fuck.”
He struts to the bathroom, pants still undone and hanging open, uncaring. With a shout, he slaps the top of the door frame.
“That’s America’s Cunt!”
Steve’s whole body tenses. “I hate that guy,” he grumbles into your sweaty skin.
You snuggle closer, surrounded by familiar body heat and musk. “I know. Isn't it great?”
Because it’s so, so true. There is nothing about Lloyd Hansen you actually want for one second longer than necessary. That's the beauty of teamwork: everyone serves their purpose.
Honorable mention to the line I promised but ultimately couldn't fit in (that's what she said):
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp
[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
#steve rogers fanfiction#lloyd hansen fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#steve rogers smut#lloyd hansen smut#steve rogers fanfic#steve x reader#18+ fanfic#ro answers
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Welcome to the Dark Side, We have Mpreg and eggs.
Angry Marcus stan, poly shipper, and fanfiction defender.
NSFW Account.
My birthday is February 9th if anyone cares.
While I may post some nsfw prompts and headcanons I don’t post actual nsfw fics on tumblr, even before the great tumblr purge
I may be trash but I do not tolerate bullying for people’s ships for almost any reason unless the ship is a pedo ship. We all have different headcanons and beliefs.
Fanfiction requests and inquiries may be sent to my askbox or my new public email, [email protected]
My only DNIS are terfs, pornbots and 60 plus year old men, thanks!
N/S/F/W things to ask me about:
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If I cannot do something I will either ignore the ask if anon or answer it privately off anon.
Main/Special ships:
Mareana (Marcus/Breana)
Tankam! (Adam/Tank)
Kazivana (Kaz, Breana and Oliver)
SteelCanary (Breana/Nate Heywood)
NightCanary (Breana/Dick Grayson)
Breana/Tecton (his name is too awkward for a ship name)
Dizzy (bad ship name but Douglas/Lizzy)
Breana/Megahertz (again, his name is too awkward for a ship name)
Breana/Tecton/Megahertz poly
Kazana (Breana and Kaz)
Olivana (Breana and Oliver)
Fandoms (a condensed list because I have way too many):
Lab Rats
Mighty Med
Lab Rats: Elite Force (even though most of EF canon was trash)
Mech-X4
Rick and Morty
Supernatural
Stargirl
Titans
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Daredevil (except it is 2021 and I have yet to watch season 3)
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Girl Meets World
Liv and Maddie
Ships Involving Canon Characters (not all just the mains):
AdamxTank
Chaz/Kase
Chaziver (Chase/Kaz/Oliver)
Brylar
Leo/Logan
Taylor x Kate
Destiel
Olicity
Saileen
Stony
Stucky
Foggy/Karen
Kaziver
FitzSimmons
Olicity
Clintasha
Pepperony
Techertz
Ships Involving OCs:
Marcus Henderson/Breana Davenport
Douglas Davenport/Lizzy Knight
Rick Tyler/Breana Davenport
Mark Walker/Breana Davenport
Nate Heywood/Breana Davenport
Sebastian|S-3/Ellie Frost
Dean Winchester/Breana Davenport
Ryan Walker/Breana Davenport
Breana Davenport/Leo Mendel
Rarepairs:
Ray Palmer/Nora Darhk/Nate Heywood
Probably more because I am a filthy, filthy multishipper
Crossover Ships:
Oliver Queen/Matt Murdock
Clint Barton/Leo Mendel
Donald Davenport/Leo Mendel
Poly Ships:
Ray Palmer/Nora Darhk/Nate Heywood
Poly Ships With OCs:
Dean Winchester/Castiel/Breana Davenport
Oliver/Breana Davenport/Kaz
Nate Heywood/Breana Davenport/Mick Rory (which is the ship portrayed in my contribution to the lab rats rp blogs)
Marcus Davenport/Breana Davenport/Steve Rogers
Tecton/Breana Davenport/Megahertz
This is not an exhaustive list and will be periodically updated
Tags to Filter instead of just blocking me (you should be filtering ships you don’t like in general):
Mareana - that’s Breana and Marcus
Kazivana - Kaz, Breana and Oliver.
sexy stuff - the nsfw/smutty stuff
#lab rats#mighty med#mech-x4#mech x4#arrowverse#supernatural#rick and morty#zoey's extraordinary playlist#stargirl#titans#daredevil#liv and maddie#girl meets world#best friends whenever
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I posted 6,726 times in 2022
That's 4,168 more posts than 2021!
1,793 posts created (27%)
4,933 posts reblogged (73%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@asirensrage
@vixenofcourse
@twinkly-lights-shine
@chickensarentcheap
@residentdormouse
I tagged 5,832 of my posts in 2022
Only 13% of my posts had no tags
#lol - 1,218 posts
#other people's ocs - 935 posts
#other people's manips - 480 posts
#asks - 436 posts
#other people's stories - 345 posts
#anon - 234 posts
#my asks answered - 232 posts
#darth caillic - 194 posts
#stop being a dick - 193 posts
#thanks for asking! - 161 posts
Longest Tag: 133 characters
#add in the issues i have were the gov wants me to pay them another 1000 despite the fact my notice only says 1 (which i already paid)
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Of course, I want to write! That's why I'm reading a different fic, looking up how to peel tomatoes for dinner, blasting music and playing with my dog while considering having a nap. I'm totally not procrastinating....
102 notes - Posted January 22, 2022
#4
Wrong Number - Dark!Billy Russo Oneshot
Title: Wrong Number
Rating: M
Fandom: The Punisher
Warnings: Dark!Billy. Stalking. Breaking in. Kidnapping.
Summary: When the burner phone rings, Billy expects another job for Rawlins. What he gets is someone calling the wrong number and Billy wants to know who.
Notes: Please READ THE WARNINGS. Happy Friday the 13th! This came to being today when @vixenofcourse and I were talking while at work about having to phone people and calling the wrong number. This was quickly developed to be done to celebrate today lol. I hope you enjoy it.
See the full post
115 notes - Posted May 13, 2022
#3
The Choice
Title: The Choice
Fandom: MCU
Rating: M
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word count: 1891
Warnings: serial killer!Steve, choking, violence, use of a knife, threats, swearing, implied kidnapping, dark fic! (don't worry, the cat lives)
Summary: Based on the scary story prompts from @darkpromptsyouneveraskedfor. Prompts include: 11) "You're so pretty when you sleep, so peaceful." and 18) 'After a horror marathon, you check under the bed only to find out that you should've looked sooner.'
Horror prompts masterlist
Notes: This is a dark fic. It's violent. There's no redemption in this. The reader is not described in size and/or looks (but does mention wearing a bra). I don't usually write reader fics but this is how this one turned out.
Heed the warnings.
See the full post
176 notes - Posted October 10, 2022
#2
OCFA here 👀 We are so glad your childish smut writing campaign has tailed off. Let this be a lesson now it is over. There is no room for smut on here. There never was. You are an interloper so you still have time to amend your ways. ☝
Good afternoon,
Thank you for contacting asirensrage, newly proclaimed the Totem of Obscenity, Writer of Smutt, Promoter of Unsanitary Behaviour, Enticer of Others and Corrupter of Morals.
We are unable to process your request at this time. Please see the menu for your available options:
Press 1 for the history of fanfic
Press 2 for the article Fandom has a Purity Culture Problem
Press 3 for blocking of this blog and regulating your own experience
Press 4 for coming off of anon and speaking to people like adults
Press 5 if you desire to join others doing their own thing and be offered a place on the totem of obscenity
It is recommended that you proceed through 1-4, if not all options available and leave people alone.
Others are not responsible for your erratic behaviour or your disapproval over their likes, nor should they be subjected to it. If you are unable to control yourself, it is recommended that you take some time offline.
Thank you and have a nice day. *click*
239 notes - Posted March 8, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Me: Your Honour, I love him.
Judge:...
Judge: He killed people.
Me: Yeah. It was hot and he should do it again.
262 notes - Posted April 22, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#false#loll of course my top two fics are my darkest ones#this is hilarious#love these results
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Tony and Steve lil stories
Read it on AO3
by Starkthespark98
I used to be OBSESSED WITH this couple and now it's dwindled to a warm fire however I have little stories to share just to finally do them. I've been putting it off in fear of no one liking it but I realize I don't care anymore so enjoy!
Time travel, multiverse logic and fluff with some angst and kinda smutt.
Also! These were a teenagers thoughts and junk sooo cringe!
Words: 1490, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Avengers (Comics)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multiverse
Read it on AO3
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Tony and Steve lil stories
by Starkthespark98
I used to be OBSESSED WITH this couple and now it's dwindled to a warm fire however I have little stories to share just to finally do them. I've been putting it off in fear of no one liking it but I realize I don't care anymore so enjoy!
Time travel, multiverse logic and fluff with some angst and kinda smutt.
Also! These were a teenagers thoughts and junk sooo cringe!
Words: 1490, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Avengers (Comics)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multiverse
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/41972403
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Me:
#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfic#chris evans masterlist#chris evans fluff#chris evans smutt#chris evans angst#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers masterlist#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers angst#steve rogers smutt#marvel#lol#This made me laugh and get a cramp#tom holland#tom holland x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan fanfic#bucky barnes#chris evans icon#steve rogers icon#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes icons#tony stark#tony stark x reader
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No Strings
Chapter 6
Slowly you followed the Captain back to his room, your body humming with excitement as he opened the door. A soft smile graced his face as you slowly walked in. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, hearing the door close and lock behind him. Steve's hand brushed across your hip and his chest press against your back. Slowly he slid his hands up your sides, his fingers tip edgeing their way under the band of your sports bra.
"You feel tense." He whispered, dipping his head to place a feather light kiss on your shoulder. "We don't have to."
You spun around to face him, your lips finding his. Steve's grip on your ribs tighten as he pulled you flush against him, turning to press you into the door. His lips still moving against yours as he slipped both his hands under yours sports bra and pushed it upward. He broke the kiss and pulled it the rest of the way off before tossing it over his shoulder and his lips met yours again. You grasped at his shirt, wanting to feeling the heat of his bare skin against you.
Steve willingly reached back, grasping the fabric and tugged it over his head before dropping it to the floor. His eyes traveling over your naked torso, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a lopsided smile as his eyes reconnected with yours. He grasped your waist and turned you away from the door so your back was to the bed. His eyes locked onto yours as he pushed gently, his grip still on you so you walked back towards to the mattress.
Steve pushed you lightly once, you felt the back of your knees touch his bed and you sat down. Slowly crawling your way back towards the head board as he began to crawl his way up. His bright blues darkening the closer he got, he softly brought his hand to your hip as his lips found yours again. He nestled his lower body between your legs, his tongue darting into your mouth as you moaned softly to the roll of his hips.
He pressed down on your hip as he continued to roll his hips into you, and you could feel his hardness through your leggings. All you could think about was both of you were wearing far to much clothing. Slowly Steve's lips left yours trailing down the side of your neck, leaving little nips in his wake.
A sharp knock at his door startled the both of you and you groaned softly as Steve looked over his shoulder toward the door. There was a brief pause before who ever it was knocked again.
"Hey Steve, have you seen y/n?" Sam called out from the other side. "Tony is talking about having her help him with some coding or programming or some shit and the last anybody knew she was in training with you."
Steve sighed heavily and hung his head, his disheveled hair falling slightly forward as he did.
"Want me to tell him to fuck off?" You whispered trying to repress the urge to giggle. Slowly he lifted his head, brow raised and that boyish grin on his face. He rolled off to the side, and stared at the door for a bit. "I could."
"No, that won't stop him." Steve whispered back, before clearing his throat and speaking up. "Haven't seen her, she talked about going out for a run."
"If you see her tell her Tony's looking for her." Sam replied, before you heard the man on the other side of the door walk away.
Steve was propped up on his elbow, hand still resting on your hip as he looked you over. He leaned back in toward you, his lips softly touching yours again. He slid his hand up your hip, his finger tips brushing the under side of your breast before slowly cupping you. Steve fingers found your nipple and have a soft flick, causing you to gasp against his lips, his tongue darting into your open mouth. He pinched the erect bud lightly and giving it a soft tug, sending a wave of heat straight to your lower body.
He shifted so his muscular body was laying partially against your side and he grounded his hips into you. You could feel how hard he was against your thigh, a delightful shiver coursed it's way down your spine. Steve slowly trailed his finger tips lower to the waistband of your leggings, his fingers teasing lightly, slipping just barely under.
"Rogers, I didn't peg you as a tease." You breathed as his lips parted from yours, slowly trailing down your neck again. He was taking his time, nipping and kissing making his way lower. You threaded your fingers through his hair, eyes closed as he kissed the swell of your breast.
He slid his fingers farther into your leggings, sliding them over your damp panties. Steve flicked his tongue over your nipple and you moaned softly, arching your back at the contact. He rubbed his fingers over your covered folds, applying just the right amount of pressure.
"Mmm, feel you wet." He murmured against your breast before enveloping your nipple in his warm mouth. You whimpered as he trailed his finger to the side of your panties pulling it to the side and swiping his finger over your bare core. Steve found your clit, and gently started to rub circles.
"Captain Rogers, Tony is looking for Ms. y/l/n, he said the last point she was seen was walking into your room." FRIDAY announced on the overheard com. "He would very much like to speak with her."
"Haven't seen her." Steve replied huskily, as his mouth moved away from your breast slowly trailing kiss down your stomach as he shifted himself lower on the bed.
"Cameras shows she entered your room and hasn't emerged." FRIDAY replied, just as Steve was hooking his free hand into the waist band of your leggings.
"She's not here." He almost growled back, slowly pulling the material down.
"Sir, I must insist, Tony said it was of absolute importance that she come to his lab." The AI stated rather tersely.
You groaned in reply and propped yourself up, Steve looked up at you, aggravation written all over his face.
"Oh, this damn well better be important otherwise I'm going to throttle him." You stated as Steve rolled to the side so you could get up.
You moved off the bed and fixed your leggings before looking around for your sports bra. You snagged it from under the desk that was in the corner and pulled on over your head. Making sure it was in place, you looked to Steve who had also gotten out of the bed and was waiting for you by the door.
He gave you a gentle kiss as he reached for the door handle.
"Don't go anywhere, I plan on is finishing this." You smirked as he opened the door for you.
Permanent tag-
@kitkatkl @octobermermaid @ajosieface @instantnoodlese @crystlblu @coffeebooksandfandom @thisismysecrethappyplace @the-wayward-robot @lokilvrr @shynara51 @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @savedbyimagination @bubblycypres87
No Strings tag-
@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @alexfayer @ambitions-like-ribbons @malfoysqueen14 @book-of-emmy @owhatshername1 @sebbystanlover-vk @blooms-and-roses
Chris/Steve tags-
@patzammit @guera31
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers smutt#steve rogers smut#avengers#captain america x you#captain america x reader#captain america smutt#nostrings
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon, dubcon, heavy misogyny, daddy!kink, smutt in public (kind of), 18+ minors dni.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve takes his omega to her first pool party.
“Hey, baby. Look at this!”
Steve takes off into a run before canon-balling into the pool, making the water splash everywhere in the process. But he surfaces with a grin, flipping his hair off his forehead. His light blonde tufts look dark brown from the water, and the sun radiates against the droplets on his pale face, making him shimmer like a diamond. You can hear a bunch of people – including Natasha – complain because the splash from his jump has completely soaked them, but all Steve does is flip them off before shooting you a smug smile.
“Wow.” You say as you walk up to the edge of the pool. “That was really cool.”
Before Steve can answer, you see someone whizz past you from your peripheral. A moment later, there’s another gigantic splash as Ransom canon-balls in next to Steve, and you yelp as the water hits you. The brunette alpha surfaces with a grin that rivals Steve’s in smugness, with the latter looking on sourly as you clap politely at Ransom’s jump.
“That wasn’t nearly as impressive as mine.” Steve scoffs, eying you warningly. You immediately stop clapping. “And you splashed water all over my girlfriend, you fucking asshole.”
“It’s a pool party, Steve. God forbid she gets a bit of water on her.” Ransom rolls his eyes as he climbs out of the pool and flips Steve off before shooting you a smile which you don’t dare return.
The two of you are at Steve’s friend Ransom’s house. Or rather, in his backyard where a pool party is in full swing. It’s a particularly hot day and everyone’s either sunbathing or swimming or licking snow-cones made from Ransom’s “state of the art snow-cone machine.” (That was the first thing the brunette alpha had shown you and Steve when the two of you had arrived. He’d bought it especially for today).
“I mean, Ransom’s pool is alright.” Steve had told you earlier when the two of you were changing in the pool-house. “But you’d think it’s an Olympic size pool from the way he shows off about it. Baby, wait till you see the pool at my house, it’s twice the size of this one.”
You had nodded, although the idea of someone even owning a swimming pool of their very own – big or small – was so completely unfathomable to you. But everyone who was here today hadn’t even blinked an eye at all the luxuries this mansion had to offer. From the huge hallways and sparkling marble floors to the gigantic backyard which resembled more of a golf course. Not to mention the pool-house alone was twice the size of your house back home!
“This place is like a castle.” You had breathed, sliding your fingers over the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the pool-house, watching the party in full swing outside. Thor was handing out cans of beer, Natasha by his side in a pretty red bikini that made her body look incredible. Ransom and Andy were making snow-cones, and Sam and Bucky looked to be organising a game of pool volleyball. There was a net set up in the water, and it looked like they were arguing about picking teams.
You could also see a bunch of girls settled on the side of the pool, in pretty bikinis and stylish sunglasses. You recognised a few of them from campus, and that made you gulp. What if Steve left you to hang out with his friends? You pray these girls are nice and you’ll fit in.
Steve had snorted, coming up behind you with his hand on your waist, pulling you into his bare chest. “This place is not like a castle, omega. I can show you castles; you just wait till you see my house.” He had kissed down the nape of your neck, the feel of his lips making you sigh until he pulls away and frowns, tugging at your shirt. “Take this off. It’s a pool party, remember?”
He takes it off for you, licking his lips when he sees what’s underneath. He had bought the bikini for you a few days ago. It was white with baby pink strings tying the thong and also going around your neck. Steve had said it was extremely sexy and cute, but you felt vulnerable as ever and paranoid every time he’d finger the strings – like he was doing now. You’d double-tied them tightly, but all he had to do was tug at them and they’d come loose.
Steve had barely given you enough time to put your flip-flops on, as well as your cute flowery cover-up, before he’d dragged you outside to the party.
Which is where you are currently, and you can’t help but smile softly down at Steve, who looks extremely proud of the cannonball he’s just performed. He swims over to where you’re standing, reaching up to grab your ankles.
“Come in. The water’s nice and cool.”
Your heart skips a beat at how laid back he’s being. This is a different side to Steve, who was usually so stoic and strict. Either that, or he was downright devious. Sometimes though, sometimes he lets himself go and relax. Like when he’s playing video-games and gets really into it, or when the two of you are cuddling and he lets Steve Junior join in, or when the two of you study together. Or now.
“I – uh – I don’t really want to swim.” You answer awkwardly, and your alpha rolls his eyes, the grip he has on your ankles not loosening. But the thought of taking your cover-up off and being in such a revealing bikini in front of all these people has you shaking your head pleadingly at him.
“It’s a pool party, omega. That means you have to swim.” Steve tells you as if you’re a baby who doesn’t understand the concept of a pool party.
You exhale softly before sitting down by the edge of the pool and dipping your feet in, sighing at how nice the water feels. And a part of you does want to go in, but you don’t know why you feel so self-conscious here. Well, actually, you do know why. It’s because you feel so out of place, in this huge mansion of a house with all these people from college whom you probably have nothing in common with. They aren’t your friends, you don’t have any friends. And they certainly don’t want to be your friends either, you just know it.
Steve settles between your legs, spreading them and smirking up at you. He presses a light kiss to your inner thigh, and it’s innocuous enough but you still look around in alarm. But no one is watching the two of you and so you try to relax.
“Relax, omega.” Steve commands you, and you get a whiff of his summery scent and sigh as it seems to soothe you from the inside out. You shoot your alpha a small smile, and he only smirks, continuing to kiss your thigh as his hands slips up and down your bare legs. You freeze when you feel his fingers lock around your ankles, the sudden image of him cruelly tugging you into the water crossing your mind.
But Steve only lifts your foot up, licking his lips as he watches your white nail polish gleam in the sunlight. You gulp when he presses a kiss on your toe, before a dark, lustful look clouds his eyes and you pull away.
“Not here, Steve! Please!” You whisper.
“Why not? You’re my omega and I can do whatever I want with you, so–”
“Hey, Steve! Great weather, huh?”
Jake Jensen swims up to Steve, a comically wide grin on his face. He’s got a thick layer of white sunscreen all over his face, with an especially thick blot on the tip of his nose. And yet, he’s still sunburnt and slightly pink to match the shade of his salmon-coloured swimming trunks. His eyes squint as he smiles at Steve – either because of the sun or because he’s not wearing his glasses.
Steve rolls his eyes, getting in front of you to block you from Jake’s view.
“Jensen, who the fuck invited you?”
“Uh, Ransom did? He invited the whole football team! This sure is a swell pool, huh, Steve? I’ve got one too – well, my parents do. But it’s not as big as this one.”
“I’m sure it isn’t.” Steve says drily, “Hey! Eyes on me, Jensen. Don’t even think about looking at her.”
“I wasn’t–”
“I know your angle, you fucking creep. Swimming over here and trying to act all casual so you can get a close up look at my girlfriend in her bikini.”
Jake blinks, his eyes zeroing in on you peaking over Steve’s shoulder. “I didn’t even notice her, actually, but–”
“Are you insulting my girlfriend now, Jensen? Are you fucking insinuating that she’s not noticeable?!”
“What? No–”
“Shut up, you fucking idiot. And get away from us. In fact, get out of the whole pool.” Steve points to the far corner of the backyard, where a jacuzzi bubbles away on its lonesome. “Go sit in there, Jensen. I’m banning your creepy ass from this pool. Now go before I kick you off the football team.”
You watch as Jake hurriedly swims away, a look of dismay on his face. “Steve, you shouldn’t be so mean to him– Hey!”
You yelp as your alpha’s muscular arms encircle around you, pulling you into the pool with a gentle splash. Your arms automatically go around his neck, and your legs – unable to reach the floor of the pool – instinctively wrap around his waist until you’re clinging to him like a koala.
“There. Now none of these creeps can stare at your body.” Steve’s hand slips down to squeeze your ass underwater and you jump in surprise, inadvertently rubbing your front against his crotch. His eyes darken and he clutches you closer, till you can feel his hard dick through his trunks rub against your mound which is barely concealed by your bikini. You fight yourself in order not to moan, shooting Steve a pleading look only to find that his eyes are too busy staring at your cleavage, which is ample and wet and pressed up against his chest.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy, omega.” Steve says, leaning forward to kiss you roughly. He bites at your bottom lip, almost drawing blood as his hands continue to fondle you. You feel your walls clench but you have to remind yourself that you’re in a pool with a bunch of other people. Meanwhile, underwater, Steve’s hand slips under your bikini bottoms, cupping your bare ass cheek and jiggling it lewdly.
“Fuck, why’d you have to wear such a tiny, slutty bikini, huh?” Steve whispers, licking the shell of your ear sensually and sending thrills up and down your spine. “You think you can look this sexy and cute and I won’t fuck you in the middle of this pool right now?”
“B-But, Steve! You chose this bikini!”
“Don’t lie, baby omega.” He pinches your ass again before his fingers tug threateningly at the flimsy string holding your bikini bottoms to your body. “Now everyone’s staring at your hot, tight little body because they all want to fuck you. But they can’t, because that’s my job.”
“Please don’t take my bikini off!” You plead softly, as he continues to play with the strings of your bikini-bottoms. You try to swim away from him, but he holds on tightly to you, shooting you a warning look before his eyes grow distracted by your breasts again, and his hands cup them both.
“Who told you to tease me like this, huh?” He kisses up your neck, squeezing and fondling your breasts like an animal pawing at his prey, “Who told you to wear such a tight, sexy bikini and push your tits up so they look all sexy? God, you’re killing me, baby. And I know you’re doing it on purpose, just like you always do.”
You know Steve well enough at this point to realise that when he’s riled up and horny, he tends to accuse you of baseless things like leading him on purposely. But all you’re trying to do at this very moment is make sure he doesn’t slip his dick inside you at this pool party in front of everyone. Because Steve could really be a menace when he wanted to, and his libido knew no bounds. He would definitely fuck you in front of an audience, no questions asked. In fact, he’d happily do it.
“Who’s that?” You blurt out in a desperate bid to distract him. You look toward the gates where Ransom is greeting a pretty brunette girl who you’ve never seen before. Steve follows your gaze and snorts.
“That’s Marta, Ransom’s new girlfriend.”
“Oh. She’s very pretty.” You comment, taking note of how Ransom looks genuinely happy to see her. He picks her up and swings her around, and she laughs and bats him with her purse before they kiss.
“She’s a gold-digging slut.” Steve says darkly.
“What?”
“You heard me. She has a reputation for being the biggest gold-digger in New York and everyone knows it.” Steve holds you close, as if physically shielding you from getting influenced by Marta, who isn’t even looking at either of you. “Instead of getting a degree like the rest of us, she’s been steadily seducing half the male population in the city, and getting them to buy her whatever she wants.”
“But I thought you preferred it when omegas didn’t get degrees?”
You don’t know where the quip comes from, but you regret it as soon as the words leave your mouth. Steve shoots you a warning look and you quickly bow your head submissively, “I’m sorry.”
“You better be. One more slip-up like that and I’ll spank you in front of everyone,” Steve threatens before continuing, “Omegas have no business getting degrees, but they also have no business acting like gold-digging sluts. Anyways, all of us tried to warn Ransom but he’s a fucking idiot, clearly.”
You look towards the couple once again; Ransom is making Marta a personalised snow-cone, drawing a sloppily-drawn heart out of strawberry syrup on top of the shaved ice. Marta claps excitedly, giving Ransom a kiss on the cheek. They look pretty happy and genuine to you, but Steve probably knows better?
You mull over all this new information, “B-But Steve, you buy me tons of expensive stuff all the time. Do people think I’m a gold-digger?”
Steve presses a bunch of kisses on your neck, holding you tightly against him as if he’s afraid you’ll float away. “No, baby. No one would dare make that assumption about you, because I would kill them. And anyways, you’re too cute and innocent and humble to be a gold-digger. Not like Marta, who is a whore.”
You wrinkle your nose, “Steve, please don’t say that…”
“She is, though. She made Ransom buy her a Birkin bag when he’d only known her two weeks.”
You’re wondering why Steve seems so incensed over a simple bag when suddenly–
“You sure do love to gossip, don’t you, Steve?”
Natasha walks over to the corner of the swimming pool where you and Steve are. She’s wrapped a silky black sarong around her hips, and it looks good with her deep red bikini.
“And you sure do love to eavesdrop, don’t you?” Steve fires back, his grip on you tightening possessively.
Natasha rolls her eyes and looks from Steve to you, “Don’t listen to Steve. Marta’s a great girl, we used to go to the same yoga class a few years ago.”
“Of course, you think she’s great.” Steve remarks, sneering at Nat as if she’s a disease, but the redhead remains unperturbed, shooting him a sweet smile before looking back to you.
“Let’s hang out soon. I can fill you in on all the real gossip, and –”
“She doesn’t want to hang out with you.” Steve answers on your behalf. You wince, because it’s not true at all! You’d love to hang out with Natasha, and she’s always inviting you out, either to shop or grab brunch. But Steve never gives you permission to go, because he claims Natasha is a bad influence. You wish you were brave enough to stand up to Steve but you’re not, so instead you just shoot Natasha an apologetic look, and the redhead smiles understandingly back at you.
“Steve! Come on, we’re playing volleyball and you’re on my team!” Sam calls out from the other side of the pool.
Steve makes a face before shouting back, “I’m busy with my girlfriend!”
“She can play too.” Bucky walks up with the volleyball under his arm, “She can be on my team, we could use an extra player since we got stuck with Jensen.” He gives you a meaningful stare, his cold blue eyes raking you up and down, making you shrink back into Steve. But the brunette alpha smoothly looks away as soon as Steve glances at him.
“Haha, very funny. Omegas don’t play sports.” Steve gives you a kiss on the cheek and a condescending pat on your bum which you’re happy is underwater so no one sees. His lips brush against your ear, “I’m gonna go play for a while, okay, baby?”
You nod, “That’s alright, Steve. I’ll just stay here.”
Steve looks at you, then at Natasha, then back at you before narrowing his eyes, “Don’t talk to her. Just watch me play, okay?”
“Okay.” You cross your fingers behind your back, hoping he won’t see.
He kisses you some more, claiming it’s a good luck kiss but it quickly turns into a good luck make-out before Bucky drags him away.
You climb out of the pool, regretting it instantly because you feel all wet and exposed. But Natasha hands you a big, fluffy towel, and you gratefully wrap it around yourself before she tugs you over to a couple of deck chairs.
“Steve is so bossy,” Natasha giggles, and you follow her gaze to the other side of the pool. There’s a net set up and Steve is already busy explaining strategies to his team members, before telling them exactly where to stand and what to do.
“Yeah.” You agree softly.
“I bet the only one he really listens to is you, am I right?”
Your eyes widen, “Oh no, Steve doesn’t really… I, uh, I could never tell him what to do.”
Natasha stretches and lays down on her deck chair, “I mean, I tell Thor to load the dishwasher or empty the drier, that kind of stuff.”
You look down to your lap, “Oh, well, Steve says that household chores are an omega’s job.” You pause, your eyes focused on Steve as he slams the volleyball straight at Jensen’s face. Jensen yelps, his glasses flying into the water as Steve laughs and high-fives Sam. You suddenly grow paranoid, wondering if your words will somehow get back to him. “I don’t mind doing the household chores at all, though! Actually, I find it very relaxing.” (This isn’t even a lie).
Natasha nods thoughtfully, “Yeah, I don’t mind it either. But you could definitely get Steve to help you out.”
You smile, not saying anything. You certainly doubted you could make Steve do anything.
The redhead sits up straight, “I’m serious, though! Next time you’re unloading the dishwasher, just be like ‘Oh no, these dishes…they’re so heavy!’ Trust me, watch how he’ll make you sit down and do it all himself. Alphas eat the whole ‘damsel in distress’ thing right up.”
You mull over it; maybe that would work… Steve never ever let you do any heavy-lifting around the house. You weren’t even allowed to take the trash out, and sometimes he’d even take the laundry basket out of your hands if it looked too heavy. “Baby omegas like you shouldn’t be lifting heavy things,” he’d always say.
Relaxing and sitting back, all warm in your fluffy towel, you listen as Natasha gives you more relationship advice. She tells you all the “little things” you can do to control your alpha, like dress up in sexy lingerie and withhold sex until he agrees to your demands. Or keep him on his toes by not answering his texts immediately, and ignoring him so that it drove him crazy. You knew most of these ideas would never work with Steve, but it was nice to listen to her speak anyways, plus it also gave you an interesting insight on her relationship with Thor.
Steve’s team wins the volleyball match, and he comes back to you with a smug smile on his face. Swooping you up in his arms and giving you the biggest kiss ever, till your cheeks are hot and your heart is racing.
“Did you see me?” He asks, kissing you all over your face as if Natasha isn’t a foot away from you two, “Did you see how I scored that last point?”
“Yes,” you lie, because you had dozed off for the past few minutes under the deliciously warm sun and the fluffiness of your towel, “You were really good!”
“Damn right. And did you see how bad Jensen was?”
Steve gives you a detailed play-by-play of the whole game, whilst also simultaneously carrying you off to the hot-tub in the corner of the yard. Natasha waves you goodbye before skipping over to Thor, and you watch her bat him on the shoulder before he throws her into the pool, jumping in after her.
“…and then Bucky rage quit because his team was so shit, and I think he actually left and drove home.” Steve shakes his head, “Classic Bucky. He can’t ever take a loss.”
He gently places you into the hot tub, and you sigh as you sink into the hot, steamy, bubbling water. It’s deep, almost up to your neck when you sit down. But Steve has other plans, hastily pulling you into his lap once he’s settled down as well. In fact, he places you right on top of his hard bulge, which is definitely noticeable underneath his trunks.
“So, is my baby omega gonna give me a reward for winning?” He pinches your ass, a mischievous glint in his eye. His hands settle on your hips, grinding you down against his bulge and smirking when you yelp and grab onto his chest and shoulders.
“Not here!” You gasp, earning another pinch to your ass.
“Really? Is that why you keep grinding your cute little butt on my dick?”
“I’m not!”
“Don’t lie to me, omega.” Steve draws you closer with his big hand on the back of your neck, kissing you roughly, his hands fondling every part of your body. He keeps one hand squarely on your ass, his fingers digging between your ass cheeks and prodding at your puckered hole through the thin material of your bikini. You gasp straight into his mouth, and he just smirks against your lips, not allowing you to break the kiss as his other hand slips up to squeeze your breast. His thumb brushes against your hard nipple, and he tries to pull your bikini top off before you manage to fend him away.
“Not here, Steve, please!” You beg, not knowing how far he’d go. His eyes are almost black with lust, as if he’s horny off of winning the volleyball game and impressing you. And a part of you knew this would happen, that this was inevitable the moment he made you put on this extra revealing bikini in the first place. But you’d hoped he’d have at least dragged you off somewhere private, instead of the hot-tub which was out in the open with everyone still milling around.
“Address me properly, baby omega.” Steve whispers in your ear, his tone dripping with lust. “And you shouldn’t have put on this slutty bikini if you didn’t want me to fuck you in front of everyone. All these guys have been staring at you all day. Now I have to show them all how I own you.”
His fingers play with the string that’s holding your bikini top together, his other hand now tracing shapes on the exposed skin of your butt cheek. He gives it a jiggle, smirking when you clutch him harder, your hands wrapping around his neck in an effort to calm yourself down.
“I think you should take your bikini off. Daddy wants to see your tits.”
You shake your head pleadingly, “No, Steve – I mean daddy – please, I can’t do that!”
He doesn’t even blink, his eyes focused on your cleavage which is practically spilling out of the bikini. He licks his lips, a carnality suddenly taking over his being and he grabs the flimsy cups of your bikini and pulls them downwards, exposing your breasts. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth latches on to one of your nipples, his other hand covering your other breast by squeezing it.
You bite your lip to contain your moan, but Steve moans freely around your nipple as he suckles it. His tongue licks sensually around your hardened peak, making you jolt in his lap. He holds you down firmly, digging his boner up between your ass. He sucks your nipple as if he’s starving, biting at it as if he wants to make you scream, but you stop yourself just in time.
“You’re so fucking sexy, baby.” Steve tells you, “I almost lost concentration a few times during that volleyball game. All I could think about was you looking all cute and sexy, wearing this slutty bikini as if you were begging me to fuck you.”
“Daddy – ah! – can we do this at home please?” You ask, because now you can feel yourself getting turned on. Despite your embarrassment and discomfort, you can feel your pussy clench at his degrading dirty talk.
“No. And stop telling me to stop or else I’ll fuck you on that deck chair, right in the middle of everyone.” He stops suckling on your nipple for a second, pinching it instead as he looks at you thoughtfully, “Actually, no. Keep telling me to stop because I like it when you do that. Reminds me how weak and babyish you are.” He licks a stripe up the side of your face before kissing your cheek sloppily, “Beg me again, say: ‘daddy, please stop.’”
“Daddy, please stop!” You moan pitifully, your brain wanting him to stop but your body not quite agreeing as you feel your hips involuntarily jut against him. And you’re just about to lose control, just about to give in to him because he feels so good and he smells so enticing and he’s your daddy so he’s in charge and the omega inside you is purring and wanting to do exactly what he orders you to, and then–
“Mind if we join you guys?”
Ransom plops into the hot tub, with Marta hot on his heels. Your eyes widen, and Steve huffs in annoyance before pushing your bikini back up to cover your breasts. The tub is bigger than most, and big enough that Ransom and Marta are able to sit a few feet away from you and Steve. They’re too busy talking to notice anything, but Steve double-knots your bikini strings just in case, glaring daggers at the couple sitting across from you.
You try to slip off Steve’s lap after that, but he holds you in place and shoots you a warning look. So you sit there, your back against Steve’s chest and his hard dick poking angrily against your butt.
“I was just telling Marta how similar you and I are, Steve.” Ransom pipes up.
“Oh yeah? How so?” Steve asks sardonically. You can tell he’s pissed off at being interrupted, which is never a good sign. You remember once he was about to fuck you in the locker room before the coach had called him. Steve had been seething, and with all that pent-up sexual frustration, you knew you were in for it once he was done. Right now was no different.
Ransom sits back, his arm around Marta who sips coolly on a frozen strawberry daquiri. You hadn’t really paid attention to it, but there was also an open bar in the corner of the backyard, with the alphas taking turns making drinks. Thankfully, Steve hadn’t drank tonight – otherwise he’d have been ten times hornier than he was now.
“We’re both wifed up and in serious relationships.” Ransom draws Marta close, and she nuzzles her nose against his neck. “And you know what? Now I get what all the hype is about. Marta and I have been talking about marking each other up too, and –”
Ransom drones on and on, and you nod politely. Steve, on the other hand, stiffens underneath you. You can tell he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. What you didn’t count on is his dick driving up into you at that exact moment. You almost gasp out loud before covering it up by pretending to clear your throat. His hands rub up and down your thighs, and you’re so happy this is all happening under the water otherwise you’d never be able to live it down.
Marta excuses herself to get another drink, Ransom’s eyes following her as she leaves, a lovesick look on his face.
“Bro, you’re pathetic.” Steve sneers, and all the while his hands are slipping up till he cups your core through your bikini bottoms, making your breath hitch. “You’ve only been seeing her for two weeks.”
“So?”
“So, you need to chill the fuck out.”
Steve pushes your bikini bottoms to the side, exposing your bare core to the hot water. Fuck. His thick fingers probe and explore your slick folds, and you cannot believe what he’s doing because Ransom is only a few feet away from you guys. And Steve’s casually giving out advice as if he isn’t about to finger you under the water this very second!
Ransom sighs, “I know, but she isn’t just some random hookup, okay? I actually have feelings for her.”
You’re barely able to focus on the two alphas’ conversation, your face and neck heating up as you squirm on Steve’s lap. A part of you feels so degraded, sitting on your alpha’s lap as if you’re nothing more than a decorative toy for him to play with while he talks to his friend. It’s what he’s doing right now, his pointer finger circling your clit casually while he holds you close in his lap.
“If you want to be the dumbass who gets played by an omega, then suit yourself, bro.” Steve shrugs, focusing his attention back on you. Ransom looks torn, and you secretly hope he doesn’t take Steve’s advice too seriously. You don’t know much about gold-diggers or relationships in general, but Ransom and Marta look genuine from what you’ve seen. Not that you have time to dwell over their situation, because Steve chooses that exact moment to slip two fingers inside you.
“Oh, oh fu-” You cry out.
Ransom frowns, “You okay?”
“Don’t talk to my girl!” Steve warns.
“Ex-Excuse me.” You squeak, managing to get up off of Steve’s lap while he’s momentarily distracted. You step out of the hot tub before he can stop you, quickly wrapping yourself in your fluffy towel. “Bathroom.” You explain, before speed-walking over to the pool-house, inwardly praying you don’t slip and embarrass yourself in your hasty exit.
Heart drumming, you safely make it to the pool house and make a beeline for the bathroom. You’ve only just managed to catch your breath when the door opens and closes behind you. You barely have time to register what’s happening before Steve pushes you forward, bending you over the marble sink and giving you four hard slaps to the ass in quick succession.
“Bad girl.” Steve tuts, “What got into you, huh? Running away from daddy like that?”
“I’m sorry, I just… Steve it would’ve been so inappropriate to do that in front of everyone!”
“What’s inappropriate is slutty baby omegas like you wearing sexy bikinis to distract me. You forced my hand, baby.” He swiftly rips your bikini bottoms apart, squeezing your ass cheeks with both his hands, till you know his handprints will be imprinted on your skin. “Well, we’re all alone now, omega. There’s nowhere for you to run.”
He presses his hard dick against your wet folds, and you sigh involuntarily, rutting back against him. In the privacy of this bathroom, you can finally relax.
“I’m gonna fuck you on every inch of every surface inside this bathroom,” Steve promises darkly in your ear, sucking and biting at your earlobe before pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, “and then I’m gonna drag you outside and fuck you against the glass doors of this pool house. You got that, omega?”
“Y-Yes, daddy.”
THE END. I know i know i know that ended super abruptly, but trust me when i tell you i could’ve gone on and on and ON and this was just meant to be a small drabble!!! PLEASE tell me what you think and reblog pls!!! ily ily ily and this was really random and idek if it’s any good but please just let me know what you think! ALSO YES, steve is such a menace in this and idk if this is canon compliant but it’s a poyt drabble so here we goooo!!! LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OK BYE
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Fluff and nsfw
While steve was out with bucky and sam one of them introduced a girl to him . Shes abit familar as if she was from his dreams ....Spoiler alert shes a succubus and she also has seen what lies inside him beneath that Beefcake theres that sweet little guy that she met . They are alone in an area and he admits he likes her and she blushed rare to see on a succubus like her (her type is the new kid in a way just spying in dreams) she did admit to being In his dreams both having dejavu now but they like eachother. Few dates later and mr gentleman here asked the demoness to be his s/o she giddly agrees . The smutt hahah the one time he sees her vaunerable is when she needs to feed as he may know bit of that after an encounter with dracula (reffrence: avengers assemble cartoon 2012) both doing fondue while y/n demon form with tail w horns hes got her in a doggy possition while fucking her he holds her sensitive tail both are rough and loving
KICKING OFF FANTASY FRIDAY
First THE FLUFF!
No warnings except zero editing and I'm saving some of the succubus/demoness specifics for the other two portions of this 'mini-mini-series.'
Steve knows this is different when Sam jumps out of the crowded bar area to announce, "Steve, I'd like you to meet somebody."
He didn't say a simple "this is whoever" or "so-and-so would like to meet you," no. Sam Wilson said that he wanted Steve to meet the person squeezing through the throng behind him, and Steve is intrigued until...
He knows your face. He recognizes you, but from where? It's...right there on the tip of his tongue. No name comes to mind. He can't picture the background, the circumstance of when you met before, but...he knows that he knows your face.
"So when this lovely lady told me all about how her friends dragged her here and parked her alone at the bar once they all found--" Sam coughs "--someone for the night, I thought 'gee, she's got a lot in common with Steve.'"
Steve smiles kindly, noticing your sinking but wry smile, and he leans forward. "He's got his eye on one of your friends, doesn't he?"
"Rogers, don't ruin this for me," Sam grumbles, getting close to Steve's ear so you can't hear. "She's cute, man. Just try."
Sam's right; you are cute, standing with your hands wrapped together, feet in heels with the toes almost touching, nervous. Steve hates to make people nervous without intention.
Your giggle at Steve's insight is finally dying out, and he knows that sound, too. Still, nothing specific comes to mind, and it's going to haunt him that he's forgotten a face, especially your face.
Sam slips away, and conversation is surprisingly easy when you start out both joking at Sam's expense. He means well. He's a good wingman overall. He has enough confidence to fill the room (while suffocating everyone in it). He was right to think you two would get along.
Steve remains completely content to talk all night, even after a few drinks, even after Sam finds his way 'home' (but to whose home, Steve's not sure), and even after you step up to the curb to hail a cab. He doesn't want to be creepy or forward and insist on getting you to your door, but he wants to. He offers you his number because he doesn't want to ask for yours. That might be too presumptive. He also doesn't want to wait one extra second should you want to talk more.
You don't pull out a phone. You...don't have a purse.
Steve never saw you pull out cash or a credit card, and in concern, his eyes scan your skirt in search of pockets, making sure you have money to get home. The thick waistband sits high and then juts out in layers upon layers of tulle fluff. It, like you, is very cute and colorful. The fabric swishes in the breeze...even one so faint that Steve doesn't feel a thing.
Shit, he's staring, and directly at your ass of all things. His face flushes in embarrassment, and he rubs at his neck, muttering something about wrangling Bucky, who's still inside, to head out themselves.
If he weren't so ashamed of being caught ogling, he would have seen you safely into a cab, but instead, he simply turns around at the bar door.
You're already gone.
He's even more embarrassed when he finally realizes where he knows you from. It's a dream, a dream he had a while ago after a very stressful mission, and he has it again the night he truly meets you.
It's...it's really very stupid, he has to admit. You're just...he simply walks along a beach with you, hands wound together as you idly meander the ocean's edge. Conversation is just as easy in his dream, and that's stupid, right? He's being stupid--and creepy, which is exactly what he was trying not to be.
Nonetheless, Steve has never awaited a call so eagerly, but one never comes. Instead, Sam is meeting your friend again--your roommate, it turns out--so Steve invites himself to join...if you'll be there.
Sam is flabbergasted. Bucky nearly falls out of his chair.
"I'm sorry, punk, what?!"
Steve shrugs and desperately fights to keep the heat out of his face. "It's not that big of a deal, Buck. I just...wanted to see her again and--"
"Stevie's got a crush," Sam sing-songs, throwing his arms up and skipping all the way down the hall to his room before shouting back, "be ready at six, bud. Don't make me late."
Bucky just blinks, reading Steve's expression like a book, like he always could. After a long moment of silence, his friend nods.
"Good for you," he mumbles, an approving, slightly smug grin blooming across his stubbled cheeks, and then good ol' Bucky returns to his food.
You're old school, too, as it turns out. No phone of your own. Steve remembers what that was like growing up, and it brings back a nostalgia he never thought he'd feel again.
No phone means you make your next plans at the time you see each other, and you keep those plans. No phone means that if he wants you to know something before that next meeting, he writes it down--and if it's long enough until he sees you, he mails it. He never thought those simple things would feel completely archaic and inadequate, but they do.
For work, the team has a steady supply of burner phones, cheap little things that don't do much but do far more than nothing, so Steve gives you one with his real and regular number programmed in already. Then he can text you. Then he can call you. Then you can call him, and you do.
You mostly listen, and for some reason, Steve's never been so chatty in his life. It's nice to feel heard, though, and it's even nicer to feel like he doesn't have to talk solely about avenging. Silly, average dude stuff is his favorite. Modern contradictions are a close second.
On the subject of contradictions, however, Steve feels like one. He still has dreams about you, and they're so vivid that sometimes he forgets what he's told you in real life versus in dreams. Thank goodness you haven't noticed him slip up yet, but it's only a matter of time.
"I have something I want to tell you, and I don't want you to freak out," he starts over a casual dinner one night about two months after you met.
"Oh," you chirp, "I have something I need to tell you, too."
"Um, sure, but let me--" Steve wipes his palms down his pant legs "--get this out first, ok?"
You smile and give that cute nod of encouragement he's grown so fond of...addicted to, really.
"I...I dream about you. I mean," Steve stammers, "you're in my dreams. A lot. And it feels like I'm obsessed, but I swear I'm not trying to be. We don't--we don't do anything in the--oh no, that sounds wrong, but--it's 'cause I like you so much."
He expects shock, maybe a few thoughtful sips on your water, and another fair few questions about exactly what you actually were doing in his dreams, but instead you reach a hand out for his.
"Steve, that's..."
Your nose twitches while you gather your words. He can practically see your mind shuffle them into proper order; he just really hopes the words aren't 'good' and 'bye' and 'weirdo.'
"That's right. That is me. I'm in your dreams."
He blinks.
"I am in your dreams because...I'm not human, Steve. That's one of the things I do." You scratch at the wide headband across your hair, a signature piece of your look, along with those poofy skirts. "And I'm sorry if you felt it was invasive before...the time before we met, but I sorta wanted to see what the mind of a hero was like..."
You've released his hand by the last part, picking nervously at your fingernails.
Slowly, the words order themselves properly inside Steve's brain.
"You did that?"
You nod.
"On purpose?"
You nod again.
Steve leans forward to whisper, "what did you find?"
Now, you beam back at him, whole face aglow with the same affection Steve thought he could only dream of--until just this second--and you sit up straighter.
"A good man. A man--" you clear your throat "--worth getting to know in person."
He should ask who or what you really are. He should hesitate. He should think it all through a lot more logically and thoroughly than he has been.
Instead, he smiles back, blue eyes blazing in excitement.
"So if you're not human...is it still alright if I call you my girl?"
This pairing has a Part 2 and a Part 3!
Thank you for reading and participating in this Fantasy Friday. Replies, reblogs, and likes always appreciated. Find more on my masterlist.
#Fantasy Friday asks#steve rogers#fanfic#steve rogers fic#steve x reader#steve rogers fanfiction#steve x you#fluff and feels#fluff and romance#succubus!reader#captain america#captain america fanfiction#captain america x reader#captain america x you#drabble#ro answers
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My Scarlet Lover Chapter 2
Pair: Wanda Maximoff x Reader(fem).
Type: Fluff/Angst/Smut
Word count: 3.7K
Warning: This will contain adult language, mature themes, sexual language and so 16+
You sigh, looking at the floor. “I’ll be back soon, you dork. Try not to miss me too much.” Wanda grinned as she pulled you into a hug. You held on a little too tight for it to just be a friendly hug.
“Stay safe, dickhead. Because if you die I’ll kill you myself.” You teased, she rolled her eyes at you before you handed her, her duffle bag.
“I’ll be back in a week.” She nodded.
You smiled at her as she bid goodbye to the rest of the team.
Your mind trailed back to the restaurant and what happened there. The way she pulled you into her, the way her lips felt pressed against my own, the way she tasted, the breathless look she held after you guys pulled apart. Your eyes began to flicker blue and Wanda raised a brow at you.
Wanda wished she could read your mind, to uncover all of your thoughts. She often had flare-ups when she was angry, or scared, or aroused. She wondered why you were angry or possibly scared. She never thought for one moment that you could be aroused because of the hug you guys just shared or any moment you have shared together. She had noticed your tight hold, but Wanda thought it was because you were going to miss her.
You clear your throat watching her as she left along with the rest of the team. Once she had driven away, you pushed yourself off of the doorframe. You turned around suddenly, feeling a lot less comfortable. Truth be told, you already missed her. “So pizza?” Tony called out, and as if on cue, your stomach rumbled.
“Yes, sir.” You grinned whilst saluting. Steve saluted back, and you both laughed at this.
You sat down next to Natasha, sighing deeply. "Hey." She whispered. You smiled slightly.
"Hey." You whispered back. She raided a brow at you, her green eyes narrowing slightly. She shuffles closer to you and leans in to whisper something else.
"Are you okay?"
You were a bit taken back by her question, more so with the concern in her eyes. Flashing her a warm smile, you nodded.
"Always, Romanoff. Always."
She smiled at you. "I know Wanda being gone is always hard for you."
Your stomach dropped as the embarrassment fizzled in. "What no its not hard, I just miss my friend."
"Yeah, my friend." You say to yourself. She gave you a flat look, but you just rolled your eyes playfully at her.
You and Nat were sparing in the training room. She was being relentless today. Every spare second you had, she was obliterating with another swing. You ducked out of the way but she had brought up her knee attempting to get a hit on you, but you quickly maneuvered yourself away from her. She looked slightly impressed, but that pause didn't last long as she quickly rushed towards you. "Jesus, Nat, are you trying to kill me?" You ask as she flips you onto your back. She scoffs at you.
"When you train with Wanda, she goes easy on you. I'm just clearing up your technique."
"She does not go easy on me." You mutter displeasingly.
"She so does." Nat said as she swung for you. She landed a hard hit on your jaw, knocking you to the ground. You felt your eyes flicker as you fought down the urge to use your powers to throw her through a wall.
"Nat..." You said worriedly, as it was getting harder and harder to control. She understood the warning and backed away. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to control the surge of power bubbling inside you and so you thought about all the things that keep you grounded.
You think about drinks with the team after a successful mission; you think about Wanda, and the connection you have, you think about her smile, her sweet laugh, and above all, you focus on how you felt when she had kissed you. The warmth that flooded through you, how your hair stood on edge as you pulled her closer, the way she smiled into the kiss when you did so. And with all this, your powers flickered off. You turned to Nat, breathing heavily you nodded. She furrowed her brows at you.
"Um, Y/n?"
"Yeah?" You sighed.
"Your eyes, they're still glowing."
You nod, blinking a few times. "They're not going to dim anytime soon, don't worry. I'm in control." You said reassuringly, as you held up your fists. This whole encounter made you even more determined to beat her. She nodded. And you were the one to strike first. You grabbed her and slammed your knee into her stomach, making her groan. She hooked her arm around your neck, squeezing it. Hooking your legs around hers, you pulled her down, causing you both to roll you slammed her down your arm, pulling hers painfully out of place. She squirmed in your hold, but she eventually tapped out in fear of you dislocating her arm. You let her go, a triumphant smirk gracing your lips. Your eyes were still glowing sapphire and would most likely be like this for the rest of the day.
“Well shit. You got me.”
“I guess Wanda’s training sessions are a free for all like you assumed after all, huh?” You teased as you helped her up. She ignored you and gestured to your eyes.
“I’ve done some reading about you. Your powers are very much linked to your emotions. Which leads me to believe something is on your mind. What exactly did you think about to gain control?” She asked. You swallow.
“Bits and pieces. Drinks with the team after a successful mission, happy moments mostly, and some other things…” you said trailing off. Nat smirked.
“Like?” She pressed. “Because whatever it was left a big impression on you.” She laughed. You shake your head.
“There are some things that I’m going to keep to myself Romanoff.” You laugh, she shrugs.
“Well, we all have things we keep to ourselves.” you nod, smiling. You think back to the kiss and Nat laughs. “You’re thinking about the thing again, aren’t you?”
You gape at her. “How did…” you trailed off as you looked in the mirror. Your eyes were electric. You blinked, trying to dim the shine. “God damn it.” You mutter, rubbing your eyes.
You guys walk into the main room, and as soon as you enter, Steve stands up abruptly. "Y/n, are you okay?"
"What's wrong with you?" Tony quickly followed Steve's line of questioning with a gesture towards your eyes.
Before you could answer, Vision spoke. "Miss Blake has a slightly elevated heart rate. She has a minor contusion to her jaw and judging from her brain scans Y/n Isn't hurt she's just experiencing a large sense of arousal." He informed.
"Vision!" You squealed your eyes so wide you were expecting them to fall out of your head. Tony's eyebrows raised, a smirk plastered on his stupidly annoying face. You shake your head in mortal shame.
"I'm sorry, was that inappropriate?" Vision asked, tilting his head to the side.
The group stared at you. Your cheeks were on fire and your embarrassment was very visible. "Now you have to tell me what or rather who you were thinking about." Nat smirked, taunting you.
Steve wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Need some help sorting that out?" He joked, causing you to scoff.
"Oh please," you wiggle your fingers "I have all the help I need right here. Which by the way is none of your business." You sassed, causing them to laugh.
“So are you going to tell us who it is or am I going to have to list out names and ask Vision to tell me when your heart beats a little to quickly?” Tony asked and you turned to Vision a dark look in your eyes.
“Listen here microwave. You say another word and I will fry your brain.” You grumbled. His eyes widened, and he sat back down. You then face the rest of the group.
“You breath a word of this to anyone and I will torture you. Got that?” You threatened. They all laughed at you, you rolled your eyes before turning on your heels. You began walking back to your room.
“If I hear muffled noises, just assume I know what you 're up to!” Tony called after you. You flipped him off.
“Fuck you, Tony.” You shot back.
“Language!” Steve chastised.
“English!” You sassed before slamming your bedroom door behind you.
“Hey how’s it going?” You smiled into the camera as Wanda’s face appeared on the screen. You had decided to FaceTime her since everyone else was pissing you off. She took one look at you and frowned. Her eyes swirling with concern.
“Your eyes! What’s wrong? And is that a bruise?!”
You brought your hand up to your jaw and winced. You hadn’t even noticed until Wanda pointed it out. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine… I’m just having some… control issues. You know how it gets.”
“That still doesn’t explain the bruise. Who hit you?” She asked. You smiled at her concern.
“I was sparring with Nat, I didn’t have enough time to dodge her hit.” You explained and watched as the recognition washed over her.
“Ah right.”
“Which, by the way, leads me to my next question. Do you go easy on me?” You asked. She frowned, her eyes holding her answer. You gasp. “Oh, my god! Maximoff no way!”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m dangerous.” She whispered. You scoff.
“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. You are not dangerous. You haven’t lost control in years. When you get back here you best believe we’re going to spar and you will not hold back you got that?” You ranted, and she smirked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Your heart stuttered. Why did you find that so attractive?
“What was that?” You asked, feigning confusion. In reality, you just wanted to hear her say it again.
“I said… yes ma’am.” She said it slower, and you had to stop yourself from biting your lip. Flashes of her whispering that into your ear as you have a hand on her throat and telling her all the things you’re going to do to her invaded your mind.
You cussed at yourself for being so crude.
“So how’s the mission going?” You smile, she shrugged.
“I’m going to follow up a lead in a little. Hopefully, it turns something up.”
You smile. “Knowing you, it probably will.”
She chuckled at you before running a hand through her hair.
For the next few hours you guys talked about your day and hers as if she had left a week ago and not a couple hours. Soon enough you felt yourself dropping off. As your eyes fluttered closed, you could’ve sworn you heard Wanda say.
“Goodnight beautiful.” But your mind was too tired to decipher whether it was your imagination or reality. The last thing you saw before you fell asleep was Wanda smiling brightly at you. Her face illuminated by the dim lamp. She looked so beautiful in low lighting, her eyes were soft and regarded you with a look you couldn’t quite figure out. Her smile seemed brighter tonight, and she generally seemed to be in a good mood, which was odd because you feel crappy when she leaves. But saying that you do feel better after her call.
You often wondered what it would feel like to fall asleep next to her. Your head on her chest, listening to the soft sound of her beating heart.
With that in mind, your body slipped into a deep sleep.
"Y/n?" she whispered, her hands trailing across the skin on your collarbone. Your back arched as she gently pulled away. She placed a kiss on your cheek, trailing soft kisses from your cheek to your neck. A soft moan left your lips as she did so.
"Wanda." You gasped out as she ground her hips against yours. You swallowed a moan as she kissed you. Warmth flooded through you as her hands trailed down your sides, curving into your hips.
"Do you like that?" She asked as she nipped your earlobe. You nodded.
"Y-yes." You gasped as she ground against you again.
"Y/n?" she whispered.
"Y/n!"
Your eyes peeled open as someone shook you awake. You sat up, slightly breathless. Your eyes focused in on Nat, you furrowed your brows.
“What, what is it?” You asked groggily. Her face was pulled down, and she avoided eye contact. You sit up pushing the covers aside. “Natasha. Tell me.” You instructed. She sighed, standing up.
“It’s Wanda.”
Fear slid into your gut like a blade igniting the deepest fears inside of you. You swallowed, tucking your knees into your chest. “What? Is she okay?” You rushed out.
“She’s MIA.” You stand up shaking your head. “Fury’s in the main hub-”
You speed out if the room and storm your way into the room and seek out your target. “Where is she?!” You snapped. Fury looked at you and sighed.
“Agent Maximoff is… well she’s off the grid.”
You frown. “What the hell do you mean?”
“We lost her.”
“Well, get her back damnit.” You snap. You were growing angrier by the second. Carol placed her hand on your shoulder.
“Calm down.”
You turn around and shove her off you. “Don’t tell me to calm down. My best friend is missing.” You snap. She gave you a sympathetic look.
“I know its hard but you have to stay calm. For her.” Carol whispered. You shook your head, turning back to Fury.
“You’re gonna drop me where her last signal was. Now.” You stated. He shook his head.
“It’s too dangerous.” He muttered.
You could feel your eyes start to shine as you glared at him. “Either you fly me there Nick or I’m going to fly myself either way I’m going after her.” You growled.
“No, you’re not.” He snapped. Your fists began to glow.
“Fine, I’m going on my own.”
“No, you’re not, I’m coming with you.”
“Me too.” Nat and Steve interjected.
“Well, I’m in too.” Said Tony.
You smiled at your team. “Well then, let’s get going.” You stated. Nick shook his head.
“Don’t get yourself killed.” He muttered, storming away. You rolled your eyes at him before turning to the team.
“Well, let’s get going, we’re getting her back people!”
You ducked behind a bolder, glancing at Steve. “You sure she’s here?” I asked he nodded.
“Tony tell her.”
“Wanda has a unique radiation signature. She emits waves of some sort, it’s related to the mind stone and how it created her powers. So using the satellite… that I own we tinkered with it a bit and used vision to create a stable frequency to operate on and then we found her. So we track the signal…”
“We track her. We need a run of the building… Stark?”
He nodded before shooting off into the sky. We waited for his mark. My stomach fluttered, you were nervous with anticipation. Steve squeezed my shoulder, making me glance up at him. “We’re going to get her back.”
You nod. “Oh I know that, I’m just anxious.”
“Okay, I have good news and bad news.” Tony’s voice filtered through the comms.
“What is it Stark?” Steve asked.
“There’s about seventy hydra agents between us and Maximoff. Good news is she’s alive.” He informed. I smirked.
“Well, I guess this is about to get bloody.” You smirked, twirling your daggers around your fingers, sliding them into their covers.
“You ready?” Steve asked the rest of the team. We all nodded. A sudden flash of lighting ripped through the sky before I heard a loud thud.
“Hey little one. Thought you could use the help.” Thor grinned. You smiled at him before hugging him.
“You’re a star.”
“Actually, I’m a god.” He said seriously. You rolled your eyes.
“It’s a metaphor, now let’s kick some Hydra ass.”
The seven of you moved out. “Clint and Nat, you go left. Banner takes the right Thor and Tony your our air support, y/n and I will draw their attention up front. We clear?” Steve instructed I nodded and everyone split off into their positions.
Steve looked at you, and you nodded, your hands glowing their usual sapphire colour. With a yell, you threw your hands forward, blowing up their armoured cars. They were blasted back a few hundred yards, rolling into their fences. Agents flooded the area, and we all began to fight.
Sweat and blood dripped down your forehead as you pulled your body to the side rolling on the ground you avoided an onslaught of bullets. “Cap shield!” You called out, and he threw it at you. You caught it before slamming it onto another guy's head. “Thor!” You yelled, holding the shield above your head. With all his might he slammed his hammer onto the shield creating a loud boom which threw our assailants back. There was a slight ringing in your ear as you blinked back the disorientation. Throwing Cap his shield back, you unsheathed your daggers and advanced forward.
Their technique is sloppy, you thought as you slicked your blades across two hydra agents stomach, their blood splashing across you coating your cheeks in crimson. You held no remorse as you continued ripping through their defences. And soon enough you all had made your way inside, still fighting.
And then you saw her. She was bound to a chair, her powers stolen from her by the collar around her neck. Your anger only intensified when you saw Strucker holding a gun to her head. She looked frightful as she saw me walk in. She rocked in her chair, whimpering. “No! You’ve got to leave.” She cried. You narrowed your eyes at her.
“Not without you.” You said as you slammed Stucker across the room with your powers. Wanda looked at you, her eyes shining with tears.
And then you felt like the energy had been sucked out of you as something was clasped around your neck. Rumlow held a knife to your throat causing the team to worry not one of them moved as they were ambushed by Hydra agents.
“No, leave her alone! Let her go!” Wanda screamed, struggling in her chair. Strucker laughed.
“Ooo, you care for her. This is going to be even more fun. Should we tell the team about your past, Miss Blake?”
Fear etched into your heart at the thought of them finding out. “We don’t care what she’s done. She’s with us now.” Steve spat as you smiled at him before Rumlow pressed the knife harder to your neck, causing the skin to split and blood to trickle down your skin.
“Are you sure? She acts like an angel, but in reality she’s a demon. Tell me who is capable of murdering their own parents?”
The room stilled, and your anger burned. “They we’re not my parents!” You yelled.
“Harold and Iris Blake. What a pair.”
“Shut up!” You yelled. He smirked at you, walking over to you, holding a knife. “Should we show them?”
Your bravado melted as he held the knife to your shirt.
“No, no. Please, no!” You all but begged. He smiled at you as he stared to rip your shirt. “Let me go!” You screamed tears brimmed your eyes.
“You see, your friend here was Hydra property. Everything about her is unique. We wanted her power, so we took it. Though our methods left that pretty little body of yours all scarred up,” he paused, looking at the guys. “Not so hot anymore.” He laughed as he discarded your ripped clothes. He ran his hands down your sides, gripping your hips.
“Don’t fucking touch her like that!” Wanda yelled.
“Let her go!” Tony spat, breaking free of his guards. The group soon following.
“Why are you mad at me her daddy did most of this? Isn’t that right, cricket?”
“Don’t call me that.” You whispered. He laughed at you.
“Just like your mother. Weak and pathetic! She was worse in someways. How she’d mentally torture you. Got a rise out of your old man though.”
Your anger burned you and you felt the urge to scream. He continued to trail the knife across your stomach, cutting open old scars. You felt your fists twitch with power. Throwing your head back, you slammed it into Rumlow’s face. He slipped the knife, slicing your skin, but you ignored the pain as best you could. “I said let go!” You yelled as you blasted Stucker against the wall. With the flick of your wrists, the assailants fighting your friends all dropped to the floor.
All you could focus on was the deep-rooted anger burning its way through you. Grabbing either side of Strucker’s head, you focused on his worst fears, bringing them to the forefront of his mind. He began screaming in paralysing fear as you tricked his brain into thinking these things were happening in real life. You wanted to kill him for even laying a hand on Wanda, and then you wanted to destroy him for outing your deepest secrets. You leant forward into his ear. “You’re going to regret what you just did, to her and to me.”
He dropped to the ground, pulling his knees up into his chest whilst hysterically sobbing. You turned to your team. Rumlow had just gotten up. Without aiming, he pulled out his gun and fired three shots. Your eyes widened as you realised they were heading straight for Wanda.
You couldn’t do anything else but throw her to the floor now you were standing in her place. The bullets ripped through you and you stumbled back. Your hands resting on your stomach, which was now leaking your blood. Fear bubbled inside you and you and Wanda locked eyes. “No!” she screamed as she caught you before you hit the floor.
The world faded away and the last thing you remember was staring into the red-rimmed eyes of the only woman you have ever loved.
Ahh! What did I just do😬😬
I hope you’re all like the story so far ☺️
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#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#Wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#scarlet witch x reader#scarlett witch fluff#scarlet witch imagine#wanda x you#wanda x fem! Reader#avengers#avengers imagine#fluff and smutt#natasha romanoff#tony stark#steve rogers#fight#mission#rating: mature#smut#fluff#reblog#like#series#part 2#awesome
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sabbatical (steve x reader, smut)
Summary : In a universe where Steve Rogers kept his youth but gave his shield away to Sam Wilson, he takes a well deserved break with you, in a farm far away from New York.
Pairing : Steve Rogers x female reader.
Words : 1,650.
TW : Smut. Unprotected sex, rough sex, touching, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), massage.
Note : First time writing smut with Steve, who is one of my favorite character. Please, feel free to send in more MCU characters you would like to read smutty one-shot with, because I would love to try new things. Enjoy!
I’m open for request, just check the submit new stories button on my page. ♡
Two weeks had passed and both of you were still here, a smile on your face, and lighthearted. Maybe that was what life was meant to be. Since your boyfriend stopped being everyone’s Captain America and started being yours and only yours, you had never felt so good. Long nights without nightmares, moments of isolation — when he was under the shower or at the groceries — where you didn’t have to worry about people from other planets and other timelines attacking him, and hours of pure love, unbothered. Yes, you loved this sabbatical both of you decided to share.
As Steve was fixing the broken deck chair in the garden, you stayed in the kitchen cooking his favorite meal, staring at him through the windows. You must have been one lucky woman, you believed. How many people would have wanted this? Wanted Steve Rogers as their best friend, partner and lover? Possibly the whole country, yet here he was, with you. As he caught you looking through the window, a smirk appeared on his face, visibly amused by your actions.
“How long have you been checking me out?“ He asked when he entered the kitchen, five minutes later.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Steve.“
He chuckled, stepping closer to you to wrap his strong arms around your waist, resting against your back as he watched you cook.
“It smells good, as always.“
Steve loved complimented you, and you loved when he did so. Staying silent a couple of minutes, you took time to enjoy this simple moment of life, in the arm of the man you loved, as you finished preparing the meal. Turning off the heater, you turned around to face the strong blond man.
“You know, seeing you all sweaty fixing that chair was really hot. And feeling your body against mine isn’t helping me getting all those dirty thoughts away from my mind.“
Eyes filled with lust, you tilted your head only to stare at him for a second. You loved how puzzled he always seemed at first, when you were being inappropriate with him. It had been months now, but he still wasn’t use to how dirty your mouth could be.
"I’m glad I can turn you on without even trying, doll.“
Steve knew how much you loved this nickname, and how old-school it seemed, coming from your World War soldier. Pushing him away from your body, you forced him to rest his back against the counter, as your hands move to unbuckle his belt.
“I’m going to show you how much you turn me on, Steve.“
That smirk appeared on his face again, and you knew he was ready for it. Taking his pants and boxers down, you kneeled in front of him, giving him those good-girl eyes he liked so much. Your hand massaged his cock slowly, feeling it harden under your fingers slowly as you started pressing harder and moving up and down his shaft. Steve had always been reactive to your touch, and you loved it. Locking your eyes with his, you moved closer to give a lick at the tip, owning a groan from your man.
“Do you want me to suck you off, Captain? Do you want me to make you cum in my mouth?“
“Y-Yes !“
He was already diving into the pleasure your hand was giving him, as you pumped faster. Finally taking him into your mouth, you bobbed your head up and down, making sure your lips were giving him enough suction to making him moan your name in pleasure. He loved it. Taking his cock off your mouth to catch your breath, your hand moved faster to wank him.
“Steve, you better cum in my mouth, okay? Tell me I’m going to make you feel so good that you won’t be able to take it anymore.“
“It feels awesome, doll. Please, don’t stop..!“
And it was enough for you to dive back, cock buried deep inside your mouth as he started bucking his hips to meet your thrusts.
“Fuck, I’m.. close..“ He moaned in pleasure, legs shaking from the pleasure your lips and mouth were giving him.
Making sure you would help him reach his orgasm, you deepthroated him, and he climaxed crying your name out. The feeling of his hot seed in your mouth made you moan, well aware of how wet you had grown while going down on him. You swallowed every drop of his cum, cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood back up.
“That is not how I expected the day to start, baby.“ Steve said, pulling his pants back up.
You chuckled, kissing his lips before going back to preparing lunch for you and your lover. As the sun was shinning today, you decided to settle everything down under the porch, on the wooden table. You loved how close you could feel to the nature, here. While you were eating, you took time to listen to the birds and the bees, and the sound of the wind in the trees, as Steve was taking time to admire the woman he wished to call his wife, someday.
“The food is great, baby. Thank you so much.“
You smiled again, loving the feeling of having a man that loved you for who you were, and that wasn’t underestimating who you were. You finished your plate and looked at your boyfriend for long minutes with a feeling of luck, again.
“Do you want to try this old deck chair, doll? I’ll take care of the cleaning.“
You chuckled and nodded. While Steve cleaned the table and the kitchen, you went to lay down in the chair, the sun caressing your skin softly. It was a pure moment of bliss. To enjoy the sunbeam, you took your shirt and jeans off, using your matching bra and panties as a sunbathing suit — it wasn’t like anyone else could see you, outside from Steve.
“Are you enjoying the sun, baby?“
Steve walked back towards you after fifteen minutes, with a soft smile on his face. You nodded again, moving to the side to make room for him by your side. Despite his rather big and strong figure, he fitted, your body cuddling up against him. In a moment of tenderness, the blond soldier grazed your skin, rubbing on the few spots on your back — he even earned a few moans from you. He massaged your shoulders and kissed the back of your neck, and just like in the kitchen, you started to feel a wet spot on your underwear, squeezing your legs together in hope that he wouldn’t notice.
“You’re okay, doll?“ He asked as he rubbed another spot on your back that made you moan.
“Don’t stop..“ You simply asked, eyes closed while you clenched your legs together harder.
Your boyfriend didn’t hesitate, massaging your back harder only to get you to moan for him again and again — it was becoming obscene to moan so loud when he wasn’t even touching you down there, you thought. Slowly, he moved his hands down to your hips, grabbing the hem of your underwear to take it off.
“What are you doing?“
“Making sure my woman is satisfied.“
His husky voice made you shiver, and you felt him undoing his belt and pants again, pushing them down behind your back. When you tried to turn around, his strong hand maintained you in position, and you suddenly felt his cock slide between your ass checks a few times, making it harden.
“Oh, fuck—“ You moaned again as his cock finally found his way between your thighs, and then inside your core.
You clenched around him, his cock pulsating inside you, as you took a minute to adjust to his size. He already penetrated you so many times, but you always needed a minute to adjust to how big he was. Super soldier thing, you believed. He grabbed your breast with one hand, and started to thrust inside you, pulling your body closer at each of his push.
“Steve, god, you feel so good!“
Your back arched against him as he picked up the pace, feeling your wetness dripping on his cock and between your legs. You were soaked for him, and Steve loved it.
“Keep talking, doll.“
And so you did, interrupted by your moans of Steve’s groans, the pleasure building up for both of you.
“Fuck me harder, Steve! I love the way y—you’re taking me. You’re so big. Oh my… Steve, don’t stop!“
It seemed to arouse him more, and he turned both of you around before entering you again. Now on all fours, Steve behind you, you were glad this house was the only one in the forest, or else the neighbors would have been hearing the sound of his body meeting yours harder and harder, his hips slapping your ass each time he moved back in.
“I’m getting closer!“ You cried out, spreading your legs wider to feel him hitting that spot you loved.
When he did, you back arched again in pleasure, and you were nothing but a panting and moaning mess, close to reaching your orgasm on Captain America’s cock.
“Fuck! Steve, right there!“
He could feel you clench around his hard cock, knowing how close he was too. But he needed to make you come first, so he reached between your legs, massaging your clit with his strong fingers. There was nothing soft in his strokes, and that was exactly what you needed. You screamed in ecstasy, hips bucking against him as you came hard.
“Yes, —coming! Fuck, Steve, oh yes!“
Pulling out, your man grabbed his cock in his hand and gave it a few strokes before releasing his cum all over your round ass.
“Ah, fuck!“ He moaned loudly.
Once again, you thought about how lucky you were to be living away from any other human-being — you both were way too loud to have neighbors.
#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers smut#captain america#captain america x reader#captain america smutt#chris evans#chris evans smut#chris evans imagine#avengers imagine#avengers smut#marvel smut#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic
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STILL NOT OVER YOUR NEIGHBORS AU 😭😭💖💖
IS IT THE ONE WHERE STEVE RIPS A LOG IN HALF??? BECAUSE SAME.
Just kinda wrote a little thing for it, boo, don’t mind me...
---Okay I started in my usual style with just the cute description of Bucky arriving and checking out Steve, but then I tried to summarize what would happen after and it got SO HORNY. Like I went from “Oh nature, what a beautiful man this is” to “Bucky wants to grind endlessly on Steve’s lap”.
I mean, what can I say? Bucky is just horny for Steve and so am I.
Okay, so: Bucky driving out to a quiet village to be around nature more, to reinvent himself, to relax and get his mind straight. The last couple of months had really send him over the edge, and he could no longer stand to be in the city that never sleeps. After a lot of manipulation and mind games of people he thought were his friends, he made up his mind and packed his stuff. He wanted to break out of that, get far away to somewhere the life would agree with him more.
When his car pulled up on the other side of the pebble-filled road, the small stones scrunching beneath the tires, he could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, and when he stepped out, the rustling noises of nothing but nature surrounded him at once. He almost felt guilty for obscuring the sound of birds tweeter, crickets chirping and the wind blowing through the canopy of trees with the roaring of his car.
He got his stuff from the trunk; two suitcases and a stuffed backpack. The house came with furniture included, so there was no need for a moving van or all that mess. He could move in immediately. It was a small house, but he liked it already; though he supposed the mosquitoes that had attacked him already would be of great annoyance to him. Truth be told, Bucky wasn’t much of an outdoors person. But his mother had told him it would be good to get out for once. To just try something new.
Walking up to his house, he stopped in his tracks once he caught sight of a moving blur. He looked at his side, over the low fence to the other garden. There was a man there, walking out of his own house leisurely. Bucky cocked his head to the side, frowning a little as he watched the man grab something from his porch, before he strolled towards the pile of wood that was lying in the center of his garden. The man raised his hands and the ax, and then took a swing at the wood, huge biceps flexing and showing with a glimmer of golden skin.
He must have been doing it for a while, because Bucky could see the tight shirt he was wearing stick to his skin, adjusting to every bump and... and every curve of that man’s body. The man had thick strands of blonde hair, and a body that could make a Greek god jealous.
What Bucky could see were impossibly long legs that the man used to strut around so carelessly. The proportion of the blond’s broad shoulders to his narrow, tapered waist were drool-worthy, to say the least, and the way he swayed his hips when he moved should be illegal. The man was wearing a short-sleeved, blue shirt that showed the contours of muscular arms that worked to swing the ax, and Bucky wanted to run his hands across it, slipping beneath the shirt that should not be there. The blond was wearing a pair of jeans that reached to his ankles, showing off all the curves, the outlines of his thighs, and a peachy-firm ass that Bucky would not mind grabbing whenever he’d bend over like that, to grab a piece of wood.
Just as Bucky thought of calling out, walking closer to make himself known, the man took the piece of wood in hand and ripped the thing in two with his bare hands. Like that, Bucky started to imagine what other things those strong hands could do.
Licking his lips, Bucky’s hand tightened around the handle of his suitcase, thumb rubbing across the grip a little, and he shifted on his feet, pressing his thighs together just slightly as he kept staring at the blond hunk that was chopping wood like it was a porn movie, and he was going for an Oscar. If it’d been up to Bucky, he would get one. Like right now.
Oh, if only this man had a co-star to finish that movie with.
---
Or basically, Steve is the big strong neighbor chopping wood and doing all the super manly stuff, and then Bucky comes along and suddenly it’s not just wood anymore that Steve wants to split in half.
I’m thinking they’re both very interested, but in different ways. Like it’s Bucky who comes over and grabs Steve’s ass, whines for more attention, gets into the dirty stuff really quickly, and wants his kisses, but it’s Steve who uses those big hands of his to just grab every part of Bucky that he wants, lifting him up against his chest so Bucky can curl those legs of his around Steve’s waist so Steve can just shamelessly have his hands on Bucky’s ass, hips and back. Or Steve sets Bucky on the kitchen counter, on a log, on a table, anything that reaches high enough for them so Bucky can run his hands through Steve’s hair, on his neck, throat, shoulders, pecks (mostly his pecks, probably).
Like Bucky would have a thing for Steve’s big hands that can rip a log in half, but Steve has a thing for Bucky’s hips and waist (and everything between ;), and he just loves how Bucky can curl his legs around Steve’s waist. Bucky would be taking every excuse to just straddle Steve’s lap, and though Steve had been unsure what to do at first, it would come to him very naturally after that. It started with Steve just murmuring praise and soft things, saying how Bucky’s such a pretty boy, which turned to heavy make-out sessions, and eventually Steve pulling his baby close so that Bucky could grind on him, get closer and closer, and Steve would bite softly at Bucky’s lips, then mark up the soft skin of Bucky’s neck, and really, feeling Bucky get needier and needier against him was just undefeated.
Like Steve’s not very familiar with this kind of relationships, and it’s very new to him to just have a pretty boy in his lap, grinding his thigh and telling him where to kiss and what to grab, but Steve’s a real natural. Once he gets on track it goes from nervously just massaging Bucky’s hips and skimming along his thighs, kissing him softly and gentle, and asking, “Is that okay? A-am I doing it right? Are you supposed to make that noise?!”
To something more like: Steve making Bucky grind on his thigh, working himself up to the climax, just so that Steve can grab him and hold him still, denying him that what Bucky wants, relishing in watching Bucky whine and squirm and trying to buck his hips to get that friction back, and all Steve says is, “Such a sweet mess, aren’t you, darling’? Wan’ me to kiss those lips all red? Huh? Tell me what you want, baby. Want to grind against my thigh until you cum, moaning and begging like the sweet little slut you always are for me? Is that what you want? Tell me baby, wan’ me to grab that cute lil’ waist of yours and just hold you down until I say you can cum? Hm? Is that what you want?”
And yeah, that’s exactly what Bucky wants.
---
Ok I am so sorry if this isn’t what you meant, but it’s really all I could think of.
#asking starmyth#ask#stucky#stucky neighbor au#neighbor au#stucky au#stucky smutt#I tried my best okay#I just couldn't decide who was the sub#both I think#both is good#switch?#steve rogers#bucky barnes
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Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)
Six:
Arriving home, Steve let out a long sigh and headed straight for the master bedroom. Plopping face-first on the king size bed, Steve let out an annoyed groan. He had been there for two hours and only one parent had seen him. And she wasn't even there to talk about her daughter!
Sighing again, Steve pushed himself off the bed and stripped from his white button down. Choosing to exchange his navy-blue slacks for a pair of black joggers, he made a reminder that to do laundry later. Deciding he needed more comfort than just cozy clothes, he took one of Bucky's sweatshirts, a gray one with the graphic of, The Evolution of an Architecture Student, and tugged it on over his head, mussing his blond hair in the process.
Pushing the sleeves up to his elbows, Steve headed upstairs to the main level of the house. Loving how full of life the space was. Holly in her play-pen speaking baby gibberish. Cartoons on the TV, Steve followed behind the couch to press a kiss to Sophia's and Ethan's heads, all the while continuing. Crossing through the dining room until he entered the kitchen where Bucky was cleaning up.
The heavenly aroma of Great Grandma Rosa's vegetable beef soup filled the air and Steve closed his eyes as he breathed it in. It was one of the recipes that the pair had inherited when they moved in together. It was one of the most cherished recipes either made, and Bucky always made it best.
"How were the conferences?"
Steve opened his eyes and crossed the room. Looping his arms around Bucky's waist, he rested his forehead to the taller man's back and complained, "One parent. That's all, and it wasn't even a conference. All she did was hit on me and then cry when she saw your picture on my desk."
"Oof," Bucky chuckled under his breath. Lovingly, he brought Steve's left hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the finger with the rings that Bucky gave to him over the years. "Glad you let her down gently."
Playfully, Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head. Taking another smell of the air, he changed the subject, "You made soup?"
"I did," Bucky confirmed, turning his head to look over at the stove where a large pot of soup was. "Figured you'd want some comfort food tonight."
"You thought right," Steve pressed a kiss to the middle of his shoulder blades and turned to get himself something to eat.
Before he could divvy a portion out for himself though, a car pulled into their driveway. Crossing over to look out the window, he found a rusted red sedan driven by a teen brunette. In the passenger seat was a boy with shaggy brown hair. As the back passenger door opened, the teens in the front turned back to talk to Luke, Steve assumed.
Sure enough, the boy climbed out of the car and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Closing the door, he took a step back and waved as the car backed up. Pausing briefly, she flashed a wide grin and honked the horn.
"She's cute," Bucky commented, standing behind his husband.
Steve nodded, agreeing, "That's probably why he has a crush on her."
For a moment, the pair stood there, looking out the window watching their son wave at the girl who dropped him off. However, Luke must've realized they'd be watching because he glanced up at the second story window, catching them.
Quickly, the couple jumped back from the window and tried to play nonchalance. Steve ladled out some of the soup for himself and made a mess when Luke entered from the deck door. Trying to soothe his racing heart, he grabbed a sponge and started wiping the counter.
"Did you eat?" Steve asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Luke's eyes widened and he glanced between his dads as he crossed his arms along his chest, "Are we just not going to talk about how you two were spying?!"
"We weren't spying," Bucky playfully rolled his eyes.
Steve rolled his eyes at his husband and clarified to Luke, "We heard the car and were curious about your band friends."
The teen glanced between the two a couple of times. After a moment, he sighed and pulled out a stool as he took a seat at the island. "I’m starving. Marching band was beyond tiring."
"Yeah, but at least we know you'll put on a good performance," Bucky smiled.
Placing a bowl of the infamous soup in front of the fifteen year old, Steve assured, "Your dad's right, you guys are gonna be great."
A red hue took up on the apples of Luke's dark brown cheeks as he ducked his head to eat the soup. Grabbing another bowl, Steve started filling it for himself, and just took a moment to breathe in that glorious aroma. Especially as he carried it around the island to take a seat next to Luke.
Gathering a large spoonful, Steve happily began stuffing his face. Not realizing how hungry he was until that moment. However, that was the moment when his phone started ringing. Pulling it from the jogger pockets, he was about to decline the call until he spotted the caller ID.
Chewing as quickly as possible, he knew that he wouldn't be able to answer it in time. And considering Maria Hill only called in regards to kids who needed a place to stay, Steve passed the phone over to Bucky. For a moment Bucky's brows furrowed until he, too, realized who was calling.
"Hello?" Bucky answered, "It's Bucky."
Swallowing the half-chewed food that wasn't nearly ready to be digested, Steve winced and stood from his stool. Bucky listened and occasionally nodded while adding, "right," and, "no, I get it." Steve gestured for the phone and was only vaguely aware that Luke was carrying his dinner out of the room.
"Maria, I'm gonna put you on speaker," Bucky informed before doing just that.
"As I was saying," Maria sounded apologetic, which was utterly ridiculous. "She needs a place to stay, and I know that you're both good with teens. So, would it be alright if she stayed with you. If only for a night?"
Steve vocalized the decision for them, "We'll be right there."
"I'll call Tibby," Bucky said, heading over to the charging dock and picking up his phone.
"I'm gonna change Holly; I'm sure that she's due for a fresh diaper."
Phone already pressed to his ear, Bucky nodded. As Steve rushed from the kitchen, he heard Bucky telling his youngest -- and closest in location -- sister that they needed her to watch the kids for them. Steve picked Holly up out of her play-pen and affectionately pressed kisses to her face while baby-talking, "Does someone need a new diapie?!"
Holly smiled and slobbered all over him. Steve's mind wandered to her possibly getting a new tooth as he carried her upstairs to the room she shared with Katie. When Katie was home, of course. Walking past the twin size bed, Steve laid the baby on the changing table.
"Would you like a new sister?" Steve happily asked.
Holly just cooed some more gibberish and Steve nodded as though he understood. She kicked her legs and chewed on her fist, but all-in-all it was a successful changing. Carrying her back downstairs, Steve playfully pretended that he was going to eat her tiny fist, earning giggles and even a squeal.
"Tibby said she'll be here soon," Bucky confirmed as Steve placed Holly back into the play-pen.
"Good," Steve nodded, righting himself and taking a moment to stretch a little bit further until his back delightfully cracked.
"So, we're getting a new sibling?" Luke questioned, leaning against the dining room doorway.
Steve shared a look with Bucky. If it was up to Steve, they'd foster and adopt every child that needed a loving home. Even if it was unrealistic. The pair had a completely silent conversation with quirked brows and slight shrugs. Being together as long as they had been together, they had gotten good at reading each other.
"Maybe," the pair answered in unison.
Averting his gaze, Luke nodded, but didn't say anything. Being one of the first kids that Steve and Bucky brought into their home, he was always hesitant to accept anyone else. Steve couldn't blame him, before Luke and Jonas had moved in with them, the younger of the two had been relentlessly bullied by the other foster children. And Steve hoped that Luke knew that no one would be bullied under their roof. Especially not by someone who cohabited under that roof.
"Okay, I'm here!" The twenty-three year old woman called out as she let herself in through the front door, "And I brought company!"
Turning to face the front of the house, Steve found not only Tibby but her beloved Golden Retriever, Thor, who excitedly led the way into the house. Instantly, Sophia and Ethan started loving on the large dog who happily accepted all the attention.
"Thanks, Tibs," Bucky said, appreciatively, crossing the room to give his youngest sister a hug.
"Don't mention it," Tibby smiled, giving his torso a squeeze before they both let go. "You know that I love the kids. Plus," Tibby crossed the living room to hug Steve, "I needed to see the best big bro in the history of ever."
Bucky feigned shock and annoyance at her joke, and Steve laughed into the embrace. Even Tibby was taller than him. Not by much, but enough to annoy him during pictures at the Barnes' childhood home. Besides, she was supposed to be the small one. The small one that Steve still thought of her as. The little girl who would beg him to color with her and accidentally break his crayons, and who would fall asleep in his arms to kid appropriate spooky movies.
It was always odd for his mind to first conjure up the face of the six year old he first met with the now twenty-three year old. Sure, she still had that cute Barnes' nose, even with the hoop hanging from her septum and the ring that looped around her right nostril. Sure, she still had those thick brown curls, even if they were colored a vibrant purple now. And while she was an adult, her heart had remained just as spirited as the day he met her.
"Thanks, Tibs," Steve briefly rested his head on her shoulder, "Really."
"Of course," Tibby reassured. Pulling out of the embrace, she gestured towards the door, "Now get outta here, so I can spend some much needed time with my nieces and nephews."
Playfully rolling his eyes, Steve took her advice by blowing the kids kisses on his way downstairs to the garage. Glad that he didn't need to say anything for Bucky to follow him. Also glad when the pair climbed into the car and Bucky immediately took his hand, lacing their fingers.
#a place to fall#jump then fall#those who fall#bonus#stucky#steve rogers#bucky barnes#steve rogers x bucky barnes#marvel#fanfic#wattpad#ao3#modern au#domestic life#fluff#smutt#otp
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