#steve rogers writing challenge
Note
Divorce with either Steve/Andy I'm feeling angsty.
Whether happy/sad ending is up to you :)
Hi bestie <3 I'm sorry it has taken more time than I thought but my drabble turns into a one-shot before I can even realize skjksjskjskjksj
hope you'll enjoy this <3
Lie, Lie, Lie
Steve Rogers x You (Mutant!Reader)
Warning: Swearing, Angst, Divorce, (also asshole-ish Avengers?)
W/C: 5.4 K
Summary: A small leak will sink a great ship. -- Benjamin Franklin
A/N: My first entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.
It starts with a minor, insignificant detail.
Just some static in the phone, really.
A snippet of sound that common people would interpret as bad signals, considering that Steve is phoning you from thousands of miles away, while you are using the landline.
For holy Mary’s sake, who the hell still uses landlines today?
Apparently, the academic conferences you attend do.
Steve notices the small static buzzing the call you are having, after which you grumble in frustration, “Stupid signals, can’t even function properly.”
He smiles, knowing that you can’t see the expression on his face. You are cute even when you are complaining.
You sigh deeply on the other end of the phone, your voice slightly distorted from the electronic, or wireless, transmission, “I miss you, Stevie. Can’t wait to come home.”
“It’ll only be two more days,” Steve reassures you with his soothing timbre, “I’ll be waiting for you at the airport, alright? First thing you’ll see after getting off that plane.”
“Okay.” You know he can hear you pouting, but you pout anyway, “Gotta have some sleep now. I’m going to the keynote tomorrow morning.”
“Take care of yourself.” Steve holding on to his phone, wincing again as the static buzzes again, but it appears only on his end, as you seem unaffected by it, “Take care of my favorite scientist and my favorite girl for me, okay?”
“I am your favorite girl. And you know I have my powers.” You try your best to stifle a large yawn, but Steve senses your tiredness right away.
“Sleep tight, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Steve blows a kiss, hoping that it would travel across oceans and lands via the phone, and reach your forehead.
“Night, Steve.”
“Good night, sweetheart.”
You are about to hang up when the static tortures his ear again.
You hang up.
Static isn’t a problem for most people, who, unlike Steve, don’t have super hearing and super memory.
Steve could think that the static is a minor interference, however, static that appears during phone calls are hardly inconsistent. And if he has learned a thing or two during the time that landlines are still fairly popular – 40s, by the way – is that static doesn’t go on and off, nor does it blur on different pronunciations since static should naturally have a pattern.
Since Stark phones issued by the friendly billionaire is certainly off the question, he suspects that someone might be tapping into your landline.
Something is off. His intuition is telling him. So, he called Tony and asked for a favor.
After some analysis that Steve couldn’t fully understand, Tony presses his index finger to his lips tightly, humming to himself.
“Anything?” Steve watched as Tony chugged down the fifth cup of coffee ten minutes ago, and now Tony has been unusually quiet.
Tony spins his chair around, looking thoughtful. He waves his fountain pen in midair, pointing at his screen in general, “This isn’t some sort of prank Bruce asked you to play, is it?”
“Prank? Tony, this is my wife we’re talking about.” Steve is about to lose his patience. He crosses his arm, dead serious, “What is … this? Am I being paranoid or …”
He wouldn’t dare to think about you in actual danger and he’s sitting cozily in Avengers Compound. He could’ve been risking your precious rescue time. Or warn you, somehow.
Even knowing that you have your special powers.
Your mutant powers.
Still, there are hundreds of ways for you to be defenseless.
A collar could suppress all your powers. A shot of the new dose of Mutant Serum could make you lose your X-gene once and for all. And all those terrible things that could happen to you.
Tony scratches his goatee, his expression is puzzled, to say the least, “this static that you provided, looks like the interface Bruce and I were cooking up for a Friday-upgrade.”
“English, please, Tony.”
Tony magnifies the example of static extracted from the recording that is automatically stored on Stark servers, and pulls out a random MRI brain scan from Steve’s health exam last year, “See what I mean?”
Steve watches the two waves on the screen closely, almost stuttering from what he is summarizing, “They look … similar.”
“Exactly.” Tony throws the MRI scan off the screen and points to the static, “This? This isn’t sound. This is human thinking. Hell, thinking, I’m not even sure it’s human. And it has a purpose. The reason you are hearing the ‘static’ – I’ll name that thing later, is that it serves as a relay, that patches you through its – thinking, whatever, and directs your call to Y/N.”
“It isn’t Friday?” Steve blurts out the only AI he could think of.
“If it is Friday, the Nobel committee is handing me the award right this moment.” Tony snorts, but he turns serious as soon as he notices Steve’s worrying look, “but with this fragment, I can locate Y/N,” and with a few taps on the keyboard, a global map appears in front of them.
Tony mutters to himself, “Can’t track the relay itself, but I can … ”
Another few keystrokes and a red dot blip.
“… in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.” Tony isn’t even sure about what the blipping dot shows, “Now this can’t be right-” Tony looks back at Steve, whose eyebrows are tying up like knots, “Where did you say she’s having this academic conference?”
“Leipzig, Germany.” Steve answers without a second thought, “Quantum 2023.”
Tony looks awe-struck.
“I’m sending a team to get her.” Steve stands up from his seat abruptly, heading to the doorway, but Tony’s words make him stop.
“Quantum 2023 is next week, Steve. And it isn’t held in Leipzig.”
“But that’s impossible,” Steve turns on his heels, glaring at Tony, “She told me that she came into contact with some Professor, who invited her to this conference because she was doing so well with her panel back in January.”
“And what’s that panel?”
“CPS Quantum Computer-”
“CPSQ was never held this year.” Tony shakes his head, “The conference was cancelled because a main member of the CPSQ committee passed away last December. What else has she told you?”
“I can’t tell you.” You dare not read his face. Your gaze lands on the marble counter that you and Steve agreed on two years ago, instead of him. You lied. And you know you lied. And the fact that you know that you can tell him nothing, makes you even more scared and frightened, as you are well aware the last things Steve would tolerate are betrayal and infidelity.
Your shared home, once a sanctuary for you and the love of your life, now withering and shaken, cold and gloomy. It no longer is a safe haven for you.
“Did anyone blackmail you with anything?” Steve asks calmly.
He’s prepared for the worst things to come.
He spent the whole night with Tony trying to figure out the so-called “academic conferences” you were supposed to be a part of, and there were eight of them during the last three years.
Some calls were too old to trace, but Tony has figured out it with the recent three conferences, you weren’t doing Keynotes or presenting your results to academia, but in the same spot in the Pacific doing God knows what.
It was undocumented waters. Tony could only gather so much info that the islands in the vicinity were bought by a mysterious wealthy man who paid through his Kaymen Island account.
And you were visiting it almost every four months. Like clockwork.
There were a few heat signatures on the island, but with no visible vehicle, neither ferry nor helicopter in sight, Tony would have to guess that you would need someone who can transport you from where you were to the island.
“No.” You have no excuse. No reasons. No idea what you should say.
But you weren’t blackmailed. You went there voluntarily.
His gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. From the corner of your eyes, you can see he’s looking at you intensely. Trying to figure out whether you are still lying to him.
“Are you cheating?”
The other possible explanation he has thought of. Frightening, if an answer of certainty comes out of your mouth, but it would explain your lies. Steve curls his hand into a fist, the veins on his hand popping briefly onto his skin.
The hands that caressed your hair and your jaw, cradling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. All the gentle moves. Treating you as a soft and delicate being. Now a hard fist on the table.
He didn’t touch you on your way back to your home. Nor did he accept your hugs and kisses at the airport.
He was very disappointed.
“No.” You answer, with your head low.
How could he doubt your relationship? How could he doubt your love for him? Waiting for him to return after every battle, taking care of his wounds, having-
How could he think all of those were lies too?
“Then what are you hiding?”
Steve maintains his best manners not to crush the table under his fist into bits and pieces. He wants you to answer. Something. Tell him why he has been kept in the dark.
Anything.
You open your mouth, but no word comes out.
“I can’t tell you.” You whisper, your resolve of keeping the secret faltering under his piercing gaze. But you can’t tell him.
There’s turmoil in your stomach, wreaking havoc in your guts. You want to throw up when thinking about the truth, but cannot say it. Not with your teeth and tongue. Not with pen and paper. You cannot. You physically cannot.
Nothing remorseful or any expression similar appears on your face, as Steve observes your reaction closely.
“Please, Steve. I promise I’ll tell you, but now is not the time. It was – is an important … deed, to do.”
Steve stands up from his chair slowly.
Not even looking at you anymore, he sounds emotionless. Cold.
“I thought for a moment you were kidnapped. Tortured. Lured into a trap.”
“Steve-”
“I was this close,” he pinches his index finger and thumb together, “sending a full-blown rescue tactical team, to get you out.”
“Steve, please, just listen-”
“And are you talking, Y/N? Are you telling me what I need to hear?” He stands with his back to you, shaking with uncontrollable anger. “The truth, that’s all I want.”
“I can’t-”
“I can’t, either.” He interrupts you. For the entire time you can remember, from his cute and sweet attempts to ask you out on a date, from his chivalry of taking you out and asking you to be his wife, from the start of your happy marriage, he hasn’t once interrupted you when you were talking.
Tears roll down your eyes as you are tongue-tied, unable to utter a sound.
But Steve didn’t see those tears. If he did, he would have some idea that you are truly sorry for what you have done.
Steve stands with his back to you.
“I’ll save us the trouble and ask Tony to wipe our marriage from the system.”
Almost a shriek, your hands and feet are placed in the bottom of the ice pit, “You can’t-! I- You can’t!”
Your sobbing fills the room that was occupied by a dreadful silence. From your husband.
You would never imagine that a lie would go this far.
“Watch me.”
He can’t, not when you are-
Not when you are working on-
Not when you are trying to-
He can’t.
Realization dawns on you that even if you did tell him one thing that you can say to make him stay, he would consider it a lie.
Or an effort you make, trying to be bound to him.
That your trust is broken forever.
With that realization hitting you, he leaves the room.
Five years later, somewhere near Hawaii.
“This is really nice, what you got over here,” Tony comments in honesty, taking a step back to observe the rippling portal gate, “How long has it been put into use?”
Jean, the woman with flaming red hair and a scarf around her shoulders, has an impeccable smile on her face, leading the way as Natasha and Steve boarded the small vehicle up ahead, “Four. We used to transport to and from all over the world with the help of mutants who can create a portal. But as larger machines and construction materials were needed on Krakoa, the very land that you are standing on, our top scientists decided to benefit us all by inventing an instant portal device- Devices, should I say.”
As there are three large portals, each the size of a house, standing next to each other on the founding stones.
“Why are we even here?” Steve murmurs to Natasha, sounding confused, “I thought bargaining was Tony’s specialty…?”
“Smile, Rogers.” Natasha murmurs back, her eyes scanning the tropical island for any anomaly, “It’s a diplomatic event, not a business one.”
“Like a photo Op?”
“Like a peace offering.” Nat lowers her voice as she notices a mutant with bright green hair start the engine of their car, and take the position as their driver, “Krakoa now has the most efficient cancer eradication solution, and if we all behave and act like adults, the world would accept the possibility of the first mutant country. The UN is considering whether to add Krakoa as a new member country as we speak.”
“And if we blew it, WW3?”
“Worse. We will be hanged before we could say ‘assemble’.” Natasha sits straighter when Tony and Jean, the woman with red hair approaches the vehicle, and asks with a louder voice, “Would you mind telling us about the three-day trip planned on Krakoa?”
“Certainly.” With a look from Jean, the green-hair starts the car and drives away from the beach, heading towards a road that leads to the Krakoa city center. “We don’t have anything planned for this evening, so Lorna – our temporary driver - and I will show you around this place in general and escort you to your residence, where you will have dinner with our high council tonight. Tomorrow you’ll visit our university facilities and our most advanced laboratory, with our head scientist Hank. If you would like to visit any place else, feel free to tell us and we’ll try our best to satisfy your demands…”
Their residence is a small building near the city square. After a brief tour of the area, Jean tells them that normally they wouldn’t expect many visitors, so the building, though more well-equipped than most hotels, only resides the three of them, plus Jean for now.
Natasha strides across the room as Tony takes voice notes on his phone.
“… Their technology is at least two decades, if not three, more advanced than our top scientist.” With that as a summary, Tony stuffs his phone in his pocket.
And the room is filled with deafening silence.
“Do you think they cleared this place out when they are expecting us?” Steve sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Tony and Natasha.
“They are afraid of us, as we are afraid of them.” Natasha says slowly. Not really answering Steve’s question, but hinting at the opinion that she has in mind. Her striding comes to a halt, “The looks we had on our way here? Not all friendly.”
“Too bad we don’t have a mutant as a middleman.” Tony clicks his tongue, moving around his jaw like he has a toothache.
“Tony-” Starts Natasha warningly.
They all know one mutant who helped around in the Avengers a few years ago. They know one mutant was exceptionally close to Steve. Hell, they were even there to witness the wedding of-
“I’m gonna go get some air.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long exhale, before walking out of the room.
Of Steve and you.
You were not a powerful mutant. But you would be helpful, under a circumstance like this.
But Steve divorced you a few years back.
No one knows why. No one knows any information regarding the terrible divorce that made Steve leave you, leave the States for months.
Except that you were “missing” from time to time.
Natasha sits on the other armchair in the room, looking closely at Tony, and his greying beard. She chooses her words very carefully, “Was she…” Were you cheating back then? On Steve?
Tony shakes his head, “He never told me.”
“But is it possible that…”
“I wanted to believe the other way.” Tony nibbling at his bottom lip. In the end, he looks back at Natasha, the former Russian spy, “But the incident right after she left…”
A breach that erased all of your data, along with the data of three staff within the Avengers Compound, happened a few months after you left the Compound and disappeared. Not only the records of your information, but also calls and texts, almost every trace of your presence was erased completely from both Avengers Compound and the government system as well.
The three staff later identified as mutants. They fled from the compound on the same day of the incident.
No one knew where you were. No CCTV or surveillance camera has recorded your prescence ever since.
It's a shame to admit, but no one bothered to look either.
After all, there were no demands or ransoms asked. And they were too busy saving the world to care for such trivia.
Nothing else was missing.
A few printed photos that Steve kept in his office survived. Printed photos of you and him together. That he had kept in the bottom of his drawer ever since your divorce.
A week later, Krakoa was established, announcing itself as a country and providing shelters for all mutants.
Steve suspected that the two events might be connected somehow, but Krakoa banned anyone who isn’t a mutant from entering the territory and has been moving on the map ever since, refusing any prying eyes.
Steve wanders into the patch of green a few hundred inches away from the hotel, heading towards the beach.
He was painfully reminded of you.
Of your happy times together.
And the determination you showed when you refused to tell him about your affair.
Yes, your affair. Even though you denied it. Steve believes that you were lying to him. About your location, about your everything.
About your lover.
“… come on down little monkey!” A familiar voice ghosting his ears.
A little girl screams at the top of her lungs, before giggling and sitting at the far end of a branch on a tree a few meters away, “But it’s out of power-Hi, Uncle Hank!”
The girl has blonde curly hair, bouncing as she jumps on the thin branch that could snap at any second. Steve is about to sprint to rescue when he hears you.
Your familiar voice.
“Come on, Mommy will catch you.” You clap your hand, your back facing Steve, who is hiding in the bushes. Your arms stretched wide open, urging the little girl to come down.
Urging your daughter to come down from the tree? From a branch seven feet in the air? How are you even encouraging the little girl while she could break her neck is unfathomable to Steve. This is stupid. Reckless. Irresponsible. A total -
“Come on, little monkey.” You clap your hand again, “It won’t be half as fun if I have to come up and get you.”
“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know that the rocket boots will die so soon,” begins a man on your side, apologizing. A thin man with glasses in his 40s. “The battery is supposed to last five hours when I put them on- Oh.”
“Yes.” Steve hears your grumpiness, “Batteries. Hank. My expertise.”
Steve knows your expertise.
Although you studied quantum physics and its application, your interest in Physics derived from your ability to absorb power and power transformation. However, you were not particularly interested in fighting bad guys, that’s why you weren’t on missions as often as he thought you would.
Batteries. You would absorb electricity from it in an instant, even when you are not intentionally doing so.
“Exhibiting her abilities so soon?” Hank gasps in disbelief, raising his head to look at your daughter jumping on that twig, “Normally it would be until their teen years.”
You chuckle, “Missing out on the latest Bio lab, aren’t you? They just published a paper about how mutant parents would cause a higher rate of mutant children, and as a result, their abilities tend to show earlier. Even so,” you kick the sand under your feet, your voice less exciting, “Hers is showing earlier than I did.”
“You showed your ability when you were five, right?”
“Two months till five. But yeah, pretty early. She made the light in our room flick on and off, starting from a month ago.” You make one last attempt at your daughter, who is having her fun with those thick rocket boots on her feet, “Be a sweetheart and come down, alright? Mommy is getting tired and we haven’t had dinner yet.” You plead softly.
“Alright, Mommy.” The little girl answers.
As Steve watches from afar, worrying sick that your daughter would fall from the tree, she spreads her arms and falls from the tree. But like a piece of paper, descending slowly into your arms.
Absorbing gravity to cancel it out. One of your typical moves too. Steve thinks bitterly. No doubt the little girl is your daughter.
Hank offers something as you three walk further from Steve and the bush he’s hiding. Steve didn’t quite catch what he said, but he hears you reply with a certain “Yes”.
Your voice trails away, “But it’ll be fine. Won’t we, little monkey?”
The little girl giggles again.
“Do you want Daddy back, Mommy?” Your daughter Maddie asks abruptly as you take out the storybook before bed.
“I-” It would be a lie, to say that you do not want Steve. But years have gone by and you’ve built your life around Maddie and Krakoa. While you were desperate, wanting him back when you found yourself pregnant with Maddie, the night when he left your house, you knew that the only reason Steve would stick around, which is knowing that you are pregnant. Despite the responsibility he would be burdened with, he would also doubt whether he’s raising some other people’s child, since he already suspects that you were cheating, and your life would be miserable with his indifference.
You remember your panicking and fearing his leave.
Thinking that he can’t leave you, not when you are pregnant, not when you are working on a home and a shelter for your future children, trying to create a safe haven for you and your family.
But he left.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You tuck a strand of her blonde curls behind her ears, gazing into her beautiful cerulean eyes, “I hurt your father really bad when I made the big mistake that we talked about. And he hurt me too. Not that he wanted to, but he left me alone in this world.” You kiss her short chubby hand, placing her hand on your cheek, “We won’t be happy ever again. Because I lied to him. And he will always remember it.”
“Oh.” Maddie sounds disappointed, scrunching her little face together, “But Daddy knows you are doing the right thing, right? Building Kra-Kra-Krakoa and our home?”
She tried a few times to pronounce the word “Krakoa”, making you smile.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You explain to her with more patience than you can ever imagine, “I have never seen your father ever since.”
“He should!” Your daughter curls herself up into a ball in your arms, nuzzling your soft pyjamas, “He should be proud of you. And what you did. You help build the island, Mommy. Daddy should know. And he will forget your lying.”
Kids. Always thinking everything in the world is so simple. A small grin creeps up your lips.
But in your heart, the bitterness swirls into a dark pit.
Everyone else understood. Other mutants who had a family, who told their partners they will be gone for a while, who lied to their partners that they were needed for a job.
Their partners did. Their partners understood the cruelty of separation and the pain that those mutants cannot utter a word about their whereabouts, or the details of the job. The worst you’ve heard of, aside from yourself as an example, was a huge fight between Lorna and her boyfriend, but in the end, she forgave him after a week, having enough trust for both of them to continue their relationship and got married two years ago.
But no. Not Steve.
Steve, who quickly jumped to the conclusion that there was no need to continue this marriage.
Steve, after leaving word of divorcing you, left. To some shit-eating place in South Africa, for two whole months.
Two months. Two months of prying eyes and prodding questions from the Avengers, which you knew they were being kind and helpful, but you couldn’t stay there. Not when it brought pain and scars to your chest every time you’d see some possession that belonged to him, and cry your eyes out, nearly losing Maddie as a result. Not when they were also suspecting that you cheated on Steve and scolding you lightly, telling you to “speak to Steve and ask for his forgiveness”.
They were his family. Not really yours.
Yours is here.
You kiss her forehead, tucking her in, “I sure hope so. Good night, sweetheart.”
Your smile fades as your mind drifts to the human delegation that is alleged to arrive today.
You asked to be kept out of the loop and out of the trails that the delegation is visiting. You even confirmed with Hank today that you would take these three days off from the lab.
You blocked all relevant information regarding those visitors.
You were raised by this mutant family, by mutants such as Jean and Hank and befriended them, and you had your heart broken in the human world. You don’t want anywhere near humans ever again.
“These are some state-of-the-art devices. I have to say, I’m very impressed.” Tony tilts his head to the side, reading the metrics recorded on the screen in the up-state Bio lab, “This is not quite my expertise though, the project you are operating here.”
Hank magnifies the part Tony is observing onto the huge screen behind them, “We are trying to incorporate human thoughts into robots, but in a wireless form. With a thought-” Hank, the man in glasses, places two stickers onto his head, and a robotic arm on the far end of the lab begins writing “Welcome”, stopping dead when it comes to “O”. Hank shrugs, not even bothered by the failure of the demonstration, “We have a talented specialist that helps with coding, but there are always some interferences with the transmission.”
Natasha clears her throat to gain their attention, “I’m also very impressed with the construction of the island as a whole. A construction this large should take … what, five years and a couple hundred workers?”
“Two and a half, to be precise.” Hank gestures for them to move forward onto the Physics lab, peeling the stickers off his temple, “About three dozen mutants involved. It would be sooner if it weren’t…” As if he suddenly was reminded of something, Hank let out a short “Ah”, and a brief pause, “if it weren’t some … unintentional held-up with one of our finest mutants.” His eyes land on sulking Steve, only for a few seconds.
Hank said it with a proud smile on his face. It didn’t take Steve forever to recognize the man from the beach last night, who gave your daughter, very irresponsibly, Steve might add, rocket boots.
Your daughter’s father is very irresponsible too. Not even showing up when your daughter is in danger. He thinks, clenching his jaw, praying for strength that he would punch that guy in the face if he ever meets him.
Natasha and Tony exchange a glance behind Hank, failing to notice Steve and his stern expressions.
“But it must have been a huge effort, even with three dozen, to keep them silent?” Natasha jokes light-heartedly, “There’s hardly any secret in the Avengers Compound without the full staff knowing it in three days.”
Hank nods politely, holding the door for them to come through, “Well, yes. But as you are well aware, a few of our best mutants are telepathic, meaning they could plant a gag order in our heads,” Hank taps his temple with his knuckle, “We couldn’t speak to anyone else about Krakoa for three years until it’s established. Our mind forbade us to speak of it because of the gag order.”
“Masochists, and they are proud of it,” Natasha whispers to Tony in a rush.
“It is troubling. Misunderstandings and arguments have aroused based on the gag order and its implementation.” Hank walks them through the long hallway from one building to another, “But we agreed it’s for the best at that moment.”
Tony makes a face that isn’t as obvious, but Steve and Natasha could tell that’s his disapproving face.
As Hank opens another door for them, the first thing they see is a little girl playing with her toy car on a tall chair. She slides the car down from a colorful track, and the track would deliver the toy car back to her hands.
“Maddison!” Hank rushes to her side, looking up and down to see whether the girl got hurt, “What are you doing here?”
“Mommy needs to pick up something.” Maddie points at you, cheering, “Look! Mommy Mommy!” She drops her toy car to the ground, and jumps off the tall chair, running to you and hugging your thigh.
Steve stops breathing. Seeing you, well and alive in front of him, with your daughter, in a rosy-pink dress that you bought while dating him a few years back.
You look … the same.
“Get behind me, Maddie.” You tug the little girl on her arm, to have her shielded fully behind your legs. An undetectable shakiness in your voice.
Maddie peeks from behind you. She doesn’t understand where this tension is coming from, but she understands one thing: “Mommy, is that Daddy?” She raises her head and asks.
You hate to lie to your daughter. But you are not going to let her be exposed to Natasha and Tony, and most importantly, Steve.
“Christ. It’s Y/N.” Tony mutters.
“Mommy, he looks exactly like the photo you showed me.” Maddie asks in confusion, pointing towards Steve, “He looks exactly like Daddy?”
“Maddison, not now.” It takes all your willpower not to push them all out of the lab at once, “Hank, would you mind?” You glance icily at Hank, urging him to solve the problem at hand.
“Yes, of course.” Hank starts to head the other way, “I’m sorry, but we’re behind schedule. If you would come with me-”
“No one is coming anywhere until we deal with this,” Tony announces, one hand already on his wristwatch, which you know contains a small plasma canon if he activates it.
“Is she…?” Steve knows the answer to his question before he asks. The hair and the eyes are similar to his, and the nose and lips resemble yours-
“Boys,” Natasha raises her voice, “Let’s be civil, shall we?”
“How old is she?” Steve feels a lump down his throat, “is she-”
“Civil?” You let out a dry laugh, the exact opposite of amused, “Tony Fucking Stark is ready to attack when he pulls out that wristwatch. And Natasha, long time no see, the same goes for your widow bites too. Yeah, I saw the glowing blue under your sleeves. You are trying to take my child away from me in a heartbeat and call yourself civil?”
“Tony, Nat.” Steve speaks.
Two words that bring the two of them away from their weapons.
You pick Maddie up from the ground, having your back to the Avengers, protecting your daughter from their grasp, “Let’s go, Maddie. I am apparently not welcomed here.”
“Y/N!” Steve calls to your back, “Y/N, please!”
Natasha is tempted to step forward and ask you to stay and talk this out, being blocked by Hank.
“I assume it is best that you stay right where you are,” Hank says politely, though his thin body has no intention of moving.
Maddie hugs your neck, laying her head on your shoulders. Her blue eyes focusing on Steve while you walk away.
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Bingo prompt: Steve Rogers with the period cramps prompts please!!!!
Here it is, babes! Thank you so much for participating 💕💗
Period Cramps (Bingo Game)
!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!
SteveRogers x Female!Reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: fluff, periods being bitches, boyfriend goals Steve
Perks of dating a Super Soldier? Well, they are super fit and strong. Also, the stamina? Ugh, that’s a whole new category of awesome. But they also never get sick... or periods. Which means, they sometimes forget that normal people do...
“Hey doll, are you ready?” Steve’s voice traveled through the apartment. You heard him place his keys on the counter and then his heavy footsteps came down the hallway.
Hastily, you sat up on the bed and wiped the tears away. You hated being on your period. And while being reminded that you were not pregnant was a pretty nice thing every once in a while, it still sucked to be in utter pain once a month. Today, the cramps had been particularly bad, starting off with a great morning of lack of taste, and continuing with an even more torturous afternoon of finding that one position that hurt less than any other. You were exhausted, and you felt like crap.
Steve and your relationship was fairly new. Yes, he had the keys to your apartment (but that was because he watered your plants when you were away one time and insisted on having them for “emergencies”). And yes, the two of you were basically already like an old married couple (really, it was crazy how well you adapted to each other’s routines). But despite all this, he had yet to see you at the worst phase of your period. Today, however, you had dinner plans and because you were so knocked out by good old aunt flow this morning, you had totally forgotten to cancel on him.
The door to your bedroom opened carefully and not even a second later, Steve’s smiley blonde head popped through the gap. “Good evening, sweetheart.” He purred in that seductively deep voice of his, and then his full body filled the frame.
Man, you would never get tired of this. The pet names, the broad shoulders, that charming smile... But before you could gift him your love dazed eyes, another cramp squeezed your insides and pulled a whiny groan from your lips.
Steve immediately straightened up. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he approached you on the bed, his large hand encasing your face, brows dipping in concern. “Have you been crying, love?”
That was it for you. The tears welled up again, making you a sobbing mess in your boyfriend’s arms. He pulled you in and rocked you soothingly and you loved it, really, but at the same time, you were so mad at yourself for crying again. You hated crying. You hated feeling like this. You hated your freaking uterus. Why? Why?!
This all just lead to more crying and frustration, but Steve didn’t say a word. He was just there, making sure you knew that he’d give you all the time in the world to let it all out - whatever it was, because he was still clueless.
“I’m sorry.” You pulled away after a while. “I was so excited about today, and I already had an outfit ready, and I-” you cried again - god, this was exhausting. “But I got my period this morning and the cramps are-” you buried your face in your hands to silence the stupid sobs when another cramp washed over you, but there was no use. “Ow,” you mumbled when the wave of pain subsided.
Steve’s hands pulled yours away from your face carefully. His blue eyes held yours for a moment, silent empathy passing between you. “Never apologize for that, you hear me?” His thumb grazed over your forehead, the slightly heated skin relaxing your frown. “What can I do for you, honey?”
Mildly embarrassed and exhausted, you exhaled a long breath. You didn’t usually cry, most people didn't notice when you were on your period at all, but today was just a little too much of everything added on top of each other. And you were just so hungry too. All that pain had prevented you from getting up for anything but the bathroom. Food hadn’t even been on your mind until now.
“Is it okay if we stay in tonight?”
He smiled, seemingly relieved you responded well to his question. “Of course. Have you eaten anything today? Drink enough water? Tea?” He was up before you knew it but halting in anticipation of your answer. Steve still had that smile on his face, a little encouragement you didn’t know you needed.
“I haven’t had the energy to cook...”
He leaned down again, grabbing your face gently and kissing you softly. “Hey, hey. That’s okay. I’ll whip us something up. What do you want? Breakfast for dinner?”
“That sounds amazing.” You smiled at him and Steve’s eyes lit up.
-❁-
You had made your way to the kitchen when you heard pots and pans clanging down the hall. Steve was standing by the small island, his button-up sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top button undone. You just sat at the table and watched his handsome self roam through your cabinets in search of ingredients and utensils. And for the first time in the day, you were not focused on the pain in your body.
It wasn’t long before you and Steve cuddled up on the sofa after some nice pancakes and Tea, a negligible rom-com playing on the TV and lighting up the darkening room.
You had your back pressed up to Steve’s chest as you both watched the TV with little interest. His body heat proved to be perfect for your cramps as his entire body encased yours. His hand found your lower stomach almost immediately, a soothing warm hand covering the skin when it slipped beneath your sweatpants, making a content sigh escape your lips.
Steve had managed to turn this whole day upside down. And the soothing heat keeping your cramps at bay was just the cherry on top.
“Are you comfortable?” He whispered lowly behind your ear, a meaningful kiss pressed to your neck when you hummed in response.
You already had your eyes closed, it was impossible not to. All the trouble of the day had exhausted you too much. And the way Steve cared for you, made sure you were well and comfortable, adjusting pillows and blankets to find the best position for the both of you left sleep to finally take over your body.
“Sleep well, my love,” her pressed another kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment longer though. “I love you.”
...Perks of dating a super soldier? They’re very warm and cuddly. And especially Steve serves as the perfect heating pad and cuddle buddy for when you’re feeling a bit under the weather :)
**and this is just a little bonus that has nothing to do with the text above but I wrote it down first and didn’t want to keep it from you**
“I got chocolate, tampons, flowers, cheese, and magazines.”
“Cheese?”
“Well, I know you like cheese.”
“That- That’s very sweet of you, babe.”
“Oh no... please don’t cry. I can throw the cheese away. I’m sorry.”
“No, I do love cheese. No one ever brought me cheese.”
*Steve hugs you real tight while you calm down*
“Are you okay? Should we put the cheese away?”
“Yes.”
“Cuddles?”
“Yes, please.”
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Fever Pitch
pairing: steve rogersxf!reader (any race)
wc: 4.6k
summary: After an accident at a hydra base, you and Steve have to come to terms with your dire situation or face the consequences.
warnings: sex pollen, smut, oral (f receiving), swearing, stressful situation, friends to lovers
a/n: Hello! This is my (late) entry for week 3 of @the-slumberparty :) And the one I got from the generator was sex pollen!! I have never written something like this before so I hope you guys like it lol
my masterlist
The bunker is quiet as you examine the lab set-up. All the vials, chemicals, and files are labeled in Russian, so you snap some photos and send them to Bucky for translation. Somewhere in the distance, you hear gunfire, but you know Steve can handle his own. If he needs you, he’ll signal. The bunker is underground below the Hydra base you and Cap have been searching. You left the hatch open just in case you needed to get out quick. You don’t like being stuck.
“You there?” Bucky’s voice crackles through the comm in your ear.
“Yup. What am I lookin’ at, Barnes?” You flip through a few pages of a file, looking for literally anything in English.
“So this lab appears to be where they were developing different chemical weapons,” he explains, translating the labels and descriptions you’d sent him. As Bucky speaks, you find your attention being pulled to the far end of the lab desk. Beneath a pile of newspapers is a little glass vial filled with gray powder.
As you run the tube between your fingers, the powder seems to follow the heat of your skin, shimmering and practically moving.
Bucky’s voice continues to drone on and on in your ear, but you’re not listening. The sound of gunfire in the hallway above the lab sounds muted and far off. You can’t take your eyes off the glass vial in your fingers.
Something loud crashes behind you, and a second later, you’re on the ground. The vial slips from your fingers, but you don’t have time to wonder what the gray powder inside is. You don’t have time to think about the consequences of dropping it.
“Holy shit,” you grunt, trying to maneuver your hand to your gun holstered at your side. The thing that pushed you to the ground turns out to be Steve. His large body presses you into the concrete as an explosion sounds overhead. He covers you from any debris that falls through the entrance of the bunker.
Your heart pounds, but you smile at the way Steve looks down at you, blue eyes focused and intense.
“Language,” he replies, quirking an eyebrow at you. Steve’s teasing side is one that doesn’t come out often, but you love when it does. He’s always such a golden boy, perfect in every way, but when he’s giving other people a hard time, he feels so much more… real. It’s the real Steve coming out, not the version of him SHIELD wants.
“Sorry, Cap,” you say as you laugh. Once he deems it safe, Steve shifts off of you, then helps you to stand. Bucky asks for confirmation that the two of you are okay, and once you get the all-clear, you show Steve the little lab table. With the information Bucky gave you, you have a better understanding of what Hydra was working on when this base was active. As you’re showing him the chemicals, you find yourself looking for the little glass vial again.
Frowning, you check the floor around you, only to find debris and dust everywhere. There’s glass shattered beneath your boots, and when you crouch down, you find the little cork stopper. Your footprints tracked the shimmering powder across the concrete.
You stand, strangely upset about the loss of the vial. “There was this powder,” you explain, looking for more in the lab. “It was gray, and when it got close to the heat of my fingers, it was… attracted to it. It moved in the vial.” Steve crouches down and tries to examine the powder, running his fingers through it to investigate.
When you turn your attention back to the Captain, you find him on his knees, gazing up at you. Looking down at Steve is something you haven’t experienced before. The way his bright eyes shine in the dull light, the way his lips part, have your head spinning. Down on his knees in front of you, Steve looks softer. All those hard angles and sharp features look so much sweeter.
“Do you know what it was?” He asks, tilting his head.
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. Something flashes in Steve’s eyes, but it’s gone a moment later. He stands, returning to his normal towering height, and you tilt your head to keep eye contact.
Steve sucks in a breath, his large chest expanding in his tactical gear. “We should get going.”
Even though you know you need to leave, you can’t help but feel conflicted. Steve must sense your apprehension because he steps behind you and guides you to the ladder. His hands hold your waist while you climb up the rungs, and the heat of his skin on yours sends fire licking through your veins.
As Steve guides you through the base, you feel your body temperature rising. He isn’t touching you anymore, but he’s just inches away. You’re itching for the contact, for his hands to be back on you.
“Got an update?” Bucky asks, probably antsy to hear about what you’ve found. The only reason you and Steve made the trek to the base was to learn more about the Winter Soldier program.
When Steve notices that you’re not going to respond, he updates Bucky for you. “We’re good, heading out of the base now. We’ll be back at the safehouse in about an hour. I’ll give you another update then.”
Even though you’re keeping up with Steve, even though you’re doing your best to act normal, he’s still giving you sideways glances. It’s like he can tell you feel feverish, that something has changed. You can’t stop staring at him. His muscles, the way he clenches his jaw.
Your thoughts swim with images of Steve during training, Steve pulling his tactical gear on before a mission, Steve toweling off after a run.
It’s not like you’ve never thought about Steve that way… you’d be lying if you said it’s never crossed your mind. After working with Steve for the past few years, it’s practically been inevitable that you’d develop feelings for Mr. America.
But it’s never been this intense, this… desperate. It’s like your feelings have been amped up to 1,000. Every breath smells of him; everywhere you look, you see his face.
You finally make it outside and practically sprint to the car hidden in the woods near the base. Steve runs after you, catching up in an instant due to his super-soldier speed, but he doesn’t ask you what’s wrong.
By the time you’re back at the safehouse, you feel like you’re dying. Your blood is hot, coursing through your veins and pulsating between your thighs. The entire ride, you tried your best not to rub your legs together to alleviate the feeling, but you’re not sure you did a very good job.
Steve does a sweep of the safehouse, leaving you in the car. The second he shuts the door, you let out a long, low moan. The air in the car smells overwhelmingly of Steve’s cologne, woodsy but sweet. It invades your nostrils, fills your lungs, and nearly sends you over the edge.
Your fingers fly to the zipper on the back of your suit, tugging it down and pulling your arms from the sleeves. It’s not quite spring, there’s still snow on the ground, but you welcome the chill of the air on your heated skin.
By the time you have your suit around your waist, Steve gives you the signal that the safehouse is clear. You clamber out of the car and into the house, not bothering to shut the door behind you.
“Are you okay?” Steve asks as you shove your suit down your legs and kick it away from you. In your shorts and athletic t-shirt, you feel only a shred of relief from the heat. The material of your clothes is thin, made to help you regulate your temperature, but it’s not helping. Not nearly enough.
“I think I have a fever or something,” you groan, finding your way into the kitchen. The safehouse is a simple one-story home in a farming town near the base, and it’s stocked with everything you and Steve could need if you were stuck here for a prolonged period of time.
You dig through the cabinets looking for fever medication and pop a few of them, chugging a glass of water. You lean against the counter, dropping your head as you take deep breaths. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst through your chest with how fast it’s beating.
Steve’s feet appear in your vision, and you drag your eyes up his figure. He’s still in his tactical suit. It’s fitted perfectly to him, sculpted to his muscular mountain of a body. When you finally reach his eyes, concern is written all across his face. He steps closer and places a hand on your forehead.
“You’re burning up,” he whispers, letting his hand cup your jaw. You lean into his palm, loving the way his calloused skin feels against your cheek. Just having him this close, having him touch you, brings you so much relief. But it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.
You bite back a moan as his fingers brush down your jaw to your neck, feeling your pulse. “How have you not passed out yet?” he asks, furrowing his brow. “I need to call this in.” You whine at the loss of his touch when he pulls away. He comes back a moment later and holds his phone out, pressing the speaker button.
“Did you touch anything in that lab?” Bucky asks, voice tense. It’s a struggle to formulate the words. With Steve so close but not touching you, your brain feels like it’s scrambled.
“No, don’t think so,” you reply, clenching your hands into fists. Your fingernails dig crescent moons into your palms.
“Well, think harder. I need to know.” Steve watches you carefully, but you can tell he’s running through his memories in search of an answer.
“I don’t know, Bucky,” you whimper, a new wave of heat rushing to your belly. Steve steps closer again and places a hand on your arm. Goosebumps jump up on your skin. “Fuck,” you whisper.
You can tell it takes effort for Steve not to chide you about your language, but in the end, his concern for you wins out. “What about that vial?” he asks, thumb brushing up and down your arm.
“What vial is he talking about?” Bucky practically shouts.
“It was this tiny glass vial with gray powder in it,” you explain, voice tight. “I didn’t open it, but I dropped it, and it broke open.” You hear Bucky typing and a moment later, cursing under his breath.
“I’m gonna send you a picture. Tell me if this is what you saw.” Steve’s phone pings, and he shows you the photo. The gray powder looks identical to what you saw in the vial.
“Yeah, this looks the same.”
“Did it react to your touch? To heat?” Steve’s fingers curl around your arm, giving it a comforting squeeze, but all it does is make you throb all over. You want his fingers somewhere else, squeezing something else.
“Yes.”
“Shit. Sorry, I know, language, but shit.” Steve squeezes your arm harder.
“What’s wrong, Buck?” He asks, starting to pull the phone away from you.
“This stuff is bad, Steve,” Bucky says, worry seeping into his words. “If you two were in there together, you’re going to start feeling it soon too. It’s probably only delayed because the serum is fighting it off as best it can.”
“Feeling what?” Steve asks, eyes flicking between you and the phone.
Bucky pauses, probably finding a delicate way to break the news to Steve. If you didn’t feel like your heart was about to explode from your chest, you’d probably find it funny. “Aroused,” Bucky ends up saying. “So aroused that you feel like the only way you’ll survive is to… get it out of your system.”
Steve nearly drops the phone. He stares at you and releases your arm, taking a step back. You ache to feel his skin on yours again. Without it, you can barely stay standing. You sink to the floor, crouching low. The seam of your shorts digs into your panties, providing only a sliver of relief.
“Get it out of my system,” Steve states in disbelief. His voice is low and gruff, and it sends a pang of need through you. You fist the fabric of your shorts. Images of Steve’s hands gliding into the waistband, pressing down just where you need him, flood your mind.
You can practically feel his calloused fingers dipping into your panties, rubbing circles into your clit while he kisses your neck, covering you in marks. It takes everything in you not to reach down and just do it yourself.
“And what if we don’t,” Steve asks, running his hand through his hair. “Get it out of our systems, I mean.”
Bucky takes a long moment before responding. “You’ll be in too much pain,” he says. “Steve, you might survive, but I’m not so sure about–” Steve abruptly cuts off Bucky, but you already heard.
“Fuck or die,” you whisper to yourself. You laugh at the thought, scaring Steve. He watches you with wide eyes as you giggle to yourself.
Your heart is tight in your chest, constricting so much that you’re surprised it’s still beating. The feeling that’s settled in your belly, the one that makes every brush of your panties against your clit feel torturous, can only be described as need. But it’s so much more than that… how does Steve not feel it?
Steve keeps talking to Bucky, but you don’t hear any of it. Your blood is rushing in your ears, and the only thing you can think about is the way Steve’s gear is beginning to strain around his dick. Your mouth waters, more like floods, and you know that if you don’t get away from him this second, you’ll pounce.
Even though it feels like you’re going to die as you do it, you push yourself up and bolt out of the room. You stumble into a bedroom blindly, throwing the door closed behind you before you toss yourself onto the bed. The sheets are cool against your burning skin, and you waste no time tugging your shorts off and pulling your shirt up over your head.
Your clothes stick to you, but you manage to rid yourself of every scrap, leaving you naked and heaving on the bed. In an instant, your fingers are between your thighs. You’ve never been this wet before, never wanted to come so badly before. It’s pornographic, the way you’re touching yourself, but you can’t hold back.
For a second, you worry you’re being too loud, but the thought is washed away by your impending orgasm. It’s so close you can practically taste it, but as you begin to crest over the edge, it fades. Instead of satisfying you, all the orgasm accomplished was making you feel somehow worse.
You don’t even startle when you hear a knock on the door. “Are you okay?” Steve asks. You know he’s blushing; you don’t need to see him. He’s always so shy about this stuff. You don’t even know if he’s dated before. He’s a closed book.
“No,” you whimper, circling your clit with your middle finger. Normally, you’d be too sensitive after coming, but it’s like it never happened. You could easily go again, and again, and again…
“Are– are– are you decent?” You groan out a laugh. It’s adorable.
“No.” Your orgasm builds again, and this time you use your other hand to press two fingers inside of yourself. You can’t reach the spot you need to hit, but the fullness is nice. It’s still not enough. The second you fall over the edge, the pleasure is gone. No relief, just endless, relentless want.
“I’m gonna come in,” Steve tells you. For a moment you consider pulling the sheets over yourself, but the thought of being trapped under the stifling sheets makes you cry out.
The door opens, the light of the hallway flooding in, and you take in the sight of Steve. His suit is unzipped down to his waist, revealing his white shirt that is plastered to his chest. It shows off every muscle, the dip of his waist. He looks disheveled. His face is flushed, but it’s different than when he comes back from a tough workout. He looks like a predator.
The way his eyes roam over you is full of heat and danger.
“Steve,” you whimper. He’s beside the bed a second later, chest heaving as he takes you in. “Please, Steve, it’s not working,” you babble, clutching the sheets beside you. “Nothing’s helping!”
“Bucky says you could die,” he whispers, clenching his fists. He battles with something internally, though you’re not sure what. “This isn’t the way I wanted it to happen.” You don’t have time to think about it because he’s kissing you. He holds your face in his hands and kisses you lifeless, breathless. The feeling of his lips on yours is like a salve, soothing some of your achings.
He pulls away only to push his suit down the rest of the way, revealing his tented shorts. He’s back on you in a second, and your fingers find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over him. You know Steve always runs a little warm due to the serum, but he’s burning up just like you. The feeling of his skin pressed against yours is heaven, but you still need more.
“Oh my god, Steve,” you murmur as he kisses your neck. He’s being gentle, too fucking gentle considering the circumstances. “I need more, please. I need more.” Steve nods into your neck and moves his hands to your breasts.
His large hands cup you perfectly, palming you. His fingers find your nipples, and he toys with them, playing you like a fiddle as you writhe beneath him. Your hips grind against his dick, and he groans into you. It’s a sound you’ve never heard from him but one you’ve craved long before tonight.
“You’re killing me,” he moans, driving his hips against yours. You run your fingers down his back, scratching into those beautiful muscles, and pull him closer.
“I need you, Steve.” Your voice comes out a whine, but Steve knows you’re in pain. He knows how much this is hurting both of you. He kisses you again before ridding himself of his shorts and briefs.
Steve Rogers is built like a god. Like a mountain. In all his naked glory before you, he is a thing of beauty. For a moment, the noise in your head fades, and the severity of this moment comes into focus.
How long have you pined after Steve? How long have you wanted to tell him what you feel about him?
This isn’t how I wanted it to happen.
It’s not how you want it to happen either, but maybe after all of this is over, you can fix things.
“I don’t feel like I can control myself right now,” Steve tells you, bringing you back to the situation at hand. His fist is wrapped around his cock, and he pumps it slowly, though you can tell it takes effort.
“I feel the same way,” you say, attempting to comfort him. His brows are knit together with focus, but he nods.
“Do you know if there are condoms anywhere?” he asks, somehow blushing harder. You shake your head, so Steve digs through the bedside table, then the cabinet in the bathroom, but comes up with nothing.
“I get the shot, and I’m clean,” you tell him, voice tight. Pain radiates through your body, making your toes curl.
“I’m clean.” As the words pass his lips, he climbs onto the bed. He settles between your legs, sitting back on his heels as he drinks in the sight of you. Your eyes devour him right back, eating up his muscular body, following the trail of his abs to his dick. He’s big, bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before, and you shudder at the thought of how he’ll stretch you.
Your fingers grip the bed sheets, and you twitch just thinking about his dick. It sets something off in Steve; it’s like a switch flipped. He ducks his head down and takes your nipple into his mouth, one of his hands drifting down your body. His calloused skin scrapes against you, and you writhe beneath him. His fingers reach your clit, and he toys with it, tight quick circles that work you up, while his teeth graze your nipple. He nips at the skin around your breast, soothing each mark with his tongue, and the want that’s coiled in your belly seems to wind tighter.
He sinks lower, tongue tasting your skin as he descends until your legs rest on his shoulders and his lips are hovering over you. His breath is hot on your sensitive skin, and you do your best not to buck your hips.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he practically whispers before dipping down and dragging his tongue through your arousal. You burn at his words, grinding against his face. You’re past the point of being shy or embarrassed. He knows what you want. What you need.
“Steve,” you moan. The sound of his name on your lips sounds downright pornographic, and it spurs him on. He brings you right to the edge and grazes his teeth over your clit, sending you right over. This time, when you come, it feels so much better than when you’d been doing it to yourself. It only provides you a second of relief before the need returns.
Steve holds your legs apart, and his tongue darts out, licking his lower lip. You pant as you watch him sit up. He strokes his cock a few times before running the tip along your pussy. He collects your arousal, knocking your clit with his dick.
You can tell he feels conflicted. You don’t want him to regret this, to feel bad. “Stevie,” you whisper, pushing yourself up. Your body screams at you not to waste time, but this is more important. “Can I tell you something?”
He nods, searching your eyes.
“I know it might sound stupid, but I’ve had a crush on you for forever,” you admit, trying not to drop his gaze. His lips part as he sucks in a breath. “I didn’t know how to tell you, and I didn’t want to live with you rejecting me.”
He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he whispers. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.” You grin at his words and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his abdomen.
“This isn’t how I wanted any of this to happen,” you say, echoing his earlier statement. “But I know you’ll take care of me. You’ll keep me safe. I wouldn’t want anyone else here with me.” Steve’s expression softens, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head.
“That’s right,” he says, guiding you to lie back down. “I’m gonna take real good care of you.” His words take on a possessive growl as he lines himself up with your pussy. He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you’re ready.
“Please, Steve, please,” you beg. He pushes into you in one brutal thrust, stretching you around his length. You let out a guttural moan, and he starts moving.
“Shit,” he grunts through gritted teeth. “You’re so tight, baby.”
“Language,” you moan, earning you a slap to your inner thigh. Steve’s pace is punishing, his thrusts deep, and you feel him everywhere. His hands grip your hips, your breasts, your legs, anywhere he can get his hands on.
His focus is entirely on you, on bringing you right up to your peak. You’re so sensitive that it doesn’t take much to send you over the edge. Steve moans when you come and repositions you so your face is in the mattress and your ass is in the air.
When he pushes into you again, you feel him even deeper this time. The slam of his hips against your ass, his fingers digging into your hips, it’s almost too much. You crest again, chanting Steve’s name into the sheets.
It feels like it lasts forever, but you can’t get enough. Steve whispers words of encouragement to you, but they’re laced with a filth you hadn’t expected from him.
Doing so good for me, baby. Squeezing me so tight. You look so perfect taking my dick.
It’s only after you’ve come down from your 6th orgasm, does your fever start to break. Steve has only come twice (only! You have no idea how he’s been able to keep going… must be the serum), but you can tell he’s getting worn out.
At some point, he’d pulled you to the edge of the bed so he could stand between your legs. Your ankles are hooked around his neck now, and you’re a puddle in his hands.
His fingers come up to touch your face, and he smiles. “Your fever is gone,” he tells you, slowly thrusting inside of you. “How do you feel?” You’re not sure you’ll even be able to speak, but you try anyways.
“So good,” you whisper. “So good, Stevie.” He leans down, bending you in half, and kisses you softly. He tugs your lower lip between his teeth before pulling back a bit.
“Perfect.” He stays where he is with you bent in half and picks up his pace. Still, you can tell he’s already close to finishing again. He comes on a low groan that resonates through your whole body. You tilt your head up to kiss him again, and finally, that panicky need fades.
Steve pulls out of you gently, and you drop your head onto the mattress. Your body tingles all over, and you feel like you’re about to float away until you feel his tongue teasing your clit.
“Stevie,” you whimper while you try and fail to wiggle away.
“Please,” he whispers against your pussy. “You can give me another one, can’t you, baby? For me, please?” He licks your sensitive flesh with each word, begging you for just one more. And even though you’re sensitive, you don’t want to say no.
Your fingers release the sheets and trail down to Steve’s head, where you tangle them in his hair. He understands what you’re asking. His tongue dips lower, licking up where his cum is leaking out of you and he pushes it back inside. He tastes every inch of you, soothing the soreness that is slowly starting to creep in. Your fingers tug his hair, guiding him to where you need him most, and he lets you.
The noises Steve makes as he eats you out are what put you over the edge one final time, and he laps it up eagerly. He presses kisses to the insides of your thighs before standing. You’re barely conscious as he carries you into the other bedroom and cleans you up.
As you’re beginning to fall asleep and he’s tucking you in, you hear his whispered words. “I’ll always be here to keep you safe. I’ll always take care of you.” Steve climbs into the bed and pulls you to his chest. He kisses your forehead, and you succumb to the warmth of sleep.
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#jane’s writing#fever pitch#the-slumberparty#writing challenge#steve rogers#smut.#sex pollen#captain america#steve rogers au#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fluff#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fic#marvel fic#captain america fanfiction#steve rogers marvel marvel#captain america x reader#captain america x you#fem!reader#marvel fanfiction
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Best Friends on paper 📮
Summary: You've been matched up with a pen pal through a website, but what is merely an outlet for you and a confidant to tell your secrets to, is something completely different for him.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader (hinted at short!Reader too)
(No use of descriptive words for Reader's appearance. If you do stumble across one, please let me know and I'll immediately find a more inclusive alternative)
Warnings: 18+, non-con (touching, fingering), kidnapping of sorts, deranged Steve Rogers, manipulation, forced relationship, obsession and obsessive baheviour
Word count: 2k
Author's note: My second entry for @the-slumberparty's BINGO challenge! The squares I filled this time are "Pen pals", "Campfire", "Beach day" and "Brainwashing"
We love us some deranged, obsessed Steve Rogers and when I read the Pen Pal square, I knew we needed Mister Old-fashioned to make an appearance! Have fun reading this one ;D
...
“You said you loved me. You did. Stop struggling,” Steve grunts into you ear, his hand firmly planted over your mouth as he drags your flailing form further away from your group of friends.
Your kicking and muffled protests don't deter him, his hulking frame dwarfing yours easily, allowing him to effortlessly man-handle you as he pleases.
“Shhh, sweetheart. It's just me, just Steve. I'm your friend, remember?” the man husks, his hot breath dampening the back of your neck.
Your shake your head as best as you can, your mind spinning with the disorientating events crashing down on your.
“You're not my friend,” you try to say, but it only comes out as stifled mumbling from behind the gigantic paw covering up half your face to keep you quiet.
This isn't Steve, it can't be. Steve is nice, sweet. He'd been matched to you on a random pen pal website you signed up on out of boredom, the two of you hitting it off quickly and building a nice bond through the letters you sent each other regularly.
It's a little old-timey, but you enjoyed writing Steve letters. He even included a picture of himself in one of them and you did the same in return.
But this brute behind you, that is not the man from the picture.
Steve is short, a little skinny, and his hair has a pretty shade of blond and his smile is infectious.
The man stealing you away from the roaring fire burning by the shore, your friends still scattered around it in small groups, is not short or skinny.
He is dragging your jerking body through the sand, your feet uselessly slipping on the little grains of sand while you watch the camp fire grow smaller, the flickering flames no longer illuminating the ground around you, its warmth too far to comfort you.
Before you know what is happening, you're hauled up a slippery dune, now finally out of sight for all your friends or any by-passers as you're shoved down the other side.
There, in between dunes and bushes, sits a picnic blanket, small lanterns standing on two corners of it that light up the space.
“It's me, Steve. I did all this for you. You always said you wanted to have a picnic by the beach and spend the night outside looking at the stars. I remember it. You said it in one of your first letters you sent to me,” the man babbles, his tone so urgent he sounds almost possessed.
His words are what concerns you though, not how he says them. Because it's the truth. You'd told your pen pal Steve about wanting to spend a night at the beach to watch the stars, had laid out the whole romantic fantasy you dreamed of on lonely nights.
You reach the blanket and the hand on your face loosens. You're spun around to face your kidnapper and when you instinctively lift your head to stare up at the man's face, your heart sinks.
“Hi, sweetheart. I knew you'd recognise me,” Steve says with a wide smile, his white teeth glinting in the low light of the lanterns around you.
You're petrified. This man does look like Steve. But he's bigger, stronger. And this big, scary man knows all your deepest secrets and desires.
You've told Steve everything, because what could be the harm in it? He's always been states away, just a picture you keep in your desk drawer and ink-soaked pieces of paper. You never thought there would be any harm in confiding in him.
Well, you were wrong.
“You- You..” stammer and stare up at him. “You look different.”
Steve grins and shrugs as if he didn't look like he could easily break you in half as opposed to the skinny boy he's sent you a picture of.
“You too. Better, so much better in person. God, you're beautiful. Come here,” he says and without warning moves his hands from your arms where he was holding you still to your face and swoops in for a forceful kiss.
You let out a startled sound and jerk your hands up to push at him, but he doesn't budge, hips lips firmly pressed to yours, tongue poking at them as he tries to gain entrance.
Your muffled protests make him stop eventually, his face pulled into a frown as he pulls his head away to peer down at you.
“What is wrong? You said you loved me, sweetheart. I came all the way to surprise you, I prepared this night. It needs to be perfect, so play along! It's your fantasy after all,” he says, an edge to his voice as he scowls down at you.
“I- I... Steve, I don't love you, I don't even know you, I-”
“Stop! You know me, we've been writing letters for months. I know what you like and what you dream of for your future. I know your favourite food and colour. I said I love you and you said it back! You wrote it in our letters, you did!” Steve shouts, his face reddening with agitation.
You take a step back, now positively terrified of the deranged man before you. How could he be the same person who's been writing you fro almost a year now?
“Sit down, come on, sit. We're going to enjoy this night, I made it perfect for you,” he says, quieter now, but still obviously displeased by your resistance.
Not daring to disobey and upset this crazy man, you let Steve push you down on the blanket. He sits down next to you and then forces you to recline into a laying position. He lies down as well and then grabs your hand, his fingers forcing your clenched ones apart to hold them.
You lie there, heart beating wildly and wide eyes staring at the night sky, the stars twinkling back at you as they watch the situation unfold.
“Isn't this nice? Good thing the sky is clear. I've been waiting for the weather to clear up and tonight is just perfect for our first night together. The first of many,” Steve swoons beside you, his deep voice floating around you.
Your hand hangs limply in his as you try to get a grip on your situation.
All you wanted was to spend a day at the beach with your friends. You had brought food and snacks for the whole day and enough wood to keep your camp fire going through the night.
But that is forgotten now, your friends too far away to help or hear you and this psycho beside you instead of someone else, someone you knew.
“You're so beautiful, baby. I looked at your picture every day, wondering how soft your skin would be under my fingertips, what you would smell like, taste like...” Steve rumbles beside you, his head turned to look at you, warm breath ghosting over your cheek.
You swallow, stiff as a board and terrified of the meaning of his words.
“Will you let me find out, sweetheart? You will, won't you? I know you want to,” he says, his hand letting go of yours as he shifts up onto his elbow to stare down at you.
When you don't answer, too scared to say no and not wanting to say yes, he lets out a huff.
“Playing hard to get? Let me convince you...”
You don't have time to react, Steve's frame moving with a speed that should be impossible for someone so big, slotting between your legs with a shove of his hips.
He widens his thighs as he kneels between yours, pushing them further apart when you jerk away and try to close them.
“No! Steve, stop. No, no, no-” You start to chant, hands slapping at every bit of him that you can reach as some sort of survival instinct kicks in.
“Stop pretending you don't want this! I know everything about you, you told me. I know you want this, I know, I know, I know,” he barks, repeating himself over and over as if he's trying to convince you.
Grabbing your flailing hands in one of his, he gets to work on ripping off your swim clothes, the thin fabric stretching and ripping underneath his violent hand until it's gone and your body is bared to his eyes.
“Pleeease, no,” you sob out, legs kicking on either side of his, hands fighting in his grip to cover yourself, but he doesn't budge.
“Shhhh, you'll like it, sweetheart. I'm good at this, I promise,” he shushes you, his words of affirmation doing nothing to quell the horror and shame of being naked and at the mercy of this lunatic.
You squeak when he reaches down and easily finds your clit, spit-wet finger getting to work and drawing tight circles around the little nub while you squirm and whine beneath him.
But there's no getting away and you have no choice but to endure his patient rubbing and circling, forced to witness your body's surrender that comes in the form of thick slick collecting at your entrance.
Shame boils hot in your gut and when Steve lets go of your hands in favour of kneading your breasts, you hide behind your sweaty palms. You can't look at him, you won't.
“There we go, your body knows what you need, baby. Look at that pretty little pussy getting nice and wet for me,” Steve mumbles appraisingly, finger abandoning your clit in favour of exploring further down.
He pushes one thick finger inside your pussy, the digit easily slipping in. It's quickly followed by another and he twists his hand to rest the heel of it on your clit.
“So tight, hmm. Made for me,” Steve mumbles to himself, eyes fixated on where he's sinking his digits into you.
He starts fingering you, fingers pushing in and out of you, his hand grinding into your clit harder and harder the faster he goes.
You can't hide the noises he pulls from you, wet squelching and helpless moans alike ringing out around you.
The familiar hot tension in your gut rises and your hands slap down on the blanket beside you, fingers fisting the fabric when Steve angles his fingers just so, rubbing that spot inside you that sends tingles of pleasure shooting down your legs and up your back.
“Come on, come for me. I know you need it, your little pussy is clenching down on my big fingers. Feels good, doesn't it?” he eggs you on, hand speeding up and finally tipping you over that edge.
“There we go, yes! Good girl,” Steve exclaims triumphantly as he works you through your orgasm, watching your trembling limbs with a deranged kind of satisfaction.
He pulls his fingers out of you with a wet sound and lifts them to his mouth. You watch through half-lidded eyes how he opens his mouth and sucks your slick from his fingers with a pleasured moan, his own eyes falling shut.
“Knew you'd taste good, baby. So good. I need more, baby. I'm sorry, I can't help it, I just need more,” he rambles, hastily shifting between your limp legs until his face is level with your sensitive pussy, slick still leaking from the twitching opening.
“Just a taste...” he grunts before sticking out his tongue and dragging it across the length of your cunt with an obscene moan.
You jerk away when he touches your clit, but his hands swiftly wrap around your thighs, keeping your core anchored to his face.
Whines and breathless gasps escape you as you writhe in his hold, your head growing foggy with the pleasure forced on you.
When your second orgasm rushes through you in a shuddering wave and Steve keeps going on, you limply resign yourself to a long night of forced pleasure. With him, there's no getting away.
Never.
After all, he knows everything about you.
...
There we go, he's got her in his clutches now-
Here's my updated Bingo card!
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers fic#steve rogers one shot#writing challenge#bingo challenge#the slumberparty bingo challenge
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mdni 18+! seriously pls go away if ur under 18! fall works for every day of october! some scary, some cozy, and almost always smutty. probably shouldn’t have called this ‘kinktober’ as not every day will be a kink, yolo. a lot of works will include ddlg themes, size kink, daddy kink, fem!reader and hyper feminine themes. you are responsible for your own media consumption. all pieces will have warnings at the beginning of their works. wishing you all the spookiest, ghoulish october ever! 🙀
masterlist ! navigation ! support my work
01. The Lion and The Lamb, Part One. (vampire!king!eddie munson x princess!reader)
02. Subdrop (dom!steve harrington x sub!reader)
03. Sapphic Age Gap (MILF!Nancy Wheeler x reader)
04. Trick or Treat (Daddy!Bucky Barnes x Little!reader) [plot has changed to a halloween party!]
05. First time parents (Dad!Steve Harrington x Mum!reader)
06. Sugar Daddy (CEO!Steve Rogers x reader)
07. Size Kink (Daddy!Ari Levinson x reader)
08. Overstimulation (Bodyguard!James Potter x Princess!reader)
09. Age Gap (DILF!Joel Miller x reader)
10. Dacryphilia (Daryl Dixon x younger!reader)
11. Hot cocoa and kisses (Daddy!Ari Levinson x Little!reader)
12. Mommy Kink (Nancy Wheeler x reader)
13. Daddy Kink (Daryl Dixon x reader)
14. Dry Humping (Eddie Munson x reader)
15. The Lion and The Lamb, Part Two. (Vampire!King!Eddie Munson x Princess!reader)
16. Stockholm Syndrome (dark!rick Grimes x reader)
17. Make-up sex (Remus Lupin x reader)
18. Cock Warming (Ron Weasley x reader)
19. A/B/O (Alpha!Steve Harrington x reader)
20. Babysitter (Joel Miller x reader)
21. Serial Killers (Ghostface!Steve Harrington x Ghostface!Eddie Munson x reader)
22. Safe Word (Steve Harrington x crybaby!reader)
23. Body Worship (Joel Miller x reader)
24. On The Run (Psycho!Eddie Munson x Psycho!reader)
25. Dumbification (Daryl Dixon x crybaby!reader)
26. Stepbrother (Stepbrother!Peter Parker x Stepsister!reader)
27. Thigh Riding (Dom!Remus Lupin x Sub!reader)
28. Brat Taming (Dom!Eddie x Sub!reader)
29. Refrigerator light (Dad!Steve Harrington x Mum!reader)
30. Pet Play (Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!reader)
31. The Lion and The Lamb, Part Three. (Vampire!King!Eddie x Princess!reader)
#<3 eddie munson#<3 steve harrington#<3 ari levinson#<3 steve rogers#a/b/o#dark! :0#<3 bucky barnes#multiple characters#<3 remus lupin#<3 james potter#<3 nancy wheeler#<3 peter parker#kinktober#smut#kinktober smut#stranger things smut#steve harrington smut#october writing challenge#eddie munson smut#nancy wheeler smut#ari levinson smut#little!reader#crybaby!reader#tw: daddy kink#vampire!eddie#but daddy i love him#age gap smut#abby’s kinktober !#<3 rick grimes
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Time and Tines (1/3)
Plans (see series)
Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader
for @sweeterthanthis's Bittersweet Symphony Writing Challenge
Can’t change the way we are,
One kiss away from killing.
—Bishop Briggs, River
Summary: Steve meets the mysterious woman staring at him from across the room.
Warnings for vague injuries, mention of needles, manipulation/brainwashing, SEMI-DARK fic (like I've read worse but it ain't sunny, folks). MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. This work has heavy themes unsuitable for minors. There is plenty else to read on my Light Masterlist if this is not your cup of tea! WC 3.6k
The event isn’t overly loud, but the lights are lower and he is surrounded by people. Steve isn’t fond of crowds, not when he’s not working, not when the event is actually meant to be fun for him. He isn’t Captain America right now. He isn’t the center of attention. He isn’t bothering to mingle. Instead, he’s chosen to humor a long-winded medical rant from the Avenger’s resident doctor of the past half-year.
Salvatore Avani enlightens Steve on several ways he can assess and replicate Erskine’s serum without taking a drop of any super soldier’s blood. It would be an interesting project if Steve hadn’t heard it all before, over and over, from every hopeful doctor and scientist to cross his path. At least Steve gets to be out of his suit for a while and…in another suit, though this one is significantly more forgiving to his stance and skin.
“You see, Captain, your strength can be wielded for so much more than fighting. It could give safety and security to people working unmechanizable jobs,” Dr. Avani points out.
“Not sure that’s a word, sir, but I understand.” Steve swirls whisky around in his tumbler, ice long melted, and wishes—not for the first time—that alcohol still had an effect on him. “A certain amount of modernization does protect those same workers from danger…and no one had to be dosed with anything,” he concludes before emptying the glass in hand.
As Avani opens his mouth to retort, a weight lands on Steve’s shoulder.
“Sorry, Doc,” Bucky interrupts, “just a quick word.”
“Of course, gentlemen.” The doctor turns back around to the bar to order himself another cocktail.
Bucky leans to whisper in Steve’s ear.
“So, punk, we got a situation at three o’clock.”
His whole body tenses, which doesn’t look all that different because Steve has excellent posture, but he deposits the finished glass on the counter and looks over his right shoulder past his friend.
Eyes. Intense and focused eyes meet his before darting down. A few people meander in the space between but you’re all Steve can see for a long moment.
“There it is,” Bucky mutters in recognition.
“Did you just make me look at a dame across the room?” Steve runs a hand over his freshly shaven law and hisses. “Jerk.”
“Uh, that dame’s been staring at you for a solid twenty minutes, but you weren’t noticing. You’re welcome.”
Steve lowers his head, suppressing a grin as best he can and glancing again to his right.
You’ve turned away. You’re fiddling with a glass of clear, bubbly liquid. Vodka soda? Gin and tonic? Those are Steve’s first guesses, but he can’t tell which since both lemon and lime wedges float above the ice.
“Two of whatever she is having,” Bucky asks the bartender helpfully, clapping a pat of encouragement on Steve’s back.
The man behind the bar gives a quizzical look and then shrugs.
Buck winks at him as Steve heads for your high-top table. No one else stands around you. No rings on the hand beside your drink. No way you don’t know he’s coming over even with your eyes down.
“Hi, mind if I join you?”
You smile without looking up. “Only if you brought gifts.” Your voice is small, a little shyer than Steve would expect from someone brazen enough to watch him that long from afar, but he sets his offering on the table anyway.
“I do,” he replies softly, matching your tone, “although what it is is a mystery to me.”
Still smiling, you drain your original glass quickly and confess, “Sierra Mist.”
Steve sucks air through pearly white teeth. “Yikes. More of a 7-Up man myself.”
“Go figure. Captain America has brand loyalty.”
He fails to stop the burst of laughter punched from his chest. It doesn’t scare you though. He’s actually pleased it seems to relax you. He sets his own hand on the table approximately an inch from yours.
“Touché.”
A faint tremor rolls through that hand but stops after you make a fist and release it.
Steve just starts saying random things that come to mind, and shockingly, it works.
Conversation flows for while as he notices that your dress straps don’t stay put very well and there is a barely visible seam at your hairline. Why you would need to wear a wig, he has no idea. He finds himself almost compelled to say your natural hair is perfect, just like you.
And this is why Steve doesn’t let himself out much.
During one comment regarding the other guests, he sneaks a peek over at Bucky—still beside Avani—and is flashed a thumbs up which he immediately hopes you did not see.
Chatting continues.
Steve isn’t a good flirt, but it seems he’s getting lucky with little lines tonight. He’s willing to push his luck.
“Well, after all this sweetness, maybe we should dance off some energy.” Yet sugar, like alcohol, has no discernible effect on Steve Rogers.
“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I’m a miserable dancer.” You lift your bejeweled clutch up alongside your lemon-lime soda. “Besides how would I carry it all?”
“Well, if they’d make dresses with fuller skirts like they used to,” Steve teases, pushing his half-full glass aside, “you wouldn’t have that problem. The world regressed that way. Real shame.”
“Not a fan of form-fitting gowns?” you cock your head with wide eyes.
Steve’s gaze snaps to his shoes, hoping to choke off the heat rising in his cheeks. It only chokes his words. “Oh, oh god, no. They’re lovely. I meant, ya know, pockets and…I just—I didn’t want anything to stop you.“
“Me neither.”
You take him in with warm assessment and one last evaluation of the room, tucking your lip between your teeth briefly. “You’re in luck,” you add with a laugh. “I’m about to blow your mind, Captain.”
He watches you open the clasp, fish around inside the tiny bag—barely an envelope, really, but Steve learned from Natasha that ladies can hold a scary amount in those things,— and pull out a silvery length like a party trick from the minuscule confines. The new strap allows you to toss the purse over your shoulder.
You present the transformation like it’s a superpower.
“Nifty,” Steve coos.
You nod an acceptance of his awe. “I am nothing if not prepared.”
“And now—“ he offers his hand again “—out of excuses. Bucky tells me I am ‘a sight to behold’ and not in a good way. Shall we prove him right in solidarity?”
You head to the open floor, guided by Steve’s lead. “Not gonna try to prove him wrong?”
He swings you around to face him. “How would I always win as Cap if I bet like that?”
You hum while Steve settles a hand over the satin at your waist. “Picking your battles, huh?” Free and delicate hands land at his shoulders before one smooths down his sleeve, your eyes never leaving his. “And I’m a fight waiting to happen?”
He gets lost for a few bars until he shows his true colors and winces.
“Well, my toes are fighting with yours, clearly.”
But you simply laugh.
Steve’s brain turns over the steps and his apologies and then finally lands on a good line way after the fact. “Or, no, wait, I’ve got it now.” He squares his shoulders a little more and deepens his voice, comically.
“You’re worth fighting for.”
The snort huffed in his face is perfect, the grin that splits your painted lips over shiny white teeth blinding and well worth his efforts.
“Oh wow. See!” He earns a featherlight slap to the chest. “You do have your charming moments, Captain Rogers.”
“Steve, please—“ he fakes leading you off the floor “—and could we go repeat that in front of—“
“—the extremely grumpy man gripping a beer bottle?” Your sights land across the room toward the bar. “I don’t know, Steve. Your critic looks pretty…something.”
Steve frowns when he sees Bucky. As his friend speaks with Dr. Avani, Bucky’s face pinches solid as stone, overly serious beside the doctor’s casual body language. Buck indeed looks pissed for no reason.
Steve squints in apology. “He’s not—that’s just—I promise he’s not like that—“
Where’s that teasing joy from a minute ago?
He contemplates that still when your hands release him, and his focus snaps back.
“I need to use the ladies’ room anyway,” you shrug, rubbing a palm up and down your bare arm.
“And then fireworks?” Steve inserts hopefully, almost removing his suit jacket right then to drape over your shoulders. He sounds like an excited schoolboy, and he’s again glad that Bucky is far enough away not to know how obvious he’s being.
You smile, a graceful tug at the dark, matte lipstick sculpted over your full—Rogers. Then a little nod is all you offer before turning to the hall, bag bouncing at your hip on its magic chain.
Steve watches you go, meandering over to Bucky while glancing in your last known direction, until his friend grunts to get his attention.
Avani is gone, but Buck’s face remains sour.
“What on earth did Doc say? Some intel for a mission?” Steve’s only half-curious and fully-distracted though.
His friend just waves off the mood. “Where’s your girl?”
“She’s not…” Steve shakes his head.
“Fine. Where’s your girl for the night?” Bucky raises one eyebrow.
“You know that sounds even worse now than it did back then, right?”
“Well?” Bucky looks around inquisitively.
“Powder her nose—” Steve smirks with rosy cheeks “—then watching the light show.”
He gets a solid smack between his shoulders and a proud nod.
Steve tries to remain patient, he really does, but after a few minutes and nearly every guest settled into their own viewing spot across the long balcony, he checks back over his shoulder.
Nothing.
He excuses himself from Bucky’s side and wanders toward the hallway.
Yes, he knows he’ll look too interested and a bit stalker-esque, but he doesn’t want to miss the show—he doesn’t want you to miss the show with him. There’s gonna be this beautiful display in the sky and you’ll be engrossed enough that he can just look at the changing colors glow across your…
What?!
Around one corner of the wall, Steve sees a foot, one shiny, brown men’s dress shoe, and then another. Someone’s kneeling—shaking if rolling toes are any indication—and then there you are standing over him.
“Doctor Avani?” Steve croaks, watching you raise a syringe and needle high over the man’s head.
You ignore Steve’s arrival.
The doctor’s eyes don’t break from you as he shrieks, “Captain, she’s mad. She—“
“How dare you? Bastard,” you bite out, heaving your weapon at the doctor’s exposed throat as Steve lunges forward.
It punctures the thick, luxurious navy fabric of Steve’s suit, and he feels the slight swelling pressure of liquid entering his forearm.
You release your grip, eyes wild and teeth bared. Gone is the sweet and serene woman with whom he shared a drink and danced.
The syringe stays lodged in Steve’s flesh as he pushes the doctor aside to shield him, but it’s too late for you.
Bucky followed behind him and now wraps your arms behind your back while you struggle to inch toward Avani, spitting insults.
“What was it?” Bucky demands. “What’s in there? What poison?”
Steve rips the needle out, checking it for any clues.
With a scowl, your fierce gaze stays on the doctor.
“Ask him. It’s his brand of suffering.”
Steve watches behind the two-way mirror for a while, deciding how to approach you. After chatting with you for the better part of an hour at the event, he still knows absolutely nothing about you. Every single piece of your preliminary file is news to him. He has to start from scratch, which is, ironically, what you are trying to do to the seam of your wig when he finally enters the interrogation room.
“Tea or water?” Steve sets down the cups.
You stop fidgeting for a beat. “Water is fine. Thank you.”
Polite. You stabbed him with a needle, injected him with an unknown substance, and you’re polite about it? He doesn’t understand the nonchalance. If you meant to kill Dr. Avani, then why aren’t you upset that you failed?
With your hands cuffed and the chain laced through a handlebar built into the table, it’s an awkward strain on your neck. You shove your shoulder high and pulse your head back and forth. Your wrists are thin, thin enough that one good, hard pull might actually snap one.
Polite and uncomfortable. Steve figures showing some courtesy might loosen your tongue.
He unlocks the cuffs and places the water in easy reach, keeping the tea for himself.
He sits and you sip. It’s peaceful when it shouldn’t be.
Avani has no clue who you are or what you want, but Steve couldn’t get many answers during the chaos that ensued after your attack. His own heart rate skyrocketed for a few minutes before normalizing. Otherwise, he’s fine.
He tilts the tea in your direction.
“Here’s hoping you didn’t waste truth serum on me,” he cheers. “Might be the only drug completely useless both after and before Erskine’s formula.”
You’re amused, a smirk lifting fading, dark lips. “Ah yes. Good, honest Captain America.”
“To a fault.”
“No.” Your seriousness stops him cold, and Steve’s smile fades. “It’s not a fault. You’re just rare.”
You value honesty. He can work with that.
“Is that why you chose a drug specifically for the doctor? You didn’t want to harm anyone else, even by accident?”
That shuts you down instead. Steve’s jumped too far, too fast. He’s not allowed to use the same easy tone as before this mess. Maybe he should have found some 7Up…
Silence descends until broken by your heavy swallows of water.
You’re staring down at your reflection in the table’s surface.
“I love stainless steel,” you mutter to no one in particular. “It’s like diffusion. I almost look normal.”
“You mean because you look different?” Steve pulls out your ID found in that small purse. “Why don’t you look ‘normal?’”
You shrug, finally dislodging the precarious strap and it dangles down your arm. “Lost weight.”
“And the hair?”
He was right. Your natural hair in the photo is beautiful. Why the hell are you wearing a wig? If it were obscuring your identity, he imagines you would know not to carry around a real ID.
“Time” is your only answer.
You’re skirting around the truth, lying by omission, waiting for the exact right questions which Steve doesn’t know yet, so he asks something for peace of mind, something that will tell him how long to play this game. “Are you gonna be honest with me?”
Your answer comes easily enough. “Are you gonna be helpful to me?”
Simple. Straightforward. Cutting. It’s said with sorrowful eyes.
He can’t promise anything when he doesn’t know why. “If your purpose is to kill a man then, no, I can’t help you with that.”
Your empty cup lands on the table with a light tonk.
“Maybe I’ll wait until someone who can help walks through that door.”
“In this situation, I believe I’m what’s known as the ‘good cop,’” Steve sighs. “Don’t think you want to dance with the ‘bad cop.’ He’s pretty annoyed he didn’t peg you for an assailant first.”
Nothing about your demeanor changes, not a flinch, not a blink. “Good thing I don’t want to dance with him.”
“He’s not much of a talker either. I’d be a better—“
“I didn’t say I’d talk to him either.”
Steve leans on his elbows, splaying wide across the table. “Just tell me your story. I am here to listen.”
“That makes this sound like a first date.”
“Bucky would likely agree—“ he snorts “—and he’d make a point to say this is going about as well as any date I’ve been on this century. Please,” Steve tries again, “ talk to me.”
There’s a long pause. Your intense gaze remains steady. Whatever your reasons, they don’t strain your moral fortitude. You are a believer, faithful to this unknown cause.
Carefully, quietly, you respond. “It’s not my story to tell. Ask your doctor.”
“If it’s not your story, where are the others? Can they tell it? Are they alive?”
Steve is more perceptive than you counted on judging by your slight head shake.
You flop yourself backward in the seat.
Steve was right. It’s not a what you act for, it’s a who. And they are dead.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says earnestly.
This—that simple sentiment—gets the greatest reaction so far. Your lip twitches, and you shimmy against the hard chair. You scratch at your wig again, before your focus returns to the table. There are tears welling in your eyes.
No one has said that before now, he realizes. How long has it been since they passed? Why are you the only mourner? Why aren’t you moving on?
Suddenly, irritation stirs in Steve, and he can’t believe how stubborn you’re being when he is your best option. He is the only one that will have this soft spot for you, the only one who truly wants to help because he truly wants to know why.
“So you’re avenging,” he bursts, tossing his arms out, dramatically looking around the bland room.
Protocol dictated they take you to the nearest precinct for questioning. Only if you were enhanced, only if you had special abilities would you be transported all the way to the compound. So on his night off, while attending a party that actually entertained him for once, you’ve shown up with a syringe that doesn’t do anything and made him miss the fireworks. You’ve made him lose time being content, a rare gift in his line of work.
Steve is frustrated, to say the least. He stands to pace his side of the table.
“Avenging, huh? Gosh, I wish I knew anything about that… anyone in this building even… wherever will we find someone who understands?”
“You don’t do sarcasm very much, do you?” you snip, energy level remaining low compared to his spiked bluster. “I’d like to tell ‘bad cop’ what a terrible dancer you are now. He’s not going to be surprised you made me cry, is he? That’s probably normal, too.”
“Surprised? No.” Steve knocks on the mirror, sick of playing, sick of being wrong, sick of choosing unwisely. “How could he be when he’s been listening this whole time?”
You’re trapped, but you aren’t acting like a caged animal. Something is…off, and Steve realizes he’s too close to the situation—ridiculous as that may be—after just two hours of knowing you. His best friend will have better luck.
Bucky opens the door a few seconds later, armed to the teeth as an intimidation tactic.
It’s disconcerting that your expression brightens once a man sporting three guns and—counting the hidden few—eight knives enters the room. That’s got Steve’s attention.
“So she’s giving you trouble?” Bucky mutters.
He’s grateful Buck doesn’t go the ‘you sure can pick ‘em, Rogers’ or ‘better luck next millennium’ route. Steve shakes his head.
You itch at your wig, face twisted, and glance up at Steve.
“May I take this off?”
Still polite. The niceties are actually making his blood boil at this point because he does not get it yet.
“Fine,” he snaps, rolling his eyes when Bucky purses his lips at Steve’s tone.
“Listen, doll, I think the best course of action is to let you stew in here for a while. When you’re ready to tell us what you know, then—“
“Oh, I can tell you what I know now,” you say casually, pulling out bobby pin after bobby pin to tuck between your teeth. “I know the protocol for a low-level threat like myself is the nearest local law enforcement facility, I know that—due to an unfortunate instance of food poisoning from a birthday cake earlier today—most of this precinct is empty. I know that all three of you would prefer to incapacitate your targets rather than kill them.”
You set the little pile of pins down on the table by your undone chain, pulling a hair comb from the back of your wig to finally release it.
“There’s only two of us here,” Steve says in confusion.
“No.” You point the forked hair comb at Bucky and push yourself out of the chair. “Winter’s in there.”
Before the words can even register, you slam the tines of the tuning fork against the edge of the steel table. The noise is piercing and specific.
Steve covers his ears, but Bucky doesn’t move. He can’t turn away from you.
“Restrain him,” you order, “and get me out of here.”
“Buck, wait—“
The vibranium arm threatens to crush Steve’s windpipe as the force slides him up the mirrored wall.
The Winter Soldier’s cold, vacant grey eyes watch as Steve’s vision fades to black, and Steve wonders how the hell he could be so wrong.
Then it’s quiet and he wonders no more.
A/N: This story is a doozy, gang, but I promise, explanations are ahead!
[Next Part] [preview]
Taglist (please let me know if you want added or removed):
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @darsynia
[Main Masterlist]
#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#villain!reader#bittersweet symphony writing challenge#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers x you#steve rogers angst#winter soldier bucky barnes#captain america fanfiction#captain america x you#captain america x reader#captain america angst#time and tines
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I love you 3000 writing bonanza!
I’ve hit 3000 followers!!!
Now if you remember a while ago I asked how you guys would like to celebrate and this is what I’ve come up with! If you remember my 2.5k Followers Writing Challenge and Exchange its kinda similar to that but I’ve made some improvements!
What is going to happen is I am going to open up my askbox/dms for requests!
To make this manageable and allow me to complete as many as possible I will only be accepting requests in these following forms:
1) A question about a character or series
For example: How would X characters feel about Y character doing XYZ?
2) A What If…. For one of my series
For example: What If the character for X series met 10 years prior
3) A request using a maximum of 3 of the prompts below (the list is hella long so I’ve put it below the cut!)
For Example: Ari Levinson / Mob AU / You won’t get away so easy
If I receive a request that does not fall into one of these three categories then I will not fulfill it!
And because I like for everyone to be able to get involved if you yourself are a writer/want to give writing a go and you like any of the below prompts feel free to use them (the max of 3 doesn’t apply to you guys) all I ask is that you tag me, use the hashtag Niamh Loves You 3000, use appropriate warnings and let me know which ones you’re using so I can keep my eye out!
If you are writing a fic using the below prompts I ask you to follow these rules:
No sexual relations with minors, no somnophilia, necrophilia, incest, toilet stuff, snuff, or beastiality!
Dark Fics are allowed (Non-Con/Dub-Con) but they MUST BE APPROPRIATELY TAGGED!
Any creation MUST BE ORIGINAL! No stealing, stealing is bad!
The creation if part of a series must be able to be read as a stand alone!
No word limit! If it’s over 500 please use the read more function!
All the prompts are below the cut, remember its a max of three, but you can mix and match as you like so the possibilities are endless!
Characters:
Chris Evans
Steve Rogers
Andy Barber
Frank Adler
Ari Levinson
Curtis Everett
Johnny Storm
Jake Jensen
Ransom Drysdale
Any other Chris Evans character
Trope:
Fake Dating
Only One Bed
Enemies to Lovers
Friends to Lovers
Cuddling for warmth
Trapped together
Mistaken Identity
One night only
Love Triangle
Fated Mates
Childhood Sweethearts
Grumpy x Sunshine
Forbinned Love
Forced Proximity
WILDCARD! (You can pick an Trope not listed!)
AU:
A/B/O AU
Mob AU
Sports team AU
College AU
Emergency Service AU
(Medieval) Royalty AU
(Modern) Royalty AU
Pornstar AU
Fairytale / Fantasy AU
Biker AU
Soulmate AU
Band/Musician AU
WILDCARD! (You can pick an AU not listed!)
Dialogue:
"I told you not to touch that"
"I'm tired of answering that question"
"Why didn't they come?"
"I'm so sick of pretending everything's okay"
"don't just stand there! do something!"
"do you remember that night in [insert place]?"
"is there a problem here gentlemen?"
"what on earth happened here?"
"there's blood everywhere"
"Get in the van!"
"I'm not saying you're a bad cook, but even the flies in the kitchen wear gas masks."
"I may be a terrible dancer, but I've got great moves in bed."
"I'm not high maintenance; I'm just low tolerance for mediocrity."
"I love the sound of your voice and the way you say my name."
"Being with you feels like coming home."
“You're not the person I thought you were."
"I never imagined my life without you."
"I never got to say goodbye."
"I'm so glad you're here to point out my flaws. I would never have noticed them on my own."
"Oh, don't worry about being late. We'll just sit here and wait for you forever."
"I'm sorry. Did I ask for your opinion?"
"Why do you always insist on seeing the worst in people?"
"It's not my fault you can't handle the truth."
"You don't know what I'm capable of."
"I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want."
"You think you're better than me, but you're not."
"I'll use anyone I need to achieve my goals."
"You've made a huge mistake, and now you're going to pay for it."
"Don't you realize how much you've hurt everyone around you?"
"you have no idea what you do to me"
"don't you dare go slow"
"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow"
"move and you won't be coming tonight"
"hands behind you're back"
"Beg for it"
"you can take it, you've done it before"
"I'm going to fucking ruin you"
"do you think you deserve a reward/punishment?"
"show me how much you missed me"
"Are you holding back? don't"
"shall we put your mouth to better use?"
"Slowly, I'm not going anywhere"
"I said I'd take care of you"
"Please, I can't sit still"
So there’s absolutely so many to pick from covering fluff, comedy, angst and smut 😉 don’t forget to follow the rules I’ve set out above!!
I love you all 3000 🩵🩵🩵
#NiamhCelebrates#Niamh Loves You 3000#Writing Event#writing challenge#request info#chris evans#andy barber#ari levinson#ransom drysdale#johnny storm#jake jensen#steve rogers#colin shea
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Toys 'R' Us
Warnings 18+ for the following:- Non-Consensual Sex, Dubious Consensual Sex, Kidnapping, M/F Penetrative Sex (vag & anal), F/F Oral, M/F Oral (f receiving, everything else implied), Implied M/M, Choking, Very Mild Language, Restraints, Fingering, Fisting, Anal, Squirting, Use of Pet Names. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.
By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.
Pairings:- dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, dark!Tony Stark x Female Reader, dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Author’s Note 1: This is my submission for @jtargaryen18 Halloween Challenge 2023. Having chosen the prompt below, I’m kinda hoping I pulled it and the spooky sense of the season off. Even if I didn't, I most definitely had fun writing this. Thank so much for hosting this delightful challenge Jamie, you’re an inspiration to so many of us here. Hope anyone who reads this enjoys 💖
Challenge Prompt:- (The Portal in the Pumpkin: You carve one of the pumpkins Tony ordered, but this one turns out to be a portal to somewhere else...)
Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.
Synopsis:- Whomever told you Halloween parties were supposed to be fun never heard of those involving Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. What will happen when you accept an invitation to Tony Stark’s latest shindig?
Total Word Count:- 8,278
The invitation showed up in your mail just like it did every year you had worked for Tony Stark. But this year should have been different. Oh sure the heroes had stopped Thanos and things had pretty much gone back to normal. But what it had cost humanity seemed to have been forgotten by everyone but you. And here was the proof.
Looking at the red envelope with its gold writing you still couldn't believe this was happening. Tony was dead after all. Steve had chosen to abandon his friends and those that cared about him to live in the past with some British dame who promised him a dance but had no idea of the man he had become. And Natasha? Well Nat had willingly sacrificed herself knowing that no power in existence could ever bring her back.
So whose idea was it then that this Halloween should be celebrated in the same fashion Tony celebrated every occasion ... with a fabulous party that people talked about long after it was over. Opening up your door now and heading inside your home, the shocks continued to rock your system as you ripped open the envelope and pulled out the invitation you were now so used to receiving.
Except this wasn't anything like the previous ones.
Appearing now in ghostly holographic form and coupled with the time of year it was, Tony's voice sent a shiver down your spine as he reached out from beyond the grave and reminded you just how prepared he was for anything life threw his way. "Hello darling." Ugh there it was again you thought, that cringe worthy endearment that even in death was still such an integral part of who he was. "If you're seeing this then I am no longer among the living, but that hardly seems like a valid reason to let my legacy crumble. Therefore in true Tony Stark fashion," he continued with his hand upon his heart, "your presence is hereby requested at the last Stark party to be hosted by yours truly. No need to R.S.V.P., it's not like you would deny a dead man's last request after all."
Watching now as he winked back at you before the recording disappeared and left you on your own once again, you dropped onto the couch behind you and tried to think through your options. You hated parties after all. In all honesty it had to be the only part of being Tony Stark's assistant that really grated on you. Long hours. Tedious requests. His never ending flirtatious ramblings. All of these you took in your stride and even laughed off some of them. But these parties were definitely something you could do without.
Which you figured was why Tony always insisted you show up. Mixing with humanity was, according to someone who preferred to bury himself with machines, the only way to experience all the thrills life had to offer. God even now the thought of Tony lecturing you on always choosing books over partying made your eyes roll. He really knew how to annoy you it seemed.
Yet even in death, the man still had a point.
You could never deny him anything in life and you weren't about to cheat him out of his last request now. No matter how painful it would be to attend knowing that the man of the hour wasn't going to be there, you would always show up for him. Giving one last look at the invitation now and acknowledging that you at least had two day to prepare for this blessed event, you then headed off to bed and figured tomorrow would give you plenty of time to track down something suitable to wear. After all one couldn't show up to a Stark Party in any old rags.
Greeting the world again on what you thought was the following morning, you were beyond horrified to discover that you had actually slept a whole day away. Trying to remember now if you had actually gotten out of bed at all, some empty water bottles on your bedside locker and some vague memory of trips to the bathroom comforted you at least with the knowledge that you had left the bed. But that seemed to be all you did. Thinking back now on the last activity you could remember accomplishing, throwing yourself into bed after a long and exhausting day at work somehow convinced you now that the invitation you recalled receiving was simply a dream brought about by far too many long days and sleepless nights. However, rising from the bed and leaving the room, the envelope and its contents waiting on your living room coffee table told you the summons was real. Tony Stark was causing you problems once again.
Picking it up and now reading through the finer details his holographic presence and your tiredness had previously caused you to overlook, you now confirmed with a deep sigh the last thought you had that night before sleep knocked you out cold ... nothing in your closet would qualify for this event and you would definitely have to go shopping. Sighing now with the realization that two days notice had disappeared to become the day of the party, you figured you better get a move on.
Calling a taxi then to pick you up in half an hour, you hurried off into the bathroom to shower and dress before heading outside to catch your ride. Sitting into the taxi then and telling your driver Devon exactly where you wanted to go, you tried to focus on him talking to you about mundane things like the weather or the last football game he watched but the list of various Halloween outfit shops popping up on your phone as you scrolled through Google proved too much of a distraction to really take in much of what was being said. After all, with the party taking place tonight this shopping trip was the very definition of last minute. And you despised last minute chores.
Which you guessed explained the headache that was now beginning to form.
At last arriving in the center of the city, you promptly paid and thanked your driver before exiting the taxi and heading off towards the nearest costume shop. Hoping for a one and done kind of experience, stepping inside the front door at least brought you some comfort when you were greeted by a throng of adults and children milling about through the huge array of colorful costumes stretching as far as the eye could see. You weren’t the only one it seemed that the spooky season had crept up on.
Walking through the shop now around excited children, harried adults and even more stressed out shop assistants, you made your way to the adult sections and carefully pawed through every single costume without any of them really screaming out ‘pick me.’ Giving up at last when nothing really grabbed your attention, you left the shop and headed to the next one and the next one and the one after that. Eventually tired out and wondering why you were unable to find a simple costume for a simple Halloween party, you figured a spot of lunch might allow you to clear your head and start over when suddenly a quick glance down a side alley revealed a small shop decked out in pumpkins, spiders and all manner of ghost and ghoulie.
Glancing around now and observing that no one else seemed even remotely aware of the shop’s existence or where you were even looking, you took a few extra seconds to ponder this revelation before swallowing your concerns, placing one foot in front of the other and heading off towards its door. Placing your hand on the knob then once getting within its reach, you held your breath and pushed forwards.
Stepping inside the first thing that caught your eye wasn’t the smoking cauldrons or the various supernatural creatures displayed throughout but the actual interior of the place itself … it reminded you of a forest. Decked out with a moss like carpet, the night sky overhead contrasted beautifully with the leaves cascading down the walls in all the glorious colors of fall. It took your breath away. In fact you were so mesmerized by the whole scene before you that you actually let out a shocked scream when a hand landed on your shoulder as the owner of the shop made her presence known to you.
“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she apologized politely as you smiled back tenderly while you tried to reassure her that no harm had been done. Starting a conversation then regarding how amazing her shop looked and at the same time how empty it was compared to most of those on the main street, she simply smiled and reassured you that she still turned a nice profit through those that were destined to find this place. Taking no notice of her exact words however as your attention now fell to the lack of costumes on display, you wondered if she could actually read your mind when she walked over to the door, locked it and then turned her attentive gaze back on you before speaking. “Now dear, how about you follow me to the back room and we’ll see if we can find something to bring out your spooky spirit.”
Glancing at the locked door now as she simply walked past you while motioning for you to follow after her, your mind quickly debated what you had gotten yourself into before the memory of why you were even on this trip reminded you that you were terribly low on options. The party was fast approaching and all the other shops you had tried had been woefully disappointing. This one really couldn't be any worse, right? So silencing your reservations then and following behind her step by step, thirty minutes later had you endlessly thanking her as you finally had a costume that suited you and the occasion perfectly. She truly had delivered. Saying your goodbyes then, picking up a few essential items and grabbing a quick bite to eat, you next hailed a taxi to get you back home to begin preparing for the night ahead.
Opening up the door to your apartment and stepping inside, you put away your other purchases before heading into your bedroom and dropping the bag containing your costume onto the bed. Sinking into the chair in the corner of the room then, you contemplated one more time about not going to this party before you finally chastised yourself for hiding yourself away from your former work colleagues. Sure Tony’s death had been hard on you, so hard in fact you sought out a new job even as the Avengers now rebuilt the compound at a completely different site and Pepper had offered you a lucrative position as her own personal assistant. Still it would never be the same. It couldn’t be. Tony may have been a colossal pain in the ass after all, but he did make things fun. And it was that fun you missed most of all.
Taking off your shoes now that your mind was beyond changing, you then reached for your phone, booked a taxi for an hour and a half later and finally headed off towards your en suite to start your preparations. Stripping off your clothes then as the shower heated up and sent its soothing sounds throughout the room, you now stood beneath its warm spray and washed off all the grime trying on the various costumes had deposited on your skin.�� Grabbing a towel then and heading back to your bedroom, you dried off before retrieving the costume and looking it over once more. It really was impressive.
At last feeling all the excitement of the evening ahead, you slipped on the black and red leather bodysuit along with the knee high boots before standing in front of the full-length mirror just inside your closet door. Admiring the way the suit hugged your figure while cupping your breasts in a way that honestly had you feeling all kinds of sexy, you had to admit that nothing looked as good as your legs leading down from the bodysuit to nestle snugly within the boots. As Tony would say you were indeed a looker.
Genuinely smiling now for the first time since receiving the invitation, you next went about securing the high collar with the adjustable straps provided before taking out the accompanying belt and securing it firmly around your waist. Watching now as the four sheer drapes cascaded down your thighs and ass, the light make-up and fake blood you then applied finally finished off the look splendidly and you had to agree that the shop owner was indeed correct. This was most definitely your look. Checking the time on your phone one last time, you then picked up your jacket and the invitation and walked out the door just in time to sit into the waiting taxi and head off to see what adventure lay ahead.
Pulling into the parking area of the new Avengers Compound twenty minutes later and handing over your jacket and invitation at the door, arriving at the entertainment floor confirmed that you had made the right decision despite the fact that for the first time since you had come to work for him Tony would not be here. In fact, it suddenly hit you now standing in this room that Nat and Steve also had to be added to the list. It just didn’t seem fair. Setting aside these depressing thoughts however in favor of living life large just like your former boss was notorious for, you plastered on your best and brightest smile and walking towards the bar, ordered the reddest drink they had in honor of the vampire princess your costume declared you to be. Sipping on it slowly then as the taste assaulted your senses and whatever alcohol it contained burned your throat, you took a few minutes to look around the floor and study the lay of the land until a shiver traveled down your spine and a voice in the back of your mind told you you were being watched.
But that just had to be paranoia, right?
This was a party you were actually invited to, you were no one in particular and everyone looked to be enjoying themselves way too much to zero in on you. No, you figured now with the outfit you wore the shiver was simply your body adjusting to the changes in temperature and as for the voice well, that you were going to write off as your imagination when a cursory glance around the room proved not one single person here was looking in your direction. You were just another body. Gazing out across the sea of faces more closely now bathed in the eerie glow of lighted pumpkins and multi colored billowing smoke, another sip of your drink to calm your nerves and it actually warmed your heart to see so many people - superheroes and Stark employees alike - just hanging out and enjoying the spooky season in all manner of costume that now made you feel right at home.
At last leaving the safety of the bar and venturing forth to mingle, talk and get a closer look at some of the activities, you not only discovered Thor’s dark talent for telling terrifying stories that appeared to be frightening even grown ass adults, but it actually made you smile even more to find Bucky and Sam thoroughly outdoing each other in an ever increasingly degrading game of Truth or Dare. They really seemed to be embracing the spirit of the season. Which you figured was something you should be doing.
Thinking now to yourself however of just how much Tony and Nat especially would have enjoyed the festivities on display, you were just about to join Wanda, Pepper and some of your former colleagues from before you left Stark Industries to work at the Avengers Compound for a game of 7 Minutes In … when a glimpse off to your left revealed Carol, Clint and Bruce in the throes of carving pumpkins and having a heated discussion as to which one of them was doing a better job. Deciding there and then that this actually looked like far better fun and also using the excuse to get your hands on a knife, you placed your hand on Pepper’s shoulder and gave her a warm smile in greeting before making a beeline for the three Avengers currently trying to decide what exactly Carol was after creating.
Stepping up beside them now in the hopes of not only settling the argument but also just to see what each of them had accomplished, you too had to agree that the pumpkin was not something recognizable on Earth to which Carol now threw her arms around you and thanked you for stating the obvious. Apparently she had indeed carved out some alien creature none of you had ever even heard of and neither of the guys had actually realized it. Deciding now that your detective skills merited some type of reward and pointing out, to his dismay, that it made you smarter than the great Doctor Banner, Carol now reached behind you and picked up the nearest pumpkin for you to try out your skills on.
Taking the knife now offered by Clint, you waited until all three of them nodded their heads for you to begin and so you did. Slicing off the top and scooping out the insides, you then carved slowly and carefully and fifteen minutes later a tea light nestled inside revealed the Kraken from Norse mythology devouring a ship and dragging it down to the depths of the ocean never to be seen again. Grumbling between themselves that you were hiding talents from them, the three superheroes now admitted defeat and walking away left you thinking of what you wanted to do next. Deciding that as grand, successful and fun as your first pumpkin carving attempt had been, it was a bit too dark in your opinion despite the season that was in it and so reaching for the biggest pumpkin you could find you made the first cut thinking that this time you wanted to try something simple and cheerful.
But alas it wasn’t meant to be. Sliding the knife in and drawing it back out, a gust of wind simply loud enough for you to hear emanated from the pumpkin and as the knife plunged back in and created a larger cut, a portal formed before your eyes and sucked you forwards into the unknown.
Rising to your feet now having been unceremoniously dumped out wherever the portal had ended, you took a few steadying breaths before beginning the task of figuring out where you were and how you were going to make it back to the party. Realizing also in the same breath the mistake it was to have left your phone in your jacket pocket, you now focused instead on where you might be and the revelation shocked you. You were standing in what appeared to be a darkened toy store. Massive beyond belief and covered in cobwebs, debris and all the eerie spectacle of the season, your hopes of getting out of here began to soar as you cautiously made your way down the nearest aisle and headed towards the front of the building. But that hope did not last long.
Being greeted by boarded up windows that let in just enough light for you to see by, this revelation coupled with a nearby phone that proved to be lacking an active dial tone told you all you really needed to know. The place was utterly abandoned and you were trapped inside. Panicking now at the situation you found yourself in, you checked and rattled every window and door you could find for any possible way out but no exit appeared, so you now began searching the surrounding area for anything that might help you escape or at the very least alert someone outside that this place was not as abandoned as it appeared. Failing miserably however as everything you tried chipped away at your sense of preservation, you finally sent your gaze upwards along the height of the shelving and wondered if you could climb them, reach the roofing system and manage to get out that way.
Looking around once more now at the front of the building which offered no escape and the Halloween decorations adorning this place that now looked far more sinister and creepy the longer they stared back at you, you accepted you had nothing left to lose and so placing your foot on the nearest shelving and reaching up over your head you prepared to climb and get a better view of things above you when the sound of someone chanting off to your left caught your attention. Stopping what you were doing now and focusing more completely on what was being said, you still couldn't distinguish any one word from another but two facts were undisputed. And they totally freaked you out. One, you were no longer alone in this place and two, this new voice belonged to that of the male variety. Which made you even more uneasy. Taking a moment now to contemplate this new information in the context of what you were currently wearing and the time of year it was, you waited a heartbeat more before finally deciding that seeking assistance to get out of here was worth whatever danger may be waiting for you somewhere in the bowels of this disused toy store.
Dropping back down to the floor and moving forward now without alerting your unknown companion, you made it all the way to the action figure aisle where the light of a stationary flashlight illuminated the silhouette of a familiar figure standing before a life size cardboard cutout of The Black Widow Natasha Romanoff. Completely forgetting the unusual circumstances now that landed you in this peculiar location, you hurried forwards and called out Steve Rogers name until a wayward glance beyond him stopped you in your tracks.
Something very strange was happening here.
Looking back and forth now between the man that sparked hope within you and the object that halted your movements, seeing what looked like blood dripping down Natasha's effigy made you want to run back the way you had come when another image caught and held your attention. At the end of the aisle, four or five feet away now from where you and Steve stood, another life size cardboard cutout also stood dripping in the same red substance, but it was still easy to make out. This one was Tony Stark. Moving slowly past Steve now without any interference from him to stand before the image of your former boss, you were just about to reach out and wipe the red liquid from his cardboard helmet when a hand suddenly reached out to stop you and made your skin crawl.
"Please don't do that. Jamie was very clear that their blood should not come in contact with any other living creature," Steve explained and the shadows dancing across his features as you glanced towards him somehow made him far more terrifying than you ever thought possible.
"Who the fuck is Jamie and just what the hell is going on here?" you asked, turning now to face Steve fully while his grip on your wrist and the bloody scene before you frightened you more than you ever willing to utter. Especially to him.
Visibly flinching a bit at your language, tone or possibly both, Steve easily composed himself however before speaking. "Oh I'm sorry sweetheart," Steve began as he now moved both of you away from the figure before you and the temptation you still had to touch it. "I thought after all the time the two of you spent picking out your costume she would at least have given you her name. Guess she didn't," he now finished as his tongue darted out to lick his lips while his eyes took in the sight of you for the very first time.
Following his eyes down your costume now as some of the pieces began to fall into place, you still didn't know for sure what puzzle they were falling into though and part of you questioned if you really wanted to find out given what you had seen so far. But it proved to be a very small part however. Deciding instead after a brief pause that you just had to know what was going on, you turned your full focus back on Steve now and asked the question he failed to answer once again.
"Well if you really must know, Jamie informed me that very little separates the living from the dead on All Hallow's Eve. So using a spell she provided, Nat and Tony can walk this earth once again."
Completely horrified now by this revelation, all that it implied and his seemingly cavalier attitude to what he was proposing, your head screamed at you to run but your natural curiosity won out again as more words tumbled from your mouth without too much thought for what you were saying or the consequences they might reap. "What the hell Steve? Why would you do something like this? Have you any idea the forces your actions could unleash?"
Locking his eyes with you now as he contemplated whether or not to tell you the truth, it seemed the truth won out in the end as America's sentinel of liberty began to speak once more. "What can I say sweetheart? I missed Natasha. Hell even on some level I also missed Tony. I just had to find a way to bring them back. And this is it. Whatever it takes," he finished with a cold, almost lifeless whisper and you knew now that all hope was lost. This man before he was no longer the beacon of hope the world held him up to be and the longer his blue eyes roamed over your barely concealed form the more afraid you became of the circumstances that landed you here and the consequences should you be unable to escape.
Frantic now as your mind wandered back to the feeling of someone watching you as you entered the party, you wanted to tell yourself to shut the fuck up when another round of words left your trembling lips. "It was you?" you stated almost as a question as more pieces of this puzzle made themselves known to you. "You sent the invitation. Organized for Jamie to find me. You were watching me at the party too. Oh god," you shuddered out suddenly as a final thought revealed itself to you, "you left that cursed pumpkin for me to find. You wanted me here."
Backing away from him now as you no longer wanted to hear anything he had to say, you finally took off at a run not caring where you were headed, but only made it three aisles over before a heavy body slammed into you and brought you to the ground. Trying desperately now to fight him off but failing miserably given his power, size and the position you found yourself in, you might have feared for your life as a crazed looking Steve turned you over and brought his hands around your throat if not for the words that settled in your ears as his fingers started to squeeze. "Rest easy now sweetheart, I'm not done with you yet and there's at least one person both of us know who will be overjoyed to find you here."
Clawing at his hands now as your vision began to blur and his words frightened you more than any revelation so far this night, your fingers eventually fell from his as the cold embrace of darkness finally claimed you and his satisfied smirk was the last concrete image your mind captured.
Regaining consciousness some unknown time later to find Steve with his back turned towards you staring into space, you might have been horrified by the fact that your body suit was all that remained on your frame now if not for the fact that being practically naked was not your worst condition. Ignoring the super soldier who seemed to have taken leave of his senses, your eyes now took in the makeshift scene all around you and it was worse than the one before he choked you out. Following the line of your limbs, you quickly discovered that the drapes that earlier fell from your hips now tied you down to what looked and felt like the base of a fourteen foot trampoline. Which didn't bode well for you.
Determined as a result to remain as quiet as possible so as not to alert your unhinged captor, you pulled your arms and legs towards you and while there was some tiny movement allowed, the fabric didn't even tear. Which only confirmed that you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. Meaning you were now in serious trouble. Tired now from all the exertion this information and running from Steve had cost you, you relaxed back down on your makeshift prison and figured it was maybe time to try and reason with the man responsible for your current situation since you had nothing else to lose. “Hey Asshole,” you began as a means of grabbing Steve’s attention though you knew once again that your attitude had not been well received by the noticeable tension that seemed to settle in his shoulders, “you maybe want to tell me why exactly I’m tied down here. Surely you’re not going to go so far as to sacrifice me?” you now asked and you hated yourself for the tremor you knew he must be hearing in your voice.
“Sacrifice you?” Steve now asked as he turned around to face you before jumping up onto the trampoline and kneeling down between your open legs. “Oh sweetheart don’t be silly. Jamie doesn’t practice that type of magic, but you will have to contribute … something,” he now answered and as his fingers began gliding over your bound figure you suspected that his next answer was not going to be something that was going to excite you. Even if you hadn't been tied down.
Listening intently now as the terror began to build, Steve informed you that come midnight Tony and Nat would step through their blood soaked cardboard cutouts and rejoin the world they gave their lives for. All that then had to be done to seal the resurrection spell was for the two of them … well in this case the three of them, to spend the next twenty-four hours ravishing each other's bodies and yours so Jamie could harness the energy of said couplings for whatever purpose she required. Finishing off this revelation then by leaning forwards and placing a kiss against each covered breast, you wished you could headbutt him in retaliation but the other questions swirling in your brain took priority.
Plus there was the fact that your current position didn’t allow you the strength to inflict that type of damage on him. Still, telling Steve in no uncertain terms that you would tell Tony and Natasha what he had planned, you also told him that he had to be even more deranged if he thought the flimsy drapes tying you down would remain strong enough to hold you for that length of time. His answer to this remark however only served to shock you even more.
Glancing at his watch now before releasing a laugh that sent a chill through your very soul, Steve now seemed to take perverse pleasure in settling his lips against your ear before explaining the lengths he and Jamie had gone through to secure your participation. “Oh sweetheart, your little shopping trip to Jamie’s did more than enable you to purchase this delicious covering. The drapes while looking flimsy to you are actually enchanted to hold you forever until one of us releases you. And as for telling tales to Tony and Nat," he continued with a tsk tsk sound, “well … try to reveal anything too detailed about your participation or Jamie’s involvement and all anyone will hear is you moaning, pleading and begging to be fucked harder.”
Rising off the trampoline now and heading back to the spot he had previously been watching from, your mind began to swirl with everything he had just told you but as a whooshing sound now broke the silence settling around you and Steve again, this new development now told you that the time you had left with full control over your voice was just about up. So with very little choice left available to you, you swallowed your fear and asked Steve the one remaining question that haunted you the most now. “Steve, what happens to me after twenty-four hours? Will I actually survive what’s coming?”
Torn between answering you now and giving his full attention to his two friends whose cutouts you just now noticed standing a few feet away, a quick glance at the shimmering effigies and his watch told Steve he still had some time. It couldn't hurt then to give you another piece of information, right? Sighing again at your persistence before turning back to face you, he simply told you now that you would indeed survive but all four of you would then be bound together forever and beyond. Informing you also that the question and answer portion of the evening was now officially over, you would have protested this final statement vigorously if not for the skeletal hands you now watched emerging from the cutouts before you.
This shit couldn't be real.
Following your frightened gaze and high pitched screams now to also witness what you were seeing, Tony and Nat emerging through the blood soaked veils should have been a welcome sight except for what actually appeared in their stead. Disheveled skin, protruding bone and wispy strands of hair, you now felt bone chilling fear for the first time in your life at the prospect of having these creatures anywhere near you. But Steve it seemed didn't care. Moving forward now one step at a time for every one they took in your direction, you ignored Steve’s actions and his previous comments and pulled harder against your bindings until a new phenomenon drew your attention to what was taking place before your eyes.
Craning your neck now around Steve’s considerable bulk, your eyes widened in utter disbelief as you watched the desiccated corpses of two people you thought you’d never see again somehow absorb the blood that previously covered their cutouts and complete their transformations. Reaching their friend and former teammate then, Tony and Nat embraced Steve in all their former glory and as the three friends focused on their own reunion you now wondered how long you had until their attention fell on you and whether this transformation was real or simply an illusion.
Fearful now that the answer to this unvoiced question would end up being the latter, yet not liking the former prospect any more either, you foolishly tried once more to free yourself from your confinement until Tony separated from his friends and locked his gaze on you. “Well now darling, aren’t you a sight these once dead eyes thought they’d never see again. Capsicle you really have outdone yourself,” Tony now added as he walked away from Nat and Steve and closed the distance between you. Feeling your heart now pounding in your chest the closer he got to you as Natasha helped Steve strip out of his clothes, Tony at last reaching the trampoline and placing his hand upon your ankle told you one thing at least. This was no illusion.
Completely naked, warm to the touch and looking every bit as human as he had in life, the smirk you never admitted to loving graced his newly restored features once again as he watched your eyes travel down his impressive physique to settle on his equally impressive package. It was better than your dreams. Calling for the others now to hurry up, Steve and Nat standing beside him equally naked now left you feeling positively fully clothed in the bodysuit that moments earlier had felt like nothing more than a glorified swimsuit. But you knew it wouldn’t last. Watching now as their hungry eyes raked over your bound and covered form, all three heroes nodded silently to each other now before Tony joined you on the trampoline and ripped the bodysuit from you. Begging now for them not to follow through with what they had planned, it was Natasha that set out to put your mind at ease.
“Princess please, look at you. Look at us,” she continued as Steve and Tony reached out and helped her up on the trampoline. Dipping ever so slightly now from the combined weight of all four of you as Tony remained between your legs while Steve and Nat rested on either side of you, the redhead licking a stripe along your neck made you cringe in disgust until she started speaking once again. Then you wanted to vomit. “Do you see Tony’s package princess? Tell me you haven’t fantasized about it buried deep within your flower. And what about Steve?” she asked, reaching across your body then to place her hand around his glorious erection. “Imagine this rod splitting you apart as you beg the guys to fuck your brains out. Not that we'll be able to hear you much with my pussy dripping all over that sweet and talented mouth of yours,” Natasha finished with a laugh before her lips crashed against yours and her tongue invaded your mouth and tickled your senses.
Drawing back to let both of you breathe then while letting go of Steve’s equipment, the three heroes exchanged looks once again as Tony now made room for Natasha between your legs while Steve moved closer to fondle your breasts and replace Nat’s lips with his own. Fighting off Steve’s advances now as his tongue darted out against your lips but failed to breach your oral cavity, he finally managed to penetrate your defenses however when Natasha bent down between your legs and buried her head against your intimate area. Moaning out then as her lips descended over your folds and began to lick and nibble an area no man or woman had ever touched orally before, Steve took full advantage of your slippage and gliding his tongue over yours began to seek out any participation from you on his end.
Squirming now to get away from Steve’s skillful hands and Natasha’s talented fingers and mouth, you actually lost control of your senses when Tony attached his mouth to Nat’s private area and sent her moans reverberating through your pussy in a sensation overload you had never experienced before. One that made your head spin. Grabbing a hold of the drapes now as you and Natasha were pulled apart, you couldn’t tell where you ended and Nat started and at this moment you couldn’t really care. Feeling your orgasm growing stronger and stronger as Natasha's tongue and fingers continued to assault your core, Steve now suckling on your breasts while Tony worked Nat towards her own release confirmed all that they had told you ... it was going to be a fourway.
But it didn't end there. Hearing a female voice chanting in the same language you had heard earlier, a cracking sound joined the slapping, slurping and moaning sounds coming from all four of you and you figured now that this was the energy harnessing part of the spell that Steve had previously mentioned. At least you might have accepted that explanation had your mind been able to focus completely on anything other than the sensations currently pulsing throughout your system. Biting along your chest now so that your mouth was free to give a voice to their efforts, moaning out now just like Steve had promised as their manipulations of your body continued to push you higher and higher, you cried out your release and created a vice-like grip on Natasha's fingers as a powerful orgasm ripped through you and threatened to knock you out once again. But it wasn't going to happen. Continuing to fuck you through your high as Steve now egged her on and Tony increased his eating out of the redhead sandwiched between the two of you, one more powerful, never-ending spasm starting in your head and thrumming downward towards your toes and you felt the dam burst. Literally. Squirting out all over Natasha's face as she in turn released into Tony's waiting mouth, all three heroes now smiled in satisfaction at the moisture leaking from you and dripping down Natasha's face.
Laying atop you now as Steve moved forwards to taste her release on Tony's face, you would have chosen that moment to close your eyes to the scene before you if the redhead didn't have other plans. Moving her body along yours as the guys now watched in rapt attention, her bringing her lips against yours should have made you thoroughly repulsed but instead it turned you on. And the words she uttered next just added to your overall confusion and humiliation. "You taste wonderful princess, don't you think? I'm glad I got to sample you first," she finished with a wink as she then flopped down beside you and began discussing with the guys how all of you should proceed from here. Deciding it was only fair that Steve should get to taste your nectar next, Tony and Nat now snuggled up on either side of you as the super soldier made himself comfortable between your legs. Feasting on your pussy then as Nat and Tony showered your upper body with nips and kisses, you actually began to wonder if Steve required any air to breathe at all as your body responded to his stimulations and his face seemed determined to breach your entrance.
Begging him to stop eventually as you couldn't take much more, an imperceptible look towards his teammates had Tony holding down your hips while Nat placed her lips over yours to easily silence all of your objections. No longer able to do anything now but feel each and every sensation swirling through you, your body finally succumbed to Steve's unrelenting torture as wave after wave of unending pleasure crashed throughout your body and you at last surrendered to the multiple orgasms competing within you for the title of strongest one. Pleased with himself now at the effect he had on you as he collapsed exhausted between your legs, you hoped now they would at least let you rest a bit before starting up again. But this was not to be part of their plan it seemed.
Having followed the rule of ladies first and then rewarding Steve for all that he had accomplished so far this night, Tony had waited patiently to taste your honeypot. But it seemed his patience now had run out. Returning to their starting positions as Natasha whispered in your ear how she had never tasted anything quite as exquisite as your pussy, Steve devoring your mouth once again did nothing to distract you from Tony's mouth attaching itself to your dripping folds. Acknowledging now for the first time that Steve and Nat were clean faced, the feel of Tony's goatee against your oversensitive lips was an altogether different experience. As were his skills. Realizing now that the previous two heroes had pulled you apart without ever actually manipulating your clit, Tony's nibbling on your bundle of nerves along with the tingling burn created by his facial hair added a whole new sensation to the pulses taking place within your core and as every muscle in your body began to tighten you knew you were in trouble. This was shaping up to be your most powerful release yet.
Successfully pulling back from Steve's mouth now as the pressure began to build throughout your system, you fought as best you could against Tony's hold even though it was an action that ultimately proved futile. Adding his fingers now which then became a fist as his tongue, lips and goatee all continued to aggravate the nerve endings his friends had previously sparked to life, you this time welcomed the darkness that surrounded you as fireworks burst behind your eyes and what felt like electricity crackled everywhere from your head to your toes. You had never in your life come so hard and part of you hoped you never would again. It was beyond draining.
Releasing the drapes then that tied your now limp body to the trampoline, the heroes began to use you in earnest now as each of them took turns to become acquainted with all of your holes and each others. Twisting and turning you now in ever more creative ways as each of them tried it seemed to outdo the other, all you could do now was try not to pass out again as one orgasm ended and another one began. In fact, so coordinated and determined were they in their dominance of you that at one stage in this bizarre ritual with Nat sitting on your face while kissing Steve beneath you and Tony somehow also sampling Natasha's nether regions, both of the guys' cocks buried in your pussy at the same time had all four of you joined as one. And it wasn’t the only time this happened. Another time, Steve buried in Nat's ass and Tony buried in yours while you and Nat pleasured each other seemed to you like something out of a pornographic movie. But this too had actually been real.
Losing track of all the times each of you had come now as well as trying not to think about the consequences of all the loads the guys had deposited within your core, you suspected this part of your ordeal was coming to an end however as the crackling energy you vaguely remembered noticing earlier coalesced into a shimmering barrier surrounding the trampoline as Steve and Tony both released one final burst of cum each against your shuddering walls. Exhausted now to the point of being nearly catatonic, yet also eternally grateful that you had indeed survived, your body covered and overflowing with cum could not shut off the new round of questions forming in your brain as Steve and Tony nestled against your sides while Natasha lay down between your legs and rested her head upon your stomach.
Breaking the silence to ask what their plans were now that the twenty-four hour sex marathon had secured their resurrection, no amount of thinking or deducing on your part could have prepared you for the answer Tony furnished you with however. Informing you that a house had been secured in your name somewhere in time, all of you would live comfortably on a secret fortune that Steve had amassed while populating this new time period with the next generation of earth’s heroes.
Strenuously protesting this idea while simultaneously groaning at the thought of all the sex that would be required to accomplish this goal, Tony and Nat peppering your skin with kisses did very little to distract you however as Steve reached under the trampoline and retrieved a bag containing four time travel suits with corresponding GPS wrist straps. Slowly backing away from their location now as you all dismounted the trampoline, arguing with Tony that this whole idea of starting over was beyond absurd as the three heroes proceeded to suit up, a stern look from Steve as he moved to block your escape attempt told you no more insolence on your part would be tolerated going forward. Informing you then as he grabbed a firm hold on your shoulders that you could either get dressed on your own or be dressed, it was Nat now who tried to smooth things over by appealing to your gentler side.
"Princess, forget what happened these past twenty-four hours and listen to your heart. Now tell us you don't want this. This world believes us to be dead so we can't stay here, but elsewhere together a life with Tony, Steve and I awaits where you will be treasured beyond your wildest dreams," she finished and as all three heroes now stood awaiting your answer you simply countered by asking where the exit out of here was and would they even let you reach it.
Smiling at you now as Steve flat out told you you weren't going anywhere but with them, suiting up and following on as he led all three of you farther into the store and back to the storage area, all four of you then stood on the waiting quantum generator, synced up your GPS wrist straps and shot through the time portal to emerge in a wooded landscape with an impressive cabin decked out in all the splendor of the spooky season. Resigning yourself now to the future they promised as Steve confiscated all four wrist straps, a change of clothes inside the house had you wondering how long you could survive this nightmare before you lost your mind and whether or not your new reality came with heroes that could offer some assistance.
Tagging: @jtargaryen18
#jtargaryen18#JamiesHalloween2023#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark!Tony Stark x Reader#dark!Natasha Romanoff x Reader#Halloween Writing Challenge
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Mr. & Mrs. Stark
Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, kidnapping, anal, oral, fear, manipulation, cheating, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your life is turned upside down. First by Tony Stark. Then Steve Rogers.
Characters: Stony x reader
Note: This if for I love you 3000 dark writing challenge 2022 . I chose Stony with the basement wife trope. This is my first time doing Stony and only my second full length Tony fic.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Mother Goose loves being a goose? Take care. 💖
[Italics are flashbacks]
Tick, tick, tick.
The wall stares back at you, your only companion as a hint of cleaner lingers, tickling your nose with artificial lilac. Your hands curve around the porcelain, the tea lukewarm in your neglect. All is as it should be. The kitchen is quiet and empty, every counter shining, every tile mopped and stringent.
You blow out between your lips as that urgent flutter rises in your chest. That feeling that never goes away. Anticipation, rather anxiety. Revery, rather, regret. How did you get here?
Stark Tower was eerie after hours but you often found comfort in the late nights. Forgotten in the lower floors to sort through the endless cycle of files and memos, there’s a peace that nestles deep in the heart of the bustling corporation. The shuffle of paper, the rustle of pages landed in the bin, others sent off in tubes. For a company known for innovation, the system was antiquated.
You capped another container and sent it up. The work kept your hands busy, your mind distracted. Menial work, nothing like those on the top floors. The suits and the heroes. Among the excitement of the next new Stark invention was the boss himself and his team of avengers. A tier unreachable to any other.
You were happy in your little nook. Your place. Where you belonged. It wasn’t much but you made enough for rent, you had insurance, and a few perks that made the day tolerable. You reached for your forgotten coffee and took a bitter swig. It was cold and stale, but it was free.
Tick, tick, tick.
You blink at the clock and look down at your tea. The subtle amber hue of steeped herbs. You stand up, the scrape of the chair’s feet blasphemous in the silence. Your heels click across the floor and you dump the tea down the sink, rinsing the residue with the faucet. You watch the water swirl down, a small cyclone draining into the pipes.
You put the mug aside and close your eyes. You hang your head as you clutch the edge of the sink and shudder. The sterile air is cold and unwelcoming. You can never settle. Not here.
You rose and cursed at the brim of your cup. Your hips ached from your awkward perch on the high stool as you sorted. The nights often saw you waddling off with a stiff back and cramped legs. You groaned as you rubbed your lower back and elbowed through the door into the hall.
You poured the coffee into the water fountain just outside and pushed down the knob to wash away the remnants. You dropped the empty cup in the bin against the far wall with a hollow thwop and pushed your neck back with a sigh. Your shoulders were knotted, tugging on one another each time you moved.
There was an echo of your footstep as you shuffled back to the mailroom. You paused and looked down the hall. The lighting is pale and painful as it stings your tired eyes. Night shift always had that sobering effect, the hyper awareness that chiseled away at your sanity. You shake your head and pull open the door, dipping back into the room laced with the scent of paper.
You drag your hand blindly across the counter and retrieve the mug, giving it a proper scrub before drying it and placing it in the perfect line of cups in the cupboard. You shut the door and back up, turning to face the purgatory of your existence. The static raises goosebumps on your skin.
You cross the room and look into the next. The plush couch, the large TV, the luxurious carpet, a wall of windows that almost seem real. It’s a dream, the home everyone would love. Everyone but you.
You walk around the couch and near the wall that looks out onto the city skyline. That gives the illusion of a high rise. You touch the LCD and shake your head. A dystopian simulation stands all around you. A cell made to look like paradise.
It was 4am. Actually, twenty minutes past. You’d lost track of time but wouldn’t clock the extra minutes. You just wanted to go home and fall into bed. A hot shower sounded nice but you didn’t have the energy for that.
You locked the mailroom behind you and spun to face the hall. That noise. That echo, just a second off the scuff of your sole. You looked down at your black sneakers, the fifteen dollar pair that would wear through in a few months. The flat inline that did nothing for your pain.
You took a breath and looked both ways down the hall before you set off down your usual route. The subway was empty around this time of day, the closest ramp sat behind Stark Tower. You wound down the twists and turns of the basement towards the rear exit.
Before you turned the corner, you heard a click, the gentle touch of metal on metal. You slowed as you peeked around and found nothing but the heavy door that led to the concrete stairwell. Sometimes the janitor was around, starting their shift, but you didn’t see their cart or any signs of cleaning.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes as your knapsack dangled from your right shoulder. You were tired, you were hearing things. You pushed through the door, the noise echoed up the floors above. Your shoes squeaked as you crossed the cracked floor, neglected for the upper tiers of the tower. Your foot never met the first step.
“Honey, I’m home,” Tony’s voice draws you back from the live stream of the cityscape. You back away and quickly go to meet him, forcing a laugh at his oft repeated joke.
You stand at the end of the hallway as you watch him. He grunts as he rolls his shoulders and smiles as he sees you. You rush forward to help him out of his suit jacket. He stops you before you can hang it and kisses your cheek, “honey, you okay?”
“Yes, sir,” you say as you turn and sling his jacket on the coat rack, “I just finished tidying up.”
“Ah,” he taps your ass softly, “good girl.”
You step away and fold your hands compliantly. He sits on the bench with the shelf of shoes below. You get to your knees and slip off his loafers, inserting them into the empty space beneath. He catches your chin as you sit back on your heels and makes you look at him.
“You’re so good to me, baby,” he strokes your chin with his thumb, “you look tired.”
“Oh, I…” you touch your cheeks and shy away, “I forgot to–”
“No, I don’t mind,” he grabs your jaw more firmly before you can pull away, “a natural beauty.”
“Thank you, sir,” you swallow.
“Baby, tonight is not about me, it’s about you.”
You blink. Your chest twinges. You know that’s never true. You stare and wait for his trick to unfold.
“Shhh, baby, please, it’s okay,” the voice tickled the shell of your ear as you writhed in his grasp, “don’t fight it. It only makes it worse–”
You clawed at the tails of his jacket as your feet hit the floor helplessly. You saw the odd bracelet beneath his sleeve and the sudden cloud of blue smoke that puffed from it. It seeped into your nose and flooded your head, eyes itchy and mouth dry as you were forced to inhale the mist.
“Alright, it’s okay,” he kept his arm around your neck as he pet your head, easing you down to the floor as your body went limp, “just go to sleep. Shhhh, it’s alright.”
“Me?” You wonder as you bat your lashes. He drags his hand up to your cheek and gives a playful tap.
“Baby, go draw yourself a bath and relax,” he purrs as you remain kneeling between his knees, “as much as I love to see you in this position, you earned it.”
“Sir,” you breathe.
He offers his hand and you take it, cautious. He stands and pulls you up with him. His other hand crawls down your side and he hums as he eyes your dress.
“Can you believe it? One year. One whole year.”
You blanch and touch his hand as he squeezes your side. You nearly stagger at the revelation.
Tick, tick, tick. You hear the clock in the kitchen. How many hours, how many days, how many months. Not knowing is easier. You inhale deeply and let your hand trail up his arm, resisting the urge to shove him away.
“Happy anniversary,” you eke out, you know what he wants. He’s taught you exactly what to say.
“Aw, baby, happy anniversary,” he pulls you against him and crushes his lips against yours. He kisses you roughly, the trim along his chin tickles, as his warmth consumes you.
You woke up in darkness. Pitch black. You couldn’t see your own fingers as you waved them in front of your face. Naked but for the light weight around your neck. The panic quickly began to bloom.
“Baby, you’re awake,” the bodiless voice cooed, “ah, ah,” he tutted as you tried to sit up, only to fall back dizzily, “don’t go making too much fuss. You gotta give it time.”
“Wh–wh–” Where are you? What happened? You can’t put it into words as you’re paralysed by the throbbing in your head.
“One thing at a time, baby. This is level one.”
Level one, you blinked. Confused in the fog of your brain, the blackness, the voice that seemed to come from all around you.
“Level two is easier, but one is more fun,” he chuckled, “so baby, let’s start easy–”
“Who are you?” You whimpered as your body shook with the effort to sit up.
“Ah, I was about to get to that,” he taunted, “now, baby, don’t get so worked up. Your heart is pumping so hard, you’re gonna knock yourself out.”
“Please–”
“Baby, I’m warning you, it’s easy if you listen,” he dragged out the last word to a growl. “You can call me–”
“I’m scared,” your chest thumped hard as your ears rang, “please–”
Your muscles constricted suddenly and you crumpled onto the ground, prostrated on your back as the surge stretched every nerve to its limit.
“Baby, don’t make me do that again,” he warned as the tension slaked away and left you panting weakly, “for now, you will call me ‘sir’.”
The bathing pool stands against the wall, a great basin of steamy water, scented with rose as you dip into the depths. The heat should be relaxing but you can’t even remember what it feels like to relax. You lean against the wall and pull your knees up, bending your arms over your legs as you sit alone.
Tony surprises you as he appears, a bottle in one hand, two glasses balanced in the other. He puts them down on the tile that edges the tub and uncorks the bottle, a swell of foam rising over the top as he holds it away from him. He pours a full glass for both of you.
“Baby,” he lifts one and holds it out.
You push through the water to take it, “thank you, sir.”
You retreat and stare at the bubbly golden nectar. You were never a drinker but he never afforded you the indulgence. Maybe he’d allow you enough to forget. Or at least, accept.
“Thank you, baby,” he winks and peeks beneath the surface of the water, “you’re a sweet little thing.”
You smile, it’s brittle and painful as it dimples your cheek.
“Go on, have a drink, don’t wait on me,” he bids as he pulls free his tie, “we got all night.”
You carefully put the flute to your lips and daintily taste the wine. It’s sweet and sour at once. You nearly choke as you swallow it down. You drink deeper as the heat spreads through your chest.
You quivered and whined as another vibe rose from within. You don’t understand. It was hours of this. You reached searchingly down and still nothing. No, just your body. What was happening to you?
You felt along your cunt, dripping with your cum as a vibration pulses from within. You whimpered as you grazed your clit, adding to the overwhelming sensation. You hissed and poked your fingers inside, prodding, pushing as you tried to find the source. Still, you come up empty.
You rolled onto your back and cried out as you came again, body contorting with the raging tide of your climax. Your fingers curled into your palms and your toes bent until they would break. You gulped down air desperately, your head spinning as the rippling continued to course through you.
“Baby, you’re doing so good,” his voice taunted from the unseen speaker, “so good but you keep touching yourself, and I won’t be so generous.”
Tony slides up next to you, stretching his arm over your shoulders as he sits snugly against you. He clinks your glass with his and sips, his dark eyes clinging to you. You drink too and finish the last mouthful.
“Thirsty?” He muses. “As always.”
You look at your empty glass, “sorry, sir, I didn’t–”
“Go on, have some more,” he prompts, “it’s a special night, baby.”
You don’t want more. You already feel off-kilter but you know better than to say no. You wade over to the edge and fill your glass before you return to him. As you do, he directs you into his lap, his dick bobbing hard beneath you.
“Mmm, baby,” he reaches around you and takes your glass, “you’re delectable. I could eat you up.”
He presses the brim to your lips and tilts it. You swallow as he pours into your mouth, gulping as the deluge nearly chokes you. When the glass is empty, you cough and he draws it away, placing it beside his one the tile.
He hugs you from behind and kisses your shoulder, “missed you. Sorry I was gone so long but things… got a bit hairy.”
“Yes, sir,” you lean back against him as his hands crawl up your stomach and he fondles your tits. He groans as your ass rests on his twitching length.
“You know him,” he speaks against your skin and sighs, “always something to argue about. Not like you, baby. You know how much I love you, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” you lie.
“Fuck, it hurts how much I love you,” he snarls and nips at your neck, “I need you on me right now.”
“Sir,” your throat tightens as his hand wanders up to your neck.
You lift yourself slightly and feel beneath you. You angle his dick along your folds and spread your legs around his, easing down until you feel him in your stomach. You groan as your body tenses at the fullness. He squeezes your throat as his other hand grips your hip, forcing you down until it hurts.
“Good girl,” he rasps as he moves you slowly, guiding your pelvis in a torturous rock. “I’ve been thinking of this forever. One year…”
He growls and his hot breath fans over your shoulder and down your chest as he dips his head against you. He keeps his hold on your hip and his other hand drifts along your skin and down your arm. He takes your hand and raises it over the water, toying with the ring on your finger.
“Did you miss me?” He moans as he tilts you a little faster.
“Yes, sir,” you answer as you follow his lead, curling your fingers against his thigh, “I always do.”
“I wish it wasn’t so lonely down here for you,” he leans back, hanging his head back over the edge, “keep going.”
He pulls his hands back, bracing the tub as he groans. You keep your hips rolling, breath rising in shallow puffs as you fuck him. His deep voice drowns as he lets you take over, water slapping between your bodies.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he slaps your ass from the side, “you got a nice fucking ass. I think of that ass–” he grunts, “too much. Oh, god.”
You let out pathetic murmurs as he swoops his arm around you. He rubs your clit in circles as you work in his lap, knees against the porcelain as you grasp his thigh tighter.
“Fuck, baby, harder,” he begs as his fingers quicken on your clit, “yeah, like that.”
You obey, your voice underlining your frantic breaths. He snarls as the water splashes around your motion. You’re close as your walls clench him. He can feel it as he flicks you urgently. Your orgasm rolls over you but you fight through the pique to keep going.
“Mmm, you’re so good to me,” he presses on your bud until you whimper, “tell me to cum, baby.”
“Cum for me,” you huff, “sir, please, cum for me. You want to cum for me, don’t you?” You close your eyes as you recite your lines. “Are you bad? Are you going to cum in me?” He gurgles as you feel his body stiffen, “where do you wanna cum, sir?”
“Where do you want me to–” he rasps.
“Cum in me, sir, please,” you say through tight lips, “fill me up, please. I need it, sir.”
He spasm and latches onto your sides. He slams you down, over and over as he growls and fucks you from below. His pace is erratic and wild as the warmth coats your walls, slickening around him as he eases up. Finally, he stills you, pulling you back against his chest as he sighs.
“Mmm, I needed that,” he traces a line up your stomach, “but baby, I’m gonna cover every part of you in me.”
🕛
Just another day. Each like the last and the next. The only unknown is when he will be there. When he will come to cement the futility of your imprisonment.
There's never much to do. It's just you, you don't make much mess, and he doesn't leave much for you to clean up beyond yourself.
You pace as you usually do. By the books on the shelves you couldn't read for the reminder of what you'll never have again. The same reason the television stays black. The easel and paints that you only used once. The puzzle books you can't focus on enough to finish one riddle. The half-done knitting project. The evidence of your addled existence all around.
Click, click, click.
Your heels keep a tempo on the floor, holding pace with the ebb and flow of your thoughts. Slow, then fast, then stilling for just a moment as you turn back.
Click. Not a heel. Click. At the door. Click, click, scratch, beep, beep, beep.
You go to the doorway and peek around the plaster. The door shifts, shakes, then opens. You hide behind the plaster quickly. It can't be real. You've finally snapped.
The door whispers to a stop as he steps inside, his sole soft on the floor. You hold your breath and listen, not daring to poke your head out again. The gentle friction of some object moved and put back.
You step out of one shoe at a time and bend to pick them up. The rustle of fabric, a careful inspection of the coats by the door, for decoration alone. You don't need them, you never go out.
You cautiously tiptoe away as his footfalls advance down the hallway, closer. You scurry into the bedroom, panic tying your nerves in clusters as you look around. What do you do?
You roll open the closet and pull it shut swiftly as you spin inside. You slip on between the dresses hung on hangers and watch between the slats as the muffled noise of his invasion draws closer and closer.
He lets out a long exhale as his shadow skews over the hardwood.
"I can hear you," he utters to the air, "you're heartbeat. Come out."
You close your eyes and push yourself to the back of the closet, swallowed by the fabric around you.
"I know you're afraid. Your heart is racing. But I'm not here to hurt you." He steps inside and you quiver as you look through one eye, his blurry figure visible through the slat. "It's me, Cap? Steve Rogers."
He lets the declaration hang as he walks around the bed. He turns his back to you as he nears the night table, where an oval frame holds a picture of your and Tony. A picture where the sadness underlines your tight smile.
"The fuck…" he breathes.
"I'm not mad at you," he turns back, walking along the wall, towards the closet. "Not as much as him."
You smother your mouth as your tears trickle out. Tony's husband is just on the other side of the door and you're hiding. Hiding because he wouldn't believe you. Because you have nowhere to go and you learned long ago these heroes are anything but.
He pushes the door open so it folds, the wood snapping against itself. You sniffle as he shoves apart the hangers, unveiling you. His figure is shadowed as he blocks out the light of the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," you croak and cower.
"Come out," he says evenly, the anger barely restrained, "now."
You drop your shoes and step out. He moves back and watches you emerge. He looks you over as you shy away, slipping your hand behind your back as you see the golden band on his finger.
"Hey," he catches your arm and forces your hand up. His jaw ticks and he grits his teeth, letting go of you as he sneers, "fucking bastard. I knew it. And he was accusing me, but here–" he stops himself. "Let's go."
He grabs your wrist and drags you across the floor. You squeak as you try to dig in your heels, only causing your feet to drag painfully across the hardwood.
"Please, you can't-"
"Like hell I can't," he growls, "he wants to have a little pet, well too bad."
"No, please, listen," you plead as he forces you into the front room and marches you down the long hallway to the open door, "he won't let m–"
He tries to force you over the threshold and you cry out as a zap runs up your hand and down your spine. You violently rip away from him and hit the wall as you cradle your fingers, the ring searing you from the inside out. You sob and slide down to the floor.
"Christ! Tony!" He hollers as he squats and grabs your hand, "fucking–"
He tries to pull the ring off and another jolt surges in your, another shrill shriek as you swat him away.
"No, you can't–" you gasp as he lets you go and you keel over on the floor, weeping.
He huffs and stands up, kicking over the coat rack. It barely misses you as it falls and you sit up against the wall, breathless and babbling. You want to leave, you would do anything to leave, but you can't. He doesn't know how it hurts.
"Fuck!" He takes off his own ring and tosses it away, "fuck!"
"Always were the nosy type, Rogers," you wince as Tony’s voice echoes from the corners. You shrink as Steve turns, searching for him, "you spoiled the surprise."
"Surprise? Fuck you, Tony!"
"Now, now, honey, I couldn't give you an untrained pet, could I?"
"Bullshit!" Steve spins again, narrowing his eyes at a seam in the wall, "you've been fucking… her."
"I've been getting her ready for you," Tony calls back. The door suddenly shuts on its own and the lock whirs back into place. "Now don't go tryna run off on me just yet."
You curl up as Steve storms at the door and hits it with his shoulder. He does it several times and pulls at the handle. He snarls and kicks it, staggering back out of breath.
He pivots as he grips his hips and looks down at you, chest rising and falling heavily. He sighs and shakes his head. He slips down to sit on the floor beside the overturned coat rack.
"How long have you been here?" He asks.
You shrug, mopping your face with the back of your hands, "I don't know… a year… more."
"Do you want to be here?"
You stare at him, "that doesn't matter."
His blue eyes wander up the wall and he tilts his head back, "you're telling me."
You sit in silence, hugging your knees as you tremble and stare at his hand, fingers furling and unfurling. You hang your head and wipe your nose.
"I can make some coffee," you offer softly.
He flicks his fingers, exasperated, "sure, what the hell else am I gonna do?"
👠
You approach Steve quietly and set down the cup. He doesn't acknowledge you and you go to grab the cream and sugar, placing it close to the mug.
"Do you want milk instead?" You offer.
He breaks his trance fixated on the fridge and looks at you, "no, it's fine…" he wraps his long fingers around the porcelain, "thank you."
"I made cookies yesterday. Or the day before. I don’t know."
His lips part, a moment of disgust. He blinks, "no, no, that's… jeez. Can you sit down?"
"No, I have to be ready. I have to…" you stop your manic rambling, "sorry, sir, I'm sorry."
"Don't. Don't apologise. Don't talk like that. What is wrong with you?"
Your lip quivers and your frown. Your cheek twitches as your legs shake, "you're supposed to tell me what's wrong."
He bites down and stands. You flinch as he touches your upper arms and guides you back to sit in another chair. He holds you there and reluctantly parts.
"Where did you come from?" He sits and leans an elbow on the table as he hooks two fingers through the handle of the mug.
"I…" you look at the table, the rippled knot in the wood and cover it with your hand, "I worked the mailroom at Stark Tower. Once. Before…"
"Mailroom?" He cringes, "you're the one–"
He puts his hand to his mouth as his forehead wrinkles. He slips his head down and braces his forehead. You chew the inside of your cheek and look away.
"I'm sorry."
"No, I am," he sits back and grabs the cup, taking a deep gulp. He sighs and slams the cup down abruptly. The table jars and he stands, stomping out, "I can't fucking look at you."
You can't blame him. You hate yourself too. You hear him pacing in the hallway, then into the front room, something crashes and you drop your head down onto your arms as you slump against the table. This can't be real.
The door whirs and you sit up sharply, rocking the chair beneath you. Tony's voice flows down the hall.
"Honey, I'm home."
There's silence, then barreling steps down the hall. You turn and stare as Steve charges Tony back into the door as it locks. You don't move, paralysed as the blonde reels back and yowls.
"Come on, Rogers, you're not gonna bully me," Tony shows the odd skeleton contraption that wraps his hand, "why are you so ungrateful?"
"Me? You–"
"I told you, she's a gift. I'm surprised you waited for me to get started."
"Her? I don't–"
You can't see Steve, only Tony as he stands in the crux of the two doors.
"Tell me you don't want the sweet little thing," Tony taunts, "Rogers, I'd love to see it."
"Shut the fuck up. What did you do to her?"
"Everything that's going through your head at this very moment."
Silence. Tick, tick, tick.
"Tony," Steve mutters.
"Steve," Tony answers brightly, "you want her mouth first or–"
"Stop."
"I left her ass alone. For you, baby."
"Stop!" Steve shoves him and storms away, then back again.
Tony snickers as he regains his balance, "you're getting hard right now thinking about it. You want her. She's just your type, Captain. I should know."
"Stop, please," Steve begs, "we're married. You're–"
"I know you, all your little toys. Before–"
"I stopped," Steve blusters, "I stopped for you, Tony! What are you doing?"
"I'm spicing things up. Tell me it hasn't gotten stale."
"No shit. You got some girl locked up in this– this– bunker. Tony!"
"I can see your raging hard on, buddy, you don't gotta pretend with me–"
"Tony, I'm gonna fucking kill you. You are so–"
"Depraved? Fucked up? Kinky? You knew it. Let me hold her for you. Huh? I'll bend that pretty little ass over as you watch her suck my dick. Tell me you don't want it."
"Ton…" Steve rasps, "why?"
"Why not?"
Tick, tick, tick. You look up at the clock. Waiting.
"Oh, honey," Tony sings, "come here and meet the Captain."
You push the chair back, scraping loudly on the floor. You get up and rigidly turn, striding out to the hallway. Tony leads you in front of him to face Steve.
"Look at her," he snakes his arm around to force your chin up, "precious, isn't she?"
Steve takes a deep breath. The veins in his arms bulge as his eyes narrow and his pupils dilate. His head twitches as he clenches his jaw.
"And isn't he just the most hunky piece of star-spangled beef you've ever seen, baby?" Tony purrs against your crown.
"Yes, sir," you answer diligently.
"See how well I trained her, Cap? The soldier in you should be proud. Huh? Call him Captain, honey. He likes that."
"Okay, Captain," you shudder as Tony steps back.
Steve moans as he shifts his weight, his hand rising to brush down his chest. Tony tugs down the zipper of your dress and the fabric slackens. He pushes it down, baring you as he shoves it past your hips. You're left naked and prone to the other man's gaze.
"Rogers," Tony says in a musical taunt as he grabs your waist and urges you forward. "Look at her."
Steve looks down and shakes his head. He hooks his thumbs in the loops of his jeans.
"She wants you, Rogers. What's she gonna do without the Captain's firm hand?"
Steve takes a quaking breath and sucks his teeth. He tilts his head from side to side like a horse trying to shake its reins. His cheek dimples as he nods.
"Take her to the bedroom," he whispers, "gimme a moment here."
"You heard him," Tony lowers his hand to give your ass a tap, "get all nice and wet for him, baby."
Tony grasps your shoulders and steers you around Steve, who turns to watch as you go, eyes hooded and heavy. A darker presence lurks in him, something frightening, like a tiger licking its chops. The man behind you chuckles and urges you on.
In the bedroom, your blood cools and the heat razes your skin. You know how it goes, it always ends. You just need to get through it. Bite your lip, ball your hands, hold your breath, any way you can.
Tony takes you to the bed, ordering you around as he moves your body to his whims. Ass up, hands on the mattress, waiting, quiet, compliant.
He tickles your ass as he lingers behind you. You wince as he turns and gropes you fully.
“Be good for him, baby,” he groans as he pushes his pelvis against you, “I know you can do it.”
“Yes, sir,” you watch the bedspread.
You hear the floor creak. Tony stops you from looking back as he lifts a knee onto the bed. He grabs your skull and tuts, climbing in front of you as he holds you in place. He hushes you and pets your hair.
"Baby, it's okay," he coos and looks over you, "top drawer."
You curl your fingers into the blankets as you lean on your elbows. Clothing rustles around deliberate steps, a shadow looming behind you as Tony hangs on, keeping you blind to the other man.
"Baby, why don't you use that pretty mouth of yours while he gets warmed up?"
You push a hand up, clumsily picking open Tony's slacks, a designer cut like everything else. You tug at his fly and spreading them wide. He raises himself on his knees and wiggles as you eases them down, pulling the elastic of his briefs away from his stomach.
You shove the fabric low enough to pull him over the top, stroking him as he groans. He caresses your temple as your hand travels the length of him and back down, his veins throbbing against your palm. You shift closer as press your lips to his tips, sliding back the skin as you open your mouth around him.
"Mmm, yes, baby, that's so good. See how good she listens, honey?"
Steve grunts and something cool touches your ass. You whimper around Tony but he keeps your head bobbing, hooking a hand around to feel himself in your throat. You gag but hold it back.
"Mmm, she's good with her mouth, but you'll have to let me know about her ass," Tony hums as he carries the motion with his hips, fucking your mouth steadily.
The coolness retracts and cracks across your ass sharply. You choke as your eyes prick, the leather lashing again, biting into your tender flesh. You claw at the bottom of Tony's shirt and whine. Another snap of the belt has you shaking as your hand runs up Tony's torso.
Your tears leak out again, your body constricting as you try not to bite down. Steve lays another, full force and your legs slip you as your body contracts. You pull off of Tony as the pain overrides your restraint.
"Get her," Steve's tone is deep and rocky, "hold her."
Tony pins you down by your shoulders and Steve puts his leg over your thighs. He whips you again, again, until you're bawling and dripping with tears. He stops and traces a welt, blood leaking out hotly.
He slides his leg off you and exhales. Tony lets go and takes the end of the looped belt, angling it over your head. It's drawn tight to the buckle, forcing your head up. You sniff as Tony cradles your cheeks.
"Get that ass up, baby," Tony coaxes, "I know you can do it."
You shakily bend your legs under you and lift yourself. You hold yourself up on all fours as Steve backs away. Tony pushes a thumb against your lip and pokes inside your mouth.
A slippery cold trickle glides down between your cheeks and you flinch. Something lands beside your leg as Steve's hands spread across your ass. He dips his fingers down to smear the lube over your puckered hole. You tighten as he tickles you, playing and prodding, teasing as if he might delve further at any moment.
"I'll take a lot more for me to forgive you," Steve pushes his thumb against your ring, stretching you with the thick digits as you whimper.
"This is a start, isn't it, Rogers? I could never be that perfect little homemaker."
Steve growls and urges his finger deeper and you bite down on Tony's knuckle, the intrusion burning painfully. You suck on his thumb and bat your lashes, rolling your eyes back against the deluge.
"She's tight."
"I didn't fucking lie."
"Not about this," Steve grits, pushing in and out. "Hey, doll, you better loosen up."
You blow out as Tony slides back his hand to hold your chin. He looks down at you and winks, "Cap can be a big softie, if you let him."
Steve slips free of your ring and steps up, inching you back on the bed. His dick brushes along the curves of your ass and he angles it down between your cheeks. You gulp and flick your lashes up.
"Take it easy on her, can't have you breaking her right away," Tony warns.
Steve sneers as he edges along your ring and sets his feet. He leans in as you whimper, slowly opening for him. He doesn't let up, forcing himself deeper with short thrusts. You shriek with the horrid strain and reach back as you try to push him away with your fingertips, meeting only air.
He bucks into you completely and you cry out. Tony shushes you and grips your jaw, pushing you up to only your knees at the edge of the bed. Steve clutches your hip as his other hand explores your torso. He rocks against you, long, torturous thrusts.
You wheeze through your teeth, gnashing down as the agony stirs bile at the back of your throat. Tony cradles your face in his hands, resting his forehead against yours.
"Baby, you're doing it. Shhhh, you're doing so good. Isn't she, Captain?"
"Yeah," Steve says airily, speeding up so his pelvis slaps your wrought skin, "yeah, doll, so good."
Tony lets out a crackly chuckle, "see, baby, he loves you. Taking him so well. That's it. It won't hurt much longer."
You whimper and blubber as you clasp Tony's wrists. Your body vibrates around Steve as he pounds harder, harder, fingertips jabbing into your hip. He snarls and brings his hand to your throat, pulling you away from Tony.
Your eyes loll as he forces your head up, squeezing until you choke. You feel the bed shift and Tony's figure wisps by as he goes to stand behind his husband.
"That's it, Cap, that's how you do it. You see," Tony reaches around and pulls you back to your limit, "I need that special touch."
"Don't fuck around," Steve chuffs, "you're next."
"Counting on it," Tony slaps Steve's ass he he carries he eager motion, "better save some energy."
"I can do this all day," Steve drags you back and your feet fall to the floor as he bends you over the bed, body flush to yours, "til death do us part, honey."
#tony stark#steve rogers#dark!tony stark#dark!steve rogers#dark tony stark#dark steve rogers#tony stark x steve rogers#stony#dark stony#dark!stony#writing challenge#au#steve rogers x reader#tony stark x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#one shot#mcu#marvel#avengers#iron man#captain america#Iloveyou3000writingchallenge
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1K Follower Celebration Challenge
Welcome to my 1k follower celebration. I’m so grateful for all your support on my writing and want to thank you all by celebrating this milestone with you.
To celebrate this milestone, I came up with the idea of hosting a writing challenge where anyone who wants to participate can take part.
You can send in a request for the following things:
1, Moodboards
For example: A character + aesthetic you would like.
2, Headcanons
For example: “How would this character react to reader being on her period?”
Or: “Being best friends with a specific character.”
3, A request using one of the prompts from the list below.
If you have a specific idea with a prompt, feel free to describe it in more detail. However, if you only send in a character and a prompt you want me to use, that’s fine as well!
I write for:
Bucky Barnes
Steve Rogers
Wanda Maximoff
Yelena Belova
Chris Evans
For more information read my request information.
I would love if some of you would join in so we can celebrate together.
You can use one of the characters I write for or any other character you want to write!
Here are some rules if you want to write something or create a moodboard yourself:
Tag me so I can reblog and add it to a Masterlist.
Use warnings if they are needed!
There is no word limit, but please use the readmore button if it’s a long story.
Everything has to be your own work!
The most important rule is to have fun!!
If you decide to use one of the following prompts or create a headcanon or a moodboard, you can either choose something yourself, ask me to choose something for you, or ask your followers.
Prompts:
1, “I didn’t know where else to go.”
2, “Thank you for saving me.”
3, “You should stay here, it’s too dangerous to drive with that weather going on outside.”
4, “You’re my best friend.”
5, “Me and.… are just friends. You’re kidding, right? …. looks at you like you’re their entire world.”
6, “Wow, you look so beautiful.”
7, “I’m not leaving you here.”
8, “How could I say no to that smile.”
9, “How could you do this?”
10, “Can you please pretend to be my date? Just this time.”
11, “I know you could never hurt me.”
12, “The things you said yesterday…did you mean them?”
13, “Did you really plan all of this just for me?”
14, “You’re the best you know that, right?"
15, “Let’s go somewhere, just you and me.”
16, “I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”
17, “I heard you screaming. Are you okay?”
18, “Why is my name in your phone contacts: cute guy/girl from the café?”
19, “You’re such a cute couple.” “We are not a couple.”
20, “Wouldn’t you prefer to spend time with me?”
Some of these prompts come from myself, and I found some of them on Pinterest.
Happy requesting and I hope you have a lot of fun if you decide to take part on my writing challenge!
PS: This beautiful divider are made by @saradika-graphics
Tagging my mutuals:
@secretswiftymarvelfan @yelenasdiary @alotofpockets @sergeantbarnessdoll @buckys-wintersoldier @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nicoline1998enilocin @sebastianstanisahotmf @cevansbaby-dove @noellez-best-life23 @lokisbiiiitch1993 @romanoffshouse
#lives-in-midgard celebrates#writing challenge#marvel writing challenge#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#yelena belova#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova x you#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction
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Hey honey! I'm loving your bingo challenge<3
So I want to send in a request for Steve Rogers for the prompt 'ugly duckling'
So basically Steve meeting readers family and friends, and the running joke is how reader bagged an Greek god looking man like him despite being not so pretty. He soon understands why reader was first hesitant and a bit surprised when he asked them out. But Steve takes a stand for them in front of everyone and call them out on their behaviour and all the fluff! Please feel free to change anything you like or ignore the request if it's not worth it! Thank you so much! I love your fics💙
Hi hon <3
I feel so much about the "ugly duckling" so I added a little bit of "horrible family actions" that I've seen. I hope you'll enjoy this!
Make an Impression
Steve Rogers x You
Warning: Ugly Duckling, shaming from all aspects, bad language word(?)
Summary: Steve was nervous about meeting your family - your larger family, that is.
A/N: My eighth entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.
"What if they don't like me?" Steve whispered in horror as he looked at himself in the mirror.
"They will love you." You stood on the tip of your toes and kissed his cheek, "Seriously, my mom thought I'd be single for life. So she is already way beyond happy that I'd be taking someone home for this traditional festival."
Steve mumbled a "yeah", before turning to you, "I really want to make a good impression." He almost knotted his brows into a bun, "Any tips on how to be the best boyfriend?"
"You are the best boyfriend there is." You help flipping his collar in place. He was so nervous about meeting your family that he tried on five different ties for over a dozen times, leaving his collar a mess, "You'd be helping out... I think. And you definitely do not need a tie to suffocate yourself when you're helping out. They will love you." You emphasized the idea that your family would welcome him one more time, shrugging, "Just try not to answer any questions when my aunties and my grandma ask you about 'when are we having kids'."
"Kids?" Unfiltered panic filled his eyes.
"Um-hmm." You fiddled with the hem of his shirt, tucking it in place, "I know, we aren't even planning anything yet. Still, they love to do that. They'd be scheming when we're having our fifth kid with or without our help."
Steve swears he is sweating like a fountain.
"Smile. Tell them we're enjoying our solidarity. And you will be fine." You threw him a sympathetic look, "Tell them about your military stories. That would distract them enough."
You hoped your boyfriend would survive under your ruthless (or so you believe) aunties.
"C'mon. Mom said we should be there by 11 to help her cook lunch." You kissed his cheek again, "You'll do fine."
"Not quite sure about that." Steve muttered. If confidence could be measured from 1 to 10, he'd be negative a hundred by now.
You thought your aunties - your father's sisters - would be hogging Steve until he was going to have a panic attack, asking about your relationship or about his family three generations ago. But within an hour, you heard that he was able to make all of your aunties laugh with joy by telling some interesting stories in the barracks, while your mother kept you in the kitchen to help her around.
Help with cleaning. Not cooking.
After an hour and a half, your grandmother pulled an ancient photo book out of nowhere and started to show him your baby photos.
With pots of traditional dishes simmering over the stove, you were finally able to get a break from your mother's accusations of "not practicing homemaking" and escape to your boyfriend.
At which point, the photo album was only about one-quarter through, and your aunties had just started the chapter where you were 4 or 5.
"...now this." Your grandma chuckled and shook her head, "This was precious. She has always been the not-so-good-looking one among my grandkids. Hasn't changed about that. See her skin? And the hair? Her cousins tried almost everything to help her look better."
Yes. By "help" she meant that your cousins, who were not that older than you, shoved you around like a doll, pinning all their least-favorite hair bands and hair pins onto your head, and giving you ridiculous "make-overs".
The kind of "make-over" some 6-year-olds could achieve.
While your male cousins ignored you.
Some of them still did.
You didn't mind.
Your family isn't exactly the tightest bun in the world. You tried avoiding them until important family-gathering activities such as this one. Because they would criticize everything from your clothing to your work. And probably also tell your boyfriend that you are not that good.
"And what are you wearing?" One of your aunties eyed you disapprovingly, gasping as if she had just seen you. Even though you have been helping cleaning and cooking for at least sixty minutes, "Sweetie, your ass is going to rip your jeans. Why not sportspants? They are definitely more comfy. Could help cover your thick thighs too. Honestly, how you are able to date... him-" She gestured at Steve, "is baffling."
"That hair..." Another auntie tutted as loud as she could, "So messy, my dear. Have you tried conditioner? My boy brought back a bottle of L'OREAL conditioner from Paris and it has been working wonders. "
Third auntie chirped up helpfully, "Must have been that awful job, cutie pie. I told you that you should be working closer to home, not driving three hours to see your family. That incompetent husband of mine recently opened up a factory and we'd be happy to arrange a desk job for you. Smaller pay, but closer to home. What could a ton of money do anyway if you can't see your family every week-"
That's enough bullshit for you for a day. You'd rather drown yourself with mud than listen to them criticize from head to toe.
"I think that's my phone." You forced a smile, getting up as fast as you could, "I'm gonna go check."
"See, I told you a busy job can do you no good..." One of your aunties yelled behind your back, before gossiping in a low voice with others.
What you didn't see (or hear, for that matter) is that Steve apologized swiftly, leaving the couch and following you.
Eight months ago
Steve accompanied Bucky to his graduation ceremony that day. Being around the same age, they chose a path in the military at the start, though Bucky had a severe injury to his left arm and had to leave the sergeant program after only a few months. After some rehabilitation and trying a handful of jobs, Bucky decided to head back to university and study criminal law in order to become a police officer, or a district attorney if he's not fit for police work anymore.
Steve, on the other hand, was luckier. He stayed in the sergeant program and got assigned to the States right before Bucky's graduation. After three tours and a surgery to collect bomb shells from his leg, the Army decided he could be a drill sergeant on the New Jersey Base, responsible for training new recruits before shipping them overseas.
Anyhow, Steve pulled Bucky into a big hug when the ceremony was over. He whistled and nearly clapped his hand numb as Bucky beamed at him in a black graduate gown.
"I guess I'm the smarter one of us now." Bucky smiled coyly, punching Steve in the chest, "And the luckier one too." As he fished a cute girl in gown by her wrist and introduced her, "This is my girlfriend Wendy. Wendy Stone. Wendy, Steve."
She reached out shyly to shake his hand, "Hi Steve. I've heard a lot about you."
And as if Bucky was the magnet, attaching people like coins in a line, you slipped through the crowd patting Wendy on her shoulder, "Your phone. You almost forgot - Hi Bucky, I'll be out of your hair in a minute."
Bucky's palm flew to his forehead, gasping out in shock, "Damn. I haven't introduced you two yet. Steve, this is Y/N, Wendy's cousin. Y/N, this is my best pal Steve."
Five months ago
You had hung out with Steve a couple of times, but only in the presence of Bucky and Wendy. Wendy and you shared the same apartment, so it was nearly inevitable for Steve to bump into you when looking for Bucky, or Bucky asking both of you to join Game Night for you four to know each other well.
Steve grew fonder of you, nonetheless. He loves the laughter whenever you hear a silly joke; he loves the way you make a face to him whenever Bucky and Wendy getting all gooey and clingy, making both of you feel like the third and fourth wheel; he loves your optimistic and can-do attitude, whether it was Wendy having a bad day at work, or when the pipe burst in your apartment.
Before he opened his mouth that day, sharing a pot of coffee with Bucky during the quiet morning of a Sunday. Bucky cut him off, saying Steve's line, "You should ask her out."
"You think I should?" He gulped nervously, counting the larger bubbles on his coffee.
"Dude, why do you think I've asked you on these game nights stuff?" Bucky snorted into his mug, "You practically glued your eyes to her the day you met. It's hard not to notice."
"Thanks...?"
"Don't thank me yet, punk. I've asked Wendy about her. She's one tough-" Bucky paused before continuing, mulling over the semantics, "Is it degrading to say son-of-a-bitch? Because Wendy said the exact same words. Anyway, according to Wendy, she doesn't really date a lot. And her work is crazy as hell. Plus, they came from the same family, cousins from their mother's side. They are a hard-to-please bunch of people, and Wendy heard that her father's side was even worse."
Steve didn't really take the last line into consideration back then. Still, asking you out was one hell of a mission, worse than the tour he had in the middle of some desert. It took some persuasion and some more coaxing ("good-measured coaxing", Bucky insisted) to get you on the first three dates. But from that point forth, everything has run smoothly, until now.
"You alright?" Steve closed the door behind him. Your tiny room seems smaller with his broad shoulders larger than the door frame.
"Yeah." That's a lie. "Another few hours and we'll be left alone." You swept away the invisible dust on your jeans, murmuring.
That's why you don't like your relatives. The smell of grease and tobacco rose from the backyard where the men were drinking and smoking, more revolting than the way you remembered.
Steve pursed his lips tightly into a line, "Are they always like this?"
You huffed out an unamused laugh, "At least we were related. You should have seen how they treated my mom."
"That's why she's in the kitchen?"
An unimpressed glare threw in his direction, "She enjoyed that, believe it or not. Cooking and cleaning and homemaking." Raising your chin towards the kitchen, "Blamed me about 'not doing my part' just now."
"Why don't you-"
"Stand up against them?" You knew what he meant. You did. You tried. But they would always accuse your mother of not "teaching you properly".
"They are bullies, Steve." You shrugged, pretending that it didn't bother you at all, "They'd do anything to make sure we get all those nasty comments. And the moment any one of us stand up against them, they'd ask my parents to force me to apologize."
Steve crossed his arms, furrowing his brows again.
"Look, my mom is ... old-school. So are all of them. She nags a lot but she'd be sad if I'm not here to support her during this family reunion. But reunion means all of them, so..." You held his wrist, resting your head on his shoulder, "family comes first."
He took you into his arms, landing a kiss on your forehead.
You craned your neck to smile sweetly at him, as if nothing had happened, "Let's get back to the living room before they mock me for being a baby about it."
Surprisingly, for one full hour, they weren't able to make a comment about you - plenty of comments about Steve since your three cousins had arrived. More comments about your cousins. Gossips about their neighbors. Judgements thrown around on their men and your mother's cooking.
"... your daughter better have clarity on herself." Your grandmother pointed at your mother, drunk on her third cup of wine, her words slurring, "Steven....s Steve, here, is way out of her league. And she needs to maaaarry him before some s... ska... skank butts in."
Your mother eyed you, mouthing silently, asking you to eat rather than reply, before coming up with a polite smile, "Of course. But young people have their own opinions on marriage, and I suppose it's only fair that they figure it out themselves."
One of your aunts waved her fork too hard, sending a piece of chicken into the air, "Oops. Ma's right. And you need to have a kid soon, sweetie. Marry him, and have a kid. Your body is a ticking clock. Don't turn deaf towards it."
"I'm surprised you were able to get a boyfriend, let alone... this." Another aunt gestured at Steve, "You've never been the pretty one, cutie pie, and you sure ain't now."
You put your hand on Steve's thigh to calm him. You could feel his muscles tensing and his jaw clenching, not so subtly. You shook your head lightly.
Don't give them what they want. You hoped you were able to convey the message.
"Oh my oh my," the last aunt chuckled, "we are not going to witness some cheesy scheme of renting a boyfriend here, are we? I heard from my daughter Jean that it's quite popular these days. You know, it's not that embarrassing not to have a boyfriend, I mean, we all thought that way-"
Jean, being one of your cousins sitting by the table, chose to munch her food in silence rather than responding to your aunt.
"That's enough." Steve placed his napkin on the table, folded it back into a triangle before he spoke, "All of you." His rigid tone from the military days seeped into his voice, having the conversations on the table stop for the moment. Taking your hand beneath the table, he watched every person on the table with a serious expression, "Our relationship is none of your business, and so is her appearance. I see a beautiful, strong, independent woman, and I pity you for none of you were able to see her the way I do. Because you were so focused on yourselves, comparing everything about you to make you feel less pathetic. "
A brief pause.
"You didn't say anything about your daughter owning a clothing store, inherited from you, that barely gets by." He looked at the aunt who called you "fat".
"No one said anything about your son stuffing potato chips in his mouth and being unemployed, still taking expensive trips with your pension, because he's the son in the family." He points at the aunt who called you "cheap".
"And finally, you know damn well that husband of yours is having his third secretary-mistress. Since that's all the rest of you could hint about this afternoon." He directed at the aunt who thought you weren't "homemaker" enough.
"I hope you'll have the day you deserve." He spat out, standing from the table, asking for your hand.
For the first time today, your eyes sparkled with light. Gladly taking his hand, your rose from the table. Not minding if you have shoved your chair backwards too hard or the sudden movement is not "lady" enough.
"Mom, I'll come visit next week. Promise." A big smile raised the corner of your lips, waving your mother goodbye while the rest of the table watched in silence.
You still had trouble believing this when you got in your car. Steve immediately pulled you into a hug, nudging your neck with his cheek.
"Not so scared about 'impressing' my family now, huh?" You joked, tugging the end of his blonde hair lightly.
"They're going to hate me and you after I dumped every scandal on them." He mumbled apologetically, "Sorry, I hate bullies."
"No." You signed, "I should've be braver and just ... cut them off."
"You did the best you could." He kissed your shoulder gently, looking into your eyes, "You are everything I've dreamed of, and I meant everything I said at the dining table. You are incredible."
"Hold your proposal, Rogers." You teased him, seeing his ears turn into beet-red as you mentioned "proposal", poking his chest with your index finger, "You aren't on your knees yet and I'm not having five babies without five carats."
Steve's face flushed with a shade of pink, looking like a total turnip if it wasn't for his blonde hair. "Five babies???" He gulped, and then, "Does that mean we're having ten babies if I buy a ten-carat now?"
It was your turn to be stunned speechless. Only when he was grinning madly did you realize he was messing with you too. Laughing with tears, you fell into his embrace, "Steven Grant Rogers, you are a horrible person."
A few laughs bubbled from his chest as you leaned back in your seat and buckled your seat belt, "You'll get used to it." He started the engine and changed the subject, "I didn't have much food in your house. Mind if we stop by at the new Burger joint and order something?"
"I almost forgot how awful my mom's cooking is." You set your phone on navigation mode and put it on Bluetooth speaker, chuckling, "I'm starving. Let's go."
Find my The Slumber Party Present Bingo Challenge here 👈
Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fluff#jnmanswers#inbox <3#writing challenge#the slumber party writing challenge
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Writing Bingo Masterlist
for my 1k follower celebration
! BINGO: this challenge is complete !
The Bingo Challenge is officially finished! Thank you all for participating. Here you can find all the requested fics in order:
secret relationship (Bucky)
period cramps (Steve)
presumed dead (Bucky) part two (protective)
one saves the other (Bucky)
cheesy pick-up line (College!Henry!Sherlock)
convincing to adopt animal (Steve)
secret admirer (College!Steve)
“Who did this to you?” (College!Roommate!Bucky - enemies to lovers)
touch starved (Ari)
tending to wounds after a fight (Bucky)
protective (Bucky) part one (presumed dead)
verbal fight (Bucky)
mind reader (Bucky x Enhanced!Reader)
miscommunication (Bucky x Enhanced!Reader)
#1k follower celebration#writing challenge#bucky barnes#steve rogers#henry cavill sherlock#ari levinson#enola holmes imagine#steve rogers imagine#henry cavill imagine#sherlock holmes x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#winter soldier#steve rogers fanfiction#ari levinson au#ari levinson x f!reader#captain america imagine
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hi, a drabble idea for you <3
You and Steve are training, when he see that your arms are scattered with bruises. When he ask about them you try to laugh it off, telling him its nothing. How will he react?
cant wait to see what you will make from this! <3
Bruises
AN: Thanks for the ask, Tonje! I hope you like this.
Beta’d by @lunarbuck, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me.
Main Master list | Challenge Master list
Summary: You’ve got a training session with Steve, but you’ve also got something to hide.
Relationship: Steve and Fem Agent Reader (Platonic)
Word Count: 1.1k
CW: Fluff, mild angst, attempted assault, canon typical violence, Steve being a good friend, mild pining.
“Aren’t you gonna get a bit warm like that?” Steve looks at you in surprise when you turn up to your training session with a long-sleeved gym top on, as opposed to your usual sleeveless, muscle tee. You try quickly to think of something he’ll believe.
“I… umm… thought I ought to practise in some different clothes. Not always going to have time to put on my specific ‘bad-guy fighting clothes’ am I?” You shot him a smile, but Steve just let out a small grunt before turning away and stepping towards the mats.
“Come on then, Flash. Show me what you’ve got.”
You always enjoyed your training sessions with Steve. Not only was it good to practise fighting against someone bigger and stronger than you, but he was also genuinely fun to be around. You had a good rapport with him but were also grateful that he didn’t treat you like some kind of breakable doll. You had to be able to fight, and it wouldn’t do you, or the team, any good if he didn’t actually swing for you.
Of course, he wasn’t trying to hurt you, but it had to be real enough, and you’d walked out of the training room a few times with bruised ribs or a black eye. These instances had resulted in not only profuse apologies but also the appearance of your favourite take-out, gift packs of luxurious bath supplies, and bottles of beer. Every time you told him it wasn’t necessary.
“Steve, it’s not like I’m gonna get all of this when the villains beat me up.”
“Of course you will, Flash - will just still be from me, not them.”
“You’re a sap, Rogers!”
This current training session was on track to be just like any other, your different outfit notwithstanding. Steve practised with you without the shield, a fact you were grateful for. However, he did use an array of fake firearms and knives, and you had to attempt to disarm him and avoid getting ‘shot’ or too badly ‘stabbed’ in the process.
For once, things were going your way. That was until Steve grabbed hold of your wrist and forearm over your shirt to use your momentum against you. You couldn’t help it - you hissed in pain and clutched your arm to your body, losing your balance and crashing onto the padded floor. Steve was by your side, kneeling over you in an instant.
“What’s wrong, Flash? I didn’t grab you that hard, did I?”
You blinked, imploring the tears in your eyes to disappear before you started bawling in front of your best friend.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. Honest. You just don’t know your own strength.” You let out a fake little laugh, then tentatively placed your hand on the mat to push yourself up. However, pain lanced through you, and you jerked your arm back against your body.
“Liar.” His words weren’t harsh, just concerned, tinged with some playful mocking. “Come on, let me see.”
Gently, Steve eased your arm towards him and slid the stretchy, athletic material up your arm. He froze when he saw your wrist, blotchy and covered in bruises.
“What the hell, Flash? This isn’t from now? These are a day, a day and a half old?” The marks were deep purple, a couple starting to yellow at the edges. “What the hell happened?”
With your free hand, you rubbed the back of your neck.
“Well, umm. I was walking back to my room after a swim, and well, there was this other agent. Let’s just say his momma never raised him to be polite to a lady. And… ummm… he wanted some attention from me I didn’t want to give him, and he grabbed me - hence the bruises - and…”
You saw a look of rage descend over Steve’s face, his cheeks flushing in anger.
“Who was it? They’ll wish they’d never been born. They’ll be praying for Fury to fire them by the time I’m done…”
He started to get up, not really thinking through the fact that he couldn’t do anything without further information, but you stopped him by taking hold of his hand with your damaged one.
“Steve! Sit down. It’s fine. It’s dealt with. I dealt with it.”
He looked at you, sea blue eyes darting over you as if he could use x-ray vision to find any other bumps or bruises.
“How did you deal with it, Flash? Does Fury know? Or Maria if you don’t, you know, wanna talk to a guy…”
He was so sweet. Such a gentleman. His earnestness made you giggle.
“The Director knows. I told him all about it, after I broke the guy’s foot. Stomped on his instep and shattered some of his meta-tarsals. He let go of me real quick. Fury and security found him still lying on the corridor floor, fired him, and then sent him to the civilian ER. Hope he had a long wait time to be seen.”
The corners of your mouth twitched up as you remembered how the creep had screamed as his foot broke. As your Ma always said, “a lady should never start a fight, but she should know how to finish one.”
“But why didn’t you say anything to me?” Steve looked at you with puppy-dog eyes, saddened that you’d kept this from him.
“Cos I’m a big girl, Steve. I don’t need a man, especially you, fighting my battles for me.”
“I don’t mean like that, Flash. I just meant we could have skipped training today so you could recover.”
You glared at him.
“Will Doctor Doom wait? Or Zemo? Or any of the random aliens that like to attack at a moment’s notice?”
Steve folded his arms over his chest and put on his ‘Captain’ face. You’d lost this argument.
“Flash, go rest, please. I need you fully fit so you can take on Doom, Zemo, and aliens.”
“Fine!” You rolled your eyes and allowed him to help you to your feet. “But only because you look hilarious when you pout, Captain.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“Why do I put up with your sass?”
“Cos I’m awesome. That’s why! See you later, Steve.” You waved with your good hand and sauntered back to your room. He always talked sense; you should have put off your training today, but you didn’t want to be seen as weak.
You curled up on your sofa, popped on a wrist brace, and settled down to binge-watch something on the TV. Your arm throbbed. You hated when Steve was right.
About an hour later, there was a knock at your door, but when you opened it, there was no one there. Just a pizza box, some bath stuff, and a 4 pack of beer. You scooped them up with your good arm and took them back inside with a smile and a shake of your head.
If only Steve were more than just your best friend…
Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow
#steve rogers & you#steve rogers fic#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#jen's 1k challenge#challenge yourself#1k followers#late writes#Tonje 🇳🇴
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Sweet Pea - Steve Rogers x Reader
Sweet Pea (Lathyrus odoratus) - Meaning: Thank you for a lovely time, farewell
Summary: While on the run, Steve comes to reader for comfort. What starts as a series of one night stands turns into so much more.
Pairing: Nomad!Steve x Reader
Word Count: 955
Warnings: Allusions to smut, Steve leaving notes and being sweet, domestic fluff, dirty notes and drawings, the Blip, angst, Steve freaking out
Day 14 brings us some fluffy angst with our favorite Nomad!
In Bloom Masterlist
Likes, comments, and reblogs are SUPER appreciated! ❤️
You kept the notes squirreled away in a small box in the back of your sock drawer. Steve always left one, using whatever scrap of paper was nearby. After the first few notes you’d taken to keeping post-its and a pen on your nightstand, which he used from then on to leave you his sweet farewells.
The first few notes were stiff, formal, things like ‘Thank you for a lovely time, Sincerely Yours, Steve’ or ‘I truly appreciate you, Best, Steve’ like he was thanking you for picking up his dry cleaning rather than letting him fuck you into next week.
At the beginning of your relationship, he’d only come by your safe house after dark and would leave almost right after you passed out. The more times he visited, the more comfortable he got and the longer he would linger. Sometimes you’d wake up in the wee hours with him spooning you, snoring adorably, but he’d always be gone by morning, a note left for you stuck to your coffee maker, a full pot already made.
He was sweet like that.
‘Thanks for last night. You’re incredible. <3 Steve’
‘I’ll miss you, but I won’t be gone long. <3 Steve’
‘See you soon, beautiful. <3 Steve’
The little doodled heart next to his name made your heart stutter.
His visits became more frequent, from once every few months to once a month to every other week or so. More often than not, you woke up next to him. The first time that happened you’d shaken him awake, afraid he was late to something or needed to go. He’d smiled his classically handsome smile and simply folded you back into his arms.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he said, voice still thick with sleep. “I don’t have to be anywhere for a while yet.”
A while yet turned out to be two full days with Steve. At first, you weren’t sure about his presence in your house, thinking he’d be bored out of his mind, but he found some home projects you’d been neglecting and did as much as he could in the time he had. The domesticity of it all was a new kind of intimacy that neither of you were familiar with, so there were some awkward moments trying to figure out each other's routines and particularities. But once that initial adjustment period was over, everything felt…natural.
You feared this would be the end of his sweet little notes, but instead of the end the notes started popping up everywhere. Sometimes it was a flirtatious note, sometimes a quick drawing of something silly or pornographic or a reference to something he now understood thanks to your pop culture tutelage.
‘I love your tits in that top ;)’
‘Meet me upstairs when you’re done in the garden’
‘I definitely didn't use the last of the milk, it was a ghost. Who ya gonna call?’
The drawing he did of you pegging a suspiciously Steve-shaped Deadpool was probably your favorite. That one got taped to the fridge.
While he was on the run, you were more than happy to provide him a safe place. His touchstone when he needed a reminder that he was still a human being. A place where he could fully shed the fugitive mantle and act like a normal person.
He gets the call from Nat while he’s rehanging drywall in your upstairs bathroom. They needed him to get to Edinburgh, some weird readings were coming through whatever scanners she had. You were at the grocery store, so he grabbed the post-its from his side of the bed and wrote a note.
‘Got a call from Nat, gotta go save the world again <3 Love you, Steve’
He stuck it where he’d be sure you’d find it, on the fridge, next to the naughty drawing that you loved, and made sure to lock the door when he left.
A few days later, the truck he’d commandeered screeched to a halt in your driveway. His heart pounded in his chest as he thudded up the porch steps and threw his shoulder into your front door, busting it open — he’d fix it later, he had to know.
He called your name and ran from room to room, searching for you desperately. Half the world was gone, and he couldn’t waste another second without knowing if you were one of them.
He’d already lost Bucky. He couldn’t lose you too.
Up in your bedroom he found his answer. On the bed, spread all over his side of it, were all the notes he’d written you. On your side, nothing but a hint of dust. His legs went numb, but they managed to bring him to the end of the bed before he collapsed, gripping the duvet and some of his wayward notes.
Steve couldn’t hold back anymore, so he let the tears fall pitifully — first Bucky, then Wanda, Sam, T’Challa, so, so many others. And now, you were gone too. The one person who could have possibly helped him hold together what was left, had already done that once before after his schism with Stark. He’d come to you shattered and slowly, carefully, you’d glued him back together.
“Steve?” your quiet voice asked. At first, he didn’t move, convinced he was hearing things until he felt your small hand on his shoulder.
He turned, your name falling from his lips like a sacred prayer before he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his wet face in your stomach. More tears fell, but these were from relief.
“You’re alive,” he chanted, voice muffled by your tummy. You shushed him gently, running your fingers through his hair.
“I’m here, Steve,” you promised, “I’ll always be here.”
#writing challenge#fanfiction#in bloom#mcu fanfic#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#the blip#nomad!steve x reader#nomad!steve x you#fluff#angst
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Pain
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader.
Word count: 622 words.
Rating: Teen.
Summary: Steve broke your heart
Major Tags: Doubts, cheating, Sharon Carter.
Additional tags: This is my entry to @flordeamatista Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge with the prompt:
"You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with 'em. Love the way you lie"
You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.
@saiyanprincessswanie.
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.
I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
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You were running as fast as you could; it was as if something was stopping you from breathing. Your heart was pounding like it was going to explode, but you knew it was because of all the feelings pressing on your chest. You had decided to surprise Steve; you knew how to help him so he and Bucky could escape. However, the surprise was for you when, on arriving at the agreed-upon place, you saw Steve kissing Sharon Carter. The pain that shot through you was indescribable, probably worse than if you had been stabbed straight through the heart, making the air dense and unbreathable, as if you were trapped and imprisoned in a tiny place. You froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding in front of you. "You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with 'em," you thought, each word feeling like an open wound in your heart. At that moment, you wondered if you could ever breathe normally again.
Steve slowly pulled away from Sharon, but suddenly his attention was drawn to you. His eyes, full of surprise and concern, searched yours for an explanation he couldn't give. None of that was supposed to have happened.
You tried to say something—anything that could explain your presence there—but the words stuck in your throat. You couldn't bear what you had just seen; you wanted to run away, or maybe give an explanation or pretend nothing had happened, but how could you ignore what you had just witnessed?
Similarly, Steve looked confused, as if he wanted to explain, although he didn't know exactly what to say either.
The silence between you was too much; you were sure that any sound, even the slightest, could be heard. Finally, it was Steve who broke the impasse, taking a few hesitant steps towards you.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret and confusion. "I don't know what to say... You shouldn't have seen that."
Tears threatened to overflow from your eyes, but you forced yourself to hold them back. You didn't want to show him your weakness, not when he had seen enough. You took a deep breath, trying desperately to find the right words to express everything you were feeling at that moment. Even though it seemed impossible, you felt like a fool for always supporting him in everything, for loving him, and for letting him play with your feelings.
"I'm sorry," Steve repeated, moving even closer, as if he wanted to reach out to you but was afraid of scaring you. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You shouldn't have been here."
Your lips trembled before you began to speak. You needed strength and to concentrate on what you were going to say, even though it seemed so difficult. "I don't know why I came," you confessed, the voice barely a whisper that came through. "I thought... I thought I might...". You stopped, unable to finish the sentence, as the lump in your throat threatened to stop you from speaking.
Steve looked at you and reached out a hand towards you, but hesitated before touching you, as if he feared his touch would only make things worse.
"I don't know what to say," he finally admitted. "I can't explain what happened... between Sharon and me. But it doesn't change how I feel about you."
Steve's words left you dazed and confused. How could he say he loved you while he was entangled with someone else?
You turned around and started to walk away. Sometimes love wasn't as sweet as everyone thought it was, and sometimes it seemed like it was trying to drown you, on the verge of stopping you from breathing.
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BunBun's Spooptober Collection
My very first spooky challenge! I'm so excited to share these works with all of you <3
A/N - This was heavily inspired by and is in a way a tribute to Hozier's new album "Eat Your Young." <3
October 6. - In The Woods Somewhere
Vampire!Bucky x Reader
October 13. - To Be Alone With You
Loki x Reader x Muse!Hozier
October 20. - Sunlight
Sun God!Steve x Reader
October 31. - To Someone From A Warmer Climate
Witch!Reader x Demon!Lee Bodecker
#Spooptober#october writing challenge#Vampire!Bucky#Bucky x Reader#Loki x Reader#Hozier x Reader#Steve Rogers x Reader#Lee Bodecker x Reader#bucky barnes#loki#hozier#steve rogers#lee bodecker#marvel#the devil all the time
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