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neonovember · 2 years

Note

Loved loved loved the steve headcanon. If you’re in the mood, I would an expansion on the “steve is the type of man to never let you go to bed angry, even if you’ve both had a fight and he end up on the coach” because I absolutely agreed and I especially enjoyed reading that! Thank you for sharing this husband!Steve HC.

oh yes most definitely! His mind wouldn't rest until he knows you're at peace. Ask and you shall receive (i must say I did get quite carried away). I wrote this at 1 am so be aware of spelling :)

The Steve headcanon

My soul cannot sleep without you

The rumble of the car engine comes to a stop as Steve pulls into the garage of your shared home, the living room light is still on and if you weren't already irritated, you'd mentally smack yourself for being so forgetful. Bills weren't cheap, even on an avenger's salary.

Collecting the ends of your dress you shoulder your way through the car door, slamming it with an oomf for good measure. Steve, of course, shuts his door gently, and it leaves you even more annoyed with him.

Why is he not angry?

You don't dare look behind you as Steve begins to jog towards you, you fear the confusion that has been plastered on his face for the last 20 minutes would make you explode.

You're about to open the door until you remember, he has the keys, Steve is already one step ahead of you, fingers brushing past your elbow as he twists the golden metal into the door nob. You can feel his stare burning into the side of your face but you will yourself not to look his way, to see that look on his face that would have you conceding.

The smell of peppercorn and maple engulfs your senses as you enter your hallway, the soft air of familiarity fails to calm your tense shoulders however, as you pass the framed pictures of you and Steve over the years without so much as a glance.

Reaching your kitchen you notice the bouquet of orchids Steve had bought you earlier today left on the counter, in the rush to get to the compound's charity ball on time you had forgotten to find them a vase.

What flowers would she like?

You search through the kitchen cabinets before you grasp the clear glass, shufflingly through appliances and setting it on the granite counter. You unwrap the orchids, cutting the stems down to fit into the glass vase and filling them generously with water. Steve looks at you incredulously, arms folded as his eyes follow your movements.

"Are you going to say something?" Steve says, his melodic voice travelling through the house, bouncing off the glass vase yet failing to penetrate you.

You begin to clean the stems and spilt water from the counter, ignoring Steve’s attempt at conversation. Did he seriously not realise the brunette practically hanging onto his every word?

Steves's hand grasp your own, stopping you from wiping down the rest of the kitchen, he lifts your chin but your eyes remain downcast, fiddling with the string of the washcloth.

"Can you at least look at me?" Steve says, scanning your face that remained emotionless. His fingers glide across your arms to rest on your cheeks, and the feeling of his hands on you, after she'd touched them has you ripping them off of you. Scoffing, you throw the washcloth into the sink, before turning towards Steve.

"I don't understand, why are you upset? Did I do something?" Steve furrows his brows, his hands gripping his pants as if he's stopping himself from reaching for you.

You scoff at that, "You can't be serious Steve, you are one of the smartest people I know and you can't notice something happening right in front of you?"

He shakes his head, eyes squeezing as he opens them, you notice him scanning over the events prior, but it comes up empty and it has Steve looking more confused than before.

“What's her name, huh Steve? At least tell me her name” You whisper, arms folded as the shimmers of the dress begin to irritate you.

“What? Who?” Steve replies, stepping closer to you

“Who? The brunette who was hanging off of you the entire night Steven” You groan, you hated facing your insecurities, much less voicing them.

There is a momentary pause in Steve as his mind backtracks to the evening, sifting through the hundreds of faces he’d seen tonight, he finally realises who you're talking about.

Tony’s accountant

“Marianna?” Steve scoffs

“Yes, Marianna” You spit her name like poison, but you can’t seem to get her face out of your mind, she’s taken homage next to the laundry you hadn't gotten the time to do. The way her pantsuit fitted her elegantly, sophisticated and modern, she was the woman of the future. And you were just, well, you.

She could pull off a red lip, something that never quite looked good on you, and the very way she spoke told you she said very few words that didn't ilicitate constant adoration. She didn't need to fill the space with empty jargon, every word had meaning.

The constant comparison had followed you the entire evening, and the past insecurities that you had thought you'd overcome seemed to weigh you down like an anchor, pulling you into the deprecation you knew all too well.

It was fine, you’d get over it until she began to talk to Steve, your husband. you didn't miss the look on her face as they conversed, utter, pure amazement. You knew it because you wore it every day, Steve had a way with people, it's what attracted you to him in the first place.

You felt out of place as they spoke about diplomacy and business, and at that moment you had wished you actually listened when Tony pulled you into one of the many long rants you'd gotten used to.

She wasn't even mean to you as if the playground tactics were beneath her, but it didn't take her calling you a bitch to know the animosity that radiated from her every time Steve had tried to pull you into their conversation. You knew where you weren't wanted and you weren't about to make a fool of yourself. So you left them to it as you sat next to Natasha, who offered you a much-needed drink.

She had noticed your annoyance at Marianna the second she came over, as she always did, and for a second, you wish Steve would too. He was too pure too good, to take notice of the way Marianna got closer and closer to him or the way she bit her lip and laughed a little too hard at one of his lame jokes. The poor man thought she was being friendly, he was oblivious to her true motives.

Natasha held her grin behind an empty champagne glass, snickering when Marianna threw her head back for good measure. You had vented to her there, and she reminded you of the man Steve was. How he was absolutely enamoured by you and you only, how you had him wrapped around your finger so tight he wouldn't even think about looking at another woman that way. It was all things you knew deep down, but that didn't stop your brain from imagining the worst, that he was deep in an affair with his co-worker, and you were the dumb clueless wife who waited for him at home.

You wouldn't let that happen again, not after all those years of betrayal from an ex, you wouldn't let yourself be made a fool. Pride had a way of getting in between reality, and you let it stew you in anger until you were mad at Steve instead of her.

Steve shakes his head, moving closer to you,

“She's just Tony’s accountant, we chatted for a few, that's all doll” Steve replied, carding a hand through his blonde locks. Reasoning, however, doesn't seem to be on your mind tonight as you remember all the lies you've been told starting with she.

She’s just a friend, she’s just an assistant, she’s just...

“Well, she seemed to have taken your attention for the whole night, while I was left drinking champagne of all fucking things with Natasha. She was meant to go find her date for that night, but instead, she was with me” You replied looking towards him in anger.

“Well, I tried to include you in the conversation, but every time I asked for your opinion your mind seemed as if it was a thousand miles away!” Steve replied swiftly hands gesturing around.

“Yeah, because she was laughing every single goddamn time I opened my mouth, god Steve, can't you see what she’s doing?” You replied even faster, swallowing down the brick that began to form in your throat.

“What, what is she doing, I thought I was having a conversation with a colleague, but you seem to know better” Steve quipped, his jaw tensing and his shoulders seized.

“She wants you, and you’re either too blind to see it or already fucking know it” You replied, muttering under your breath.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head, eyes scanning your face as he remains silent.

“Is your silence meant to mean I was right?” You yell, tears beginning to gather on your waterline and you have to pinch yourself to get force them to remain there.

Steve’s eyes never leave your face, the cerulean orbs darting left and right, and up and down as if trying to understand your benevolence. His arm twitches as if he wants to gather you into his embrace and forget this entire evening.

“How can you say that” Steve replies, after a short while, “I was courteous, polite for god's sake, you know I would never do that to you” Steve moves until his hands grasp your own. They’re warm to the touch like he always is, and they begin to soothe the coldness that has begun to take over your body.

It doesn't help though, instead, it reminds you of the times you've been told that your insecurities were imaginary, that the unfaithfulness in your relationship wasn't real. That you, instead were harbouring a secret, the anger you felt then turned to guilt at your own self for even accusing him of cheating. If you were told enough times that your reality wasn't yours, you’d start to believe it.

“Yeah well, the only person I can ever trust is myself” You whisper, spitting the words out and unlatching yourself from Steve's grasp. Steve looks down at you in shock, betrayal and hurt falling over his features, whilst yours turn to stone.

He closes his eyes before opening them again, nodding as if he accepted your anger.

“Fine, I’m taking the couch,” Steve scoffs, ripping off his tie and placing it on the counter, before walking into the living room the loud stomp of his shoes vibrating through the quiet house.

You turn to the discarded tie, grasping it into your palm, the texture of the material felt velvet against your fingers. It was a plain tie, one you'd find anywhere, but it was the first tie you'd ever gotten him. You'd gifted him many over the years, all of them more expensive and chic than this one but he'd told you you'd have to pry it out of his cold dead hands before he would give it up.

It was his lucky tie because you were his lucky girl.

Where you still now?

The satin pillow dampened with your tears, you hadn't waited to even close the door before you were muffling a sob that broke out of your throat. Since then, the tears never ceased, you had to shove your face into the covers to make sure Steve wouldn't hear you.

Sleep was fruitless, you had tried everything, but you lay there, like clothes on a washing line, wrung out and left to dry. Your mind wouldn't let the image leave, her fingers grabbing his bicep as she laughed, the way he grinned as his humour got praised.

Was that it, had she given him more attention? More than you?

A billion reasons clamoured your mind as you pushed your fingertips to your eyelids, wishing that you hadn't even gone to the charity ball at all, save the humiliation just for your mind only.

Deep down you knew, you knew that this was all the insecurities of your past coming forth from their hiding places. Steve was the best person in your entire life, he would never, his stupidly good heart wouldn't allow it. But that was just it, he was too kind and nice and good that people like Marianna were able to sink their claws and have their way with him however they wanted.

He thought they were being friendly, but they knew they weren't.

Hours seem to pass before you find the room illuminated with the light of your phone in your palm, your chest feels tight and uncomfortable and you don't know how much more of this you could take.

Tapping onto the folder named “him”, you are met with hundreds of photos of you and Steve throughout the years, starting from the very few dates you had before he claimed you as his, till the wedding night when you both had stayed up to take out the millions of pins in your intricate hair.

In all of them, every single one, Steve displays the same adored, content look of utter satisfaction and love, his eyes sparkled with it, like the sun glittering against the gentle waves and folds of the sea. An endless pool of longing that seemed to have depth only for you, to crash and fight and turn inside and out for you.

Your relationship was never easy, but Steve has always, always been the anchor that brought you back, he never gave up, even when you pushed him away and left him in the dark. Even when the fear of loss and hurt caused you to scream things you didn't mean and do things you shouldn’t have.

You flick across to a photo of Steve looking towards you, a soft grin lighting up his face as you held Clint’s newborn, you were cuddled up on a seat, your knees tucked into you as you were sucked into the guilty pleasure of red fat cheeks and baby fever.

Sam had captured it without Steve looking, sending it to you a couple of days ago with the words ‘Someone wants to be a daddy’. You’d laughed it off but each day you'd come back to that picture. Back to the moment when Steve looked like he had never loved something harder than you, as if it was his first time ever really feeling it.

He loves you, you know? I knew it the day he met you, he has this look on his face, where his eyes get all glazed over and his fingers are reaching for you. It’s like he can’t breathe until he can hold you, like his body will break in two and his heart will stop.

Natasha had told you that one night on the terrace unprovoked, with a beer in her hand and the moonlight falling over the both of you. She had been there from the start, had found you when you were still a shell of a person, back then you didn't even know what love was. You fear if it wasn't for her you and Steve wouldn't have ever met.

“Steve would never do that”

The sounds of her voice those hours ago ring in your head. It was true, your entire time with Steve told you but what thing, he was not your ex. He was kind, and soft and held you like you were glass and he'd crush you. And then suddenly, as if a switch had been turned in your mind, the light of a dark place turning on you realise how utter fucking foolish you had been.

Steve’s faith in you never faltered, even when it should have he never felt a reason to distrust you, it was foreign, it felt strange to have someone utterly and fully hand their trust and soul to you. And what had you given him in return? Accusations and anger.

Did he think now, that you did not trust him? That he had failed to show you how you should be loved? How he would never hurt you?

Those men from your past would never amount to Steve, and suddenly you felt you would die right in this room if you didn’t move. If you tell Steve he was enough and that you believed him and that the vows he uttered held true. Every hair on your body itched with this need until the covers were thrown across from your body and your phone was discarded on the bed.

You swung open the door, the cold hair hitting your face and you stumbled through the dark, you run down the hardwood stairs, the haunting reality of your actions following you, you had been so so foolish.

Steve is there, his frantic motions walking towards the bedroom freeze as he notices you. His shirt is crumpled and unbuttoned, and his golden hair is ruffled, the strands falling over his face as if he's run his fingers through it too many times.

A look of desperation and longing paint his features as he watched you, hands shaking at his sides as he sinks his canines into his reddend lip. You wanted nothing but to hold him now, and the thought bring you to tears, blurring your vision until you miss a step, your heart dropping into your stomach as you brace yourself, waiting to meet the cold hard ground of the kitchen floor.

It never comes, instead, heated, carded muscle wraps around you, and you the smell of Steve, of earth and pine cones has you crying into his shoulder.

He came to you, even when you had screamed at him to leave,

He came to you.

Fresh tears slide down your cheek and you grip Steve, whose fingers softly rub your back, hands tightening around your waist.

“M’ sorry, so sorry Steve, please” You hiccup, covering your face into his shoulder.

“Ssh, my sweet girl, I know” Steve whispers, never seizing his gentle caress. His hands lift your face from his neck, thumb gathering the tears at your waterline. “I know, it’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe for me, hm?

“In and out, can you do that for me?” Steve breathes out, eyes straining as he watches your shallow breaths ease into semi-normal respiration.

Without a word, Steve collects you in his arms and walks through the house until he enters the bedroom, shutting the door with his foot, eyes never leaving your face as he gently places you onto the now cold bedsheets.

You shudder, reaching for him as he slides in, arms wrap around your sides as he continues his light motions on your back, his fingers come to move your hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

You turn around swiftly, hands reaching to cup his face before you’re met with his reddened eyes, it's your turn now to brush away the tears before pressing your lips to his,

‘I should never have, Stevie, you, I-, you would never” You whisper against him his chest, the soft rise and fall lulling you into a state of haze and exhaustion. He presses his forehead to yours

“I just want to hold you now, god, I don't know what I will do if I don’t hold you” Steve replies muttering the words painfully. You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself into his stomach as his biceps surround you. The sound of Steve's heartbeat, the rhythmic badum badum badum, engulfs you with a sense of tranquillity you hadn’t realised you couldn’t live without.

Steve, your sweet boy, was the one thing you couldn’t live without, without Steve, next to you, holding you between his arms, you don't think you would ever quite find sleep. Not anymore, not after him.

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whore-for-chris-evans · 1 year

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And She Was a Goddess (Steve Rogers x f!reader)

[Warning: body image issues; mentions of abuse and if you squint, manipulation; insecure reader; nudity; light innuendo at the end. Lemme know if I missed a warning]

Summary: Some conversation between you and Steve led to him setting up his canvas to draw you naked, but somehow you can't seem to find the perfect pose. Turns out, that's not where the problem lies.

"You know what's messing with us?" Steve peeked at you from above the straight line of the canvas. You had been shifting around for fifteen minutes trying to get comfortable, you both knew it wasn't exactly working.

"What?"

"You're tense. Nervous."

You nodded slowly.

"Okay," his frame appeared beside yours swiftly as he took one of your hands, your bodies touching nowhere else. "It's okay to be tense. Can you tell me exactly what's making you tense?" he asked gently, soothing your nerves with every caress of his voice in the quiet night.

You thought hard for a while, trying to zone into specific parts of your worry. "It's my first time being naked in front of anyone."

"Alright, that's understandable. We can take all the time for you to feel easy right now. We have all night. You have to trust me. And trust yourself."

"I'm worried that…" You hesitated, then changed your words before they came out, "that the painting won't come out right." Your eyes widened as you realised what you were implying. "Not that I'm saying that you can't-"

"Calm down," he chuckled, the melodic sound taking you to heaven, "I know what you mean. Listen, if it doesn't go the way we thought, there's always more paint and paper. And the rest of the weekend. We'll figure it out."

"I'm thinking…I don't make a beautiful muse." You whispered so quietly he would have missed it if not for his super soldier hearing.

He looked into your eyes and then looked around the room, gaze settling on the full length mirror. "Come here," he tugged you to your feet effortlessly, "You see that thing?"

"Yes, why?"

"I want you to go stand in front of it. Facing the glass."

The soft but dominant tone of his voice had you nearly buckling at the knees. He had a way of bringing out the submission in you that you didn't even know existed. The submission you were delighted to have found. You had finally brought yourself to trust him with your life and heart. As a child, you always had to look out for yourself, running from your abusive family, running from a malicious neighbourhood; as a teen, from people who only wanted to use you for everything you could offer.

Being able to give everything up to this man, to completely surrender to him and let him control the decisions for even a brief period of time was freeing for you, ironically. Not having to decide meant not having to worry. That you were safe with him. Sheltered.

So when he responded to your confused glance with a gentle push in the direction of the mirror, you obeyed him without asking any questions, terrified as you were of the reflection surely awaiting your insecure gaze.

Looking at the woman who stared back at you, you couldn't help but point out to yourself just how badly made she was. How was that beautiful?? How could anybody want that basic looking creature? Want to hold that anything but shapely body? How could someone look at her-

"Now," Steve all but jumpscared you as his face appeared right next to yours, nuzzled close to your ear. A perfect face, you thought. Blessed with hair like fields of corn. Crystal eyes like an ocean in bright summer. Lips like rose petals blown apart. Sharp lines of facial structure that, along with umpteen other gifts of his, had cut through your walls as easily as a knife through water. Dimples whenever he graced you with a flash of shining pearls.

Handsome. Beautiful.

Wanted.

"Now," You were jerked out of your thoughts by the deep timbre, "I want you to look at yourself very carefully, pinpoint exactly which things you think make you anything less than beautiful."

You stared for a while. This was hard for you to do. You had never really focused on a certain part of yourself; you just kept telling yourself that you were unattractive in general.

"I have thick thighs."

"Not really you don't. They look perfect. Here," he raised your arms a little and placed his hands under them, "see this beautiful curve that starts here and runs all the way down…" he ran his hands down your sides, over your hips and further below until they rested on the sides of your thighs, "…to here? Your thighs complete that curve. It's absolutely mesmerising how well shaped you are." Looking at yourself, you found the curve he was talking about. You thought it wasn't so bad. You didn't really get his enthusiasm but whatever, you'd play along.

"Okay," You whispered, moving to get back to the couch.

"We're not done," he held your arms and kept you facing the glass, "You're gonna show me every single thing that's been eating at you. We're ending this tonight itself."

"My nose-"

"Is adorable. You're funny, sweet and kind and your face looks just like that. Your nose too. It's-"

"Blunt." You raised an eyebrow.

"Cute." He stressed. "It's perfect."

Sighing, you turned back to finish your assessment; knowing Steve, he most certainly wasn't gonna let this go unless he was sure you were done. And you wanted to see the painting that hadn't even started yet.

"I'm fat." You breathed out nonchalantly, feeling ready to cry inside.

"Seriously?"

"Look at me Steve, look at all that fucking belly fat," You snapped. You had had enough of this and truth be told, you didn't even want him to paint you anymore, naked or otherwise. Not tonight. You were contemplating sleeping on the couch but Steve would probably just carry you back to bed with him. And while you really wanted to be left alone, you also didn't want him out of the house.

Your anger, which had started to simmer, sizzled again at the sound of a laugh. A lighthearted, breathy laugh that cut through the silence just like his shield did. You looked up incredulously and glared at him, your back now to the mirror.

"You've seen Greek sculptures, right?"

"The fuck - yeah, I have of course, why?"

"Have you ever seen Aphrodite?"

"I…don't think so."

"She has belly rolls too. Did you know that?"

"You're bluffing."

He walked over to the coffee table to pick up his phone. Normally Steve Rogers absolutely wouldn't rely on that stupid rectangular thing for a picture, but his Greek and Roman art scrapbook was at his apartment, so he had to.

Pulling out a photo of the sculpture he wanted to show you, he returned to you, turning his screen so you could see for yourself that he was not, in fact, bluffing. There were multiple sculptures of her, showing exactly what he was trying to tell you.

"Whoa."

"She was a goddess, darling. And to me, so are you. You're my goddess," he held your hands and kissed your knuckles, devotion and admiration bleeding out through every single one of his actions and words.

Your lips split apart and curved upwards after what felt like forever.

"Do you get how beautiful you are now?" He huskily asked you.

"I'm getting there," you answered in all honesty.

"Good," he kissed your lips lightly before asking, "ready to be my muse again?"

"Let's do this," you grinned.

You didn't get to put your clothes on again until next morning - Steve had more ways of admiring you than you thought, more physical ways. The painting? Well, it took way longer than that to finish. And when it was, you knew exactly how he viewed you. He had depicted you exactly as he saw you, and if that was the image of you in his mind, you didn't really care what anyone else thought, even yourself.

[Self-indulgent much, Sapphire?

Yes, pretty much so.]

@royalwriteroftheuniverse @peace-love-fanfiction @nana1000night @sarahrogersevans @wolphfeather @hawkeyes-queen @simpforsupersoldiers @jesevans @almosttoopizza @mainly-marvel @icantthinkofanyoneelseimsosorry

#steve rogers #steve rogers x f!reader #Insecure!reader #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #I wrote half of this then my brain turned off and I fell asleep #When I woke up I had lost the flow #Finished it two days later and I'm still sleep-deprived #Anyway look who wrote stuff again

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darsynia · 1 year

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Sneak Peek: Shipping and Handling Ch 2

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: There’s a chance you and Steve aren’t the only people dealing with the strange chemical bond from Mistress, so you agree to submit to daily tests that should help Dr. Banner figure out what’s happening, and maybe how to stop it. The problem? Seeing each other every day brings a new set of side-effects that both of you hide from each other and Banner until things come to a head– not just for the two of you, but also for the man who has to deal with you: Bucky Barnes. Length/Warnings: 451 words for the snippet / Mentions of sex acts Minors DNI

Chapter posted either tomorrow or Monday. Finally some Bucky PoV!

“You practically knelt down in front of him. Take pity, will you Doll?”

Bucky only realizes the endearment after he’s said it aloud, and to minimize the damage, he clenches his jaw and twists his lips into an inconsequential smile.

It doesn’t work.

“You’ve never called me that before,” you say, your lovely eyes lit with surprise and something else, something he shouldn’t be looking for.

Gruffly, he says, “Really?” It’s a shut-down tactic, because people are much less likely to elaborate on something they’re uncertain over. He maximizes its effect by leaning down to examine the oven door, which is indeed fucked.

“Really. I liked it, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft. “Looks like you’ll be needing these menus, I doubt the stove is kitchen rated with the door off! Come on, I’m sure Steve is going to be hungry when he shows back up.”

Are… you joking about what Steve’s doing in his room right now? Bucky lunges over to block your way out of the kitchen. The shirt you’re wearing smells like the detergent he and Steve use, and something about smelling Steve on you sends heat straight to his groin.

He really should’ve punched Banner, too.

“What?”

“Are you sure you want everything out in the open?” You look at him, uncomprehending, and Bucky’s a hypocrite, because there’s no way any of what he’s been thinking about lately can be in the open.

You’re shaking your head at him. “I don’t--”

Bucky grips the doorframe so tightly it gives a little under his metal hand. “He’s jerking off in there. He’d only do that while we’re waiting out here because he has to. If he comes out here and you make a comment like that, he’ll feel guilty for--”

“--weeks. Maybe forever. Shit.” you interrupt. He pushes off from the door to let you pass, and you continue; “Banner seemed certain that the… intensity was because we’d spent those two weeks apart, but this is--” You break off and drop the pile of menus on the dining room table with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m really worried it’s going to be untenable, but then I remember all the people out there this could happen to, you know?”

Bucky nods toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, where Steve is probably touching himself right now. “Is that the 'untenable' you’re talking about?”

Your face wrenches in embarrassment, eyes closed, and you nod. Because he doesn’t want to go through this whole ordeal without some amusement at his own expense, he says, “There are two bedrooms, if you need to borrow mine? You know where it is.”

#stucky x reader #stucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sex pollen #darsy twirls the tropes #preview #series: safe in my (our) arms #the readmore cut keeps moving and i'm insecure AF so it's all under the cut now sry about that

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bucky-boo-bear · 2 years

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⍟ Steven "Grant" Rogers ⍟

Jealous much(sub!Steve x softDom!reader) Summary: At a party, jealousy gets the best of you and smut ensues.

Double Date (Steve x reader) Summary: Bucky forcefully took Steve on a double date. How will it end for Steve

Dumbass couple for their daughter(Stucky x reader) Summary: Stucky's daughter gets her first period. The idiots freak out and go to their housemate for help.

It's never enough(Steve x reader) Summary: There is no barbeque, just him sitting on the dining table with some take-out containers, waiting for you. It’s your favorite. Why do you bother Steve? Everything’s gonna end the way it always does.

Birthday boy (Sub!Steve Rogers x reader) summary: Steve gets some action on his birthday. Maybe more than he asked for.

[Main Masterlist]

#steve x reader #steve rogers #steve x y/n #sub!steve #stucky x you #steve x bucky #steve rogers smut #stucky #insecure steve #steve fluff #pari's wrote and written

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tothe3nd · 2 years

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Steve Rogers x Plus-Size Reader

Steve’s never been too shy but he’s always been a little anxious. He’s way better at giving others advice than following it himself, and if given the opportunity then he’ll make subtle comments rather than speak directly.

Because he’s had his own insecurities, for sure. He started out being constantly called “scrawny” and “weak” and suddenly he’s a hell of a lot taller and bigger — even if he fits society’s stereotypical ideal now, that’s a massive change to go through and he can’t shake that.

So he’ll make sure you know you’re wanted from the start, even just platonically asking you for your opinions and thoughts, your preferences, making sure you’re included and that you feel comfortable enough to speak your mind. Anything that makes you insecure, he’d want you to feel confident about.

Of course he’d love for you to ask him out. But if he can tell that you’re holding yourself back, then he’ll go ahead and ask you instead.

(He will remind you that it’s inner strength that got him through everything, not the judgement — no matter how positive — of others.)

If you ever want to open up about your insecurities, he’ll sit and listen patiently because you deserve to be heard. And then, when you’re done, he’ll chime in with whatever he thinks would make you feel better: if you want, he’ll tell you about his own self-image, or he’ll just remind you that you’re beautiful, that your size doesn’t make you any less so and it doesn’t dictate your worth, and that anyone who puts you down for it isn’t worth a dime.

Besides, he’s never given much thought to the mean-spirited and unjust comments people make — except when he decides to fight them — and if you ask, he’ll tell you that as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.

#steve rogers #plus size reader #insecure reader #x reader

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lythea-creation · 2 years

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Pathetic - Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

summary: You gained weight after a bad injury from a mission. Now you have to deal with the aftermaths.

warnings: food issues, self-worth issues, depression mentioned

word count: 749

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“Don't you think you're adding too many nuts to your yogurt bowl?”, Tony questioned.

“Don't you think you should be busy with your own lifestyle instead of mine?”, I shot back.

“Was just trying to help. I mean … you did change over the last few months”, he noted.

Why did he feel the need to comment on my body? Yeah, I had gained weight over the last four months making me look pretty chubby as I was barely a healthy weight anymore. But the past months had been hard and he had no right to comment on me like that.

“You unfortunately didn't. Still the same arrogant asshole”, I snapped and left with my food.

After getting severely injured during a mission I had gotten depressed. I had always had phases throughout my life where I had felt that way but becoming an Avenger had definitely helped. Laying in bed without being able to do anything myself had been devastating for me and I had tried to get rid of my feelings by eating. It was not like I had had anything else to do except sleep.

Now I had to deal with the consequences and I had just finished my first workout after the long break. It had been long since I had felt so weak and pathetic.

I stopped in the hallway to decide where I should eat.

Honestly my appetite had completely vanished after Tony's comments but I knew that none of my problems would solve themselves if I did not eat, rather the opposite. My body and mind needed the fuel especially after the workout. Otherwise I would stay weak as hell.

For a moment I considered joining Wanda and Steve in the living room, but ultimately decided to retreat to my room.

A sad and heavy feeling settled in my stomach when I sat down next to my bed. It felt like the last months had somehow distanced me from my friends. Sure, they had visited me from time to time. But mostly it had been Natasha who had been with me, and Wanda whenever Natasha had not had time for me.

Absentmindedly I poked around in my food and forced myself to take a bite every now and then.

A knock resounded on the door before it opened.

“Hey (f/n), why …? What's up?” Natasha immediately noticed my bad mood. She was a well-trained spy after all, and my girlfriend.

She sat down next to me, a worried look plastered on her face. “Are you not feeling well? Was the workout too much?”

“No, the workout was okay. I'm weak but I pulled through”, I mumbled.

“What is it then?”

Tears blurred my vision as I shakily put the bowl aside.

Natasha immediately inched closer to me and took my hand to give me some comfort.

“Just look at me. I'm disgusting and pathetic. My body is completely useless and ugly now”, I stated with a shaky voice.

“What? Who told you that?”, Nat questioned obviously upset.

“I won't tell you. You will just hurt him”, I assumed.

“Because he deserves it”, she muttered. “Yeah, you gained some weight. So what? You were going through a rough time and eating was your way to cope. I distance myself when I feel down. Steve exercises too much. Wanda finds it hard to eat anything at all. Everybody deals with things differently. You don't need to feel ashamed just because other people force it upon you. Everything that matters is that you do the best you can to be healthy. That's all that matters. I still love you and it hurts me to see you hurt.”

A soft smile captured my face. “Can we go on a walk together? I'd love to spend some time with you outside of my room after laying around here for weeks.”

“Sure, but first you need to finish eating”, she reminded me and leaned over me to get my bowl and hand it to me. “And you still need to tell me who got you into this state.”

“Nat ...”

“Fine, don't tell me. But if I find out who it was he's gonna regret it”, she proclaimed with a grin plastered on her face.

Being the sneaky spy she was she found out soon. I did not know what had happened between them, but Tony had never been nicer to me than now.

#natasha romanoff x insecure reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x depressed reader #lgbtqia +#romance #hurt/comfort #marvel #tony stark #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #food issues #angst #fluff #love #coping mechanism #injury #depression #avengers

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 4 months

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.⋆｡What I Cannot Give You｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her

Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort

WC: 2.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.

You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.

“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.”

You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head.

Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.

“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.

“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness.

“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.

“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.

“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.

Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.

Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.

“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.

But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.

“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.

“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.

“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.

“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.

“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.

“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.

You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.

“Then what is?” She implored.

“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.

“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface.

“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.

Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring.

“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.

“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.

“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.

Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.

——————

Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.

Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.

Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.

Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.

You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward.

And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.

“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.”

“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside.

In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.

“Steve-“

“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.

He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.

“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.

“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.

You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.

His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.

His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.

“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”

“But Sharon-“

“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”

Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.”

“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.

“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.

“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.

“That’s my good girl.”

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tempestuous-lush · 1 year

Text

perfect || steve rogers x f!reader

summary: reader breaks up with steve over insecurities regarding lack of experience. he insists she is perfect, and proves to her just how perfect she is.

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, multiple creampies, brief size kink, brief daddy kink, virgin reader, hints of a darker steve, blowjob. I think that’s it?

misc: just know, never written steve before so this is VERY new for me. I’m trying to move past my comfort zones. Also this was written on my phone, so. If the format is off that’s mostly why.

also some people I think may enjoy this, @sweetieswiftie @a-bang-for-your-bucky @grippingbeskar @castlesnchurches

You had broken up with him via text.

He didn’t respond well to that. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand what he had done wrong. So, he went to the nearest flower shop and bought a dozen brightly colored dahlias…your favorite. The next thing he had done was go out of his way to get takeout. It was your usual order from the Vietnamese place you had brought him to. Last, he stopped to get you a book. He knew you were reading a series, and decided to get you the next one in the series. Then he found himself at the door of your apartment. He was nervous. Clearing his throat, he knocked.

You pulled the door open without checking, the one thing Steve always got on you for doing. You spoke first, “Steve, I just br” -

“I brought a few things so you might let me in, and tell me why.”

This was the last conversation you were wanting to have. Yet, you knew Steve and he wouldn’t just step away. So, reluctantly, you stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. The aroma of the food he brought followed him to the kitchen, and you smiled at the thought of him going out of his way to get you one of your favorites.

Then your eyes registered flowers as he turned and offered them to you. You looked down with a shy smile before taking them from him, whispering a thanks. Steve’s eyes stayed glued to you as you walked around the tiny island to open it and pull out a vase, filling it with water to drop the flowers inside.

You decided to place the merry vase on your coffee table and as you moved them around in the vase and didn’t look at him, Steve spoke up, “So, are you going to tell me what went wrong? Because last I checked, we were doing wonderful. More than that even.”

You looked at him then, your cheeks redding as you thought of why. You hugged your arms to your torso and Steve looked at you, patiently waiting. There was a reason you broke up with him through text message and you were hoping to avoid this conversation. Desperately. Your eyes were beginning to water and you looked away. Steve stood there, still as a statue. Reluctantly, you come clean, “Look at me, Steve.”

Not understanding, a bit of a laugh escaped him before he answered, confused, “I am.”

“No…look at me. Why do you want me? No one else ever has. I’m not thin enough, not social enough, not bright enough, not…good enough.”

Steve’s face was scrunched with confusion, before he shook his head, “I’m not understanding.”

He watched as you threw your head back with a frustrated sigh. You stomped off to your bedroom in a dramatic fashion that would have been adorable under different circumstances. He bit back his smile. Then, just as swiftly as you exited, you came back and threw a magazine at him. Steve turned to the page you had dog eared and saw a photo taken of the two of you. You were walking into headquarters in streetwear. He didn’t see the issue until he saw the caption.

Captain America Dating Grunt

You watched as he read the article, words ripping you apart and pointing out everything you’ve ever had an insecurity about. When he was done, his hands made quick work of ripping the pages apart. He crossed the space between you and you stepped away, “They’re not wrong Steve…I’m not a good fit for you. Between the looks and the lack of experience, I’m not exactly batting the best.”

Steve came to a still. His blue eyes pierced through you, “You’re perfect.”

“I just…literally anyone else could be better for you. And don’t even get me started on reading everywhere in gossip columns how you should be with a model or the elusive redhead in photos that we both know is Natasha. It’s tiring.” You averted your gaze and picked at your nail beds, an old nervous habit that Steve knew was your bluff. You were lying about something. He just wasn’t sure what.

Instead of hiding it though, he called you out on it, “That’s a lie and we both know it. C’mon beautiful, those comparisons never bothered you before. I know that’s not the issue.”

You knew it wasn’t the issue, too. No, the truth was, the night before last the two of you had gotten much closer and that terrified you for more than one reason. For starters, you were already well in love with him and terrified any time he went on missions. What would happen if you became even more attached? Was it even possible? Then, what if you were bad at it? Sure, the heated kisses and level of intimacy already were wonderful, but you didn’t really know what to do besides that. And, part of you was insecure. What if he didn’t appreciate or even want the full package once it was opened?

Biting at your lip, you mumbled out, “I’ve also…never had sex.”

Steve stared at you in disbelief, his blue eyes taking in the blush on your face.

“I’m sorry?”

“God Steve, I know you heard me.” Your eyes landed on the floor. That seemed the safest option at this moment. Though part of you felt like you might spontaneously combust at any moment. Tears pricked at your eyes in embarrassment.

A small smile hinted at the corners of his lips before he cleared his throat, “I’ve only ever had sex once sweetheart. It’s not like I would have much comparison myself. What if I’m god awful?”

Your head shot up. Only once? How could that be the case? You blinked away your forming tears before sniffling, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better. Look at you. Who wouldn’t be trying for that? You’ve had to have offers.”

“Well, I didn’t get many looks before the serum, and afterwards I was a bit busy with war. It was right before I ended up on the front lines though. So, roughly eighty years ago…” he winced at the way that sounded before laughing, “And now I feel old.”

You found yourself feeling a little better. A laugh escaped you before adding, “You are…but I like that about you. You’re the only grown man I’ve met that likes to dance with me.”

“Sweetheart I will do absolutely anything with you.”

A fierce blush spread across your face and you cleared your throat, “Wanna help me eat the food you brought?”

“Only if it means you’ve rescinded the breakup.”

“I suppose I acted with haste.”

“You can say that again. And just know, I will never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.” His hand found yours, engulfing your small hand in size and warmth and comfort. That was just Steve.

The two of you sat at your small table in the kitchen and ate in peace with one another. You moved to clear the table and Steve stood and began to help. You moved in comfortable silence. Though, there was an odd electricity in the air, knowing what each of you knew now. And, as he brushed your hair back and kissed you goodbye, his lips lingered on yours and you ran a hand through his hair before deepening the kiss.

He chuckled deeply as he broke the kiss, thumb stroking your cheek, speaking softly, “I have to say, there is no way you’ll be bad at it, and there is no way I won’t enjoy it. But I have to go sweetheart. Bucky and I are getting shipped out in less than an hour now, but I couldn’t leave things the way they were. You’re too important to me.”

He kissed you again on the cheek and you called out once he turned around, “Hey.”

Steve looked back at you, a smile spreading on his face as you said three words, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I will see you when I get back, yeah?”

As you nodded, your heart feeling lighter with your revelation, he left out and you softly closed the door behind him, whispering, “Be safe.”

Steve made it in record time to the military air strip, weaving in and out of traffic on his bike. When he pulled up he saw Bucky already there. Even as Steve climbed off the bike, Bucky was impatient to learn, “How did it go with your girl?”

“Well, she said she loved me for the first time…” Steve wasn’t sure how much to divulge to his best friend.

Though, over the course of the mission, Steve accidentally slipped up on just what the problem was. They were at a small cafe grabbing a bite to eat when Steve slipped up. Bucky put his food down and looked at Steve incredulous, “No, there’s no way. A girl that looks like that” -

“Hey, watch it!”

“Steve, I was just saying, I don’t believe it. There’s no way no one has really tried before.” Bucky remembered when he first met you, how if you were anyone else’s but Steve’s he would have tried to take you away.

Steve was getting uncomfortable with the conversation though and dismissed it, “No it makes sense. She spends so much time at work and in that lab. It’s the only reason I met her when I did. I was with Natasha and she brought me with her. Said she needed to pick up some new equipment. But now? She was absolutely trying to fix us up.”

Bucky nodded as he finished his meal. As Steve went to take another bite, Bucky offered his unsolicited advice, “Eat with enthusiasm.”

Steve choked a bit on his last bite and once he cleared his throat gave Bucky a shove, his friend laughing playfully.

Meanwhile, back home you paged Natasha to come and meet you in the lab. When the redhead got there, looking around as though expecting to see a reason she was there, you waved at her and stated, “Natasha I need your help.”

She walked over towards you and cocked an eyebrow when she saw your face already getting red, “Everything okay?”

“I, uh…I don’t know what to wear for an…event.”

“Okay, well, what’s the event?”

Your blush spread to your ears and you timidly showed her your phone screen. You had been looking at lingerie. It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were incredibly out of your depth. Which is when you called her in. Natasha tried to bite back a smirk but you could hear it in her voice, “And what an event it is.”

“I wanted something special but also everything I’ve found just feels a bit…”

“Much?”

You nodded, feeling relieved she understood and also kept you from over explaining.

Natasha reached below your work space and grabbed your purse and nodded to the door, “Take the lab coat off and come with me. You’re taking a personal day and I don’t think anyone will mind.”

A week later found you looking at your phone in your apartment, nervously eyeing your last text received. As much as I want to go home and shave before you see me, I missed you too much. On my way to see you.

You had slipped into what you and Natasha had settled on as soon as you received his message. To cover it, the two of you had decided on a loose fitting silk slip dress in a light pink. You tied the nude colored silk sash around your waist. It still baffled you that stockings could cost so damn much, not even acknowledging the rest of it. You had always been a mismatched sports bra and panty kind of girl. A blush spread over your cheeks as you thought of what you were wearing. Huffing, you looked up at the ceiling and spoke to no one but yourself, “Get it together, girl.” A yelp followed as a knock interrupted your self talk, and you could feel your heartbeat already beginning to race.

Walking to the door, you looked through the eyehole and your breath caught in your throat. It was Steve. You fumbled with the locks long enough for it to be noticeable. Was that sweat on your palms?

By the time you got the door open, Steve’s face held a questioning look. That was, until he drank in the sight of you. His tongue reflexively licked his bottom lip, blue eyes traveling slowly up your body until they rested on your face, “Jesus sweetheart, you look incredible. I hope you didn’t get dressed up just for me though...”

Looking down to hide the new blush erupting on your cheeks, you took a step back to let him inside.

When you looked back up, you felt your insides clench at the sight of him. He had a beard. His hair had gotten the tiniest bit longer. Something about him not looking as polished as he normally did had your stomach fluttering. That was when you realized you were just staring, your mouth slightly open and eyes glazed over with lust. Snapping yourself out of it and doing your best to ignore his knowing smirk, you cleared your throat and responded brutally honest, “You're exactly who I dressed up for.”

You winced at the way it sounded. You turned and walked away, face in hand, wondering just how red your face could get. Steve let out a sympathetic laugh before walking in behind you and closing the door. He sat on the couch as you went into the kitchen. You opened a bottle of Pinot noir and poured a rather…healthy glass. Taking a sip you called out, “Want anything to drink Steve?”

“No I’m good sweetheart.”

Letting a sigh escape, you downed the entire glass before dry heaving at the feel of so much red wine at your throat before chugging water. Walking into the living room, your eyes immediately fell on Steve.

At first you were looking at his face, tired and eyes closed. However, soon your eyes fell lower. Your mouth ran dry. You had never understood the excitement over sweatpants weather. Until now. Resting between his legs was the larg-

-“well sweetheart I came here to see you, so come over here please?”

Pulled as though by attraction alone, you found yourself standing before him before straddling his hips. Your fingers were shaking as you threaded them through his hair, whispering, “I missed you.”

Before you could think, you found your lips slowly working on his neck. A groan escaped him as you continued along his shoulder. Your hands grabbed hold on the back of his biceps before you rocked your hips slightly, experimenting.

Steve’s hands instinctively grabbed at your thighs to try and steady you, to try and slow you. You looked at him, studying the face you knew you loved more than you thought possible. His blue eyes looked at you, silently questioning. It had you thinking of what you wanted. Him. Leaning forward, you whispered softly to him as though scared anyone else might hear something so private, “I’m yours, Steve. And I want you to take what’s yours.”

The two of you stared at one another in silence, your turn to smile at the disbelief on his face. He only snapped out of it when you rocked your hips forward again. His fingers wrapped around your thighs as he stood and picked you up. A shriek of laughter at the unexpected movement escaped you before his lips found yours, your own hands weaving into his hair to eagerly return the gesture.

As Steve backed you into your bedroom door, you let go of his hair to open the handle. Just as you did and broke the kiss Steve asked you, “Seeetheart, are you sure?”

“I am sure, Steve. Just promise you’ll still love me after?” Just as you asked, your door opened and the two of you fell through. His lips were once again on yours, answering your question with a kiss.

You landed on your bed with Steve on top of you. Your legs parted for him immediately to make space and his hand ran along the outside of your thighs, pausing where the stocking gave way to soft lace. He buried his head in your neck at the same time. Possibly to hide his own blush. But then you heard his voice, teasing and affectionate, “Did you wear these for me sweetheart?”

Just as he asked you, he bucked his hips into you. Both of you were still clothed. You suddenly realized there was too much fabric in the way. And yet, the feeling of his cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants elicited a moan from you. Steve nearly whines as he repeated the action, another lustful sound escaping you, before whispering, “Such pretty stockings for such a pretty girl. Gonna keep them on you, is that alright?”

There was a question. Yet, you weren’t sure what it was as Steve’s free hand caressed your face before kissing you again. The pressure on your lips was bruising but it didn’t matter. You just needed more of him. Your hands found his back, clinging to him as he continued dry humping you.

You were so quick to respond. It didn’t take long for your arousal to spread through your body, soaking your pretty nude panties and leaving a damp spot against his sweatpants. Then, the smell of you reached Steve just as he grunted at the feeling of your arousal wetting his sweatpants. You smelled divine. You felt heavenly. Now? He needed to taste.

Steve’s mouth slowly worked down your neck. You moaned as his tongue grazed over a sensitive spot on your neck that neither of you knew you had, licking along the soft line of your clavicle, before he placed a kiss between your breasts.

It was there that he paused and looked down…wanting to know what you looked like. This dress, as pretty as it was on you, was in his way. A soft smile as he glanced up to you before muttering apologies had you confused until his hands made easy work of the dress, ripping it down the middle. The soft silk pooled around your sides as he let go and his blue eyes roamed over you before huffing, “Sweetheart, I will say it again and again till you believe me. You’re perfect.”

Something shifted in him and he fell onto you, mouth hot and hungry as he explored your body. His wet tongue on the delicate lace cup of your bra as he kept rutting against you. Another moan tumbled from your lips before it turned into a desperate whine, his tongue through the fabric igniting your core.

Steve was running on autopilot now, thinking of everything he had wanted to do for so long, your pretty little sounds driving him on. His hands pulled at the cups so that you spilled out. His mouth closed over your nipple, the direct contact causing you to arch your back…getting closer to him. Cool air hit your damp nipple, causing it to peak. Steve’s mouth fell to the other, his fingers lightly pulling and twisting at the one his mouth abandoned.

That combined with the way his cock grinded against you was sending you somewhere you hadn’t been before. You had cum before but suddenly your own fingers felt so lackluster as they clutched to his back, your nails giving him pleasure in an unexpected way. And then, just when you felt yourself on the precipice, Steve’s hand came between the two of you. His mouth continued sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin and his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, the slickness of your arousal making it far too easy to slip his middle finger inside of you.

Just like that, you called out for him, your cream covering his thick digit as he pulled it from you.

You watched, equally hypnotized and mortified as he pulled back and sucked that finger into his mouth, licking it clean. A soft smile was on his face as he looked down at you, his voice coming out almost strained, “Yeah….perfect.”

It was only then that he looked down at himself, arousal evident, that same teasing affectionate voice from earlier surfacing, “And you thought I could possibly not want you, sweetheart?”

Your eyes were large as you looked at him. Timid at first, never having done this, you hooked your fingers around his waistband before pulling them down. His cock was heavy as it fell free and you were suddenly intimidated by the size of it.

On your hands and knees before him, Steve sitting back on his heels now, you slowly smeared the precum coming from his top down…surprised by just how soft the skin was.

Steve moaned at your slight touch. His head fell back, eyes shut, relishing at the tiniest amount of contact. What he wasn’t expecting was what you did next, sucking on the head of his cock while lazily dragging your hand down. A hiss escaped him before he looked at you. Your ass was in the air as you dragged your tongue around him. It was like you were teasing him with it. Come and get me.

The movement surprised both of you. You, because it felt so good to be stretched just a bit more, and him because it forced you to take about half of him into your mouth. Steve made to pull back but you were so encouraged by the noises he made that you had the opposite idea in mind. Instead, you took more of him into your mouth and Steve cried out, “Fuck!”

It sounded so unlike him, so uncharacteristic. Grunts came from him as your head moved up and down. A growl came from him. And suddenly he was giving you praise that you never expected to hear from him, “You look so pretty like this. Gonna leave that delicious cream on my fingers again, this time with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

“Oh g…Steve!” His words, his fingers, were driving you crazy.

You took him back into your mouth just as you came, the vibrations of your moans causing him to follow behind you. You eagerly sucked down everything he gave you, the taste of him salty on your tongue.

He slowly pulled his fingers from you, again watching him lick them clean. You felt your pussy flutter when he took them away, a whine escaping you that wasn’t missed by him. He helped you lay back down, your legs once again eagerly splayed open for him. A soft smile appeared on his face as he slowly ran the head of his cock along your folds, “I have a confession sweetheart.”

You were confused, “A…confession?”

“I planted a bug underneath your bed one day, a few months back, and I’ve touched myself listening to you whimpering around your fingers, knowing how much better you’d sound with your pretty pussy taking me. Does that bother you?” His confession had you more aroused than anything and you shook your head no while bucking your hips up for friction against his cock.

“After I claim your pretty little pussy, you’re mine in every way. Are you ready for that?”

You felt your pussy weeping with arousal at the anticipation of it. Frantic, you shook your head yes before barely managing to say, “Yes. M’yours.”

Steve shifted and slowly pushed his cock inside of you. You cried out at the stretch before commenting, “S’not gonna fit.”

“Oh it will sweetheart. You’ll be taking all of me soon, and then you’ll feel so good and full.”

His thumb fell on your exposed clit, the stretch he was already inflicting on your pussy giving him easy access. He rocked the first few inches back and forth inside of you while rubbing circles around your sensitive bud. Steve shuddered a bit. Even this bit inside of you felt like heaven. He screwed his eyes shut and muttered, “Gonna cum already sweetheart. Feel so good. Are you…oh god.”

He couldn’t finish asking if you were on birth control before his cum was filling you, his still hard cock pulsing inside of you. Steve bent his head down and took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing further inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before begging, “Fill me with your cock Steve. I’m ready. I - oh fuck - I need you.”

In one fluid motion he pulled you up as he sat back, impaling you on his cock. You cried out at the sensation before instinctively rocked your hips with a moan, settling skin to skin.

Steve held your face with his hands, checking in, “Is everything alright sweetheart?”

You nodded before commenting, “I never expected something to feel so right.”

“Gonna lay you down now sweetheart so I can see my cock fucking you. I’ve wanted it for too long.”

He kissed you deeply before laying you back down and leaning back. He pulled out of you, his semen from before spilling from you, before he pushed back in and watched a bulge in your lower stomach appear. He slowly rocked before pressing on the area where his cock was moving, causing you to spasm with pleasure. Excited by your response he picked up the pace, “That’s my cock deep inside you sweetheart.”

The words escaped you before you realized but it didn’t matter. Steve had heard you before when he listened in…your pretty little voice begging. He didn’t expect you to feel so comfortable so soon though, “Feel so good buried in me daddy.”

Steven doubled his effort at your revelation, fucking away any doubt that what you said was wrong. At his sudden increase you felt your orgasm hit you. You were calling out for him, skin slicked with sweat, nails scratching along his back. Steve swallowed your cries hungrily as he leaned over to kiss you, his second orgasm rushing over him. He gasped out, “G-gonna cum sweetheart. Gonna fill your pretty little pussy with me.”

“Gonna fill me up till I can’t hold anymore daddy?”

Steve growled out, “Fuck.”

At that, he shot his cum deep inside of you, stilling for a moment with his blue eyes fixated on you, “See? Fucking perfect. And mine.”

As he claimed you with words you felt his cock stir inside of you once again.

“Yours. Only yours, Steve.”

As he drove his hips into you, he hung his head, “I was so eager, I forgot to…eat with enthusiasm .”

Feeling emboldened, you used his moment of uncertainty to flip him to his back…sinking down onto him just the slightest bit more. You looked down at him before rolling your hips, “Plenty of time later, Steve. I’ve waited too long for this.”

The two of you spent the next few hours like this until finally, your pussy was too tired, too bruised.

You lay there in the bed, your leg and arm over him with your head on his chest. All of his cum was slowly leaking from you and down your thighs, though there were also splattered with it from him fucking your breasts too. He traced an imaginary pattern on your back as he whispered, “I love you so much, sweetheart. I’m yours.”

A chill ran down your back for some reason as he added, “And you’re mine.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #captain america smut

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navybrat817 · 3 months

Text

Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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cthulhu-calling · 5 months

Text

New Perspective

dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: What happens when you wake up in a bed that isn’t yours, next to a man who was supposed to have gone back to the past?

Warnings: dark fic, dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, smut, rape/non-con, l-bombs, friends with benefits

Author's Note: This is a dark Steve Rogers x f!Reader story. Sit this one out if it isn't for you. Please consider the tags before proceeding, this is your final warning, I am not responsible for the content you consume.

Word Count: 2,216

ao3 link

Steve Rogers Masterlsit

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

He looked down at his feet, not able to meet your gaze. Slowly nodding his head, still not looking up, he reaches out to hold you in his massive, trunk-like arms and you let him.

You and Steve had always been close, even if he was quite cold and standoffish when you first met. What had started off as a simple and pure friendship had developed into something more dark and dirty.

In the day, he was your close friend and Captain but at night, he was your refuge. Nights spent with hot, sweaty, limbs tangled in each other, rough fingers tugging at your hair as you drew pleasure from each other’s bodies.

Your arrangement was unconventional, sure, but it’s how you both liked it. No strings attached, just sex. You both had far too much going on to even consider an actual relationship with someone, so you helped each other out during lonely nights.

To say you would miss him was a massive understatement but you knew he deserved to be happy. Happy with the love of his life, Peggy Carter.

Pulling away, you gently cupped his cheek before brushing your lips lightly against his. “You deserve happiness Steve. I won’t hold this against you, but don’t you dare forget about me.” you whispered as you playfully narrowed your eyes at him, poking a finger at his chest.

He huffed out a laugh at your poor attempt at jest before pulling you close to him, searching your eyes for something more.

“Steve, I am happy for you. After all that you’ve done for the world, you deserve a chance at being truly happy,” you said, offering him a genuine and what you hope was a reassuring smile.

Looking lost, he gently nodded his head before pulling you towards the bed. One last time , you thought to yourself as you gave in to him.

One last time, or so you thought.

Steve hadn’t meant to fall in love.

What started out as a simple arrangement of friendly banter and arguments by day and animalistic fucking by night ended up becoming the most passionate affair of his lifetime, and that in itself was saying a lot.

You were the one for him. He knew it and he believed it was high time you realised it too.

But you? You were as clueless as they came. It was getting a little infuriating at this point, if Steve was being completely honest with himself.

It was cute at first. How you would act as if you didn’t realise that he loved you. He bought right into the whole faux innocence act and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him achingly hard and desperate for you. To have you on top of him, your tight little dripping hole stretching to accommodate his thick length as you moan and mewl wantonly.

But even after months, when you failed to acknowledge how in love with you he was, it started to anger him. How you would have a flirty back and forth with Sam, or brush a perfectly manicured finger against a random stranger’s arm at the pub, bending over slightly while pushing your elbows together to give them an eyeful of your cleavage. All of it made his blood boil.

So he decided, he had to have you. No matter what.

He wouldn’t find a more perfect opportunity than this. Under the guise of going to return the stones, he had you believe that he wasn’t coming back, that he was going back to Peggy. Surely, that would make you insecure and you’d beg him to come back, beg him to not leave you. It was foolproof, he was sure of it.

But when he told you he was leaving, your reaction shocked him. You weren’t desperate for him to come back, begging him to stay back and vowing to do anything to please him. Instead, you were happy for him.

At first, he couldn’t believe his ears. Surely, you can’t be serious. Did you really not love him?

He was quick to dispose off that thought though. He was the love of your life and you were his. You belonged with him. To him. He figured that it was all an act, to hide how you truly felt. It was then that he decided to take matters into his own hands.

That’s how you found yourself in this predicament; groggy and confused, still half asleep in a bed that isn’t yours. Once you realise the bed isn’t actually yours, the bedding a baby pink as averse to the bright yellow of your own with every square inch covered by one too many pillows, you’re alert immediately. Where are you?

You push the covers off of yourself and just as you’re about to set your feet on the floor, the door at the left corner of the roughly rectangular room swings open, a smiling Steve stepping inside before shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Morning sleepy head. You’ve been out for quite a while now, almost had me worried there.” he sighed the last part, the eerily hopeful smile still glued to his face.

You looked around yourself, taking in your surroundings before looking back up at Steve. You were in a room with clean white walls, a huge bed in the centre of the room with two twin nightstands on either side of it. There were no windows, only the door through which he had entered and that too on closer inspection seemed to be made of thick metal, too heavy for anyone without superhuman strength to even try to budge.

“Where am I Steve? How are you still here?” you asked, you throat scratchy.

“C’mon honey, sit up straight,” he said as he moved closer to you, holding a tall glass of water to your lips.

Gulping down the water, you cleared your throat before asking again, “Where are we? How are you still here? I saw you leaving Steve,” you thought out loud, pushing the thick covers off of your body, suddenly feeling their presence suffocating, only to look down and find yourself in a ratty and oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts, both you were sure you’d seen on Steve at some point in time.

Steve took in your form hungrily, loving how you looked in his clothes.

“You need to relax honey. I’ll answer all your questions, but not right now,” he said as he gently pushed you back on the bed, tucking you in.

“No, I need you to tell me right now. What the fuck’s going on here exactly?” you said, throwing back the covers to move out of the bed but before you can blink, you’re pinned down by Steve’s body.

“I will not tolerate such language from you. You’re mine and you’re going to do exactly as I say, is that clear honey?” he said almost sweetly but you knew it was all an act to hide how angry he truly was. You saw right through his facade.

“Yours? Steve, the fuc-“ you cut yourself off on seeing his glare, “I- I uh, don’t get it. What are you on about?” you breathed out.

“No point in pretending anymore my love, I’m only doing what you were too scared to do. I know you love me, I just had to get you to admit it. What better way then a romantic little getaway. No phones, no one but the two of us,” he said in a sort of dazed voice while you just sat there, slack jawed and wide eyed.

“You-you, uh, you’ve lost it! You’ve gone absolutely mental! I don’t love you, and I’m sorry if I made you believe that I did but you need to let me go,” you said while pushing him back and quickly getting out of the bed.

He grabbed you by your hips, spinning you around and pulling you close so you were right against his chest.

“Stop acting coy, I know you want me just as much as I want you. Can’t you see? We’re supposed to be together, together forever. And while I won’t tolerate how you spoke to me just now, I’ll let it pass just this once.

“I know you’re stressed love, but you’ve got to accept it. You’re the love of my life. You belong to me. ” He whispered the last part slowly as his hands travelled down to the small of your back, grabbing your ass and squeezing it, making you gasp.

His lips attacked yours, swallowing all your protests as he slowly guided you back to the bed, pushing you down on it.

“Give me a chance to prove it to you, make you see how right we feel, together,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses down you neck and chest, occasionally sucking a dark mark, laying his claim on you.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he kept mumbling as his hand reached to tug down your shorts, deft fingers prodding at your entrance.

He rubbed his thumb in figure-8’s around your clit, drawing a strangled moan from you. Arms and legs giving up their struggle as you fisted the sheets, pleasure shooting up your spine.

“Please, Steve,” you moaned breathily and you knew not if you begged for him to stop or for more.

The cheeky bastard had the audacity to act innocent as he slowed his movements, “Please what, my love?” he asked and you could hear the smug smirk on his face.

“Let me go, please!” you yelled, struggling against his hold with renewed vigour.

Smack!

“Wrong answer honey,” he growled as he landed another smack on your bare pussy, making you yelp.

Easily pinning you down, he ran his fingers through your folds before collecting the wetness there, bringing his dripping fingers to your lips.

“Suck.” he ordered.

When you didn’t move to open your mouth, he pushed his fingers into the back of your throat, effectively choking you.

“Bad girls don’t deserve to be prepared beforehand, do they?” he asked condescendingly before he plunged his thick cock into your unprepared channel.

Immediately setting a punishing pace as his free hand grabbed hold of both your wrists, pinning them above your head. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the squelching of your drenched pussy only spurring him on.

“Look at you, dripping for me. You’re enjoying this just as much as me, aren’t you? And yet, yet you deny me of something that can only be right. We belong together, can’t you see?” he said with a low growl.

You moaned around his fingers, the shame of being close to your climax while he forced himself on you bringing tears to your eyes.

Letting go of your wrists, he brushed away your tears, driving himself harshly into your dripping cunt, “Don’t cry my love, don’t cry for something you can’t change. We belong together, and I’ll make sure you see it.”

Making true of his promise, he started pounding into you, deeper and harder, hitting the spot that made your mind go blank, not being able to focus on anything but the pleasure that only his cock could give, that only he could give .

You let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob as you came undone, clenching down hard on his cock, milking him.

Grunting as he emptied himself inside of you, he slowly removed his fingers from your mouth, bringing his lips to yours for a rather chaste kiss considering he’d been balls deep in you just seconds ago.

“I deserve to be happy. You said it yourself, my love. After all that I’ve done for this world, it’s the least I deserve. And we’re going to be so happy,” he mumbled into your ear, more for himself than you as he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, keeping you close to his body as your eyelids started to droop.

Oh, whatever were you going to do now?

#dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dead dove do not eat #smut #love bombing #stalking #cnc kidnapping

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nicoline1998enilocin · 3 months

Text

The beginning of the end...?

Pairing ⇒ Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader x Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes

Word count ⇒ 5.6K

Summary ⇒ Steve and Bucky are planning on proposing, but as they're doing this, they don't realize the two of them are giving you the feeling you're not worthy of them. As soon as they find out, their behavior completely changes, and before you know it, you have two super soldiers down on their knees, asking you to marry them.

Rating ⇒ Explicit (E)

Warnings ⇒ Polyamorous relationship, use of nicknames (Princess, Printsessa),

Angst ⇒ Hurt/comfort, references to anxiety and insecurity.

Smut ⇒ MMF threesome, D/S undertones, sensory play/deprivation (blindfold), discussion of safewords, size kink, dirty talk, oral (F receiving), nipple play, fingering (anal/vaginal), double penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, implied aftercare

Request ⇒ Anon I don’t know if you write this but could you maybe write a story about bucky x Steve x y/n or reader what you prefer. That they are in a relationship but reader feels left out because Steve and bucky go way back together so she thinks they wanne break up while the boys are planning to propose. So reader distance herself more and more while the boys have no clue. In the end they propose to her but I want a good angsty/ fluff story

A/n -> Thank you so much for this beautiful request, sweet Nonnie! I want to thank @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me develop the title, and I want to say thank you to @late-to-the-party-81 for helping me whilst writing this, as well as for your feedback while proofreading. You helped me bring this fic to the next level, and I deeply appreciate it! ❤️

A/n 2.0 ⇒ My requests are open again! Please consider that I only have 24 hours in my day, so it might take a while to get the new requests posted, but I expect to post them around February/March. I'll be looking forward to what you will all come up with, and I can't wait to start writing requests again ❤️

Events Masterlist ⇒ @buckybarnesevents ⇒ BaBB061: December ⇒ Sensory Play/ Deprivation Masterlist ⇒ @stuckybingo ⇒ Kink: Size kink Masterlist ⇒ @lgbtqbingo ⇒ Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers Masterlist ⇒ @marvel-smash-bingo ⇒ ''I love to see you lying there like that.''

Banners: @vase-of-lilies ⇒ Divider: @firefly-graphics ⇒ Photo: Source

Main Masterlist ⇒ Stucky Masterlist

Something between the three of you has shifted. You don't know how, why, or when, but it has. And with that, your anxiety has gone through the roof as well. Steve and Bucky have been spending more time with each other than with you lately, which is strange since they usually can't keep their hands off of you, or each other for that matter. Even though all three of you still sleep in the same bed at night, it doesn't feel the same and you're starting to feel like a third wheel in your relationship. After all, they've known each other for almost a century.

You're watching a movie with only Steve because Bucky is on an undercover mission and is unreachable for at least a week. However, even though you have chosen the movie, you're not watching it. Your eyes look at the TV, but your brain doesn't register what's happening as you're so lost in your thoughts.

"Is everything okay, Princess?" Steve asks when he notices you've been zoned out for a while.

"Yeah, just tired," you say and fake a yawn, getting up to go to bed despite still being early in the evening. Steve looks at you with worry when you stand, but he leaves it be for now; he figures that if something's wrong, you'll come to him.

"Okay, sleep well, Princess," he says in a soft, defeated voice, and your heart aches at the sound, but you will your legs to walk to the bedroom and curl into the comforter on your bed. Not long after, you feel the mattress dip beside you, and Steve cuddles up to you under the heavy comforter. You let out a small sigh as you feel his muscular chest press against your back. Steve places a few soft kisses on your shoulder before he whispers something to you, under the impression you're asleep.

"I love you, Princess. I'm sorry we have to do it this way, but it'll be for the best," he says. With those words, he lays his head down, and you're fighting against your tears. This confirms it for you. He's just being nice to you now because Bucky's not here, waiting for him to return so they can break up with you together. It'll always be them against the world, and they don't have a place inside that world for you.

To save yourself from most of the pain, you decide to spend more time with others or alone in your room instead of with Steve, and while you notice the sad look on his face, he also doesn’t come to you.

"Princess, can we talk for a minute?" Steve asks as you walk into the kitchen to grab some breakfast. He's leaning against the counter in tight sweatpants and an even tighter shirt. You feel a wave of arousal course through your veins and between your legs, as you look him up and down, admiring his physique. You don’t let it distract you from the matter as you prepare for the talk he’s about to have with you.

"Sure, Steve," you say with a slight smile, hoping it looks sincere.

When you have your breakfast ready, he leads you to your bedroom, where you sit on your couch. He takes his place next to you, almost taking up half the sofa with the broad shoulders you love so much -where you scrape your nails when he's fucking your brains out. But that's not what you're thinking of right now, no. Right now, you're bracing yourself for what's to come; the inevitable is here, you think.

"As you know, Bucky is coming home from the mission tomorrow, and I was thinking of surprising him with a relaxing evening with the three of us. A nice home-cooked dinner, a relaxing bath, maybe even a blanket fort and a movie," he says as he looks at you expectantly.

"I- I think I have plans tomorrow night, sorry," you say, and you look at your food, unable to look Steve in the eye right now because if you do, you're sure he'd see that you're not telling the truth.

"Princess, can you please look at me?" Steve asks in a soft voice, and that's what pushes you over the edge, the tears streaming down your face while you sob uncontrollably. Steve reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, whispering soothing words and kissing you again on your temple.

"It's okay, Princess, I've got you," he says, and you can't help but feel incredibly guilty that he's doing this.

"C'mon, let's get a little more comfortable on the bed," he says as he lifts you up and carries you there before sitting with you in his lap. The two of you stay like that until you calm down and surrender to his warmth, feeling safe in his strong arms.

"I'm sorry…" you croak out, and it's a good thing he has super soldier hearing otherwise, you doubt he would hear you.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Princess," he says as he wipes your tears, and after a little while, you agree to welcome Bucky home tomorrow night, just like you always do when one or both of them come home from a mission.

Bucky is coming home today, and you feel both happy and anxious. What if he doesn't greet you the same way he always does? Or what if he only wants to see Steve? Your mind is going into overdrive the closer he gets to finally being home, but you're trying to keep yourself together, not wanting to breakdown like you did with Steve yesterday. When the Quinjet is on approach, you shoot Steve a quick text to see if he's coming, but he says he's wrapped up in a meeting for a while and that you can go alone, so you do.

As you walk to the hangar, you ball your fists up by your sides to relieve some of the anxiety you're feeling, but all you do is break the skin and leave crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You hope Bucky won't see them. When the Quinjet lands and Bucky walks out, you see him searching for both you and Steve. If he's disappointed only to be greeted by you, he doesn't show it. He runs over to you with a slight jog and a smile on his face before picking you up and hugging you tightly.

"Hi, Printsessa! I can't believe how much I've missed you these past few weeks, and I'm sorry I couldn't contact you sooner," he says as he puts you down and grabs your face softly with his big, calloused hands.

"I love you so much, and I can't wait for our blanket fort tonight," he continues before capturing your lips in a soft kiss, which quickly turns passionate as you let yourself melt into Bucky's touch. When he pulls away, you’re smiling too. You're happy he's home because seeing Bucky somehow makes you forget all your anxieties for just a moment or two.However, as you walk back to the Compound, and Bucky tries to hold your hand, you pull away and he stops dead in his tracks, looking at you with a raised brow. Shit.

"What's going on, Printsessa? Did you hurt your hand or something?" he asks and with a small tear rolling down your face, you unfold the palms of your hands, showing him the damage you've done to them. You don't know how or why, but Bucky seems to catch onto things a lot faster than Steve did, as he immediately figures out it's because they have been spending less time with you lately.

"Is- Is this because of us? Because Steve and I are busier with work lately?" he asks softly. He told Steve this was likely to happen and now that it has he feels worse than ever. With a slight nod, you wordlessly answer his question, and his heart feels like it is shattering as he clutches you to his chest. He holds you as close as he can and repeatedly says the word ‘sorry’.

"I-It's okay," you croak out, still crying into his chest. Suddenly, you feel a powerful, broad chest against your back and one more pair of warm hands rubbing your sides to calm you down. Although you don’t see it, Bucky shoots Steve a look of ’I told you so!’ over your shoulder. They're both feeling sorry, even though this was the only way to organize the extraordinary thing they have planned for you.

"Shall we go inside, and take a bath together, Printsessa? After that, we can build the blanket fort, watch a movie, and cuddle," Bucky offers. You nod into his chest, but you're not letting him go, so he picks you up with no effort and carries you inside.

Bathtime with your two super soldiers is always lovely, especially since you have a custom bathtub that fits all three of you perfectly. Steve lets the water run and puts some of your favorite scented bubbles in while Bucky undresses you with kisses on each piece of skin that he reveals.

"God, I can't believe I've missed out on this for so long, Printsessa," he says, and you can't help but preen because of his words. As his lips find your pulse point, sucking softly but still hard enough to leave a bruise, you let out a small moan.

His hands are squeezing the flesh of your butt and spreading them at the same time, giving Steve a little show as he undresses you. Both of them are incredibly hard and when you feel both their dicks press against your body, you can't help but throw your head back against Steve's shoulder.

"Please," you beg softly, although you’re unsure what you're actually begging for. Both men decide not to make you wait any longer, so Steve pulls you close to his chest while Bucky sinks to his knees in front of you. At the sight of Bucky ready to worship you, you clench around nothing, and Steve's warm breath by your ear makes goosebumps appear across your neck. His arms are hooked under yours, cupping both your breasts as Bucky lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder before diving into your dripping pussy. You moan loudly.

"Look at that, Princess, look at how perfect he looks between these delicious thighs of yours," Steve growls in your ear, and it all only serves to arouse you even further, bringing you closer to your orgasm. His fingers find your pebbled nipples, rolling and tugging them, drawing soft whines from your lips. Bucky has both of your thighs in a grip that's sure to leave bruises, but the slight discomfort only leaves you wanting more. More of him. More of Steve. More of everything.

"God, you're just such an easy little slut for us, aren't you? We get you naked, and suddenly, you're like a lost puppy who doesn't know what to do," Steve drawls with a slight smirk. At the same time, Bucky lets his tongue alternate between dipping into your entrance and stimulating your clit, until you're right on the edge. That's when he pulls away without any warning.

"You didn't think we'd let you cum that easy, did you?" Bucky teases, and you can feel the disappointment washing over you. However, it doesn't last long because Steve's lips find their way onto your neck as his hands wander to your waist before turning you around to face him.

"Don't worry, Princess, we'll make up for it in the bath, but you'll have to trust us, alright? We’ll make you feel like you're flying. We’ll make love to you until all you can think about is Bucky and me giving you more pleasure than you ever thought you could feel," he tells you, his bright blue eyes sparkling at the thought of what's to come. However, just as you think he's about to lead you into the bath, he reaches for something on the counter that you didn't see earlier: a blindfold.

"If you're okay with it, I'm going to blindfold you when we're in the bath. We’ll be constantly with you, and make sure nothing happens that you're not okay with, Princess. We’re going to use the traffic light system for this. Can you explain what it means?" he asks patiently, and you nod in response.

"Green means that I'm good, that you can continue what you're doing, and that I'm enjoying it. Yellow means that I might be getting uncomfortable with something, so we stop and have a check-in to see what we can do differently before continuing. Red means I have reached a limit and that I want to stop with what we're doing. This will end the entire scene for everyone, and we’ll move on to aftercare," you tell him, just like you have done so many times before.

Despite this, Steve and Bucky want you to say it to them, whether you're just with one of them or all three of you are together. They’re always mindful of your well-being, both physical and emotional, and they keep an extra eye out for you during moments like these.

''Good girl,'' Bucky tells you and with that all three of you get into the bath. They let you get used to the warmth of the water and softness of the bubbles first, the blindfold still lying on the small table next to the large tub.You're leaning against Steve's chest with your legs stretched out and Bucky gently massages your feet to relax you. They want all your anxiety gone, your mind eased.

Steve joins in, his skilled hands slowly massaging your thighs and a groan falls from your lips when he finds a rather sensitive spot, making him smirk. After they massage your limbs for another ten to fifteen minutes, the two super soldiers share a look,Steve immediately knowing what Bucky is thinking. Bucky leans forward, happily pulling you into his lap and getting you settled as he peppers your neck and jaw with kisses and love bites.

''Are you ready, Printsessa? Steve is going to blindfold you when you're ready, and we're hoping you can take both of us today at the same time. How do you feel about that?'' Bucky explains to you as he looks at you, happy when he doesn’t find any sign of discomfort on your face.

''I feel good about it, Bucky; I want to feel both of you inside me,'' you reply, and immediately after, you're blindfolded, the world around you entirely dark. You can hear the soft background music that Steve turned on, and you can feel two sets of hands roaming over your body. Bucky's metal hand is a stark contrast to his flesh one, even in the water as they roam over your thighs before slipping between them, finding your clit effortlessly.

You gasp at the feeling of the metal on your sensitive nub, and you arch your back, pressing your bare breasts against his chest; your butt is now presented beautifully for Steve, who has both of his hands kneading the flesh as he enjoys the sight in front of him. Your hole is on display, but before he moves to work you open, he needs to hear your consent first.

''Color?'' he asks, and you reply with an immediate green. He reaches to the side of the tub and retrieves a small bottle of silicone-based lube. He flips the top open with his thumb, and you softly gasp at the click. Steve squirts some onto his fingers, ready to start opening you up. He moves his hand to your rim with a soft hum, massaging it with his fingertips until it is relaxed enough to push the tip of his index finger in, working you open slowly. Bucky moves his hand from your clit to your entrance, pushing in two fingers at once. The pleasure you were already feeling heightens immensely.

''Look at you, Printsessa, you're doing so good for us,'' Bucky tells you as he keeps visually checking in with Steve. They know you can handle it but don't want to overwhelm you, so they're extra careful with you. They're both big and they don't want to hurt you accidentally, so caution is necessary. When Steve manages to slip a second lubed finger into you, you wince, and both men immediately stop everything they're doing.

''Color?'' Steve asks.

''Yellow,'' you breathe out. You're having to adjust to him being inside you, but the blindfold over your eyes is making everything more intense.

''I-I need to adjust a little, with the blindfold- I'm just a little more nervous than usual,'' you tell them, and they understand. You take a few deep breaths, giving your body time to get used to what your boyfriends are doing. As you relax, you tell them you’re ‘green,’ and they carefully pick up where they left off. More pleasure blooms through your abdomen as Bucky works a third finger into your pussy, and a loud moan escapes from you as your nails dig into his shoulders.

''Fuck! You both feel so good inside of me,'' you tell them with a broad smile, and you even begin to rock yourself back and forth now that the nerves have disappeared and your confidence has increased. While you were still a little on edge at first, you've now found your footing, and you can feel your orgasm building once more.

''Yeah? Just imagine how you feel when we're both buried deep inside of you, Printsessa, both of our cocks splitting you open as you fall apart on them. Thrusting in and out before we fill you up until both of your holes are dripping with our cum,'' Bucky tells you, and you moan at his words, wanting nothing more than to be filled by them.

''Are you going to cum for us, Princess? Are you cumming on our fingers?'' Steve growls behind you, and with a scream of their names you do, your boyfriends working you through your orgasm with expert precision. They praise you endlessly and prepare you for what's to come. When you come down from your high and are ready for what’s next, Bucky slides down into the bath until the water reaches his shoulders.You straddle him, finding the perfect position so that Steve can also slide in.

''How's this, Printsessa? Are you comfortable?'' Bucky asks, your hands resting on his chest for balance. It's not uncomfortable, but the shift requires you to adjust slightly to avoid falling over onto Bucky.

''Perfect,'' you tell him, and he leans up to kiss you softly. As he does, you hear a soft growl coming from Steve behind you. Your ass has lifted slightly, now only just beneath the surface, as he's admiring where he's about to slide into in a few moments.

''I love to see you lying there like that,'' Steve tells you, and you smile into the kiss with Bucky. When you pull away and sit down, you can feel his length between your thighs, now grown to total hardness. Steve reaches into the water to find Bucky's cock and lube it up; they don’t want to hurt you, after all. Bucky lets out a loud moan as Steve strokes his hand up and down a few times before lining Bucky’s cock up with your pussy. The sensation of his tip against your clit makes you moan as well. Your head falls back as you sink down onto Bucky's length, feeling it stretch you inch by inch.

''Color?'' Steve asks as you sink to the hilt, Bucky's tip hitting your sweet spot.It makes you see stars and your nails scratch his chest in an attempt to ground yourself.

''So fucking green,'' you bite out as you start to grind down on Bucky, whose hands are on your hips to guide your movements. With every thrust back in, you can feel Bucky everywhere, and the fact you can't see makes the experience ten times better. Steve is enjoying the sight in front of him as he generously spreads the lube over his cock. He has ensured you’re adequately prepped, but it will still be a stretch, and he wants it to be pleasurable for you both. After a few minutes of slow grinding on Bucky’s cock, you feel Steve's hands stopping you. He lines himself up to your other hole, which welcomes him in with little resistance.

A loud groan leaves Steve's lips as he carefully thrusts into you, keeping a close eye on your reactions as your body gets used to him. Bucky's eyes are trained on your face as well and he gently tucks some of your hair behind your ear. Your chest heaves up and down at the feeling of both men filling you, but the pleasure only intensifies with every passing second. When Steve slides all the way in with a groan, both men still for a moment, letting you adjust again.

''What's your color?'' Bucky asks you. The blindfold is slightly damp from the sweat dripping off your forehead, but you wouldn't change this moment for the world. Your mouth is slack as you get used to the feeling of fullness; being taken like this by your boyfriends isn't something to take lightly, after all.

''Green,'' you tell them eventually, and with that, Steve sets a slow pace that has all three of you moaning loudly as pleasure courses through your bodies. It doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge of another orgasm; your body was already near the edge from the time Bucky had slid in. With a long, broken moan, you work yourself over their cocks, trying to be the one to set the pace even though you barely have the strength to hold yourself up.

''Let us do the work, Printsessa; you relax. Just enjoy how we make you feel,'' Bucky says, and you nod. You let yourself sink against him, and Steve slides out to change positions, too, so he can be the one to do most of the work right now. He doesn't mind, and as he slides back in with ease, he almost immediately sets a pace that makes both you and Bucky moan loudly.

''Look at you, Princess, your tight holes are welcoming us so beautifully.You look so perfect between us as we fuck you into oblivion,'' Steve says. You’re so small that your body is now completely covered by both men. Steve can feel himself throb inside you, his orgasm nearing fast now and a glance at Bucky lets him know the other man feels the same. It doesn't take long for them to cum inside you, filling you with every last drop of their cum. Once their breathing returns to normal, they carefully pull out, one after the other.

They shift you so that your back is against Steve's chest at the side of the tub, and Bucky kneels in front of you. His long, skilled fingers untie the knot behind your head with ease, and when the blindfold falls away, you look into his eyes, which are filled with love.

''Welcome back, Printsessa,'' he says before kissing your lips gently.

After your bath, all three of you step out of the tub, and your boyfriends dry you off before seeing to themselves. Bucky picks you up, towel and all, and carries you to the bed for much-needed cuddles. When he puts you down, he dresses you in a pair of panties and one of his henleys. He grabs a pair of sweatpants for himself while Steve gets the blanket fort ready to celebrate another successful mission.

''We're fortunate to have you as our girlfriend, you know that?'' Bucky says, peppering your face with kisses as you sit sideways on his lap, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns on his Vibranium arm. You're about to say something in return, but Steve walks back in, and you can't help but glance at his abs, his sweatpants hanging below them.

''Who's ready for some blanket fort cuddles?'' Steve asks, and you jump off Bucky's lap, racing toward it. They always allow you to go in first so you can find the most comfortable spot, but they follow you quickly, ready to watch a movie and unwind together. Not a single worry plagues your mind, and the anxieties you felt over the last few weeks have all melted away. They didn't want to get rid of you, after all.

"Printsessa?" Bucky says as you're curled up in the big armchair in the living room, your Kindle lying on your lap as you read the latest Stephen King novel. You look up at him with a soft smile, which he returns and then walks your way. He crouches in front of you, his metal hand rubbing your knee soothingly and he looks into your eyes with his beautiful blue ones. A wave of warmth runs through your body as you look back at him.

"I want to treat you to a spa day to thank you for everything you do for us. From keeping us safe during missions to being the best, sweetest, caring, and most beautiful girlfriend we could wish for. We're lucky to call you ours, and you deserve a day to relax and let yourself be taken care of," he tells you.

"A-Are you sure? You don't have to do that," you tell him, your hand going to his cheek, your fingers gliding over the stubble. The caress earns you a soft groan as Bucky’s eyes close, allowing the feeling of your fingers to quiet his mind a little bit. He's still feeling bad about how they made you feel, and even though they're trying to do better, they still have a few more things to organize, which is Bucky's ulterior motive for sending you on the spa day.

"I know, but you deserve it, Printsessa. How about this: You make a girls' day of it with Nat and Wanda, and then we'll go out for dinner afterward. Nothing over the top, but we can make it a date night with you, me, and Steve," he offers. You nod in response. It does sound like a good idea.

"Alright, I'll go ask if they have time for a spa day soon," you tell Bucky before getting up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and standing on your tiptoes to reach his mouth for a kiss. As soon as you feel his soft, plush lips on yours, warmth spreads through your veins, and his hands pull you against his body as he deepens the kiss.

His tongue swipes over your upper lip, asking for entrance, which you happily grant before feeling it against yours, moving in unison in a slow, passionate dance. A soft whine escapes your lips as he pulls away, as you don't want this moment to be over yet.

"I think there's someone who would like some attention as well, Printsessa," he whispers in your ear before you see Steve leaning against the doorframe, blocking the way into the living room where you and Bucky are still standing by the armchair, your Kindle long forgotten on the armrest.

You beckon Steve over, and he happily complies. You place your hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to meet you halfway for a kiss in which you're more than happy to take the lead. He follows your motions effortlessly, and when you finally pull away, you have a little difficulty catching your breath as you look into his eyes.

"I love you both so much, but now I'm going to find Nat and Wanda because I have a spa day to plan!" you say before giving each of them a peck on their lips and heading out the living room, on your way to meet your two fellow Avengers. As you turn around to say goodbye, you see that both super soldiers have found their place in the large armchair, having their own moment, and you look at them with adoration, wondering how you got so lucky to have these two super soldiers as your boyfriends.

You're at the nail salon with Natasha and Wanda a week later, deciding what design to put on your nails. Bucky and Steve have told you to get them done however you want, no matter the price, and you decide to go with a set of blue chrome nails. Wanda opts for a red set to match Vision, and Nat goes for sharp, black nails to suit her aesthetic.

When you’re all done, the three of you head to the shops for some clothes.Luckily, you don't have to go far to find the perfect dress to wear to dinner with your boyfriends. In a store window, you see a beautiful black velvet dress that immediately draws your attention, and you decide to go and try it on.

''It fits like a glove!'' you tell both girls as you walk out of the dressing rooms, and their jaws hit the floor as they look at you. You walk out of the store shortly after, not only with the dress but also with a pair of simple black heels to go with it. You're very excited to show Steve and Bucky your new outfit, but they’ll have to wait until just before going to dinner.

''I'm sure you won't make it out of the Compound looking like that. At least you wouldn't if I were your partner,'' Natasha says, giving you a massive boost of confidence. By the time the three of you are heading back to the Avengers Compound, where Bucky and Steve are making the last changes to the proposal, it’s almost 4 pm.

''How're my two favorite super soldiers doing?'' you ask as you walk into the bedroom. They’ve just finished the last necessary arrangements and are sitting on the bed watching an action movie. Steve is between Bucky's legs with Bucky's arms around his waist. His own hands are on Bucky's knees and they melt into each other's embrace. They both look up at you with expressions of adoration as you walk into the bedroom.

''We're doing perfectly now that you're back, Printsessa,'' Bucky says, and Steve nods in agreement. You tell them you're going to get ready for dinner straight away because you want to take your time and make everything perfect. From a dark make-up look to an elegant bun, you pull out all the stops. You finish the outfit with a simple silver necklace, and when it's time to leave for dinner, you meet Steve and Bucky in the living room, where they are waiting for you.

''So, how do I look?'' you ask them as you twirl around, and they practically drool at the sight of you. With a shared look, their plans change; they don't want to wait any longer to ask you to become their wife. They’ll propose to you now, and dinner will be to celebrate getting engaged.

''Princess?'' Steve stretches out his hand, which you take before he pulls you into the living room. Bucky turns on some soft background music on his phone and he fiddles with the ring in his pocket, the other half to the one Steve has in his. They chose matching, stackable rings that fit perfectly together so they could go down on one knee with a ring together.

''Printsessa, Steve, and I are so very fortunate to have you in our lives. We were happy before you met us, but we had never felt this amazing until we met you and you joined our relationship. Our days are brighter because of you, and our missions are less of a burden since we know we will come home to you every single time. Knowing that you're waiting for us is just one more reason for us to fight even harder because we don't want to be away from you any longer than we have to,'' Bucky tells you, and Steve stands beside him.

''I'm going to be honest: both Bucky and myself have done countless stupid things, but asking you to be a part of our lives isn't one of them. I love the traditions we've built together, from the blanket forts after each mission to our weekly dinner dates; we wouldn't change it for the world. We found our soulmate in you, and because of that, we want to ask you something important,'' Steve says.

Both men sink on their knees as you take a small step back, and the small ring boxes open in unison. Disbelief courses through your body at first, but it's true. They are asking you to marry you, and you can't wait for that day to arrive.

''Will you make us the happiest men in the universe and marry us?'' they ask in unison, and a loud laugh escapes you as you nod.

''Yes, of course, I'll marry you guys!'' you say, and they stand up to slide both rings on your finger. They each give you a deep, passionate kiss and then turn to share one with each other. Happiness radiates off all three of you.

''I love you both so much, though if you ever plan anything again, please don't make me feel like you're going to break up with me!'' you told them, and they agree. From here on out, they will do anything to include you whenever possible, and you have never felt more loved in your entire life.

''We love you too, Princess, more than you know,'' Bucky tells you before all three head off to dinner, celebrating the start of the rest of your lives.

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jen-with-a-pen · 3 months

Text

Dancing in the Kitchen

summary: After the worst night imaginable, your best friend helps you when you need him most. What you don't realize is just how much you've always needed him. or: Tony Dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together.

parings: protective!best friend!Steve Rogers x best friend!f!Reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: fluff, angst, self-doubt and insecurity, verbally abusive relationship elements, insults + language/name calling, reader cusses and so does Steve bc he can, no smut!, wearing Steve's clothes (very little to no description about reader's body so do with that what you will), intense feelings, confessions, crying, anxiety, best friends to lovers, intimate touch, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, protectiveness, not Tony Stark friendly, cap quartet mention

a/n: these characters are out of college! It's set in their early-mid 20s following graduating and I thought it'd be a little more relatable (also since I'm not in college anymore I wanted this specific fic concept to be more relatable. self-indulgence and stuff). the cap quartet rent a house together. there might be more shenanigans in the future involving them. maybe. who knows? enjoy <3

If I've missed any tags, please let me know!

gif by @annislittleshopofhorrors | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Everything was cold.

Everything was ruined.

Everything was a fucking nightmare.

Dark clouds shrouded the night sky, hiding helpful moonlight. Rain pelted at you from above, mixing with fresh tears, drenching you to the bone as cold water collected on your skin and soaked through your dress. Your hands morphed into balled fists at your sides as you shook with rage, heartbreak, and the innate need to punch something.

You couldn’t wrap your pounding head around the events of the night; everything blurred together after ten o’clock. It was like a cruel joke, one where you waited an eternity for the punchline, begging for it not to be real no matter how hard you screwed your eyes shut and prayed.

You didn’t want to believe it, yet there you were.

It sure as hell wasn’t the first time you found yourself standing at the backdoor of Steve Roger’s house on the cusp of a breakdown– and a breakup– warring with your own body to simply knock on the fucking door. Hell, Steve was already expecting you. He knew something was wrong the second you called; there wasn’t a warning text, just you, asking in a choked-up whisper if he was home. His response spilled out in a rushed ‘yes’ before you could explain further. A ‘no questions asked’ request, something not uncommon in your friendship. Steve, since day one, was one of your main sources of comfort within a thousand mile radius.

Now, he was your only source of comfort within a thousand mile radius.

Remnants of the phone call from Tony only minutes earlier echoed in your eardrums like a bad case of tinnitus. Annoying, repetitive. His hoarse, drunken slurry of vicious words clawed at the inside of your skull. Another fight. Another screaming match. Another forgotten birthday– this time, it included meeting your family. You’d planned it for months prior, making sure Tony knew not to forget it.

Your insides were twisting in knots as you waited at the restaurant awkwardly with your parents, brother, and an empty seat next to you. After an hour, eight failed calls and fifteen texts later, Tony finally picked up. Delight revived the few butterflies left in your stomach, only to be crushed, turning them into weighted dread as loud club music obliterated your ear drum as he shouted at you.

“You bitch!” he spat. “Why the ever-loving f-fuck are y’blowin’ up my phone for?!”

You didn’t have time to process what he was saying before he’d already reloaded and shot you with more.

“What the hell is sooooo important? Huh? Y-you stupid bitch! You fuckin’ knew I’m busy t’night!”

You tore the phone away. Even at arm’s length, you, and the rest of your family, could hear every single thing he spewed at you. A couple from the table next to yours stopped mid-bite to turn and throw rude looks at you and your family.

“Tony, please, I–”

“‘Tony please’– just shut up!” he mocked. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t fuckin’ care what you gotta– what you have t’say! I can’t f–fuckin’ stand you anymore!”

Hurt and hunger morphed into churning waves of anxiety and embarrassment. Your throat was closing. Tears began stinging your eyes. You looked between your parents in shame, meeting their stunned looks filled with pity and disappointment. Your brother refused to look anywhere but the spot on his plate where he played with his food, sadness and second-hand embarrassment plaguing his face.

Yelling, jeering, and chanting echoed out of your phone. Tony didn’t stop.

“Y’know what? I’m not doin’ this anymore,” he slurred, gulping some unknown liquid down, swallowing, gagging. More cheering. “We– we’re fuckin’ done. You’re out. I’m done.”

The other line fumbled. You winced as you heard Tony wet his lips, preparing the final blow. His breathing became heavy, ragged, hard enough you could smell the liquor through the phone.

“Fuckin’ cunt.”

Click.

You loathed yourself for tolerating him; the endless cycle of poisoning you, providing the antidote, and taking it away when it seemed to get better. The whiplash from his unpredictable moods and personal attacks on you hurt as bad as it felt when he’d come around with endless apologies– accompanied by flowers, cuddles, and kisses– to heal each wound he was responsible for.

This time, though, the stab was fatal. This time, you bled out; it’d been akin to getting gutted and hung helplessly in front of your fucking family.

A sob snuck its way up your throat. You choked it down, willing your fist to reach up and knock on the door. You didn’t understand why this was next to impossible. Steve was your best friend. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. It wasn’t like he’d chastise you or yell at you or tell you to fuck off. Yet, there was a fear, deep down, feeding on the anxiety and self-doubt in the pit of your stomach, telling you the opposite; it whispered to you, telling you to run back to your car, scream into the steering wheel, and speed off to disappear from everything and everyone for just a little longer. It’d only be until you got your head on straight, until you figured out what to do with the apartment and your classes and your stuff and–

Knock. knock. knock.

In the blur of a million thoughts racing through your mind, you automatically reached up and weakly knocked, body tensing every muscle as you waited.

The door swung open, revealing one extremely concerned Steve Rogers.

Steve panted, a result from sprinting down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom in an attempt to open the back door by your first knock. Acutely aware of his jaw hanging from its hinges, Steve’s soft baby blues bore into you, scanning you up and down, stunned at you and your dress and how desperate you looked.

Time stopped the second you saw him; it was difficult to describe, but everything magnetizing between the two of you was different. You felt different– different in the way he was familiar and somehow new at the same time. Steve felt different– different in the way you were single for the first time in two years and he was single since… forever ago.

This time was unlike the million other times.

You both stared. Your lips quivered, his parted in disbelief. Both your minds instantly went blank, unable to think of anything to say, to do. So, the sky thought for you. It opened its floodgates, releasing a torrential downpour as you stood inches from warmth, from comfort.

“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him.

It was then, everything came crashing down.

You crumbled to the ground in a heap, knees buckling while your hand and arms braced for impact with the ground. Steve quickly abandoned his tight grip on the doorframe, catching you, helping you inside. Lungs gasped for air as heavy sobs poured from your chest and tears flowed steadily down your face. You pawed at Steve’s arm hooked around you as he stumbled back into the house, kicking the door closed and collapsing onto the kitchen floor with you in tow. He immediately pulled you closer and hugged you tightly against his chest. You heaved, crying out from the painful pit in your heart, digging your fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. You buried your face into his t-shirt and bawled.

All of it– the rage, the hurt, the mess of balled-up emotions from the last two fucking years– came unraveled. Hands twisted into Steve’s t-shirt, balling the fabric and pulling it taut enough to rip.

Steve didn’t shout. He didn’t complain. He didn’t utter a single word as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets, rocking you gently, squeezing you harder as his chest rose and fell rhythmically against your pounding skull, silently coaxing you to follow his breathing. Blubbering in his lap, stringing words together became futile as thoughts became unrecognizable. Another wave of panic and anxiety crashed over you. Steve’s mumbled shushes softened you; the deep timbre and honeyed bass of his voice and vibrations in his chest grounded you, welcoming you to safety. To home.

“Shh… don’t worry, I got you. I have you. You’re okay,” he muttered, running a hand gently up and down your back.

“I–he–bu–” you fumbled, lip quivering as another sob overtook you. Rage clawed at the walls in the chasm of your chest. You screamed. Guttural, pained. Again. And again.

“Shh… it’s okay, let it out. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” he soothed, rocking you, adding in a lowered octave, “I’m here.”

“T–Tony,” you hiccuped, fists twisting more of Steve’s t-shirt. “He–he–”

“What, angel? What about Tony?”

“He–he c–called me n–names a–and,” you shook your head violently, “he b-broke up with me. For real, this time.”

Steve cupped your cheek, softly wiping away fresh tears with calloused fingertips. While you continued to cry in his arms, his focus turned to the back door you tumbled through. Inside, he seethed; his rage nearly boiled over at the thought of anyone doing this to you, let alone Tony fucking Stark. Out of all the things you’d told him over the last couple years– all the threats, the cruel jokes and abandonment and insults– tonight was the ultimate cherry on top. It validated every time Tony’s actions made Steve think vengeful thoughts on what he’d do if he ever got five minutes with the douchebag. Just five minutes. Alone.

He shook the thought away, looking back down to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him upset, let alone remotely think you were the cause of it. He’d promised himself that the first time you met.

Tony was going to fucking pay for what he’d done to you every single second for the last two years. And on your birthday, for chrissake.

“What–” Steve swallowed the excess rage in his chest. “What kind of names, sweetie?”

You softened, sniffling, refusing to look at him. “He called me a b–bitch, a–and,” you bit your tongue, “a… cunt.”

The moment the word left your lips, Steve fought every last nerve in him not to put you to bed, get in his car, and go teach Tony a lesson on some fucking manners. Hell, even the idea of taking Bucky and Sam crossed his mind.

He pushed the thought away, focusing back on you. You needed him. You came to him for help. No one else but him.

Steve slid his hand off your back and placed it under your chin, thumb and forefinger gently coaxing you to look at him. Big blue eyes swam with concern and worry. In the dark of the kitchen, they seemed brighter than ever– a beacon guiding you back from the hurricane in your head.

In an instant, everything in your head went quiet. No more muffled echoes from the phone call. No more sobs readying to burst out your chest. No more caring about how swollen and puffy your eyes were, or the drying combination of mascara and tear stains running down your cheeks and neck. Your sopping wet dress that drenched the floor, and Steve, was pushed to the back of your brain, the cold no longer leaking into your bones as he brought you back down from the ledge.

All you saw was Steve. All you smelled, all you could feel, was Steve.

Steve swallowed. His jaw slacked, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, slowly drinking you in for as long as he was able.

And honestly? You couldn’t care enough to stop him. It’d been so long since someone looked at you the way Steve did.

Had he always looked at you like that?

“Listen to me. You are none of those things. Not even close,” he whispered, hoping you believed him.

You nodded lightly. “I–I know, but it hurts,” your voice cracked again, eyes drifting away from him.

“Hey, look at me,” he tugged at your chin, “you will never be anything like he says you are. Ever. Okay?”

You stared at him. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you placed a hand on his, taking it from your chin to your chest. Warmth bloomed as it rested against your damp skin.

“‘Kay.” Barely a whisper. Enough for only him to hear.

He paused, gaze holding steady on you, lips twitching at the corners.

“Let’s get you up ‘n out of that thing, yeah?” He nodded to your dress. “You gotta be freezing.”

Gently, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the kitchen floor and pulling you up on your feet. Your legs felt like a wobbly blend of jelly and nerves that forced you to lean onto Steve for support. He anticipated this, catching you and gripping your shoulders. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you clung to him as he guided you through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. You passed by Sam and Bucky’s rooms, both empty for the night, just like Natasha’s downstairs.

As Steve rifled through his drawers and closet, your focus wandered to his messy desk: the lamp cast a soft, warm glow across the room, sitting next to history books and sketchbooks stacked high on top of one another; pencils and dirtied paint brushes littered the surface, products of his latest art assignment. His bed was half-made, dark green covers on one side neatly tucked in while the opposite was thrown aside, exposing gray pinstripe sheets. The walls were covered with scattered art– some his, others his favorite artists’– posters and pictures of family, friends, and some local bands. You bit back a smile. Memories of the shows you both went to over the last few years played like a highlight reel in your mind. You never regretted it; you never passed up a single invite, even after the time Tony locked you out for a whole weekend.

“Here, these are clean,” he handed you a neatly folded pile of his clothes before adding, “I promise.”

A fuller smile broke across your face. The first of the entire night.

“Uh huh, sure, I believe you,” you joked sarcastically. He feigned hurt, scoffing at your false accusation.

“I did the sniff test, if that makes you feel any better.”

You giggled, taking the clothes from him and turning to head to the bathroom.

“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” he called after you. “You, um, you want something to drink?”

You paused, turning to look at him from the bathroom doorway halfway down the hall. From where he stood, the saturated pink creeping up his neck and reaching his face was more visible than the light on his desk. You couldn’t help but hold in a snicker and flash him a relieved smile, thankful.

“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”

Steve smiled, saluting you. “Coming right up.”

You headed into the bathroom, tossing the clothes onto the counter, slumping against the door the second you shut and locked it. Finally relaxing, you realized how much tension was pent up in your tired shoulders– which, in turn, prompted the realization you were holding your breath the entire time in Steve’s room.

Brushing the self-induced lightheadedness, you slipped the ruined dress off your body and hung it up on the shower rod. You hated the color, the texture, but wore it anyway. For Tony. On your birthday.

You cursed yourself, pulling your bra off next– a pushup that held your rib cage hostage the entire night. Just how Tony likes it.

Or, liked it.

You silently prayed Steve included some Bailey’s in your coffee.

Pulling on Steve’s sweatshirt, the scent of him enveloped you instantly. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the neck of it, filling your lungs with the familiarity of Steve. He was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning and freshly brewed coffee. He was a nice night in watching your favorite movies and playing cards.

Your head was swimming, swirling, caught up in the entirety of your best friend. He was yours just as much as you were his. Through Tony, through other guys you’d subjected yourself to the last few years, none of them compared to Steve.

You tugged the sweatpants on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror and realizing the runny makeup staining your face. You snorted at how fucking ridiculous you looked, remembering the caked-on layers you’d put on for the evening. Again, just for Tony. The snort turned into a giggle, utterly grateful for Steve not making fun of how you looked and for ignoring the mascara stains on his poor t-shirt from earlier.

But, again, it was Steve. He’d never make fun of you. Ever.

Butterflies– the ones you’d thought were long gone months prior– stuttered suddenly, alive and fluttering in your stomach.

You instantly recognized the feeling: it was the same you had the day you met Steve.

The same feeling you’d get on roller coasters, or reading an exceptionally good romance novel. Giddiness, dizziness. It was as if you were spinning while the room stood still. Your head felt light, high on helium. Your skin burned. Meeting your own gaze in the mirror, you scanned yourself, the question ‘is this happening right now?’ running on a loop at the forefront of your mind.

Bzzt.

You jumped at the buzz of a text. With the trance broken, you took into account your shaking hands and the bumping tempo of your heart. Turning on the sink, you made sure the water was as cold as possible before cupping some in your hands and splashing your face. Refreshing. Needed. You rubbed the rest of the runny wakeup off your skin, stuffing your face into the fluffy hand towel and silently promising to get the boys a new one. Picking up your phone, teeth chewed on cheek to hold in your smile at the sight of Steve’s name on the screen.

⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told your reflection. “He’s only your best friend.”

The butterflies continued to multiply, bumping against one another, fluttering and escaping out into your chest and your limbs.

“Fuck.”

You opened the door.

⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I was beginning to think you climbed out the window up there,” Steve quipped upon seeing you round the corner into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the stupid grin spreading across his face when he saw you in his clothes. You looked more relaxed, more comfortable.

More like you.

You noticed he changed, too, donning a heather-gray t-shirt that clung to his torso in all the right ways– ways you hadn’t noticed before.

You mentally scolded yourself.

“A–Almost. But I’d never pass up a cup of world-famous Rogers Roast.”

“Wow, world-famous? I would’ve preferred universally-renowned, but I’ll take it.” He held a mug out to you, one faded with a ‘I ❤ New York’ logo– the one you’d gotten for him during your senior-year college internship. “Made it just how you like it.”

He paused as you took a sip. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you, biting his lip in anticipation as you drank. The coffee tasted like liquid gold, warm and comforting and all-around delicious. You didn’t care if you burnt your tongue. This was what you needed.

He was what you needed.

Was he?

You looked back up at Steve. His cheeks flushed as he pressed his lips together, entranced with the mug in your hands, eyes ever-so-slightly flitting from it to your lips and back again.

“Thank you, Stevie.”

“You’re welcome, angel.”

You pinched yourself, then took another sip.

Silence fell, comfortable and calm, as you both nursed your drinks, checking your phones and letting time pass. You didn’t care to check the clock.

Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down.

“So, um,” he began. “What else did you have planned for your birthday?”

His voice was low, tender, careful with the question so as not to upset you. He was curious, however, and determined to see exactly how much Tony fucked up your night.

And your life.

“Oh,” you swallowed, chewing your lip in an attempt to remember what you’d originally planned.

“He was, ah, gonna take me dancing. After dinner, after he,” you took an unsteady breath, “after he met my family. It was the one thing he told me he'd let me do after dinner.” You shook your head, adding under your breath, “besides him.”

Tension seeped into the space between you both. You didn’t want to meet Steve’s stare; it was the one you’d always see whenever you told him about Tony, one filled with anger so palpable it made his arms flex subconsciously, one he thought he hid well enough so you never saw, but you always did. Without looking up, you already knew his jaw was clenched and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes bored a hole into the wall behind you. Butterflies started to somersault, crashing into the waves of worry and anxiety.

“Why?”

You looked up. Blue eyes. Stormy, swirling, stubborn.

“What?”

“Why did you stay with him?” Steve asked steadily, voice barely above a whisper. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

You paused. “Because he wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I could’ve helped you. We could’ve helped you,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the house.

Your teeth tore into your bottom lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I–” Steve sighed and carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, frustrated, trying to keep his promise while also appealing to you and balancing the fragile tightrope you two stood on. “I care about you, angel. I care about you so fuckin’ much. I just wanna know why. Why he was– why you were–”

“I–” Don’t fucking cry. “I was trapped. Every time I tried to leave, he’d tie me down more. It… it wasn’t as easy as you fucking think, Steve. Rose-colored glasses, wool over my eyes, wolf in sheep's clothing, that sorta thing, ya know? These last couple years, I… I don’t know why tonight was it, and I don’t know how I was able to get out, and I just… I don’t fucking know. I don’t. I–”

You felt tears again.

“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”

“No, I know,” you cut him off, setting down your mug to rub your face in your hands. “I know. But I need you to understand that I– God, my fucking brain feels so scrambled. I just feel so confused, I feel like I’m going insane right now. Fuck!”

You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths to feed your strained lungs, holding on to each before exhaling. In, hold, out, repeat.

The room was spinning again, whirling around like a sick carnival ride as your center of gravity began to give.

As you braced the counter, strong hands and warm, muscular arms engulfed you, lifting you back from the countertop and guiding you into the middle of the kitchen. Steve pressed into you until you relented, reaching your arms around him and pulling him closer. The tension in your shoulders melted, migrating to your chest where your heart surged the moment he touched you, where it pounded against your sternum, threatening to break out of its marrow cage. You inhaled him, savoring him, feeling him all around you.

Slowly, delicately, Steve unwrapped from you. He was careful with every touch, as if he would shatter you– even though he had no problem with putting you back together again. He’d done it a million times before, and he’d do it a million times again.

He’d do it all again for you.

Steve carefully slid your hands from around his center, placing one onto his shoulder, then– nervously and ever-so-slowly– he held your other hand out, sliding down your forearm and entwining his fingers into yours. His free hand fell softly onto your waist, fingers absently and lightly kneading the fabric and skin underneath his palm.

“May I have this dance?” he whispered.

You looked up from the floor to Steve, speechless. You nodded.

Then, he started to sway. He guided you both, rocking side to side to an unheard rhythm and subtly spinning in unison under the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He smiled softly, boyish and genuine, with admiration and tenderness in his eyes. Something gentle and kind, something about the feeling and the familiarity of it– of him– sank into you the longer you looked at him. Your focus shifted around the features of his chiseled face. You recognized the light freckles stippled across his nose and cheeks leftover from the summer; the scar on his earlobe from the night Natasha drunkenly dared you to pierce his ear and failed; the faint worry lines sculpted into his forehead he inherited from his father; the soft, full pink of his lips that innocently parted when you caught him staring at you.

It was the feeling that felt foreign to you; the one missing from your life after the last two years. But, it wasn’t missing. It had been right in front of you the entire time stealing glances, accidental touches, and irreplaceable memories.

Steve had been there.

Steve had been the one looking at you like that for the last two years.

He wasn’t missing. He was just waiting his turn.

And, judging by the realization that washed over your face, his waiting was over.

Steve's smile widened as he squeezed your waist, wordlessly confirming the thoughts running rampant in your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the ghost of a cry, blinking away tears forming in the corners of his vision.

Your lips trembled as you smiled back. Slowly, you snaked your hand from his shoulder to his cheek and cupped his face. He leaned into your touch instantly, stubble and skin rubbed against your palm as he kissed it lightly. The press of his lips sent a spark coursing through your veins, electrifying your body and the air around you. The two of you continued to sway while the kitchen spun faster, a blurred whirlwind while you both remained in focus.

“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Since the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you–”

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first. Didn’t wanna be some random dude who just wanted you for your number. You seemed too special to rush into something. Still are,” he sighed. “I wanted to be your friend first, but before I could muster up some courage, Tony swept you out from under me.”

Guilt crawled up your throat. “I– I’m sorry, Stevie.”

He stepped away from you, twirling you, then dragged you back to him. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.

“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I promise. I–” his voice broke. “I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I just– I wish I did more for you. I should’ve done more for you.”

He tilted his head to the ceiling trying to stop his tears from falling, but you pulled him right back down to you.

“Steve,” you started, keeping on his baby blues while your own voice struggled to remain steady, “you’ve done more for me than anyone else in the entire world. Hell, in my entire life. I just lost the last two years of my life suffering with someone I thought I loved. Who I thought loved me.”

You brought your other hand to his face. “You did all you could. I just… I thought it was gonna get better, you know? I thought, I hoped– God, I even fucking prayed– that he’d get better, but he didn’t. Nothing did. And I couldn’t find a way out. It’s like he conditioned me to believe he was the only one I had, like, he was the only one who’d ever save me.”

Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding.

“I’m glad you came to me. Not just tonight, but every night. It was like reassuring me that I didn’t totally lose you, or like I never totally lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”

His face, red-hot underneath your touch, moved closer to yours. You couldn’t tell if you were pulling or he was pushing. His hands gripped your waist the tighter you held his face, the two of you crashing into one another in slow-motion. The light above you grew brighter, the humming of the appliances was getting louder, the room spun at an infinitely unfathomable speed.

You crashed together.

Soft lips– softer than either of you could’ve ever pictured feeling– fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Neither of you moved, staying locked together until your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer and smashing his nose into your cheek. His grip became bruising as his fingers kneaded into your waist, steadying himself with your hips. You felt another surge of electricity as his tongue jutted out, parting your lips and swiping along the bottom before retreating back behind his.

He tipped you backwards on your heel, smirking against your lips as you flinched and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

Setting you upright, he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”

“Never?”

“Ever.”

You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild.

280 notes · View notes

crazyunsexycool · 4 months

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

word count: 1.0k

Summary: Steve feels a bit insecure as he watches a coworker flirt with you at a party.

Warning: bit of insecure Steve, lil bit of angst

A/N: Here is the 4th part The earpiece!

Steve wanted to act as if he wasn’t a jealous person but he was. It stemmed not from you interacting with other people but from his insecurities. In many ways even when you looked at him and saw just Steve, he was the small kid from Brooklyn who couldn’t ask a dame out to save his life. Then you came along and changed his world, even when he thought he messed up with the whole earpiece incident. He loved you. It wasn’t a sweet innocent love either, it was all consuming and burned wildly in his whole being. So seeing as other men were as captivated by you as he was made his blood boil. A hurricane of doubt and negative thoughts started to form in his head. He questioned if he was worth the effort. Steve couldn’t help but wonder what you saw in him.

It was as if you had heightened senses of your own because suddenly your eyes connect with Steve’s from across the crowded room. You smile at him brightly, your eyes lighting up. Steve couldn’t help but smile back, yet that same pesky feeling bothered him as you turned back to your conversation.

It was only a few minutes. You’d gone to the bathroom and on the way back your coworker stopped to talk to you. But he got to see you every day so Steve couldn’t understand why he had to talk to you during a party too. It didn’t help that this was the same guy that kept flirting with you at any chance he got.

“It’s not a good look on you, pal.” Bucky says as he stops next to Steve.

“What?” Steve looks at Bucky.

“This whole broody, trying to not look jealous thing you got going on.”

Steve scoffs and looks back at you, his jaw clenching when the other man places a hand on your arm which you quickly pulled away. He mutters a curse under his breath as jealousy rears its ugly head. Steve watches as the other man gets too close for your comfort.

“I’ll be right back.” He says before stomping his way over to you.

You felt him before you saw him. The scent from his cologne was comforting as he came up behind you. Steve’s hard chest pressed against your back and you immediately relaxed. Looking over your shoulder you smiled up at him but Steve’s eyes were on your coworker Paul. Sure he was handsome with his dark brown eyes and matching hair but he wasn’t like Steve. You’d heard rumors around the tower about Paul and his slutty reputation. That was something you weren’t interested in experiencing. Besides, you had Steve, he was the most caring person you’d ever met. Why would you trade down?

“Captain, how are you doing?” Paul sends an annoyed look Steve’s way.

“I’m doing great Peter, how about you?”

“It’s Paul actually.”

“Oh.” Is all Steve replies. “I hope you don’t mind but I came over here to steal my girl.”

Paul’s smile fades slowly as his eyes bounce between you and Steve. “But we were having such a lovely conversation. Why don’t you join us?”

“Actually Paul I do need to get going. See you on Monday.”

“Bye, Patrick.” Steve says.

“Come on,” Paul grabs your hand and tries to get you to stay. “We’re having a good time.”

“I’d very much like to spend time with Steve. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“But-“

“You heard what she said, now let her go.”

Steve takes your hand and leads you out to a quiet area outside so that he can finally spend time with you alone.

“What was that about?”

“What?” Steve asks while putting on his most innocent act.

“That whole snippy attitude back there. And don’t give me those doe eyes, I know what you’re doing.”

Steve sits down on a lounge chair and pulls you by your hips so that you’re standing between his legs. He looks up at you like you hung the moon and the stars just for him but there’s uncertainty behind it all. You rest your hands on his shoulders and wait for him to say something.

“I’m sorry. I just hated seeing the way Preston was looking at you and trying to touch you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that he wouldn’t call him by his actual name.

“Steve, baby, where is this coming from? Did I do or say something to make you feel like this?”

“No, not at all. It’s just me.”

“Baby.” You cup his cheeks and make him look up at you. “I only want you. There is no one else in this world that I would want to be with other than you. Not Captain America or Steve Rogers, the leader of the Avengers. I want to be with Steve, the kid from Brooklyn who gets me flowers just cause and who leaves me little notes and doodles around my office just to make me smile. The Steve who would race to my apartment just to get rid of a spider because I’m scared of them. What do I have to do to make you realize that?”

“Nothing. I just need to remember that you see me for who I am.”

“And that I love you no matter what.”

The words wash over him and they calm the storm he’d been creating in his head. “You love me?” Steve said incredulously.

“Of course.” You smile and nod.

Steve stands and pulls you in for a kiss. He leaves you breathless.

“I love you too.”

You giggle against his lips as you both say those three little words to each other a few more times. Steve pulls away and takes your hand, leading you back in and through the party.

“Where are we going?” You ask with a laugh.

“I’m gonna show you how much I love you.”

When you get to the elevators Steve hits the buttons multiple times. You turn him around and distract him with a kiss. When he pulls back again and looks up he makes eye contact with Paul. With a smirk on his face, Steve palms your ass and kisses you again.

He really didn’t have a reason to be jealous. You love him and he loved you but the angry face Paul made was still priceless.

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@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

@kandis-mom

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@braveclementine

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve rogers #captain America #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers x y/n

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biteofcherry · 11 months

Note

Hi! ALPHA STEVEEEEE oh my actual days. i have an unhealthy attachement to GoT. If his omega was feeling insecure how would he react? I feel like he would be completely flabbergasted and considering how she is very much independent she might not tell him at first. but if he found out...

A study

alpha!Steve Rogers x omega female reader

warnings: none; fluffy hurt/comfort; alpha has unique ways of improving your mood; but there's also understanding and communication; alpha Steve is a warning okay?

Grain of Truth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"I guess this one could work," you shrugged, watching yourself in the mirror with growing resentment.

Your words reached Steve with quite a delay. He was staring at you, his mind occupied with images of ripping the fabric off of your body to get his hands on the magnificence of your curves and softness.

You looked absolutely fantastic in that dress - and it wasn't even some revealing, super sexy evening gown, but rather a chic, modest piece. Perfect for attending a conference.

And when you first saw that dress on the display as you passed the shop, you seemed to love it. How could it change so quickly?

Steve's gaze dragged up your body until he met your eyes in the mirror.

It was the very first time you showed annoyance with your looks, even if occasionally you fussed about not fitting into your favorite clothes right before the heat, because your body was accumulating fat to survive days of endless fucking.

"What is it?" Steve's brows furrowed as he took a step closer and you felt the warmth of his body at your back.

His hands slipped onto your hips and he rested his chin on top of your head as he held your gaze in the reflection.

"Nothing," you shrugged again, instinctively leaning into your alpha's embrace. "It's a good dress, but it doesn't really matter, right?"

Steve sensed that clearly it did matter, so he waited patiently for you to elaborate.

"I just have one meaningless presentation, nobody will pay attention to it beside just politely listening and clapping after I'm done." You tried to play it cool, like it didn't bother you that there was going to be a different star at the conference.

"Unlike Hope," you muttered, your tone more bitter than you wanted to let on.

Hope was- not exactly a friend, but not an enemy either.

You went to the same university, shared some mutual friends and occasionally worked on the same projects before graduation. Then you pursued your career goals while Hope went on to rock the world with everything that she had.

She was stunning, always had a line of men and women trailing behind her with dreams of spending time with her. She had a brilliant mind, too. Honestly, she had it all, in your opinion.

Including the freedom of not being driven by designation and hormones, since she was a beta.

As it turned out, Hope now had not one but three degrees and steered her career toward medical science for the military purposes. You were proud of how you were actually helping people day to day, running your small research, but it suddenly felt less significant compared to Hope's straight road to saving the world.

When you stumbled into her an hour ago, your brief, quite warm conversation revealed she was going to be the mysterious grand star at the conference you were also attending.

And she too was searching for an outfit. Judging by the label on the bag she was carrying, Hope was going to have something designer. Perhaps even custom fitted.

Then it turned out Steve was familiar with one of her projects; he saw it used in action when back in the military.

They switched feedback and information about Hope's upgrades so flawlessly and passionately, and you just stood there with a smile, nodding your head in pretend-interest.

Hope had it all. Still. Just like she had in uni.

Including attention of your mate.

You knew Steve loved you, you didn't fear him leaving you to chase anyone else. But love didn't mean he was impressed, or interested in your meager career.

The only profit you'd gain from presenting your study at the conference would be Maria's proud face as she added to your clinic's website information about running research acknowledged at international conferences.

"Hope?" One of Steve's eyebrows quirked up, confusion settling on his face. "That beta we ran into?"

"Yes, that beta whose great improvements to the battlefield medicine-" you mocked Steve's voice- "you were complimenting less than an hour ago," you glared at him, barely stopping yourself from stomping on his foot.

"Sweet brat," Steve's hands tightened their grip on your hips, an almost painful reminder to watch your tone.

"I was a Captain in the Army and sometimes on missions things got really bad. I simply appreciate that Hope's projects helped to save lives of some of my men."

"I know her work is important." You grit out, crossing your arms over your chest. "Which is why I know everyone will look forward to her presentation and discussion panel with her. So I don't need to bother stressing over my showing."

Steve recited the full title of your presentation and research, showing you he was always paying attention to what was important to you.

"Hope's work may be desired by the big, important institutions," he said, "but it's your research that has the potential of aiding people nationally, in their day to day struggles."

Your heart melted at the conviction in Steve's voice. Through the bond you sensed a steady rhythm and a flush of fiery pride that your alpha felt about your work.

"And you know what else?" Steve bent down a little, resting his chin in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your cheek.

"Hope has nothing beyond her career. Beneath the smell of perfume, there's only the scent of the lab on her. No partner, neither long term nor a fuckbuddy. No remnants of anyone familiar, like a friend or a pet."

"Maybe she chose it that way," Steve mused, rubbing soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs, "or maybe she spends the rest of her day being as fussy as you, feeling bitter that she doesn't have a mate and love like you."

You sighed softly, uncrossing your arms. You rested your hands atop Steve's forearms, caressing his warm skin.

You tilted your head slightly as your placated insecurities slowly retreated, living room to the mentioned fussy streak. That still wasn't entirely gone, strumming inside you with a need to act out.

"So you were checking her scent?" It was a deliberate poke, delivered with a glare.

Steve huffed and closed his eyes for a second. Then he straightened and in one swift move twirled you around.

He pushed you back against the mirror, gripping the back of your neck with one of his large hands.

"If you're sporting for a spanking until you sob all your frustration and insecurities out, I will happily arrange it." His voice remained soft, but dropped to that low octave a breath away from a growl.

"Or maybe we can make you more excited on that stage?" You gulped nervously as Steve's eyes darkened.

His lips trailed along your jaw, teeth just barely grazing your skin.

"You'll be giving your lecture wearing nothing but that pretty dress, while I sit in the first row with your panties in my pocket. Knowing that as soon as you're done with your presentation, I'm going to be fucking you full of my cum..."

Steve nipped your chin in reprimand when your eyes closed, the sting making you open them instantly.

"So that when you do the rounds at the banquet later that beta you're jealous off knows that you've won something she'll never have. A true mate."

Your clamped your hands on Steve's shoulders, gripping the fabric of his too tight t-shirt.

"You can't solve everything with sex, you know," you said breathlessly, clenching your thighs as you felt Steve's free hand slide up the pencil skirt of the dress you were trying on.

"How about we conduct a longitudinal study on that?" Steve chuckled and slapped your thigh.

#steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogrs x omega female reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #alpha steve rogers x omega female reader #a/b/o dynamics #grain of truth #my writing

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golden-barnes · 1 year

Text

Operation milkshakes, hospital visits and custody of Mr Bear

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Sequel to Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together. Bucky and Reader are finally on their little coffee date, but Amaya gets hurt. Then there's a shared custody to heal a broken arm. {wc: 2.7k} Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure again and a bit of insecurity from reader . Some sexual references bit of tension but its mostly fluff. Amaya gets hurt but it's brief. if you don't like a milf reader pls don't interact I don't want to get hate like last time lmao a/n: I have been writing this for years it seems and I finally am able to finish it and I'm so happy I hope you guys enjoy it. I am gonna try and finish all of my stories this month to be able to do other stuff. I am so sorry if it's shitty as hell, I tried my best to fight the writter's block Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

Is Bucky embarrassed that he has been texting none stop with his student’s mom? Yes, but who will stop him from feeling like he is walking on cloud nine? For the past few weeks, Bucky has been texting you back and forth whenever you had a break.

Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to get that cup of coffee because of work, but Bucky knew he had found his match. Funny, intelligent, and the sweetest person he has ever met.

Fuck, I feel like a love-struck schoolboy. Bucky thinks, cursing at himself while passing the exam papers to his students. Amaya smiled at him, basically giving him a knowing smirk. Holy shit, he feels blackmailed by a 6-year-old.

She has no idea that Bucky and her mom are on a talking stage, but that doesn’t stop her from smirking at her teacher, who her mom has told her auntie that her teacher was cute. And that was enough for her already planning your wedding where she gets to be a flower girl.

Bucky sat down at his desk when he felt his phone vibrate. The notification had your name on it, almost making Bucky jump out of his seat.

Hey, one of my clients canceled for Friday. U wanna get that coffee?

Bucky couldn’t seem to write yes faster. He felt so happy, but shit, what was he going to wear? His closet comprises of henleys and sweaters. The occasional tank tops are there, but they weren’t the norm. He dresses like a middle-aged librarian, and he is proud of it. But, on the other hand, maybe he was overthinking it.

“Dude, it’s a coffee date. Not a Michelin restaurant.” Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s rant. Bucky told his best friends about inner turmoil and why he was so stressed. Sam just laughed at him.

“We don’t know about that one Rogers; she is a fancy lawyer for a fancy firm. She’s probably making the big bucks.” Sam winked at Bucky, which made him feel even more stressed.

What if they dated, and she felt embarrassed to show him to her lawyer friends? He is on a New York Public school salary, it’s a miracle he has enough money to live alone, but he was going to be rooming with Steve.

“Sam, stop torturing him, please. I can see the smoke coming out of his ears.” Wanda explained, heating up her lunch and smirking at her extremely stressed friend.

“He is just so fun to mess with.”Sam whined while Bucky couldn’t help but scoff.

“I am glad my suffering is your enjoyment, but I am about to run away to New Jersey and live as a hermit because I haven’t been on a date since college, and I have no fucking clue what to wear. Help me.” Bucky rambles, almost out of breath. Sam bites back a chuckle while Steve just looks worried. Wanda sighs; being the only person with brain cells in the teacher’s lounge is difficult.

“Bucky, wear that brown blazer you wore at my engagement party. Maybe a blue henley underneath. You did say she thought you looked hot in those, so who cares, honestly. “ Wanda Maximoff, the voice of reason to these messy elementary school teachers once again.

Bucky should stop asking these things to Sam and Steve and just ask go directly to Wanda.

(Y/N) wasn't doing that great either. She really liked Bucky; he was a hot guy but caring and smart. He made her laugh with his dorky quotes and references. He was well-read and gave her excellent book recommendations.

More importantly, Amaya loved him. Every day she would show up rambling about something he had done in class that made her very happy. Whether it was telling her a funny story using Mister Bear, Bucky’s teaching assistant that Amaya adored, or handing her a fruit roll-up when the other kids weren't looking. Bucky was her favorite teacher, but it mostly felt like he had taken a father role that she needed.

One thing that made her stress out was how she was perceived. She had been on dates before, and every time the men went home running with their tails between their legs after feeling threatened by her confidence and career.

Being a single mother and a powerful lawyer really fucked over her chances of dating. Apparently, knowing your worth and what you want doesn’t make you that appealing to men, especially these insecure, fragile masculinity-having assholes.

But Bucky seemed different; he knew she had a kid and an influential career and still wanted to date her? He was different.

“You still overthinking this date?” Her coworker and close friend, Jen, asked her. Nat rolled her eyes, knowing (Y/N) like the back of her hand.

“She has been making a pros and cons list on her computer for the past hour. Girl, he likes you. No grown man texts you romantic quotes at 3 am without sending a you up? Text.” Natasha rambles but (Y/N) sighs. She knows what Nat is saying is correct, but still… She didn’t want to make things awkward for ‘Maya.

“She has it really bad, but he seems so sweet. It’s just a coffee date; get to know him in person.” Jen tried to comfort her. She patted her shoulder, sorta giving (Y/N) a side hug.

“Now on to date outfits. I say a plaid skirt and a sweater. The skimpiest skirt you have.” Nat grins evilly.

“It’s a coffee date, not a hookup.” (Y/N) laughs at her suggestion.

“Whatever you say, but that man’s shoulders are so broad that it wouldn’t be surprising if your legs were on them after the night.” Nat shrugs, but (Y/N) and Jenn laugh at the sexual joke.

“I am trying not to give Maya a sibling yet.” (Y/N) threw a piece of paper at Nat.

“Yet is the keyword in that sentence.” Nat winked at her comment.

Bucky was shifting his weight on the chair. They had decided to meet at this cute little café that opened about a month ago. It was right next to a bookstore that Bucky loved so much, and coincidently (Y/N) took Amaya a lot to get her story time books.

“Sorry I am late; traffic was horrible.” Bucky swore his breath was stolen from his chest because the minute he saw her, he felt like his lungs didn’t have air.

“I- uhm, I get it. You look beautiful, by the way.” (Y/N) smiled at his compliment while sitting right before him.

“You don’t look bad yourself.” She winked at the teacher, who started sweating bullets once she began to compliment him.

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks the couple. (Y/N) nods while Bucky just looks puzzled at the menu. She smiled at him.

“Give us a minute, please.” (Y/N) said kindly.

“Do you have any idea what you are going to order? If you don’t mind me asking?” Bucky asks sheepishly, but the woman just smiles.

“I am dying to try this plum strudel, especially since Maya isn’t here to steal my pieces. And I need a milkshake.” (Y/N) explained; Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Amaya is a bit of a sugar fiend, isn’t she? I can’t even eat my fruits in peace without her looking at me as if I stole them from her.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) rolled her eyes because she knew her daughter.

“It’s not a shocker. It’s practically my fault. When I was pregnant with her, all I did was eat candy. I have a sweet tooth, but she’s like a sugar monster.” She explained, reminiscing all the pregnancy cravings she had. Bucky laughed at her comment.

“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Bucky asks all of a sudden. Finding it weird that she is ordering a milkshake at a café. She shook her head.

“Oh god, no. It would be my 5th coffee this day. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, and every meeting has a coffee run. Then there’s the coffee between every 15-page contract I have to write.” Bucky chuckles because that seems like he is the same in a completely different way.

“I get you. After grading my 10th paper, I’ve already drank 3 cups of coffee. My record is 7 in one day. I was planning on getting the milkshake too.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) laughed.

“So we are two coffee addicts on a coffee date, but we aren’t gonna drink any coffee. Got it.” (Y/N) smirked at Bucky. He felt his ears getting red. Suck it up, Bucky; she hasn’t even said anything sexual. She is just being funny. Bucky said to himself.

“It appears that we are. I hope you don’t mind, but I’mma order the same thing as you. I love plums. My ma makes the best plum pie I’ve ever eaten.” Bucky rambled, trying to stop himself from buckling under her gaze. Suddenly (Y/N)’s phone rings.

“Hey MJ, what’s up? Oh what? I am on my way.” (Y/N) hangs up, her face turns somber, and her eyes are filled with tears.

“I am so sorry, Bucky, but I have to go. Amaya fell, and the babysitter told me she won't stop crying. Her arm might be broken, and I must take her to the hospital.” She says, gathering up her purse. She was shaking, trying to stand up, but her legs were shaking. Bucky stands up to help her.

“Can you drive?” (Y/N) shook her head, worried because Amaya was always careful. She runs around like any normal kid but is ultra-cautious about getting hurt. Bucky extended his hand, and she grabbed it.

She gave him the directions to her house so Bucky could drive her home. She hadn’t really said anything during the entire ride; Bucky didn’t know what to do, so he did what he did best. Ramble on.

“You know I broke my arm around the same age. But mine was in a fight.” Bucky said, which got (Y/N)’s attention.

“Back when we were kids, Steve was the smallest kid in our classroom, and there was this kid named Tom; he kept pushing him and making fun of him. So one day, I stood up for him and decided I could fight Tom. I should mention that Tom was 2 grades above us, so anyway, he pushed me so hard that I fell. Broke my arm and wasn’t allowed to go to recess anymore. My teacher, Sally, knew that Tom was a bully and got me a lesser sentence.” Bucky told her. She smiled.

“So you were a troublemaker as a kid. Kinda like my ‘Maya.” She joked, smiling, talking about her little girl.

“Oh, Amaya is a little angel in comparison to me. She is manipulative as hell, but she’s a sweet kid. Takes after her mom.” Bucky complimented. (Y/N) sighed at his compliment.

“I tried my best. It’s not easy, you know. Being a single mom. Sometimes I think I don’t do enough and that I am never there, but-”

“Listen, I have been a teacher for a while now. I have seen parents who don’t care and never show up for their kids. You aren’t one of them. I know for a fact that every Wednesday, you take her to a museum or an interactive place. You are her person, and I think you are a fantastic mom. “ Bucky interrupts. He grabs her hand, and she squeezes it. Bucky parks in front of her house. Her big ass house. He keeps forgetting that she is, in fact, a well-paid lawyer.

Amaya did indeed have a broken arm. Bucky had to carry her to the car and into the hospital. He even sat with her when she was getting her X-ray while (Y/N) talked with the doctors.

“I wish all dads were like you. You really made this a lot easier for her.” The nurse said, looking directly at Bucky, who was holding a very tired Amaya. Bucky felt his ears getting warm.

“I’m not her dad.” The nurse scoffed at Bucky’s correction.

“Could’ve fooled me with how she’s so attached to you.” She noted. (Y/N) walked into the room with the doctor.

“Hey, ‘Maya.” The little girl in Bucky’s arms stirred at the sound of her mom’s soothing voice. (Y/N)’s eyes were puffy, probably from crying at seeing her baby in pain. Bucky wanted to hug her and Amaya, but he couldn’t really move with a child in his arms with a broken arm.

“The doctor needs you to sit on the little table over there to check you out.” (Y/N) said, which caused Amaya to slightly shake her head and grip Bucky’s arm with her non-broken hand. (Y/N) looked at Bucky in the eyes, almost pleading with him to help.

“Amaya, if you sit there, you’ll get to take Mister Bear for the entire month.” Bucky wasn’t new to bribing kids, it’s sometimes the last resort, but Bucky knew how much Amaya loved Mister Bear. The little girl smiled weakly and turned to look at her doctor. (Y/N) smiled at Bucky, she mouthed him a thank you. Bucky was sure his cheeks were glowing red.

“Please, Mister Bucky, sign my cast.” Amaya said, giving him a pen to sign her super bright pink cast. Finally, she calmed down after they put the cast on her, and she got to pick a color. Then, they returned to (Y/N)’s house, where MJ, the babysitter, was still in the place, worried for little Maya.

Bucky laughed, signing his name on her cast and adding a roughly made butterfly. Amaya giggled at the butterfly. Bucky didn’t even notice (Y/N) walking towards them.

“How are we gonna do the custody for Mister Bear?” She asks, noticing that Amaya is walking towards MJ so she would sign her cast.

“Well, I use it as a teaching tool, so I have to have it during the day.” Bucky explained. (Y/N) nodded.

“And I can’t pick up Maya this week because I am in court all day.” She added.

“I can bring him over after work if you want. “ Bucky suggests. (Y/N) extends her hand for Bucky to shake it.

“I can agree to that, Mr. Barnes.” She said, smiling at Bucky.

Bucky could die right now, and he would be happy. But who would’ve known that a ruined date could be saved by a shared custody agreement of a teddy bear with a 6-year-old?

For the past week, Bucky brought Mister Bear for Amaya to play with. After giving the girl the bear, he wouldn’t leave the house. Oh no, no. (Y/N) would give him food, and he would even eat dinner with them. They talked for hours about shows, movies, their childhoods, and just everything they could think of with a glass of wine. Amaya would go to bed, and they would stay up talking, even if they had to wake up early.

Bucky and (Y/N) had told Amaya that he was staying over for dinner in exchange for Mister Bear because saying, “Hey, mama and your teacher like each other a lot, but you can’t tell anyone” is too much for a 6-year-old.

What they didn’t count for was that Amaya was too smart for her own good. She knew it was strange that Bucky stayed for dinner and that her mom would wear her “special” perfume whenever Mister Bucky came over. So is this how she’s gonna get a dad? And all she had to do was break her arm.

Bucky was talking to Steve when Amaya approached him with a book. Both men turned their attention to the little girl with the bright pink cast.

“Mister Bucky, Mister Bear and I want to read this book tonight. Could you bring it over later?” Steve’s eyes widened, and he turned to his best friend, bewildered by the revelation made by the kid.

Bucky nodded, trying not to speak because he felt like Steve would have a heart attack if he had verbal confirmation that he was going to (Y/N)’s house every day.

“James Buchannan Barnes, are you sleeping with your student’s mom?”Steve whisper-s creamed once Amaya was out of hearing range.

“I am not sleeping with her… We just eat dinner together, and I bring Mister Bear for Amaya. It’s our custody agreement.” Bucky tried to explain, but Steve looked like the vein on his forehead would pop.

“Fuck Bucky, you are in deep shit now,” Steve whispered. Wait until Bucky tells him he is utterly in love with his student’s mom. Oh shit, what?

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barns x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

Text

the right partner

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You had no intentions of joining Stark's party, considering that your ex had just dumped you two days ago and he was already announcing his new relationship. And then along came Loki, offering to be your date for the night…

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: language (yeah no, not sorry, Rogers); little bit of steam at the end; reader w/ insecurities [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Steve is the ex; Nat & Wanda offering violence to avenge their bestie; borderline dangerous dancing stunts (don't try this at home, kids); coworkers/teammates to lovers

"Babes, stop fussing over the dress. You look hot. It's giving revenge dress if I do say so myself. Everyone covering the event will take one look at you and see without a doubt in their mind that you won this break up. Especially considering how hot your dates are."

Natasha nudged your shoulder playfully, probably in hopes of wiping the scowl off of the reflection staring back at you as you adjusted the strap of your midnight blue mermaid dress, making sure everything was secure and no unflattering angles were even remotely feasible.

Then again you could barely walk properly in the damn thing, so there really wasn't much room for awkward and unflattering, considering that you'd be able to do little more than stand and pose. You'd wanted to trade in the dress for something that gave you a bit more breathing room considering that the man that chose -- well, he'd argue strongly encouraged -- the dress was no longer your date for the night, but your choices would be stiflingly limited with how close you'd have been cutting it if you'd returned it.

Two days to break up, pack up, move your things out of his apartment in the compound, move back into your own apartment, clean up said apartment to make it at least livable once again, cry a bit, and then ready yourself for this charity ball? There wasn't time to return the dress that Steve chose, let alone pick out a new one. Even with the help of both Nat and Wanda.

"Remind me to thank Bucky and Vision for letting me steal you two away tonight?"

"Don't even worry about it. But maybe you could talk to Bucky later and tell him that there isn't even a shred of this that's his fault? He somehow got it into his head that because Steve's his best friend he should have sensed something. Should've told me. Or directly told you. He's been feeling like shit over this whole thing since I came home two days ago and told him I had to help you clean out your stuff from Rogers' apartment and move back into your old one."

Just as you were about to reassure the Russian spy that you would talk to her husband the second you got the chance to when there were no nosy reporters lurking around corners or planting microphones around the event to capture their next juicy story, Wanda walked into the room, her expression colored with a mix of pity and irritation.

"Well he might feel a hell of a lot worse now that he's seeing in real time what his best buddy's been doing since the breakup." Nausea began to swirl in your stomach as they each took one of your hands and the sorceress led you to the conference hall that had been fully decked out for tonight's event. The crowd had gathered around the dance floor, phones out and whispering amongst one another as they looked on the couple in the center.

"Oh you've got to be fucking shitting me," Nat bellowed in outrage, her hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist to ensure you were still standing straight. "You even asked him point blank about her and he brushed you off--"

"Don't worry about her, Cookie, I'm just making sure she has the best training available to her," you seethed, feeling yourself shaking in your friend's hold as you repeated Steve's words to you just last week. "Babes, I don't think I even wanna go in there. I can already see the fucking headlines. Heartbroken Avenger Y/N Y/L/N seeks the comfort of her girlfriends' company as former lover Captain America debuts his new relationship with SHIELD Agent Ava WhatsHerFace. This isn't worth it. You two go. Be with your husbands. I'm going home."

"Are you sure?" Wanda squeezed your other hand, her free arm already radiating her signature red magic. "I can trip her and make them fall flat on their asses, just say the word."

It took you a great deal to not take her up on her offer, instead opting to just squeeze her hand back before letting go, maneuvering yourself out of their hold. "I'm sure. No tripping anybody, you two. Last thing we need is the internet speculating on which sides the Avengers are taking in what they're gonna try and spin as the breakup that shocked the world, and then making these idiotic theories about how we might cause a reiteration of Germany right here in the Big Apple."

"Okay what if I just poisoned her drink no one would know it was me--"

"Babes, everyone would know it was you," you cut off the spy. "No poison. No tripping. Not even a backhanded compliment. If you really can't stand the sight of her then walk away. Otherwise Pepper will kill us over making a scene over this and I'm not even joining the damn party but she'll drag me in anyway because she's gonna figure out that you two did what you did because of me."

"You're a better woman than that little shit ever deserved," Wanda grumbled, pulling you into a quick embrace. "We'll see you after the party then? Because no way in hell are you sleeping alone tonight."

"After," you confirmed, already walking away from the two as they walked toward the bar to where Bucky and Vision were undoubtedly standing and waiting patiently for them.

You'd walked down a good few feet down the hall when a voice halted you.

"Y/N?" You inwardly groaned at the sound of Loki calling out to you. The absolute last thing you needed was the member of the team who was undoubtedly and objectively the most unfairly breathtakingly beautiful person in all of New York -- hell, in all of the world as far as you were concerned -- seeing you in the dejected state you were in.

You did your best to plaster on a half-smile as you turned to face the god. "Hey, Mischief." You threw him a cursory glance, your heart skipping a good few beats when you registered his bespoke Burnham green tuxedo forming to his sculpted body like a well-worn leather glove. "You look great."

"You're breathtaking," he sighed, walking the rest of the distance and stopping a few steps in front of you. "As you always are." He gave you a curt smile, his fingers visibly twitching in your direction as he kept his hands to his sides. "Are you not joining the gala?"

"Thinking I might sit this one out, actually," you murmured, grimacing at just how miserable you sounded to your own ears. "Considering it doing Pepper a solid and making sure that tonight's all about whatever cause Stark decided to back this time around and not about the untimely demise of me and Rogers. The last thing we need is me becoming the center of attention because the media published headlines calling me the Heartbroken Avenger because I walked in there with my friends while my ex debuts his shiny new toy." You took an awkward step back, giving him an even more inelegant wave his way. "You have fun, though, Mischief."

He took your hand in his as you were turning away from him. "What if I escorted you?" Something with his soft spoken tone, partnered with the way his thumb was stroking the back of your hand, had you struggling to take your next breath. "We could walk in together, and it wouldn't cross anybody's mind to call you heartbroken or lonely or anything of the sort."

You couldn't help but scoff at his offer. "I'm not sure you wanna take on the media vultures who'll write about you getting Captain America's sloppy seconds. Hell, if I walk in there with you they'll think you probably did it out of pity. People already paint me as someone they don't think could have pulled the likes of Steve, but if we walk in there together you'll never hear the end of how charitable you were to--"

"Stop that," he cut you off, his tone sibilant and terse as if he was slicing through your self-pity party for one. "Rogers is an imbecile, he always has been. To have held painite in his uncouth hands and traded it in for mere rubble." He took a step closer to you, making you struggle to hide the shudder than ran through you when you could practically feel the warmth of his body radiating from him. "To walk into that room with you would not be an act of charity, darling. It would be an honor. A privilege."

"Okay come on that's enough--"

"How I wish you could see yourself the way I do," he murmured, his free hand lightly grasping your chin and making it impossible to turn your gaze from him. "Come with me. We'll share a dance and afterward if you still wish to leave then we will."

"Are you insane?" you blurted out, shaking your head at how absurd his offer was. "If you walk in with me and you leave with me, you're gonna find out real quick that people actually can hate me more than they did when I was dating Steve, because now I'm preventing you from getting all the pretty girls' numbers in the party. There are supermodels in there, Mischief. Pretty sure there're some princesses, too. They came here for you."

"Then they will leave disappointed," he answered back, the corner of his mouth pulling in a smirk as he watched your brows knit together in clear confusion. "As for attaining the contact information of, how did you phrase it again? Pretty girls? I already have that of the most beguiling woman who would be in that gala, I truly need no more." He let go of your hand to reach for his phone and tap away at it to call whoever he was referring to.

A few seconds later your little purse began to ring, making you give him a pointed stare. "Smooth." Your phone stopped ringing as soon as he put his away, finding yourself fighting to breathe properly once more when he placed his hand back in yours. "Fine," you huffed. "But we're not dancing, I can barely walk in this stupid thing, the dance floor would turn into a crime scene if I so much as spun wrong."

The soft chuckle that escaped his lips filled you with a weird sense of pride, knowing that even for a few short moment the usually terse god felt comfortable enough around you to seem so unguarded. He released his hold on you to hover his hands by your waist. "May I?"

You took a moment to try figuring out what he meant before answering, "I don't know what you're asking for but alright. I trust you."

His playful demeanor faltered for a moment, eyebrows knitting together and raising slightly before he placed his hands on your waist and gently guiding you to turn and facing the mirrored wall. Your breath hitched in your throat with a squeak as his gaze met yours on the reflection, bringing his face level to yours, his lips hovering just beside your ear. "Beautiful as you are in this dress, darling, you look as if you'd been forced to conform into something you're not. You were made to move freely, as gracefully and as fluidly as you move in the field."

You held your breath as you watched his magic washing over you, your dress melting away from the shoulders down and slowly being replaced with a dark emerald silk gown that stopped just below your ankles, the skirt flaring out from the waist with a slit going up to the middle of your thigh. The feel of your hair cascading down your back had you realizing that you were so caught up in the spectacle of your dress changing before your very eyes that you'd barely felt his fingers deftly taking the pins out of your hair and undoing the tightly knotted bun that borderline violently pulled at your temples.

"Hmmm…much better." You fought against the chill that ran throughout your body at the low tone of his voice reverberating in your ear. "Just one more…tiny flourish." His hand moved from your hair to rest his fingers lightly on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, a slight smile appearing on his face in the reflection when your breathing became audibly staggered as a teardrop emerald pendant hanging off a gold chain materialized around your neck. "Himmelske," he breathed out, the vision of him lightly pressing his lips to the top of your head making your pulse pound in your ears. "Shall we?"

"This is too much…" you sighed, turning around to face him and nearly stumbling over your own feet when you saw how close your faces were to one another. "I can't possibly--"

"You can, darling." He took your hand in his again and brought it up towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, all the while his eyes never leaving yours. "You look ethereal, like a goddess walking among mortals." He pressed his lips to your knuckles once more. "Min gudinne." He began to walk backwards towards the party, keeping your hands intertwined as he led you down the hall, typing something away a quick message on his phone as the music from the repurposed conference hall gradually grew louder.

Once you were mere feet away from the doors leading to the conference hall, the old-fashioned music that made you want to retch on the spot screeched to a halt, and Tony's voice boomed through the speakers.

"Alright Cap that's enough, some of us actually don't want to see our dinner a second time tonight." The crowd began to chuckle at his joking barbs toward your ex. "Why don't you and your new babydoll take a breather for a minute. Or a hundred. While I go ahead and play on a special request for…well I'll be damned…Reindeer Games."

The sound of Tony's little nickname for Loki had you growing frigid in the god's hold. "Mischief, what did you do?"

Your question went unanswered, him opting to give you a soft smile as he lifted your joint hands up to place a tender kiss to the back of your hand before leading you to the center of the dance floor, the sound of your friends' claps and cheers -- as well as a round of hearty hollers from both Bucky and Thor -- filling the room and overpowering the piano intro of "Tightrope" by Sara Bareilles playing over the speakers as soon as you came into view.

Glares tinged with thinly veiled envious rage weighed down on you like cinder blocks as the raven-haired Asgardian placed his hand on your lower back, bringing your bodies within mere inches of one another. "Everyone's staring," you wavered, trying to keep your breathing even as he began to lead you in a basic waltz around the dance floor.

"Envious, petulant mortals," he answered with a sneer, giving you a small smirk at the end. "Likely because I have the most beautiful date among them all."

"Do gods wear glasses?" you bit back, scoffing softly at his words. "Because I'm pretty sure Adriana Lima is here and--"

"I can see quite clearly, precious mortal," he cut you off, the gentle tone of his voice not once wavering. "Better than you think." He upped the pace of your steps, the smile on his face growing wider as your steps became less structured and he raised your joint hands to spin you on the spot, your dress twirling fluidly with each step before he pulled you back to him, now chest to chest as he resumed leading you in a large circle around the floor. "You seem surprised, darling."

"I usually would have stepped on your toes by now," you whispered, your breath hitching as every step you took together felt perfectly synced, a part of you heavily dreading stumbling and sending you both into a clumsy heap on the floor. Especially with the even closer proximity of your bodies to one another. "Are you doing this?" He answered you with a slight furrow of his eyebrows. "Did you enchant the dress? The necklace? My shoes?"

"I did nothing of the sort, dear Y/N," he whispered into your ear, the feel of his breath on your skin sending your heart into overdrive. "Perhaps you'd simply been with the wrong partners all your life." You faintly registered the way his hold on you tightened the slightest bit. "I wish to prove it to you. A little flourish both for our benefit and for the entertainment of our audience."

A sequence of movements was projected into your mind, each motion requiring complete trust in your partner as you climbed over his back, held up only by your joint hands and your knee braced on his shoulder as he spun on the spot. And then capped off with a dismount that had you hanging upside down and suspended as such for a few moments before righting yourself on your feet.

"Do you trust me, darling?"

You didn't need to think twice about your answer. "Yes." He flashed a brilliant smile before twirling you away and out of his hold, turning his back to you and giving you a silent signal to execute the move. Within a few short moments you were propped up on his shoulder, held up by your joint hands and feeling as if you were flying as he executed each turn with visible ease.

The faces of the crowd, a mixture of pure shock and awe, said it all. No one on the team had ever placed that much trust in Loki, despite the countless times he'd undoubtedly saved any and all of you throughout your numerous missions together. And here you were giving everyone a blatant display that among all the members of the team, you probably trusted him the most.

There wasn't even the slightest tremble in your movement as you executed the dismount, briefly giving them all a face-splitting grin that nearly mirrored the blond Asgardian watching from the bar as he looked on at the spectacle you and his brother had created before turning back and facing your partner. The next moment he'd gone back to holding you and twirling you both around the dance floor with a slight flourish as you reunited.

"There you are, precious mortal," he breathed out, securing his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he spun you both again, the skirt of your dress billowing from the motion and creating a perfect flourish to your steps, earning you various oohs and aahs from the audience. You assumed that the bitter hmph sounds came from your ex and Miss Ava WhatsHerFace. "I've missed seeing that smile on you. It's been months too long. How I wanted to strike at Rogers' face the moment I saw the light in you wavering."

"You saw that?" You prided yourself in concealing your insecurities and the downward spiral that your mind had taken the moment that the new recruit had been assigned to train for the Avengers, painting on a bright disposition despite the interest that Steve had taken in her and the rapidly dwindling attention he paid to you in turn.

It never occurred to you that people might be looking closer than you intended them to. Or that one of those people would be someone you'd carried feelings for ever since long before you and Rogers ever even went out on the first date. You kept on guilting yourself that you were no better than him, if you were being completely honest.

The only leg up you had over your ex was that at least you did right by him and you never acted on anything. But then again you had no reason to believe that you could; in your eyes, Loki had to reason to see you, let alone return your sentiment.

"I see you, Y/N," he murmured, bringing his hand higher up your back, leaning forward, and tilting you backward in a low dip. "I've always seen you." Your heart caught in your throat as you felt him press a soft kiss to your cheek before bringing you both back up to stand upright, a new sequence of movements projected into your mind.

This time of him lifting you into the air, a hand braced on your lower back, the other wrapped around your ankle, followed by a drop that would land you safely in his arms and have the god carrying you bridal style. You could see the silent question shining in his eyes as the projected image fizzled away, awaiting your answer. "I trust you," you whispered, taking a breath as he turned you to face away from him and lifted you into the air with ease.

There wasn't a single doubt in your mind even in that split second where you were falling through the air. You knew you were safe with him. Physically at least.

Emotionally it felt like he was leading you to the edge of a cliff, and you were all too happy to step off if it meant he'd look at you even remotely like he did throughout any point of tonight.

You landed in his arms with a soft, nearly soundless thud, once again met with appreciative applause from the room of onlookers and Tony's voice once again sounding through the speakers. "Jellybean, I take back every joke I ever made about your dancing. Now I know it wasn't you that made those moves bad and that's all I'm gonna say on that. Give it up for these two one more time, ladies and gentlemen!"

A traitorous squeak from the back of your throat slipped from your lips as the god carrying you briefly touched the tip of his nose to yours and pressed a kiss between your brows before setting you back down on your feet, taking your hand in his and lacing his fingers between yours. He led you through the dance floor that was quickly becoming crowded as a rhythmic thumping beat boomed from the sound system, placing you directly in front of him with his free arm wrapped around your midsection.

Once you'd reached the bar, crossing paths with Nat and Wanda and their respective husbands as they made their way to the dance floor, only Thor remained to greet you as you occupied two seats next to one another. "Brother, elation becomes you." Before he walked toward the buffet, handing his empty plate to one of the cleaning staff, he turned to face you. "Take care of him. Actually, take care of each other."

Your brows knitted together as you watched the blond Asgardian walk away, confusion niggling away at your brain as you turned your gaze back to Loki. "What was that--"

The rest of your sentence died on the tip of your tongue as the raven-haired god cupped your jaw, weaving his fingers through your hair, as he closed the distance between you and captured your lips in a soft kiss. You whimpered against him as he stood from his seat, framing your face with his hands as he stepped closer to you, all the while his lips never leaving yours.

He breathed your name as he pulled away, the way that he seemingly sounded almost as flustered as you were paired with the restraint so evident in his hold on you creating a heady combination that made the room spin. "He never deserved you."

Those words had your eyes snapping open, wondering if you'd heard him right. "Loki what--"

"And you should have had someone that treasured you. Worshipped you. That knew with every fiber of his being that he was the most fortunate bastard in the Nine for being the one that you shared the most intimate parts of your life with." Your heart thundered in your ears as he leaned in to kiss you again. "Someone that would proudly show whoever was around to watch that he is equally yours as you are his. Perhaps even more so."

"Are you trying to tell me that that someone is you?" The music had faded away to nothing more than a dull thumping in the background as you looked into his eyes, rife with emotions that you couldn't quite place as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist, stepping closer to you, and leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple.

"If you would let me," he murmured against your skin. "He was but a fool to have let you go. But if his foolishness leads to my fortune, then perhaps I could be moved to despise him a little less." He kissed a trail from your temple to your ear, making your breath hitch again as his thumb stroked at your side and tracing the faint lines of your ribcage while he whispered a deliciously tempting offer. "Leave with me. Let me be the fortunate wretch that gets to take you home. That gets to worship you, to pleasure you. Even if only for tonight, let me make you equally mine as I am yours. As I have always been yours."

His offer alone already had you trembling in anticipation for what he could possibly have in store for you the moment you gave him your answer. "I have to find Nat and Wanda," you blurted out, making a motion to step off of your seat.

"Y/N please--"

"They offered to stop by my apartment after the party," you explained, mustering the courage to press a quick kiss to his lips when you watched in disbelief as a touch of desperation colored his features. "They wanted to make sure I wasn't going to sleep alone tonight. I have to tell them I have other plans."

A brilliant smile stretched across his face as he pulled you in for another kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pulled you against him, lifting you out of your seat and setting you back down on your feet, holding you in his arms the same way he did a few moments ago as you weaved your way through the crowd.

It didn't take you long to find the two women in question, tapping both of them on their shoulders to call their attention. "Rain check on the sleepover?" you shouted over the music.

Wanda took one look at how Loki was holding you and eyed Nat with a smirk. "You got a better offer, I see. Go, babes. We just wanted to make sure you didn't sleep alone tonight."

"Now we gotta make sure you stay awake at the mission brief in the morning because you won't be sleeping at all," Nat capped off with a raise of her eyebrow. She eyed the god holding you with a pointed glare. "If you hurt her--"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Romanoff," he cut her off. "Unlike some people in our non-immediate company, I have every intention of holding on to painite with every ounce of my strength."

Your brows once again knitted together as your friends began to squeal and giggle while you walked away with the god, the alcohol clearly beginning to get to them. "Okay I have to ask. What exactly is painite? You've…said that twice tonight," you prodded, looking up at him only to be met with a tender smile and an intensity burning in his eyes that nearly made you fall over.

"It is the rarest, most precious gemstone on this planet. Perhaps in all the realms," he answered, turning you in his arms as soon as you stepped foot into the corridor and walking you backwards until your back was flush against the wall. "And despite its crimson hue I would still say undoubtedly the most beautiful." You shuddered under his gaze as he trailed a finger from the center of your neck down your torso until he reached your waist and pulled you to him for a fleeting but heated kiss. "That is how I see you. Rare. Precious. And undoubtedly the most beautiful creature I will ever lay my eyes on."

The next moment your surroundings were awash with a wave of his green magic, and you were inside his apartment, your moans piercing the quiet darkness as his lips latched on to your neck and you felt his hands working to divest you of your dress. His next words, rasped against your skin, already had your legs shaking without him having even begun to touch you yet.

"Mine. Finally mine."

A/N: Omg I've finally finished it 😩 And he's precious your honor 🥹 I've honestly had this idea bouncing around in my head for so many days now that I'm so happy that it's finally out for y'all to read and (hopefully) enjoy.

There is a plan for a part 2 of this but it's literally all smut and it's a long ways away because I have every intention to get into 'relinquish the crown' again and also 'back to you'…and also the requests from the 500 follower celebration so just like 'sworn fealty'…it might happen, it might not happen, and that's that on that.

Translations: Himmelske – Heavenly Min gudinne – My goddess

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95

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#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes #Spotify

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