#steve rogers x rea
Text
Apartment #3 - Chapter 3
pairing: steve rogers x undercover!reader
warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff
summary: as an undercover agent at SHIELD, her newest assignment involves moving in across the hall from her target. she's strictly ordered to keep her distance—no personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target neighbor turns out to be Captain America.
excerpt:
Jessica Grace Parker December 4th, 1989 569 Leaman Place Apt. #3, Brooklyn, NY 11201 Registered Nurse NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital
It’s the undercover alias she’s been assigned as a member of SHIELD’s Special Operations unit. The mission objective was rather simple—monitor the target and report updates as necessary.
She’s gone undercover more than a dozen times, so it’s not the details of the assignment or the temporary relocation she’s concerned about.
It’s just that her target was well… more unusual than most.
author's note: an idea that's been living in my head ever since steve asked sharon for that cup of coffee in their apartment hallway. as a SHIELD agent, the reader's real name has been [REDACTED] to preserve anonymity.
masterlist
“So. You all moved in?”
She lets out a drawn-out sigh, leaning back in her office chair.
“Yep. And the new apartment’s somehow smaller than the one I have now.”
“Smaller than a studio in Manhattan?” Thomas crinkles his nose, gaze fixed on his screen as he types off the rest of his latest mission report—a 0-8-4 mission to investigate some unregistered Asgardian technology that was detected on the Portuguese coast.
“Yeah, the whole building looks like it’s been there for at least a century. Wouldn’t be surprised if the plumbing’s gone to shit.”
“Damn.” Thomas tsks, muttering absentmindedly as he gathers the files on his desk, closing up the folder. “…well, if it’s good enough for Cap…” He sighs, before his head raises slowly with a newfound interest.
“speaking of whom…”
Folding his fingers over the desk, he wiggles in his seat in anticipation, like a lion ready to strike its prey.
“Did you see him? How was he? Everything you dreamed of and more?”
She rolls her eyes, snorting.
“First of all, I barely met him.”
Thomas gasps, practically jumping up in his chair.
“So you did see him!”
She shoots him a wide-eyed glare, giving the office a hurried scan.
“Barely, Tom. I just said hi.”
She tries to brush off her coworker’s overt interest, pretending to shift her attention to her monitor as she hits ‘refresh’ on her inbox.
Thomas, of course, doesn’t let up.
He groans, practically climbing on top of his spinning chair in excitement as he leans in closer.
“C’mon, girl, spill! I know there’s more than that.”
She purses her lips, glaring at the unread mail piled up in her spam box before swirling around in her seat, sighing in defeat.
“Fine, he just… he helped me with a couple boxes, and he uhm… hesawmykeychain.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she huffs out another breath.
“That stupid keychain you got me, Thomas? He saw it.”
It takes what feels like a full hour for the realization to sink into Thomas’s face, and when it does, he’s a laughing mess over her desk, clutching onto his keyboard for support.
“H-holy shit, you’re kidding!”
He gasps for air, banging on the table as she playfully shoves his hands away.
“Oh my god, girl, I’d say I’m sorry, but… I’m not.”
At the deadpanned expression on her face, he breaks into another bout of giggles. Just as she starts to seriously contemplate strangling her coworker, her phone buzzes on her desk:
Messages
Grant Ward
1 Message
‘here.’
“Wait, so how did he rea… ugh, please don’t tell me that’s him again.” Thomas remarks with undisguised disgust, his mood making a remarkably quick 180.
“Yeah, we’re meeting for lunch today.” She mutters, slipping her phone and purse into her bag.
“What? What about our sushi date Friday?”
“Next week?” She stands up, shooting him an apologetic smile as she grabs her jacket from behind her chair.
“Ugh, I hope he chokes on his food.” Thomas sings under his breath, swiveling back around in his chair as he rolls his eyes.
“Wait, so what are your thoughts on Grant again?” She smirks amusedly, hand on her hip, purse hanging from one arm.
“Oh, he’s just a sweetheart! So glad you guys are back together.” Thomas claps, blinking up at her with fake enthusiasm.
She only rolls her eyes in response, no longer bothered about her friend’s open disapproval for her on-again off-again relationship with Grant.
2 years she’s known Grant Ward, ever since they collaborated on a week-long asset extraction case in Marrakech. He was the confident, charming type from the get-go—a perfect foil to her more withdrawn attitude around new people—and for the first few months, it felt like a match made in heaven. Things started to get a little rocky around month 5, and though she understands the concerns her friends have voiced about the instability of their relationship, a part of her is determined to prove them wrong.
When she arrives at the first floor of their building, he’s waiting for her at the lobby cafe.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” She huffs out a breath, sliding into the seat opposite of his.
“Hey, one sec” he mutters without glancing up, slumped backward in his seat. His gaze remains fixed on his phone, thumbs moving quickly across the screen as he types out a long message.
She lets out a quiet breath, glancing around at the crowded space as agents and other SHIELD employees walked in for coffee and some quick grab-and-go options: turkey sandwiches, salads, fruit cups.
“I didn’t know this place served lunch.”
“Hmm?” Grant hums after a long pause, eyes flit rapidly across the screen, head nodding though she doubts he’s heard her. “… yeah, just—“ Another ding sounds from his device and his brows perk up, eyes quickly scanning whatever message is lighting up his phone.
She frowns, sitting up in her chair as she leans forward.
“Is that about work? Everything ok?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” Grant licks his lips, sucking in a breath, and the divot between her brows deepens.
“Listen, [REDACTED]….”
He slips his phone into his pocket, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward.
“…I need to talk to you about something.”
An invisible rope goes taut in the pit of her stomach.
“Okay.” She murmurs slowly, eyes flitting between the hard set line of his jaw and the serious lines under his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about us lately, and…”
The rope in her stomach stretches farther and farther, the pressure building up in her lungs.
“I think it’s best if we call this off.”
The rope snaps loose, and the blade of the guillotine swings down.
She opens her mouth, but all the air’s been sucked out of her lungs and she’s left gaping like a fish out of water.
“I… what?” She manages to choke out.
From across the table, Grant heaves out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s just with this relocation gig you’ve got going, I never see you anymore, and I just…. I think we drifted apart, that’s all.”
Her entire body immediately goes rigid at the mention of her new assignment—it was something that Grant had been opposed from the very start:
‘Brooklyn? Really? What the hell does Fury want you to do in that shithole?’
He had complained.
She had tried to convince herself that he was being protective, simply worried because she wasn’t allowed to let him in on any of the assignment details. But deep down, she always knew it was the green-eyed monster—at the onset of recruitment, he was disappointed to learn he wasn’t included in the short list of agents whom Fury considered for the assignment.
She should have known better. About him. About all of it.
“Sorry, are you… are you dumping me right now?”
“No, listen, baby, I think you’re great—“
And the condescension in his voice as he croons ‘baby’ is the last straw that blows the whole fuse.
“—okay, you know what? First off, I am not your fucking baby.”
“…and second, don’t pretend like you haven’t been texting someone else these past few weeks.”
From the small glimpses of ‘miss you <3’ and ‘when are you getting back?’ on his phone, to the way he’d regularly blame overtime for last-minute date cancellations—everything was so obvious in retrospect.
He scoffs at her accusatory glare, as if the idea was unimaginable.
“I haven’t been texting anyon—”
She lets out a sharp laugh, head tilting back as her nose pricks, tears clouding the corner of her vision.
Why had she given him the benefit of the doubt? Deep down, she had known all along.
“—you know what, Grant? That’s great.” She stands up abruptly, chair dragging loudly against the floor as she snatches up her belongings off the table. “…but if you’re gonna cheat on me, at least have the fucking balls to admit that you’re the reason we’re not together. Not me or my fucking job.”
The rest of her work day is fueled with nothing but rage—she nearly breaks her keyboard trying to draft a simple email, accidentally stomping over an office plant on her way to the fax machine. Matters are only made worse when she’s called in to deal with a tense hostage situation that drags on for hours on end.
By the time she gets back to her place in Brooklyn, it’s 8:21pm.
It’s 8:21 pm on a Friday night and her feet are aching, back tense from an afternoon of slumping over the mission control monitor.
It’s 8:21 pm on a Friday night and she’s just managed to climb up the last few stairs to her floor when her phone’s suddenly blowing up with text notifications from Thomas, Kristen from statistics, and a few other close friends from work:
‘OPEN THIS RIGHT NOW.'
‘What in the actual fuck? Did you know about this??’
‘Hey, I thought you should see this.’
Attached is a link to an Instagram story, uploaded by an account she recognizes as one of Grant’s buddies from work.
“What the fuck?” She mutters to herself, brows furrowing as she clicks on the video, squinting at the dimly lit but unmistakeable scene inside of a nightclub—Grant with another woman on his lap, drunk off his ass and laughing as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. The brunette in his lap reaches around, landing a deep kiss on Grant’s lips as his hands slide down her waist. The timestamp reads 10 minutes ago, confirming her biggest fear—not even 8 hours after they had broken up, and he’s parading around with a girl he’s probably been sleeping with for god knows how long.
It’s the third time the video’s playing back on loop when she realizes that angry, hot tears are dripping from her eyes, slowly making its way down to her jaw. She leans against the nearest wall, just outside her door, fingertips turning white at how harshly she was gripping her phone.
How could he do this, after two years of endless work and dedication?
Her knees can barely hold up her weight, stomach bubbling over with betrayal. Her eyes dart desperately across the screen, following their movements over and over and over—she doesn’t even hear the echo of the footsteps coming up the stairs behind her.
“Hey, you alright?” Her eyes snap up from her phone, but she doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is.
Great. Just fucking peachy.
She hastily turns off her phone and swipes at her cheeks, batting at the wet corners of her eyes before facing Steve. It doesn’t take a genius to notice she’d been crying, and his eyes immediately flit across her damp cheeks, the blurred mascara staining her lower lash line.
She fidgets with the rumpled edges of her blouse, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hey.” She mutters, glancing back down at her phone though the screen is blank.
“Hi.” He tries to give her a friendly smile, though the corners of his mouth are noticeably stiff, a small divot forming between his brows.
“Are you… locked out of your place?” He frowns worriedly, eyes darting between her and the door behind her as he steps forward, raising his arm to gesture toward her apartment door. The keys in his hand jingle with his movements, while the other hand is balancing a flat cardboard box, patterned with red and black checkerboards on top. As he shuffles forward, she gets a sudden whiff of… oh, jesus.
Yeasty, cheesy, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh tomato sauce—all of which can only mean one thing.
She licks her lips, eyes flickering to the box in his hand before she clears her throat. She glances back toward her door, shaking her head.
“Oh, no, I just…”
Nope, just crying in the hallway cause I got dumped on by a guy who’s been cheating on me for weeks. How’s your night, Cap?
“… no, I’m not locked out.” She ends up muttering, though her feet stay rooted to her spot on the carpet, barely a few feet away from her door.
“Oh.” Steve nods slowly, pursing his lips.
“…right. Well, I’ll, I’ll see you around.”
Hesitantly, he continues forward, moving down the hallway. Now with her back turned to him, she only hears the soft jingle of his keys and his door creak open. And, yet, she doesn’t hear him step inside.
“Hey, Jess?”
Wincing, she turns around reluctantly, annoyance creeping up at Steve’s friendly gaze. He’s standing at his doorway, keys perched on top of the pizza box, his other hand resting on the doorframe.
Raising his brows, he quirks his head to one side and poses a question that throws her off guard.
“Have you had dinner yet?”
She blinks, and manages to shake her head.
He purses his lips, stepping forward, away from his dim apartment and back under the hallway lights.
“Well, if you…” He huffs out a breath, eyes flitting downwards then back up.
“… if you haven’t eaten yet, would you want to share this with me? Don’t think I can finish it on my own.”
He smiles, brows raised invitingly. Her eyes dart between the pizza box and the unassuming expression on his face, and she sucks in a quiet breath.
“I…” She’s dumbfounded, the second time she’s at a loss for words that night, feeling the whiplash of being dumped a minute ago and now being offered pizza by Captain America.
“…are you inviting me inside your apartment?”
It takes a moment for the implication behind her question to sink in, and when it does, Steve’s face is as red as the squares on the box he’s holding.
He perks up, noticeably stiffening. The tips of his ears are the first to turn scarlet, and soon he’s blushing a deep crimson all the way from his cheeks down to his neck.
He sighs, ducking his head, brows pinched together in distress.
“No, that’s… I’m sorry, that’s not what I me—”
And, despite everything that’s happened, she finds herself trying to bite back a smile.
“—hey, I’m kidding.”
His eyes snap up, eyes scanning her expression before he lets out a breath, letting out a sheepish smile.
“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean for that to come off as creepy.”
And after a while of trying to refrain from smiling, her mouth finally breaks open, and she lets out a quiet laugh.
“It didn’t. You’re okay.”
He seems a little reassured by her laugh, and remains standing in his doorway, door opened only a fraction of the way, and starts to bounce on the balls of his feet.
“Right, so…”
Despite the temporary escape she found in making Steve’s blush, she’s never seriously considered taking Steve’s suggestion. It would be insane, to break Fury’s direct order to maintain ‘no more contact than absolutely necessary’ in the first week she’d been assigned to the mission.
It was still a nice gesture, though. Nice to see that there’s more to Captain America than a friendly smile and a firm handshake.
“Uhm, t-that’s a really nice offer, but… I’m not really hung—”
And what she had planned on saying was: I’m not really hungry, enjoy your pizza.
What comes out, though, is a loud rumbling much further down south, just above her belly button.
She turns rigid, head snapping down to the traitor in her belly. And now, it’s her own face that’s as red as a slice of pepperoni.
It’s only then she realizes that she hasn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, on account of what happened at lunch with Grant.
From the way Steve’s brows perk up in newfound interest, she’s sure he’s heard the noise, and braces herself for whatever embarrassment would follow getting caught in the world’s most pathetic lie by Captain America.
Instead, America’s hero wordlessly steps back out into the hallway, letting his door close behind him with a soft ‘click.’ Finding a spot in the hallway, opposite her door, he plops straight down, laying the pizza down in his lap and stretching his legs across the expanse of the hallway.
She watches, wide-eyed and dumbfounded—it’s almost comical, how he has to cram his long legs into the narrow space between his side of the wall and hers. Bent at the knees, yet the soles of his feet still press against the other side.
She glances down at his sneakers, perched up against the wall—a pair of old-fashioned trainers, navy blue and white, with soles tattered and grey from what seems like years of use.
Her eyes trail up a pair of worn 501 Levis, and a navy blue henley that displays an ungodly amount of muscle even under the dull lighting of the hallway.
“You’re welcome to join me.” Steve grins nonchalantly as he pops open the top of the box, peering up at her under a set of friendly brows, almost as if challenging her to resist.
A tentative whiff as the smell of pizza drifts right up under her nose, and she lets out a loud sigh, dropping her shoulders.
The next moment, she’s turning on her heels. She heads straight for her apartment door and walks through, the door slamming shut behind her.
Not even a minute later, she’s back outside, holding up two ice cold beers by the neck. Hair thrown up in a loosely tied knot above her head, the top two button of her blouse undone.
Steve’s worried head snaps up at the sound of her door, the lines between his brows dissipating in relief. He smirks, sinking back into his seat on the carpet.
She plops down against the wall facing him, handing him a bottle before taking a swig from her own.
“Thanks.”
With a curious gaze, he slowly takes the bottle from her fingers, eyes following her as she tips her head back for a large swig. From across the hall, Steve rotates the box in his lap, offering her the first slice.
As her eyes flit over his order, she can’t help the smile that immediately tugs on her lips
“Good choice.” She murmurs amusedly, reaching for a slice to find it still warm.
“Yeah, figured it’s a classic.” He picks up a slice himself, the one next to the one she’s chosen, and sets the box down on the scraggly carpet.
She nods in agreement, practically drooling at the slice of heaven in her hand.
“Clean. No bullshit.”
A large cheese pizza, classic NY style.
Thin crust, decent char on the bottom though not too burnt. A generous layer of melty cheese and tangy red sauce.
“… wish life was more like that. No bullshit.” She mutters nonchalantly, more to herself than anything. He chuckles in response, the sound echoing down the hallway as he lifts his slice in the air.
“I’ll cheers to that.”
She laughs alongside him, surprised by how much easier it feels to smile all of a sudden.
“Cheers.”
One bite of the crispy, chewy, cheesy goodness, and all her troubles start to melt away.
“Mmm.” She lets out a low moan, eyes fluttering shut as her head bumps against the wall with a soft ‘thunk.’
“…fuck, that’s good.”
“Glad you like it.” Steve responds amusedly, smirking at her from over the rim of his beer. He’s got one arm resting over his knee, leg propped up against his chest while the other remains on the floor. The muscles in his forearms flex as he raises his bottle up to his lips, tipping the drink back.
Before her eyes can wander further, she clears her throat, glancing back down to the pizza in her hand. A second bite shoved hastily into her mouth before she can even swallow the first and good lord, did pizza always taste this good?
“Where’s this from?” She chews, lifting the top of the box off of the carpet to peer at the logo.
Before she can get the top more than an inch off the floor, however, Steve stops her with a quick hand, the width of his palm almost covering half of the box. Her eyes snap up to meet his smirk, brows raised and uncharacteristically mischievous.
“I’m afraid that’s top secret.” He tsks, and she gasps in response, feigning shock with a hand over her chest.
“Wow. Gatekeeping your pizza place? After I offered you my beer? That’s cold, neighbor.”
As soon as the last word escapes her lips, she perks up with a start, biting her tongue at the realization that she’d just used a goddamn nickname to refer to Captain America.
Her gaze snaps up at Steve, fear brewing in her chest to find that he was… laughing.
A good, hearty chuckle, head tipped back and all. Leaning back against the wall, holding his pizza in one hand, clutching his stomach with the other.
From this close a distance, she can spot every detail—like the tiny scar that hides between the small wrinkles on his forehead when he raises his brows. Or the small crows feet tugging at the corners of his eyes. The ridiculously long eyelashes that flutter every time he blinks, casting shadows over the tops of his cheeks. The small ridge in the bridge of his nose that’s slightly off-center. His plump bottom lip, stretching around a set of pearly-whites as he smiles, proposing a question:
“So how long have you been living in the city?”
“Hm?”
She freezes, eyes snapping up to meet his curious smile.
“You mentioned you moved here from Manhattan. How long have you been living there?”
And the sudden segue into this new inquiry intrigues her, more than anything. Because whatever the variation of the question—‘how long have you been coming here?’ or ‘how long have you known so-and-so?’ or, of course, the age-old ‘you come here often?’—they all usually come across as unwarranted and creepy, a half-assed attempt at a pick-up line at best.
Yet, from Steve, it only reads as part of a friendly, neighborly conversation. Open and honest, no ulterior motives. No bullshit.
It’s refreshing, to say the least.
“Not… not too long. Moved here for work.”
She mutters quickly, taking another swig of her beer, and licks her lips as a raw memory edges into her mind at the thought of work, more bitter than the beer that hits her tongue.
“…what about you?” She murmurs, watching a moment of conflict cross his face.
He recovers quickly, smoothing over it with a smile:
“Moved around a couple times, but… Brooklyn’s always been home.”
The bitter bite in her mouth softens a little at the nostalgic note in Steve’s gaze, her eyes tracing the soft creases in his shirt as she recalls his backstory:
Born and raised in Brooklyn, with a WW1 veteran dad who passed early and a mom who worked as a nurse. Not enough money to pursue art school, got caught a handful times getting into alleyway fights. Then tried to enlist on five different occasions, got rejected the first four times. Aside from the basics, though, there was little official documentation on Steve Rogers’ earlier days in Brooklyn.
Her thoughts are suddenly broken by her phone buzzing loudly in her pocket—just by the ringtone, she knows whose calling her.
She freezes, momentarily paralyzed as her phone continues to go off loudly. Steve’s eyes flit over to the source of the sound but remains quiet. After a few more rings, the phone goes silent, before starting up again with another call.
At that, she lets out an exasperated sigh, digging into her pocket before aggressively sliding the mute button on her phone. She tosses the phone on the carpet with a harsh ‘thud,’ hand reaching up to rub at her temple.
“Those are some persistent spam calls.”
Steve murmurs quietly.
She snorts, her rage temporarily dissolving into a dumfounded laugh that leaves her chest aching.
“That would be an insult to scammers everywhere.”
“You avoiding someone?” It’s obvious from his careful gaze that he doesn’t want to pry.
“You could say that.” She murmurs, eyes still lowered to the ground. Then, after a small pause:
“…it’s my boyfriend. Ex, actually.” She quickly corrects herself, scrunching her nose as the word leaves a sour note on her tongue.
Out of the corner of her eye, Steve opens then closes his mouth, giving her a small nod in understanding.
“I’m sorry.”
And, all of a sudden, she feels tears cloud her vision at the first words of consolation, his deep and warm timbre unlocking something fastened inside her.
Fuck, fuck.
“No, don’t be.” She chokes out a laugh as she blinks rapidly, feeling her nose prick with tears. Before she can stop herself, the next words are already tumbling out of her mouth:
“He broke up with me at lunch today. Turns out he’d been fucking this other girl for over a month.”
And it had to be the fatigue, the beer, or some combination of both that was loosening up her lips right now, because there was no way her lucid self could be consulting Captain America about her goddamnlove life.
“…and he had the audacity to break up with me. Can you believe that?”
Steve stays silent for a while, and she doesn’t have the courage to look up. Then, out of the blue:
“He sounds like a real asshole.”
Her eyes snap up as she lets out an incredulous breath, smiling.
“You’re damn right.”
Two more slices of pizza and a couple beers later, the weight on her chest feels noticeably lighter.
“Thanks for the pizza, my treat next time.”
An empty promise, she knows.
There can’t be a next time.
Steve nods, smiling.
“Anytime.”
He takes a small pause, pursing his lips as he casts a quick glance down at the carpet near her feet.
“…shame you got rid of it.” He murmurs.
“Hmm?”
“Your keychain.”
He points at the the set of keys resting on the floor between them, which had fallen out of her pocket sometime during the night. Upon realizing that he was referring to the absence of the red, white, and blue shield—she had made sure to remove it after the embarrassing encounter earlier that week—her confusion quickly turns into red hot embarrassment.
So he had noticed.
“Uhm, yeah, it was uh…” She clears her throat, bending down to snatch it off the floor.
“…getting a little bulky.”
“Bulky, huh?” He quirks his head, raising his brows, and the tip of his nose catches the lighting in the hallway.
“….so you’re not a fan?”
Eyebrows raised incredulously, she turns to him, eyes carefully surveying the unreadable expression on his face.
“I’m sorry?”
“Of Captain America? I noticed your keychain was his shield.”
She knew this man was good, but surely he couldn’t be that good?
It had been less than a week since the start of her mission. If he had already caught onto her identity, she would surely be saying goodbye to her steady 7-year-career at SHIELD. Upon a second glance, however, she realizes that the teasing glint in his eyes is a little less strategic and a little more… demure.
Could Steve Rogers poking fun at her keychain because of some other reason?
Her cheeks grow pink at the thought, but she pushes the thought elsewhere.
And because he thinks that she’s the clueless one in this conversation, she decides to play along, lips curling up in a coy smile.
“I don’t know… I always thought he was kinda overrated.” She pouts, fighting to suppress a smile.“
“…Captain America. Even the name sounds kinda douchey, don’t ya think?”
Contrary to her expectation, he lets out a loud laugh, head almost knocking against the drywall behind him. He glances down at her, hands on his hips, giving her a curious smile.
In this light, she thinks, he almost looks like the Captain America from the WW2 recruitment posters in the 30s—the fresh-faced, doe-eyed version of him untouched by decades of war.
“You know, I’ve always wondered who came up with that name.”
That night, as she waves goodbye to Steve and retreats into apartment #3, Fury’s voice bounces around in her head: ‘…primary directive is to maintain minimal contact with him. Nothing over what’s absolutely necessary.’
Yet, in the solitude of her bed, all she can think about is Steve—the soft peaks of his hair under the dim lighting of the hallway, the concerned divot between his brows when she had teased him. How he had leaned into their conversation so that he could hear her better, as if Captain American didn’t have better things to do than to listen to her tragic little love tales. That boyishly charming smile he had on his face when he offered her pizza, and again when he asked coyly about her keychain—so much of that innocent warmth she thought he’d lost.
Reminiscing the nostalgic light in Steve's eyes when he'd told her that Brookyln’s always been home, she begins to wonder just how deep the blue runs.
Apartment #3 Masterlist
#captain america#steve rogers#mcu#mcu marvel#the avengers#marvel#mcu fic#marvel fic#steve rogers fic#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers x you#captain america smut#captain america fic#captain america x reader#reader insert#angst#light angst#hurt/comf#hurt/angst#hurt/comfort#eventual smut#eventual romance#friends to lovers#strangers to lovers#neighbors au#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers au
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Hey babes💕
Can u please write a sequel to "To give you what you need" where she gets pregnant. I really wanna know what would Steve do!
Hiya, luv!!💝
Oh lord yes, here it comes!!
Keeping you
(Edit: this has turned into a multiple part series - /Masterpost/)
Pairing: Soft!Dark! Steve Rogers x reader
Word count: 4k
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, pregnancy anxiety, forced pregnancy, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral (female recieving), vaginal sex, mild violence, lots of crying.
Summary: After Steve’s meticulous work and your lack of choice, you're pregnant. His reaction has you finding yourself in a whole new predicament.
Note: This is the third installment following Taking what he wants and To give you what you need. These have all been quick scribbles without much editing, so please forgive any jarring character changes, kink swaps and general plot holes. Not beta-read either, so I'm living on the edge here.
Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you not to engage if the content of the warnings trigger you.
My work is not to be distributed outside this blog.
It felt like your stomach dropped clean out of your body and through the floor. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears like a raging river during spring floods.
On the bathroom counter in front of you, the test was mocking you.
Positive.
“Oh god,” you whispered to yourself. You’d just sat there crying for about an hour, miserably holding your own shoulders in an attempt at self-soothing that seemed to have no effect.
You’d been suspicious for a few days now, carrying the sneaking, gnawing feeling that something was different inside you. But you were hardly surprised. Barely two days had gone by between Steve’s visits after he’d caught you taking Plan B. You wondered how in the hell he had the time and resources to hound you so insistently.
It had always been inevitable, of course. Since that first night, you had been completely at Steve’s mercy, and now you could feel the bonds of his control tightening, making it hard to breathe.
Pregnant. Fucking hell. You didn’t even know what he did for a living. He’d told you once he was a secret agent, whatever that entailed. Like James Bond? CIA? KGB? Was he a good guy? Who the fuck knew, it certainly didn’t feel like it. He felt like a dangerous, reckless maniac. And now his child was growing inside you? Like a parasite. You could barely support yourself.
You took a deep, fortifying breath.
No, you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. There was no way. You needed to find a way out of this, whatever it was, this thing with Steve had gone too far.
You took your phone out with shaking fingers and typed in a search for the nearest abortion clinic. Next state over, 14 hours drive. Fine. You had the day off tomorrow anyway, and it wasn't like anyone ever noticed you at the yarn store anyway.
Getting a small bag packed in a matter of minutes, heart in your throat, you threw the test inside - in case you needed to check on the way and make sure you didn’t imagine things. Adrenaline pumped painfully in your chest as you slipped out into the night and got into your car. You looked over your shoulder all the while, paranoid Steve might lurk in any shadow. You got out of your driveway and took the highway heading south. Steve had been there the night before, so it was early for him to return, but you had learned the hard way never to assume anything about his behavioral patterns.
“Oh god, your mouth,” he’d sighed, stroking your hair softly as you took him in, the weight of him on your tongue anchoring you as his scent made you light headed. Everything was so wet, your pussy pulsing as he slid into your throat, a breathy moan on his lips.
You nearly reared into another vehicle. “Shit,” you exclaimed, and clung to the steering wheel as the thoughts whirled around in your head.
You’d driven for about an hour when the road cleared, and you were all alone, surrounded by thick forest. Glancing at the clock, it read 01:03 am, and you stifled a yawn. There was still a long way to go. Outside the street lights passing by shone a warm, yellow hue, and glancing up you saw the stars shining bright in the night sky.
Glancing back to the road, your eyes nearly popped out of your head. Ahead, a figure stood in the middle of the road, and you stomped the breaks hard. The wheels screeched. Your stomach surging, the car ground to a full stop and you slammed back into your seat with a grunt, knocking the wind out of you. Panting, you looked up.
It was him.
Instant tears pricked your eyes and you felt faint with the sudden horror of the situation. He’d found you. How were you going to explain this?
Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm.
You sat still, not really able to move, stiff with fear. He slowly moved forward, almost tauntingly as he walked up to the car.
Don’t run, he’ll know for sure then that you’re hiding something.
But your fear won out, and your mind went blank as you tore your seatbelt off, ripped the door open and bolted off the road, running into the ditch on the side and through the bush, into the treeline. Your sweater snagged on a branch, and you stumbled over a stump, feeling drunk as you stumbled through the night, not seeing a goddamned thing. You just needed to get away, die falling off a cliff if necessary.
It was futile, of course. Deep down you knew it was all futile, you were never going to escape.
Sure enough, Steve caught up to you, grabbing your arm in a steel grip. He spun you around and pulled you tight to him, his other arm wrapping around your waist to secure you to him.
You shut your eyes, a whimper escaping your clamped shut mouth, mind whirling as you started to prepare for your punishment. This will hurt, you thought miserably to yourself, preparing for it the best you could, trying to cool your frantic breathing.
But nothing happened. Above you, you heard the wind rustling the trees softly. You noticed how cold it was, shivering with it now, and Steve was breathing so soundlessly, he might as well be made of stone.
You cracked an eye open and looked up at him. His eyes were steady on your face, his lips in a neutral line. He didn’t look angry, he didn’t even look upset. He looked…guarded, thoughtful.
You opened your other eye, studying him closer for any trace of emotion, opening your mouth to say something, finding you had nothing to say. You stuttered, blinked, frowned, dumbfounded by his lack of reaction.
“You’re coming with me,” he said then, his voice brooking no argument, his look steely. He turned and started to tug you along by the arm, back the way you came. But you didn’t go back to your car, just walked straight past it on the still empty highway, and then into the treeline on the opposite side.
“M-my car,” you started
“I’ll come back for it later,” he cut you off, not even looking down at you.
Coming up through a clearing, tumbling awkwardly behind Steve’s confident walk, your eyes landed on what looked like a private jet, just sitting there, in the woods. A moment later, you realized Steve was walking straight up to it, and confusion scrambled your mind. Did he own this? Where was he taking you? Who the hell was this man?
§
The jet jolted as it touched whatever landing spot you’d come upon. This was kidnapping. No one would find you now. Not that anyone would come looking. You had no family left and your social life was practically none existent. Except for Steve’s visits, ironically enough - which was probably why he’d kept you through these last months. No one to tell, no one to miss you.
Steve walked intently to the back of the jet where you sat, unstrapped you from the intricate safety straps and hauled you firmly, though more gently than you’d expected, to your feet. The jet plane opened at the back, a flash of wind making you squint painfully before you saw the house in front of you.
Well, not house, mansion. With a distinct cabin-like aesthetic, but there was no mistaking that this was the home of someone powerful and wealthy - even in the dark of night. Your jaw fell slack as you took it all in. There was a small pathway dotted by spot lights leading from the landing patch, through an elaborate, though wild garden trimmed with lanterns and into the huge, three story building cluttered with tall windows. Your apartment looked like a broom cupboard compared to this, and you almost felt embarrassed over it if this was where Steve lived.
The inside continued the lavish display. Huge, expensive looking furniture, walls lined with art depicting urban New York-esque motifs and row upon row of diplomas and awards, medals and honorary memorabilia. No pictures of family, nor any clutter. Every surface was shining and spotless, not even a carelessly strewn magazine or a lone standing coffee cup to be seen. If this was where Steve lived, it didn’t seem like he lived here. It didn’t feel like a home.
Steve hurdled you through a large living room as fast as your shaking feet could keep up, up a grand staircase in the main entry hall, down a long hallway and in through a set of double doors at the end. It was a bedroom, though not recently slept in from what you could tell. The immaculate made up bed must have been a double king size with about fifty pillows on it. Steve pushed you down almost rudely, and you bounced on a mattress that felt like a floating cloud.
Steve dumped your bag next to you. You hadn’t even noticed he’d brought it with you.
He stood before you, hands on his hips, stance wide, that same, undecipherable, neutral expression on his face. Your defiance sparked, you were irked and annoyed and tired of being panicked.
He didn’t say anything, clearly expecting you to growel, and you refused. The silence stretched on. He cocked a brow, so arrogant, so entitled, and fury rose high in your throat like bile.
“Fuck you,” you snarled under your breath, immediately fighting the urge to wince as you realized what you’d said. This would get you in trouble.
Steve didn’t react at all.
“Do you have any idea how unsafe that part of the state is at night?” he asked, and the infuriating irony of him lecturing you on danger had you scoffing in frustration.
“How did you know where I was?” you asked back.
He reached into a pocket and pulled out your mobile phone. Your jaw went slack as realization hit you.
“You tracked my phone!?” you asked, horrified.
“I track everything, including your search history,” he said matter of factly, putting your phone away again.
You felt a pang of nausea, mind swimming momentarily as you mulled that over. All those months of googling how to prevent pregnancy naturally, how to escape abusive relationships, how to get away from stalkers. And he’d seen it all. Heat rose on your cheeks.
The abortion clinic.
You’d never even stood a chance. You sighed defeated and put your face in your hands, vehemently despising feeling so exposed.
“Show it to me,” he said then, bringing you back from your thoughts.
A beat of silence, the night completely soundless.
“What?” you asked, not following.
He made a pointed look at your bag.
The test.
You didn’t want to show him. Couldn’t bear it.
“I left it at home,” you lied.
“No, you didn’t.”
“I threw it out,” you lied again.
“No.”
“I don’t-”
“y/n, you do not want to try me right now,” he said, and the downright ice in his voice made you shiver, fear settling a cold sting in your chest. You wanted to cry.
Slowly, you bent down and unzipped the bag, searching past your joggers and toothbrush to that familiar shape and feel of the pregnancy test. You pulled it out slowly and held it out in your hand, eyes down on the bright orange, lush carpet on the floor, not able to meet his eyes.
The test was taken from your hand and you let it fall to your lap. What were you going to do?
The silence droned on again. You briefly wondered how he would react. How smug he would be, how mean and condescending, how possessive and objectifying he would act, how he would torment you with the knowledge that he had done it. The thing you’d fought so hard. Marked you as his, made you pregnant with his kid. With his seed as he liked to call it in his throws of passion. You ignored the memory of how feral that had made you sometimes.
You heard a shaky exhale, so small that if it wasn’t for the crushing silence in the room, you would have completely missed it. Confusion had you looking up before you could think, and your mouth fell open again.
His eyes were glossy, wide as they stared down at the test in his hands, his brows in a small frown. It was the first time he’d looked anywhere near vulnerable in all that time you’d known him, and it tipped you off your axis, warped your mind with confusion.
He looked up to meet your eyes and instantly got down, sat on his knees in front of your sitting form on the bed. His hands, searingly warm through the fabric of your pants, landed so gently on your thighs, pinning the test, the herald of your doom, firmly to your thigh as his eyes didn’t leave yours.
There were tears there, making the blue shine so bright it caught you.
“You’re a miracle,” he whispered, and you almost recoiled with the shocking sincerity in it.
He stared into your eyes for so long, and you wanted to break eye contact, but couldn’t. Just couldn’t.
He took a large breath, again slightly shaky.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you, I swear. From now on, I’ll always keep you safe,” he said then, a hand moving up to press so tenderly to your belly, the warmth seeping into your core, almost too hot. “You…and our child,” he continued after a beat, his breath hitching as he breathed in again.
You didn’t move. Were too shocked too. This must be a dream, you thought helplessly as Steve broke the eye contact to stare lovingly at your stomach, his fingers stretching and curling slightly against it. This must be a weird dream, this isn’t my life.
But it was. And there was Steve. Moved to tears at the truth of you being pregnant with his kid. So tender and sweet where he’d been so unrelenting and harsh before. He’d never let anything happen to you he’d said, completely glossing over the fact that he had happened to you, and now sealed your fate.
He leaned forward, slowly, bending over your legs and pressed his face into your belly, his breath warming the fabric of your sweater. He pulled the fabric up to reveal the skin underneath and pressed a lingering kiss there, slick with spit. He kissed it again, slowly, and then again, slightly more urgently.
The tension grew hot and fast like it always did, and you could feel it like air right before a summer storm - sparking with electricity and premonition. Steve gently pried your legs apart to shuffle between, still pressing wet kisses to your stomach.
“So good,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re a miracle. So good to me. So good for me,” he continued, as if to himself, as if so overwhelmed by his emotions, the words bleeding from him like blood from a cut. His kisses almost felt like cuts, overwhelming you with contradicting, heart wrenching confliction.
Maybe you should just give in. Give in to him. Let him have you, possess you like he was determined to do. Maybe you just needed to take comfort in him now, to let him soothe away your anxieties with his conviction. That this was a good thing, could be a miracle like he said, and not the utter demolition it felt like.
His hands slowly moved to unbutton your pants, gently prying them off you, and you let him. What choice did you have? At least this was familiar. You could lose yourself in this, let yourself be obliterated by his hands, mouth, body and cock like you had so many times before.
Discarding your panties with your pants, Steve stayed on his knees on the floor by the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders as he lowered his head between your thighs. He devoured your cunt, tongue mapping it out with his spit, and you fell backwards on the mattress, letting your mind go blank with the sensation.
Despair slowly enveloped you, tears blurring your eyes before trailing from the corners and into the hair at your temples. He moaned into your mound, growing incessant, his hands grabbing your hips tightly. It felt like the world was spinning away slowly, sinking, bleeding out of oxygen and leaving you aching.
You came with a keen, convulsing quietly on the bed, thighs clamping down around his head as he groaned, sending vibrations through you. The tears kept coming, a silent river flowing down your face.
He slowly got to his feet, crawling up over you and pulling you further up the bed with an arm around you. He saw the tears and your face and raised a warm, calloused hand to wipe the wet away.
“Shh, no, no. Sweetheart, I know this is scary, but it’ll be alright. I’m here,” he said low and soothing, bending down to kiss your eyelids as they slid close. A small sob broke from you.
Yes, exactly.
You didn’t move as he slipped between your legs, sitting back on his haunches. He unbuttoned his plain, blue shirt. He was wearing regular clothes, you noted, not able to care. As his skin was unveiled, sculpted muscles rippling elegantly under smooth skin, your hands absentmindedly reached up. You stroked up his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch under your touch. He panted softly as you caressed him, but you felt nothing. Couldn’t care. It was like every feeling you had was muted, had bled out along with your tears.
There was no point either way. Your life was over. What is freedom, integrity and autonomy good for anyway, when I can live to be underneath Steve’s body, you thought sarcastically and bitterly to yourself.
His eyes followed your hands, wide and intent, and you could see how hard he was, the bulge in his jeans obscene.
Yes, fuck me. Fuck me til I can’t even remember my own name. Make me forget everything.
“Make me feel good,” you whispered out loud, pleading, eyes meeting his, body lethargic, heavy and dull.
He didn’t even seem to notice, his pupils blown wide, breath picking up as he hastily unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down just far enough to free himself. He lowered himself down, leaning on one hand as his other guided him inside you, slipping in in the most subtle way, like two puzzle pieces linking together in a chain of a thousand others. You gasped slightly as he bottomed out, the sting of his girth welcome as everything else was just numb.
Oh, who were you kidding. It felt good. In spite of everything, when Steve did this, it always felt good, and the guilt of making this an escape, cowering away inside this one respite, this silver lining, stung along with new tears in your eyes.
He started moving slowly, rocking you softly on the mattress as his body lowered to lay flush against yours, warm and heavy. You wrapped your heavy, limp arms around his neck, just letting the movement rock you, letting him do as he wanted.
He turned his lips to your ears.
“You’re gonna stay here from now on. We’re gonna raise it here. Together. Be a family, you, me, and our child. Our baby,” he murmured, interjected by soft grunts. “You’re mine. Finally, completely mine.”
His hips picked up speed, moving more frantically, his cock spearing you with the pulse after pulse of pleasure. You felt the distinct need for it to be harder. More painful. Not tender and intimate like this. Like you were lovers, in love, married, about to have a kid together. You wanted him to choke the life out of you, hit you until your skin turned raw and red, bend you til your bones protested and pound you like he was punishing you. Until he drew blood. Like he had done so many times before. But no, he chose this moment to be sweet.
He leaned up on his arms again, staring into your eyes as he grinded inside you, the way slick and easy for him.
“I love you,” he whispered, so genuinely and achingly gentle.
You came, back arching off the bed, a strangled noise catching in your throat. Your whole body stiffened to the point of pain, and Steve fucked you through it, slowly, eyes boring into you, taking in every minute detail. He followed into his own orgasm as you came down from yours, groaning loudly as he jerked twice inside you, and you felt the warmth of his come as his cock pulsed familiarly against your trembling insides. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, panting hotly against the skin, his whole body slumping to pin yours down.
The distracting pleasure faded away like a dull ache, and you were defenseless against the welling grief washing over you again. The anxiety that always sparked after he’d come inside you was gone now. The damage is already done, you thought bitterly. A little extra seed would make no difference now. He had thoroughly claimed your body as his.
Your body jerked with a sob underneath Steve. He raised his head and looked at you, hand coming up to wipe at your tears again.
“Hey now, what’s this?” he asked softly, brows drawing up in a fond expression.
You couldn’t even muster enough strength to be provoked by his ease, his audacity to play ignorant to what he was doing to you - what he had been doing for months.
“Just let…let me go,” you whispered.
He looked at you, and his brows twitched, delicacy starting to bleed away from his afterglow.
“What?” he asked.
“Please. I don’t want this,” you said, voice small and frail.
He blinked a few times and you could see his mind warring against your words. This was not what he wanted to hear. He never wanted to hear those words.
“I do-”
“No,” he said, quickly pulling out of your body and sitting up on his haunches. You stayed lax on the bed, legs spread, his come leaking out of you, your arms slung out on the mattress at your sides.
“I don’t want this. I don’t want you, I don’t want the child,” you said, and you sounded so dead, so lifeless and muted, speaking the words to the room more than anything. You just needed to say them out loud - to have given this last, defining defiance. To protest out loud - if only for the symbolic meaning of it.
You heard Steve’s breath pick up again, and knew this wasn’t wise, was not going to save you - was probably going to come back and bite you in the ass later. He wasn’t pleased. But you didn’t care. If he was going to steal your life, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of playing house with him willingly. Not just yet.
“You don’t mean that,” he said, voice steely, but you detected that small undercurrent of anxiety.
“I’ve never meant anything else,” you countered, still staring up at the ceiling, not moving save for your steady breaths, tears still falling silently from the corners of your eyes.
Silence.
“We’ll see,” he said, or rather, gritted out through his teeth, and you felt the mattress dip as he got off the bed. “You’ll stay here, eat and sleep. I’ll get your things soon, including your car, though you won’t be needing it. This place has everything you need - fully stocked pantry, a cinema, pool, good outdoor grounds and a library. If you want any other books, let me know and I’ll get them for you. Food as well. Though I don’t want you to be unhealthy, I suspect whatever cravings you get can’t be helped.”
He talked as if discussing a matter of business, not mapping out your prison for you. The ceiling turned blurry as you stared, exhaustion starting to seep into your bones.
“Oh, and y/n,” he said, bringing your eyes to him as he lingered in the doorway, pants and shirt buttoned again, “if you do anything to harm yourself or the child, you will never leave this room again.”
§
Note: I'm thinking of maybe continuing this as a series. Possessive, unhinged and slightly yandere Steve always gets me going<3 Lmk if you'd be interested in reading more of these two<3
Edit: Weee, it’s a series!!! Here is part 4
#dark!steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x y/n#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers smut#dark!steve rogers smut#soft!dark steve rogers#soft!dark steve rogers x reader#soft!dark! steve rogers smut#soft!dark! steve rogers x reader#in the balance
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MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendations '23: January
Welcome back to monthly to semi weekly fanfiction and more list recommendations. It used to be VelvetCardiganBucky’s list, but I changed my name. New Year, going through residential treatment soon, new me, new name. A lot of new here at this blog. I follow my username in hashtag form, so tag me in your fics, challenges, to be added in future list. Do not be afraid to message me I will answer back as soon as I possibly can! — Katy K.
This blog and its content is attended for mature audiences, so unless you are over the age of 18, it’s best you turn back now. I’m not in charge of your media consumption there, for you cannot come for me when you don’t like something you read. Thank you.
<< April '21
February '23 >>
My Masterlist
One-Shots:
Start A War by @angrythingstarlight >> Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mob!Steve Rogers - Summary/Request: Another take on what could have been if the reader had decided to stay with Steve, not Bucky, in Pretty Little Liars story. | I always love reading anything written by angrythingstarlight, whether it's on here or it's on AO3. I have yet to read Pretty Little Liars, but this snippet has made me add it to my to-read list.
Looks Better On You by @navybrat817 >> Lumberjack! Stever Rogers x Reader - Steve can't stop thinking about how good you look in his shirts. | You got yourself the perfect amount of alluded smut, and you got yourself the lovey-dovey stuff. It's perfect, just perfect.
Could've Just Asked, Baby by @wndalovebot >> CEO Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader - Summary: All you wanted was, was some time with your CEO mate Bucky, but he seemed to busy for you lately. Well maybe calling attention to yourself was the best thing you ever did. | Did the room suddenly get 10 degrees hotter?
Still into You by @loverwebs >> Peter Parker x Scarlet Witch!Reader - Summary: You and Peter didn’t end things on the best terms and wind up seeing each other again at an Avengers party. | This is what I can picture as a realistic relationship with a fight between a super couple. The ending is *chefs kiss.*
Series:
The Happy Couple: Chapter 6 by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor >> Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader - Summary: Your father makes a deal to marry you to his top capo. (mob au) | The story just really picked up, but you can't really ever go wrong with reading one of Roo's stories. They are just so good.
AO3:
In The Mood by SkylarJames22//@skylarjameswrites >> Mob!Bucky Barnes x Shelby!Reader - Mob Boss doesn't take too kindly to the beautiful Skylar trying to take over his territory in America. He comes to her to make a deal and get her to back off, but a Peaky Blinder never backs down from a fight. | HOT! HOT! HOT!
And They Were Roommates by staygold483 >> Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x OFC - Summary: Luka has just finished her college degree and moved back to her hometown to live with her boyfriend. She runs into some of her old high school classmates, who support her when she really needs them. One of those people, is her high school crush, Bucky Barnes. | I read this story after it was completed and loved it, the ending is okay, but the story it's self is what holds it for me.
One-Shots:
Sweet Nothings by @secretswiftymarvelfan >> Chris Evans x Reader - Summary: When the world is out there pushing and shoving, all you’ve ever wanted was sweet nothings. | I'm pretty sure I have to go make a dentist appointment with Robert Evans, that's how sweet this is, and I love it.
Jealousy's My Best Friend by @cockslutpadalecki >> Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader - Summary: You can’t help but be a little jealous when Andy pays another student some attention. | Oh, don't act like you wouldn't be jealous if someone gave Andy extra attention. I know I would be.
Trust by @worksby-d >> Chris Evans x fem!Reader - Summary: Your second first time together. | (Read Warining, then proceed if interested.) I found this one-shot to be adorable, as well as sweet in how caring Chris was. I would definitely come back to read again on my sad days.
Housewife Duties by @lilacevans >> Ari Levinson x (non-descriptive) Female!Reader - After Ari's been gone on a long grueling work trip, you want to do whatever you can to make him feel comfortable. | I need to start my Thursday mornings, or any morning in general, honestly, reading stuff like this. It would put me in a better mood.
One-Shots:
Closer to Me by @kiki0005 >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: After you get pregnant with Tommy's child, he is adamant that you move in with him. | If I'm honest, I would let Tommy Shelby tell me what to do any day. So this one-shot of him was up my alley because he's asking and telling. Definitely worth the read.
*I'm Yours by @sunsetbeachesandwriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader ft. John Shelby - Summary: Your body is for Tommy and Tommy alone. | I'm a fan of possessive Tommy Shelby, and I didn't know it till I read this, or I just forgot. So good.
Dada Tommy by @quinnsbower >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy is left to watch over his 6-month-old while his wife eats with his sister. What could possibly happen? | This was so adorable, funny, and just plain loving. I love Dad!Tommy, especially to baby girls. Makes my heart go pitter-patter.
The Clap by SunsetBeachesandWriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Jealousy never looked so good on someone like Tommy Shelby, especially when all he wants is you back. | If a man ever did this to me, I would slap them. If Tommy Shelby ever did this to me, I would swoon.
Promotion by @sunsetbeachesandwriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Y/N is Harry's daughter and works in the Garrison until Tommy decides to "fire" her. | This is both a mix of hot and sweet. I could picture season one or two of Tommy doing this with a massive smile on my face.
Love Is Sweeter Than Vengeance by @pherelesytsia >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Burglars break into the mansion in search of the safe and stumble upon the lady of the house. | This was so suspenseful as well as hot. Just how I like my Tommy Shelby.
You're Everywhere, Love by @sunsetbeachesandwriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Everyone has Tommy feeling overwhelmed. He walks out in the middle of a family meeting and goes to the one place he knows he'll find some peace. | I'm definitely not crying, and I'm definitely not going to suggest you have a box of tissues on standby when you read this.
Series:
The Boy in the Window by @notyour-valentine>> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: (Y/N) thinks the boy her daughter sees in the window of the neighbouring house is nothing but a childish fantasy; after all, no one has lived there for years, but when she brings that boy to lunch, she realizes that he is in fact very real and above all- the son of none other than the infamous Tommy Shelby. | While I'm only five chapters into this story, it's quickly becoming one of my favorites that I've read. We get to see more of Charlie and more of Tommy's sensitive and protective side.
AO3:
*Tommy's Red Right Hand by HisRedRightHand >> Tommy Shelby x OFC - Summary: As if being left in charge of the two youngest Shelby siblings wasn't enough, Tommy decides to ask a redhead as ornery as he is and her six-year-old sister to take up residence at 6 Watery Lane. | At 115 chapters so far, I took my time to cherish this story because that is how much I thoroughly enjoy reading this. I highly recommend that you head the warnings that come in the tags in the summary that come with this before you dive in. The author does a fantastic job warning you about each chapter as well.
One-Shots:
A Flower Petal by @jelsasnowflakes1 >> Geralt x Fem!Reader - Summary: When being teased for still being a virgin at Kaer Morhen, geralt comes in and "comforts you" when he sees you crying. | It's fluffy and smutty, but it's the ending for me in the end.
Sleepless by @sgt-seabass >> MobBoss! PrimeAlpha!Nick Fowler x Omega!Reader- Summary: Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul. | Nick knows what he wants. This is sweet because he knows he will have to make an effort to change how he acts around her.
Series:
Happatance Pt. 6 by @teds-mustache-wrangler >> Henry Cavill x OFC - Summary: Henry is about to go to bed one night when he suddenly gets a text from a random number he doesn't know. What happens when you accidentally text the star actor of The Witcher? Memes apparently. Lots and lots of memes. | I was privileged to beta-read this chapter for Wren and am honored. This is a spicy one y'all so sit back and enjoy some Henry and Lizzy!
AO3:
*A Twist In Time by Comet96 >> Tommy Shelby x Lupin!OFC - Summary: Romy Lupin was a walking cliche. She has her father's metamorphmagus abilities and also seems to be a seer. During her last year at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle is brought from his teenage years at Hogwarts into the year 2047, and soon after, Romy finds herself being sent back into time. Back to 1926, when Merope Gaunt was still pregnant. It's Romy's job to protect Tom Riddle Jr. from being taken into the wrong hands. It was all going to plan until Merope knocked the time turner, and they ended up in 1916, in the middle of the first world war and with no way to get back to 1926. There she meets the Shelbys and somehow manages to find her feet in dingy Small Heath with the help of Harry Fenton, Squib, and a distant family member. | At 43 chapters and hasn't been updated since the middle of September, this story is Harry Potter, pre-Fantastic Beast meets Peaky Blinders, and I'm living for it. It has everything magical-wise you could ask for and Shelby-wise as well. I just wish it would be updated, but dreamers can dream.
Legacy by cl410 or @i-like-plan-m >> Darcy Lewis x Bucky Barnes - Summary: Darcy Lewis meets the Hales from Teen Wolf. (My poor summary.) | I love Stiles from Teen Wolf, and I love this What If twist that the author has done with Darcy. The whole series is good, and I recommend everyone give it a read if you are a fan of Darcy Lewis or MCU and Teen Wolf.
Blue by galaxiejoon >> Louis Tomlinson & OFC >> Summary: Elle is a seven-year-old girl who meets Louis and asks him to describe the color blue to her. | This is adorable and made me tear up the first time I read it in years. I still tear up every time I read it.
@peakyscillian - Looking for a masterlist to binge or just a variety of Tommy and Cillian? I would check out Laura's page and her writing.
@teds-mustache-wrangler - Are your Henry Cavill needs not getting met? Do you feel like perhaps you need to read about Henry Cavill, but haven't yet? Well go on down to Wren's blog, she has all your Henry Cavill needs met.
@gypsy-girl-08 - If you are a fan of Cillian Murphy or Peaky Blinders, then I would check this writer out. They have many Thomas Shelby series to choose from as well as Cillian Murphy
#ktk recommends#ktk reads#midnightswithdearkatytspb#hp fanfic#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x oc#thomas shelby#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#mob!bucky barnes x reader x mob!steve rogers#mob!steve roger#steve rogers x reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans#professor!andy barber x reader#andy barber x reader#andy barber#mcu#mcu x reader#peaky blinders x reader#the witcher x reader#geralt of riva x reader smut#geralt of river x reader#the witcher#geralt of rivera
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Daddy’s Back: Step Mom? Part 4
Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Bucky Barnes x OC [Mara Collins], OC [Mara Collins] x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Fem!reader
Bucky Masterlist ✸ Steve Masterlist ✸ Series Masterlist
Summary: Steve tries to apologize for keeping a secret from you, Mara invites you over for lunch, and you and Bucky have a talk.
Warnings: mention of pregnancy, mention of being a dead beat dad, tension :0
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: What do you guys think of Mara? We hate her? Think she’s decent? What do we think?
Italics: flashbacks
It’s been about a week, since Steve told you he knew about Mara, and you weren’t ready to talk to him. Though, you couldn’t avoid him because of the kids and he was coming over everyday. Finally you just gave in because you were tired of it.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking at Steve through the window on the side of your front door.
“(y/n), please, can we talk?”
“You had ample time to talk and now I’m dealing with 2 men who don’t know how to tell the truth from the get-go.” You spoke, not holding anything back.
“(y/n), I’m sorry, what can I do to say I’m sorry?”
“I know, I know, just where do I start.” He begs, knowing this isn't going away overnight.
“Well, since you’re here, you’re watching the kids today, I’m meeting Mara for lunch.” You said as you let him inside the house.
Steve was kind of shocked. Seeing that you were going to meet Mara for lunch, what he didn’t know yet was that Mara was pregnant and you intended to keep it that way for a while. “Oh, you must’ve enjoyed lunch with both of them.”
“No Steve I didn't enjoy lunch, I got to know Mara and Bucky did some explaining. Nothing about this situation is enjoyable. I just need more to work with and she invited me over to her house.”
“Oh, well, I’m happy to watch the kids.”
“I know, Steve,” you walked away before pausing, “I think it would be a good idea for you and Bucky to talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say to him.”
You didn’t feel like going back and forth with him so you just rolled your eyes.
Iris and Canan ran downstairs when you finished talking to Steve, “mom, are you going on a date?” Canan asked, catching you extremely off guard.
You cleared your throat, “No, sweetie, why do you ask?”
“You’ve been going to lunch a lot on Saturdays,” Canan observed, like the bright child he is.
“Oh, mom’s just hanging out with some friends, no dates.” You smiled, clearing up the situation before turning around and staring wide-eyed at Steve. “I’m going to go get ready for lunch.”
Once you were dressed you said bye to your observant kids and to Steve and headed to Bucky and Mara’s house. Dates? You thought. You never talked to either of them about going on dates. Must be some kids at school. Dating wasn’t really in the picture for you right now, you never really thought of dating someone after Bucky, I mean look where it got you. You’re a single mother with 2 kids and your ex-boyfriend comes back married and has a baby on the way.
You pulled up to Bucky and Mara’s house and you’ll be honest, it was beautiful from the outside. I guess this is the house that a company owner can buy. You got out of your car and knocked on your door, Mara opened the door with a huge smile, “(y/n)! Come in, come in.”
Mara went to the kitchen grabbing a glass, “Would you like something to drink?”
“Water is fine, thank you.” Mara hands you the water and invites you to the living room to sit. “Thank you for coming really.”
You sat down on the opposite couch as Mara sat down. “Thank you for inviting me, you have a lovely home.”
“Thank you (y/n).”
You sipped on your water a little bit before Mara broke the silence, “I know this is a lot, and if I were in your shoes, I’d have so much to think about and consider, so I get it.”
You nodded, happy she understands the situation you’re in, “thank you, yeah, I never thought Bucky would come back, and I definitely didn’t think he’d come back with a wife and baby on the way.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, I just really want you to know that you’re a great mom, but I’m sure you already know that and I don’t want to cause any problems in your family and its dynamic. I’m just Bucky’s wife, but Bucky is your kids' father.”
“Thank you, Mara, but you're married to Bucky and you’re carrying their baby sister. I’m not going to take anything out on you because you didn’t ask to be in this situation, Bucky made this situation and you’ve been very kind towards me during all of this.”
Mara smiled. “Ever since Bucky told me about Iris and Canan, I have wanted to meet them. Bucky has shown me a couple pictures of them that he had,” she explains.
You’re puzzled for a minute because you didn’t know he kept some pictures when he left. “I didn’t know he took pictures when he left. What pictures did he show you?”
“It was a picture of you, him, and the kids. Canan looked about 1 and Iris was still a baby.” Mara responded.
You nod not recalling that picture but you couldn’t shake the fact that he kept a picture of the 3 of you.
“Looking at Canan I could just see how much he looks like Bucky, like his mini me,” she pauses, a grin rises on her face, “I’ve been impulsively buying them clothes.”
You smile at Mara trying to shake off the picture, “Oh god, they don’t need any more clothes, me and Steve buy them enough.”
Mara laughs, “let me show you.” Mara gets up and leads you down a hallway to a room all the way to the end. She opens the door and to your surprise, it's a bedroom for Iris and Canan. 2 beds against both side walls, 2 buckets of toys, and 2 nightlights in the wall. You continue to follow her over to the closet where she hands you a bunch of clothes on hangers. “It’s so bad, I buy them stuff when I shop for the baby but I didn’t know if it was appropriate to give them to you, considering the situation.”
“Mara this is extremely nice of you, you didn’t have to do this.” You explain, then gesturing at the room, “you didn’t have to do this either.”
“I want all 3 of you to feel welcome here, and when I talked to Bucky about changing one of the rooms into a room for them, he agreed. I just hope you don’t think I’m trying to butter you up or something.” Mara laughed.
“That's really nice of you both to do this, I’m sure they’ll love it when they see it for the first time.”
Mara walked out of the room and down the hall to another room, “this is the nursery, I can’t believe she’ll be here in just 13 weeks, we still haven’t thought of a name, it sure is hard naming a baby.”
“I remember that, when I was pregnant with Canan it went by fast, but when I was pregnant with Iris, it seemed like the days were so slow. Mainly because I had Canan and he was still really little. I spent a lot of time talking to Iris and Canan when they were in my belly,” you confessed, smiling. “Me and Bucky didn’t decide Canan’s name until he was already born.”
You noticed a shift in the air when you made eye contact with Mara. Bucky must’ve told Mara how he treated you while you were pregnant because she frantically apologized out of nowhere. “I just feel terrible about how he treated you (y/n).”
You shook your head, “There’s no need for that, he did it, not you. What he did is not a burden on you, Mara.”
She nods and just turns back to look at the nursery, thoughts swelling up in her mind. Silence fills the air for a minute then Mara remembers, she invited you over for lunch. “I don’t know what you like to eat so I didn’t make anything, but I can order you whatever you want.”
“Pizza? Do you like pizza?” You asked, knowing well about the nauseousness of certain foods while pregnant.
“I love pizza and so does the baby.” She giggled, walking into the kitchen to look for the pizza place’s number. You stayed there and gazed into the nursery, memories flooding your mind.
You were laid out on the floor reading the instructions to put together Iris’ walker. You groaned trying to figure out what piece goes where. Iris crawled over to you, babbling and smiling.
You sat up, putting her in your lap, “I’m trying to put your walker together baby, but I am terrible at this. We’re going to have to wait for Uncle Steve.” Iris giggled in response.
Mara ordered the food, 1 large pizza and breadsticks, while you looked over the baby names. Once Mara finished ordering the pizza she came over to you. “Before Bucky left for work he said he wanted to talk to you, I believe it’s about the kids.”
“Oh, okay, thank you for letting me know.”
You and Mara chatted until the pizza arrived and you tried to pay for it but she beat you to it. She set out some plates and the pizza in the middle of the table. The both of you washed your hands then sat there and ate Pizza while telling stories and just getting to know each other.
You found out that Mara is an only child, her parents had her later in life, she wasn’t planned but she was loved. She went to college to become a teacher, but she opted to run her father’s company instead.
“That’s a complete change in profession.” You commented before sipping your water.
“Yeah, I was against the idea at first, but my dad wanted someone in the family to run his company, since the ‘Charles Collins legacy must live on.’” She said, mocking her dad’s tone.
“Would you ever leave the company and teach?”
“I would, if it meant the company would be in good hands.”
You smiled as you understood where she was coming from, “I understand, it's your dad’s lifelong work.”
Mara nodded, “Yes, it's one of the reasons I go by my maiden name instead of my married name.”
You make a note after Mara tells you that. Maybe that's why Steve didn’t know they were married, because Mara goes by her maiden name because she runs her dad's company.
“What about you (y/n)? If I may ask? What do you do for work?” Mara asks after biting into a piece of pizza and swallowing.
“I’m certainly not a CEO of a company. Just your casual desk job that pays decently. Since I wasn’t thinking about college when I had Iris and Canan, I never went.”
“If you wouldve went to college what would you have studied?”
“I honestly don’t know, maybe something on the technical side, but I didn’t go because I already had 2 young kids at 23 and I was working full time. I just thought it was better if my kids had a mom that was there and made them happy.”
“Despite all that you’ve been through, you’ve made a successful life for yourself, I hope that your proud.”
“Thank you Mara.”
The more you spent at Mara and Bucky’s house the more you started to like Mara. She was an open book. Once you finished eating, the both of you started cleaning up the mess and that’s when Bucky walked in. He greeted Mara, and then said hello to you.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He says, taking his jacket and boots off.
“No, not at all, we were just finishing up lunch,” Mara says, putting the leftover pizza up. Bucky comes over to Mara, giving her a kiss and rubbing her stomach.
“(y/n), could I talk to you really quickly before you leave?” Bucky asked, directing his attention back to you.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Great, just give me 10 minutes so I can get all of this oil off.”
You agreed to wait 10 minutes and continued talking to Mara until Bucky came back in. Mara went to the nursery so you and Bucky could talk alone. You sat at the dining table and Bucky sat across from you.
“How was work today?” You asked, breaking the growing silence.
Bucky nods, “Pretty good, got a lot of customers today.”
“That’s good, I’m happy for you, I know how much you love that shop.” You pointed out, smiling.
“Thank you.” Bucky smiles. “So I wanted to talk to you about the situation when the baby is born, I have no legal rights to see Iris and Canan, and whatever you choose to do, I will follow because I lost my rights a long time ago.”
“Well,firstly, we will have to tell them who you are and who Mara is, and we’ll go from there. You can come by as much as you want, and then we can talk about them coming here.”
“Thank you (y/n). I don’t deserve any of this.”
“You’re right, Bucky, you don’t. This is for Canan and Iris’ sake, so they know their father.” You stated, letting him know how you feel, you continued, “What you did to me,” you paused, “ to our family, isn’t just going to go away overnight. I suffered because of your actions and I still do. I am a single mother because of you Bucky.”
“I know and you shouldn’t have to suffer because of me. If I would’ve manned up and been a father and boyfriend this would’ve never happened.” Bucky admits, running his finger through his hair.
“You got that right. If you actually cared and loved your family.” You snarkily replied, folding your arms.
“I did love and care about my family (y/n). I have always had love for the 3 of you.”
“So much you went off and got married and got someone else pregnant, that’s an excellent example to show how much you loved your son and daughter and how much you cared about me.” You continued, “Mara told me you kept pictures of the kids. Why?”
“So I’d come back.”
“So you kept the picture out of guilt. You wanted yourself to feel guilty enough so that you’d come back and be a father. Bucky, that's pathetic. Did you come back out of guilt?”
“No. I didn’t come back because I felt guilty. I did, but not like that. I didn’t want me and Mara’s baby to have a father and not Canan and Iris. I felt guilty and wrong for abandoning my children.”
“But not me? Not the woman who carried and birthed your children. You didn’t feel guilty abandoning her?”
“(y/n)..”
“Actually no, I don’t want you to answer that.”
Bucky didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if anything he could say or do would be enough. You and Bucky sat there, looking at each other as you felt your face burning because of how upset you are.
You waited a few seconds before asking him another question. “So after you left us what did you do? Because I’m sure your parents didn't take you in.” You weren’t holding anything back at this point.
“I was working. That’s all I really ever did. That’s why my shop is more updated. I worked and worked until I had enough money for renovations. I was getting tired of looking at the same old shop.”
“The one that had all the memories of when I would come to your shop and have lunch with you.” You responded in a low voice.
“It’s not like that (y/n)-.”
You stopped him before he could say anything further, “You don’t have to plead your case to me, it’s obvious you wanted to forget me but remember the kids.”
A brief silence washed over the both of you before you spoke again, “Bucky, I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I'll ever forgive you, but I will move on, for the sake of our kids, and your daughter.” In all honesty, you were hurt then and seeing him come back hurts now. You wonder, why, but you’d never ask. You know why, he just left because he was a coward, and that's good enough for you.
After a long dreadful conversation between you and Bucky, you were just ready to go home to your kids. You said bye to Mara, thanking her for lunch, and she made sure you hand you all of the clothes she bought and give you a hug. You said bye to Bucky before leaving.
You quickly drove home and Steve’s car was at your house, lunch must’ve ended early. You grabbed the clothes Mara gave you as you knew you couldn’t avoid the conversation that was coming up. You walked into the house, putting the clothes down, Iris and Canan running to hug you. “Hey you two, did you have fun with Uncle Steve?”
“Yep!” Iris yelps and Canan nods, seconding her response.
“That’s good, I’m happy you two had a good time.” You smiled before kissing their cheeks. Iris points out the clothes as you put them on the dining table, “are they for us momma?”
“Yes, I got them from a friend, a gift to the both of you.” You said to Iris, since Canan was already gone. You could hear a light scoff from the living room as you showed Iris the clothes.
‘We can put them in your dresser later, okay?” Iris nods and runs back into the living room to watch tv. Steve pops up off the couch and meets you in the kitchen, “how was lunch?’
“I heard your little scoff, don’t act like you’re actually interested in how lunch went.”
‘I am actually interested in how lunch went, (y/n), why wouldn’t I be?”
‘I am not about to argue with you when my kids are in the next room.” You spat, lowering your tone. “I am not about to do this. I am not in the mood.”
“So you can hear Mara and Bucky out but not me?” Steve asks, making you roll your eyes.
“I can’t believe you’re playing that card,” You snicker, “stop acting like you’re mister perfect, because you aren’t. Mara, on the other hand, has been great during this whole ordeal. She bought my kids clothes and made them a room at her house. Which she didn’t have to do, but she did.”
“I just wanted to protect you from him, I didn’t think he’d stay.” Steve said, defending his actions. “He’s caused enough pain.”
“Steve, I love you, I do, but that is not your choice to make, you could’ve told me Mara existed months ago and you didn’t.” You snap, facing away from him and holding your hands behind your head, “do you know exactly what you did, Steve? You kept important information from me, and why? Do you even have an answer as to why? Bucky had an answer to why.”
Steve shook his head and looked away. He knew why he did it, he just couldn’t tell you. He didn’t know how. Either way it wouldn’t fix the situation.
“I don’t know how I’ll move past this, I don’t know if we can, Steve.”
‘You did it with Bucky.” He whispers under his breath, just enough so you can hear.
“Steve. Yes, I told Bucky I would move on, but you have no idea what it took for me to say that, to do that. He left me and the kids, and not only did he leave, he came back. He brought back all that rage that I shoved down deep for their sake, and you, Steve. You’re supposed to be supporting me, not making things worse, not leaving me in a position where I don’t know if I can trust you. My best friend.”
“I’m sorry, but (y/n), you can trust me, I just want what’s best for you, Iris and Canan.”
“So do I, Steve, they’re my kids.”
Please do not steal, copy or translate my writings, or post them on other sites.
Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated :)
Bucky&Steve: @qhbr2013 @allforkook @supremethunda @amelia-song-pond @tinylumpiaa @sammypotato67 @weenersoldierr @leyannrae @teebarnes @teti-menchon0604 @mogaruke @instabull @ccosmic-illusion @supraveng @1-800-imagines
DB Tags: @vicmc624
Kofi
Taglist
#bucky x y/n#bucky fluff#Bucky Barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x oc#steve rogers x oc#buckyswintersoldiermasksfics#buckyswintersoldiermask’s fics#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers x fem!reader#Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x fem!reader
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is pmiam posted? this isn’t meant to be rude or pressuring or anything, i’m just not sure if i need to fix something in my settings bc it isn’t showing up for me 😭😭
oh my, yes it is !! it's pinned on my blog, but if you didn't change your community guideline settings then you won't see it.
here's the link:
edit: here’s the link to ao3
#pmiam ask#if no one can see it i am going to scream 🫥#fic ask#bc i just reposted it#at this point i'll just share the link to ao3 🥲
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Ich habe 2.363 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet
1.292 Einträge erstellt (55%)
1.071 Einträge gerebloggt (45%)
Blogs, die ich am häufigsten gerebloggt habe:
@holylulusworld
@moosekateer13
@jay-and-dean
@b3autyfuldisast3r
@caplanbuckybarnes
Ich habe 2.358 meiner Einträge im Jahr 2022 getaggt
#lulu answers – 651 Einträge
#dean winchester – 435 Einträge
#timezone reblog – 218 Einträge
#bucky barnes – 215 Einträge
#sam winchester – 209 Einträge
#lulu reads – 197 Einträge
#fic recommendation – 181 Einträge
#steve rogers – 174 Einträge
#dean winchester fanfiction – 162 Einträge
#dean winchester x you – 162 Einträge
Longest Tag: 124 characters
#want to reiterate the part where if you can't follow the three laws you are actively making it unsafe for creators in fandom
Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:
#5
True Mate
Square Filled for @marvelfluffbingo (2022): Cooking together
Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader
Word Count: 2,3 k
Summary: Faking it is not that hard.
Warnings: angst, language, shitty parents, feisty omega, bisexuell Steve & Bucky, implied smut/claiming, fluff, nesting, scenting, Bucky is a big softie, Steve too, he just hides it better, a/b/o, jealous Stucky, protective Stucky, cuddling & snuggling, fluff
Rating: Mature
Divider by @firefly-graphics
<< Part 1
2022 Marvel Fluff Bingo masterlist
Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen
771 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 20. April 2022
#4
Biker bucky fucking you dumb and making you squirting on the kitchen counter, while the biker gang is in the Livingroom watching superbowl
This is a continuation of Mine, period
Warnings: smut, Biker!Bucky, a hint of voyeurism, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, language, squirting
Since Bucky got you back that night, he's obsessed with you.
He won't leave you out of sight for too long.
He's clingy, always afraid to lose you to someone else.
Bucky would make sure to touch you, kiss you all the time.
He'll make you wear his clothes. It makes him rock-hard to see you in his old shirts, wearing only panties underneath.
Bucky would pull you close and kiss you or just hold you for a moment when his friends are not looking.
Tonight you are in one of his old shirts. You want to watch the game with his gang. A casual Sunday. You are in your old sweatpants and his shirt.
Big mistake...
You find yourself on the kitchen counter moments after you excused yourself to get more food for his hungry gang.
"You look so good in my clothes," he purrs, fingers curling inside of your dripping cunt. "I'll make you mine all over again."
"Buck-" breathlessly, you grip his shoulders hoping and praying no one will enter the room. His sweatpants drop to the ground, revealing his throbbing cock to you. "Not now."
"Now," he silences your protest with his hungry mouth, kisses all your doubts away as he steps between your legs to replace his fingers with his cock. "Just like that, taking my cock so well."
"B-" it's a mess. You desperately cling to his body, mouths sealed together. Hungrily you take every thrust, moaning as he fucks you into the next week.
It feels like he wants to make your body his home. He pushes you further and further, never letting up until you are a dripping mess.
Your slick soaks his cock, and you cry against him as the pressure gets too much.
"Oh, fuck!" you gush all over him. "Buck. What the fuck!"
"Fuck yeah," he groans in your ear. "I made you squirt, doll. I fucked you six ways from Sunday on a Sunday."
Panting you look up at Bucky. "That was..." he smirks knowingly, ready to take you apart with his fingers too.
"Guys...if the show is over, can I have another beer?" you swallow thickly as Steve looks at you and Bucky. "Or can I join the show?"
>> Headcannon 2
845 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 3. März 2022
#3
Feral Cry
Title: Feral Cry
Square filled for @afgomegaversebingo: Early heat
Rating: Explicit
Summary: He wants only you...
Pairing: Alpha!Soldier Boy x Omega!Reader
Warnings: language, angst, a/b/o, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, scenting, claiming, penetrative sex, this could be read as dubcon (it’s con to me. just in case), implied true mates
A/N: Please consider I don’t write canon for Soldier Boy most of the time. It came out a little softer than I wanted to.
Words: 1,7 k
Divider by @firefly-graphics
AFG Omegaverse Bingo masterlist
Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen
942 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 15. Juli 2022
#2
You are beautiful (1)
Summary: You’re the tech nerd at the Stark tower, considering Bucky Barnes to be your friend.
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Plus-Sized Reader
Characters: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff
Warnings: angst, language, unrequited love, low self-esteem, fat-shaming, sadness, pining, fluff, miscommunication, beefy Bucky is a clueless puppy, talk about sex, a hint of dirty talk, virgin reader
Divider by @firefly-graphics
You are beautiful masterlist
Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen
1.015 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 5. Februar 2022
Meine #1 des Jahres 2022
Fake Mate
Summary: Faking it is not that hard.
Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, shitty parents, feisty omega, fake relationship, bisexuell Steve & Bucky, implied smut/claiming, fluff, nesting, scenting, Bucky is a big softie, a/b/o, jealous Bucky
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen
1.369 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 29. März 2022
Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →
#tumblr2022#Jahresrückblick#Mein Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022#Dein Tumblr-Jahresrückblick#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review
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Avengers Masterlist
Steve Rogers:
Lazy day and a Walk in the Park-(Steve)
It is you and Steve in a lazy day, when you get board. You convince Steve to join you on a walk, and he surprises you with something.
Christmas with Steve
Steve comes home after a mission and you two exchange surprises
Fight of Your Life (Steve)
You save Steve in a mission after he’s knocked out and after you get ambushed when walking home
Cap’s Old Uniform (Steve)
Can I please get a Steve x reader - Steve hasn’t worn his old uniform in a while and it’s just been hiding in the attic until (Y/N) came across it. She brings it down and makes Steve try it on for her.
Bugs
request: It's a steve x reader fluff, where they are neighbors and one time when steve is hanging out on the readers' apartment, the reader suddenly screams while preparing lunch(changed to popcorn and movie) and steve discovers the reader is sooo afraid of cockroaches, he finds it amusing and funny and the reader is still panicking and holds onto steve
I really hope he meant it and it wasn’t just a fantasy. (Steve)
Overview: After Steve has been gone on a mission, you get a call from a nurse informing you he’s been in the hospital. When he wakes up he’s a tad confused.
Is That a Yes? (steve)
Overview: Steve comes home to reader after a long mission and well he makes it all worth the wait.
Out of Harms Way
Overview: You are dating Steve and he leaves Bucky with you to keep safe. After a very long mission he comes home to his favorite people
Flu Season with Steve
Word Count 466
Overview: your boyfriend Steve got the flu and you take care of him
Bucky Barnes:
Captive to Captivated- Bucky
You are forced to work for hydra and being smart you find a way to make the best of things especially since you were put to work with someone with less control than you.
Company
Cap is going on a mission but doesn’t want to leave Bucky alone so you being the good friend that you are offer to help out
Company part 2 (bucky)
You and Buck go on a trip where you two grow close
Unexpected Friend (Bucky)
You get kidnapped by Hydra because the winter soldier decided not to kill you and then become friends with Winter Soldier
About Time Bucky
Your doing work while Bucky falls asleep while watching tv and starts talking in his sleep.
Night Terrors (Bucky)
Bucky is having difficult sleeping while Steve is away on a mission
You really did make a friend (bucky)
Overview: Reader is the tower cook, but Bucky keeps stealing readers supplies. So reader decides to do something about it
Twisted Friendship (bucky)
overview: Reader was almost one of the winter soldier’s victim and after surviving faces recovering Bucky
Anchor (bucky)
overview: After Bucky joins the team he isn’t always aloud to go on missions with Steve due to clearance and all and one day reader decides to make friends with him.
Social Media (bucky)
Overview: You work at the Lab with Stark and one day Bucky swipes your laptop
Mission part 1
Overview: Reader starts off as HYDRA agent who was sent after the winter soldier but learns something about not only the winter soldier but herself bringing her to the light
Part 2
Overview Bucky finds the reader aka his daughter and brings her home
He’ll be Back
Overview:story of where Bucky was for the two years
The Stimulator Room
Bucky is scary to someone who doesn’t kno any better. You learn to see his softer side
X-mas
Overview: Steves away and it being the holidays reader decides to take Bucky under their wing
The Terrible bad Day
Reader comes home early and scares bucky
Flaws and All
Reader has some insecurities and Bucky is well in love with it all
Insecurities
Bucky and you get in a fight for reasons like he wants to meet your big and a tad judgmental still awesome family and turns out to be simple insecurities that Bucky assures you he loves
Steve/Reader/Bucky
Friend in Need
Steve, reader and Bucky are in a race to find readers best friend
It Takes a Village, Steve. (steve/reader/bucky)(part one)
Overview: Reader is Steve’s neighbor. Steve often walks reader to work but recently he seemed tired since Bucky has moves in so reader has offered to help out with Bucky.
Separation Anxieties (Steve/reader and bucky)
overview: In preparation of Steve and reader, Steve’s girlfriend possibility of not being around, Buck’s Therapist has Buck stay at Sam’s
I'll make You Pancakes
Overview: Your Steve’s girlfriend and wake to Bucky in bed with you two because he couldn’t sleep so you decide to comfort him.
Tony Stark:
Peace Keeper -Tony-Steve-Bucky
Overview: in this the reader is named Sarah Jamie Carter (you’ll find out why) and have known Tony since he was in diapers. You are about 20 years older but for some reason stopped aging at 20 or at least really slowed down you help slow things down between Tony and Steve
Family at Last part 2
picks up after peace keeper though the peace had to be fought for in part 2
Word count:480
Pietro Maximoff:
Ice-cream (Pietro)
you’re reading and Pietro is bored so you two run shenanigans at the store.
Movie Night (Pietro)
You and Pietro are best of friends, but recently Pietro has been acting a bit funny. You decide to confronts him and he confesses his feelings
Flirting in the Park (Pietro)
Overview: You are super shy and Pietro finally gets you out for an unexpected date
Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Pietro)
Pietro and reader got romantically involve and but the two have some issues and when reader is ready to call it quits Pietro pulls it together because he realizes how much he loves reader and they take it slow after that
Maybe I will
Overview: after Ultron and Pietro is brought back to life he has to recover, reader helps him through
Wanda Should Ditch Us More Often (Pietro)
Overview: Reader has a thing for Pietro and vise versa but neither knows about the other so Wanda gives the two a nudge
Change of Heart
Word Count: 925
Overview: Reader gets kidnapped and Pietro is working for the kidnapers (HYDRA) eventually he figures out reader is not supposed to be there and tries to help reader escape but things don’t completely go right
The First Date-pietro
Overview: reader is violet from the incredibles and Pietro has a little thing for her/you
You Are Go to be the End of Me!
Overview: Reader has been dating Pietro for a week a long time friend before he goes off for a mission calls to tell reader all is good till something goes up in flame leaving the reader in the dark.
Be my Wife
overview: Pietro and you have been dating 2 years and he decides its time to pop the question
One of them or not
Overview: Pietro misguidedly helped Hydra kidnap you and still you become close to him
You’re Amazing I love you part 2
Overview (part 2 of one of them or not)Pietro gets close again with reader and gets a first date
Final Project
Overview: You are finishing your final projects for school but are stuck and your wonderful boyfriend, Pietro knows exactly how to fix it.
Loki
On your Toes
Overview Loki and reader are dating and reader may think they have a handle on him but he is tricky and keeps ya on your toes
Other:
Steve’s Son and Bucky’s Daughter
You are bucky’s daughter and on todays escapade you basically let yourself in steve’s house to wait for his son to come home.
Car Ride
Danny Steve’s son picks up you Buck’s daughter for school
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Masterlist
Last updated: 27 April 2021
Requests: OPEN but at a slow rate (one shots, head canons, or drabbles, please specify in the request if you want a specific one
Crossed out = coming soon
Check out my other fandom stuff:
To Be A Hero - Bakugou x OC!Female
Drabble Masterlist - Updated 12 June 2020
Headcanons Masterlist - Updated 15 September 2020
Fortune Teller Masterlist
Bucky Barnes
I’m Going to Spin You: Bucky teaches the reader how to dance in preparation for Tony and Pepper’s wedding.
Proud: Y/N needs to interview someone for a history assignment and who better to go to than Bucky. Mentor!Bucky/Teenage!Reader AU
Beautiful Soul: The team decides to let loose after a rough few months with some singing and some alcohol, what could possibly happen ;)
The Unspoken Deal: When Bucky holds your hand in public, he rubs his thumb against your skin to ground himself when he’s anxious.
Blast From the Past: The gates are open and the memories are back. And maybe it means someday you’ll get normalcy back.
Sergeant Boinky: Bucky’s got a new interest and Sam and Y/N are taking full advantage of it.
Classy Girls: They met in a bar. Inspire by the song Classy Girls by the Lumineers
You’re Being Dramatic: Bucky sees something he doesn’t like and his mind goes haywire without even finding out the full story. If you want a happy ending to this angst piece this is it.
Garbage vs Little Shit: The neighbour’s cat is a little shit. The neighbour? Eh...
Abort Mission: It’s Bucky’s turn to catch you reading fanfiction 👀 (companion to Seargeant Boinky but can be read separately) NSFW
Two Nerds in a Blanket: In desperate need for a date to your work's Christmas party you, reluctantly, seek the help of one Bucky Barnes.
Adore You: Bucky is always asking you for favours, how can you say no to those eyes and that smile?
Prince Charming: Who’s your favourite Disney princess? Who do you want to be your prince charming?
Together: You’ve got some news but are too scared to tell Bucky but he’ll find out one way or another
The Trail We Blaze: Bucky takes a trip down memory lane through his old home and no one is quite sure how he’s taking it.
The Dynamic Between Us: You need a ride and god forbid you have to call Bucky in your time of need. That damned man and his stupid ways of being in your life.
Multiple Parts:
Fourth of July - Part Two: The Fourth of July is hard for some People but you try and make it a little bit easier with some not so simple editing. COMPLETE 2/2
Place Your Bets: Money is on the line and the months are counting down so who will win the bet to when Bucky and Y/N finally get together? And will they figure out what’s exactly going on? COMPLETE 9/9
Friend or Foe: A dead body comes up on the Avenger’s radar that threatens to leak some unpleasant moments and people from Bucky’s time as the Winter Soldier to his friends that he thought he’d never face again. ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY
Exhibition of Future Technologies: Bucky meets the girl of his dreams the day before he ships out again and she holds a mystery about her that he can’t resist. COMPLETE 4/4
Tough Guy: Bucky swears he’s over it. Y/N swears she’s fine. A cliche when their worlds collide together after all this time. But wounds run deep. COMPLETE 9/9
Calm - Guardian Angel: She’s there, whenever he needs her she’s there in his ear telling him what he needs to know. Greek Myth AU COMPLETE 2/2
The Lone Kiwi: a series of drabbles that cover the first year of research analyst Samantha Thompson’s career with the Avengers after being recruited by Tony Stark. The New Zealander is thrown into the deep end of American culture and spy life as she packs up and moves halfway around the world. ON HAITUS INDEFINITELY
Steve Rogers
Lady Liberty: A look through the times between Captain America and his Lady Liberty. 1944 - 2017
Reality is Cruel: Y/N’s grip on reality is taken away from her when she’s kidnapped while on a mission. While the team tries to find her she watches her biggest fear happen before her eyes over and over again.
We’re Married: A fluffy modern AU really.
Light and Fluffy: Missions can be tough and so it takes the right attitude to be able to deal with them day after day. You and Steve seem to have different attitudes though.
Our House, Our Rules: Drunk and happy even if the new guy has Y/N nervous but that won’t stop her winning the tournament…
No More Waiting: Steve has waited long enough and after Thanos, he refuses to wait any longer for the life he wants. A continuation from this drabble.
I Trust You: Steve doesn’t trust many people. Lest of all you. At least that’s the message you’ve gotten, it might not be the message he’s trying to give you. NSFW
A Question: On the drive home from a mission a serious conversation comes up between the two of you, you should try bowling.
Shut Up: Exams at the SHIELD academy are coming up and with that members of the Avengers have come to observe the next potential heroes. Some are more promising than others.
Last Call:When Steve finds himself in a dive bar in the middle of no where with nothing left to do but wallow he’s saved by a glass of whisky.
Multiple parts:
Shut Up - Part Two; Vigilante: Exams at the SHIELD academy are coming up and with that members of the Avengers have come to observe the next potential heroes. Some are more promising than others. COMPLETE
Release the Hounds: Hades can’t step foot in the mortal realm, she never strays far from home and isn’t welcome in Olympus. Steve believes the queen should have a place beside her brothers, to rule with them instead of in the shadows, invisible to the eye. Not many share his opinion though and the consequences of that may be worse than the god of spring could have imagined. COMPLETE 15/15 NEW
Sam Wilson
Honey-pie: Sam will do anything to make you his, he’s tired of the back and forth and the fact you’re always taken. He just wants you to be his girl.
Bit of a Weirdo: You’re a bit of a weirdo, always saying wack shit when no one else is around to hear it, except Sam.
Multiple Parts:
Hella Feelings: Sam x OC + Bucky x OC There are always oddballs in apartment buildings, the old lady who always smells like cheeseballs, the guy you’re pretty sure is a drug dealer. Then there’s the two girls who should have ‘chaotic clowns’ written on their foreheads from the amount of laughter that comes from their open windows. There’s also the two guys a couple floors down that have had the police called on them not once but twice for yelling at each other over a video game. Maybe together the four of them can make one normal human being...or then again...maybe just a dumber clown? COMPLETE 11/11
Peter Parker
Evil Spider: Based on the song Evil Spider by Benee. Peter follows the girl who caught his eye home, just to make sure she gets there safe.
Something Familiar: You find yourself dangling over a cylinder of acid after exploring an 'abandoned' warehouse. Spider-Man comes to your rescue in all his glory but you find something oddly familiar about him..
Clint Barton
KleptoCat: Clint likes to take your stuff but this time he swears it wasn’t him.
Five to One: The five times your life was a rom-com and the one time you got a happy ending.
Broken Bones and Bruised Hearts: Clint remembers you protecting him, always there for him. You live in his dreams always.
Loki
He Consumes Me: Thor said that Loki is gone, for good. She was beginning to finally accept that. No longer would he consume her thoughts or control her mind. No longer would he trick her.
#masterlist#marvel au#bucky barnes au#bucy barnes imagine#peter parker au#peter parker imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#steve rogers au#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x rea#steve rogers x y/#bucky barnes fanfiction#steve rogers fanfiction#peter parker fanfiction
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Stucky x reader SMUT (Part2)
Part1
Masterlist
#bucky barnes fic rec#steve rogers fic recs#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader x steve#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers one shot#bucky barnes one shot#fic rec#steve rogers smut
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Cruel Summer (Chapter 2)
Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Female Reader
Summary: It's a normal day for Alpha Steven Grant Rogers.
Well, if you don't count the fact that his childhood friend and best pal James Buchanan Barnes is currently on trial for his crimes as the Winter Soldier. Paired with his responsibilities as an Avenger, there's a lot on his plate.
Until he meets you by chance in an elevator.
You're just trying to figure this new world out after being frozen for forty years. You're hoping for a fresh new start. A new normal.
And then you meet Steve.
Life can't get worse... right?
Chapter Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, mentions of medical injuries, Hydra, sexual tension between Steve and the Reader, past mentions of an alcohol/drug abuse, past mentions of physical abuse and domestic violence, feelings of loneliness, elder child syndrome, vaginal fingering, and mild sprinkles of Possessive!Steve.
Additional Notes: I can’t even with myself. This chapter turned out to be wayyyyy longer than I thought it would be. My muse sorta just ran wild with this one. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! I had tremendous fun writing this one.
As always, apologies for any writing mistakes!
And as always, if you’d like to read chapter two of this fic on my AO3, you can read it here.
Word Count: 7961
Steve was still watching you even after you had managed to find a room for Bucky.
He watched as you instructed Clint and Natasha to lay the other Alpha down onto the bed, and asked if Bucky could take off his own shirt. When the brunet shook his head no, you slowly took off his blood-soaked shirt yourself.
A deeply pained noise came from Natasha. It seemed like someone had stabbed Bucky with a shard of glass in his stomach, and now there were little pieces that needed to be dug out.
You let out a soft sigh.
This would take a while.
“Keep laying there, James. I will need to get my things in order to take out the glass.” he heard you say.
So, left to lay there on the bed, Bucky tried to desperately look up at the white ceiling, ignoring how bright the lights in the room were. It was definitely giving him whiplash.
“What happened, Yasha?” he heard Natasha whisper to him. Craning his eyes over, he managed to look over at the redhead. “Someone tried getting into a fight with me at the County Jail,” he sighed. “I knocked them out, but they managed to get me with the glass, and the bullets in my shoulder were from a security guard.”
“Security guards have guns now? Since when?” Clint’s surprised, but a low hiss caught Natasha and Bucky’s attention. Clint and Natasha continued to squabble back and forth in Russian, much to Bucky’s amusement.
Steve had found himself walking inside, just as you had come back, nearly all of your tools at the ready.
Choosing to ignore the squabbling Mated Pair, you pulled up the rolling stool, which you found that you liked. Call it a childish thought, but you liked rolling around in it.
“My cousin will have to look over your arm to see if anything is amiss, James,” you informed him as you grabbed your tweezers. Switching to Russian, just like how Clint and his former student were doing, in order to not garner any suspicion, you heard Bucky begin speaking.
“Your cousin works here too, huh?” Bucky sounded amused. You, being you, just rolled your eyes in a nice old-fashioned way of saying that you weren’t being hurtful. “Yeah. She is. She works as an engineer.” You answered him seeing the corners of his lips beginning to twitch upwards into a smile. “You enjoyin’ your work so far?” he questioned. “It pays me well, so…” you were openly shrugging, causing Bucky to chuckle deeply, despite the pain. You managed to take out a few more pieces. The glass was small, and he twinged a little.
“Stay still, James.” Steve heard you speak in English. He knew Clint and Romanov were still bickering in Russian. It was how they showed their love. He had no idea what they were arguing about, but whatever it was, it probably wasn’t all that important.
But what really gave him the whiplash was how fluent you were in Russian. He knew that Bucky spoke Russian. After staying in Siberia for so many years before his handlers had given him to Alexander Pierce, he had a sinking suspicion that his old pal was probably fluent in another language.
You though?
He was surprised. Adamantly surprised. His Alpha stirred within him, that deep primal part inside of him, growling at the thought of you and Bucky being so close. You were smiling at him, and he was smiling at you, too!
It made that horrible sinking feeling come back. For a moment, he thought that the two of you knew each other. Maybe you two had met before? You seemed so carefree around him.
However, Steve didn’t have time to dwell on these dark thoughts, because then you were talking. To him. “Captain Rogers?” your voice floated in the room. It was like a light at the end of a tunnel. It brought him back. Made him screw his head back on. Made him focused again. “Can you come here for a second please?”
He was walking. He was walking even before he even knew what the hell he was doing. Heavy footsteps made their way towards you as you looked at him. Somehow, you had put on your face mask. The light blue surgical mask was snug, the white cotton perfectly and happily situated behind your ears. Handing him the plate of broken glass colored with red, his hands brushed over yours.
One could call it a weird feeling, the way you reacted when it happened.
Almost immediately, you felt like seizing up. An electrical current swept through you. If possible, your eyes might have even widened like an anime character in shock. Or surprise. Either or worked really well at this point.
“Can you get my sewing kit too? I think I forgot it in my office… oh… here’s the key. My office should be straight down. On your left. Fourth door.” You informed him, your gloved hands grabbing your lanyard around your neck, which had your keys hanging on it. Procuring it off of you, you handed your keys to him.
“Yes ma’am.” Steve’s response had your skin tingling. Your Omega was purring, and you desperately wanted her to shut up before she got both of you in trouble because she was being a thirsty bitch.
Cause really, for reals, you did not need that shit right now.
You watched as Steve left the room, making sure to close the door behind him. It left you alone with Clint and Natasha, who, for some reason, had stopped their disagreement about security guards and guns.
“… You like him, don’t you?” Natasha smirked. You spluttered. “No!” You exclaimed, a little too quick for her taste.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Oh, she totally does.” Clint was nodding in complete and utter agreement as horror overtook your face. “I do not!” came your fiery protest. “I have sworn off dating, I’ll have you know!”
“Yeah? Then why did you go on a date last night with Steve?” Natasha raised an auburn eyebrow, a questioning look on her face.
You said nothing.
Still reeling in shock of how the hell she had known that.
“Come on. When he said he met someone who worked in Medical, I had my suspicions. But when Tony said it was one of the Omega cousins he hired when we were still at the Tower? I knew it was you.”
Still saying nothing, Natasha brought you into a hug. Clint stroked your hair like how a dad would, comforting you.
“Oh malen'koye solnyshko,” her soothing tone had you remembering the day. “You deserve to be happy after what happened with you and your cousin. If your happiness is with Steve, then it’ll happen. Don’t close yourself off like I did. Look what happened when I allowed myself to open up. I married this dumbass.” Natasha gestured to Clint, who had the decency to gasp in mock offense. “I thought you loved me Tasha,” he whined.
“I do dunderhead,” was Natasha’s cool response. This however, just sent the two of them off into another bickering match about god knows what. Grabbing a cotton ball, you soaked it in cool water and a little bit of soap, so you could clean the wound. Gently dabbing it on the skin, you watched as Bucky’s face slowly relaxed.
“Are they always like that?” Bucky muttered, his voice deep and scratchy. “Uh-huh,” you responded, finishing cleaning up the wound.
The door suddenly opened.
You were the first to turn around.
Alpha, your Omega sighed dreamily, in awe of the fine specimen standing at the door. If you didn’t know any better, you probably thought she would have fallen to her knees drooling.
Something like that.
And you weren’t going to disagree with her. Steve Rogers stood at the door, his shoulders broad. His stature with tall. He was beefy, for a lack of a better word. You could see the way his muscles ripped through his white shirt, making you wonder if his shirt had been smaller on purpose. Maybe he was trying to show off? Or maybe that was the grandpa in him speaking? Maybe he just picked out smaller shirts cause he didn’t know how to shop for the right shirts?
That was a possibility.
As Steve strode towards you, sewing kit in hand, when he handed your keys and kit over, your hands accidentally brushed together again.
There it was.
That spark that ran up your spine. You were looking up at him, staring, no, gazing into those baby blues that stared back at you with such intensity. You were holding a breath because his stare was just that compelling. You felt as if you were a moth being drawn to a flame. And that flame in question being Steven Grant Fucking Rogers.
“Thank you,” you managed to stammer out before hastily snatching your things back. Putting your sewing kit next to you on the little table, you grabbed your thread and your needle.
“I’m going to need to stitch this and burn it shut,” you told the other brunet supersoldier. His jaw clenched, and Bucky gave you a short nod. “And,” you continued, “—my cousin will need to come down to see what’s up with your arm after I remove the bullets. Just in case.”
“You’re the doctor,” Bucky tried to joke, making the smallest trace of a smile begin to tug at your lips.
“Okay, stay still…”
After finishing sowing the wound and burning it shut, you had carefully removed all the bullets from Bucky’s metal arm, and once you called your cousin, she came down with all of her stuff.
However, you couldn’t stay long in the room, because of the other Omega’s had knocked on the door, claiming to need your assistance. So, you left Bucky in the care of your Omega cousin. Sadly for Steve, he was needed for something too. Therefore, Clint and Natasha were alone to man the joint. They promised you that they would look after Steve’s best pal.
With that all situated and in order, you and Steve left the room.
As the two of you made your way down the hall, Steve suddenly asked you, “How do you know Buck?”
It had been enough to make you freeze. Right on the spot.
You really had hoped he was as dumb as some people on the Internet thought he was.
But alas, he was not.
You swallowed thickly.
“Winter Soldier stuff.” was your quiet response. It wasn’t like you were lying. You were telling him the truth. Just… not all of it.
“Winter Soldier stuff?” Steve echoed you, just as quiet as you had been.
“Winter Soldier stuff.” You confirmed. Continuing to walk down the hall, you were suddenly stopped again. This time, by Steve grabbing your arm. It sent that weird tingle up your arm again. He found a little spot where no one would look, guiding you through different dark hallways until he found an unoccupied room that no one was using.
“What are you—“ you were cut off by Steve.
Steve, who suddenly had you against the wall and was pressing himself against you.
You!
You could smell him. You could smell all of him. You could even feel something solid pressed against you, all the way up into your inner thighs.
However, you could not dwell on that thought.
Oh no, you could not.
Nope.
Cause then, he said—
“Have dinner with me.”
You blinked.
Like, blinked blinked.
“Again?!”
“You want me to— to—“ You stammered through your words. “Yes,” Steve couldn’t help but snap.
“What?” You were astonished. Astonished! Truly at a loss of words!
“Why?” You questioned him. Mostly in disbelief.
Steve was leaning into you. Suddenly, you could see that those blue eyes were much, much clearer. In a deeper sense. You could see how blue they were, and that was throwing you in a for a loop.
“You’re… you’re…”
Steve wanted to scream at himself.
He hated this.
He hated how you made him feel like he was small again. Life before the serum. Before he had been injected with the serum, he had been small. Skinny. Sickly. A weak excuse of an Alpha by his father’s standards. It hadn’t been enough when his father would come home, drunk. He had tried, he had tried so hard to protect his mother, but he had been too small. Too tiny. However, when he had gotten the serum, suddenly, he could fight back against him. It was easy. It wasn’t as hard anymore. But then, his mother had passed away from tuberculosis, and his father had passed away from alcohol poisoning.
When he had been younger, when he had been smaller, he could never get the dames. It always had been Bucky. Bucky was the model Alpha. He was tall, he was charming. He had this suaveness about him, this ease. Deep down, Steve had wanted that. He had wanted to be noticed like Bucky. He had wanted to know what it felt like, to not be passed on when he went to dance halls.
Getting the serum though, it was suffocating. He felt like people only had wanted him because he was this new person. They didn’t see Steve. They saw Captain America, they saw this beefy, strong person. They didn’t even pause to see the Steve that had always been in there, the small Steve.
You made him feel like he was that Steve again.
Small Steve. Skinny Steve. Weak Steve, who could barely throw a punch. Not Big Steve, who could easily beat up bullies in a matter of seconds.
It infuriated him.
And, he also didn’t know if he should have screamed or not.
As you looked at him, desperately searching for something to say, you could see it.
You had heard Tony Stark remark once or twice, about Steve being America’s “Golden Boy” and how “Spangles couldn’t do anything wrong. He was practically perfection itself.”
Looking at him now, so intensely and so deeply— you knew.
Tony Stark, for the first time in his life, was wrong.
Steve Rogers was not perfect. There was a deeper, darker part of him that lingered.
… and you were staring at it right in the face.
You swallowed thickly, trying to resolve some of that tension because Steve was emitting some strong ass pheromones and it was making your eyes water a little. Your Omega bristled from within you, rapping her paw against her cage, glaring at you.
Alpha is angry. Must comfort Alpha.
You brought him a little closer. You stepped up, right up on your tiptoes, cause Jesus freaking Christ, was he tall. He was massive and tall. Dear Lord. Sweet baby Jesus.
Carefully, you placed your face into the crook of his nose, gently nuzzling your nose against his Scent Gland on his neck. A soft little rumble came from you, in an effort to calm him down.
Steve’s Alpha, who had been thrashing inside of him, suddenly stopped. His Alpha stared. His Alpha let out a shudder, overwhelmed by his Omega. Steve scrambled, desperately gasping for air. You just held him closer as he buried his face into your neck.
When his tongue darted out to lick at your Gland, you weren’t ready. You weren’t prepared for it. So, it came as a shock to you when his tongue licked your gland thickly, running it over the corded muscle.
You whimpered.
Actually whimpered.
It was a mix between a whimper and a gasp, as your body stretched upwards, stepping back onto your tiptoes again. Steve just groaned against you, his breath faltering slightly. Your own breath shuddered as you inhaled the scent of wood and spicy black pepper, feeling your body beginning to tremble under his intense scent.
Your Omega though?
She was liking this.
She was very much in the pro camp of this Alpha. Whatever he was doing, he could keep doing it.
It was totally worth it.
Five Gold Stars. All the way.
You and Steve were both breathing heavily as you tried to desperately piece your mind back together.
“M’ gonna smell like you all day,” Was all you managed to squeak out.
Steve’s voice was rough when he answered you. His Alpha felt a deep sense of pride when he realized that you would be smelling like him all day. His erection became hard against your inner thigh when he realized that you’d smell like him.
Jesus, it was far too early to get fucking blue balls. For fucks sake.
Omega. Smells like our Omega now.
Our Omega now.
“Good.”
Meanwhile, around the same time with your cousin and Bucky…
“What’d you do this time, Sasha?”
Natasha and Clint agreed to give the two of you space and were playing guard outside.
So that left your cousin alone with Bucky.
Bucky’s arm had been removed and put on the counter as he watched the young, sweet-smelling Omega look over his metal arm. She had come down after you called her, telling her how Steve, Natasha, and Clint had come down the halls of Medical, saying that Bucky had needed assistance. Considering that she was an engineer, they thought her to be best suited to the task of overlooking anything wrong with his arm.
So, here she was.
“Got into a fight,” the dark-haired Alpha shrugged. Your cousin gazed up from where she had snagged a mask on her face. “Huh,” Was her surprised reaction. “I thought that would’ve been Captain Rogers. Not you.”
“Things change.” Bucky’s response had her letting out a very unladylike snort. “Really? Cause if I remember correctly, Captain Rogers had been the one to jump out of a plane once. Without a parachute.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched. His eyes might have twitched too.
“The punk did what now?” Having switched to English, she knew that Bucky was starting to become enraged. “He jumped out of a plane. Without a parachute.” She repeated.
Your cousin saw him scowling. “Why that little shit…”
“You know him better than anyone else. Well… other than my cousin. She went on a date with him yesterday. I texted my family. I think they’re gonna get together.”
“And what about us?” Bucky suddenly asked her. Your cousin swallowed, and Bucky wished she would have taken off the damn face mask so he could see her face properly. To understand what she was thinking. What her reaction would be. But, as she averted her eyes down and hastily grabbed the cup full of misshapen bullets, he grabbed her arm with his flesh hand.
When had he gotten out of the bed? Didn’t he know he was injured?
… Oh right. Supersoldier. He probably healed really fast. And from what you had told her, he was probably almost good to go.
Your cousin sank back into him. His front pressed up against her back as she tried hard, really hard to not make a noise as his thumb pressed over her gland on her neck.
“I don’t know what they’re going to do with you after your trial’s over,” your cousin mumbled.
“I don’t either,” the Alpha answered truthfully. This led to your cousin sighing softly.
Bucky could smell her. He could smell all of her. The scent of cinnamon and brown sugar was slowly making its way up towards his nose. He knew as soon as she told him if his metal arm had suffered any injuries to it, or if it had any dents in it, or none at all— that this specific time with her would be over.
It was a true letdown.
“The bullet didn’t damage any of the metal plates of your arm,” she said, swiftly changing the subject.
“That’s nice,” Bucky hummed, rubbing his nose all up against her gland, his scent exploding. She was suddenly surrounded by the pleasant smell of a salty beach. The scent of sandalwood and salty air filled her nose, making her sigh against him. She suddenly squirmed, regaining her focus. Not to mention, the current issue at hand. “You-you're distracting me,” she said with a huff.
Bucky just scoffed. “Me? Distracting you? Never. You wound me, solnyshko. I would never.” To make himself appear even more of a wounded pup, he put his flesh hand on his heart in mock hurt. Your cousin however, was buying none of his shit, and instead, she scowled at him. “Don’t play the victim with me, Sasha. You’re gonna make me smell like you.” she snarked at him.
“And what’s wrong with that?” He shot back. She made a deep noise in the back of her throat. “What’s— what’s—“ she spluttered, in shock.
When she saw his growing smirk, she nearly smacked him on his shoulder. It didn’t matter which one, because her cheeks were flushing in embarrassment.
So, she did what she did best.
She smacked him on the shoulder.
“Ow!” But Bucky wasn’t really all that hurt. He was a supersoldier, after all.
“You’re insufferable.” she snarled at him. “You like it when I’m insufferable,” Bucky was smirking down at her, looking almost how he used to. For a moment, she wondered, Was this how James got all of the women back in the day? By being charming? Had that been it?
“C’mon you two! Hurry it up in there!” Clint shouted, breaking her train of thought. A deep rumble vibrated through Bucky’s chest in annoyance. “I’m going to smack his head in,” was all that Bucky grumbled under his breath, making the Engineer Omega roll her eyes.
“I heard that, Yasha.” Natasha’s voice was heard from behind the door. It made Bucky scowl deeply.
“… they didn’t ruin the metal plates of your arm,” he heard her saying.
It made Bucky blink in confusion.
Suddenly brought back into the present.
“Huh?”
“The bullets, Sasha. The bullets. They didn’t ruin the metal plates on your arm.” she deadpanned.
“Oh.”
That horrible sinking feeling of realization that his time with this Omega was now over sunk into him. Holding her desperately in his arms, Bucky didn’t budge.
“No. Don’t. Stay, please,” he begged.
“James, I can’t—“ Her voice nearly broken by how desperate he looked. He looked so lost. She knew what that felt like. Once upon a time, she felt that way. Lost. Looking for her place in the world.
“Please.”
She felt him bury his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. A soft little growl came from the Alpha Supersoldier. It sounded almost like a snarl, really.
His tongue poked out before he gave a lick at her gland.
And he did it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
He licked, lapped, and sucked on her gland until all he could smell was his scent dripping from her.
Her toes curled upwards as her back arched, leaning back further into him. Something akin to a whine mixed in with a whimper filled the room.
Just then—
The door immediately swung open. Your cousin let out a shriek of surprise, while her Omega shrieked in anger.
She had been this close! This close!
“Oh fuck you Jesus!” Clint shrieked.
Both Bucky and her were surprised, horrified, and then confused.
Oh fuck you Jesus?
As far as Bucky was concerned, he had grown up Catholic, but he could safely say that his faith wasn’t all that important to him, considering the fact that his mind had been put in a blender for the past seventy years.
And you and your cousin’s families were still Shaman. So…
Yeah, it was safe to say that your cousin and Bucky were clearly bamboozled.
“Come on, Yasha, we need to go.” Natasha practically grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling and tugging her former teacher. Lugging him along.
“But—“ Bucky began to protest, but Natasha was having none of it. “No. We need to take you back. Before anyone notices that you’re gone. And they’ll call General Ross if they can’t find you.” Natasha insisted.
With the mention of General Ross lingering in the air, Bucky’s good mood dampened. Natasha continued to usher him out towards the door, pushing and shoving him the entire way.
When they reached the threshold, Bucky turned back wildly, looking at the sweet-smelling Omega.
Their eyes locked.
And then the door closed between them. Separating them once again.
Later that day, with you in the cafeteria…
You had been in the middle of eating when you heard footsteps approaching you.
For one second, you thought it was your cousin. Or Natasha. Or Clint.
But no.
It wasn’t your cousin. Or Natasha. Or Clint.
No.
Nooooo.
“Spare a seat for me?”
It was Steve.
Steve!
You turned around a little, seeing the broad-shoulder Avenger standing right behind you, holding a tray of food in his hand, and a water bottle. Said food on his plate looked like a freaking mountain. It reminded you of all your Hmong dude cousins whenever you had gone to family functions after coming to the US.
You just patted the table. Steve sat across from you, beginning to eat his lunch. The two of you ate your lunch in silence.
After finishing your lunch, you had been quickly called back into Medical. Getting up, you were about to head out until you felt someone place their hand on your shoulder.
The wafting scent of woody black pepper filled your nose.
“… we’re still on for tonight, right?” Steve’s voice brought you out of your haze. “H-Huh? O-Oh… right… yes, yes. It’s still on. Why?” You questioned him, finally turning around so that you could look at him.
When Steve didn’t answer, a horrified look overcame your face. “Steven,” you gasped, using his full name, so you were being serious. “… we’re not going somewhere fancy, are we?”
“What?” Steve exclaimed. He thought you were about to say something worse like you had gotten food poisoning and that was why you couldn’t go tonight.
This gave him somewhat of a relief.
“No. We’re not going anywhere fancy, Omega. We’re just gonna go for a drive.”
That made you raise an eyebrow. “On the motorcycle, right?” Steve nodded in confirmation.
“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then, Captain Rogers.”
You resisted the urge to giggle at his dumbfounded face when he watched you walk out.
Later that night…
You were doing some last final touch-ups at the mirror near your door when your phone chimed.
Your phone was on the little table where your mirror was, and your apartment keys were in the little ceramic bowl you had bought from Target. Or was it IKEA? You couldn’t remember.
Anywho, you had been checking your face out, to see if anything looked wonky before you picked up your phone. The caller ID read Steven Grant Rogers.
You made a quick mental note to change it to just Steve Rogers soon. Pressing the green phone button, you put your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“I’m five minutes away.”
An eyebrow shot up.
“You’re not supposed to call me while you’re driving! What if you got into a motorcycle accident?” You hissed into your phone. “Then you can sow me up like you did with Buck,” Steve’s causal response had you nearly growling at him. “No! I won’t be able to sow you up Steve! You’ll be sent to the ICU! I will not be caught dead in the ICU!”
“… Relax, I’m at your apartment’s parking lot. I was pulling in.” You audibly let out a sigh of relief.
Speaking of the ICU, you would never step foot in there ever again. You had never been there, and you were planning to keep it that way.
You wouldn’t ever be caught dead in there. Hell to the no. you’d rather be caught dead in a strip club or something like that. Anywhere but an ICU.
Maybe you’d go out like one of those tragic anime deaths. Impaled by a sword, maybe? Or in a heroic badass kinda way, like in that one magic anime that you had watched recently? Who knows.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll come out and meet you.”
Swiping on some chapstick, you quickly smacked your lips together before you hung up. Grabbing your purse, you did a quick check to make sure you had all of your necessities in your purse before grabbing your apartment keys out of the bowl.
Sliding your phone into your purse, you locked the front door before you headed into the staircase to get to the parking lot.
Your Omega, oh she was excited. Overjoyed. Truly over the moon. If possible, you imagined her jumping for joy at the thought of spending time with her Alpha. She was bouncing around happily in her cage, gleeful.
The damn bitch.
Steve heard your incoming footsteps as he got off his motorcycle. You were looking at his death trap of a vehicle with a critical look in your eyes as if you were mapping out all of the possibilities that could happen if you didn’t wear a helmet.
It still baffled you that Steve didn’t wear a helmet. He didn’t wear one! It was horrifying to you! You were still shocked!
But then again, he was a supersoldier. And Steve Rogers prided himself on driving and obeying the speed limit. It was things like this that made you remember that he was still somewhat a grandpa.
“I hope you don’t mind that we’re going on a picnic today,” said Steve shyly. “Stargazing?” You were interested. You had grown up in an okay neighborhood, having been stuffed in a dingy three-bedroom apartment after arriving in the States, before your family had moved to a house big enough to house all eleven of you, including your nine other siblings, and your parents. You hadn’t been able to lay on a hill and stargaze as a young adult, but after the whole ordeal, you had watched a lot of coming-of-age movies and had wished to stargaze at least once in your life.
“Yeah. First time?” Steve asked you as he handed you a helmet. Clipping the buckle in your place and climbing in behind him, “Yeah. I never did it when I came to the States. My family and I— we stayed in this shitty apartment that had three bedrooms and the complex was weird. And then after we moved to our house, I never got to do it.”
“I never asked where you guys managed to settle,” Steve remarked. “We settled in Fresno for the first few years. But then my family moved to Michigan. They’re still there, actually. They liked the weather there better. California’s not known to have many seasons,” you remarked dryly.
Steve’s chuckling made a small smile crack onto your face. You suddenly looked softer. Gentler. Like five years had been completely wiped off of your face. You looked less stressed.
Kicking the engine on, you heard his motorcycle roar to life as you clung to him, burying your head into his shoulder.
“Hold on tight.”
The woods.
Steve had brought you to the frigging woods.
Now. You didn’t hate the woods. But, after watching a thriller movie that took place in the woods, you were still a little weary as Steve carried the picnic basket that contained sandwiches, water bottles, and the blanket. You were following him like an obedient little soldier, the leaves crunching under your feet.
You were thankful that your job kept you on your feet all the time because if you hadn’t been as energetic as you were, you probably would have been super tired by the time you and Steve had trekked up to the hilltop.
After setting the blanket down, the two of you munched on your sandwiches as Steve pointed out any constellations he could spot.
“… And there’s Orion’s Belt… oh, and there’s the one with Perseus and Andromeda,” Steve pointed up at the sky. You watched with rapt attention as the stars twinkled above both of you.
“This is nice, you know.” You said softly. “What? Stargazing?” Steve shot you a bewildered look. “No,” you chuckled, “—this. Having a break. It’s nice. This is nice.”
“Yeah?” He had moved a little closer to you. In this position, sitting so close to him that the two of you were practically hip to hip, you could see how blue his eyes were. They were enchanting, if you said so yourself.
“Yeah,” the tone in your voice had shifted to something lower, softer. “Haven’t felt like this for a while. Safe. Feels like… I’ve always been doing something, y’know? Before I came to the US… I was always looking out for my younger siblings and my first stepmom. My dad was at war and all I could do was look after us because I was the eldest. Even when we came to the US… I always felt like I had to do more. Always. I had a duty to do. I couldn’t… get a break.”
As Steve listened to you, he found himself sympathizing with you. Even though he had been an only child, he could relate to being the person that held his family together. Packing his own lunch, helping his father whenever his father had woken up from a hangover with his cures at the ready, putting the bandages and creams on his mother because she had been too weak to do it herself. Hell, even buying and packing a separate set of clothes for himself using his piggy bank money because his dad consistently blew off his mother’s paycheck on booze and his mom had been too afraid of standing up to him because she knew what his temper was like.
And the part about never having a break?
Yeah, he could relate to that too. After getting the serum and being forced between a rock and a hard place with either being stuck in a laboratory to be poked and probed at with needles as if he were just a mere bear or being stuck doing those stupid tours and choosing to do those tours, instead of doing what he really wanted to do; fight for his country— well, it certainly put things into perspective.
Thanks to the serum, he could survive with less sleep. So whenever he could sleep, he allowed his thoughts to run wild.
Oh boy, did he have many thoughts. Sometimes, he thought about what was the point in doing all of this. Why would he do these tours, be forced to do shows, and be a dancing monkey when a war was going on? When people were risking their lives to defend their country, to fight against fascism and he was still there, punching a fake Adolf Hitler in the face? What was the point in doing all of that?
Really, what had been the point? But after rescuing Bucky, only to lose him again when he fell off the train, Steve had once again found himself in that hard place. So when he crashed the plane on purpose, he thought that maybe, just maybe, there would be peace.
That he would be free.
But then he had been frozen in ice for over seventy years and when he had been unfrozen, instead of seeing old friends, all of his friends were either old or dead.
And suddenly, just like when he had lost Bucky, he had been in the same place. Struggling to figure out just where he belonged. It was why he had immersed himself in all of those missions, before the whole Hydra situation. He thought, maybe if he had found himself with a distraction, that he could push those unwanted feelings of craving someplace to belong, to finally feel like his worth meant something— that it wouldn’t bother him.
He had been wrong.
It had fucking bothered him. Hydra was still active after all these years. Peggy had hired Zola. She had allowed Hydra to fester and grow like a virus and had unknowingly allowed it to spread.
Despite popular belief, Steve had never been in love with Peggy. She had been the first female Alpha that he had ever met in his life. Not that she had been the last. Maria Hill was also an Alpha that reminded him of Peggy. But less I’m-going-hire-someone-I-know-who-is-a-Nazi type of way. Sure, at the time, Steve had respected Peggy. But him being in love with Peggy? No. She hadn’t been his type. For the longest time, Steve thought that he had been broken. That he would never find his Omega. His Mate.
Until now.
Until you.
Before meeting the Avengers and you, Steve thought he’d never belong anywhere. That he would never find his own place in this world. That he was truly a man out of time.
Then, he met the Avengers.
Then, he met you.
“… You know… for the longest time, I thought I never would belong anywhere.”
You looked at Steve. He appeared to be deep in thought. “The tours, leading the Commandos, losing Buck, being frozen in ice for seventy years, only to wake up and find everyone I knew and loved were dead? And then finding out that Bucky, the guy who always had my back had been tortured by the hands of Hydra? I’m gonna be honest,” Steve started, “—it felt weird. Suddenly I was thrust into this new world, this new era, and… and it just showed me how much I didn’t belong. I didn’t know what the Internet was. I didn’t know what computers were. I didn’t know what phones were. Hell, I didn’t know what the hell Star Wars or Star Trek was!”
To that, you let out a gasp of pure horror. A deep noise of offense came from you. “Oh, you poor soul!” You cried out. “To not know the gloriousness that is Star Wars or Star Trek? Personally, I’m more of a Star Wars type of gal, but oh my lanta!” You exclaimed, clutching your chest.
Steve just chuckled at the facial expressions on your face. “Don’t worry, I know what they are now. And personally, I’m more of a Star Wars guy myself. I think I’ll introduce Buck to Star Wars and Star Trek when he’s free. I have a strong feeling he’ll like it. He’s a huge Hobbit fan. He read the book in nineteen-thirty-seven when it first came out.”
“Does he know about the sequel?” You inquired with a raised brow.
Steve had an incredulous look on his face. “There’s a sequel?!”
“Yeah! It’s called Lord of the Rings! It’s soooo good!” You nodded eagerly, watching as shock overtook his face.
“I’ll pass it on to him. I’ll buy him the whole entire set of books.” Steve told you seriously.
You let out a giggle.
“I’m sure you will.”
The two of you laid down on the blanket, looking up at the starry sky.
Subconsciously, Steve’s hand reached out for yours. Your hands locked together as his fingers laced into yours.
And before he knew it, he was rolling over on his side so he could face you. So he could look at you.
“I always thought… I always thought that I wouldn’t fit in anywhere. That’d I’d never fit in,” admitted Steve quietly, his eyes withdrawn.
“But then, I met the Avengers. I met you. And… I guess, I think...” He swallowed nervously, “I think… I think now, I’ve found my place.”
He was inching closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him come closer to you, your noses touching. For a moment, all the two of you could hear were the sounds of your heaving breathing on each other. Looking into each other’s eyes, like the two of you were the only ones that mattered.
And then, Steve suddenly asked you, while his lips were ghosting just right over yours, “Is this okay?”
Was this okay?
Did you want him to kiss you?
Did you want to finally know what his lips felt like on yours?
Did you really want to go that far?
Did you?
Did you really?
While you were debating with yourself, your Omega, on the other hand, was completely on board with allowing this Alpha that she certainly knew, for a fact, that she had fallen head over heels in love with to kiss her. Oh yes, this Alpha had her full permission and consent to do so. Oh yes.
So when you found yourself nodding and leaning in too, your Omega felt as if Christmas had arrived early. She bounced around happily in her cage in uttermost delight, squealing like a teenage girl who had just discovered what a crush was for the first time.
When you had arrived in the States after escaping the war in Laos, you had been reading romance books. Something to ease your mind, to allow you a form of escapism, to get away from all of the chaos that was your life. You had read in books, how first kisses were described like fireworks, or some grand, life-changing event.
However, when you kissed Steve— you didn’t feel fireworks.
You didn’t feel emptiness, either.
You felt as if you were finally home. Like this was where you belonged. His lips were soft and warm on yours. Your lips moved together in perfect unison. Almost like the two of you were cut from the same cloth or something. Some weird saying about a frigging tapestry that you had heard from somewhere down the ole grapevine.
Steve’s hand was inching lower and lower until they had reached the waistband of your jeans. Suddenly opening his eyes, he softly asked through the kiss, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” you whispered back to him. “It’s okay. Keep going.”
His hand sank past your jeans and dug into your panties, and a low squishing noise echoed.
Your mouth dropped open, a silent moan falling from your lips when his fingers entered you.
A deep guttural groan rumbled in Steve’s chest.
You were warm.
Oh so warm.
You were like a snugly little piece of heaven. Wet, pumping noise echoed as Steve slid his fingers out, before slamming them right back in, seeing how your eyes rolled into the back of your head with every movement.
How could you explain the pleasure that was rotting your brain at this very moment? How could you put it into words?
Well, you couldn’t. You couldn’t form any words, and the only things that were coming out of your mouth were little desperate noises, and croaked, muffled words of “oh god oh god oh god oh god” were the only things that were coming out of your mouth.
For the first time in your life, you were a certified mess. You really hoped you were eligible for compensation because Steve Motherfucking Rogers was going to be the death of you.
And, to put the cherry on top— the little shit had found your clit!
He had found your clit! Usually, nine times out of ten, you usually had to fake your orgasms! Simply because men just couldn’t find it! How hard was it to find a frigging clit anyway? Seriously!
But! But! Steve had found your clit, and he rubbed on it with his thumb while simultaneously slamming his fingers in and out of you, while kissing you like he was a man possessed.
It was as if your mind had hit a wall.
Like, exe. your brain had stopped working type of shit.
All you could smell and feel was Steve. The scent of wood and black pepper had overcome you. His scent was so thick, so pungent that you were pretty sure that after this, you’d reek of him.
Somewhere deep inside of you, that primal part of you knew that this was what he had been planning all along.
And you really couldn’t blame him. That deep psychological primal instinct inside of you that desperately craved an Alpha definitely wasn’t arguing with the pleasure that was rocking through you right now.
When Steve brushed over your clit one last time, you came all over his fingers with a muffled whimper, your entire body seizing up as your hips desperately grinded against the palm of his hand, riding out your orgasm.
Steve pulled away from you as you gasped for air.
You somehow fell forward into his chest, desperately breathing in his scent. Gulping in deep breaths of air.
His fingers were still snug inside of you, not wanting to pull out of this sweet, warm heaven just yet.
“A-Are you… gonna… pull out?” Your voice came out a little wobbly.
“Why? You want me to pull out?” His voice was husky. You resisted the harsh temptation to blush.
“N-No,” you mumbled back shyly.
“Good. Because I’m not going to.” was his response.
Sometime later, Steve had taken you home.
The two of you had driven by endless scenery of green before you were suddenly surrounded by city life again.
The loud chatter of New Yorkers had followed you throughout the motorcycle ride back home to your apartment complex. You lived a good thirty minutes from the Avengers Compound, so you elected to take the subway train every day. Plus, it let you sneak in a little bit of cardio.
So there was that.
Upon reaching your apartment complex, Steve pulled into the parking lot and found an empty parking space, and parked his bike. You hopped off, unbuckling and taking off the helmet, blowing a piece of stray hair out of your face. Propping the helmet on the handle, you adjusted your purse. Just as Steve was getting off of the bike himself.
“I had a really good time tonight,” you uttered softly as you were walking with Steve to your apartment.
Getting out of the parking lot was a good two minutes, but you had to walk around, considering the parking lot was in the back of the whole frigging building. Not to mention, you usually took the stairs.
Opening the door to the staircase, you and Steve began the walk to get to the sixth floor of your apartment complex.
“I did too.”
Jogging up the stairs, you slowly got to the second flight of stairs.
And then the third.
Steve’s hand grasped yours.
And then both of you had gotten to the fourth.
You gave his hand a firm squeeze in return.
… The fifth flight came.
You jogged up the final flight of the stairs with Steve by your side. Digging your hand into your purse, you found your apartment keys. Fumbling with your keys for a split second, you managed to grasp the right key to unlock your apartment door.
Pushing the key inside, you turned it to the left. All the way. You heard the top lock turn and unlock. Then, you unlocked the bottom.
The sounds of the doorknob lock unlocking graced your ears. Grasping the knob, you pushed the door open.
Steve was immediately met with your scent. He could smell it everywhere. It warmed him from his head, all the way down to his toes.
You gave him a look. If possible, Steve thought you looked a little shy.
“Would you like to come in?” You asked him tensely. Trying to test the waters.
Steve didn’t need to speak his response as he followed you inside. As soon as the door closed behind you and you heard the door lock, you turned around.
He didn’t wait.
He just couldn’t wait anymore. You watched as his hands grasped your face.
“Is this okay?” Steve asked.
You gave him a nod.
Something inside of him snapped.
And for the second time that night, Steve Rogers kissed you again.
Taglist: @bxnnywriting, @greeneyedblondie44, @hawsx3, @sunflowerfive
Fic Taglist: @openup-yourmind
#alpha steve rogers x asian!omega reader#alpha steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x asian!reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fanfiction
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Flufftober - Day 1
1 - Winning a teddy bear for the other
This is for @flufftober2021's event. I'll be joining for what I think could be... every day. I also used @prompts-in-a-barrel prompts. There are 2 different prompts because my brain is empty. Enjoy the teeth-rotting fluff!
Pairing: Loki x GN!reader
Tags: enemies to lovers (of course), mentions of alcohol and drugs (but nobody takes any), verbal violence (as compliments, mostly), swearing.
Word count: 1,8K
“Come oooon…. please, please, please, Mr. Rogers? Just this one?”, insisted Peter, crawling up the walls just to get his attention. Steve sighed.
“I’m really sorry, pal. It’s not that I don’t want to. You wouldn’t get a minute of normal peace and fun in there with me”, he explained carefully, “everyone would recognize me and I wouldn’t be actually joining you in anything”.
“It’s okay, I understand. Oh! What about… what about Mr. Barnes?”.
“No”, cut Bucky without looking up from his phone.
“Why don’t you ask Tony? He always wants to get you things, what about some time with you?”, tried Steve, while Tony walked in with Banner.
“Mr. Stark! Could you please, please, please, go with me to the Central Park Festival? It’s gonna be music and games and popcorn and a bunch of cool stuff! You like parties, right?”.
Tony looked at him up and down. Peter was dressed in a pair of jeans —unusual—, and a t-shirt that said the name of the festival and all the bands that would attend. It was very likely Peter just wanted to meet someone there, probably a date.
“I thought that one wasn’t for minors. It’s full of drugs and alcohol, and people tend to get naked in the heat of the moment. Sounds fun, I’d love to go. But I can’t take you with me”, he said, and Banner nodded.
“He’s right. Sorry, Peter, but that festival isn’t for you. You won’t have that much fun”.
“But… music and games… and popcorn…”, he said, really disappointed. Tony sighed and looked at his calendar from his smart glasses.
“Fine. You can go. But go with an adult, alright? I don’t want you getting in trouble”, he accepted, and Peter’s eyes shone with expectation. “You’ll have to find someone else, though. We’re working. Sorry, kid”.
Peter ran up to Thor’s room, sure that he’d accept a good party. There would be beer and loud music, and a bunch of very competitive strength games he’d love to join and win, and get the praise. He knocked the door with a special rhythm he always did, so people knew it was him. But it wasn’t Thor who answered.
“Go on, man of spiders”, called the velvet voice of Loki. Peter’s heart skipped a few beats. He had fought many assassins and put his life in danger countless times, yet the God of Mischief always unsettled him the most; very likely, because Loki had too much of a soft spot for him, and he felt like he had to do something to actually earn it. He really admired him. “You still there?”.
“Y… yes, Mr. Loki! I’m here”, he said, opening the door and finding Loki pinned down to the floor, face to the ground and you on top of him, holding him by the wrists and your legs immobilizing his. “Oh! I’m sorry, am I…?”, he stuttered, and looked away. He soon realized it wasn’t what he thought it was. “Wait. What’s going on?”.
“I’m grounding Loki until he gives me back my book”, you said, pushing his wrists even more closely together. Loki laughed sarcastically, like he was above you.
“Please, darling. You don’t really think you’re actually grounding me, don’t you?”.
“How come you can’t even move, daarrrling?”, you mocked his accent, ignoring the amount of blush it brought to your cheeks.
“I’m letting you win. It’s quite amusing, to be sincere, to see you try so hard to get your tales back”.
“They’re not tales, it’s the most interesting book I’ve read in the last decade and you just took it away in the best part!”.
Peter cleared his throat. You gave up and let Loki go, and he sat up on the floor, fixing his hair.
“I’m really looking forward to going to a very nice festival tonight, but I can’t go without an adult. It’s really not that terrible, minors can go, but accompanied, and nobody can come with me in here”, he explained. Loki was about to refuse in a heartbeat, but you interrupted him.
“Can’t your aunt go with you?”.
“She can’t know I’m going… she’ll freak out”.
“Oh, that freaky of a party? I didn’t think of you as that type of guy”.
“I’m not! I’m going for the music and the games. And the popcorn. Oh, they have the best popcorn in the world!”.
“Sure, I’ll go with you. But. On one condition”, you said, and Peter nodded eagerly.
“Whatever it takes!”.
“Loki has to come with”.
“What? No way. Under no circumstances I’m lowering myself to the…”, and Loki kept going on about how he wouldn’t join a stupid midgardian party when he could be doing so many other things instead.
Anyway, fast forward to that same night, Peter was jumping around the entrance of the festival and you were walking slowly behind by a very grumpy God of Mischief attached to your arm.
You wish with your heart you could say you didn’t want him to go there, or that you only wanted him to join to make him pay for stealing your book in the best part, but part of you knew it was because you wanted him to spend time with you.
You’ve had a crush on him for at least a year now. One of those crushes that make you go red everytime he lowers his tone of voice, or at every sarcastic pet name, or that makes you want to scream every time he looks at you up and down. It was just a crush, yet it was so hard to ignore.
But Loki’s never paid any mind to you. He was witty and you were witty back, trying to hide how much it hurted you that he didn't give a fuck about you. Right now, you were overwhelmed with a painful silence you couldn’t deny made you want to rip your eyes off. This was a terrible idea. You should’ve come alone with Peter. Loki and you would never get along, no matter how many parties you took him to.
“So… do you like… magic?���, you broke the silence.
“I’m a sorcerer. Take a wild fucking guess”.
“Rude. I’m just trying to make conversation”.
“Well, don’t. This isn’t fun”.
“Just… do it for Peter, would you? He really likes you and he wants you to have a good time. So the least we could do is pretend like this was a great idea and get fucking along, wouldn’t you say the same? Can’t you do that for our friend?”.
“Our friend?”, he inquired, raising an eyebrow. You frowned.
“Not the point whether you want to call him that way or not. Now, grab my fucking hand and let’s do something fun or I swear you’re not the only one that’s gonna get a stabbing-reputation around here”.
“Damn. I’m starting to even like you”, he joked. “Fine. Let’s have fun. I’m starving. Have dinner with me?”, he asked, and you raised an eyebrow.
“Like, as a date? Or as rival assassins exchanging death threats thinly veiled in witty banter?”.
“We’ll see how the night goes”.
“It’s a deal then. You’re paying”.
“No, darling. Stark is paying”, he smirked. “He’s the one that’s putting us through this, is he not?”, he said, appearing one of Tony’s credit cards in between his fingers. You chuckled in amusement.
“I might even start liking you, too”.
The night had gone very well. Peter was completely out of your sight but you were sure he wasn’t getting in any more trouble than Loki could if left unsupervised, so you had to prioritize. He had chosen the most expensive restaurant he could find near the park, and asked for the most expensive food, too, just so Tony knows you two were there with his card —or at least, that’s what he said.
After a meal with less talk than you would’ve liked to, you saw Loki visibly relax. He had been on alert mode for the past three weeks, very tense over missions and trouble with his parents, and he smiled lightly, thanking you for the evening without words.
Coming back to the park, you cross with Peter and find out he’s been roaming around with MJ, the girl he was always talking about, and she definitely seemed like the kind of person that would like this party, so both Loki and you clicked at the same time with an “aah, makes sense”. While you were talking with Peter and his new girlfriend, somehow Loki managed to sneak out. You didn’t pay much mind to it, ignoring the huge disappointment of thinking you’ve actually made progress towards being in his limited circle of “tolerable people”, and went back to the conversation.
Although, about ten minutes later, Loki came back to your side with a huge teddy bear. It was so, so big, it was human sized. You laughed, relieved he’d actually gone to play some silly game and make use of his godly strength, instead of leaving you without notice.
“It’s so that you feel bad because a teddy bear is taller than you”, he handed it to you with a grin. You accepted it and hugged it, not even able to touch your fingers around it.
“Thanks, it’s really pretty. I’ll cuddle it in my sleep”, you joked.
“Why don’t you cuddle me instead?”, he mocked.
“I’d do it if you let me”.
“Ugh”.
“Ugh back”.
Truth be told, as much as you two wanted to sound cool and distant with each other, the redness in both faces were undeniable. You played with the fur for a while, while Loki looked at you quizzically, trying to figure out how to let it out. His silvertongue did nothing for him at the moment.
“What I’m trying to say is… maybe we could try to get along better”, he started, and you looked him in the eyes. “I like you, even though I might not show it very often”
“Yeah, no. You don’t show it at all”.
“I’m trying here, alright? I’d just like to say you’re… somewhat… alluring?”.
“Are you… are you trying to flirt with me?”.
“Is it not good?”.
“It’s painful to even hear”.
“Is it working?”.
“Tons”.
"Ah. What did the trick?".
"The giant teddy bear might have helped. Cheesy asshole".
“Ah. Rude, I’m not cheesy, I’m just trying to get laid with you”, he said smirking, with a glitter in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Have they always been so green? So bright?
“You sure are”.
“I sure am”, he said, and this time he was sure he lied.
You stopped walking and he surrounded your waist with his arms, his big hands resting on your back. You tucked a strand of his hair behind an ear and smiled at him. He smiled back.
“Well, whether you’re thinking of marriage or a one night stand, I’m in either way”, you said, and it didn’t matter if he took it as a joke or not, because you couldn’t take your lips off each other for the rest of the night.
(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson )
#loki#loki x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki oneshot#loki x y/n#loki fluff#flufftober2021#writing event#writing challenge#loki odinson#loki laufeyson#loki and peter parker#loki fanfic#loki fic#loki x gender neutral reader#mcu loki#loki headcanon#loki incorrect quotes#loki tv#loki fanart#loki show#loki 2021#loki series#loki ragnarok#loki imagine#loki disney+
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25 Days of CHRIS-mas
A Stark Spangled Forever One Shot
Day 15: Run Run, Rogers
Summary: It’s Rori’s annual School Christmas performance…
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Bad Language, smut (NSFW, 18+)
W/C: 3k
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, any likeness to any persons or events in real life are purely co-incidental. I do not own any characters contained herein bar Katie Stark and/or any original characters. I do not give consent for my work to be copied and posted/translated onto any other sites. If you see this fiction anywhere other than Tumblr, it has been taken without permission. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer and ALL warnings posted here.
25 Days Of Chris-mas Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist
Day 14: Mike Weiss (Puncture)
Steve opened one eye, his sharp ears honing in on the noise which had awoken him.
“Shhhhh!” Jamie’s hushed voice became clearer as he walked across the landing, “Stark, shut up.” The sound of his eldest son’s low commands to his dog faded as his feet padded down the stairs and a little while later, Steve heard the back door open.
He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was just gone 6:00 in the morning, a good 45 minutes before alarms would be going off. He turned over, his arm stretching for Katie, curling over her waist. He snuggled into her a little, eyes closed as he kissed the side of her neck.
The back door shut, then came the jangle of Stark’s collar as the dog bounded back up the stairs, followed by Jamie’s annoyed whisper.
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
With that, the door to his room shut and Steve couldn’t help the soft chuckle that rolled from his chest.
"It's too early," Katie grumbled into her pillow, the weight of Steve's arm comforting.
“Then go back to sleep.” His arm tightened and pulled her a little further back into him.
"Mmm, nope." Katie's back stretched like a cat, moving through her entire body. Steve hummed as her backside pressed into his morning wood. She snorted, “I mean I’m going to get up and get breakfast started early. Today’s going to be carnage, and I didn’t make any lunches last night as someone distracted me in the kitchen.”
"You weren't complaining, Doll."
“I didn’t say I was, but what is it you keep telling the kids? Actions have consequences, Stevie. And now I gotta make three packed lunches, four if you want one, and I need to sort the cupcakes for Rori’s school play after party.”
"I will help with the lunches," he chuckled, playfully dipping his head to capture Katie's cheek in a kiss. But she turned her head at the right second, and Steve caught her lips instead.
“Oh, I know you will,” she chuckled and Steve snorted.
"Team work makes the dream work, sweetheart." He kissed her again, dipping his tongue over her lips and Katie responded with a hum.
“You wanna get frisky on a school morning, Soldier?”
"Yep," he whispered lowly. "We have..." his eyes flicked to the alarm clock, "thirty seven minutes."
“If you can do it in twenty, I’ll make waffles seeing as it’s everyone’s last day of term.”
A sly smirk spread over Steve's face and he closed that minimal gap between them, "I like waffles," he spoke against her lips.
“I like you.” She whispered back, her hands sliding up his back and into his hair.
"I love you," he bumped his nose to hers. His lips spread over her cheek and jaw, nipping at that joint near her ear that caused Katie to purr.
“Love you too,” she closed her eyes as Steve gently rolled so he was led over his wife, caging her in with his arms.
He softly attacked her neck, Katie preening and stretching out to give him more canvas to paint with his lips. He moved to her chest, nipping at her collarbone and taking between his teeth the thin strap to her cami, pulling it over her shoulder while his hands braced himself over her.
Her fingers gently tightened in his hair, tugging softly on the longer dark blonde strands atop his head as she arched into him. She reacted the way she always did to his touch, eagerly and happily. And Steve knew his way around her body better than any map he’d ever used.
A right hand palmed her breast and his thumb moved over her pebbled nipple, whilst his lips continued their masterpiece. Always responsive to his touch, Katie let out a gentle whimper, her face turning to the side in an attempt to muffle her noises of pleasure as his kisses and touches became more urgent.
His hand moved to her hip and then curled over her sleep shorts waistband before tugging at the material. Katie tilted her hips just so and Steve peeled the clothing over her hips and ass, to her knees where she could kick them away herself.
“Be so much easier if we could just sleep naked,” his lips kissed their way up her neck and she gave a sigh.
“Yeah, well, until your little diva princess masters the art of knocking, that’s a no go.”
As he opened his mouth to quip back, it further dawned on him, that not only did his little diva princess never knock, she had recently acquired a tendency to crawl into their bed a good ten minutes before the alarm. With another glance at the clock, he snorted.
"We're gonna need to speed this up."
Katie’s hands slid down his back, nails scratching over his flexing muscles and he groaned as her fingers slipped into the back of his sleep pants, squeezing his ass.
Her hands then moved round his thighs and she grasped his length, palm warm and strong whilst the other tugged down the plaid material, pulling his cock free. In a move that always drove him wild, she tilted her pelvis and guided him towards her with her hand gripping the base of his dick as she rubbed the head between her folds.
Steve gave a thrust, slipping into her, a low grunt vibrating in his throat. His hips moved back slowly before he pushed forward again, bottoming out. Katie gasped as he did so, that all too familiar feeling of her husband so deep and full inside her always felt like the first time.
His hands planted either side of her head, hers curled around his biceps. His thrusts became quicker, her body gently moving with each roll of his hips.
Her quiet moans spurred him on, her eyes fluttering as the passion consumed her. Steve smirked as he focused on her face, the look of love in his eyes. And then he bent down his neck, to the the shell of her ear.
"Nollaig Shona," he huskily whispered.
“Oh, fucking hell.” Katie groaned as the Irish words for Merry Christmas slipped from his mouth in a thick, Celtic brogue. His thrusts became faster, his lips locking to hers as her legs wrapped round his waist, heels digging into the flesh at the top of his ass.
She pulsed around him and Steve knew how to grab her good. More Gaelic spilled from his lips and Katie was gone when he whispered, "Mo ghrá thu,” a declaration of I love you as his mouth nipped at her neck.
“Shit, Stevie…” she gasped, her eyes flying open, mouth doing the same as her back arched and she came with a low whine, her entire body shuddering. Steve's own hips began to falter as he chased his own, a deep grind and thrust happening as he came himself.
The pair of them lay still, Steve’s face buried into the crook of Katie’s neck as she gave a soft hum, her hands smoothing up his back.
“You know, I totally get the whisper of I love you but Merry Christmas? Really?”
"Meh," he snorted into the juncture of her neck before pulling back, "got you though." He flicked his brows.
Katie gave a loud snort as the patter of feet were heard down the hall. She glanced at the door while Steve rolled off of her, his own eyes catching the clock. "Right on time," he chortled.
“We need to re-install the Sunday mornings only rule.” Katie grumbled as she hastily jumped out of bed and shot into the en-suite whilst Steve pulled up his sleep pants just as the door to their room was pushed open.
"Morning, Daddy," Rori, in all her morning glory, tiredly smiled as she set foot in the room. Her hair was a bed head mess and she clutched her blanket close.
Steve smiled at his 8 year old daughter as she clambered up onto the bed. “Morning, Princess. You sleep well?”
In the corner of his eye he watched Erica as the black and white cat sauntered into the room like she owned the place, hopping up onto the chair in the corner where she promptly started licking her paws.
"Yeah." Rori snuggled in. "Don't be late tonight, okay? I've worked really hard. It’s my first solo.”
“Why would you think I’d be late?” He chuckled as she wrapped her arms round his neck. “I’ve never missed one of your school concerts or plays yet.”
"Just saying," she said, with a look not unlike one her mother gave.
“Okay, noted.”
“Uncle Bucky said he can’t come tonight because he is busy washing his hair.”
At that Katie emerged from the en-suite with a howl, "he'll be there or he'll have to answer to me."
“And Jamie said he would rather scrape his eyes out with a spoon.” Rori sat up, her arms folding.
“Yes, but when I gave him a spoon and told him to do it, he soon changed his mind.” Katie arched her brow. Steve snorted and watched his wife as she moved towards the dresser, her bath robe covering her body as she set about finding her clothes for the day. “You just concentrate on you, okay? Everyone will be there, I promise.”
"Okay."
“Now, how does waffles grab you for breakfast?”
"Yes!" Rori hurriedly shuffled off the bed and ran out, yelling through the house that waffles were for breakfast. Agreeable yells sounded back from both Jamie and Harry, shortly followed by a loud shriek alerting them to the fact Flossie was also awake.
Steve chuckled at the chaos that was his life and smiled as he watched Katie dress once she'd closed the door behind Rori. He led back against the headboard, his hands behind his head and just drank her in. His love for her was tremendous, a never changing constant he adored.
“Steve!”
“What?” His eyes hastily flew to Katie’s face.
“I knew you weren’t listening!” She scoffed, pulling her sweater over her head. “And you wonder where Jamie gets it from.”
"I can't help that you distract me!"
“Yeah, well quit being a pervert for a second and listen, will ya?” She chuckled.
"Sorry," he cleared his throat and sat up, giving Katie his full attention.
She shook her head with a snort. “I said, can you make sure Bucky does show up? Sam has an excuse, he’s outta town, but he does not. You know what she’s like.”
"Honey, the idiot hasn't missed one yet, and as much as he likes to tease Rori about it, I doubt he’s gonna start now, he loves her. But I will stay on his ass all day." He kicked his feet from the blankets and swung them over the edge of the bed, stretching and elongating his arms as he rolled his neck. He could feel Katie's eyes on him. "Now who's the perv?"
With a pop of her shoulder, she smirked before she turned and walked to the door.
“Oh, Stevie?” She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder.
He stopped in the doorway to the en-suite and looked back at her, “yeah, Doll?”
“Nice ass.” She winked.
Steve bellowed a laugh, “it’s all yours, baby,” he quipped as he backed into the bathroom and shut the door.
*****
Steve groaned as his car nudged slowly forward on the road for a meter, before the traffic once more ground to a halt.
“This is your fault,” he glared at Bucky who was lounging in the passenger seat.
"Me?" Bucky glared, "how the hell is this my fault?"
“You made me pick you up!”
"I don’t have a car.”
"You could have rode your bike, ya dick," Steve exasperated. "And I wouldn't have had to have go up town to get your ass."
"Listen, Punk...."
“Just don’t.” Steve snapped, his eyes moving to the clock on his dashboard. He gave a groan. Rori’s play was due to start in fifteen minutes and they were still a good three miles out. Of course, it would be just his luck that for whatever reason, the traffic through Brooklyn chose this evening to be at an utter stand still.
“We’re gonna miss it.” Steve closed his eyes and let his head fall forward, banging it slightly against the steering wheel. “I promised her we would be there and-“
“We got time yet.” Bucky looked at him, his voice soft as he knew just how much Steve hated disappointing his family.
“We’ve moved like two blocks in the last half hour!” Steve glared it him, “damned it, I could have walked there by- oh my God, that’s it.
And Bucky knew exactly where his forever best friend was going with his idea. He furiously shook his head "no."
"We can make it if we run."
“I am not running, it’s pouring down! That’s the reason I didn’t bring my bike!”
"At least it's not snowing." Steve looked over his shoulder, swerving to cut off a yellow cab and pulled right into an open space by the curb.
“You cannot be serious.”
"Run or face the wrath of Katie and Rori."
Bucky blinked, and in a flash his seatbelt was off and his door was opened. Steve smirked as he followed, sticking his wallet and phone in his pocket before he locked the car and the two of them set off at a sprint.
“You know, I thought the days of me running after your ass through the streets of Brooklyn were long gone, Stevie.” Bucky grumbled as they rounded the corner at the top of the road.
“The difference is now you can’t keep up!” Steve tossed over his shoulder, his long legs picking up the pace. Bucky gave a growl and surged after him.
Weaving through the groups of people, they themselves trying to avoid the rain, the two former war heroes dashed down the remaining blocks to get to the Rogers kids' school. Eventually, some twelve minutes later, they reached the t-junction and Steve gave a sigh of relief as he looked at the decorative lights which were strung atop of the school railings surrounding the yard.
The two of them sprinted across the road, Bucky giving a yell as a screech of tyres was heard and Steve dodged around a car as it skidded to a halt.
“Sorry!” He yelled, his legs scrambling as he hurried over to the gateway and up the steps to the main entrance.
Soaked but there, the two super soldiers heaved air into their lungs, pausing for a second in the warm and dry building.
“This way,” Steve picked up a slower jog down the corridor and grabbed the heavy door to the main hall, yanking it open.
The orchestra had just started to play its warm up, and his sharp eyes picked out the back of Katie’s head as she sat three rows from the front, Harry to her left, then Jamie on his brothers other side, Flossie having stayed at home with Emmy and Peter. He slapped Bucky’s chest with the back of his hand, and the two of them made their way silently down to their seats
As if he had casually just gotten up for a second, a soaked Steve Rogers slipped into his seat next to his wife.
"Cutting it a little close and wet there, huh, Soldier?" She turned to him, the dim stage lights reflecting in her eyes which sported an amused look.
“It’s Bucky’s fault.”
Katie peered over her husband and looked at his best pal, a unique glint of trouble in her eyes. Bucky smiled sheepishly before punching Steve with his fist. "Punk!"
From Katie’s other side, Harry leaned round to look at his dad and uncle, raising his finger to his lips. “Shhhh!”
Steve chuckled lightly and held up his hands as if saying 'okay'.
The curtains on the stage opened and the kids all filed on, Rori taking her place in the centre of the front row, next to the other lead.
Katie slipped her hand into Steve’s and he gave it a squeeze. “I’m nervous for her,” she whispered as the group began to sing, “this is a huge thing, her first solo.”
“She’s got her momma's talent and flair for drama,” Steve whispered back, “she’s gonna crush it.”
Katie nodded as she smiled proudly, her eyes landing back on their daughter as the group rattled through an extremely pleasant and melodic version of ‘Santa Clause Is Coming To Town’. "At least it's not Star Spangled Man with a Plan."
Steve bit back the snort as the first song finished and the room erupted into applause.
They watched the play, a tale about a lonely elf, which was pleasantly humorous and cute. Rori had been cast as the Christmas Wish Fairy and played her part well, twirling around the stage like she owned it.
When the time for her solo song came, Steve felt Katie tense, but for no reason. As predicted their little Diva stood tall and belted out her song. When she finished, Jamie and Steve shot out of their seats, cheering as did Harry and to Steve’s amusement, Bucky too.
Rori bowed and then her eyes flicked to Bucky, then her dad who gave her a huge thumbs up. She beamed and then twirled off the stage.
“See,” he leaned over to Katie as he sat back down, “she’s more Stark than she is Rogers.”
Katie smiled and wiped the proud tears from her eyes as Steve kissed her temple. “You know she told Jamie he had to carry her bag into the back stage area before because she, and I quote, is the star of the show and therefore too important to carry her own stuff.”
At that Steve spluttered out a laugh. “And did he?”
“Course he did, for all his bitchin’ he’s as much of a sucker for her antics as you are.”
Steve smirked as he turned his attention back to the stage, his heart swelling in his chest with a pride and love that warmed him from the inside out.
🎄🎄🎄🎄
Day 16: Colin Shea (What’s Your Number?)
#wiypt25daysofchrismas#stark spangled forever#steve rogers#steve rogers x ofc#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x original female character#chris evans
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The Price You Pay Chapter 4: Breach
Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat
Chapter Warnings: Angst; Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse; Betrayal; Lies; F!Reader’s Age Kind of Finalized; Specific Reference to Age; Blackmail; Crying; Slight Panic Attack; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Chapter Summary: Even the truth can’t set you free.
Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3
Notes: And we’re back to pain. My outline got derailed for this chapter so bear with me, sometimes revelations need to be hammered in. No smut here for now but I also needed to get this arc finished so I can start on the next.
Also I know I keep jumping forward — I swear I will write about their relationship growing.
Thank you all for reading and commenting! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, even if you’re yelling at me.
Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.
All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.
The air is…
Shifted.
Shifted enough that the whole office notices, avoids yours, avoids the glare Steve Rogers fires at them the moment they approach the door, avoids your eye. Shifted enough that you miss the before, the pressure of his presence demanding your attention, the smugness in his endless eyes you denied looking at.
Shifted.
Counsel.
What?
We need to talk.
Is that not what you’ve been avoiding doing all morning, Captain?
You swear you can hear his molar crack in the dead silence, but your eyes never flit upwards from the contract you’re poring through, red pen in hand.
Focus.
It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it, the presence of him, the pressure of him. It’s a job, and he calls on you to do your duty and you do but no one has ever asked you to be kind and no one has ever asked you to smile as you bear it so you don’t.
It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it.
You. Are a part of it.
Counsel.
It’s a bark, an order, an annoyance and you shouldn’t let his stubborn fury be the thing that derails you. This is your domain. Your palace of glass and steel, remember? New York buzzes behind you and you surge forward on the tightrope of his affections, teetering dangerously close to his temper and always, always daring him to pull you down.
Try it again.
Fine, with a sigh and a setting down of your papers, You’re closer to the door.
And in your defense, he is, seated on your couch as stiff as a board, scrolling through his phone on occasion and — previously, at least — deftly ignoring your inquiries about the status of his office and why he needs to spend his morning in yours.
He fixes you with a look you do not name and proceeds to stand anyways. The door clicks shut and stays that way — both of you have learned.
Do you still talk to him?
Excuse me?
The Senator. Are. You. Still. In. Contact.
He spreads out every word like an accusation and every word turns you a little colder. You’ve been avoiding this. Avoiding him, distracted by work, the both of you but now you are back in each other’s orbits and this…
This cannot be avoided.
I haven’t spoken to him beyond to tell him I returned home safe that night.
Not. For lack of wanting.
If he’s hurt you, just say the words.
There’s nothing you can say.
It’s been a week. Almost two.
He’s been kind, stayed away, kept his distance but that… that will not last. Only as long as whatever conference has his office busy and then you know what comes next and then you know what comes after.
The bruising may have faded but the memories remain, after all.
They always do.
Steve Rogers is not Andy Barber, is not warm-eyed concern or a soft-voiced invitation, is not trying to save you from the horrors you cannot name, is not to be trusted but Andy Barber is also not Steve Rogers, is not exactly the man you expect, is not the answer to your dilemma, is not the devil you know and you…
Are still testing your wings.
Get up.
Get up and walk away from the prison of your desk, see how far you can get before you shackle yourself to your own ambition. Get. Up.
Blue eyes watch you like he’s calculating the next angle of his attack and technically you know that’s exactly the case but let’s pretend a moment he doesn’t have his claws out and you aren’t trapped in a cage for him to batter.
Delude yourself into the power you think you have, and keep him there, across the room where he cannot show you how effortlessly he strips you of it and how deeply you enjoy it.
Don’t.
You may be in bed with the mob but you are not asleep to his crimes and this is just an interim, a plan, a moment.
You stood me up, Counsel. After we made our deal.
It was a week ago and you ever-so-kindly taught me my lesson — don’t wince as you speak, don’t let him know you remember, don’t let him think you actually learned from his hand, hard against your body.
He hasn’t since, after all.
He says your name.
He says your name and your blood runs cold and you freeze by the coffee machine you keep in your office and you turn. Senator Barber is a friend.
A dangerous friend. I won’t even ask if you know his stance on —
On the Syndicate? Oh I know. I know who he shakes hands with.
Then you know why I’m asking.
Are you loyal?
Are you?
Is it loyalty that keeps you here?
Don’t let your hands shake when you look at him. Don’t let him see the slide of your eyes, the glance outside, the wondering how long before your window would be a portal and that tightrope would snap.
You are not a fool.
This. Is not loyalty.
I keep to my ethical duties, Captain.
You’re sleeping with your boss.
Oh that one makes you laugh, sharp and cruel and you do look at him then, fix your eyes onto him and raise an eyebrow and watch. All that power, all that smugness, wrapped up in one body and how does he contain it, do you know?
I believe the actual term is serving at your pleasure.
It’s back to the game, the dance, the ruse, the steps you take around each other, the blades he digs into your chest the reminders he gives you you are a whore you are a whore you are a whore and you lift your chin up, dare him to look at the bruises his lips leave on your skin and ask him in the silence and what will you do about it.
You could hate him. You do, technically. You hate that you could love him in the early hours of the morning, when his eyes seek you out and soften at the reminder you’re still here. You hate that his invasive presence in your office is a shield as much as it is a virus, a comfort in the silence and you hate most of all that the way he looks at you with that open desire women might normally have just dreamed was possible makes you want to return it.
You hate that he is dangerous. That he has bound you to him like this, chained you to the idea of his warmth and that there is a sick sort of safety in the binding.
You hate that he looks at you now with something like hope, with something like obsession, with something like vulnerability and you hate that it strips you of that cold armor as effortlessly as his hands strip you of your resistance.
And he could hate you too, in the whispers he leaves on your shoulders when he thinks you’re asleep. He could hate that you are soft, that you are sweet on his tongue that you…
Are his.
Could hate that he has thought of nothing else but the very theory of your betrayal and you know none of these things but his eyes are not so inscrutable as he thinks and so—
He twists the knife.
I talked to your Judge, by the way.
You did what?
You heard me. Interesting conversation.
Excuse me?
You really sold yourself to me for a lover’s spat, Counsel? I thought you were better than that — woman of the law and all.
A lover’s spat? That’s what he told you?
Just what would you call it, if not that?
He’s daring you, back to somewhere between smug and angry, as if disappointed you made him waste his time and all you can do is feel your heart sinking, feel yourself back in that place again, the decade-long sting of control over your body, the painful reminder of the girl you once were.
Where is he?
Did you think I’d clean up your dirty laundry for you? I’m not a breakup counselor, and you nee—
You left him alive!? The panic in your voice is so palpable it stops him in his tracks all over again, suspicious and surprised and you step back to reach for something — steady yourself steady yourself steady yourself you are not safe you are not safe you are not safe.
I’m not killing your ex-boyfriend without a good reas—
I was nineteen!
The world tilts, shifts, your knees are buckling, that’s tears in your eyes and you.
Are that girl again.
Too small, too scared, too naive to know better, too easy to mold and break and manipulate and you promised you’d never be her again, you promised you’d get her justice and you promised it wouldn’t be like this over and over again, promised he wouldn’t sink his fangs into you a third time.
What? He sounds smaller. Or is it faraway? You are too busy trying to stand, trying to still the shaking of your hands, the cold chill in your veins, too busy feeling your knees surrendering, too busy sliding to the floor and staring blankly into your memory.
Counsel. What. Did. You. Say. He repeats himself, and then he’s crouching before you, holding your chin in his hand and when did you start having tears on your cheeks for him to wipe away?
I was nineteen, you repeat, blank and broken, not seeing his brow furrow, not seeing the regret flash over his expression, I didn’t want it. I never wanted it.
What are you saying, sweetness? How dare he sound so soft? How dare he sound like he actually cares, when he’s the reason you’re here, on this floor, barely resisting your breakdown yet again?
You know better.
I was nineteen, a third time, I needed a job, something to give me experience, and he — he used me. That was my experience.
He’s starting to understand, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when you’re staring too far into the past, into a sneering face and cruel hands.
(I can ruin you or I can help you, Intern, so you make your choice. You need me.)
It never stops. Not after the first time — but you know that.
But you know that. That’s your knife, the one you twist into his chest and the realization sinks in heavy as an anchor, the thing he’s done.
The thing he’s done to you.
So why wait until now?
I would have waited forever.
You hid the letter. Hid it well enough even he wouldn’t have found it rifling through your things. Hid the threat in those typewritten words and the casual signature swept across the stationary, unaffected.
Men like him never face consequences. Only you, only the women they make use of, the ones they turn into commodities for their enjoyment. Who would care if you’d made it public, if you showed the world the kind of man he was — he was appointed for life, he was friends with the Governor, he was powerful and you were never going to be strong enough.
(You wouldn’t want anyone in the District Attorney’s office knowing just the sorts of things you’re willing to do to get your way. I can still help you be an exceptional lawyer, Intern.)
What are you? Ambition and drive and skill but what does it all mean when it can be reduced to plaything and pet project and whore.
I helped him get appointed. He helped me get into law school. Introduced me to… To Andy Barber, who calls you Sunshine and watches out for you and comes to New York despite having no power in the state just to see you again because he worries, because he cares.
You pay.
And sometimes that payment bounces back.
You pay and you pay and you pay and you struggle but what is the culmination of your strife is it the sight of you finally broken on the floor, is it the moment he’s been waiting for, dragged off your pedestal why couldn’t he have left well enough alone didn’t he know the horse was for your protection and not his pride?
No.
They never do.
They never do, do they, always so wrapped up in themselves and even now he kneels in front of you and wipes your tears but he has no words to say to atone for what he’s done and you know he can never.
I need you to leave.
The words come out without your control.
You know what you are. You are fury made flesh and you will not be manipulated again, not by the pressure of his hands on your face, not by the way he almost hugs you, he lied he lied he lied he lied.
Sweetness…
No. You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.
You could have tolerated it. You could have accepted it you could have let yourself become the prize he took, owned his defeat by defeating you, you might even have enjoyed it but no.
No.
I held up my end of the bargain.
#steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#andy barber x reader#mob!au#political!au#dark!fic#steve rogers smut#andy barber smut#dark!steve rogers#angst#series#mob!steve rogers x reader#i really am gonna die here
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I can’t change my settings on my phone on tumblr and I don’t have my laptop ! Can you link your new post
Hi !! I don’t know if you can still see it if you didn’t change your settings but here’s the link anyway !! You’ll probably be able to view it on browser
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Gilded: Chapter 1: To Bride or Not to Bride
Mob! Steve x Reader
Summary: Your life is a mess and you need a little help from time to time. But, when somebody proposes a plan to rid you of all your problems all the way to the far future, you’re suddenly not so sure it is worth it. Especially since the plan is proposed to you by the most notorious gangster America has seen since Al Capone: Steve fucking Rogers.
Warnings: mafia AU, swearing (like, a lot this time), angst, struggles with money, loan-shark, sleazy men, harassing
Word Count: 7969
A/N: It’s finally here! It only took me around 6 months to bring it, and I apologise for the delay, but I hope I will make up for it with introductory this chapter :) Share your thoughts, let me know what you thought and what do you think will happen next :) xx
Series Masterlist __ Masterlist
“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was.
“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.
“I told you, honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.
2 weeks ago
“Coming!” You yelled through the loud music at the guests seated by the table number 5 where a group of guys was seated, hollering at you every two seconds as if you didn’t hear them the first time. You rolled your eyes at your colleague, who just laughed under her breath as you strode towards the clients. You put on your best fake smile as you approached them, and from the whistles, you assumed they appreciated it.
“Thank God you came, sweets. We thought you were getting tired of us,” the loudest of them laughed, and the group followed his suit, making your clench your jaw even more. Oh, how you hated this type of men, who had nothing better to do than calling a woman pet-names, making her feel uncomfortable just so his friends could have a laugh and a story to tell.
“What can I get you, gentleman? Another round of the same?” You asked as sweetly as you could, but it was getting harder by the second as they all eyed you like a piece of raw meat, ready to be devoured.
“I mean, that would be nice, and could you serve us a piece of that sweet ass of course as well? We’d really appreciate it, pretty face,” the loud guy smirked sleazily, and you fought the urge to vomit in your face. One of the guys made the mistake of actually making a move to swat you across your butt, but your reflexes were quicker.
You took a step back and breathed in, trying to calm your beating heart. This was, however, nothing new in your line of work, and you just learned to ignore it, or, at best, politely turn them down. Because, as you learned very early on, the manager didn’t appreciate if his “girls” were nasty to his customers. He almost made it sound like you were to provide your bodies with the beers, but you told him straightforwardly that that wouldn’t happen, and if his pub was one of these, you wanted to have nothing to do with it. All you were there to do was to work the evening and night shift to get some extra money on top of your regular job, and that was it. He even made a few remarks how he wanted you all to himself, but you politely declined every time and just tried to ignore it altogether.
“This ass is not for sale, I’m sorry, boys. But, the vodka shots are coming right up,” you tried to give them your best wink but didn’t wait long enough to see if they accepted their loss or not. You genuinely didn’t care.
The night continued in a similar manner, some people being inappropriate and you just ignoring their behaviour, and some people actually nice, even leaving you a few tips which always made you smile. You were beat when it was 11, and your shift ended, and you were thrilled today wasn’t one of those days when you had to stay there till 4 AM. It was then that people got really disgusting and you even had to resolve to hit a guy this one time because otherwise, you were pretty sure he’d manage to rape you. You sighed at the memory as you continued on your way home, just now remembering you left the tips meant for you in your locker.
Sighing you turned around and walked back towards the bar, and when you were in, you noticed three men in black suits talking to your coworker, who looked stunned and scared at the same time. You cocked a brow at her, and she discreetly shook her head, telling you that you shouldn’t come nearer.
This time, you really frowned and looked around, but the rest of the pub looked exactly the way you left it, even with the assholes by the fifth table. But you listened to her and took a step back to one of the dark corners, watching what was going on by the bar. It didn’t take long, definitely not longer than 5 minutes before the men turned around and left the building.
Your coworker looked positively alarmed by now, and you almost ran to her to ask what the fuck did just happen.
“I have no idea, Y/N. I noticed them by table 10 like an hour ago, but I didn’t pay them any attention because that was Christy’s sector tonight and I had the veranda. And when you left they just came here asking about you,” she breathed out, and it was your turn to look alarmed.
“The fuck? Why would they ask about me when it was Christy who took care of them?” You screeched, your brain not really comprehending the situation.
“I have no fucking idea, Y/N. But, like, they asked your name and stuff, and like, if you were a regular waitress here or what. I didn’t want to tell them anything, I swear, but they didn’t take no for an answer. So I just told them your first name, I wouldn’t budge on your last, I promise, and told them that you sometimes worked here but that I didn’t know when was your next shift,” she finished, a little scared of your reaction now, but from the look of those guys, you knew they were bad news and that Anja did the best she could.
“Nah, it’s ok, An. I would do the same. I’m really grateful that you didn’t give them my last name, though, that was really thoughtful of you,” you smiled at her, and it obviously put her at ease as she hugged and hurried back to the veranda, where you both saw a few guests waving that they needed a refill.
The hell did just happen, and why would three mysterious men ask about you?
It couldn’t be that they found out, right? No… you made sure all the traces were hidden, forever, so, that wasn’t an option.
No, you told yourself, there must be another reason for them to ask about you. But you didn’t want to find out. It was a one-time thing, these men were just confused, or one of them liked you or something like that, and you would never see them again. This actually calmed you down enough to start functioning again, and you remembered that you came for something specific, took the money and went straight home.
“This can’t be happening,” you muttered as you looked over your bills. There was so much to pay and so little money on your account that you actually started to sweat. You worked two jobs and still wasn’t able to afford to live a life where you didn’t have to worry about money. What was more, with the high taxes, your rent, subway card and food you went into red numbers, and that was something you definitely didn’t want. Nobody told you that as an Arts Major, you could still be struggling to stay alive in the city of New York.
You went over the bills again even though you knew your math was correct and that you didn’t have enough to pay your landlord this month.
Fuck, you muttered again and considered your options. You could ask your friends, but you didn’t want to bother them since you knew they were struggling as much as you were. You shared your apartment with two of your best friends who you considered a family by now, Caroline and Aidan. And while you knew they would do anything to help you, neither of their jobs paid enough to be able to help you as much as you needed this month.
Your other option was asking your landlord to give you some more time before more money arrived, but just imagining the conversation gave you goosebumps because you could picture the kind of service he’d want from you, and you’d literally rather go and beg on the street than to sleep with that middle-aged pig.
So, as you summarised it, the only option remained the loan shark. Tony was actually a nice guy, once you got to know him, and he was nice to you because you always paid precisely what he told you to when he told you to, and never asked too many questions or begged for more time. You were smarter than that, and, besides, you’ve seen too many movies with loan sharks to know what could happen to you.
The first time you went to him was probably 2 years ago, straight from university when you still thought you could make it big in New York. Well, safe to say that you didn’t make it, and while you remained hopeful, you had bigger problems than becoming a renown painter, like not starving to death and other fun stuff like that.
You were awfully scared to go to Tony, he had a reputation of being kind of an ass, but people also said that, compared to the other guys in the business, he actually had the fairest demands, and as you had no other choice, you just went to him. And because life was a bitch, you ended up going there on more occasions. Tony was kind enough always to lend even small amounts of money because you really didn’t need 100K. No, you always need like 1 or 2 thousand, and while the other loan sharks turned people like you down, Tony didn’t, and he never wanted more than like 400$ as a return, which seemed quite fair as the other guys always wanted 100% or more.
Well, Tony, it was, as you sighed looking around your room, thinking how you even got where you were. But there was no time to waste pitying yourself, and so you shot Tony a quick message, as you always did, and to no surprise, he was very quick to respond that you should come by later that afternoon.
You were just getting ready when Aidan burst through your door. He stopped mid-step, looking at you confusedly because you didn’t tell him you were going somewhere.
“Got a date or what? You never go out on Saturday afternoon, not if you can help it,” he said sceptically, looking around the room as his eyes landed on the fumbled papers on your table, and the look of realisation hit him.
“You going to Tony again? Y/N, we told you, we can help you, babe! Let us help just this once, please?” He pleaded with you even though he knew it was useless.
“C’mon, babe, you know you and Caroline are not making much either, and you’re both glad to get by another month. Tony is like an old friend by now, really. I don’t mind it that much, and it’s definitely a better option than burying you two with me under this pile of shit,” you huffed as you finished applying mascara, but you didn’t even check yourself in the mirror, really not caring that much how you looked. You went to Manhattan just to meet Tony and would go straight back, quick mission, in and out.
“You need to find a better job, Y/N,” Aidan smirked at you, and you just laughed because you both knew it was pretty much impossible, especially since you loved your day job with the only issue that it paid like shit.
“You know this is my chance to be close to art and I really want it. I mean, it could happen that they promote me from being a receptionist to like, I dunno, being a secretary to one of the curators of the gallery, right?”
He just huffed and kissed the top of your head, striding towards the door. It was only then that you noticed he was dressed to go out as well.
“And where are you going, mister?” You asked with a mother-like tone, and he just laughed, turning around as if he was caught in the act.
“So, you remember John?” He asked, sitting on your bed, and you actually laughed out loud at him.
“Which one? I mean, there has been so many Johns and Peters that I swear to God I’m starting to think there are only men called John and Peter in the whole fucking New York. So, more info, babe, please,” you scooted to him and listened to which John it actually was he was meeting and was pretty excited about this. This was John the Ballet dancer, and he looked really nice, so far.
John the Fake Mobster was a lying bastard, John the Hairdresser wanted Aidan for just that one thing but would never admit it, and then you didn’t even have John-the for the guys because they were all just idiots who didn’t see your best friend for what he was: an amazing, although a little extra person with a very good heart, great sense of humour and amazing hair.
“Alright, well, you know the drill. Keep your phone on data so we can use Find your Friend if needed, keep your eyes open for anything sketchy going on, but, most importantly, enjoy yourself, babe. I’ll see you tonight,” you hugged him tightly and walked out of the apartment and into the busy streets.
If it were all up to you, you’d live in a secluded place, somewhere in the north probably, like outside Seattle, where you’d have a lovely little house, maybe by a river or by the ocean or something, where you’d have enough inspiration for your art and where you wouldn’t be annoyed by the little things, like the car horns blaring all the way to the night, people shouting underneath your bedroom’s window, and little things like that.
But life was not a factory for fulfilled wishes, and you had to endure another day trying to make it in New York. You thought about all of this as you walked down the street to where you knew you could find Tony. You weren’t happy that you had to go to him, again, but you also knew that you didn’t need to worry anymore. You would have the money for your landlord by the end of the week, and when the gallery paid you, you would pay Tony back. Again.
“If it isn’t my favourite girl!” You heard a familiar voice hollering from the shop, and you laughed lightly as you walked into the pawnshop Tony had set up in the lower Manhattan.
“Hello to you too, Tony. Today a yellow day, or what?” You greeted him as you looked at his outfit, which was just a canary yellow tracksuit and a matching hat. He looked like a character from a bad movie, but you knew better than to say anything like that.
“Yellow is very classy and trendy, thank you very much! Yesterday I wore this really nice green velvet tracksuit, and you should have seen some ladies walking by, they almost ate me with their eyes! I swear!” He added as he saw you stifling a laugh, but you just nodded in fake understanding, and both of you shared a relaxed laugh.
“So, what can I do for you today, sweetheart?” He drawled, and you shuffled on the spot, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when it came to this part.
“I need a thousand this week. Ton. I’ve been working my ass off, but the bills keep building up, and every time I think I’m out of it and I can live normally, there is always something holding me back,” you sighed, scratching your arms which was a nervous habit of yours that Tony grew quite fond of.
He was almost sorry for saying the next thing, but this was way above his pay grade, and while he really did take some liking to you, and he would always give you enough time to pay him off, he knew who he couldn’t piss off.
“Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal for you,” Tony started, and you frowned, not really knowing where this was going, but from the look on Tony’s face, you could tell it was nothing good.
“There is somebody who would like to get to know you, and he has a proposal for you that he believes you can’t refuse. I don’t know any specifics, I just know he is willing to pay you a lot of money, and I’m talking thousands and thousands, Y/N. He said that nothing sexual would be involved because I told him that if he was looking for a one night stand, you weren’t his girl, but he assured me that this wasn’t it. He would like to meet with you and tell you all the details if you let him. And before you say no, Y/N, think about it. All you gotta do now is to meet him and listen to him, and he is one of those guys who don’t take no for an answer,” Tony finished, and while you saw it pained him to give you the message, you were too stunned to care.
“What the hell are you talking about, Tony? Is this some kind of a sick joke? Like, did this guy tell you he wanted to talk to me specifically or just a girl desperate enough to come here?” You blurted, still not getting what he was about.
“He asked for you, sweetie. I don’t know how, but he knew you’d come and told me when you did to give you the message and give you his address. Which is here,” he said, handing you a piece of paper with an address and a date with the time written on it, “and he told me that if you came and agreed to his plan, you wouldn’t have to worry about money this week or any other week. It could be your chance, Y/N. Look, the guy is extremely powerful, so, please, just go and meet him, and you’ll see, ok?” He was scared, and it made you scoff out loud.
Great, so a loan shark was giving you a message to meet some mysterious, powerful asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer and who probably stalked you as he knew you would be coming to Tony sooner or later. Just great, really.
“It seems I don’t really have a choice, do I? Sheesh, Tony, at least tell me who this guy is and like how scared I should be. You gotta give me something because I can’t just go to some random house and be totally ok with it. Nobody can’t expect me to do so,” you pointed out, and Tony nodded in understanding.
“Totally, yeah. I even asked if I should come with you, but I was told you should be alone. You should be alert, let’s put it that way. If I were you, I’d really think before I speak, because this guy doesn’t take anything lightly. And I think it would be best if you didn’t know his name, Y/N. Just… he doesn’t want to hurt you, all he wants to do is speak to you, so please, just do it,” Tony finished just as some customer came into the shop.
You waited patiently because the conversation was far from over, but you knew better than to start shit in front of some stranger. Tony was evidently scared shitless of the guy, and it only fuelled your already growing anxiety. Tony was determined not to share too much information with you, but you didn’t understand why. Why could you not at least know the guy’s name? Who could it be?
Your brain took a detour to a few nights ago back at the pub where you saw the men asking about you, and a cold sweat broke on your skin. It must have been connected, there was no doubt in your mind about that, and it filled you with so much dread you actually had to catch your right hand with your left to stop yourself from shaking violently.
The doorbell rang signalling the customer left, and your eyes gazed at Tony, who was already staring at you apologetically.
“And what about the money, Tony? It’s Saturday, and I need to pay my rent by Friday next week. Nice of the guy, whoever the fuck he is, that he wants to see me, but he won’t if I’m on a fucking street next weekend,” you seethed, and Tony was quick to walk around the counter behind which he was standing this whole time and walked closer to you.
“He wants to see you on Wednesday, Y/N, and he specifically told me not to lend you any money, that he would take care of it. Whatever the fuck it means.”
“The fuck? I don’t even know his fucking name, and he will stop me from getting money to survive? What the actual hell, Tony? You can’t be serious right now,” you cried out in utter desperation because none of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to come, chat a little with the goatee man, get the money and walk back home, where you’d watch some stupid TV show and drink shitty wine.
But no, of all the people living in New York this shit must be happening to you. As you didn’t have enough on your fucking plate as was, some mysterious fucker had to be interested in you for whatever reason, and he wouldn’t let you live without talking to him first.
“Can’t you just call him and tell him that I want to have nothing to do with him?” You asked when you felt calm enough to talk again. You didn’t even know whether you were scared or desperate or angry, but at best, you were feeling a mix of all these and some more, that was for sure.
“No can do, sweetie, but I promise it will be alright, ok? You’re a strong one, I know that and whatever he wants from you, you can either give or can talk to him,” Tony smiled sweetly, and while you knew he was full of bullshit you let it slide because you just didn’t have it in you to fight with him when he was clearly just the messenger. Whoever wanted to speak to you, however, he would hear it from you because where were we that a guy just asks for a girl and the whole of New York delivers her to him on a silver platter?
Wednesday
“You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. Are you seriously considering going there? For all you know it might be some elaborate trap and somebody’s gonna jump you and kill you in some dark alley,” Caroline screeched at you as she saw you getting ready after you came home from work.
You had to ask for a night off from the pub since mister nobody wanted to meet you on your night of work. But you knew you couldn’t say no. Whoever it was, Tony was afraid of him, and Tony was a tough guy. And not that you wouldn’t be brave, but your bravery was mostly concentrated on being able to throw a spider out of the apartment or walk the corridor with the lights out, not really crossing some powerful guy who could do God-knows-what to you if you didn’t come.
“C’mon, guys. You know I gotta do it. And I honestly think if they wanted to kill me, they would have already done it,” you muttered, trying to pick something to wear, that wasn’t too revealing, but you also didn’t want to go wherever you were going in a pair of baggy sweatpants you were currently rocking.
“But like, what if they want to make a personal slave out of you, huh? Like, cuff you to a ceiling and serve them with your body, like a personal kind of slave, you know what I mean? You were not made to be strapped to a ceiling, babe,” Aidan panicked, and you actually had to laugh.
“Your imagination never ceases to astonish me, Aid. Or are you speaking from personal experience?” You smirked as both you and Caroline laughed out loud at Aidan’s expression of utter disgust.
“You two are disgusting, and I hate you, but that doesn’t change the fact you still don’t know where the fuck you’re going,” Aidan countered and you rolled your eyes at him.
“I’ll keep my data on so you can see me this whole time, and if I don’t call you by 9 PM you can send the cops there, deal?”
They both nodded in agreement, knowing this was the best they were getting. You were glad you had them in your life and that you had people caring enough to try and stop you from doing something stupid, but something in your told you that your life would be even worse if you didn’t go. At least this way you’d know the whole story, and you would be able to make an educated decision based on all the variables.
“A’ight, but if anything sketchy happens, you run, ok? We can figure out the money, but we can’t figure out shit if you’re not here with us,” Caroline reminded you, and you nodded solemnly.
God, you just hoped you weren’t making a mistake by listening to Tony. He even shot you a message in the afternoon, reminding you to go there because if you didn’t, it could end up badly for both of you. And it was actually one of the decisive arguments in the whole thing, surprisingly. You didn’t want anything happening to Tony, especially not because of you and your decisions, and so you just told yourself to suck it and prepared for the evening.
You really couldn’t afford the cab, so you had to leave super early to be at the given address at precisely 7 PM. You also grabbed the book you were currently reading, Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140, so that the ride to Manhattan wouldn’t be as dull and dreadful. You could think of the utopian future he depicts rather than thinking of your journey to the lion’s den, and that was the most promising image you created in your head about the place where you were headed.
Not that you didn’t try to find the place on Google maps, but all the buildings on the address looked the same, and, actually, quite nice, so you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.
Meanwhile, Tony texted you again since you didn’t reply to his previous text, and this time you took the time to craft a message telling him that yes, you were indeed headed to the manor and he didn’t need to worry about his own neck because you wouldn’t let others be hurt because of your incompetence or your cowardice.
You knew you were getting off on Chambers St station and you actually took the time to think how many people living in Tribeca had to take the subway. The answer was, very obviously, zero, as the majority of the people in the subway were either passing or were clothed in a way you knew they worked in either one of the restaurants there or as a help. And you felt like one of them, because you too didn’t live in the wealthiest village in New York, and you too were going there mainly for business. Well, at least you hope you did.
Checking every house number when you got to the street you were supposed to meet the mysterious guy at, you tried to find where exactly was the bat cave, and when you saw the number 112, you knew you found it.
Your breath came in ragged huffs as you tried to gather the last remnants of your bravery as you walked up the stairs and buzzed on the door. Your head was spinning lightly, and you actually had to lean against the wall beside you to regain your composure.
The door soon revealed a massive man dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of black jeans, and you were actually quite surprised not to see him with sunglasses and an earpiece. If the situation weren’t so tense, you’d probably joke about it, but as it was, you just followed his lead as he beckoned you inside.
“Miss Y/L/N, I presume? I need to see your phone and your belongings, ma’am,” he stated, and you raised a brow at him.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a standard procedure, ma’am. Everybody here to see the boss needs to be checked, just in case,” he stated, leaving no room for discussion, and while you sighed exasperatedly, you still handed him your bag and made a point by fishing out the phone and shoving it in his outstretched hand. He took a quick look through your belongings, pushing it against what you assumed was some kind of a metal detector before he pulled out another device. This looked like a big phone, and he scanned your bag once again.
“What is that?” You asked, unable to stop your curiosity.
“Checking if you’re not bugged,” he answered matter-of-factly as he continued before he put the device down, clearly not finding anything. Where would you even get a bug, and why would you do it? You rolled your eyes inwardly but kept a straight face in front of the man, just in case he was watching. Which he was, as you found out by him waving in front of your face and showing you to follow him.
You braced yourself for whatever was awaiting upstairs and obediently walked behind him.
As you walked through the house, you got the impression that whoever lived there was wealthy, but that kind that didn’t really put on a flashy show. There were no chandeliers, no heavy curtains and stuff you pretty much imagined this place would look like and that image had nothing to do with the Beast and the Beauty dance room, nothing at all.
But this was… modest. Everything was very contemporary, some prominent brick here and there with mostly grey floors and the furniture was most definitely customary but, again, it was plain yet luxurious. You assumed that’s how the really rich people lived. They knew they had the money, and the people around them knew it as well, so there was no need for diamond stairs and a golden toilet.
A few names surged from memory as you heard your coworkers discuss the wealthy New Yorkers, but you didn’t want to assume anything before you actually saw the person, so you just walked by the halls before the man stopped in front one of the rooms and quietly knocked.
It was not surprising when another man dressed exactly like the guy leading you appeared from the room and took a quick look at you before he said something to whoever was behind him. When the affirmative came that you could indeed go in there, they shoved the door open and what you assumed was a living room appeared in front of you. It corresponded with the whole house, but your attention was caught by one specific thing. Your brain had its own world, and when you saw one of Tunji Adeniyi-Jones’s paintings from his last year’s exhibit, you almost fainted. He was your favourite contemporary artist. And seeing his work outside of the gallery was practically an otherworldly feeling. You gaped at the beautiful play of colours, and your heart swooned at the perfection of the brush strokes.
“Ehm,” you heard somebody cough beside you, and it startled you so much you actually jumped to the side, your hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to will your heart to stay calm.
You took the intruder in and found out that unlike every other man in the room (and there were a few, as you noticed) this guy wasn’t wearing all-black attire. He was in a comfortable-looking creme sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, everything fitting him as if the clothes were sawn to his body.
Which, as far as you could tell, was the body of a Greek God.
“See something you like, honey?” The man interrupted thoughts, and it just crossed your mind that he was really rude, not letting you breathe even for a second before he had to make his presence known.
“Yes, actually. I’m quite a big fan of the artist whose painting you have there, so I admired that. And you are?” You trailed at the end, signalling that while he was very handsome, you had no idea who he was and why it was that you needed to come to him this evening.
“Straight to business, huh? I like that. I’m quite surprised Tony didn’t tell you who I was. Was he scared you wouldn’t have come if you knew?” He didn’t wait for your answer, however. “Well, honey, I’m Steve Rogers, and I am very pleased to meet you,” he smirked at your stomach dropped.
Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers? It wasn’t possible.
“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you scratched your arms nervously.
“Oh no, on the contrary. I’m all too real, Miss Y/L/N, and from the looks of it, I’m glad Tony didn’t tell you, you look like you might faint. Are you feeling alright?” He asked like the smug asshole he was, and you just turned away from him, taking a deep breath before you finally turned back around to face him with a pokerface.
“I’m alright, thank you. So now, can I know what it is you want from me so much you stalked me and made me come here, pretty much by force?”
He scoffed but showed you to follow him to the sofa. When you didn’t budge, he simply took you by your elbow and pretty much shoved you down to the plump sofa.
“Force, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply asked you to come visit me, is it so wrong? But yes, you are right, we should talk about why I invited you here. You see, Y/N, I’m in need of a wife, and after long calculations, I came to the conclusion you would be perfect for the job,” he said straightforwardly, and it was now that you felt like you’d faint.
“Marry me? Are you fucking insane?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Form the pissed off expression on his face, you could see it was not the right move, but he couldn’t expect any other reaction, really.
“Easy, honey or I might have to use the said force to shut that smart mouth of yours,” Steve mumbled dangerously, and you swallowed harshly.
“Right, you’re a notorious mobster, and I’m literally nobody, and if you killed me, nobody would miss me. Good, now that’s out of the table, why do you want to marry me? And what does it mean you are in need of a wife? I mean… you are notorious for dating a different girl every week, can’t you just marry one of them if you’re in such a great hurry?”
“No, honey, I can’t. All you need to know right now is my proposal. So, here it is. You will marry me, we will stay married for a year and then get a divorce. You will have everything every girl ever wanted: loads of clothes, all the time in the world to do whatever the fuck you want, you won’t have to work, and I will pay for everything and more. You will live here so you won’t have to worry about your rent money, and I will also pay your student loan, on top of which you will be paid 20.000$ every month for playing your role. And when the year is over, you will walk away rich, without any debts slowing you down and you will be able to do anything you want. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like it’s not a proposal but a directive,” you smiled sweetly and stood up, pacing the room and scratching your hands like crazy. This was not happening, no, no, no!
You needed the money, you really did, and getting rid of the debt from your student loan that would have been sweet too, but at what price? On the other hand, you thought, how bad could it be to just be somebody’s wife for a year? He did make it sound pretty easy.
“What would be expected of me?”
“Well, you would go with me to every event and pretty much listen to everything I say,” he shrugged as if it was the most natural thing to say to another human being.
“Like, you’d ask me to spread my legs for you here, and I would do it?” You asked, suddenly very angry that the man just assumed what kind of a person you were. You were desperate, but not that desperate.
“Oh, no, honey. That is one of the reasons why I chose you: I’m not attracted to you, so no, I wouldn’t ask you for any sexual favours. We could even put that to our contract if you’d feel better, but, really, you have nothing to worry from me,” he again said with ease, and you didn’t know if you were glad he just told you this or really pissed and ashamed.
Not that you thought you were some kind of a beauty, far from it, but he also didn’t have to be so upfront about it. And now you understood it even less why the hell he chose you.
“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was.
“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.
“Honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.
“Then why choosing me if you don’t find me attractive? Not that it’s an issue, I’m just really trying to understand the situation here,” you said, totally ignoring the threat in his voice as you needed some much valuable answers.
“Right, well, first of all, as I already mentioned, what I want, I get, honey, and you should always remember that. Secondly, it was your ability to keep a straight face, even though I can see the ability is not endless. I need somebody who will be sickly sweet to both my friends and enemies alike, who won’t mind a few sleazy comments from the old fuckers, and who will look like an obedient wife. I need somebody who will blend in and who will look trustworthy, and not like she was to stay only for a week. And when I saw you in that pub where you used to work, I could see you had what it took to be in this life, even if only for a year,” he finished, and you were glad you were right at least about the guy, Steve, also sending the people to sniff around your workplace. But then it hit you.
“Where I used to work? I still work there,” you said dumbfounded, and Steve chuckled humorously.
“Oh no, you don’t. You see, I need my wife free all the time and I need her here with me. Look, Y/N, this is getting tiring, and I really need an answer now. What is it gonna be, huh?”
“Like I even have a choice. You just said you would use force if I said no, so, what am I supposed to say, huh? I don’t want to get married, but I don’t have any money and your snoopy ass is getting in the way of my life, and you ended one of my jobs, and before you say you terminated my contract in the gallery, please think about it again. That job is very important to me, it has always been my dream to be in a gallery surrounded by beautiful art, and, by chance, having my art there as well.
I don’t know Steve, your offer is very generous, it really is, but I don’t think I’m the right one,” you sighed finally and looked around the room, ignoring the boring looks from Steve. Then you saw the clock and you almost panicked, it was two minutes before 9.
“Oh my God, I need to call my friends, or they’re gonna call the cops,” you said quickly already dialling Caroline’s number. You told her you were fine and that no, you weren’t a personal slave yet, but that you’d tell them everything when you got home. When the call ended, the venom was back in Steve’s eyes.
“If you think you can talk to people about anything I have just said, you are terribly wrong, doll,” he seethed, and you were taken aback, but you didn’t want him to think he intimidated you.
“Well, if you think I’m not gonna tell my family about this, then it’s you who is terribly wrong, Steve. We tell each other everything, and if I considered this proposal of yours, it would mean Aidan and Caroline would know about this, at least that I’m marrying you for more than my undying love for you,” you spat back, and Steve saw the determination in your eyes. He knew he had to compromise with you, even if only a little bit.
He already found out everything about you, he knew your whole life, your past, everything his people could find on the internet. And what he got from the search was that you and the people you lived with were extremely close. He considered getting rid of them but realised it would only push you away from what he needed from you. And he needed a wife ASAP.
The mafia was still very conservative, and as he was the only boss without a constant woman by his side, he was sometimes excluded from important meetings that happened on “family retreats.” And he needed all the info there was if he wanted to be the best of the best. Or, the worst of the worst, if we were being literal.
“Fine, but they will need to sign a contract saying that they will keep their mouths shut,” Steve smiled back, and you nodded, your head already spinning.
Were you really considering it? But was there any other option? You needed the money, and it would’ve be great if you didn’t have to care about your student loan for the rest of your life. You would see the world, just like you wanted, you would have time for your art, and you would be free after only a year. That didn’t sound that bad. Sure, you’d be affiliated with a known mafia boss, but that was nothing you couldn’t handle. But there was still a question Steve didn’t answer.
“What about my job at the gallery? If you made them fire me and I’m gonna find out tomorrow, I can’t even begin to consider this. I want that job, I want to work at that gallery, Steve.”
“Fucking hell, I could buy you the gallery if you agreed!” He shouted, exasperated that it was taking so long. He really didn’t get it. He was proposing a life in luxury, and he knew that the majority of women in New York would be more than happy to be seen by his side. But you? You had to be difficult and even demand stuff. Fucking hell…
“But whatever, you wanna work there, fine. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Do we have a deal or not? I have better things to do with my evening than just bargain with you, honey,” he accentuated the pet name that you already hated.
Well, this wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to go. Not that you were too keen on the whole idea of a marriage, but still, a girl could dream. Yet, here you were, actually considering getting tied up with a mobster for a year just because he offered you enough money and a life that you felt like could be interesting, if only for a year and with a man who blatantly told you he wasn’t interested in you in that way. This was the only reason you didn’t feel as dirty as you expected because you knew he would never touch you and never want you to do something sexual against your will.
You were used to lying through your teeth ever since you were little, your parents made sure you knew how important it was to keep your secret, and dangerous life wasn’t something you only heard of on TV. All this made the decision slightly easier, as you finally made up your mind.
“Fine, but we still have a lot to talk about, Mr Rogers,” you set your jaw and outstretched your hand to shake on it with him.
“Whatever, Mrs Rogers. Consider your rent paid and I’ll see you on Friday when we discuss our matter in greater detail. Now, if you excuse me,” he kissed the top of your hand and walked away.
Well, this would be fun, you told yourself as you watched the man you would soon call your husband walk away from you, and contemplated whether you made the right choice. But your life wasn’t great as was, as much as you tried to fill it with laughter and happiness, and, in a sense, Steve offered you an out, even if only for a little bit.
Here was to nothing, you hollered at yourself in your mind and followed one of the turtleneck-guys out of the manor and into the chilly air of evening New York.
/ Next Chapter >
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Maybe It’s Time
Pairing: a bit of Steve x Reader, but leaning towards Bucky x Reader in the end
Warning: angst, fluff in the end! Feelings...
A/N: So... another comfort fic... gotta thank @world-of-aus for helping me on this one! Bucket, thank you for literally being a real one and helping me through it all! I owe you so much girl! It’s been a hard one for me as of late folks, so this one kinda feels like a comfort fic to me personally. Kinda out of the blue, but as always, writing seems to be my escape. So for all who are going through something, I hope you know I am here for you and I am willing to lend an ear for you guys! I hope you all seek a bit of comfort through this one shot! Enjoy!
Bucky’s eyes gently opened, hearing something coming from the other room. Something that has to have become a regular thing for him now for a long while. Your piano playing.
He recognized this piece more than ever: Debussy’s Clair de Lune.
He sat up gently on the edge of the bed, grunting softly while Alpine softly purred as she stirred herself awake. It was raining; a soft pitter patter of the rain falling against the glass windows accompanied with your soft playing would have been enough to have kept him asleep, his nightmares slowly fading away and going into the wonderful dreams that he had once dreamt of. However, tonight’s playing was different, for the once playful, joyous, and thoughtful tunes coming from those black and white keys have been melancholic for quite a while. Too long of a while. Tonight, something within Bucky Barnes compelled him to do something different from these previous nights. Rather than admire your playing from afar, letting your emotions run wild by yourself, he’ll make his presence known.
Alpine meowed, watching her owner slowly put on his fuzzy slippers (courtesy of you) before she fell asleep. Bucky smiled sleepily, giving her one more pet before quietly making his way out of his room, and into the dark living room in your guys’ shared floor. The sight in front of him definitely reflected Clair de Lune: beautiful, yet filled with emotion, filled with sorrow. It hurt him even more to know just why you were hurting.
You were restless. You were critical. You tried, you fought, you pushed, you pulled.
Yet it was never enough.
At the end of the day, you got hurt. You were thrown away, rendered useless to someone who you loved deeply and passionately. Someone who you devoted yourself to, thinking they’d dedicate themselves in the same manner. You remember that day clearly, feelings still fresh from a year ago.
You were still wrapping your head around the fact that you were part of the half who disappeared in the blip. However, thoughts were brushed aside as he smiled softly at you as Bruce got everything ready, coming towards you as you returned the smile on your face. You wrapped your arms around him, your soft eyes looking at him with love and devotion, as it always had. “Be careful,” you whisper into his lips with a smile. “I will, Y/N… don’t you worry.” He says with a smile nuzzling his nose against yours. “I just wanna ensure your safety, for your sake,” You reply with a giggle. “My sake or yours?” He questions with a much bigger smile. “How about we settle with both?” You whisper, your giggles ringing in Steve’s ears. He couldn’t help the long and loving kiss that was shared between the both of you before he went off to the platform.
You watched your boyfriend, standing in his suit, Mjolnir in one hand and the case of the Infinity Stones in the other, standing in the middle of the platform with a determined look on his face. You smiled even more, for Steve Rogers, being himself, has managed to save the world once again with the Avengers. You smiled alongside Bucky and Sam who were watching him disappear out of sight. “And returning in 5… 4… 3… 2...1…” Bruce counts down, only for you three to see no one back on the platform. You began to worry. Did something go wrong? What happened? Is he okay?
Your mind was laden with panic and it wasn’t until you saw a figure sitting alongside the lake, shield propped up next to him. Confusion laced your worried features, but the two men knew. Sam talked to him as you looked on in shock, mind still connecting things together. You shook your head in denial as you saw a wedding ring on his finger. At that moment you knew.
You weren’t enough.
You slowly made your way, deciding to be strong, heart wrenching when you saw this once burly, blond man now with wrinkles, haggard, and with a wedding ring.
“Y/N,” he says, but you cut him off, forcing a smile on your face, forcing your tears to not fall down.
“N-no. It’s okay… I.. I get it… I’m.. I’m happy for you, Steve.”
You hated it. You hated having to have your hand held by him one last time, a squeeze of hands quietly speaking of the terms that you both are now on. You were never his. Never. Peggy remained his one and true love that beat time and space. And who were you to argue? She rightfully gained her place. Maybe it was time for you to accept the fact that there was no room for you in Steven Grant Rogers’ life.
But that didn’t stop the hurt that still clouds your mind and thoughts. The remembrance of the hurt and the deception on your side of the story was still fresh. The repeat of the memory merely adds salt to your still fresh wounds. It’s been inside you since then, the neverending ache courses through you. So you play. You play the grand piano and its keys with your heart out on your sleeve not caring for the sobs that leave your lips, hands gracefully touching the keys of the piano, a slow crescendo coming in as the feelings of hurt slowly grow. Your eyes stay shut as your left hand starts to move more and more, right hand playing chords and the sorrowful melody. By the time the climax of the song arrives, you are sobbing even more than before, body shaking as the pain takes on a more tangible form on your piano. Your head is swirling, your body feeling like it was going to float, you were so clouded in your mind, until a particular man with a metal arm sat quietly next to you, putting you back in your space, where you currently were.
However, you stopped dead in your tracks, embarrassed that your best friend had caught you in this particular moment, so your eyes try their hardest to remain on the keys. You already knew that his ocean blue ones were staring at you. His metal hand carefully rests upon your right hand, lightly interlocking his fingers with yours.
“I’m not over it either,” he whispers in your ear.
Again, you cry, turning your body slightly to cling to his figure. Cries slowly turn into sobs. Hugging Bucky for dear life, you said the things that have been in your head for so long.
“B-Buck.. Why did he leave?! Why?! And when we just came back?! Why Peggy, Buck?! What does she have that I don’t?! What has our time together meant to him?! Is it because I’m not as skinny as her?! Is she smarter than me? Is she funnier? More humorous? Is she kinder? Is she-”
Bucky felt the same way. He knew how you felt. He felt that way about the punk too. He wasn’t thinking of Captain America, but Steve. The little kid from Brooklyn, the same guy who had asthma, who put newspapers in his shoes, who hid an extra key under a brick. He felt like he lost his place too. However, he knew how you felt was just as bad. He understood you. It pained him to see you crying. Admittedly enough, he only hoped that you look beautiful in his eyes despite your sobs and tears. A literal angel, he’d think to himself. Unfortunate that he can’t teach his best friend a thing or two about taking care of his girl. You were in pain for so long.
His hands cupped your wet cheeks and slowly wiped the tears with his thumbs, a tiny smile when he feels you relax to his touch, kissing your forehead to further soothe you. “Steve doesn’t know what was in front of the whole time, sweetheart,” he whispers.
“He did… apparently I’m only a substitute till there was a way. That’s all I am to anyone. A substitute.”
“I never thought of you that way.” He admits quietly, so quietly, that only you both can hear, causing you to look up at him in surprise. “H-Huh? But…” “I said what I said, Y/N… I mean it. You were, are, and always will be such a sweet, kind, and beautiful dame. There’s no kind like you anywhere here, not even Peggy or anyone for that matter can replicate what you have sweetheart. So who cares who’s skinnier? Who cares if one is more funny? In the end of the day, we knew you did all you could. It hurts. I know. But, you’re gonna have that one guy who is gonna treat ya like no man ever could. I’ll make sure of that.” He whispers, looking at you dead in the eyes with understanding and love in his eyes. A small smile finally kisses your face. Not a fake one, but a small genuine one. One that only someone like James Buchanan Barnes would notice. “That’s my girl.” He whispers and smiles, hugging you once again.
He pulls away, starting to play the first few notes of Clair de Lune, eyes carefully watching yours, an invitation. You shyly joined in, allowing yourself to take your place and playing a part. You and James couldn’t help the smile that goes on your faces as it starts to progress. You watched as both his flesh and metal hand graced the keys effortlessly, nicely paired along with yours as they also graced the keys, completing this song’s melody. What was wreaking of pain and sorrow turned pensive, calming, even providing a form of resolution. You guys smiled as you both played your notes louder and louder the two of you effortlessly mirroring each other, no need to say the dynamic, the mood, the notes to play, it was all unplanned, yet it still sounded beautiful. A giggle leaves your mouth, another genuine one for the first time, which causes Bucky to smile big, happy to see you smiling again. He watches as your guys’ fingers glide through the keys, hands sometimes weaving in and out harmoniously, never causing extra struggle.
“Thank you, James… I really really feel better after all of that” you say softly, letting yourself nuzzle your face into his torso, hugging the super soldier tightly. “You always know what to say to me. You always know what to do. Always have. Thank you,” You whisper, smiling softly as the man tightens his hold on you. You both chuckled when a yawn now leaves your lips, resulting in Bucky scooping you up bridal style. “Not a problem, sweetheart. I’m always gonna be here. M’not going anywhere I promise.” He says softly, yet in a determined tone. He vowed to himself no matter where he stood in your life, he was gonna make sure you were loved and cared for. He always wanted that for you. Always looked at you in a way he never thought he’d look at a woman. Even today the way he perceived you was the same: a kind, beautiful, giving, and optimistic person who was kind to anyone but herself. “Why don’t we get you to bed, huh? I think you deserve this to say the least.” He says softly, making his way through the hallway into your bedroom.
“A-Actually. Do you think I can just lay with you tonight?” You ask shyly. You felt comfortable in his arms. He made you feel warm, protected. You didn’t want to let that go. Not now. Of course, Bucky could not say no, so he carried you to his room, where you both met a sleeping Alpine perched on her cute tower. You smiled as he laid you down gently before he laid next to you, an arm wrapped around your waist. “Thank you, Buck…you know I’m grateful for you,” you murmured sleepily, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and relaxing. Bucky only smiled and rubbed your back for comfort. “Never forget I’ll do anythin’ for you sweetheart. Promise.” He whispers, sleep taking over him a bit quicker than a normal night. You smiled as you watched his breathing steady out, knowing he was asleep. You couldn’t help the grin from ear to ear before you slept yourself. It will take a while for this pain of yours to end, but… maybe, just maybe it’s time for you to stop looking at what’s behind and what’s beyond. Maybe it’s time for you to rediscover your worth, who you can love and who can love you. Maybe it’s time that you trust yourself, for you are worth it all and you alone is a good enough reason to live your life as it should. And maybe, just maybe… you’ll see where the brunette man with a metal arm in front of you will stand in your life. Just one step at a time and one day at a time, you tell yourself as you slowly drift into dreamland. However, you were happy, for this was the first night you felt like you were enough, and felt that hope that used to reside in your heart. For once in a long time, you didn’t feel the weight in your heart anymore, for behind you, Bucky Barnes was right behind you carrying it right with you.
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