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spiderwebbedhearts · 10 days ago

Text

LOVEEE THISSS

can't get enough

pairing: congressman!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you're woken up by bucky being called away for some congressional business, but you don't want him to go. as you're making the most of the time you have together, he reminds you of the night before, when you celebrated him coming home after a few weeks away.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), there are no spoilers for thunderbolts*, smut, light angst, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, vaginal fisting, double vaginal penetration, inappropriate use of bucky's metal arm, rough sex, pussy spanking, painful sex/painplay, bdsm elements (mostly check-ins, bucky briefly restrains reader's wrists with his hands), biting, finger sucking, come play, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (little one, baby), referenced edging using sex toys, aftercare, established relationship, lots of feelings

word count: 8.3k

a/n: ok so i originally wrote this fic back when the first Thunderbolts* trailer dropped, and we saw Bucky's metal arm in the dishwasher, but i just never got around to editing it 🫣 and it was a bit of a struggle, i honestly had no idea how to end this fic! also, i'm pretty sure a congressman wouldn't travel so much, but it was necessary for the fic so we're gonna ignore those inaccuracies! anyway, this is pretty much just pure smut with some feelings, so i hope y'all enjoy ♡

The loud, incessant buzzing of a phone on the table beside your bed dragged you mercilessly from sleep. With a muffled groan, you rolled over, the sheets smooth against your bare skin as you sought the warmth of Bucky Barnes.

He’d already shifted onto his side to answer the phone, and you burrowed your face between his shoulder blades, nose nudging the bumps of his spine, smile pressing into his skin when you felt his deep, sleep-roughened voice while he spoke.

“Yes?”

There was a pause filled by the tinny sound of someone on the other end speaking. Though you couldn’t hear their words, you got the gist. Bucky was being called away on some sort of official congressional business—or the unofficial business that had him investigating Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.

Either way, it only meant one thing, and it had the corners of your mouth pulling down in an unhappy frown.

“Alright, gimme an hour.”

Bucky’s sigh was drowned out by the wooden thunk of him tossing his phone back on the bedside table. Then he was rolling onto his back, his arm digging beneath your waist and pulling you into his warm body until you were half sprawled on top of him.

So much of your bare skin was pressed to his, and you hummed contentedly, sleep still nipping at the corners of your consciousness and urging you to return to its comforting embrace. But then you remembered the call and what it meant.

“Noooo,” you whined, curling your arms around Bucky’s shoulders and wrapping your legs around his thigh, holding on tight and trying to prevent him from leaving the bed.

You knew it was pointless—he was a super-soldier, and even though he wasn’t wearing his metal arm, he could easily extract himself from your hold. Or carry you as he got out of bed, which you would mind less.

A low, reluctant chuckle rumbled in Bucky’s chest and he brushed a kiss to your forehead, to the spot where your brows were furrowed in a frown, his scruffy jaw making you shiver.

“I have to go in,” he said, stating what you’d already surmised. “And you need the rest, little one.” His voice dropped to a playful growl that had you laughing even as you pouted.

“I do not,” you grumbled, burying your face in Bucky’s bare chest, delighting in the way the soft hair dusting his skin tickled your cheeks. Your words were muffled by the way your mouth was pressed into the layer of softness atop the packed muscle of Bucky’s chest, but you knew he heard you fine.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged, his warm hand ghosting down your spine and smoothing over your bare ass. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, just enough to make you mewl softly and squirm on top of him.

You were distracted from his question by Bucky’s groping hand, your legs falling open instinctively and your head tipping to the side to let out a soft moan. Bucky’s laughter rumbled in his chest, teasing your nipples to aching points while his hand slipped between your thighs.

His fingers explored the soft, swollen folds of your pussy, his darkened blue eyes watching your face carefully, as if checking your body for tenderness. When you merely sighed happily, your muscles loosening and relaxing until you were little more than a warm puddle on his chest, Bucky brushed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Then, without warning, he pulled his fingers away and used the flat of them to deliver a light swat to your well-used, puffy pussy.

The gentle sting had you whining sharply and writhing on top of Bucky’s chest, arching your back and presenting your cunt in a way that you hoped enticed him to give you more—you didn’t care if it was more light spanks or thrusting his fingers inside your dripping hole.

“Greedy girl,” Bucky rumbled, a hint of admonishment in his tone, but his voice was so washed in warmth, it was hard to take the scolding seriously. Especially when he indulged your needy sounds and spanked your pussy again, a little harder that time.

Despite Bucky’s examination, you were still a little sensitive and sore from the previous night, and you trembled beneath the firm swat to your puffy pussy, letting out a pathetic whimper at the sting of pain, even as tingles of pleasure swirled deliciously through your core.

There was an ache in your muscles, and an exhaustion deep in your bones, that was coaxing you to fall back to sleep. But the knowledge that Bucky was leaving, and you weren’t sure when he’d be back, had you fighting against it.

Instead, you sank into the pleasure of Bucky’s hand, writhing lazily against him, your thigh brushing against his thickening cock. Your fingers trailed down Bucky’s side until they bumped against the tip, then you danced them down his shaft, enjoying the feeling of his hard length twitching against your touch.

Before you could get too distracted by Bucky’s cock, though, he delivered another, sharper, spank to your pussy. You keened loudly, your back arching, ass lifting in the air as you begged for him to stop tormenting you.

“Please,” you gasped, spreading your legs wider, inviting him to give you more.

“Still hungry for me, little one?” Bucky teased, his voice a delicious, sleep-roughened rasp that danced along your spine and settled heavily between your thighs, making your clit throb with need. “Even after everything I gave you last night?”

His fingers rubbed your puffy pussy, making a mess of the wetness that was already leaking from your slit. When he spanked you lightly again, it made an obscene wet sound that had you squirming and keening pitifully.

“Bucky, please,” you mewled, sliding your hands up Bucky’s chest to curl over his shoulders and brace against his broad body to rock your hips back against his teasing fingers. “Need you—I’ll always need you,” you whined raggedly.

Moving on instinct, you slid your leg across his hips until you were straddling him. The hard line of his cock was a heavy, delicious ridge between your thighs and your hips worked, grinding down on him, your clit bumping against all the veins of his shaft and drawing a needy whimper from your lips.

“Please.”

“Greedy, insatiable girl,” Bucky murmured, the words sounding more like praise than admonishment in his deep, rasping voice.

You could do little more than purr your happiness before he was ducking his head and capturing your mouth in a kiss. Your mind went blissfully blank as his lips tasted yours, his hand shifting to your hip, fingers rubbing your own wetness into your skin as he dug into your soft flesh.

Bucky used his grip to urge you to grind against his thick cock, all while he swallowed your whimpers and moans like a hungry beast, his own pleasure rumbling deep in his chest.

Your need ratcheted higher with every sweep of his tongue between your lips, and your hips humped desperately, feeling every throb and twitch of his hardness between your slick, swollen folds.

Truthfully, there was a slight ache in your core, but you ignored it. You were too ravenous for Bucky to even think about stopping your hips from working and coating his cock in your desire.

When the blunt tip of him caught in your thoroughly used hole and threatened to slide into your puffy pussy, Bucky stilled beneath you, his hand gripping the soft curve of your hip so hard that you came to a rest with a protesting whine.

You were panting with need, your mouth open, lips brushing against Bucky’s as you breathed each other’s air. But as you retreated enough to see what had made him stop, you caught the flash of concern in his darkened blue eyes.

“Little one,” Bucky rumbled, a strained warning in his tone, like it killed him to have to stop you.

If it had been any other morning, you might’ve given in to Bucky’s urging that you rest—but that was because he would’ve been there to take care of you. He would’ve cuddled up with you under a blanket and gotten you everything you needed so you could keep relaxing.

But he was leaving in an hour—less than, since it had already been a few blissful minutes since he’d hung up the phone—and so the gluttonous hunger churning in the depths of your body would not be ignored. No matter how concerned Bucky was for you, you needed him.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, urgent desperation in your sleepy, husky voice. Your hips were already pushing against his hold on your body, a pitiful whine rising in your throat when he kept you pinned with his super-soldier strength.

For a long moment, Bucky’s eyes raked over your face, taking in the pout on your lips and the pleading expression in your gaze. Finally, his hand loosened on your hip and you pushed back, impaling yourself on the tip of Bucky’s cock.

A breathy moan slipped from your lips, and you tipped your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt his hard cock drag against your sensitive inner walls. It felt so good to have him inside you, filling you up in the most perfect, delicious way only he could, that your mind went blank with pleasure.

Time stretched exquisitely, and all you could do was feel. Your head spun as your body moved slowly, your hips sinking further and further down on Bucky’s cock. It was exactly what you needed—every throbbing inch of his length sliding deeper into your tight hole as you stretched around his thick shaft.

When you were fully seated on his cock, Bucky’s hand wrapped around the nape of your neck, fingers digging into your skin and dragging you close to hold you pinned to his broad chest. Your nipples rubbed against his hard muscles and the soft hair dusting across his pecs, teasing them deliciously.

“Greedy girl,” Bucky growled, tipping your face toward his until your lips brushed against his, but he didn’t kiss you. He just breathed heavily while you panted into his mouth. “You can’t get enough of me, huh?” he asked, a teasing thread in his tone.

It was on the tip of your tongue to cry out ‘no, never’, but just then, Bucky shoved his hips up roughly, fucking so deep into your body, you could’ve sworn you felt him deep in your belly. A sob wrenched free from your throat at the pleasure, which was edged in just enough pain to make to make it sharper, more intense.

“Can’t get enough of my cock, even after everything I gave you last night?” Bucky went on, his harsh breaths spilling past your parted lips as he fucked you. “Good. I want you to feel me in your greedy cunt even while I’m gone—I want you thinking about everything I did to you this morning—and especially last night—so you know what I’m going to do to you when I get home.”

At his words, memories of the night before flooded your mind…

Bucky Barnes had been gone for weeks. He was meeting with businesses and local community leaders in his home district of Brooklyn, New York, while you were left alone in the Washington D.C. apartment you shared together.

You knew being a congressman gave Bucky a purpose, something he hadn’t had in a while, but did he really need to be gone for weeks?

In your opinion, Bucky being gone for weeks was too long.

Sure, he did what he could to keep in touch even amidst his busy schedule. He made a point to call you at least once a day, and though you’d had phone sex a handful of times, nothing compared to having him with you—his warmth in your bed, his arms around your body, his cock buried deep between your thighs.

You’d taken to wearing his starched, white button-up shirts whenever you were home at night, breathing in the scent of him as much as you could. You’d lay in the bed you shared, with nothing on except that shirt.

When he got home on the night he was due back, that was how he found you, clad in his white shirt, only a few of the buttons done up, giving him teasing glimpses of your tits and pussy while you squirmed excitedly on the bed. Hunger darkened his blue eyes and a wolfish smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Then, Bucky fell on you like a starving man, his metal hand sliding between the plackets of the shirt and tearing it open like it was little more than tissue paper—and you were the present he was eager to unwrap.

His heated gaze swept down your bared body, a ravenous look in his eyes, before his larger form covered yours and his mouth captured your lips in a searing kiss.

Bucky kissed you like it was the first and last time, his mouth greedy as he devoured every sound you made and every breath you exhaled. In turn, you kissed him selfishly, your fingers curling around the nape of his neck and holding him close, stealing all the air from his lungs while he pinned you to the bed with his heavy body.

“Missed me?” Bucky asked teasingly on the first opportunity to come up for air. He shot you a smirk that was dripping with male satisfaction and humor—both of which made the need in your belly burn even hotter.

Your hands slid down the sides of his neck, palms skimming over the stubble beneath his jaw and dug your nails into his skin. Without grace, you yanked Bucky back down on top of you, your shoulders lifting off the bed to meet him as your mouths collided again.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you growled into his mouth.

At that, Bucky chuckled, slipping his tongue obligingly between your lips, but you were merciless. You wrapped your lips around his tongue and sucked on him so ravenously, he groaned loudly into your mouth.

Reflexively, his hips jerked, digging deeper between your thighs until his bulge was grinding against your bare pussy, your legs squeezing his hips and humping against his cock.

“Bucky,” you whined, throwing your head back and nearly knocking your chin into his nose while you writhed beneath him, desperately seeking your pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re needy tonight,” Bucky cursed on a sharp exhale, trying to sit up on his knees so he could strip off his clothes.

But you were clinging to him too tightly, and he ended up dragging you with him, so you sat spread across his thick thighs. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, your legs around his waist, your mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his stubbled jaw.

Bucky laughed huskily, and murmured, “Little one,” with an edge of admonishment in his tone that didn’t do anything to dislodge you. In fact, you barely heard it.

You were too busy dragging the blunt edges of your teeth over Bucky’s scruffy cheek, licking his bristly jaw and making obscene little moans when you tasted the salt on his skin and the musk of his sweat. Your mouth found the spot on Bucky’s neck that made him shiver, and you bit down—hard.

His whole body wracked with a shudder, nearly making you lose your hold and fall back to the bed. But you were too determined to stay close to him, so you clung on, feeling the shiver vibrate through your body, whimpering when it teased your aching nipples and your desperate, leaking cunt.

“Fucking christ—you need me that bad, huh?” Bucky huffed, his words accompanied by the sound of rending fabric and his zipper being ripped open. His fingers brushed your thighs and then the thick head of his cock was pressed to your weeping entrance. “Hope you’re ready for me, little one,” he growled, rubbing the tip of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing your hole.

A needy, pitiful sob burst from your lips as you tried to use what little leverage you had to lower yourself on Bucky’s cock, but his metal hand held you right where he wanted you, poised above his hard length. Another desperate whine spilled from you as tears of frustration splashed onto your cheeks.

“Bucky, ‘m so wet and empty, you could shove your whole fist inside me and I’d still beg for more,” you rasped against his neck, feeling his pulse pumping under your lips. “I missed you—god, I missed you so much, Bucky, I need you so bad.”

You barely knew what you were babbling, your head filled with hazy need. Your body felt like one big nerve ending that was throbbing to the beat of Bucky’s heart and begging to be filled.

Bucky made a rough, tortured sound low in his throat, something between a groan and a roar. It sank deep into your core and you felt even more wetness drip from your pussy onto his cock, coating him in your desire.

In the next breath, he yanked you down on his hard length, splitting you open so suddenly and so harshly, the immediate pleasure wrenched a scream from your lungs. The sound tore from your throat in a piercing wail, bouncing off the walls of your bedroom while Bucky gripped you so hard, you knew he’d leave bruises.

“That’s it, scream for me, little one,” Bucky rumbled, leaning forward and laying you down on the soft bed. The movement had his cock pressing so deep inside you, right to the end of you, that you felt like he was imprinting himself on your body.

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of your head, pulling his hips back and snapping forward, fucking you so hard and fast, all you could do was lay there and take it. You screamed and wailed until your throat was raw and your cheeks were damp with tears of pleasure.

“You think I didn’t miss you, too, little one?” he demanded, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside your body as it slammed into you. “You think my cock hasn’t been aching to sink into this tight cunt since the day I left?”

It felt so good, to have him everywhere—his body covering yours, his shirt teasing your aching nipples as he hunched over you on the bed, his damp forehead pressed to yours, his harsh breaths slipping between your lips, his hips cradled between your thighs, his cock buried to the root inside your pussy.

He pounded into you, punctuating his words with deep thrusts that sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body and making you nearly erupt in euphoria. You knew then that it wouldn’t be long before you came, and a part of you was devastated you’d come so quickly—even as you knew it wouldn’t be enough.

A whole night with Bucky, after he’d been gone for weeks, was never going to be enough.

“God, I missed this,” Bucky growled against your mouth. “I missed you—I missed you so fucking much, little one, I thought about you every moment I was gone.”

Bubbles of happiness burst in your chest to hear Bucky’s rough words of devotion. They swirled with the pleasure rising like a tide in the center of your being, leaving you to sob his name, chanting it like a prayer—like a plea, “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!”

“Fuck—fuck, I can feel how close you are,” he bit out, his thrusts turning wild and erratic as he chased his own pleasure in your body. “Come for me, little one, come all over my cock—show me how much you missed me, baby.”

Bucky shoved deep inside you, pausing to grind his hips into your cunt and rubbing your clit until the pleasure building inside you reached its crest. You tumbled over the edge with a sharp cry, every muscle in your body pulling taut for one breathless moment, spine arching off the bed and wrists fighting against Bucky’s unbreakable hold.

Stars popped and crackled behind your eyes as you screamed Bucky’s name, overwhelming pleasure crashing through you in waves that swept you away to another plane of existence, leaving behind the bed and the room—leaving only you and Bucky, who still moved over you, his throat working as he growled in your ear.

“Good girl, such a good girl, baby,” his deliciously deep voice rumbled, tethering you to reality. “Can feel your sweet cunt gripping me so good, sucking me deeper, begging for my come. D’you want it, little one, want my come?”

“Yuh huh, yuh huh,” you babbled, unable to form proper words, but it didn’t matter because Bucky understood your meaning.

His mouth captured yours in a searing kiss while he rutted into you, and a moment latter, he was groaning through his own release.

Bucky’s hips pressed flush against your center, his cock twitching deep in your cunt as he spilled his seed against your cervix, loud sounds of pleasure slipping from his lips. You drank them down greedily, just as hungry for his pleasure as he’d been for yours.

In the haze of his release, you managed to tug your wrists free from his hold and you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, fingers carding through his soft brown hair, your legs hugging his hips tightly while you felt him throbbing deep in your body.

As the overwhelming pleasure receded for both of you, the kiss shifted, slowing and becoming sweeter, more reverent. Your lips moved against each other adoringly, savoring the other and taking the time neither of you had been patient enough for earlier.

“In case it wasn’t clear,” you began, pulling back and kissing Bucky’s nose, then each of his cheeks and finally pressing a kiss between his brows, smoothing away the near-constant furrow. “I really missed you, Bucky.”

“Mm, I noticed,” Bucky rumbled, pressing his smile to your mouth before giving you a quick kiss. “I really missed you, too, baby,” he promised, his voice warm and satisfied even as he rolled his hips, wringing a soft gasp from your lips.

Laughing softly, he swallowed the sound with a kiss that devolved into long, languorous moments of making out. When Bucky finally pulled away to let you get some air, he propped himself up on his arms and glanced down at you with a hint of concern.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, his warm hand skimming down your side as if checking for injury. His hand slid between your bodies, easing his still half-hard cock from your pussy, his gaze watching your expression closely.

There was a little twinge of an ache, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he seemed to be expecting. Your lips curved in a naughty smile as you shook your head, holding his gaze. “I edged for a couple hours before you got home—put the dildo you got me to good use,” you explained.

You winked up at him, enjoying the way Bucky’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then lowered as his eyes darkened. Renewed hunger burned in his gaze, and he ducked down so his mouth was close to yours. Your breaths were coming a little faster, matching the harshness of his.

“No wonder you were desperate for me,” he murmured on a chuckle, before giving you a long, heated kiss. When his tongue licked into your mouth, you swore you could feel it between your thighs, your core heating with desire all over again.

“Y’know,” Bucky began when he pulled away, the corners of his mouth curving in an impish smirk. “You say the damndest things when you’re desperate.”

“Hmm?” you asked, burying your face beneath Bucky’s jaw and nuzzling into his stubbled skin. He smelled like leather and musk, and you breathed deeply, letting his comforting scent fill your head with fluffy clouds of bliss.

All memories of what you’d said in the heat of the moment got lost in those clouds, but Bucky was determined to remind you.

He shifted his big body out from between your thighs, quietly shushing the soft whine you let out by petting his warm palm over your belly and slipping it between your thighs. His fingers gently stroked the folds of your puffy pussy.

“You said something about me shoving my fist in your pussy,” Bucky said gruffly, gliding the tips of his fingers through your wetness. He gathered his come, which had been dripping down to your ass, and gently pressed it back into your hole with three fingers, while the other two teased your entrance. “What did ya mean by that, little one?”

“B-Bucky, oh m’god,” you stammered breathlessly, eyes flying open and finding Bucky’s darkened blue gaze fixed firmly on your face while he slowly, torturously withdrew his fingers and pushed them back inside as deep as they’d go. “You know what I meant,” you forced out, gasping when Bucky’s little finger slipped into your pussy to join the others.

Hovering above you, Bucky’s mouth was curved into a devious, delicious smirk, which only deepened when he took note of the delight and excitement dancing across your face. You were certain he could see the eagerness deep in your gaze, and it made his smile turn wolfish.

“You want my fist, little one?”

Bucky’s voice was sweet as he asked you one of the filthiest, most debauched questioned you’d ever heard him utter. His gentle tone contrasted with his obscene words and the slick sound of his fingers working your drenched pussy. You could feel yourself clench around him, your body greedily sucking him deeper.

A pleased grin stole across Bucky’s handsome face. “Since I’ve been gone, I’ve only had my fist to fuck,” he rumbled, thumb teasing the edge of your hole while he fucked you with four fingers. “Now that I’m home, you want that for yourself, huh?” His eyes flashed with something even dirtier and more perverted. “Should we see if I can fit both my fist and my cock inside you?”

Your hips jerked reflexively at Bucky’s question, pressing down on his fingers and taking them deeper, your inner walls pulsing with a desperation to be filled. Your answer tumbled past your lips with a reckless desire you only felt safe enough with Bucky to indulge.

“Yes—god, yes, Bucky, give it to me, please, gimme your fist and your cock. I want to be stuffed so full of you, I’ll feel you for days.”

“That’s my girl,” Bucky growled, beginning to push his thumb into your warm, dripping hole.

For a second, your mind whited out, but then your fingers were wrapping around his wrist and you were tugging him to a stop. He caught your gaze, a concerned frown on his lips. There was a question in his eyes as you shook your head.

“I want the other fist, Bucky—the metal one. Please,” you begged in a soft, pleading voice. You weren’t sure if he’d grant your request, but you held your breath, hoping.

Bucky looked stunned for a moment, his features slack with surprise. But then a grin was curving the edges of his mouth and his vibranium hand was wrapping around the back of your neck, hauling you up from the bed for a searing, soul-consuming kiss.

When he finally pulled away, leaving you breathless, he gave you only a moment to gasp for air before he was shoving his warm fingers, dripping with your desire, past your lips. Bucky ordered you to clean them, his gaze going inky dark as he watched.

Once you were done, drool coating your chin after he’d fucked your mouth with his fingers, Bucky stood and made quick work of removing his clothes—leaving his dress shirt, ruined pants and all the rest in a pile on the floor.

Before rejoining you in the bed, Bucky grabbed a bottle of lube from where you’d left it on the bedside table, and he settled between your thighs. Skimming his hands lovingly along your thighs, he shifted you into the position he wanted, your back flat on the bed, knees hiked up and spread wide, putting your pussy on display.

“God, I missed this,” he murmured distractedly, his black and gold metal fingers delicately tracing the puffy lips of your pussy. His eyes were fixed on your swollen folds, reverence etched into his expression.

Still, you couldn’t help but giggle, a little breathlessly. “You missed my pussy that bad, huh?” Your voice was husky from your earlier screaming, and it seemed to draw Bucky from the trance he’d fallen into.

A rakish smile pulled across his handsome face, making your heart flip in your chest. “No, baby, I missed being with you, I missed trying something new with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the earnestness in Bucky’s low rumble, and the intensity in his blue eyes. Emotion flooded your chest and you knew it was written all over your face by the way a fire lit within his gaze.

You reached for him, but he was already leaning down and pressing a kiss to your pouty mouth, slipping his tongue between your lips in a teasing lick.

He kissed you slowly, like you had all the time in the world, and didn’t move away until you were squirming and whimpering into his mouth with need. Then, Bucky sat back on his haunches between your thighs and popped the top on the bottle of lub.

Bucky was thorough as he coated his metal hand generously in lube—all while muttering to himself about how he hoped it didn’t fuck up the machinery because he didn’t want to explain this to the Wakandans. But you reminded him it was water-based lube and if he could swim, it would be fine.

That comment had earned you a raised eyebrow and a wry smirk, and you’d stifled a giggle behind your palms, excitement dancing in your eyes as you watched Bucky prepare himself.

When he decided he was ready, he asked you again if you were sure, and you nodded eagerly, telling him again you wanted this—you wanted him to fuck you with his metal fist.

It took longer than you would’ve expected for Bucky to work you open, especially since you’d thought you’d been close enough to taking his other fist earlier. But the unrelenting metal of Bucky’s hand, and his determination to make sure he didn’t hurt you meant it was a slow process.

Then, when he finally pushed the widest part of his hand inside your pussy, the rest slid in all at once, a sharp cry springing from your lips as you were suddenly so full. It was such a strange sensation, to have Bucky’s hand buried deep in your cunt, but, you realized with stunning clarity, it felt good.

Bucky had gone deathly still when you’d cried out, as if he hadn’t known how to interpret the sound, whether it was pain or pleasure. But when you relaxed, softening around his wrist and hand, he let out heavy exhale, like he’d been holding his breath.

“Are ya alright, little one?” Bucky asked softly, catching your knee in his warm hand and pressing a kiss to the inside.

Your thighs were quivering under the onslaught of pleasure rippling out from the center of your body, where you were impaled on Bucky’s fist, his knuckles pressing against your sensitive inner walls and hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You felt like your entire body was throbbing, and one move would make the pleasure detonate inside you.

“Uh hmm,” you murmured, nodding your head distractedly as you basked in the sensations flooding your body. Your arms and legs were trembling, the feeling of having something so large and unyielding inside you, stretching you, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. And you loved it.

Wiggling your hips experimentally, you felt Bucky’s metal fist shift infinitesimally inside you. His fingertips brushed against a spot that had you gasping, your body clenching down hard on his hand, before the sound devolved into an obscene, debauched moan.

Your eyes fluttered open with effort, and you sought Bucky, finding him partly hovering above you, watching your face like it was a wondrous thing. He was smiling down at you, his expression half fond, half feral.

“You’re so fucking filthy, little one—you’re taking my whole fist like such a filthy, perfect slut,” Bucky rumbled, shifting up the bed to capture your lips in a quick kiss.

The movement had him moving inside you, and you cried out, hips writhing as your body sough friction to add to the pleasure of being so full. Bucky swallowed the sound with a groan of his own, pulling his hand free before shoving it in again, a little rougher.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well for me, baby,” Bucky said in between kisses. Then he sat back and watched his hand disappear inside you over and over again. “You’re taking my fist so well, such a good fucking girl.”

“Bucky, please,” you cried, rolling your hips up off the bed to fuck yourself on his hand. You looked at him, desperation in your eyes, fingers clawing at the blankets of the bed. Your voice was raspy and raw as you begged, “I need more, please!”

The grin that pulled across Bucky’s face was so feral and hungry, it would’ve stolen the breath from your lungs if you had any to spare. He held your gaze while he fucked you with his fist—going slow at first, then increasing the speed of his hand plunging into your cunt until you were a crying, quivering mess.

And still, it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. All because Bucky wouldn’t touch your clit.

He wouldn’t let you go near it either, batting your hands away whenever your fingers fumbled for the aching bud. You would’ve sobbed your frustration, but the pleasure pounding through your body was too much to voice the words to beg him to make you come.

“Ready for more, little one?” Bucky asked when you were teetering on the edge of your release again, unable to tumble over without the stimulation to your clit.

There was a growing wet spot beneath your body, and your thighs were practically drenched in your desire. Near-constant tremors were shuddering through your body, leaving you helpless and shaking beneath Bucky’s bigger body. It wasn’t until Bucky repeated his question, that you even understood his words.

When you nodded, Bucky tutted. “Gonna need words, baby, d’you want more or d’you want to come like this, on my fist?”

Deep in your mind, you knew there was only one answer to give. Once Bucky had put it in your head that you could have his cock and his fist inside you—that you could be so full of him—it was the only thing you’d wanted. You wanted all of him.

He was finally home, after being gone for so long, and you wanted to be connected to him in every way possible. If it had been possible to physically fuse yourselves together more permanently, in that moment you would’ve begged for it.

Your answer to Bucky’s question was wrenched from your throat like a divine supplication. “More!”

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Bucky moved as quickly as he could, shifting onto his knees and getting into position between your thighs. Slowly, he worked his cock into your body alongside his hand, stretching you so much you felt a tiny twinge of pain, but it was quickly replaced by blinding pleasure.

The noises leaving your mouth were unintelligible, a babbling litany of Bucky’s name, moans of pleasure and sobs of “please, please, please,” even if you didn’t fully know what you were begging him for. It all mixed with the wet sounds of Bucky fucking you, pumping into your slick, swollen cunt while his fist remained buried deep.

“Oh fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” Bucky muttered somewhere above you.

It was the only warning before the thumb of his warm hand found your clit and he rubbed it, hard and fast. The second he touched your aching bud, you knew you were done for. There was nothing stopping you from tumbling off the ledge and falling into endless pleasure.

Your release burned through you like a streak of lightning, pleasure so blinding it blurred the edge of pain, filling your body and mind with so much sensation, you hung suspended in time. For a long moment, all you could do was feel—the zinging pleasure of your release, and the place where you and Bucky were connected.

Then you crashed back into your body, and sucked in a breath. Blackness receded from the edges of your vision and you caught sight of Bucky just in time to watch him succumb to his own pleasure, his jaw gritting with a groan as his cock throbbed inside you.

Your pussy was still pulsing, greedily sucking Bucky’s come deeper into your body, when he slipped his softening cock from your hole. He was even more gentle as he eased his hand from your pussy than he’d been when he’d worked it inside you.

After he finally pulled free, you huffed a little sigh of relief and, at Bucky’s murmured encouragement, gave in to the exhaustion weighing you down.

You remembered flashes of Bucky cleaning you up, tucking you into an armchair while he changed the sheets, putting his arm in the dishwasher before padding back to bed and slipping beneath the blankets. You remembered him tucking you in against his chest, his body finally settling in with yours.

Then, there was nothing but blissful, restful sleep…

“Can’t believe you feel so tight after taking my fist and my cock last night, little one,” Bucky growled as he fucked up into you while you lay across his chest, your aching nipples rubbing teasingly against the hair dusted across his pecs.

With just one arm, Bucky had you pinned to his body, your face buried in the scruff of his jaw while he bounced you on his cock and you mewled pitiful sounds of helpless pleasure. It was too much, too good, stealing the words “please” and “more” from your lips.

“Can’t believe you still wanted me to fuck this puffy pussy after all I gave you last night—such a greedy, insatiable girl,” Bucky rumbled, his tone drenched in delicious teasing that had your cunt squeezing around his cock.

You were overwhelmed by the feeling of Bucky pounding into your thoroughly used hole, the ache of soreness in your core only making the pleasure feel all the more exquisite. You wanted all of it, the pleasure and the pain. You wanted it all as a reminder of Bucky when he was gone for who knew how long.

Bucky seemed to sense your desperation and need, and he tightened his arm around your lower back, anchoring you to his body while he slowed down his pace. His strokes turned long and deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every upward thrust of his hips, making you clench tight around him and moan in his ear.

“Ya like that, little one? Ya like feeling my cock deep in your cunt—where my fist was last night?” he murmured teasingly, his mouth dragging over the apple of your cheek. It wasn’t quite a kiss, since you could feel the self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Yesss,” you answered on another moan, your hands diving into Bucky’s hair at the back of his head and clinging to him. Your thighs were shaking, your body boneless with exhaustion as you lay across his chest, all you could focus on was staying on top of him while he bounced you on his cock.

Bucky’s heavy arm was braced around your lower back like an immovable force, ensuring you couldn’t move even if you’d had the energy to.

All you could do was lay there and take him, your tits crushed to his chest, your body pressed into the layer of softness padding his hard muscles. So much of your warm skin was touching his and it drove you wild.

“Want more, Bucky—want you to fuck me so hard, I’ll be feeling you for days,” you whispered, soft, pleading cries rising in your throat and slipping from your lips. “Can’t get enough of you, can never get enough.”

“Fuck—that’s my girl,” Bucky rumbled, so much warmth in his voice you swore you could feel it. Then he picked up his pace again, fucking you hard and fast.

It was exactly what you needed. Lifting your head, you let him see the pleasure contort your face, your eyes screwing shut and your mouth dropping open as sounds of pleasure spilled from you unbidden.

He was driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you had no doubt he could feel your puffy pussy fluttering around his cock, your moans and mewls becoming more desperate.

“Come for me, little one,” Bucky growled, capturing your mouth so he could kiss you breathless. “Want to remember the feeling of you coming on my cock while I’m gone—want to dream about coming home to you.”

His hand slid to your lower back and he pushed your hips down so your legs spread wider, allowing his cock to sink even deeper into your pussy. You could feel him everywhere, from where he throbbed inside you to where your lips brushed as you both gasped for air.

You whined into Bucky’s mouth, your fingers clinging to the edges of his jaw, while he rocked your hips together. The base of his cock was grinding against your puffy clit, sending zinging sparks and delicious tingles through your entire body.

“Oh god, Bucky,” you cried, his movements pushing you over the edge. Your body pulled taut for one breathless moment, like it was holding all the pleasure inside, and then all you felt was an explosion of euphoric sensation.

A long, loud moan fell from your lips, and Bucky’s hand skimmed up your spine to wrap around the back of your neck, holding your mouth against his while he drowned in the sounds of your pleasure.

Moments later, he grunted, his cock twitching inside you as he came right after you. He buried himself to the root, spilling his seed deep in your cunt, some of it leaking out around his shaft and making a mess of your thighs.

Your bodies writhed together, basking in the pleasure for long, luxurious moments. The desperate, needy kisses of your releases turned sweet and playful, taking on a sleepy edge.

Exhaustion was tugging at the corners of your mind again, urging you to slip back into the comfortable embrace of sleep, but you fought it. You didn’t want Bucky to leave while you were asleep. You wanted to be with him until the last possible second before he had to leave.

“My sweet, greedy, insatiable girl,” Bucky rumbled when your mouths broke apart, a smile in his voice. But you pouted about the end of the kiss, and nipped at his lower lip, dragging him in for another.

It was a long while before you allowed Bucky to extricate himself from you—long enough that you both knew he was going to be late, but neither of you mentioned it.

Before he got up, Bucky rolled you onto your back and hovered above you, staring down at you like he was committing the sight to memory. The sheets were tangled around your body, and you were mussed from sleep and sex, but he looked at you like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and your heart warmed in your chest.

Bucky ducked his head for one last kiss, murmuring, “Rest, little one,” before he stood from the bed and trudged to the bathroom.

You turned your face into his pillow and muffled a sigh of disappointment. You knew he had to leave, you’d just hoped he’d get a couple days off after being gone on such a long trip to Brooklyn.

Without Bucky beside you, you fell into a light sleep, lulled by the sound of the shower running and the muffled noises of him getting dressed. It was only when he left the bedroom and headed into the kitchen that you roused, a frown marring your face with the knowledge he’d be leaving soon.

Wrapping the sheet around your body, you dragged yourself out of bed, wincing slightly at the sting between your thighs. You knew you’d have to take it easy for the rest of the day, but it was worth it to have a reminder of Bucky nestled deep in your body, especially as his come dripped down your thighs.

You took a moment to clean up a little in the bathroom, then padded out to the kitchen. You paused, watching Bucky pull his vibranium arm from the dishwasher, a naughty smirk tugging at your lips as memories of the night before flitted across your mind again.

“You should be in bed, little one,” Bucky grumbled, fitting his arm into the socket and snapping it into place. A grimace passed over his features, and your feet were moving before you even knew what you were doing.

Moving around the kitchen island, you pressed yourself against Bucky’s back, brushing butterfly kisses to his skin between the edge of his undershirt and the socket for his arm. Your hands looped around his front, fingers digging lightly into the softness around his waist that you loved so much.

“How long will you be gone this time?” you asked in between kisses, ignoring his complaint about you getting out of bed.

Bucky braced his hands against the edge of the counter, letting out a sigh. You could feel his body relaxing, tension draining from his muscles the more you kissed his bare skin. So you kept it up, brushing your lips against the back of his neck beneath his slicked-back hair.

“Just a few days,” he muttered. His warm hand moved from the counter, laying over yours on his stomach and squeezing lightly. “I don’t like being gone so much.”

“I don’t like it either,” you whispered into his shoulder blade. “Even if the sex when you get back is phenomenal,” you added, trying to lighten the mood.

A chuckle rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it sounded forced and you hugged him tighter.

“How about you take some vacation time after this trip,” you suggested in between more kisses to his shoulder. “We don’t have to go anywhere, we can just stay in bed the whole time.”

“If that’s what it takes to make sure you get the rest you need,” Bucky began, turning in your hold and wrapping his arms around your waist, hauling you against his chest. “Then it’s a plan.”

There was a ghost of a smirk on his face and you leaned in to kiss the corner of it. You felt his mouth curve deeper against your lips, which was your only warning before, in the next moment, he stooped down and grabbed you around your waist, tossing you over his shoulder.

You screeched in surprise and kicked your legs until Bucky’s metal arm banded around the backs of your thighs, pinning you to him—bedsheet and all—while he carried you back to the bedroom. There, he tossed you down on the bed and pointed a finger at you.

“Stay, and rest, little one,” he commanded sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine,” you pouted as you sat up, letting the sheet fall open and giving Bucky an eyeful of your naked body. You crossed your arms under your tits, pushing them up for good measure. “But when you get home, you’re burying your cock in me and not moving until I say so.”

Bucky shook his head a little exasperatedly, but there was an affectionate smile on his face when he bent down and grabbed your chin tight. He gave you one last kiss. “Greedy, insatiable girl,” he growled against your lips.

“Your greedy, insatiable girl,” you shot back with a sweet smile. “And it’s not my fault I can’t get enough of you, you’re just so wonderful.”

The teasing in your tone made Bucky chuckle and he pressed one final kiss to your lips before pulling away. You watched him walk out of the room with a sad smile on your face, holding tight to the lingering feeling of him between your thighs to get you through the next few days while he was gone.

True to his word, Bucky Barnes returned home a few days later, his congressional office well aware he was taking a two-week vacation, during which he was not to be interrupted.

In those two weeks, you spent all your time together. Some of it was spent resting in bed or on the couch, some of it was spent going out for food, or cooking in the kitchen together.

But most of Bucky’s time off was spent with his cock—or his fingers, or his fist—buried deep inside your body. You both craved being connected as much as possible, and with nowhere to go, there was no reason not to indulge yourselves.

You couldn’t get enough of each other, and for once, you didn’t have to worry. You could just enjoy it. You could just enjoy everything about being with Bucky Barnes. So that’s what you did.

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spiderwebbedhearts · 16 days ago

Text

I love this 💙💙💙

Hold Your Breath

pairing | civil!war!bucky x fem!reader

word count | 6.6k words (whoopsie)

summary I After a panic attack triggers something raw and vulnerable in Bucky, a desperate kiss turns into a night of urgent, clothed intimacy where he clings to you for grounding, connection, and humanity.

tags | 18+, (MDNI!), p in v sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, emotional sex, desperate sex, riding, dry humping, titty sucking, begging, subby!bucky, soft!reader, angst, soft dom!reader, vulnerable!bucky, slow burn to sudden burn, hurt/comfort, PANIC ATTACK! platonic!steve x reader, oh and PLOT! but premises: Fuck His Pain Away

a/n | THIS MIGHT BE THE FILTHIEST THING IVE EVER WRITTEN. uh, Matt Murdock cameo. and Steve and reader lowkey act romantic but they're purely platonic. inspired by THE Stiles and Lydia. ENJOY!

likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated ✨✨

The warehouse looked like it had been forgotten by time. Rust flaked off corrugated walls, the windows long since caked in grime and dust. Faint light filtered in through the cracks in the ceiling, catching on floating particles like a snowstorm of ash.

You stepped through the open door slowly, your heeled boots echoing softly against the concrete floor. The weight of silence sat thick in the air—one broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional creak of aging steel. Sam stood off to the side, posted up by a boarded window, his eyes scanning the outside world like a hawk. Ironic.

He gave you a short nod in greeting, then jerked his chin toward the stairwell.

“He’s upstairs. With him.”

You nodded silently, then started climbing. Each step was slow, heavy with things unsaid. You reached the upper landing and paused at the threshold of a dim corridor, where you finally saw him.

Steve Rogers.

He was leaning against the doorframe to a room that looked like it had once been an office, now stripped bare. His arms were folded, his head slightly bowed, lost in thought. The sharp angles of his jaw were drawn tight, his eyes shadowed with more than fatigue.

He looked tired—drawn in a way you rarely saw. Shoulders too tight. Worry clinging to him like a second skin.

And yet the moment he looked up and saw you, something in his face unspooled.

“You came,” he said, voice low, thick.

You smiled softly, stepping closer. “Where else would I be?”

Steve gave a dry little exhale. “I don’t know. Somewhere safe. Somewhere warm.”

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” you said.

He nodded once, but didn’t move from the door. The weight of the air between you stretched.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

You straightened, gaze steady. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. You don’t have to ask.”

“I do.” His jaw flexed, eyes flicking away. “Because I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. We’re stretched thin. And Bucky… he’s not in a good place.”

“I know,” you said, voice gentler now. “Steve, I know. I’m not scared of him.”

He let out a breath and dragged a hand down his face, tension radiating from every inch of him. “I’m not either. That’s not it. It’s just—he’s been through so much. He barely speaks. Sometimes I think he’s back—my Bucky—but then I see that look in his eyes and I don’t even know who I’m looking at.”

You took a step forward, heart aching.

“You’re worried he’ll hurt someone.”

Steve didn’t answer right away. His mouth pressed into a tight line.

Then, almost too softly: “I’m worried he’ll hurt himself.”

That cracked something inside you. You reached out, fingers curling gently around his arm.

“Then I’ll be here,” you said, firm and calm. “I’ll sit with him through it. However long it takes.”

Steve looked at you, truly looked, and you could see it then—how much weight he was carrying. And how close he was to shattering under it.

“There’s more,” he said after a moment, voice even lower.

You nodded. “Tell me.”

He hesitated, like he didn’t know if he should. Then—quietly, brokenly—he said, “I don’t know what’s happening to us. The Avengers. The world. It used to feel like we were fighting for something good. Something that meant something. Now… it just feels like we’re tearing apart.”

You let his words hang in the air. Let him breathe. Then you stepped closer.

“It’s going to be okay,” you whispered.

But Steve shook his head. Slowly. Distantly.

“I don’t think it will be.”

There was something so human about him in that moment. Not the Captain. Not the soldier. Just a man who’d lived too long, lost too much, and still hadn’t learned how to stop hoping—even when it hurt.

He looked at you—really looked at you. The intensity in his eyes bordered on overwhelming. But what you saw there wasn’t fear. It was trust. Worn, heavy, aching trust.

“You can back out at any point,” he said, voice rough. “If it’s too much. If he—”

“I’m here,” you interrupted softly, a small smile blooming. “And I’m here to stay.”

Steve stared at you for a moment longer, then—without warning—you stepped in and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He folded into you immediately, arms winding tightly around your waist like the weight of the world was something he could put down, just for a second, if he held onto you.

His breath was warm against your hair.

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice frayed at the edges. “For being here. For me.”

Your fingers curled at his nape, anchoring him. “Always.”

When he finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your waist. The kind of touch that said, I can’t ask for more, but I’d be lost without this.

You gave his hand a final squeeze, then watched as he turned and opened the door to where Bucky waited.

The door clicked shut behind Steve with a soft finality.

Bucky sat on the edge of the mattress, shoulders hunched forward, elbows on his knees. His hair was damp from where he’d splashed water on his face earlier. There was still blood crusted in his hairline from the fight in Bucharest. He hadn’t spoken in hours—not really. Just a grunt here and there when Steve checked on him.

The room was dark and cold, lit only by a single bulb hanging overhead, flickering just enough to be annoying. Dust danced in the light. The walls were bare. There was a thin mattress pushed into the corner and not much else.

He could hear someone talking outside. A familiar voice. And a softer one.

Then footsteps. Boots against concrete.

He didn’t look up when Steve entered.

Steve took a breath and crossed the floor slowly. He didn’t say anything at first, didn’t try to force conversation.

He just sat, giving Bucky space to choose.

"You holding up?" Steve finally asked.

Bucky shrugged. His metal fingers flexed slightly. “Still breathing.”

It took another minute before Bucky spoke again, voice hoarse, low.

“You’re leaving.”

Steve nodded. “Not for long.”

Bucky lifted his head, the shadows under his eyes deeper than ever. “Where?”

“Sam and I need to pull some others in. It’s moving fast.” Steve leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But I’m not leaving you alone.”

Bucky’s mouth tightened slightly. “You’re not?”

“No.” Steve gave him a look. “She’s staying.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “The woman outside.”

Steve smiled faintly. “Yeah.”

Bucky paused, then asked—carefully, cautiously—“That your girl?”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, looking down at the floor. “No. God, no. She’s… she’s just a friend.”

“Doesn’t sound like ‘just a friend,’” Bucky muttered.

“She’s just my friend,” Steve said again.

Bucky studied him for a long moment, the gears clearly turning behind his tired eyes. “You trust her.”

“With my life.”

“And you’re leaving her with me.” That wasn’t a question. That was Bucky quietly testing the weight of what Steve was asking.

“I’m not leaving her with you like she’s a babysitter,” Steve said, voice firm but warm. “She offered. Because she cares. Because she’s kind. And because she’s not afraid of you.”

Bucky’s head dropped slightly. “That’s a mistake.”

“No,” Steve said firmly. “It’s not. You’re not the man Hydra turned you into.”

“You sure?”

Steve stood slowly, walking over to the window, eyes scanning the alleyway below. “Yes and she’ll be here when you need her. Whether you like it or not.”

Bucky grunted. “Sounds annoying.”

Steve chuckled. “You’ll get used to her.”

He moved to the door but paused with his hand on the knob. “Bucky?”

He looked up.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve said again, softer this time. “But I do care about her. She’ll look after you. Let her.”

Bucky stayed quiet for a long moment, watching his friend’s back. The silence stretched.

Then, quietly, “She got a name?”

Steve turned back to him with a small, knowing smile. “Ask her yourself.”

Silence stretched. The tension in Bucky’s shoulders didn’t ease, but something in his eyes flickered. Not quite trust. But maybe curiosity.

────────────────────────

Outside, you were waiting patiently, arms folded, gaze flicking down the hallway as he approached. You gave him a questioning look.

“How’d it go?”

“He asked if you were my girl.”

You blinked, then laughed softly. “That’s a first.”

“I told him no. Just a loyal, stubborn friend.”

You nudged his arm. “Stubborn’s a little rude.”

“I meant it as a compliment.”

He gave you a final, grateful look—the kind that carried years of friendship in one glance—then disappeared down the stairwell, leaving you standing in the dim hallway outside Bucky’s room.

You inhaled slowly, squared your shoulders, and turned toward the door.

The door creaked softly as you stepped inside.

The air inside was still—almost unnaturally so. Dim light filtered through the cracked blinds, casting lines of gold across the worn floorboards. The mattress sat low to the ground, old and bare, and on it sat a man who looked more like a memory than a presence.

Bucky didn’t look up right away.

He was perched on the edge of the mattress like he didn’t know what to do with his body. Shoulders squared. Hands resting on his knees. The metal one glinting faintly under the weak light. He didn’t move as you entered, didn’t speak—just turned and looked at you as if you might explode if he blinked.

His face was as unreadable as you'd expected. Blank. Cold. Not hostile, just... emptied out.

Still, you offered him the softest smile you could manage.

“Hi,” you said softly, introducing yourself.

No reaction. Not even a flinch.

You took a step forward, slow and steady, keeping your voice warm. “Steve asked me to check in on you.”

Still nothing. But he hadn’t asked you to leave either

“I’m not here to watch you,” you spoke, stepping forward slowly, palms open, posture relaxed. “Not like that. I’m just here if you need anything.”

Silence.

But his eyes followed you, blue and unreadable.

“I’m not an agent or anything,” you added. “But I figured a quiet face wouldn’t hurt.”

His gaze dropped back to the floor.

Your eyes drifted to the gash above his eyebrow again. The skin around it looked irritated. Dry blood had trailed down his temple, now flaked and cracking.

“You’re bleeding,” you murmured. “Your forehead.”

He blinked once. No acknowledgment. Just the same blank stare.

You nodded slightly to yourself, then crossed to the nearby table where Steve had left a bottle of water, some basic medical supplies. You grabbed a cloth and dampened it gently.

When you returned, you paused beside him.

“Can I…?” you asked gently, holding up the cloth just slightly. “Take care of that?”

There was a long pause. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes—suspicion, uncertainty, maybe even something like confusion.

Then he gave a small, stiff nod.

You didn’t sit on the mattress beside him. That felt too close. Instead, you knelt down on the floor, leveling yourself just enough to reach him, and held the cloth delicately in your fingers.

“Okay,” you said, mostly to fill the silence. “This might be a little cold.”

You dabbed gently at the gash on his forehead, careful not to apply too much pressure. The dried blood flaked away slowly under your touch. You worked in silence, the only sound the soft rustle of the cloth against his skin and the hush of your own breath.

Bucky didn’t flinch.

But he watched you.

Close. Unblinking.

Like he was trying to find the trick in your movements. Waiting for the shift—when the care would curdle into expectation. Or interrogation. Or pity.

But you just kept working, your touch steady, your face calm.

After a long moment, he finally spoke—voice low and rough, like unused gravel.

“You an Avenger?”

It caught you a little off guard, but you smiled faintly, not stopping your work.

“Not at all,” you said. “Maybe honorary. I just help Steve out. Here and there.”

You wiped the last of the blood from his temple, then lowered the cloth.

“But mostly,” you added with a small shrug, “I stick to New York.”

He was still staring at you. His brow twitched slightly. “Doing what?”

You chuckled, folding the cloth neatly in your lap. “I’m a lawyer.”

The expression on his face shifted for the first time—just a flicker, but there. His eyes narrowed slightly. Disbelieving, “A lawyer?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

His look said it before his lips did.

What the hell are you doing here?

You didn’t need him to ask.

You met his gaze—steady, warm, sure.

“A lawyer that knows right from wrong,” you said simply.

The room fell quiet again.

He stared at you like he was trying to see the catch—trying to spot where the kindness ended and the judgment began.

It didn’t come.

“I’m just here to help,” you said, barely above a whisper.

You stayed kneeling for a few more moments, wringing the bloodied cloth between your fingers, giving him space even while sitting right in front of him.

Bucky still hadn’t moved.

He just watched you. Not with suspicion exactly—more like quiet observation, like he was still figuring out what you were.

You gave him a moment, then sat back on your heels and rested your arms on your knees.

“So,” you started gently, as if you were just catching up with someone over coffee, “Steve said you were from Brooklyn.”

His eyes didn’t move.

You waited a beat. Nothing.

“I’m from Hell’s Kitchen,” you added, offering a half-smile.

Still nothing. But something in his eyes flickered. Just barely.

“Grew up around a lot of noise,” you went on, your voice soft but casual. “Corner bodegas. Fire escapes. People yelling out their windows at four in the morning.”

Another pause. You risked glancing at him again.

Still no words. But his gaze lingered now. Slightly more engaged.

“I used to go up on the roof with a book and just... tune it all out,” you said, smiling faintly at the memory. “Never worked. Some jackass was always blasting Sinatra or arguing about Mets scores.”

You caught a flicker at that—almost a breath of amusement in his expression. Almost.

“Guess Brooklyn wasn’t so different back then, huh?”

Still silence.

But now, he was looking at you—not through you.

You shrugged, eyes gentle. “Anyway. Just figured I’d try to talk. Doesn’t have to mean anything.”

His eyes finally dropped to the floor again, but his shoulders had eased. A fraction.

You added, “And if it helps at all… I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

That got you a flicker of eye contact again.

You smiled, soft and unbothered. “And you, from the looks of it, don’t talk unless you absolutely have to. So, we make a solid pair.”

No reaction.

You let out a small sigh.

The room had settled into a quiet sort of calm by late evening.

Bucky hadn’t spoken much—if at all—but he hadn’t pulled away when you refilled his water or dropped off a spare blanket either. A win in your book.

You hadn’t meant to take the call in front of him.

But you also couldn’t afford to ignore it—not when Matt Murdock’s name lit up your screen with its usual stubborn persistence.

You shifted where you sat on the edge of the room’s lone table, pressing the phone to your ear while still keeping Bucky in the corner of your eye. He sat on the mattress, back against the wall, arms folded stiffly over his chest. Watching. Always watching.

“Good evening,” you greeted softly, careful to keep your voice low.

There was a pause. Then, sharp and unmistakably annoyed, “Where the hell are you?”

You smiled. “Hi to you too, Matty.”

“I came by your loft, you weren't there.”

“No, because I’m in Germany.”

There was a long pause.

“…Germany?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize international borders exist, right? And that we’re not technically allowed to cross them at will?”

“You do realize you’re blind and still have better spatial awareness than the TSA, right?”

“You were just in New York yesterday,” he said, exasperated. “You can’t keep dropping everything the second Steve Rogers snaps his fingers.”

You rolled your eyes. “Wow. Jealousy and judgment in one breath. Impressive.”

“I’m not jealous,” he bit out. “I’m concerned. You didn’t even tell anyone you were leaving the country.”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I didn’t plan to. Things moved fast. It’s not like I’m on vacation, Matt.”

“You think I don’t know what fast looks like?” he shot back. “This is the kind of fast that gets people killed. You’re not a soldier. You’re not—”

“I’m not you,” you snapped, before immediately softening your tone. “I’m not you, Matt. But you don’t get to lecture me about dropping everything for a ghost from your past when you've barely been present since yours came back.”

The line went still.

You exhaled. “I’m not trying to fight with you.”

“I know,” he said finally, voice quieter now. “I just… I worry. You matter to people, you know?”

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promised. “Just keeping someone safe until Steve gets back.”

There was a beat.

“…Is that someone dangerous?”

You glanced across the room. Bucky’s eyes were still on you, narrowed faintly in curiosity.

“No,” you said. “Not to me.”

Matt didn’t sound convinced. “Call me when you land.”

“I will.”

You ended the call with a gentle sigh, letting your head rest back against the wall.

Across the room, Bucky was watching you.

Not glaring. Not tense. Just watching—with that unreadable look he wore like armor.

You raised the phone slightly. “Work colleague.“

His brow lifted, slightly skeptical.

You tilted your head. “Okay, close work colleague.”

He didn’t respond. But you swore you caught the briefest twitch at the corner of his mouth—something almost like amusement.

You didn’t press.

You just leaned your head back and closed your eyes.

And that’s when you heard it.

Footsteps.

A faint but steady rhythm outside, boots against gravel, echoing just enough through the warehouse walls to mimic something far more sinister.

The blood drained from Bucky’s face in an instant.

His body snapped upright, rigid. His eyes locked on the door.

And his breathing changed.

Subtle at first. A slight hitch. A break in rhythm. The kind of thing you’d miss if you weren’t paying attention.

And you weren’t.

You were halfway to the window already, your phone still in hand, distracted by the soft scrape of boots on gravel outside. You weren’t even looking at him when you said, “I’ll be right back. Just want to check it out.”

You moved with ease, brushing aside the edge of the tarp covering the glass. From where you stood, you caught a glimpse—just a guy with a backpack, head down, walking briskly down the alley. Civilian. No uniform. No earpiece.

Harmless.

You turned back toward the room, already ready to reassure—

And stopped cold.

Bucky hadn’t moved from the bed.

But everything about him had changed.

He was still seated, but his hands were clenched into fists, white-knuckled. His shoulders were drawn in tight, and his head was tipped down, jaw locked, chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid bursts.

“Bucky?”

His eyes snapped up.

Wide. Unfocused. Wild.

Your heart dropped.

You took a step closer. “Hey. You’re okay, it was just someone walking past. No one’s coming.”

But he didn’t hear you. Not really.

His breath hitched again, sharper this time. A low sound escaped his throat—almost a growl, almost a sob—and his metal hand twitched violently on his knee.

“I can’t—” he choked, fingers clawing at the edge of the mattress. “I can’t—breathe—”

You froze for half a second, then rushed forward, dropping into a crouch in front of him, palms out, voice gentle but firm.

“Okay. Okay, Bucky. You’re having a panic attack. I know it feels like you can’t breathe, but you are. I promise, you are. You need to try to slow it down, or your body’s going to lock up on you.”

His chest was rising in harsh, ragged gasps now, every breath shallow and frantic. His eyes were darting around the room like he was trapped, like every wall was closing in.

You hovered your hands near his knees, not touching, just there. “I’m not gonna grab you. You’re safe. You’re in control. You’re not back there.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, body trembling. “I can’t—I can’t get out—I can’t—”

“Hey. Hey.” Your voice broke on the word. “You’re not trapped. I’m right here. You’re with me, remember?”

No response.

His breathing was worsening. He wasn’t inhaling fully anymore. Just choking down gulps of air like they weren’t sticking. His fingers curled against the mattress, his body rocking slightly.

He’s going to pass out.

You forced yourself to stay calm, to keep your voice steady even as panic rose in your own chest.

“Okay. Listen to me. We’re going to ground, alright? Just do what you can.” You reached up, hovering your fingers closer to his arm. “Five things you can see. Look around, just five.”

He blinked rapidly, lips parted, shaking.

“Five things,” you repeated. “Just name them. Anything.”

“I—I can’t,” he rasped. “I can’t—I can’t see—fuck—”

Your gut twisted.

“Alright. It’s okay, it’s okay,” you whispered, watching his eyes roll slightly upward as if his mind was spinning off. “Bucky, please. Just hold onto something.”

But he couldn’t.

You could see the fight in him, but the grip of the attack had its claws in deep now, dragging him down. His hand jerked, metal fingers spasming like his nerves were short-circuiting.

He was slipping.

You didn’t think. You didn’t plan.

You just acted.

You surged forward and crushed your mouth to his.

Your hand cupped his jaw, thumb grazing the scruff of his cheek, your lips moving against his like your breath could anchor him, like your body could pull him back from wherever his mind had gone.

At first, he didn’t move.

His breath hitched hard in your mouth, his body rigid.

And then—

He breathed.

Not perfect. Not deep.

But something shifted.

The tension in his shoulders dipped slightly. His mouth softened just enough under yours. The rigid rock of his spine eased.

You pulled back after a beat, gasping softly, shocked at yourself, still close enough to feel the heat of his breath on your lips.

His eyes snapped open.

Blue. Wide. Raw.

You blinked, stammering. “I—I didn’t know what else to do. I read once—somewhere—that when you’re panicking, holding your breath can reset your lungs, and so—” You swallowed. “So, when I kissed you… you held your breath.”

His lips parted, still trembling.

Your hand was still lightly on his jaw. You started to pull it away, “I’m sorry—”

But then his hand—his metal hand—caught your wrist.

Gently.

He stared at you, breathing hard, but steadier now. Something wild still flickered behind his eyes—but it wasn’t panic anymore.

It was something else.

Something desperate.

Your breath caught somewhere in your throat.

Bucky’s hand—cold metal and trembling restraint—was still wrapped around your wrist, keeping your hand pressed to his jaw. His skin beneath your palm was warm, rough with stubble, tense with something unreadable.

You should’ve tried to pull away again.

You should’ve said something. But you couldn’t speak.

Not with the way he was looking at you. Like you weren’t real. Like he’d dreamed you up in some quiet corner of his broken mind and was terrified you might disappear if he blinked too long.

Your heart pounded against your ribs. Your mind raced, caught between guilt and instinct.

“I—I shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, barely able to hear your own voice. “I just didn’t know what else—”

And then you felt it.

His other hand.

You hadn’t even noticed it moving. But now, his warm, flesh hand was at the back of your head, fingers tangling through your hair, firm and certain.

You barely had time to breathe before he pulled you in.

The kiss came fast.

No hesitation. No apology.

It collided with your mouth like a dam breaking—like a gasp swallowed between parted lips and bruised hearts. His hand on your wrist still held you in place, while the other tilted your head just enough to claim every inch of your mouth.

You made a startled sound—something between a breath and a gasp—and your hands moved instinctively finding his shoulders as you fell forward into his chest.

Your body hit his with more force than you meant, but he didn’t flinch. If anything, he pulled you closer, like your weight grounded him.

His kiss deepened.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was hungry.

Like he needed this more than air. Like the feel of your mouth, the press of your body, was the only thing holding him in the present. His lips moved against yours with bruising pressure, desperate and hot, tongue flicking past your parted lips like he couldn’t stand not to taste you again.

And you melted.

Every thought, every question, every ounce of guilt evaporated the second his tongue touched yours.

Your fingers tightened on his shoulders. Your knees threatened to give out. His breath was ragged in your mouth, nose brushing yours, body trembling with barely leashed tension.

This wasn’t just comfort.

This was need.

Pure and primal.

His hands were on you now—both of them. The right still cradled the back of your head, fingers buried in your hair, holding you close. But the left… the left had found your waist, sliding up beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips brushing along your side like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch but couldn’t help himself.

You felt the chill of metal and the heat of human skin, trembling and unsure.

He kissed you harder. Mouth moving against yours with clumsy, desperate hunger—no rhythm, no restraint. He wasn’t kissing to seduce.

He was kissing to feel.

When his lips broke from yours, they didn’t go far. They dropped to your jaw, then your throat, his breath hot and uneven as he murmured something unintelligible against your skin.

His tongue dragged along the side of your neck, followed by soft, open-mouthed kisses—rushed, messy, too fast. Like he didn’t know where to start. Like he wanted to taste every inch of you at once.

“God…” he breathed, mouth moving to your collarbone. “You’re so soft…”

His hands moved again, a little braver now—palming your waist, then your back, then your hips. He tugged at your shirt, his fingers grazing over the fabric like it was in his way, like he needed to touch more.

And that’s when your thoughts finally broke through the haze.

You gasped, blinking hard, fingers coming up to press gently against his chest.

“Bucky,” you said, breathless. “We should stop.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t pull back.

His lips paused just below your ear, trembling.

“This isn’t good for you,” you whispered. “You’re in a bad headspace, and I don’t want to take advantage—”

He pulled back enough to look at you, his eyes wide and pleading, voice cracking.

“Please,” he whispered.

Your heart shattered.

“Bucky—”

“Please,” he said again, more desperate now. “I—I need to feel you. I need to know I’m still here. That I’m not… that I’m not him.”

Your hands trembled where they rested on his chest.

His voice broke entirely. “Just… just let me touch you. Let me feel something that isn’t pain. Please…”

You stared at him for a long moment, his words still ringing in your ears, his hands trembling against your waist.

Let me feel something that isn’t pain.

The breath left your chest in a slow, trembling sigh.

And then you leaned in.

Your lips met his again—not rough this time, but slow, deep, deliberate. A promise.

Bucky responded like he’d been holding his breath.

His hands flew to your sides, tugging you closer until your knees straddled his thighs, until your chest was flush with his. He let out a broken, needy sound as you kissed him, fingers dragging up your spine, gripping, clutching, like he was terrified you’d vanish if he let go.

You pulled back just long enough to whisper against his lips, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He moaned at that—actually moaned—his mouth crashing into yours again as his hands started moving, frantic and restless, skimming beneath your shirt, tugging at the fabric like it was an obstacle, not clothing.

Your fingers slid up into his hair, holding his face between your palms like he was something fragile. You kissed him deeper, letting him pour himself into it, letting him need you. And all the while, you rocked slowly in his lap, hips rolling in a subtle, steady rhythm that made both of you gasp.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered against your mouth. “You feel so good… I can’t—can’t get close enough.”

He pulled harder at your shirt, his hands shaking with how desperately he wanted more of you. You broke the kiss just long enough to fumble with the buttons, undoing only a few before he lost patience entirely.

His hands flew up to your chest, and in one frantic motion, he tugged your bra down beneath your breasts.

“Bucky—”

But then his mouth was on you, and the words dissolved.

He latched onto your breast with a groan so guttural it vibrated through your core. His tongue swirled around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth like he was starved for it—like this was the only thing tethering him to earth.

You gasped, eyes flying wide, one hand clinging to his shoulder as your hips jerked against him.

“Oh my—Bucky—”

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

His metal hand clutched your back, holding you in place as he lavished your breast with open-mouthed kisses, warm and wet and messy. His other hand palmed your waist, guiding your hips in time with his own.

You rutted against him harder now, both of you still fully clothed, the friction unbearable and perfect. His cock pressed thick and hard against you through his jeans, and the way he groaned into your skin when you ground down on him made your thighs tremble.

“Please,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “Please don’t stop.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, guiding him, anchoring him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you breathed. “I’ve got you.”

And he moaned again, mouth still on your skin, hips jerking upward into you like he was begging you to believe him.

Your breathing was ragged. His lips were still wet from your skin. And when you pulled back slightly—only just enough to break contact—Bucky let out a whine.

Not a word. A sound. Broken, instinctual.

“Don’t—” he gasped, trying to follow you. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice barely stable as you pushed gently against his chest.

He let you guide him back, his body hitting the thin mattress with a soft thump, arms still reaching for you like he couldn’t stand a single inch of distance.

“I’ve got you,” you promised again, voice low and sure, even as your hands moved fast.

You didn’t fully undress—didn’t need to. You shoved your jeans down, just past your knees, the waistband biting into your thighs as you knelt between his legs. Bucky’s chest heaved as he watched you, pupils blown wide, lips parted like he was starving.

“God, you’re…” he breathed, voice hoarse. “You’re not real.”

You reached for his jeans, fingers fumbling slightly with the buckle, your own hands shaking now with the sheer pressure of what you were doing—what this was. You unzipped him, tugging his waistband down just far enough to free him.

And there he was.

Hard. Leaking. So fucking ready it made your mouth go dry.

He twitched when your hand wrapped around him—just once—and he gasped, hips jerking slightly off the mattress.

“Please,” he murmured again. “I—I need to be inside you. Please, I need—”

You didn’t let him finish.

You rose back up onto his thighs, grabbed his cock at the base, and positioned yourself with practiced urgency.

He held his breath.

And then—you sank down.

Slow, steady, deep.

Bucky cried out, head snapping back against the mattress, eyes fluttering shut as your heat wrapped around him. “Fuck,—Jesus—”

You couldn’t even breathe for a second. The stretch was intense, overwhelming—your thighs trembling as you adjusted, hands braced on his chest.

Beneath you, he was shaking.

Completely undone.

His hands flew to your hips, gripping tight, not to guide you—but just to hold on.

You stayed there a moment, full of him, pulsing around him, feeling every tremble in his frame.

Then you leaned down, lips brushing his cheek, and whispered, “You feel that?”

He nodded, frantic.

“That’s real. I’m real. And you’re not alone.”

And then you started to move.

You moved slowly at first—hips rolling, drawing his cock in deep, then easing back up, dragging every inch of him against your walls. Bucky’s head tipped back, a shudder ripping through him, his mouth slack, eyes blown wide as his hands dug into your waist like he was terrified you might stop.

“God,” he rasped, “you feel—fuck, you feel so good—”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. The way your body wrapped around him, the rhythm building in your hips—it said everything.

You rode him harder, faster now, the tension rising like a fever. The denim of his jeans and the way your own clothes clung to sweat-slick skin made everything feel even messier, even more raw. The friction burned in the best way, every drag of your body against his driving him closer to the edge.

Bucky couldn’t stop touching you. His hands were on your waist, your thighs, your back—like he couldn’t decide where he needed you more. His voice was low and broken, a litany of groans and murmured please, please, please, even when you were already giving him everything.

When you leaned in and pressed your forehead to his, your fingers tangling in his hair, he was right there with you—breathing you in like oxygen.

His chest was rising fast now, the rhythm in your hips growing sloppy, desperate. You could feel him pulsing inside you, getting close.

Then—suddenly—he surged upward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him as his mouth found yours again. The kiss was rough, needy, all tongue and teeth and shaky breath. He needed to be connected—to feel you pressed against him in every possible way as he unraveled.

And then he came.

You felt it—deep, hot, twitching inside you as he groaned into your mouth, burying his face in your shoulder, his entire body trembling as you held him through it. His arms clutched you tight, almost too tight, like if he let go you might vanish.

You didn’t.

You stayed with him. Arms wrapped around his shoulders. Lips at his temple. Your hips finally stilled.

You hadn’t come. You weren’t even thinking about it.

This—this—had never been about you.

It was for him.

To remind him that he was here. That he was human. That he was held.

You were still catching your breath, his body trembling in your arms, when it happened.

Without a word—without even looking up—Bucky shifted beneath you, tightening his arms around your waist. And before you could ask what he was doing, he flipped you.

Your back hit the mattress with a soft thud, and you barely had time to gasp before his body followed, pressing you down, caging you in.

“Bucky—” you started, surprised, dazed.

But the look in his eyes stole the words from your mouth.

Focused. Intense. Wild with a need you hadn’t seen before—but not for his own release this time.

For yours.

He was still hard inside you. Still there. And now, he began to move.

Not gently.

Not slowly.

He pounded into you—hips snapping forward with frantic rhythm, as if something had cracked open inside him and he couldn’t bear not to give you back everything you’d just given him. Every thrust was deep, hard, messy. His breath came in grunts and gasps, his forehead pressed to yours, his body slick with sweat.

You clutched at his shoulders, your own body struggling to keep up as pleasure started to crash over you like a wave.

“Let me,” he panted, voice low and wrecked. “Let me make you feel good. You—fuck, you were so good to me—I need—I need to make you come—please—”

Your breath hitched, head falling back, eyes fluttering shut as his cock drove into you again and again, hitting all the right angles now with dizzying precision. His hand slid down, slipping between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, desperate, trying to draw your pleasure up through every inch of you.

The pressure built fast. Too fast.

You were already so full, so overwhelmed—his voice in your ear, his fingers on your body, his cock so hard inside you—and the way he moved… God.

“You don’t have to—” you started, already trembling.

“I want to,” he growled, fucking into you harder, deeper, like he couldn’t get close enough.

You whimpered, body jerking beneath his as the tension in your core snapped tighter, tighter, tighter—

“Come for me,” he groaned. “Please. I need to feel it.”

And then you did.

You came with a moan that tore out of your throat, back arching, hands clutching at his back as your body spasmed around him. Bucky groaned, dropping his head into your neck, hips still moving as he rode you through it, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

Like giving you pleasure was what made him feel whole.

His body trembled as he came down, the last few ragged thrusts losing momentum until finally—finally—he stilled, buried deep inside you, heart pounding hard enough that you could feel it through his chest.

He hovered there for a moment, arms shaking, breath catching in his throat.

And then he collapsed.

Not all at once. Slowly, carefully. Like his strength gave out in stages. But even as he let himself fall into you, he caught his weight on his forearms, mindful, always mindful—never fully resting on you. He curled slightly, pressing his face into the crook of your neck like he needed to hide. Like the world was too bright again, too loud, and your skin was the only place left that felt quiet.

Your arms came around him without hesitation.

One hand slipped across his back, fingers splayed wide, gently grounding him with each stroke up and down his spine. The other cradled the back of his head, thumb sweeping slowly through his damp hair, cradling him like something precious.

His breath hitched once.

You didn’t speak right away.

You just held him.

He melted into it slowly, his metal arm resting against the mattress beside your head, his human hand fisting weakly in the blanket beneath you. You felt the tremble still in his muscles—aftershocks of everything he’d just released.

“Shh,” you murmured, soft against his ear. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

His forehead pressed tighter to your throat.

“You’re safe now,” you whispered, voice low and steady. “Right here with me.”

He exhaled, shaky and fragile.

“You’re not alone. You’re not him. You’re not broken.”

He didn’t answer—but he didn’t need to.

He let you hold him.

You kept going, voice like a lullaby, your fingers never stopping.

“You’re gonna be okay,” you murmured. “I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”

His grip on the blanket loosened, and he shifted just enough to finally let some of his weight settle into your body.

Not too much.

Just enough to trust.

4K notes · View notes

spiderwebbedhearts · 25 days ago

Text

THIS IS SO PERFECTTT UGHH

this time of year

pairing: friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've kept your feelings for your friend, steve rogers, quiet for years—but when you're at the holiday market with your whole group of friends, some things come to light, and you don't think you can keep pretending you don't desperately want him anymore.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, light angst, smut, oral sex (m and f receiving), piv sex, protection, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, multiple orgasms, kissing, making out, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine), aftercare, happily ever after—this is probably the most vanilla sex i've written in a while but it's still porn with feelings.

word count: 11.9k

a/n: my first entry for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, and it's technically still december 1 where i live (just barely)!!! i used the prompt "Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?" and had an idea i really liked and just ran with it! i promise most of my december fics won't be 10k+ words—mainly because i don't think i'd survive it 😅 but i hope y'all enjoy this soft and sweet and smutty start to december!! ♡

december daze challenge masterlist

Teasing tingles of chill danced across your skin as the crisp December wind brushed against your cheeks, making you huddle deeper into the warmth of your winter coat. You pushed your hands deeper into your pockets, but it didn’t do much. You’d forgotten your mittens, and your fingers felt nearly frozen.

It didn’t help that you and your friends had been meandering through one of the city’s holiday market for more than a few hours, the cold of the evening sinking deep into your bones. Unfortunately, there were only so many cups of hot chocolate one person could consume before they made themselves sick, and you’d reached that limit.

Still, you were having fun—too much fun to complain about the cold or to try to beg off early. That was why you smiled as you watched your best friend, Yelena Belova, duck into one of the market stalls, her green eyes going wide as they raked over the vendor’s display of knives.

You trailed a little slowly behind the rest of your friends—Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers—beneath the pop-up tent, distracted by the chill in your fingers as you rubbed them against your body through the material of your coat, trying to get them warm.

The wintry wind cut through the market again and, despite the trembling of your body, you smiled as you breathed in the scent of it. Beneath the pine smell from the evergreen trees being sold at the big tent near the entrance and the swirling richness of buttery baked goods, there was a fresh scent that made you turn your face upward.

Gray clouds were rolling in overhead, blotting out the deep navy of the evening sky, and you knew, deep in your bones, that it was going to snow. A smile curled the edges of your lips and you let your eyes fall closed as you breathed in that fresh scent of oncoming snow.

You loved this time of year because you loved the snow.

Everything about it conjured up memories of sitting by a crackling fire, wrapped in a cozy blanket, watching the beautiful flakes fall from the sky and dust everything in a perfect wintry cloak. You could spend hours sitting by a window, watching the snow come down, and you were suddenly looking forward to doing just that once you got home that evening.

When you finally opened your eyes and turned away from the sky, you found Steve lingering in the entrance of the tent where your friends were browsing, an intensity in his gaze as he looked at you. He didn’t look away when you caught him staring, simply held your gaze, letting you see the heat swirling in the depths of his bright blue eyes.

That heat had begun appearing in Steve’s eyes more and more when he looked at you, and you knew it had started after a certain night at the bar your friends frequented a few weeks prior. But you’d been determinedly ignoring that look in Steve’s eyes ever since that night—just like you’d been ignoring what exactly had happened between the two of you.

As fast as the memory of that night sprang to mind, you shoved it aside, reminding yourself that there was no use in dredging it up. What you and Steve had done that night had the potential to ruin all of your relationships, and no matter how much you might’ve wanted reenact the night at the bar, your friend group was too important to you to risk it.

Even after years of knowing them, you still felt like your addition to the group was precarious because you’d joined so much later. Steve, Bucky, Nat and Yelena had all known each other since they were teenagers, and you’d only met them in your early twenties. You’d sat near Yelena at your first job after college, and it had been best friends at first sight—or, at first snarky comment, anyway.

She’d adopted you as her best friend and introduced you to the others since you were new to the city and didn’t know anyone. You’d liked Steve from the moment you met him, but you’d kept a tight lid on your crush since you were more concerned about fitting into the group as seamlessly as possible, and you figured following your feelings would unnecessarily rock the boat.

Still, despite your intention of taking your crush on Steve to your grave, you couldn’t ignore the way he’d grown into himself as you all had gotten older.

Gone was the boy-next-door blond hair and clean-shaven face of the man you’d first met. Steve’s hair had darkened and he’d recently let it grow long enough that it was beginning to curl at the nape of his neck. He’d also grown out his beard, keeping it thick but neatly trimmed.

Steve had also, somewhere along the way, learned how to dress his tall form—and do it well.

That night at the holiday market, he’d worn light gray slacks, a dark charcoal sweater that you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against to see if it was as soft as it looked, and a black wool overcoat. It was an outfit that had you nearly drooling when you’d met up with your friends, unable to tear your eyes away from how Steve’s broad shoulders and trim waist filled out the clothes.

Despite the chill of the evening, Steve hadn’t seemed the least bit cold, and you’d caught yourself thinking more than once how warm it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms. Your fingers would never have gotten so miserably frozen if you’d snuck them beneath Steve’s coat or in his pockets…

With a start, you realized you’d been staring back at Steve for a long, lingering moment, and heat bloomed in your cheeks. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—though, at that moment, you were struggling to figure out what exactly the wrong idea was—so you ducked your head and pretended like you were bundling deeper into your coat as you made to move past him into the tent.

“Are you alright, sunshine?” Steve asked as you passed him, his hand landing gently on your arm. Even through your coat, you could feel the warmth of his touch; it made you pause and glance up at him.

You realized your mistake immediately. You were too close to Steve—far too close. So close you could smell the rich, masculine scent of his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. It made you want to bury your face in his neck and inhale deeply, to wrap yourself up in his warmth until your bones didn’t even remember what the cold felt like.

“I-I’m ok,” you said in a shaky voice, more rattled by Steve’s closeness than the December wind cutting through the city, and you dropped your gaze to the gold pendant around his neck.

It glinted in the soft light of the market stall, and you remembered it had been a gift from his Irish Catholic mother. You used the memory of Steve telling you about the pendant to ground yourself and your voice came out stronger.

“Just cold.”

“D’you want some more hot chocolate?” Steve asked, and there was a hopeful note in his tone, like he was offering to get it for you, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Any more and I think my body will be more hot chocolate than water,” you joked, trying to ignore the emotions swirling in your chest like snowflakes on a wintry gale.

When Steve chuckled, you couldn’t help but look back up at him, finding his blue eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you, affection clear in the lines of his face.

Slowly, his smile eased into something else—something heavier, an expression that was almost yearning. It made the fluttering flakes in your chest swirl more frenziedly while a warmth bloomed somewhere lower, throbbing more to life the longer Steve looked at you with those darkened blue eyes. His expression spoke of things you’d never dare give voice to.

For another long moment, you and Steve just stared at each other, standing too close just inside the canopy of the vendor at the holiday market. A tension you refused to acknowledge crackled in the air around you.

Of their own volition, your eyes dropped to Steve’s mouth, his lower lip looking so soft and pink amid the dark brown of his beard. For what felt like the millionth time in the last few weeks, ever since that night at the bar, you imagined kissing him—how soft his mouth would be, how warm and inviting, and the feel of his rough beard rasping over your cheeks.

“Hey Steve, c’mere!”

Natasha’s call finally broke the spell that had fallen over you and Steve, and you jumped back, only in that moment realizing how close you’d been. Close enough that when you ducked your head and turned away from him, making your way over to Yelena and Bucky, that you missed Steve’s warmth almost immediately.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to ease the tension and whirling emotions in your chest, and slid between your friends, who were still looking at the knives on sale. Looping one arm through Yelena’s, you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, taking comfort in your friends’ warmth, even if it wasn’t as soothing as Steve’s had been.

“Both of you already have too many knives,” you said by way of a greeting. Your comment made both of them snort derisively, which made you smirk since it had been your intention to get a reaction out of them.

“There’s no such thing,” Yelena scoffed, tearing her eyes away from a double-edged dagger with an engraved handle to glance sideways at you. Her gaze met yours and then slid over your shoulder.

You followed it to where Natasha and Steve’s heads were ducked together. They were standing near a display of jewelry and you figured Nat was helping Steve pick out a Christmas present for someone, though you couldn’t think of who. You frowned.

“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”

Bucky’s gruff question drew you out of your thoughts of trying to remember someone in Steve’s life who he might be buying jewelry for, and you looked at your friend. Without even seeing your reflection, you knew confusion was written plainly across your face.

“What?” you asked, a little sharper than you’d intended, but you didn’t appreciate the implication that you were making Steve miserable.

Bucky cut his eyes to you, then slid them to Yelena, giving your best friend a pointed look. You spun your head around to your other side in time to watch Yelena’s mouth flatten into a reproachful frown.

Suddenly, you got the distinct impression that your friends were having an argument about you, though you couldn’t even begin to wonder what it could be about, except that it had something to do with Steve.

It took a moment of silent arguing before Yelena and Bucky seemed to come to an agreement. Yelena looked at you, a gentle expression on her face that made your stomach drop with anxiety—which only worsened when she put her free hand on your arm that was still looped through hers.

However, before she could voice whatever bad news she clearly had to tell you, Bucky cut in.

“You know no one would be upset if you and Steve dated, right?” he asked bluntly, his eyes intense and searching when you turned to look at him. “We all know you like each other.”

If you’d been drinking hot chocolate at that moment, you would’ve spit it out all over Bucky and the display of pretty decorative knives.

Thankfully, you weren’t. But you still managed to sputter and open your mouth repeatedly while you searched for the words to address the preposterousness of Bucky’s statement.

“I do not—”

Whatever weak protest you were going to utter was cut short when Yelena blurted, “We know you kissed.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, the snowflakes that had been fluttering in your chest when you’d been standing with Steve sharpened into icy daggers of unease. You whirled on your best friend. “Pardon?”

“I saw you guys at the bar that night—I went back to get my scarf…” Yelena explained quickly, having the good grace to look apologetic, both for what she’d seen and for bringing it up. “I know you’ve liked Steve for ages, even if you haven’t said anything,” she rushed on, as if she thought if she spoke fast enough, it would make it easier to hear. “I was so excited it was finally happening that I blurted it out to Nat and she told Bucky—we were just so happy for you both.”

You floundered again, your mouth opening and closing as you processed your best friend’s words. It was almost too much to take in. Not only did everyone know what had happened between you and Steve that night at the bar, but it hadn’t changed anything. You’d told yourself for years that nothing could happen between you and Steve because it would throw off the whole balance of the group, but something had happened and it hadn’t done anything.

“I—”

Again, you were cut off, though it was seemingly Bucky’s turn, and your head swiveled back to him on your other side, feeling a bit like a broken bobblehead.

“He’s liked you too, for what it’s worth,” Bucky said. Your face must’ve conveyed disbelief because he went on. “He’s been talking about you since Yelena first introduced you to everyone, but he didn’t know how you felt,” he said, cutting his eyes to Yelena with the barest hint of a glare, “and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Hearing that Steve liked you was officially too much for you to bear. The dawning realization that you could’ve been with Steve without risking your friendships with Yelena, Bucky and Nat was like a yawning, desolate chasm waiting to swallow you whole. You’d lost so much time because you were so afraid of losing them all, and it hurt—it hurt enough that it took you a moment to realize Yelena was talking again.

“We thought someone had finally made a move, but then you guys were pretending like nothing happened,” she was saying, and you turned back to her, your mind so overwhelmed that you no longer felt cold, only numb. “None of us wanted to bring it up because, y’know, I wasn’t supposed to have seen it.” She shot you an apologetic grimace before plowing on, her expression turning gentle again. “You know we’d never stop being your friends, even if something happened with you and Steve, right?”

Your heart was racing, the fear of change quickly eclipsing the fear of losing any more time with Steve. You’d been friends with Yelena, Bucky, Nat and Steve for so long that you couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if the two of you started dating—let alone what might happen if you broke up. Shaking your head, you refused to acknowledge Yelena’s assurance. Even if they’d still be friends with you, nothing would be the same.

“Nothing happened,” you said vehemently, even as you choked on the words, the lie tasting like ash on your tongue. But you couldn’t seem to stop. “We were drunk, it meant nothing.”

But then Bucky—blunt, too-perceptive Bucky—broke into your thoughts and pulled you up short with another simple question.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, his tone not unkind.

You opened your mouth to snap a quick answer, but the ‘yes’ died in your throat. Because of course something had happened, and of course it meant everything.

For the first time in weeks, you gave yourself permission to remember that night.

You’d tried to forget it—forget the softness of Steve’s lips on yours, forget the heat of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, forget the pleasant scrape of his beard against your skin and the gentle way he’d held your face as he deepened the kiss.

Your first kiss with Steve Rogers had been glorious and messy and too short and too perfect—and it had meant everything to you.

But then you remembered what had happened after, the way you’d pulled away, even though you’d been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place, and panicked as soon as your mind had caught up with what you’d done.

The rest of the memory was a blur, the anxiety of the moment softening the edges, but you distinctly remembered extricating yourself from Steve—which had felt a little like cutting off a limb—before telling him it was a mistake and it couldn’t happen again.

Back at the market, you buried your face in your hands, and almost sobbed at the memory. “I’ve already ruined things,” you mumbled miserably into your frozen fingers, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

Bucky made a humming noise, as if he was considering your words. “Whatever happened between you two, it hasn’t changed Steve’s feelings for you,” he said, squeezing your wrist gently until you looked at him. He stared at you for a long moment, making sure you heard him. “So my question stands: When are you going to put him—and yourself—out of this misery?”

Your friends let you sit with that question for a silent moment, then Yelena selected one of the knives, claiming it was an early Christmas present for herself and made her way over to the checkout.

Steve was also apparently buying something, accepting a small wrapped package from the cashier that he slipped into his pocket. You were too overwhelmed by your thoughts to be curious about it anymore though.

You stood with Bucky near the entrance to the tent, waiting for your friends to finish their transactions while your mind swirled. You were grateful to your friend for leaving you alone with your thoughts, though you knew it was only because Bucky was confident he’d made his point.

And he had. Oh how he had.

Your mind and heart were a mess. You’d spent so many years telling yourself that you could never let anyone catch on about your feelings for Steve, because if they did, it would lead to the end of the friend group. But they’d all known for weeks, and nothing had changed.

Well, nothing except apparently Bucky and Yelena had taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. And you wouldn’t have been surprised if Natasha had been in on the ploy as well, distracting Steve purposefully so Yelena and Bucky could ambush you.

Still, you couldn’t fully silence the tiny voice of fear deep in your heart that insisted that if you and Steve got together, and things ended badly, you’d lose all your friends.

The rest of the group had known each other for so long and it had been more than a little daunting to figure out where you fit. Adding a romantic relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster—and if it ended so badly that everyone was forced to choose sides, you couldn’t imagine them choosing yours when they’d known Steve so much longer.

But as you watched Yelena finish paying for the knife, her words about always being your friend came back to you. She was your best friend—and you were hers. As if proving the point, she caught your eye and smiled impishly as she caught up with you, linking her arm through yours and tugging you back out into the market.

In that moment, something settled in you. Without fully realizing it, you’d always been a little insecure in your group of friends, always worried they would kick you out at the smallest infraction. But Yelena had said it plainly—they’d always be your friends, and you owed it to them to believe her, to trust her, because that was what friendship was.

That was what you had to do to have any kind of meaningful relationship.

As your group of friends wandered further down the row of stalls at the holiday market, you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept straying to Steve. Each time, you found him either looking at you already, or glancing your way within seconds, like he could feel your gaze.

When you looked at him, really looked at him, you noticed a little bit of hurt in his eyes. There was only a hint of it, like he was trying to hide it from you and everyone elese, but you could see it.

You wondered, briefly, how you’d missed it, but a part of you knew you’d been seeing it since that night at the bar. You’d just been ignoring it along with everything else swirling in his gaze.

“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”

You’d known you were making yourself miserable—of course you had. But the realization that you were making Steve miserable, even as he made a valiant effort to hide it, was what finally made your decision for you about what to do with everything Bucky and Yelena had told you.

No matter how scared you were that things might end badly, and you’d end up getting your heart broken and lose all your friends, you had to trust them when they said they’d always be there for you. You had to trust that Steve knew what he wanted—and that what he wanted was you.

The group came to another stop when Bucky spotted a specialty chocolate vendor and he ducked inside. Nat and Yelena followed him in—the latter giving you a meaningful look as you trailed behind before cutting her eyes to Steve. The message was clear and you nodded, giving her a playful shove that made your best friend cackle as she followed Bucky and Nat.

You stepped toward Steve where he hovered just outside the tent, and he shot you a knowing smile when he caught your eye.

“Still feeling like you’ve had enough chocolate?” he asked in a friendly tone, referencing your earlier joke. His beard twitched like he was trying to hold back a smile and it warmed your heart that he not only remembered the joke, but still found it funny.

The side of your mouth curved up in a lopsided grin, and you inched a tiny bit closer, just barely stepping into Steve’s personal space as you looked up at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had my fill,” you said, keeping your tone light. You took on a considering expression, tipping your head to the side and tapping a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. “For tonight, at least.”

Both of you laughed, but the December wind cut through the holiday market just then, and it reminded you of how cold your fingers were, especially out in the open. You quickly shoved your hand deep into the pocket of your coat, and Steve didn’t miss the movement, drifting even closer to you.

“Do you have any gloves, sunshine?” he asked in a low, rumbly voice that had warm tingles of delight dancing down your spine, all the way to your toes.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. Steve had moved close enough that you had to tip your head back to keep looking up at him, and you could feel the heat radiating off his larger body.

His blue eyes were sparkling in the warm, golden light of the market, and you could see the swirl of emotion in their depths that was only there when he looked at you. But there was a crease of concern between his brows, too, and you knew he was seconds away from offering to find you some gloves—or something else that would be chivalrous and perfectly friendly.

You realized, very suddenly, that if anything was going to happen between you and Steve, anything like what had happened at the bar, you needed to make the first move. Bucky had said Steve had been worried about making you uncomfortable before that night, and you were certain it had only worsened after the kiss you’d shared.

So, before he could say anything, you blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?”

Steve’s brows lifted in surprise, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from trying to take the words back as soon as they’d slipped out of your mouth. And you were glad you did, because as the moment stretched on, and Steve realized you were serious, his brows lowered and his blue eyes darkened with interest.

“Ya sure about that, sunshine?” he asked, his voice low enough that you knew it was meant for only you. He ducked his head slightly, so he was nearly at your eye level, and held your gaze. “I wouldn’t want you doing anything you might regret.”

The words stung a little, but you knew you deserved them, especially after you’d told Steve that kissing him had been a mistake. So you held his gaze and stepped even closer to him, until there was barely any space left between your bodies.

“I’m sure,” you said firmly, letting Steve see the honesty in your open expression. “I know what I’m doing and I—this is what I want.” You were proud of yourself for only stumbling once, and held your breath as you waited for Steve’s response.

The corners of Steve’s mouth flickered in an eager grin, but he wiped the expression away, like he was worried that if he appeared too excited, he’d scare you away. You felt a pang of regret, and it doubled your determination to show Steve that you weren’t going to panic and run away again.

Pulling your hands from your pockets, you brushed your fingertips against Steve’s stomach in a silent reminder of your question.

“Can I?” you asked, your voice breathless with anticipation.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his eyes molten with heat as he stared down at you. “Go ‘head, sunshine.”

You were cold enough that you didn’t waste any more time, slipping your fingers beneath the hem of Steve’s soft sweater and pressing your frigid fingertips to the warm, smooth skin you found.

“Fuck, your fingers are freezing,” Steve rumbled, the muscles of his abs contracting beneath your touch like they were trying flee. But before you could apologize and pull away, Steve’s hands flattened over yours outside his sweater, pressing your palms against the hard-packed plane of his abs. “Good thing ya got me to keep you warm, sunshine,” he teased, his voice so full of charm that you melted into him.

“Yeah, good thing,” you echoed in a whisper, the edges of your mouth curling up into a pleased smile. You shimmied closer to Steve, watching the way his blue eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze captive.

He wrapped you up against him, holding you in the loose cage of his warms while your fingertips stroked idly against his smooth skin. You wanted to let them wander further beneath his sweater and explore the wonders of Steve’s bare chest, but you managed to keep the urge in check since you were in public—though it was a near thing.

“You know what I like to do most in the winter?” you asked Steve, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you. The sounds of the market all around you were a distant soundtrack.

“What?” he asked indulgently, squeezing you slightly in his arms.

“Curl up in bed and snuggle on a snowy day,” you said with a sly smile. And then, as if a thought had just occurred to you, you tilted your head to the side. “Hey, is your bed comfy? Do you have a lot of nice warm blankets and good pillows?”

A grin pulled across Steve’s face even though he was fighting it, trying to look like he was taking your questions under serious consideration.

“Y’know, I think it’s very comfy,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He’d obviously picked up on the not-so-subtle cue that you might want him to take you back to his place, and you appreciated that he was sticking to the bit. “But it sounds like you’re an expert, so I think you should come over and be the judge of that.”

An answering grin curved your mouth and you murmured, “I’d like that.”

Then, before you could let your fear get the best of you again, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Steve’s beard as you moved to whisper in his ear.

You shivered at the physical reminder of the coarse hair rasping deliciously against your cheeks when he’d kissed you and it took a moment to remember what you’d been about to say. When you did, you couldn’t hold in your smirk.

“Did I mention I do my best snuggling naked?”

“Sunshine.”

The nickname was uttered in a gruff, rumbling rasp, like the sound of a plow on snowy streets. It was so deep and delicious, your toes curled in delight and your mouth pulled into a full-blown grin.

You barely had time to pull away before Steve was wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and towing you in for a kiss.

Steve’s mouth was wonderfully soft and exquisitely warm and achingly familiar against yours. He wasted no time licking along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance that you happily gave him.

Your fingers curled around Steve’s sides beneath his sweater, digging greedily into the soft skin at his waist while you kissed him back feverishly, trying to close every gap between your bodies.

“Fuck, how does this feel so much better than I remember?” Steve growled against your lips, his hand on the back of your neck tilting your head just the way he wanted so he could lick even deeper into your mouth.

Your breathy, delirious laugh was swallowed by his all-consuming kiss, the sound turning into a helpless moan.

God, he was right, it did feel so much better than you remembered to have Steve’s mouth on yours, and you couldn’t fathom how you’d run away from him before because, in that moment, the last thing you wanted to do was stop. You wanted to kiss Steve for the rest of your life.

“I don’t know, but Steve, please, don’t stop,” you murmured when he finally let you up for air. You tried to catch your breath while he was busy pressing insatiable kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, anywhere he could reach without straying too far from your lips.

Pulling your hands from beneath his sweater, your no longer freezing fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, pulling him closer while at the same time pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes again. Your bodies slotted together even more perfectly, and you moaned softly into his mouth as you tugged him in for another kiss.

Steve kissed you harder, holding you tight to his chest like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear on the wintry wind. In turn, you held him just as fiercely, your nails raking through the beard on the underside of his jaw and tugging lightly to bring him closer until he was rumbling a pleased sound deep in his chest.

“Get a room!”

The perfect bubble that had formed around and Steve abruptly popped, the sounds of the bustling holiday market rushing in along with the December chill and you pulled away, your first instinct to worry about what your friends would think. But then you caught the look on Steve’s face.

He was staring at you with such a blissed out expression, his blue eyes dark and hazy, a pleased smile on his kiss-swollen lips, that you couldn’t help but relax and melt back into him. You took your time to press a sweet kiss to his lips before turning to your friends.

Natasha, Yelena and Bucky all wore matching smug grins. Nat was even popping little chocolate candies into her mouth like she was enjoying the show.

“Oh no, please don’t stop on our account,” she called to you and Steve, gesturing with her hand for you both to continue. The whole group burst into raucous laughter.

Cracking up and shaking your head, you buried your face in Steve’s rumbling chest, feeling a little shy about being caught making out so heatedly by your friends. But you felt relief, too, that no one was upset—that all your friends were happy for you and Steve.

When you’d finally gotten ahold of yourself, you tipped your face up and caught Steve’s eye, giving him a sly smile that had his expression instantly darkening with a hunger that made you pulse with desire.

“So about that comfy bed of yours…” you murmured, just for him to hear. When he nodded once, quickly, to acknowledge he remembered it, you went on. “I’d love to see it if you’re ready to go?”

The implication of your question was clear and Steve clutched you tighter to his chest, capturing your lips for a brief, hot kiss that did more to warm you from the inside out than any of the hot chocolate you’d consumed that evening.

“Sunshine, I’ve been ready to take you home for years,” he rasped against your mouth, the honesty in his voice making you smile.

When Steve pulled away, he tugged you over to your group of friends and told them you were heading home—yes, together, he confirmed. All three of them murmured encouraging words in your ear as you hugged them goodbye, and you could tell by the pink tinging Steve’s cheeks that they were doing the same to him.

Once farewells were said, Steve snagged your hand and laced your fingers together. As you walked to the subway, he tucked your clasped hands into the pocket of his overcoat, and then your other into the crook of his elbow, where he covered it with his palm to keep you warm.

Steve held you tucked into his side the whole way back to his place while he made idle conversation, asking about the latest books you’d read and movies you’d watched. He only let go when it came time to pull out his keys and unlock his door.

There was a giddy, electric energy between the two of you as Steve helped you out of your coat and hung it up. Your gaze kept drifting back to him while you took off your boots and he hung up his overcoat. Once done, he stepped close, toeing out of his shoes next to where you’d dropped your boots.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Steve asked, his voice rough and a little uneven, like he was nervous. It made you smile, settling your own nerves to know he was right there with you.

You stepped further into Steve’s space, your fingers sneaking beneath the hem of his sweater and giggling when he sucked in a sharp breath. He’d made an excellent effort to keep your fingers warm on the way home, but the December cold had still snuck in.

It was a good thing Steve was there to warm you up again.

“I think I’d just like to see this comfy bed of yours,” you murmured, pushing up onto your tiptoes and kissing Steve.

The two of you lingered in the entryway of Steve’s apartment for long minutes, kissing and learning what made each other gasp and moan. His teeth nipped at your lower lip, sinking in hard enough to make you whimper before relenting and soothing the sting away with his tongue.

Meanwhile, you let your hands wander further beneath Steve’s sweater, finding a light trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his slacks. You raked your nails through it, and relished the pleased sound that rumbled in his chest.

Warm, wet desire was gathering between your thighs, and it wasn’t long before you squirmed impatiently against Steve, needing more.

By the time Steve broke the kiss and spun you around, his heavy hands dropping to your hips to guide you through his apartment, your panties were damp and you were aching for something only Steve could give you.

Both of you moved quickly as you let Steve lead you to his bedroom, pausing just inside the darkened room while he flicked on a light.

A soft, golden glow emanated from two lamps set on low wooden tables on either side of the massive bed. Curiously, your gaze roved over the room, taking in the earthy colors and tasteful design.

It seemed Steve hadn’t only gotten his wardrobe and appearance together—he’d also made his home a place that was warm and welcoming and entirely him.

The king-size bed was swathed in a thick, forest green comforter with dark charcoal sheets, a veritable pile of pillows at the head that looked far too enticing. The rest of the room was furnished with a dark wooden bookcase and dresser that matched the bed frame and side tables. There were even some vintage photographs of Brooklyn decorating the wall, along with some framed pictures on dresser.

Wandering over, you picked up one of the photographs. It was from the first autumn after you’d met Yelena and the others. The group had rented a car and gone to a farm upstate to go apple picking and enjoy all the other autumnal delights the state had to offer.

In the photo, you were tucked into Steve’s side on a bale of hay, ready for the hayride the group had decided to go on, with Yelena on your other side. There was a blanket draped over your laps, and Steve’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders. The three of you were beaming at the camera.

“Do you remember that trip?” Steve asked, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder while he peered at the photograph.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. Then you winced as you remembered something about the trip. “Wasn’t this the time I fell asleep on your shoulder on the way home and drooled all over your jacket?”

Steve laughed huskily in your ear.

“It is,” he confirmed, brushing a kiss to your cheek before murmuring. “I didn’t wash it for a month.”

It was your turn to laugh, though the sound was more of a surprised exhalation as you twisted your upper body so you could see his face better.

“What?”

Steve grimaced, wrinkling his nose and scuffing a hand against the back of his neck sheepishly, like he regretted admitting that to you.

“It was more because it smelled like you than because of the, y’know, drool,” he explained, his tone a tiny bit defensive. But then he looked at you, finding your face still frozen in surprise and his expression softened. “I’ve liked you since I met you, sunshine.”

It wasn’t anything Bucky hadn’t already told you, but it still felt like an entirely new revelation coming straight from Steve, and all you could think to say was, “Oh.”

You turned back to the photo, still held in your hand, and all you could think about was the fact that you had the same one tacked up on the corkboard over your desk. You wondered if Steve liked it for the same reason you did—because it made the two of you look like a happy couple, even with Yelena sitting next to you.

“I liked you too,” you confessed in a small voice.

Steve was quiet for a moment, his hold on you loosening slightly as you stepped forward to put the photograph back on his dresser. But when that was done, he towed you back in until your back was pressed to his chest.

“Liked?” he asked, enunciating the ‘d’ at the end of the word.

Your mouth flickered in a smile and you turned around in his arms. Your hands smoothed over his broad shoulders while you leaned into him, your soft curves pressing into the hard planes of his body.

“I liked you then, and I like you now, Steve,” you said, holding your breath as you stared up at him. Even knowing he felt the same way about you, it was still scary to lay your heart bare for the first time, and you waited eagerly for his response.

An exhale gusted from Steve and you couldn’t help but note the relief in his expression, even as he grinned wide.

“That’s good to hear, sunshine, because I like you, too.”

“Good,” you said with a grin, dragging Steve down for a too-brief kiss. “Now, will you take me to bed already?”

Steve’s laughter was muffled as he kissed you again, guiding you around and walking you backward until the backs of your legs hit the bed. He didn’t break the kiss as he lowered you to the soft mattress and helped you slide up the bed until your shoulders settled into the pile of pillows at the head.

Your arms wrapped around Steve and you pulled him down on top of you while he braced himself so he didn’t crush you. One of his legs slid between your thighs and he lowered himself down on top of you until his bulge pressed into your stomach. Your belly swooped with excitement and your pulse thrummed with desire.

Hiking one of your legs up around his waist, you writhed beneath Steve, grinding your hot core against his thigh through your jeans.

You couldn’t seem to stop touching him, your hands sketching the exact measure of his body, and he seemed to be doing the same. Steve’s hands couldn’t stay still, sliding up and down your sides before finally pushing beneath your sweater.

His warm, calloused fingers stroked covetously over your skin, and you felt extra sensitive wherever he touched you, his every caress sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body.

“Steve,” you whined, wrenching your mouth from his to drag in a much-needed breath. Even still, you craved more and your body rocked up into his, grinding against his thigh while his bulge pressed insistently into your belly.

“You feel so good, sunshine,” he rasped as he kissed a trail along your jaw and down to your neck. The scratch of his beard against your skin had you shuddering beneath his big body. “Can I…?” he asked, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your bra beneath your sweater.

“Yes—please,” you gasped. Your own fingers curled into the soft fabric of Steve’s sweater between his shoulder blades and you tugged on it, trying to pull it over his head.

Steve chuckled into your neck before he sat up and yanked his sweater off for you, baring the broad expanse of his chest. You caught glimpses of soft brown hair dusted across his pecs and endless swaths of golden skin before he was helping you out of your sweater.

You grumbled disgruntledly when your view of Steve was cut off as he tugged your sweater over your head, then as he leaned close to unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere in the room. You only dragged your eyes away from Steve’s perfect chest when he made a low, almost anguished sound.

He looked a little dazed, his eyes staring down at your bare breasts. Your chest was heaving slightly, making them bounce gently, and Steve looked almost hypnotized by the sight.

Snorting to yourself, you curled your fingers around his firm biceps and tugged him back down on top of you, whimpering when your nipples brushed against the hair on his chest. They pebbled as pleasure spiked through your body, settling heavily between your thighs and making even more wetness soak into your panties.

The movement had broken Steve from his trance and he began kissing from your neck down your chest. The rasp of his beard over your clavicle sent a delicious shiver down your spine, making you keen and tremble beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he rumbled gruffly into your skin. He buried his face in the valley between your breasts, groping your supple flesh in his big hands while pressing teasing kisses and gentle bites to your skin. “You’re so perfect, sunshine.”

You whined a needy sound, reacting to his touch as much as his awe-filled words, and threaded your fingers through Steve’s soft hair. You held him tightly to your chest, wordlessly pleading for more, and he enthusiastically indulged the request.

Steve wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked deeply, drawing so much of you into his hot mouth, it felt like he was doing his damndest to devour you. You were already so sensitive for him that it felt like there was a direct line connecting your sensitive peak to your clit, and you cried out in pleasure, your spine arching up off the bed and pushing your chest further in Steve’s face.

He grinned, doing a poor job of hiding his self-satisfied expression in your soft tits, but you didn’t begrudge him the smugness—not when he nibbled at your hardened nipple so good, it made your hips buck up from the bed. A whine slipped from your lips when you realized you no longer had his thigh to grind against, your legs kicking restlessly at the sheets.

After giving the same torturous treatment to your other nipple, wringing even more whimpering whines and desperate keening sounds from your mouth, Steve began kissing his way further down your body. He nipped playfully at your belly before lifting his head to catch your eye.

It took you a moment to blink them into focus enough to see him clearly.

“I’ve been dreaming about your taste for years, sunshine,” he rumbled, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and tugging just enough that you knew he was asking if he could take them off. “Please, can I…?”

You were already nodding, your fingers fumbling over the button of your jeans. Steve seemed just as eager as you, gently pushing your hand aside and taking over as he thumbed it through the hole in the denim and pulled your zipper down. Then he was peeling your jeans down over you hips and thighs, taking your panties off at the same time.

In only a few seconds, you were stripped bare for the first time in front of Steve Rogers, and if it wasn’t for the shuddered exhale that gusted past his lips and the sizable bulge twitching in the front of his slacks, it might’ve occurred to you to feel a little insecure.

But before those thoughts could even begin to creep in, Steve was dragging his hands up your thighs and spreading your legs with a reverent look on his face, giving an appreciative rumble deep in his chest as he raked his eyes up the naked length of your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his face between your thighs and taking a deep breath.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to wonder at how you smelled because Steve was licking his tongue into the seam of your pussy, groaning like he’d eaten something delicious.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” he growled before diving in deeper, burying his face against your cunt and eating you out like he was a dying man and you were his last meal.

In no time at all, he had you crying out, your hips bucking up off the bed as pleasure swirled through your body. It was all you could do to try to stop yourself from humping against his handsome face.

Steve’s thick biceps banded around your thighs and he held you spread open while he feasted on you, his eyes staring up past your quivering belly and heaving chest to watch your reactions. He sucked and nibbled and flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit, paying attention to what had you writhing and moaning your pleasure beneath him.

He licked into your pussy, fucking you with his tongue until you were squirming and panting on the bed, your thighs tensing and trembling with your building release.

Needing something to hold on to, you threaded your fingers into Steve’s hair, holding his head against your greedy pussy and rocking your hips into him. You moaned loudly, unabashedly, grinding against his mouth and beard as you neared the edge.

“Oh god, Steve, ‘m so close, please—please, don’t stop, ‘m gonna come,” you babbled, your spine arching up off the bed as you threw your head back into the pile of soft pillows. “Fuck, please, please, please!”

It was clear that Steve was a quick study when it came to your body, and he put what he’d learned to good use, sucking hard on your clit and flicking his tongue over it, steadily driving your pleasure higher until, finally, it crested. And then he pushed you right over the edge.

Your fingers fisted in Steve’s hair and you humped shamelessly against his face as you came with a cry of his name—“Steve!” Your body tightened, and then loosened as wave after wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, making you shiver intensely while Steve’s mouth worked you through your release.

When the pleasure began to ebb, you melted back into the soft blankets on Steve’s bed, a dazed smile curving your mouth. Steve eased you down with gentle sweeps of his tongue and soft kisses to your inner thighs, murmuring sweet words to you about how good you tasted on his tongue.

It wasn’t until you whimpered from overstimulation that Steve stopped. He pressed one last kiss to the top of your mound before pushing himself up. His happy grin when he saw the sated, content expression on your face made your heart skip a beat in your chest. He was just so damn handsome.

“Good?” Steve asked, though you knew from the self-satisfied look in his eye that he already knew the answer to his question.

Still, you nodded. “So good,” you purred, stretching and reaching for him. Your fingers curled into coarse hair on the underside of his jaw and you tugged him up your body for a kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, and his beard was so drenched in your juices, it made your own cheeks damp. A groan worked its way up your throat at the filthiness of the kiss, and you pulled Steve closer, letting him muffle the sound as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Even though Steve had just made you come harder than anyone else in your entire life, renewed desire was beginning to bloom in your core, the heat of your arousal already building again. Distractedly, you recognized that you’d never felt the way you did for anyone but Steve—insatiable, unwilling to let the night end just yet.

When Steve’s hard bulge knocked against your hip, a devious smirk curled your lips and you wasted no time trailing your fingers down his bare, golden chest to grope his cock through his slacks. He was hard and heavy in your hand, and an excited thrill raced down your spine at the thought of taking him in your mouth.

Steve groaned against your lips, his big body shuddering when you squeezed and stroked him through the thick material of his pants. So you did it again, rubbing him with your palm until you felt his hard length jump against your fingers, like his body was just as eager for your touch as the rest of him.

“We don’t have to do more,” Steve said, his voice a little breathless. “I-I mean, you don’t have to return the favor or anything. I’m good to just go to sleep if that’s what you want.”

Steve’s words were honorable, but you didn’t want to sleep.

You pushed at his larger body until he flipped onto his back. Following after him, you kissed down his chest, taking a moment to nuzzle in the soft hair scattered across his pecs before you lifted your head and caught his eye, letting him see the desire in yours.

“I bet I’ve dreamed about sucking your cock just as much as you dreamed about eating my pussy,” you whispered huskily, holding his gaze determinedly while you shifted down his body until your face was level with his bulge. You mouthed at his hard length through his slacks. “Please, Steve, can I…?”

“Yeah—yes—fuck, sunshine, you can do whatever you want,” he rasped, helping you undo his button and fly, his fingers trembling. Then he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.

You felt like you were unwrapping the most perfect Christmas present as you tugged his slacks and boxer briefs down his thick, toned thighs. You even let out a little gasp of delight when Steve’s cock bounced free, marveling at the sheer masculine beauty of it.

Impatiently, you pulled his clothes the rest of the way off, pausing only to kiss his thighs, enjoying the softness of his leg hair against your lips and cheeks, before returning to his cock.

Taking him in hand, you circled your fingers around the thick shaft and gave him a loose pump, watching how he bucked his hips into your fist from just that little bit of touching. Steve’s hands were fisted in the blankets on the bed, like he was holding himself back from touching you, and you decided you want to make the man—your man—lose himself in pleasure, just like he’d done to you.

You ducked down and licked the tip of Steve’s cock, humming in delight as the salty, musky taste of his precum burst on your tongue. The vibrations made Steve groan and you hid a self-satisfied smirk against his cock, before refocusing on your task.

You pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down Steve’s shaft, staring up his hard, firm body while he watched you worship his cock. His cheeks were tinged pink, a light sheen of sweat dotting his brow and his eyes were so dark, his pupils blown so wide, they looked like the navy blue night sky on a winter evening.

When you ducked down further, taking his balls into your mouth and suckling greedily, Steve’s gaze widened and his cock twitched in your hand.

“Sunshine,” he rasped, the nickname sounding like a plea for mercy as he groaned loudly. “Ya keep sucking my balls and I’m gonna come way too soon.”

With a smirk, you gave his sensitive sac one last little suckle before letting it fall from your lips, then you licked up the length of his cock.

“Can’t have that,” you quipped, shooting him a smug grin. You pressed a kiss to the tip and wrapped your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth and sucking hard enough to make his hips buck up off the bed.

Another anguished sound wrenched free from Steve’s lips.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he settled back down, one of his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head—not pushing you down or pulling you away, just holding you like he couldn’t help but touch you.

For a moment, you focused on Steve’s cock, pulling back before taking him deeper into your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the head and trace the veins decorating his shaft while your fist stroked him. But when you flicked your gaze up to Steve, you found him watching you with adoration in his eyes.

“You’re amazing, sunshine,” he rumbled when he noticed he had your attention, one side of his mouth pulling up in a lopsided grin. “You’re gorgeous—and you look so fucking hot with my cock in your mouth.”

The corners of your mouth flickered in a pleased smile as his praise washed over you, and you closed your eyes, soaking it in. When you opened them again, you redoubled your efforts on Steve, bobbing up and down on his length at a steady pace while you pumped him in your fist.

You lost yourself in the pleasure of sucking Steve’s cock, and before long, you could feel yourself growing wet all over again. Your inner walls clenched pathetically around nothing while your mouth was filled with his big dick, but you didn’t want to stop.

However, before you could make Steve come down your throat, his hands gently gripped your head and he pulled you up off his cock. With his considerable strength, Steve hauled you back up the bed and rolled you over onto your back beneath him, bracing himself on one hand while the other slide between your thighs. He bit off a curse when he felt how wet you were.

“Christ, sunshine, ya got this wet from sucking my cock?” he asked, a note of teasing in his tone that had heat coursing through your body. Before you could respond, though, his mouth found yours for a kiss.

You were certain he must’ve been able to taste himself on your tongue, but he didn’t seem to care. He was too determined to devour your lips and swallow your moan while he speared you open with two fingers, capturing your cry of pleasure.

“Oh god, Steve,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hips rocking into his hand and fucking his fingers. “Please, I need you—I need you to fuck me.” Your hand was fisted in Steve’s soft hair and you clung to him, your entire being straining to get closer while still taking all the pleasure his fingers offered.

“Thank fuck—I need you so goddamned bad, sunshine,” he groaned, easing his fingers from your dripping hole and rolling onto his back so he could reach for something.

A moment later, you heard the sound of a wooden drawer snap closed and he rolled back on top of you, the square foil packet of a condom held in his fingers.

“Ya wanna do the honors?” he asked, his grin so charming and so like the Steve you’d known for so many years that it took your breath away.

But there was a comfort and an ease to the moment because you were there with Steve—your Steve—and you laughed at his silly offer. You were shaking your head even as you took the packet and tore it open, tossing the foil aside and making quick work of rolling the condom onto his cock.

When you were done, you gave the base of his shaft an affectionate squeeze and Steve chuckled, capturing your lips in a kiss while he shifted on top of you, pressing his knees between your legs and spreading your thighs to make room for his big, broad body.

You opened happily for him, kissing him back while your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs. Together, you lined your bodies up until Steve’s cock lay heavily against your mound, kissing lazily all the while.

After a moment, Steve broke the kiss, pushing himself up with one hand while the other fisted his hard length and held himself away from the place where you ached for him to fill. He stared deep into your eyes and gave you a serious look, a little bit of anxiety swirling in his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes roving over your face like he was searching for any hidden remnant of hesitance on your part—any sign that you might run, you realized. “Because I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you for so long, that if you tell me tomorrow this was a mistake…” Steve paused, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed, “it’ll break my fucking heart, sunshine.”

Steve’s voice cracked a little on the pet name and it made your heart split open in your chest. You didn’t know if you’d ever forgive yourself for hurting Steve the way you did, for saying those things you didn’t mean and trying to push him away when all you’d wanted was to pull him closer.

You decided then and there to make it up to him—and that began with being honest with him. Always.

So you threaded your fingers into Steve’s beard until you were cupping his face and you stared him directly in the eye as you answered his question.

“I’m sure, Steve,” you said firmly, certainty resonating in your tone. “I was scared before—I’ve wanted you for so long that the thought of finally having you was terrifying.” You gave him a tremulous, apologetic smile, and his expression softened. “But I’m sure about this,” you said again, your voice stronger. “I’m sure about you, and I’m sure about us.”

When you finished your confession, Steve’s eyes closed and he exhaled a long, relieved breath. You pulled him down for a kiss, and it was a gentle thing—tentative as you both savored the vulnerability you shared, physically and emotionally, thanking one another for the trust that took.

It was only when the kiss ended and Steve pressed his forehead to yours that he pushed inside you for the first time, his thick cock sinking deep into your pussy with one determined, inexorable thrust.

Your arms and legs were wrapped around him already and you clung to Steve as you cried out, tears of emotion pricking at the backs of your eyes even as pleasure radiated through your body.

“You ok?” Steve asked softly and the question—so gentle and genuine—had a tear spilling onto your cheek. He brushed it away.

“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admitted in a thick voice, tugging Steve’s mouth back to yours, kissing him deeply.

Together, you gave yourselves over to your instincts. Steve pulled his hips back until only half of him remained inside, and your heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him to plunge deep into you again. He slid home, and both of you moaned.

Steve rocked into you with slow, thorough thrusts, but when you moaned for more, he drew back more each time and thrust harder. It wasn’t long before he was fucking you in hard, deep strokes that hit all the most perfect spots inside you, his mouth kissing your cheeks and neck and anywhere he could reach while he held you pinned to his chest, his hips working his cock deep into your cunt.

With every hard thrust, you clung more tightly to Steve, holding him with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair, thankful he’d grown it long enough that you could grip it tight in your fists. Your body writhed beneath his bigger form, using your legs draped around his thighs to meet his thrusts.

For what seemed like forever, you and Steve were nothing more than two writhing bodies trying to get closer, deeper, tighter together, like your hearts were straining to become one. And you were so consumed with pleasure that it wasn’t until you were right on the precipice of your release that you realized you were close.

“Steve,” you gasped, trying to tell him you were going to come, and just then he changed the angle of his hips, stealing the words from your lips.

He was driving his cock so deep into your cunt and grinding against your clit so exquistiely that you saw stars. Your body shook under a deluge of pleasure and the coil of tension twisted tighter in your core.

“Come for me, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, fucking you hard and deep and so perfectly you knew you were forever ruined for any other man. “Be a good girl and come on my cock before I fucking explode.”

His filthy words were your undoing.

You shattered apart, sharp, sparkling pleasure devastating your body and mind while you screamed Steve’s name as you came. Your whole body clenched tight, clamping down on Steve’s cock hard enough that he grunted into your neck, then you succumbed to the pleasure as it dragged you under its thrall, whimpers and moans spilling from your lips mindlessly.

Steve’s hands gripped your hips tightly, and he rutted into your clenching pussy with wild thrusts as he chased his own release. He found it only a moment after yours, groaning your name against your cheek while his hips stuttered and shunted forward, burying himself balls-deep in your fluttering pussy while he came, his cock throbbing deep in your cunt.

You held each other close as you came down from your releases. Your fingers stroked through Steve’s soft hair, the strands damp with sweat, and twirled around the gently curling ends. Meanwhile, his hands were petting up and down your sides, his face buried in the pillow beside your head while he rumbled muffled words of praise in your ear.

Eventually, Steve sat up, pulling his softening cock as gently from your body as he could manage, watching your face closely for any hint of pain. You were a little sore, but when he pulled free, your body mourned the loss of him more than anything else.

He quickly disposed of the condom and wrapper in his bathroom, then came back with a warm wet washcloth. He cleaned you up with gentle caresses, pressing a kiss to your hip and nipping playfully at your belly until you were giggling and pushing him away, your body too tired and sated and oversensitive for such treatment—but you were grinning all the same.

When he was done, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom while he padded to his dresser. After you were done, you found Steve relaxing on his bed in only a pair of lounge pants, his chiseled chest deliciously bare and biceps bulging with his hands tucked behind his head.

You paused, raking your eyes over his gorgeous chest, only catching his gaze when he made a deep, rumbling sound of good-natured warning.

“You better put on some pajamas, sunshine,” Steve started, his blue eyes heated and a playful smile flickering at the edges of his mouth, almost hidden by his beard. “Unless you want me to fuck you again.”

The threat in his tone was flirtatious and you almost took him up on the offer. But you knew that if Steve fucked you again, you’d be sore the next day, and you didn’t want that. Huffing a petulant sigh, you moved to the pile of folded clothes Steve had left on the corner of the bed.

The heat in Steve’s eyes didn’t abate as he watched you pull one of his shirts over your head, tugging the hem down until it covered your ass and part of your thigh. You didn’t have any clean panties, so you crawled into bed like that, your eyes finding Steve and watching as the heat of desire softened into the warmth of affection.

The two of you slid beneath the blankets and you curled up at Steve’s side, your head on his chest. You fell asleep quickly and easily to the sound of his gentle breathing, and the steady drumming of his heart beating beneath your cheek.

The next morning, you woke to snow flurries drifting past the windows of Steve’s bedroom, the flakes having covered his neighborhood in a blanket of white while you slept. You pressed a happy smile against Steve’s sternum, the expression deepening when you felt his heart skip a beat at your closeness.

“So, is my bed comfy enough for you, sunshine?” he asked in the deep rasp of a man who’d just woken up. Using his arms looped around your waist, he pulled you on top of him, his mouth finding yours for a decadent good morning kiss before he let you answer.

“Hmm,” you hummed playfully in thought, smiling against his mouth while you pulled him closer with your fingers curled into the scruffy, coarse hair of his beard. “It could use a few more pillows—and maybe a nice throw blanket.”

“Consider it done,” he murmured, rolling you beneath his broad body and sliding his hips between your thighs. His morning wood brushed against your bare core and you moaned into his mouth. “Anything you want, you just tell me, sunshine,” he rumbled in between slow, drugging kisses, his hips rolling leisurely against you. “I want my girlfriend to feel comfortable here.”

“Girlfriend?” you gasped breathlessly, your heart beating harder with excitement while he pulled away to kiss down your neck. You could feel Steve’s grin against the side of your throat before he pressed a kiss against your thrumming pulse.

“You wanna be my girlfriend, don’t ya, sunshine?” he asked.

It was only because you’d known Steve for so long, and were so determined never to hurt him again, that you heard the tiny thread of anxiety in his tone. You squeezed him tightly in your arms and rushed to answer, eager to put his worry to rest.

“Yes!” you cried happily. “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend, Steve.” You twisted your fingers in his soft hair and tugged his mouth up from your neck. “Now kiss me, boyfriend,” you murmured and Steve, obligingly, crushed his mouth to yours in a blissful kiss.

You and Steve reveled in your new relationship, spending a long time in bed just kissing and exploring each other and making up for lost time before your growling stomachs finally made you get up.

After breakfast, Steve seemed to remember something and he padded to the entryway, coming back with the box he’d acquired at the holiday market the evening before. He handed it to you, saying there was no way he’d be able to wait until Christmas to give it to you.

You opened the present, finding a simple silver chain and a stunningly engraved sun pendant within. You were so overwhelmed with happiness that tears sprang to your eyes and you had to hastily wipe them away.

“A little bit of sunshine for my sunshine,” Steve murmured against your temple before pressing a kiss to your skin.

At your insistence, he helped you put the necklace on and you thanked him graciously—with words and kisses. Then you towed Steve back to bed, and the two of you gave in to the pleasure of your bodies until you collapsed, sated once again.

All day, you couldn’t stop smiling. You were doing one of your favorite things, snuggling on a snowy day, with one of your favorite people in the world—your boyfriend. And you were making plans for the future, talking about what you were going to get your other friends for Christmas and arguing about how to best decorate Steve’s apartment for the holiday.

The whole time, you couldn’t help but think about how Christmas would always be extra special for you from that year on. It was a wonderful holiday but, more importantly to you, it was when you and Steve Rogers finally admitted your feelings for one another and took the first step toward a forever together.

So, this time of year would always be your favorite time of year.

december daze challenge masterlist

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spiderwebbedhearts · 28 days ago

Text

THIS IS SOOO CUTE AND BOB IS SO ADORABLE 🥺

I Think I Love You

pairing | fwb!bucky x new!avengers!reader

word count | 5.4k words

summary I You agreed to keep it casual—just sex, no feelings. But when loving Bucky in silence begins to break you, walking away is the only thing you can do… even if it destroys you both.

tags | Thunderbolts Spoilers??? I guess, tower fic, 18+ (MDNI), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, obsessive!bucky, fem!reader, miscommunication, dumbasses in love, platonic!bob x reader

a/n | new acc, this was to cute to write. Enjoy! REQUESTS ARE OPEN

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨

It was always like this.

His body above yours, surrounding you, drowning you in heat and hunger like you were oxygen to him. Like fucking you was the only way he knew how to breathe. Like if he didn’t bury himself inside you right now, he’d come apart at the seams.

Bucky kissed you like he was starving—mouth hot and bruising, tongue claiming yours with an edge of desperation that never quite dulled. His hands were everywhere, rough and sure, sliding under your tank, gripping your waist, dragging you beneath him like he was scared you’d vanish if he didn’t anchor you down.

You didn’t fight it. You never did.

Because this was the only version of him you could have—the one that came alive behind closed doors. The one who groaned your name like a curse when you kissed down his throat, who pulled your panties down with shaking hands, who slid into you with a sound like it hurt to finally be inside you.

“Fuck, doll,” he rasped, forehead pressed to yours, hips grinding into you deep and slow. “You always feel so fuckin’ good. You were made for me.”

God, it sounded like love. It always did.

His mouth found your neck again, biting gently, sucking bruises into your skin like a claim no one would ever see. And your hands clutched his back, nails digging in, legs wrapping tighter around his waist as you rocked your hips up to meet every thrust.

You wanted to believe this was real. That it meant something more. That the way he looked at you—eyes dark and blown wide, lips parted, breath ragged—wasn’t just lust.

But you knew better.

You’d agreed to this.

No feelings. No mess. Just heat and need and late nights tangled in sweat-soaked sheets.

Still, you craved it—him—in ways you couldn’t admit. Not even to yourself.

Bucky fucked you like you were a secret he couldn’t bear to keep. His metal hand gripped your thigh, forcing it higher around his hip, while his other tangled in your hair, tugging gently to expose your throat. He licked a stripe up your neck and groaned when you whimpered.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he said, voice low and rough. “Wanna hear you.”

You moaned for him, because you always did.

And he gave you everything. Thrust after thrust, deep and controlled, like he was trying to memorize the shape of you from the inside out. Your bodies moved together like muscle memory—practiced, perfect.

You cried out when he hit that spot, again and again, stars bursting behind your eyelids as your orgasm built too fast to control. He felt it—knew it—and his grip tightened, pace faltering just slightly as he pressed harder, deeper.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he growled. “Come on, give it to me.”

You shattered.

Your body seized around him, nails raking down his back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as pleasure tore through you in waves. And Bucky? He didn’t stop. He chased his own release through the pulsing grip of your cunt, moaning your name like a promise he’d never make aloud.

“Fuck—gonna come—shit, fuck—” he gasped, slamming into you once more before spilling inside with a groan so raw it made your chest ache.

He collapsed against you, face buried in your neck, his breath hot and ragged.

You held him, like you always did. Tangled in the afterglow, skin slick with sweat, hearts still racing. And for a moment, you let yourself pretend.

That maybe this time would be different.

That maybe he’d stay.

That maybe he'd roll off of you, cup your cheek, and tell you he couldn’t keep pretending this didn’t mean something.

But instead, he sighed. A soft, satisfied sound. Then rolled onto his back, pulling his arm behind his head.

He didn’t look at you.

He never did after.

You stared at the ceiling, heart pounding in your throat, your body warm and full and hollow all at once.

And all you could think was:

I want him to touch me like that in the daylight.

I want him to want me when we’re not naked.

But he didn’t. Or wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.

You weren’t sure which hurt more.

The kitchen in the tower was quiet, save for the soft clatter of a cutting board and the low simmer of something bubbling on the stove. You stood at the counter, knife in hand, carefully dicing onions while Bob sat beside you, his own cutting board a chaotic mess of uneven pepper slices and cucumber spears.

He was squinting at the vegetables like they’d wronged him personally.

“I swear,” he said, furrowing his brow as he tried to slice a tomato without completely demolishing it, “these things are out to get me. Slippery little bastards.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You don’t have to help, you know.”

“No, I want to. It’s… nice.” He shrugged. “Domestic. Also, I read somewhere it builds team trust or something. Shared food prep.”

You snorted. “Where’d you read that?”

“A Reddit thread about Dungeons & Dragons, actually.”

You laughed for real that time. “Of course.”

The smell of garlic and rosemary floated through the air. The oven clicked softly as it preheated. Outside the window, the sky was grey and moody—classic New York—but there was something warm about the kitchen. Safe. Familiar. Even with the quiet ache in your chest that you were pretending wasn’t there.

You kept chopping. So did he. Or tried to.

“Y’know,” Bob said after a beat, holding up a mutilated chunk of bell pepper, “I don’t think I’m ever gonna be a culinary genius. Might have to accept that my gifts lie elsewhere.”

“Like sitting on the couch and watching TV?”

“And comic relief,” he added proudly. “Two very underappreciated superpowers.”

You gave him a sidelong look, smirking. “You’re not wrong.”

He grinned. Then, more softly, “I like this, though. Being part of a team. Even if it’s weird sometimes. Even if people yell. Or punch through walls. Or if Alexei keeps pitching us matching uniforms with capes.”

You snorted again, setting down your knife. “He has been obsessed with that lately.”

“Right?” Bob said, picking at a cucumber slice. “But even with all the chaos, it’s good. I never really had this before. A group. People who give a damn. Who check in. It’s like… like being part of a weird, violent little family. And I know I’m not the most… stable, but I feel like—like I’m seen. Cared for. Loved, even. Not in the romantic sense—though Walker did call me ‘acceptable’ once, which I’m counting as progress.”

You laughed softly again—but it was different this time. Quieter. Shorter.

Bob didn’t seem to notice.

He kept talking, absently stacking pepper pieces into a leaning tower. “I don’t know. It just hit me earlier when Alexei dragged me to look at fabric swatches, and he was complaining about the thread count like we were planning a wedding. I was like… this is insane. But also—this is nice. Like I matter. Like I belong.”

The sting started slow. So faint you barely noticed it at first.

A tightness behind your eyes. A pull at the corners of your mouth. Something twisting low in your stomach like a warning bell you were trying very hard to ignore.

Bob looked over at you with an easy smile, still speaking, voice gentler now. “I guess I just wanted to say… I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I get to be around people who give a damn. That’s why I love being on this team.”

And just like that—it cracked.

The sting sharpened. The pressure behind your eyes pulsed hot, and your throat closed up around the sudden, suffocating weight of it.

Because all you could think was:

God, I want that too.

To feel loved. Chosen. Not just useful when someone needed to blow off steam. Not just fucked behind closed doors and forgotten in the light of day.

You bit the inside of your cheek hard, forcing yourself to blink fast, to keep your head down, to move your hands like nothing was wrong. But the tears came anyway—silent, slow, slipping down your cheeks before you could stop them.

You tried to wipe them away subtly, turning toward the sink, pretending to rinse your hands. But it wasn’t subtle enough.

“Whoa—oh no,” Bob said, his eyes going wide. “Did I—did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head quickly, facing away. “No. No, it’s not you. I swear.”

He stood up beside you, hovering awkwardly, clearly panicking. “Is it the peppers? I knew I was butchering them. I knew they looked sad but I didn’t think they were tear-worthy—”

A shaky laugh broke out of you, even as you tried to wipe your face. “Bob, no. Stop. It’s not your fault.”

He hesitated, frowning deeply, hands fidgeting at his sides. “Is it—do you want me to go? I didn’t mean to mess anything up—”

You turned to him, eyes red, cheeks wet, and smiled—small and painful.

“I just… needed to hear that,” you said softly. “What you said. About being seen. Cared for. Loved.”

Bob’s face softened immediately. “Oh. Oh. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said again, shaking your head, voice barely a whisper now. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He reached out, then hesitated, then finally rested a hand gently on your hand. “For what it’s worth… I think whoever’s making you feel like you’re not those things is an idiot.”

You gave him a wobbly smile, another tear slipping free. “Yeah.”

Bob didn’t ask more. He didn’t need to. And you were grateful for that.

Instead, he just stood with you in the quiet hum of the kitchen, as the smell of dinner simmered in the background and the sky outside darkened to evening.

And all you could think—over and over—was:

I can’t do this anymore.

The second the quinjet touched down, Bucky unbuckled and stood, impatient fingers already tugging off his gloves. He barely registered Yelenas's debrief, or the way Ava elbowed him and muttered something about getting sleep for once. He just nodded and walked out, barely hearing her call after him.

He didn’t want sleep.

He wanted you.

He’d been thinking about you the entire mission. About the way you always curled up on the couch when you thought no one was watching. The way you’d made blueberry muffins the morning before they left and snuck him one while everyone else was busy fighting over the coffee machine. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled—just for him.

No one had to know.

No one did know.

And that made it easier to pretend this wasn’t killing him.

That this wasn’t something he wanted every damn day.

He reached your hallway before he even realized how fast he’d been walking. It was late—11:07 by the glowing red digits on the hallway clock. Most of the tower was asleep. But your light was still on.

He exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders back, nerves flaring. He always got like this before seeing you. Like some teenager with a crush instead of a 100-year-old ex-assassin who’d watched entire countries fall.

But you made him feel… different. Human.

He raised his hand and knocked, soft and firm.

And then the door opened—and there you were.

A soft lime green nightgown hugged your body in a way that made his breath catch. It clung to your curves, all sleepy and ethereal and warm, and for a second, all he could do was look at you.

His chest ached.

God, you were beautiful.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t think. He reached out, cupping your face in both hands, drawing you in like a man starved for warmth and memory. His lips found yours—soft, reverent, desperate. He kissed you like you were the last safe thing he had.

And then your hands pressed against his chest.

Not pulling him closer.

Pushing him away.

He pulled back, blinking. His brows knit together. “What’s wrong?”

You looked up at him, eyes already glossy, mouth parted like the words hurt too much to say. “Bucky… we need to stop.”

His stomach dropped.

The hallway suddenly felt ice cold.

“What?” His voice cracked, quiet and rough. “What do you mean?”

You looked down, fingers curling into the fabric of your nightgown, and stepped back just slightly. “What we’ve been doing… this… it needs to end.”

It hit him like a punch to the ribs. All the breath knocked from his lungs.

“I—I don’t understand,” he said. “Did I do something? Say something? If I—”

“No,” you cut in gently, and it broke him how kind your voice still was. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why?” He was still holding your gaze, desperate. “Is it… is it someone else?”

You hesitated.

That was enough of an answer.

You nodded once. “I’ve… met someone. And this would complicate things.”

The lie hung between you like smoke. Fragile. Choking.

Bucky swallowed hard. His hands had dropped to his sides, and he clenched them into fists before forcing them open again. He was trying to stay calm. He had no right to be angry. You weren’t his.

You’d never been his.

But still, the ache that bloomed in his chest was unbearable. His heart was thundering, cracking in real time as he stared at you, unblinking.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you that no one could touch you the way he could. That no one could possibly know you the way he did. He wanted to grab you, beg you not to leave him in the dark again.

But he didn’t.

Because you deserved better than that.

You always had.

He cleared his throat, voice suddenly hoarse and distant. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

You blinked at him, a flicker of pain crossing your face. Then you leaned in, so gently it almost made him flinch, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Soft. Final.

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

You stepped back inside your room.

And the door closed.

He stood there for a long time.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Just stared at the closed door like he could will it to open again. Like maybe if he stayed still long enough, this wouldn’t be real.

But it was.

And all he could think was:

You found someone else.

You—the one person who made him feel like maybe he wasn’t ruined. Who baked for the team. Who held him after nightmares without asking questions. Who looked at him like he wasn’t just the Winter Soldier, or some washed-up relic, or some broken man with too much blood on his hands.

You looked at him like he was worth something.

And now you were gone.

He backed away slowly, footsteps hollow against the corridor floor, heart pounding like it was trying to claw its way out.

It was just supposed to be sex.

It was never supposed to hurt like this.

It started small.

You weren’t avoiding Bucky—not outright. But you were pulling away, and he felt it in every single subtle shift like a blade under the skin.

No more soft smiles in the hallway.

No more plates quietly set in front of him when you made dinner.

You still said “hey” in passing, still nodded when he entered the room, still asked if he wanted coffee when the whole team was around—but your eyes didn’t linger anymore. You didn’t touch him. You didn’t look at him the same way.

And that quiet, gentle retreat was worse than a clean break.

Because it gave him just enough to hope. And not enough to hold.

It drove him mad.

He tried to play it cool. Tried to remind himself that you’d made your choice—that you’d moved on. That there was someone else. But the words haunted him like a ghost he couldn’t punch, couldn’t outpace.

Who the fuck was he?

Where did you meet him?

Was he better than Bucky? Was that it?

Was he stable, normal, sweet? Did he hold you in the morning, trace your spine with soft fingers, kiss your forehead and mean it?

The thoughts ran wild in his mind like wildfire. And soon, it stopped being curiosity. It became need. Obsessive. All-consuming.

He started watching. Not you—he couldn’t stomach how far away you already felt. No, he watched everyone else.

Was it someone on the team?

Someone new?

Someone from missions? The tower? That goddamn bar you liked downtown?

He noticed every time you laughed at someone else’s joke. Every time you left a room too quickly. Every time your phone lit up and your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. It was driving him insane.

And it didn’t take long before he cracked.

──────────────────

“Seen her with anyone lately?”

Ava didn’t look up from the security feed she was reviewing. “What?”

He cleared his throat, leaned against the console like this wasn’t eating him alive. “Y’know. She’s been… out more. Wondered if you’d noticed her with someone.”

Ava gave him a look that said you have five seconds before I tear this conversation apart with a crowbar. “She’s not a suspect, Barnes.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “Didn’t mean it like that. Just—wondered.”

She paused. “You checking up on her?”

He shrugged. “Just being observant.”

“Then observe your own damn lane,” she muttered, turning back to her screen. “She’s allowed to have a life.”

──────────────────

The next day, he tried John.

“Any idea who she’s been seeing?”

Walker blinked at him, halfway through microwaving a bowl of instant mac and cheese in the lounge. “She told you she’s seeing someone?”

“Yeah.”

John stirred his pasta slowly. “Huh.”

Bucky waited.

John shrugged. “I mean, good for her, I guess.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “That’s not helpful.”

“Neither is asking around like a jealous ex.” He looked up. “You okay, man?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky snapped.

John gave him a long look, then went back to his mac and cheese.

──────────────────

Yelena was less gentle.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, one eyebrow raised as she watched him pace the kitchen while you chatted with Bob across the room.

“No.”

“Then you sound like a madman.” She sipped her tea. “You are obsessed.”

“I’m just—”

“You had her,” she interrupted, calm and sharp as a knife. “You had her when it counted. And now you’re circling like a lonely wolf because someone else has her?”

“You knew about us?“

“I am a literal spy, Bucky.”

“I just don’t know who it is.”

“You’re not entitled to know,” she said simply, and walked away.

──────────────────

Alexei was worse.

“She has mystery man, huh?” he said, delighted, cracking open a beer like they were old pals trading war stories. “Ah, young love! Reminds me of my fourth love—no, fifth. It was confusing time. She had beautiful thighs. We met during a snowstorm, and she carried me to safety like bear.”

Bucky stared at him, hollow-eyed.

Alexei clapped a massive hand on his shoulder. “You cannot compete with new love, my friend. It is fire. It is danger. But! Sometimes fire burns out. And when it does, you be there with flowers. Or your shirt off. Both work.”

Bucky did not thank him.

──────────────────

And then there was Bob.

Goddamn Bob.

Bucky cornered him while he was grabbing cookies from the kitchen. Big mistake number two. He tried to sound as casual as possible.

“So, uh. You and her hang out sometimes, right?”

Bob blinked, brow furrowing. “Uh… yeah? She’s awesome.”

“She’s been acting different. With me.”

Bob fidgeted, clutching a cookie like a shield. “I mean, she’s been normal with me. Maybe a little sad? But also like, really pretty. But she’s always pretty, so that’s—uh—not relevant.”

Bucky stepped closer. Bob stepped back, hitting the counter.

“I was joking, Bucky. Please don’t punch me.”

Bucky took a deep breath, backed off. “Sorry.”

He didn’t mean to scare him.

He just couldn’t take it anymore.

──────────────────

It didn’t help. None of it did.

Because no one knew—or if they did, they weren’t telling.

And every time he saw you, something inside him twisted.

The way you laughed with Ava over your shared playlist. The way you sat on the arm of the couch next to John during a debrief. The way you ruffled Bob’s hair like a big sister, patient and teasing.

He saw you with everyone.

And he didn’t know which of them you were fucking.

Which of them made you smile when you looked at your phone.

Which of them got to hold you the way he used to—like you were theirs.

And it was killing him.

He started losing sleep. His nights were spent pacing his room, replaying every kiss, every laugh, every small moment with you. He couldn’t go to the kitchen without thinking of you cooking in it. Couldn’t walk by your room without hearing your voice.

Because the truth was, he hadn’t stopped wanting you.

Not for a second.

But he hadn’t thought he deserved you.

He’d told himself it was better this way. That he couldn’t be what you needed. That he was too broken, too guarded, too haunted.

He didn’t want to drag you into his shadows.

But now you were in someone else’s light.

And Bucky Barnes—super soldier, ex-Winter Soldier, world-class killer—was unraveling.

One glance. One silence. One laugh that wasn’t his to earn.

At a time.

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since that night at your door. Since you told him you were seeing someone. Since your lips brushed his cheek like a goodbye that had already been decided, like the end of a story he hadn’t realized was even being written.

And still—no one.

Not a name. Not a face. Not even a damn clue.

No late-night laughter through thin walls. No footsteps sneaking down hallways. No signs of you sneaking off to a date. You still had the same quiet routines. The same soft smile when Bob told one of his nervous jokes. The same stretch in the mornings when you walked into the kitchen with sleepy eyes and socks that didn’t match.

But different.

He still watched you.

Not like before—when he’d admire the slope of your shoulders, the way your nose scrunched when you were concentrating, or how your hands always smelled faintly like vanilla and cinnamon. No, now he watched you with something closer to desperation.

He was trying to catch you.

Catch you in a lie. Catch you with him. The one who apparently meant enough to end everything you and Bucky had.

But nothing ever happened.

Instead, he saw things that confused him more.

You started going out on your own more often—midday errands, little walks, solo grocery runs even though there was food delivery and team shoppers. And he followed once.

Not to spy, he told himself.

Just to know.

You walked into a bookstore first. Wandered the aisles slowly. Bought two paperbacks and left without speaking to anyone. Then you stopped by a florist—picked out a single bouquet of fresh lilies, something subtle and quiet.

He expected you to deliver it to someone.

But instead, you brought it back to the tower and placed it on the dining table. Just something to brighten the space, like you always did.

You went to the park next. Sat on a bench. Ate a pastry. Fed the ducks.

Alone.

He watched from across the street, feeling something cold settle in his chest.

When you returned, he waited a few hours before asking Yelena—casually, as he always did, which fooled absolutely no one anymore.

“You know where she went today?”

Yelena raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “She went to clear her head. Like normal people.”

“Not with anyone?”

“Do you think she is incapable of being alone? Because that says more about you, Barnes.”

He didn’t answer.

He stopped asking questions after that.

Because it was dawning on him—slowly, painfully, in pieces—that there was no “someone else.” There never had been.

You hadn’t lied to hurt him. You’d lied to protect yourself.

And he had made you feel like you had to.

The thought made him sick.

He started noticing more, then—not just your absence, but the echo of what used to be. How you still made muffins for the team on Mondays. How you always passed out Advil after training. How you left soft music playing in the kitchen while cooking like you didn’t know anyone was listening. How you still took care of everyone except yourself.

He noticed how tired you looked sometimes. How your smile faltered when no one was looking. How your laugh had a hollow note now—like it had to fight its way out.

He noticed how you stopped meeting his eyes entirely.

And he finally asked himself what he had been to you.

Not just the sex. Not just the soft groans in the dark or the way your body curved into his like you were made for him.

But the mornings.

The muffins.

The hand you placed on his back after nightmares.

The way you listened when no one else could see he was slipping.

The way you waited—patient, hopeful—for something more from him.

And he hadn’t given it.

Not because he didn’t want to.

Because he thought he couldn’t.

He had told himself he wasn’t ready. That he was too broken. That he would only ruin something good and pure if he touched it too deeply. But the truth was, he’d already touched it. You had given him your heart in small, quiet ways, and he hadn’t even noticed until it was gone.

And now you were hurting, silently, because of him. Because you’d fallen for someone who told you not to. And he’d let you think he didn’t feel the same.

Until now.

He couldn’t sit still.

He’d tried. For two days. Two full fucking days since the realization broke through him like a goddamn lightning strike—and he’d tried to be patient. Tried to breathe. Tried to think.

But he wasn’t thinking anymore.

He was moving.

Searching.

Every room. Every hallway. The kitchen, the gym, your room—empty. He was spinning, chest tight, mouth dry, pacing like an addict itching for a fix, until finally—

Laughter.

The living room.

His boots hit the floor fast. He rounded the corner and stopped.

You were there. On the couch.

You, Bob, and Yelena.

Golden Girls was playing—Dorothy mid-quip, the volume just low enough to keep conversation alive. You were laughing, body relaxed, tucked into the corner with a blanket over your legs and a mug in your hand.

And he didn’t hesitate.

He walked straight in. Right past Bob’s curious look. Right past Yelena’s raised brow.

Straight to you.

You looked up immediately, your smile faltering when you saw his face. The tension in his shoulders. The storm in his eyes.

“Bucky?” you asked, sitting up. “Are you okay—?”

“I think I love you.”

It spilled out of him like it had been waiting behind his teeth for weeks.

You blinked.

Bob’s mouth dropped open mid-sip.

Yelena turned fully toward him, brows lifted to her hairline.

He didn’t care.

“No—” Bucky swallowed hard. “No, that’s not right. I know I love you.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, lips parted slightly. Stunned.

Bucky’s heart pounded against his ribs, chest tight and burning. “I know it’s not the way I should’ve told you. And I know I don’t—fuck, I don’t deserve to say it after everything I didn’t say before. But I need you to hear me now.”

You still didn’t say anything. Just stared.

Then your hand twitched. Slid to your opposite arm.

And you started pinching your skin.

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What… what are you doing?”

Your voice was breathy, soft. “Trying to wake up.”

“What?”

“I’m pinching myself,” you said, barely louder than a whisper. “Trying to wake up. Because there’s no way this is actually happening.”

Bucky felt something in him break.

He took a shaky breath, stepping closer, dropping to his knees in front of you. His voice was rough but steady now.

“It’s real. I swear to you, it’s real.”

You stared at him like he was a ghost. Like he wasn’t allowed to be saying this.

“I’ve been losing my mind,” he continued, voice cracking slightly. “Thinking there was someone else. Trying to believe you’d moved on because it was easier than facing the truth.”

You swallowed hard, but didn’t speak.

“And the truth is—I was scared.” He laughed, humorless, shaking his head. “I thought I wasn’t enough. That I’d mess it up. That I couldn’t give you what you deserve.”

He looked up at you now, eyes wide, glassy.

“But then I realized… you are what I deserve. You’re everything. You’re the reason this damn place feels like home. You cook for us even when no one thanks you. You remember everyone’s coffee orders. You make playlists for Bob and knit Ava a goddamn scarf even though she acts like she doesn’t care. You bake when you’re anxious, and I fucking love when you bake. You hum when you clean. You take care of everyone and let yourself break when no one’s looking.”

He reached up, brushing your arm where you’d been pinching.

“And I didn’t see it. Not really. Not until it was too late.”

A beat.

Then, softly—“But maybe it’s not too late.”

Yelena had stopped breathing. Bob looked like he might cry. But none of them mattered right now.

Just you.

Bucky’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. But I know it now. And I’m not running from it anymore.”

You didn’t say anything for a long moment.

Just looked down at him.

And your eyes… your eyes were full.

You couldn’t breathe.

He was on his knees in front of you, staring up with those wide, heartbreak-blue eyes, his voice still echoing in your ears like a song you hadn’t heard in years but somehow still knew all the words to.

I love you.

And now he was waiting—watching—like his whole world depended on what you were going to say next.

Your throat felt thick. Your heart was pounding so hard you were surprised no one else could hear it. You blinked fast, trying to keep your vision clear, but the tears were already threatening to fall.

You stared at him for a long moment, lips trembling, and whispered, “Promise me this isn’t a dream.”

Bucky’s breath caught. He reached up, brushing your cheek so gently it made your chest ache. “It’s not,” he said, voice wrecked. “It’s not, baby. I swear.”

And then you saw the moment he broke.

The last thread of restraint snapped, and suddenly he was rising—leaning in, closing the space between you before you could even think.

His lips met yours, soft and trembling at first—almost reverent—then deeper, hungrier, like he couldn’t bear to hold back another second. You gasped into his mouth, one hand flying to his jaw, the other looping around his neck, pulling him in like you were afraid he might vanish.

He groaned against you, like the sound of your mouth opening for him undid something inside him.

And then he climbed onto the couch, practically on top of you, bracing one knee beside your hip as he leaned down, his hands burying themselves in your hair. Your back hit the cushions, breath caught in your throat, and the world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the feel of his body pressed into yours, the desperate, perfect weight of him finally, finally there.

His thumb stroked the line of your jaw as he kissed you again, deeper now, and you let yourself sink into it. Into him.

Until—

“…Guys?” Yelena’s voice cut in, dry and deeply unimpressed. “We are still here.”

You froze.

Bucky pulled back just slightly, resting his forehead to yours, his lips still hovering over yours, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run ten miles. You were both breathless, giddy, flushed.

“I forgot they were here,” you whispered, blinking up at him.

“Me too,” he said, smiling against your cheek.

From the other end of the couch, Bob cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Sooo… should we leave now?”

“No,” Yelena snapped immediately. “We were here first. This was very sweet two minutes ago, and now it’s making me deeply uncomfortable.”

You laughed into Bucky’s shoulder, muffling the sound.

He just chuckled and kissed your temple before whispering, “Still not a dream, I swear.”

You smiled up at him, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like something you had to fake.

It felt real.

Because it was.

5K notes · View notes

spiderwebbedhearts · 1 month ago

Text

this concept is everything omg

so pretty with a knife in your hand

pairing: serial killer!steve rogers x accomplice!reader

summary: you lure a man out of the club by pretending to be drunk, but instead of taking you home, he falls right into your trap and winds up in the clutches of your serial killer boyfriend. for you and steve, though, it's just another date night.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), dark themes and elements, violence, murder of original male character, references to rape and sexual assault, victim blaming language, misogyny, abduction, torture, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut, enthusiastic consent, fingering, blood play, choking, degradation, praise kink, piv sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, aftercare

word count: 5.3k

a/n: day 13 of my 30 day writing trope challenge was partner in crime. i was a little stumped on this one but then i had this idea—inspired by the movie promising young woman—and it took me a couple days to actually finish it because i've been so busy. but anyway this fic's a lot darker than the ones i typically write, and i'm not sure i pulled it off, especially steve and reader's motivations as killers, but idk! would love any and all feedback!! hope y'all enjoy!!

You deliberately stumbled over your own feet, wobbling in your high stiletto heels and leaning harder on the man who was leading you out the front door of the club in an effort to make your performance as a drunk girl all the more believable. Not that it mattered, the guy—Ronald or Roy or something—wasn’t paying as close attention to you ever since you agreed to let him help you get home. He had no idea you were far more sober than he was, and that you had no intention of letting him anywhere near your home.

On the sidewalk outside, Ronald tried to lead you toward the bank of cabs waiting for drunk clubgoers, but there was already a mob of people fighting over them. “Let’s go this way,” you slurred, veering away from the crowd on purposefully unsteady feet. “We’ll find a cab easier over here,” you said, tugging on Ronald’s arm until he followed your “drunken” stumbling around the block to a more deserted street. It was so narrow it was almost an alley and there was already a car waiting by the curb.

Ronald didn’t find this strange. He just started leading you toward it. You had to duck your head so he wouldn’t see you roll your eyes. Men could be so fucking stupid when they thought they were going to get laid.

An imposing figure rose from the driver’s seat of the car, but the blond man smiled charmingly at Ronald, easily putting the guy on your arm at ease. “Hey man, need help getting her in the car?” he asked in a friendly tone.

“Yeah, that’d be great—she’s so drunk she’s practically passed out,” Ronald said with a laugh and you almost shuddered at the glee in his tone, but managed to hold it back. Instead, you let your head loll against his shoulder, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly. You had to fight a grimace when you got a whiff of Ronald—he smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and if you’d actually been drunk, the smell probably would’ve made you sick.

Thankfully, the driver hauled you out of Ronald’s greedy grasp. “Looks like you folks had a fun night,” he commented in that same friendly tone. When he turned his back on Ronald to open the door to the backseat, you opened your eyes and looked up into the familiar face of your boyfriend Steve Rogers, shooting him a quick smirk. He returned your look with a wink and then gestured at you with his chin. Reading the signal accurately, you went limp in his arms, pretending to finally pass out.

As Steve manhandled you into the backseat of the car, you heard Ronald comment from the sidewalk, “Yeah, and the night’s only gonna get more fun when we get home, if you know what I mean.” The suggestive tone in Ronald’s voice made it clear to both you and Steve exactly what the asshole meant. He meant he planned on using you when, for all he knew, you were passed out drunk.

Steve’s big hands flexed angrily around your waist and when you cracked your eyes open just enough to get a look at your boyfriend’s face, it was twisted into a furious expression. Out of sight of Ronald, you put your hand over one of Steve’s and squeezed it soothingly, shaking your head minutely so as not to draw attention from the man on the curb.

Your warning got through to Steve, cutting through the haze of fury that had descended over his blue eyes. His big body relaxed and he wrangled that friendly smile of his back onto his face. There was a new edge to it, but you were sure Ronald wouldn’t notice. Steve finished tucking you into the seat and withdrew from the car, standing up to his full height.

“I know exactly what you mean, man,” Steve replied, and if you weren’t supposed to be playing the drunk girl, you’d have kicked him for the edge of menace in his tone. Thankfully, Ronald was too stupid and eager to get you home to notice. “Your girl must be super kinky, letting you fuck her while she’s passed out like that,” Steve commented, his voice lighter, but you’d known Steve a long time and you could hear the danger lurking in his words.

Ronald just laughed. “Nah man, she’s not my girl—just some drunk slut I met at the club,” he said, then leaned into Steve and dropped his voice like he was going to tell the blond man a secret. “But what she doesn’t remember can’t hurt her, right?” You couldn’t see from your spot in the backseat of the car, but you could just hear the smarmy grin on Ronald’s face as he spoke.

There was a sudden shift in the air and you knew Steve was tensing with anger. You were so attuned to each other, you could read his moods—it was the only way you could be successful at doing what you and Steve did. For a moment, you considered breaking character, worried Steve might do something to Ronald on the side street where anyone could stumble upon the scene. But just as fast as the current of anger appeared, it dissipated.

Steve let out a rough chuckle that you could tell was forced, but you knew Ronald wouldn’t be able to notice. “Right, right,” Steve forced out, returning to his friendly act, though you knew he was about to go off script and it took all your self control not to react. “Hey if she’s not your girl, you mind if I cop a feel? Since she wouldn’t mind and all.”

Ronald laughed loud, the sound sending a creeped out shiver down your spine. “Nah, go ahead, I’m gonna take a leak,” he said, and you could hear his shoes scuffle away on the sidewalk, then the unmistakable sound of his fly being undone.

You expected Steve to use the perfect opportunity Ronald had presented to incapacitate the man, but instead he turned and ducked his head and shoulders into the car. When you opened your eyes to see what he was doing, you found your boyfriend’s face twisted up with a mixture of fury and excitement.

Before you could ask him why he was deviating from the plan, Steve shoved his big hand up under the skirt of your dress, forcing your thighs apart and gripping your cunt tight, squeezing your soft flesh until you let out a surprised cry. Holding your gaze while his blue eyes blazed wildly, he ground his palm against your pussy, rubbing your clit ruthlessly. “That’s for picking up the scummiest prick in the club, sweetheart,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to be a reward or a punishment, but you enjoyed it enough that a throaty moan fell from your lips. Steve’s hand kept relentlessly grinding against your slit for another moment. Then he pulled away from between your thighs and stood up, leaving you panting and so fucking needy, you felt almost drunk on your desire.

It took Ronald’s awful laugh to douse the flames of the arousal you felt, your pussy drying up at the sound of the guy who disgusted you.

“Toldja she was a slut, man,” Ronald crowed, shuffling back toward the car. “Thanks for getting her ready for me, might need to use her mouth on the ride home—you don’t mind, do ya, man?”

You could hear Ronald rounding the back of the car as he spoke and you couldn’t resist the urge to crane your neck and peek out the back window over the seats. Ronald had his back to Steve, so he had no idea what was coming. You watched with vicious delight as Steve raised the tire iron he’d grabbed from the floor of the backseat when he’d been putting you in the car and brought it down hard on the back of Ronald’s head. The impact made a dull, sick thudding sound that brought a smile to your face. Ronald collapsed to the ground.

With quick, practiced hands, Steve popped the trunk of the car and hauled Ronald up, dumping the man’s limp, unconscious body unceremoniously inside before shutting it. While Steve was busy with Ronald, you shut the backseat car door and crawled into the front passenger seat. You were just buckling your seatbelt when your boyfriend slid into the driver’s seat and within seconds, you and Steve were driving off into the night, intent on making sure Ronald never bothered anyone ever again.

You loved watching Steve work. When he backhanded Ronald so hard he knocked the man awake, you giggled. Your boyfriend turned to shoot you a grin, enjoying the sight of you sitting on the workbench of the small basement, swinging your legs and looking pretty for him. Steve’s eyes raked over your body—still clad in the short, body-clinging dress you’d worn to the club—and heated at the sight of you.

Ronald’s pained moan reminded both you and Steve of his presence. The creep of a man was tied to a chair in the middle of the basement of the abandoned house you’d located just outside the city. There wasn’t much to the room, just the workbench, some rotted wooden shelves against the back wall and the chair in the middle of the floor, all lit by the single, uncovered lightbulb fitted into the low ceiling. The best part about it was the house was in a nearly deserted neighborhood so there was no one around to hear Ronald’s screams. You grinned wickedly, thinking about how the man would scream.

Fear was plain as day on Ronald’s face as his eyes swiveled around in his head, taking in the dank and dusty basement, you perched on the abandoned workbench littered with rusty tools and, finally, Steve prowling towards him in his gray t-shirt and dark jeans. Ronald seemed to know right away who the greatest threat in the room was, and he looked up at Steve with a desperation on his face.

“Please, man, whatever I did to you, I’m sorry,” Ronald begged, his voice going high-pitched and pathetic. From your spot on the workbench, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh Ronnie,” Steve tsked, one of his hands slipping into the pocket of his jeans; when it reappeared, it was decorated with some shiny brass knuckles. They’d been a gift from you, of course, and Steve treasured them. His grin was a violent slash across his face as he cocked his fist and punched the man. The cracking of bone breaking filled the small, dark room. “You shouldn’t be begging me for absolution,” Steve continued, ignoring the way Ronald moaned with one of his cheeks half caved in. Your boyfriend turned and gestured to you. “You should be begging her.”

Ronald’s eyes somewhat glazed over with pain, but they still managed to be hateful when they landed on you. “What did I ever do to you, bitch,” he spit, blood spattering from his lips and dribbling down his chin.

You hopped off the workbench and strolled toward the man tied to the chair. “It’s not really about what you did, Ronnie,” you said, stepping up to the chair. You raised one stiletto heel in the air and placed your foot on the crotch of Ronald’s pants so the pointed tip hovered over his fragile bits. “Although the way you treated me wasn’t great…” you said, trailing off as you thought of the way he’d been all too happy to let what he’d presumed to be a stranger grope you in the backseat of a car. Your thoughts took a turn for the naughty as you remembered the way Steve had worked your body up only to leave you wet and needy.

Shaking yourself with a visible effort, you refocused on the man in front of you. His eyes were wide and wary, but he didn’t look scared enough, so you pushed your heel into his balls until he yelped and those eyes of his bulged out of his skull a little. “No, Ronnie, it’s not about what you did—it’s about what you were going to do,” you declared, leaning forward until you were in his face. “You were going to rape me.”

Ronald had the nerve to sputter and try to deny it. “No, no, I wasn’t—I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t rape anyone!” he cried out, his eyes bouncing wildly between you and Steve, who was standing just behind your shoulder.

A wave of rage swept over you and you reached out, snatching the collar of Ronald’s shirt and dragging him forward so you could scream in his face, “Fucking an unconscious girl is rape, Ronald!”

“You wanted it!” he shouted, anger edging into his tone. You didn’t appreciate that—Ronald didn’t have the right to get angry.

“Did I?” you demanded, shaking him by his collar. “Or was I a drunk girl asking you for help getting home that you were planning to take advantage of?” You could hear the near-hysterical rage in your voice as you yelled in Ronald’s face and it wasn’t until Steve stepped up behind you, his hands firm on your hips and his chest to your back, that the wild beating of your heart calmed somewhat.

Ronald’s gaze flicked past your face to where Steve was standing behind you. His expression was twisted with rage as he yelled at your boyfriend, “This is entrapment!”

There was a moment of silence as Ronald’s words hung in the air and then Steve chuckled. The sound was low and evil and it sent a flood of something warm sliding down your spine. You straightened and leaned back against your boyfriend, melting into the strong circle of his arms, turning your face to nuzzle into his neck—even as your heel stayed poised above Ronald’s groin.

“You still think you’re getting out of here, don’t you Ronnie?” Steve asked, barely masked humor in his tone. “You still think I’m gonna let you live after the shit you pulled tonight?

Finally—finally—real fear had the color draining from Ronald’s face, and you giggled at the sight. He sputtered, but no words came. You and Steve watched, reveling in the panicked wheezing the creep of a man made as he processed what Steve had said. You both waited patiently for it to sink in, the fact that he was going to die. Eventually, he managed to ask, “But, why?”

You laughed loudly. They always asked why—and it was your favorite part. You had to lean back harder on Steve as your legs threatened to give out from how much you were laughing. It wasn’t until Steve swept your hair over your shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to your neck that you finally settled.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you it’s because we think we’re on a mission from god?” Steve asked, his voice friendly enough, though there was a dark edge to it that had your body warming. Ronald just stared at you both, bewildered.

As he spoke, one of Steve’s hands slid down from your waist and to the hem of your dress. He tugged it up, revealing the knife you had strapped to your thigh. Steve made you wear it in case one of the men you lured got too handsy before you got them close enough to the car that Steve could step in. He pulled the small knife from its sheath and pressed it into your hand.

“Or that we like to punish all those who fail our test?” Steve went on, running his hands all over your body, taunting Ronald. “Or do you want the truth?”

“The truth,” Ronald wheezed, his eyes tracking Steve’s hands. He was so distracted, he didn’t see it coming.

You dropped your stiletto heel to the floor and brought the blade of your knife down, sinking it into Ronald’s leg, just above his knee. The man howled with pain, and you pushed your face close to his, watching the pain and fear blot out all other emotions from his eyes. “That’s for making me smell your disgusting cheap cologne all night,” you muttered as Ronald’s cries died down.

When you turned to Steve, his blue eyes were shining with amusement and delight. He stepped up next to you, gripping your ass in his big hand, the cool metal of his brass knuckles seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. The fingers of his other hand tilted your face up and he dropped a kiss to your lips. “You look so pretty with a knife in your hand, sweetheart,” he murmured for only you to hear.

Grinning, you reached down and pulled the blade from Ronald’s knee, twirling it in your fingers and scattering blood all over you, Steve and the man in the chair. “Thanks Stevie,” you said, giggling softly.

Steve pressed another, harder kiss to your mouth, but pulled away before you could even try to deepen it. “The truth,” he started, turning back to Ronald, who was watching you two with blind terror in his eyes. “Is that we just think it’s fun.”

Ronald blinked once then twice. “What?” he asked stupidly.

“Fun, Ronnie,” you mocked, rolling your eyes. “It’s fun to lure stupid, rapey men like you to their deaths—especially when we’re the ones doing the killing.” You grabbed Ronald’s hand and shoved the blade of your knife through his palm, making the man shout. Tears started leaking from his eyes. “And the torturing.”

“See, my girl likes stabbing stupid, evil men,” Steve went on, explaining what you and him liked to do in your spare time to the man who was about to die. “And I like killing stupid, evil men—and there’s no stupider, more evil man than a man who thinks he’s about to get his dick wet in an unconscious girl.” Steve watched, his blue eyes sparkling as you yanked your knife from Ronald’s hand and shoved it through his shoulder just above his collarbone. “Plus, my girl here loves it when I fuck her covered in the blood of the guy we just killed.”

Ronald was too busy crying and screaming to really hear what Steve was saying, but that didn’t really matter, of course. It’s not like he would live long enough to care what Steve was talking about.

With one final burst of vicious energy, you pulled your knife from Ronald’s shoulder and sunk it deep into the creep’s stomach. He let out a little hiss that was oh so satisfying and you couldn’t help but smile. You grabbed your knife and stepped back, surveying your work.

You’d made sure not to hit anything too vital since Steve liked to be the one to finish them off. Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you fluttered your eyelashes up at your boyfriend, giving him a naughty grin. “He’s all yours, Stevie,” you said sweetly, turning and flouncing back to the workbench. You jumped up and took your original perch, dropping your bloody knife beside you on the wood.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Steve muttered, his eyes intent on Ronald’s face. Steve adjusted the brass knuckles on his fingers before winding his arm back and driving a bone-shattering fist into the man’s jaw. Blood sprayed across the front of Steve’s gray shirt as Ronald’s head whipped to the side.

You could tell from the way his jaw hung at an awkward angle that it was broken, and you laughed, the sound filling the basement. You sat back and grinned as you watched your boyfriend get to work.

Steve rained punch after punch down on Ronald’s face, breaking every single bone in the man’s skull with sickening crunches that filled the small basement. It wasn’t long until the screams and howls of pain tapered off, first replaced with Ronald’s desperate gurgling noises, and then finally nothing. Soon the only sound was that of Steve’s fist hitting wet flesh and bone. Only when Ronald was dead and his face no longer recognizable did Steve stop. The body slumped in the chair.

When Steve turned to you, his blond hair was a mess and his chest was heaving as he breathed heavily. He was sweaty, the biceps of his arms bulging from the effort of beating the life out of a man. Steve’s blue eyes were bright and shining with a wild kind of energy and he had blood spattered across his face and the front of his shirt. He was glorious.

With greedy fingers you reached for your boyfriend and he crossed the space in just a few strides, his bloody hands grabbing your jaw. Steve kissed you hard, his lips sliding against yours and his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth. There was a slight taste of copper on your tongue when he deepened the kiss, but it only turned you on more. Between your thighs, you were wet and needy for your man.

A thunking sound pulled your attention away from Steve, but it was just his brass knuckles dropping onto the wooden workbench next to your bloody knife. They were both dirty and would need cleaning, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about it just then. Not when Steve’s filthy hands were trailing down your body, groping your tits through your dress, his fingers pinching and abusing your nipples as you threw your head back and let debauched moans spill from your lips. Of their own accord, your legs spread for Steve and he stepped between them.

“Suck a fucking slut for me, sweetheart,” he muttered, his hands continuing their perusal of your body while you writhed for him. “Look so fucking good in this dress, but it’s gotta go,” he said a moment before he ripped the garment.

You yelped at the sound of tearing fabric and tilted your head back up to see Steve ripping your dress down the middle until your tits were bared. “Stevie!” you whined. “I liked this dress!” you pouted up at him, but your boyfriend just smirked, the sharp line of his mouth stark against his blood-spattered skin.

“I’ll buy you a new one, sweetheart,” he promised, kissing you once more before trailing his lips down to your chest. He sucked and bit at your nipples until he was leaving little bruises, the marks joining the older, faded ones on your skin. There was something about a kill that made Steve go more than a little feral, but you loved it when he got rough like this.

As he thoroughly abused your nipples with his mouth and teeth, Steve’s hands made quick work of the rest of your dress, ripping it straight down the middle until it hung off you in tatters that he pushed off your shoulders. The only thing left on your body were the panties that stuck to your slick skin between your thighs. You pushed yourself up and Steve slid them down your legs, pocketing the black lace.

Your boyfriend’s bloody fingers slid between your soaked folds, teasing your wet little hole before flicking against your clit. Throwing your head back, you bucked your hips and cried out, wordlessly begging for more.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, circling your entrance with the tips of his fingers, driving you a little wild. “Did it turn you on to watch me kill Ronnie?” his voice was teasing, and it made your core clench down hard around nothing.

“You know it did, Stevie,” you answered breathily.

“I wanna hear you say it,” Steve said, still teasing your pussy, but his blue eyes were intense as he stared at you. “Wanna hear how much of a slut you are for your serial killer boyfriend.”

“I’m such a slut for you, Stevie,” you said on a gasp, catching Steve’s eye and holding it so he’d see you were telling the truth. “I love watching you kill the rapey men I bring to you—makes my pussy so fucking wet to see you kill them.”

“Fuck,” Steve hissed, smashing his lips against yours and kissing you hard enough to bruise. He plunged two fingers into your wet hole, drawing a moan from you that he drank down, not willing to let you break from the kiss. “Need you—need to fuck you,” he muttered when he finally pulled away.

You were breathing hard, but nodded your agreement, your hands already fumbling with the front of his jeans. Your knuckles grazed against the hard bulge there and you moaned, too wild and needy to make any progress on freeing your boyfriend from his pants.

Steve dragged his fingers from your pussy, and pushed your hands out of the way, making quick work of his button and fly. Steve only waited long enough to pull himself from his jeans and give himself a single pump with his fist.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted, wanting him inside you already. He was more than happy to oblige.

Notching the tip of his dick against your hole, Steve pressed forward, sinking inch after inch of his hardness inside your tight, wet heat. He let out a guttural groan as he buried himself inside you, while you moaned, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. When he was sheathed inside you, the head of his cock pressing hard against the very end of you, he let out a heavy breath.

“So fucking tight and perfect,” he murmured, finding your lips for a messy kiss. “Won’t be able to hold back, sweetheart,” he warned in a strained voice. “Gotta fuck your tight little cunt hard.”

You panted and licked up the side of Steve’s neck, tasting blood on your tongue. His big body shuddered in your arms and you smirked with your lips against his ear. “Give it to me, Stevie, want you to fuck me so hard it hurts.”

“That’s my fucking slut,” Steve ground out through a clenched jaw. “Such a perfect, needy little slut.” He pulled back, shoving his hips forward and plunging back inside your pussy with a sharp, hard thrust. You cried out, your lips brushing against his smooth cheek. “Such a filthy, dirty, depraved little slut for me.” He fucked into you, hitting the end of you repeatedly.

Your arms went slack from the pain and pleasure of Steve’s cock railing your tight little hole with no mercy and you slumped back on the workbench, head knocking against the cement wall of the basement. You stared up at Steve as he towered over you, his eyes dark and hooded, his mouth twisted into a feral snarl. His big hands smoothed over your thighs before pushing them wide enough to sting, opening you up for him.

“That’s it, slut, take my fucking cock,” Steve muttered, staring down at his dick disappearing inside you over and over again. When you moaned loudly, his blue eyes flicked up to yours. His grin was practically devilish as he slid his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides. Your pussy gripped his cock in response, like there was a direct line between your throat and your cunt. “So fucking tight when I choke you, sweetheart, it’s almost like you enjoy it.”

Steve fucked into you harder, walking the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain, his hand around your throat starting to cut off your air—all of it making you delirious with ecstasy. All you could do was let out strangled little sounds of bliss, your eyes rolling back in your head and your tongue sticking out over your bottom lip as Steve fucked you dumb.

He laughed huskily. “You do enjoy it, don’t you, slut?” he hissed, bending to curl his body over yours, using the position to pound his cock into your pussy more roughly. “Getting so dumb on my cock, even though I killed a guy right in front of you—fuck, you are so fucking perfect.” Steve’s blue eyes raked over your face with a savage kind of love. It was the only kind he could offer you, and you accepted it gladly.

Your cunt pulsed and fluttered around Steve’s hard cock and you knew you were close. You forced your eyes to focus on the man you loved, your pussy spasming just from the way he was looking at you. A choked moan fell from your lips and you tried to catch Steve’s eye, but he was too engrossed in your body.

Somehow—perhaps because he knew your body almost as well as he knew his own—Steve knew you were close and his still bloody fingers found your clit. He rubbed your sensitive little nub ruthlessly, muttering, “Cum for me, my perfect little slut—cum all over your serial killer boyfriend’s cock like the depraved slut you are,” he ordered in a dark, dirty rasp.

You were gone. Steve’s cock and fingers, his hand around your throat, it was all too much and he sent you hurtling into the abyss of pleasure, the jaws of your orgasm opening wide and swallowing you whole. Your vision blacked out and you were falling, spiralling, tumbling through nothing but bliss. Your arms and legs shook through your orgasm, and it took you long moments to return to your body.

When you did, it was to Steve squeezing your throat harder, making your pussy clamp down on him like a vice. He shoved himself into your hole over and over again, forcing himself inside despite your clenching walls. “Feel so good, sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum,” he muttered as he rutted into you. “So fucking good—fuck!” Steve let out a feral roar as he found his release, plunging deep inside your pussy and letting rope after rope of cum coat your walls.

You moaned softly at the feel of him filling you up, the warmth of his cum spreading through you, leaking out around his thick length. It felt so good, your eyes fluttered shut as your pussy throbbed with another wave of pleasure. After that, you were spent, slumping back against the workbench and wall.

With one last groan, Steve half collapsed on top of you, his hand sliding away from your throat so he could wrap his arms around you. Your own shaky arms went around his shoulders as you both clung to each other. For long moments, you held your boyfriend, his face buried in your neck while your hands threaded through his soft, blond hair. It was a sweet moment and would’ve been a perfect picture of romance if not for the blood still splattering you both.

After a time, Steve gathered you up in his arms and he picked you up off the workbench, carrying you up the stairs of the basement to the first floor. He walked you out a side door of the abandoned house and to the car, opening the passenger seat door before settling you in. He tucked a blanket in around your nude body before placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Rest, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of the body and then we can go home.”

A sleepy smile curved your lips and you cracked your eyes open to look up into the handsome face of your boyfriend. You freed a hand from the blanket and cupped his jaw in your palm. “Thank you for tonight,” you said, tilting your face up for another kiss. Steve indulged you with a smile. “Love you, Stevie,” you murmured softly, relaxing back against the seat.

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Love you, too.” Then he shut the car door softly and turned around, heading back into the house to dispose of Ronald’s body.

After all, if Steve wanted to make sure he stayed your serial killer boyfriend—and eventually became your serial killer husband—he had to make sure he never got caught. And there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen, not when he’d finally found the perfect partner in crime.

⫸⫸30 Day Writing Trope Challenge Masterlist⫷⫷

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spiderwebbedhearts · 1 month ago

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woww this was just insaneee I would never have expected that ending with Tony's confrontation, but I'm really hoping it leads somewhere, and I'm really wondering what'll happen with bucky 😔😔I'm sure she'll be punished for that too

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝟐

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, slight dd/lg undertones, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, physical violence, injuries, descriptions of injuries of a sexual nature, misogyny, heavy mentions of blood, possibly inaccurate medical information, mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), rough oral (m receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve plays the part of Captain America to perfection. But behind closed doors, he unleashes all his darkness on you.

𝐀/𝐍: This is a sequel to The Captain's Reward. Reminder to PLEASE read the warnings very very carefully. This is a VERY dark story. Dead dove don't eat. Please consider this a warning. If this isn't your cup of tea, just scroll. To everyone else, enjoy.

Steve doesn’t think there’s another girl in this entire universe who’s as beautiful as you. As sweet, innocent and pretty as you. And, he thinks as he licks as lips hungrily, there’s certainly no one else in this world as fragile and weak and helpless as you are at this very moment. All because of him.

He watches you attempt to hobble your way to the bathroom, his face concealed of any emotion. But he feels a pang of amusement when you grab his dresser to try and balance yourself. It’s cute, that look of determination on your face, the hope you undoubtedly have inside you that you could possibly reach the bathroom on your own two feet. Of course, you couldn’t. Steve had made sure of that.

An entire night of relentless fucking. And Steve hadn’t broken a single sweat. You, on the other hand, had screamed, cried, fought and passed out – and that had all been within the first hour. After that, you’d grown more docile. A broken look had settled behind your eyes as you’d been powerless against him whilst he’d defiled your body in almost every way imaginable. There had been moments where your fire had returned and you’d started fighting back again – and Steve had taken great pleasure in putting you back in your place each time you did that.

Now, you wail in frustration, falling back down on the king-sized bed with a cute thump. Steve almost smirks. He knows you’re in no condition to walk – not when your legs won’t stop shaking and you’re still bleeding. And sure, maybe he should’ve called the physician about twelve hours ago, but you were way too delectable to neglect for even a second. He wanted to savour your loveliness some more, ruin you a little more, break you down just a little more before the doctor examines you.

And then he’d do it all over again because he deserved to.

“Two agents will be here shortly to help you get ready.” Steve says finally.

Your head whips over in his direction, and he loves how your entire body jumps when he speaks to you. He knows he still holds that authority over you, that special importance that only a man of Steve’s calibre could possess. Despite the fact that he’s undoubtedly the villain in your eyes, which he doesn’t give a single fuck about. He knows deep down you still hold him in high regard – after all, he was an important, respected government figure. A hero. Your saviour. And you? You were just a dumb little girl.

“G-Get ready?” You squeak.

Steve feels his dick harden again – not that it had ever gone fully soft to begin with. He doubts he’ll ever not be hard in your presence ever again. Not when you were so deliciously sweet and broken and cute right in front of him.

“Your family has sent a bag of your belongings. The agents will help you get ready so the physician can see you.” Steve says, keeping his voice level and emotionless.

He can practically see your heart lurch up to your throat as you sit up even straighter.

“My family? They know I’m here? A-Are they coming to get me?”

This time, Steve allows himself to smirk freely, ever-amused by the tiny bit of hope in your voice.

“They know. And they happily provided my agents a bag of your belongings once they were informed that you were under my care, and will be for the foreseeable future.” His tone is smooth and calculated, knowing this information will hurt you. Of course, being Captain America had its perks – including the undying love and adoration that regular civilians like your parents had for him. They’d been happy that Steve had plucked you up and wanted to keep you. As they should be, because they knew what was best for you.

Your face crumples like a piece of paper, and the now familiar sight of your sweet tears as they glisten down your cheeks gets Steve even harder. Fuck, all he really wants to do is grab you, push you back down on his bed and fuck the living daylights out of you again. You were such a goddamned baby, crying your eyes out like a little fucking girl because your mommy and daddy didn’t give enough of a fuck about you to save you from the big bad wolf.

Well, you were young after all. At some point during the previous night, in between the animalistic fucking and the touching, he’d had you beneath him. Kissing the life out of you because he couldn’t get enough of your salty sweet lips, and the taste of your pure submission. “How old are you?” He’d asked.

You’d told him, in that sexy breathless whisper of yours, the one that let him know that you were half scared, and half overwhelmed with the pleasure he was drawing out of your body. Between pretty gasps and some more kisses, his tongue probing your mouth whilst he’d lazily fingered you (a short reprieve for you both before he’d inevitably fuck you again, over and over again all night). You’d told him you had one year left of college, how you were so close to graduating.

And that was exactly why you were so perfect for Steve – someone young and pretty and innocent like a little flower, someone he could defile over and over again. Someone with which he could let his inner darkness take over, and then watch while you cried your little baby tears as he put you through everything he deserved to put you through.

“Th-They don’t care?” You sputter now, hiccupping and crying like it’s the end of the goddamned world that your parents hadn’t given more of a fuck about you, and Steve relishes every second of it.

“They know what’s best for you.” He rises to his feet and fixes his tie. He’d woken up and gotten ready hours before you, as he’d had a press conference to attend. Of course, the first thing he’d done in the morning was fuck your sleeping body, nestling his fat dick between your peachy-warm ass and taking your tight, broken little pussy one last time before he had to go. You’d woken up with a start, crying and trying to fight him off with renewed vigour, but he’d had you settled down on his dick soon enough. Clearly, since he’d gotten you off three times before he’d unloaded inside you, revelling in the sound of your sobs.

He'd gone on to stand on a podium at the press conference and give a speech about HYDRA’s attack at your university yesterday. How, thanks to him and the Avengers, there had been no casualties. Not a single life lost. He’d received a hero’s welcome from the general public, with reporters scrambling to ask him question after question on how brave he’d been, how countless students now owed their lives to him. As he always did, he’d painted a gracious smile on his face – the perfect poster boy of bravery and humility. And then he’d come home to precious, little you. Stirring on his king-sized bed after a night of ruthless fucking.

Now, he had a meeting to attend, which meant he didn’t need you or your body for the next few hours. Therefore, the doctor could check up on you.

But, before Steve leaves, a thought enters his mind. In two long strides, he crosses the room. You gape as he nears you, cringe away from him when his thumb and forefinger grab your chin roughly, making you look up at him. And fuck, you look so innocent and sweet, so afraid of him. It makes him want to ditch his meeting and get back into bed with you. Show you and teach you everything about sex that your innocent mind undoubtedly didn’t know. Hell, he’d popped your cherry last night but he’d been so preoccupied with your cute little pussy that he’s still yet to use your mouth or your other hole.

But he needs to set something straight first.

“You are my property.” He says it plainly, matter-of-factly. Long ago, Steve had mastered the art of keeping his face neutral, and he knows you’re intimidated by him. He can see you, feel you, shaking under his grip. “That means you do not speak to any other man without my permission, or without me there with you.”

You suck in your breath, but you don’t say anything. Not that you could even if you wanted to, since he’s holding your jaw so tightly. One little jerk of his wrist and it would all be over for you. Sweet little girl. Life over before it even began. Of course, Steve has no intention of killing you, but he wants you to believe that he could, and he knows that you, sweet naïve little you, will believe it.

“No talking unnecessarily with the doctor or any other men you may encounter whilst I’m gone today.” Steve continues. Of course, he has a lot of other rules for you too but he’d let you know them in due course. “As my personal property, I expect you to obey what I am telling you right now. If the doctor has any questions for you, you are allowed to answer him but nothing more than that. Just know that I have eyes and ears everywhere, and I’ll know if you disobey me in any shape or form.”

He lets go of you roughly, pushing you down till you’re lying on your side. He takes one last look at you, a long, lingering look filled with lust and want. You look scared out of your mind, and he wouldn’t have you any other way. He exhales slowly, before beginning to make his way out of the room once more.

“I’ll tell him you raped me.”

Your voice carries across his bedroom like a whisper, and Steve probably wouldn’t have even heard it had it not been for his enhanced hearing. His jaw tightens, a wave of irritation rumbling inside him at your choice of word. Expressionless, he turns back around. You’ve pulled yourself up into a sitting position, and you look so tiny on his huge bed. So tiny and scared and shaking – like a little baby who has no idea who she’s up against. He meets your sad, accusatory eyes, his dick hardening even more when he sees the fire’s back within them. But all he does is look at you, daring you to say more.

You swallow, as if trying to harness all the strength you possibly can from within you. “I-I’ll tell him you kidnapped me and raped me. And he’ll see for himself once he looks at me, anyone would!” Your voice breaks as you glance down at yourself, at your bruised and bloodied body. You sniffle, “You’re a rapist and everyone’s gonna know!”

This time, Steve takes his time, leisurely making his way back in your direction. And it’s comical, how quickly your bravado dissipates. You cringe back again, crawling to the edge of the bed in a bid to get away from him. But where would you go? You could hardly take a single step without falling over your shaking legs. It makes Steve’s lip curl in amusement, watching how you start to scramble, terror evident in your eyes. Along with the immediate regret for what you’ve just said to him.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Captain, please, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t–”

Your breathing sounds laboured once Steve finally reaches you, and you look like you’re about to pass out. Scared out of your mind like the stupid little girl you are. A rapist. Who the fuck did you think you were, calling Steve that? Comparing him to the vermin who prowled the streets and took advantage of women, the very same low-lives who Steve himself had personally put behind bars numerous times. He’d never be like them. No, this was different. He deserved this. He deserved you and your body. You were his. He could do whatever he wanted with your body, after everything he’d done to save you, to save the world.

You look up at him, swallowing harshly as if expecting the worst. But all Steve does is stroke your cheek softly. His fingers trail the smooth expanse of your face, your cheekbones, your temple, your forehead, your jaw. He strokes your face like you’re his little pet, and predictably, you start to relax. He can feel the goosebumps he’s leaving against your skin, and he knows the effect he has on you no matter how much you fight against him, or how much you accuse him of wronging you.

That’s when he draws his hand back and slaps you hard across the face.

The shock of the blow has you opening your mouth in a silent cry, but nothing comes out except for a pathetic squeak. You fall back down on his bed, clutching your face as tears of pain stream down your cheeks.

“Tell him.” Steve says softly, “Tell anyone you want. Let’s see what they do about it.”

***

Steve is hard throughout his meeting. All he can think about is you, his perfect little secret locked away in his room. None of the others could ever even dream of having a girl as lovely, soft and sweet as you.

Bucky’s girl was unruly and wild – he’d found her at a nightclub of all places, which meant her pussy was probably as used as the toilets in the dinky joint he’d met her at. And no matter how happy Bucky seemed now, Steve knew it was all a farce. That unkempt slut would never truly be the right fit for Bucky, and Steve knows his best friend deserves better. Steve would never settle like that; he would never be like him.

Tony’s wife – Pepper – was a vapid fool whom her husband had just made VP of Stark Industries. A woman in such a high-ranking position meant clearly for a man? Steve still feels revulsion when he thinks about it. No wonder Tony was a raging alcoholic – allowing his wife to wear the pants in their relationship had clearly chipped away at the old man’s sanity. Steve would never be like him.

Then there was Bruce. He had Natasha but he didn’t know how to control someone like her. He was too busy locked up in his laboratory, doing countless experiments per day. Tinkering with machines and chemicals and whatnot. All while Natasha ran roughshod all over town. Steve had heard stories of the redhead’s promiscuity. Bruce was a fool not to keep her in check. Steve would never be like him.

Thor still pined over Jane, the woman he’d claimed was the love of his life. But she’d gone and died on him. Steve doesn’t believe in love, but Thor’s situation reminds him of Peggy. What a fool he’d been back in the day, allowing himself to fall for someone as rotten as Peggy. She’d played him, danced circles around him and laughed while he’d scrambled after her. Made sacrifice after sacrifice for her. Then he’d woken up one day and realised she, like most women, was an airheaded whore. Steve didn’t think about Peggy at all anymore. In fact, he was happy she was dead now. And unlike Thor, Steve never pined over his past. He’d never be like that.

Clint and Sam, thankfully, had their heads screwed on the right way. Both of them had nice little housewives tucked away in their homes. A baby on their hip, an apron over their dress. Barefoot and pregnant, hidden away from anyone else. Steve could respect that. Sure, Sam partied a lot and stepped out on his wife more often than not. But he was a man and men had needs, and Steve could understand that.

Although neither Clint’s wife nor Sam’s wife were half as beautiful or innocent as you. No, Steve had won in the end, picked the best of the litter, the cream of the crop. And soon, you’d be his little wife, too. Tucked away in one of his suburban properties, hidden from the public eye. And, of course, he’d knock you up too. If he hasn’t already, that is.

That’s all Steve can think about throughout the whole meeting. Not that it’s anything important, anyways. Tony is droning on about something or the other – Steve doubts anyone is listening. Tony was a fucking fool, and everyone knew the true leader of the Avengers was Steve. He was the one everyone listened to, the one everyone reported to and responded to. Steve knows he holds all the power in the world. Presidents, kings, world leaders, they all practically bowed down to him. Tony was nothing but a shrivelled up, coked up, alcoholic that Steve chose to keep around out of pity.

He makes a few pleasantries once the meeting is over. Bucky invites him over for lunch with him and his girl, but Steve declines. He knows Bucky just wants his best friend and his girlfriend to get along, but Steve doesn’t view women as equals to get along with. That’s why, if he had his way, Natasha wouldn’t be a part of the Avengers at all. Anyways, he knows Bucky’s girl is temporary – nobody kept whores around for too long. Sure, Bucky was infatuated right now, but soon his best friend would want to settle down – and it wouldn’t be with a slut like his current girlfriend was. No, Bucky needed a nice, quiet, bookish, innocent, young girl. Like how Steve had you.

And with that thought, he quickly makes his way back to his apartment, back to you. The physician is leaving as soon as Steve arrives, ready with a full report.

“She’s hurt bad, Captain.” The doctor says, his face not revealing a single emotion, which Steve prefers. It’s not the first time Steve has sent a girl to be checked up by him, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “Her pelvic region is in a very vulnerable state. Sprained in many areas, and she’s lucky she didn’t break anything down there.”

Steve feels nothing. He knew you were injured, that much was expected. How could you not be? What with how small you were and how big he was? There was bound to be some type of damage. No surprise there.

The doctor continues: “She needs time to heal, Captain. Apart from her sprains, she is also suffering from some tearing and bleeding. It will heal, but only with time. I have prescribed her medicine for the pain, but in order for her to heal properly and fully, she cannot be subjected to any vaginal sex or penetration of any kind for at least two weeks.”

Steve’s mood sours immediately. Not being able to enter your heavenly little snatch for two weeks sounded completely absurd to him. Now that he’d had your tight little pussy for one night, he expected free access to it whenever he wanted. But to be barred from what he surely owned? It was insane torture. Half of him wants to throttle the doctor right then and there.

But all he does is nod, and waits till the doctor shows himself out.

Quietly, Steve makes his way through his apartment, heading straight for his bedroom. He tries to formulate a plan of action in his head. How was he to navigate these next two weeks? Of course, he’d still keep you in his room, even if he couldn’t use you sexually. You were his property after all, and two weeks wasn’t forever. It was a long time to not fuck, however, and Steve makes a mental note to inform his agents to have a few girls sent up to one of his other apartments for the time being. They wouldn’t compare to you, but they’d have to do.

He opens the door to his bedroom and immediately pauses. There you are, sat in the middle of his bed. You’ve changed into a pair of pyjamas; a silk button up top and matching shorts with little hearts printed on them. Steve doesn’t think he’s seen anything more girlish and cute – they must have been sent along with your other stuff from back home.

Sure enough, you have a pink backpack open in front of you, and you’re sifting through it like it’s a treasure chest and not some cheap piece of luggage that looks like it’s been through several rounds of tug-of-war. Pulling out clothes and holding them close, as if he’s fucking smuggled you out of the country or something, and you’ve finally gotten a care package from home.

But then you shriek in delight, grabbing what looks to be a stuffed animal from inside your bag and hugging it close.

“Chester, you’re here!” You squeal happily – the happiest Steve has ever seen you in the short time that he’s known you. And fuck, the blood rushes straight down to his dick as he watches you hug the teddy bear close to your chest, nuzzling its fur against your nose. And you’re so preoccupied by the dumb toy that you still haven’t noticed that you’re not alone in the bedroom. “I missed you so much! I’m so glad Mom and Dad sent you!”

It’s the rawest, fucking sweetest sight of innocence Steve has ever fucking seen. You, all soft and tiny on his huge bed, in your silky pyjamas, all freshly showered and looking like a goddamned angel. As if that wasn’t enough to get Steve all riled up, that sheer juxtaposition between your softness and naivete compared to Steve’s own roughness. But you had to get your goddamned childish toy out, hugging it like it was your lifeline, looking like the sweetest, most corruptible baby girl he’s seen in his entire goddamned life. Fuck, it’s like you were begging for it.

With a guttural growl, Steve lunges for you. He feels something animalistic take over his entire body. And he’s always prided himself in being disciplined, trained his body and mind to show restraint, self-control. But all that goes out the fucking window when he sees you sitting so pretty on his bed with your goddamned teddy bear. The sight goes straight to his fucking dick and now he feels like a fucking animal.

You realise a second too late that you’re not alone, and you scream bloody murder as Steve grabs you. But even if you’d had a head start, you wouldn’t have been able to escape him. Even if your body was a hundred percent healthy, even if you were in an open field or somewhere public instead of the closed quarters of Steve’s bedroom. Even then, you wouldn’t have stood a single chance. Steve feels lust like how he’s never felt it before. Lust like fire, catching all over his body, searing his fucking soul.

For a moment, he feels incensed to the point of madness. How dare you be so fucking perfect? Like a fucking doll laid out to tempt him. Looking all heavenly and sweet, youthful wonder in your eyes that had been scared away the moment you’d noticed him there.

He grabs your calf, savagely dragging you to the edge of the bed. And you look so fucking terrified, shaking like a goddamned leaf just like how you were last night when he’d first ravaged you. And it feels like the first time again, in some ways. Except now that he knows exactly how your tight cunt feels around his big dick, he’s even more incensed to have you as you continually fight against him.

“The doctor said no!” You cry out desperately, kicking at him in a bid to get away except you’re so fucking weak, it’s like fighting with a goddamned ant for all the good it’s doing. “C-Captain, please don’t! Please don’t, the doctor said no!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve seethes through clenched teeth. He straddles you quickly, a knee on either side of your waist, his palm plastering over your mouth to silence you. “I know what he fucking said.”

And yet all he can think about is how you smell like strawberries and fucking cream. The female agents must’ve bathed you – your face and body all look scrubbed clean and glowing. No longer looking like how he’d left you this morning – covered in your own virginal blood. Part of him is completely enamoured by your sweet-smelling innocence, but the larger, darker part of him wants to corrupt you once more, leave you bruised and bloodied once more just how he had last night. He always wants you like that, because you’re his and he can do it.

He knows he shouldn’t, he knows it’s a danger to your health and wellbeing. But goddamit, Steve deserves this! He deserves your body whenever the fuck he wants it. He’d fucking saved you from HYDRA, saved your entire university and you were his forever reward. Fuck the doctor’s orders, you were his. He’d do with you exactly what he wanted, when he wanted to do it.

You wail as he rips your silky pyjama shorts in half. And it only takes Steve half a second until he’s forcing himself deep inside your tight cunt once more. And it feels like fucking heaven, entering back into what was now and always would be his property. Your tight, pulsating softness strangles his fat cock like a goddamned vice, choking it. And it’s like the past twenty-four hours of him ravaging you hasn’t made a single difference because you’re just as virgin-tight as you were last night.

“STOP, PLEASE! IT HURTS!”

You instantly start crying and screaming, flailing underneath him just like you had last night. And you bring that goddamned stuffed animal up to your nose, cuddling it and nuzzling it as you cry into its fur. All that does is incense Steve further – you’re such a fucking baby – and he lets out a low growl.

“Call me daddy,” he commands you, holding you down with one hand whilst his other grabs for the lube once more. He’s inside you, but he wants to go in deep, go in all the way like how he had last night. And you’re not wet, so the lube is a necessity. He pulls out and squirts it all over his dick, jacking off as he looks down at you. All crying and pathetic with your teddy bear and your silky pyjama top with the hearts on it. “Say it. Right fucking now.”

“Daddy,” you cry, sounding like a dejected fucking baby, “Daddy, please! Please no more! Th-The doctor said no more!”

“I don’t care,” he breathes, drinking in how hot you look when you cry. How hot you look with your legs splayed open, lying underneath him like you’re nothing more than a worthless little doll. A part of him is so turned on by the fact that he went against the doctor’s orders, the fact that the animal inside him just couldn’t wait to get inside you again. “You’re mine. I can use your body whenever the fuck I want.”

“B-But it hurts!”

You’re a pouty little mess, hugging your teddy bear close like it’s your only form of comfort. Which it is, because Steve wasn’t about to comfort you ever. Not now or any time in the future. But he’s just so fucking enamoured by how sexy you look – like an innocent angel sent down from heaven just to seduce him. Physically, you’re everything he wants, craves, dreams about. Like a pretty little doll, so innocent and cute yet beautiful like a fucking vixen. Like it’s written in your stars to be owned by him, to be ruined by him, over and over and over again till he consumes you entirely.

Once upon a time, Steve thought it was written in his stars that Peggy was the love of his life. Well, he didn’t believe in love anymore, but the sight of you beneath him right now, teary eyes glistening as you look up at him with an almost revered expression… The power trip it gives him almost knocks the wind out of him. It wasn’t love, it could never be love… But it’s a strong feeling that practically consumes him in this moment.

Overcome with something he can’t quite explain, Steve kisses you hard. Driven by possession or perhaps something else, but he presses his lips against yours like he’s fucking parched and you’re the only one who could ever quench his thirst.

You cry as you kiss him back, and he wonders if it’s muscle memory or if you’re only responding because you’re scared. Either way, it excites him. And he’s too busy making out with you that for a second, he forgets to press his cock back inside you after coating it with the lube. But then he does, and fuck, you’re wet now. Wet from just a little kissing. Fuck, you were so perfect for him. He couldn’t wait to marry you.

“Call me daddy again,” he says against your lips as he pushes his cock deeper inside you. With your wetness and the aid of the lube, he fits into your pussy like a snug fucking glove. He holds your hip with one hand in a bid to keep you in place, and his other hand finds its way up to your face. He cups your cheek, “Tell daddy how good it feels to get fucked like this.”

You shake your head desperately, “I hate you! I hate you so fucking much!”

Steve frowns, a new darkness spreading across his chest like a spilled vial of poison. His hand hardens, gripping your face harshly as he bucks his hips, pistoning his dick inside you with renewed force. You squeal in pain, your tiny fists hitting against his chest and grabbing the lapels of his suit which he hadn’t even bothered to take off.

“I don’t fucking care if you hate me,” he hisses, his face inches from yours. “Your feelings don’t matter, and they never will. But you better fucking listen to me and do what I say, or else I could make this a lot more painful for you.”

The threat has your eyes round as saucers, and your lips pursed, wet from his saliva and your own mixed with your salty tears. Then he feels the tenseness leave your body, sees your limbs stop thrashing as you finally go limp in his arms. As if you’ve given up and accepted your fate.

“Good girl.” He smirks, granting you one single praise because you didn’t need more than that, lest it built up your confidence. “Now, tell me exactly how daddy’s cock feels right now.”

You scrunch your eyes shut, either from embarrassment at his dirty talk or just from the sheer hate you’re feeling for him. Again, Steve doesn’t give a fuck. He gives you one extremely hard thrust that jolts your eyes back open, as if warning you he’d go even harder if you didn’t comply.

“B-Big,” you breathe out softly, shyly, “It feels big, Captain. I mean daddy.”

“Yeah? You ever thought you’d get fucked by a cock as big as this?” Steve asks, pulling out and admiring how his huge length is covered in your juices. And your blood, because of course, despite not going as hard as he had last night, he’s made you bleed once more. God, you were such a goddamned baby.

You shake your head, only earning a slap to your face and a menacing look that has you crying out: “No!”

“No, what?” He knows he has a sick gleam in his eyes, because he wants to hear you say it. “

“No, I never thought I’d get fucked by a cock as big as yours!” You cry out, your sentence ending in a piercing scream as he slams into you once more. The teddy – fucking Chester – slips out of your grip because of the force of which you’re being fucked. But Steve won’t have that, he shoves it back into your arms, wanting to watch you hold it and cuddle against it. Use your little toy as the only source of solace while your daddy ravaged you.

“That’s right,” Steve says lowly, drinking in the sight of you crying into Chester’s fur, “Cuddle your fucking toy like the little baby you are. Getting fucked by a man more than twice your age,” he licks his lips when your pussy clenches around his cock at his words, “And you like it, don’t you baby girl? You like how much older I am than you.”

“No, I don’t!” And yet you moan desperately, rutting against him now, clutching at your teddy bear yet at the same time thrusting your hips upwards to meet his animalistic thrusts.

Steve smirks, “Your cunt likes it.”

He ruts into you with wild abandon. And the whole time, he’s wondering how you’ve just walked into his life and awoken a wild beast inside him, this innate animalistic need to fuck your little body over and over again like he was put on this Earth to do so. With others, he’s always showed restraint. But you? Restraint went out the window with you.

And you squeak so fucking cutely when you cum. And Steve knows you’re in pain, what with all your bruises and injuries, and yet your hips meet upwards with his thrusts, riding out your orgasm as your hands clutch at his suit which he has yet to take off. Like you can’t help but accept the pleasure he gives you, because it feels so fucking good and he knows you’ve never felt pleasure like this before. Not before him.

“Feels good, huh?” He hears himself say, “Thank me for making you feel good.”

“Nngh, thank you, daddy!” Now, you don’t even hesitate, don’t even fight back. Your head’s thrown back and you’ve got that dazed look in your eye, forever lost in the throes of pleasure as he mauls your body to his liking.

Tamed once again.

He makes you orgasm twice more before he unloads inside you, holding your hips upwards with your legs bent back against your chest to make sure it sticks. He wants you pregnant by at least the end of the month. Hell, between last night and now, there was no way you weren’t pregnant already. And you look so fucking dazed, your fists grabbing his suit jacket so tightly, your face contorting in pleasure as you cum over and over again, and your little pussy eagerly swallows up his cum.

It's only once he’s stood back up, once he’s buckling his belt again that you seem to come out of whatever sex-crazed stupor he’d reduced you to. That’s when you start crying once more, your lips curling in anger and that fire returning to your eyes as you look up at him in absolute contempt. But he revels at the sight of you; Chester still clutched to your chest, your hair dishevelled, your eyes red, your legs shaking, his cum dripping from between your thighs. And the fresh white sheets once more stained with dark, scarlet blood.

***

“Wow, Steve. I’m really happy you found someone. I can’t wait to meet her.” Bucky says earnestly.

It’s been two days since the last time Steve fucked you directly after the doctor had advised him not to. Knowing he has no restraint when it comes to you, he’s deliberately kept well away for the time being. He’d temporarily moved to one of his other apartments, quietly making arrangements for the future whilst also making sure his agents kept you well fed and taken care of in his room. He’d left you in such a bloodied state, he supposed you deserved the brief retrieve. But in the coming few days, he planned to move you to his house in the suburbs. But he had to go public with you before he did that.

Steve nods smoothly, “Yes. She’s extremely shy, which is why I kept our relationship a secret for so long. We’ve been together six months, but I’m certain I want to marry her.”

Lying always came easily to Steve. Just another mask to slip on, just like how he did every single day when he donned his suit and a smile on his face. His words painting a rich tapestry of lies while the darkness behind his eyes remained at bay and nobody was any wiser.

“Well, that’s great. I can’t wait to meet her!” Bucky slaps Steve on the back, a wide grin on his face.

“Yes, Steve. I’d love to meet her too. It would be nice to have another girl around here.” Bucky’s girl – Kira or Kiara or something like that – pipes up.

Steve nods at her, feeling a wave of irritation build up inside him. Couldn’t she see that the men were talking? Stupid, insubordinate little bitch. Clearly, Bucky didn’t plan to keep her around for long as he hadn’t even bothered to teach her basic manners. In Steve’s ideal world, women were to remain silent unless spoken to, especially in public. Under the arms or on the laps of their husbands like pretty ornaments, made to be admired, not heard. Clearly, Kira, like most females of the twenty-first century – had no idea what it meant to be an ideal woman. Unlike you.

“Yes. Buck, as I said, she’s very shy and suffers from strong bouts of social anxiety. But I’ve been working on it with her, and I think she’ll be ready to meet the team soon, at the very least. I’d like to propose to her soon.”

Kira claps her hands together excitedly, “Oh, how exciting!”

Steve does his best to ignore her and keep his face impassive.

“I’m really happy for you, man,” Bucky says, “Me and Kira would love to meet her. When do you plan on proposing?”

“Soon,” Steve says vaguely, plans of a big, public proposal clouding his thoughts. Little did Bucky know; Steve had already privately proposed to you. He’d done it the very same night he’d met you, between your wanton moans and his heavy thrusts, when he’d demanded that you marry him, and you, in your soft breathy voice, had agreed to do just that. Not that he even needed your agreement, it’s not like you had a say in the matter either way. And a public proposal would be just for show, so every single person on his team and in his country would know that you were Steve Rogers’ property. Yes, his plans would come together soon. Very, very soon.

***

“I-I want to see my parents!” You demand shakily the moment Steve enters his bedroom. He licks his lips at the sight of you, sat on his desk wearing what looked to be a pair of embroidered jeans and a cute pink top. More clothes that your parents had packed for you. And you look just as sweet as he remembers from two days ago, and he feels his cock twitch to life in an instant. But he knows he can’t fuck you now, if he did then he’d risk even more damage to your body. Permanent damage.

“Greet me properly.” Steve says, keeping his voice level and impassive. “It’s about time we went over certain rules that you need to follow now that you are mine.”

“I need to see my parents!” You repeat, “You’ve kept me locked up here for days, and I know they’d be worried about me.” Clearly, spending two days away from him has given you some sort of amnesia with the way you’re acting so brave all of a sudden. Well, Steve has no problem reminding you what exactly he was capable of.

He crosses the room quickly, smirking at how you shrink back in fear. That was more like it. Grabbing you by the neck, he easily lifts you up off his desk chair and throws you not-so-gently onto his bed.

“Captain, please!” Your face crumples in desperation, “I’ve been here almost three days now, and I just don’t understand why you won’t just let me go! You’ve used me countless times, but why can’t you just be done with me now? Why do you have to keep on torturing me like this!?”

Steve wants to roll his eyes. Women.

“Did you not hear me? I asked you to greet me properly,” Steve says softly, completely ignoring your impassioned plea. He grabs you by the chin. Hard. “Rule number one, as stated before, is that I own you. This means you must greet me any time I enter this room, or any other. You stand up,” he yanks you to your feet, and you yelp in pain, “and you approach me with your gaze lowered in respect,” he pushes your head down like you’re a dog, till your eyes are looking straight down at his shoes, “and you greet me whilst properly addressing me. Now do it.”

You don’t do anything, and the insubordination bristles Steve. He’d have you tamed soon enough. Quickly, he grabs your chin again, squeezing it hard till it hurts and you cry out in pain. “You and I both know the pain I am capable of inflicting upon you, sweetheart. Don’t make me do it now.”

“H-Hello, Captain,” you speak through angry tears, teeth gritted and eyes downcast, “Good morning – uh – sir.”

He would have preferred you to call him daddy now, but that would come with due course. He wanted you to call him that outside of sex but he knew it would take time for you to not be mortified enough to do that.

“Good girl,” he praises, before pushing you back on the bed. Throwing your tiny body around was very easy, and he liked exerting that power over you. “You will see your parents soon enough, but we need to go over some things first.”

You open your mouth to speak but Steve quickly raises his hand as if to silence you, also giving you a look menacing enough to make you shrink back again.

“Next week, we will make our first public appearance together.”

Your jaw drops open “But–”

“There will be a party in our honour, and I will introduce you to my colleagues and the general public. You will be on your best behaviour as there will also be press there.”

You start shaking your head, a dazed look on your face as if you can’t quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. Steve doesn’t give a fuck, and continues to speak as if your reactions don’t even matter. Which they do not.

“It will also be where I propose to you in front of everyone, and you will graciously and quietly accept, or else.”

“WHAT!?” You blurt out loudly, a horrified look spreading across your features, “P-Propose? What do you mean? C-Captain, no. No, no, no, that can’t be right. You can’t propose, there must be some kind of mistake–”

Steve’s jaw twitches, but expressionlessly he waits for you to stop stuttering like a goddamned fool. Your eyes look wide as saucers, shocked beyond belief as if you couldn’t wrap your head around the very idea of being married to him. Well, it hardly mattered as you were a woman and women had no say in matters such as these.

“You will be on my arm and under my supervision for the entirety of the event. Your behaviour will reflect my values, which means you will be polite and demure. Only speak when spoken to, and remain silent when it comes to worldly or political matters that do not concern you or women in general.”

“I’m not going to– Captain, this is a mistake–”

“Your parents will be present at the event. You will not talk negatively about me to them or anyone else, nor talk in detail about the circumstances under which we met. I will do all the talking, and you will nod and agree to whatever I say.”

Fire blazes in your eyes, your incredulity forgotten for a second. “You can’t stop me from telling my parents what you did to me!”

Quietly, Steve nods. He sits down next to you on the bed, making you jump in fear. You try to shuffle away from him but almost too easily, he picks you up and places you in his lap. Your back to his front, just how he had held you the night he’d first had you. It makes his cock harden immediately, but he knows he can’t fuck you. Not for another week and a half. Instead, he places his hand in front of you, almost in your lap, where it looks so goddamned big compared to your own tiny hands.

“Do you see my hands?” He prods you when you don’t reply, “Answer me.”

“Y-Yes.”

He watches you grudgingly look at his hands, take in all the roughness, all the callouses. His bruised knuckles, the burns and scars that would heal and fade away over the next few days. Hands that had seen everything, hands that were capable of acts that your tiny, girlish mind could hardly comprehend. Horror for you was submitting your homework late. The horrors his hands had seen and committed would make the hairs on the back of your neck rise in trepidation. You were lovely and sweet, and had no idea the evils and gore he had witness and contributed to. All to keep the world safe. To keep you, his beautiful little bride to be, safe.

“The night I met you, these hands choked three grown men to death.” Steve says tonelessly.

Your tiny gasp makes his dick harden even more, and you jump in his lap, his statement catching you so off-guard.

“I wrapped my hands around their throats, and I watched the life drain out of their eyes,” He continues, revelling in how you’ve begun to shake in his arms. “And it meant nothing to me. They were evil. Vermin. Disposable. I could have killed ten more of them and it wouldn’t have mattered. Killing them meant nothing to me. Ending a life no longer damages my psyche.”

Slowly, almost tenderly, Steve cups your face. He angles it sideways till you’re facing him, and he can see the beginnings of your delicious tears well up in your eyes. Your beautiful, wet eyes that glisten in total horror. You’re frozen, paralysed in fear. Breathing erratically in his lap while he holds you, holds you like you’re a little doll. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, taking his time in inhaling your sweet, beautiful scent. Another kiss, this time your hairline, and he can feel you shuddering underneath him.

He moves down to your cheek, kissing you there too. And the same with your other cheek, and he hears you whimper softly, your body on high alert, as if you don’t trust his gentle demeanour. Finally, Steve presses a soft kiss to your lips, sucking gently as if to savour your taste. He kisses the corner of your mouth, down your jaw; he peppers kisses up your neck before returning to your lips. Now, you’re quivering on top of him, unsure and nervous and scared. That’s when he opens his mouth and utters his next words.

“Would you like me to kill your parents, sweetheart?”

A broken noise falls from your mouth at his nonchalant question. A mix between a whimper and a cry, and you gape at him in total fear.

“You could tell them the truth about everything, just like I know you’re thinking of doing,” He casually tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You could cause a scene at our engagement party, too. Cry for help and run your mouth to whomever you think will listen. And then when all’s said and done, you’d find that no one would believe you. And you’d turn to your parents for comfort, thinking surely, if anyone would take your word, it would be them, right?”

You say nothing, and Steve pinches your side cruelly, making you cry out and nod your head out of pure fear.

Steve smirks, “Sweetheart, I’d have your parents out of the room before you’d even know what’s happening. I could make them disappear in a heartbeat, and no one would know any better.” He starts kissing your neck again, marvelling at how soft and sweet-smelling you are. “I could choke them out with my bare hands just like I did those HYDRA bastards. And in their last moments, as they try to hang on to their pathetic lives and take their dying breaths, I’d tell them it was all because of you. Their own daughter’s insubordination would be the reason for their demise. And when that’s all said and done, you’d still be mine. Dead parents and a guilty conscious, but my property all the same.”

He finishes his speech with a final kiss to your lips, before turning you around fully to face him.

“So tell me, sweet girl. Are you going to be on your best behaviour at our party?”

He wishes he could capture that delicious horror in your eyes, and keep it in a jar as proof of your innocence and subordination to him. You take a few gulping, shuddering breaths, as if trying to calm your own self down, as if trying your hardest not to cry. Finally, with your wet eyes downcast, you nod, and in a breathy whisper you answer him:

“Yes. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

***

“Bruce, I’m glad you were able to tear yourself away from your lab long enough to attend my party,” Steve says good-naturedly, a mask of friendliness on his face as he elbows the scientist jokingly.

“Of course, Steve. This is a great event.” Bruce looks forever like his dishevelled and distracted self, as if he’d just blindly stumbled out of his laboratory and put on a sports jacket before arriving here. “Nat and I couldn’t wait to meet this secret girlfriend of yours.”

He’s got Natasha on his arm and all Steve can think about is how pathetic Bruce is for allowing his girlfriend to attend a public event dressed in such an indecently cut gown. Steve himself would never allow you to wear anything indecent where other men would be able to lay their eyes on you. Of course, in the privacy of his room, he’d have you wearing all types of scantily-clad, vintage lingerie. But in public? You were Captain America’s soon-to-be wife, the picture of modest femininity and demure innocence. Which was why tonight he’d personally chosen your dress – a beautiful baby blue gown with a respectable neckline.

Steve would never be like Bruce.

“You must be the lucky lady who finally managed to capture Steve Rogers’ heart,” Natasha shoots you a friendly smile.

Steve feels you stiffen next to him, and he knows you’re scared because someone has directly addressed you. Since the party started half an hour ago, he’s had you snugly tucked by his side, his arm around you and hand firmly pressing against the small of your back lest you try to slip away. Although he doubts you’re capable of that at all, since you look like you’re scared shitless. Undoubtedly, his threats from earlier are still looming over your head, as they should.

“She is,” Steve answers for you, making sure to keep his voice light and good-natured. “She’s had me head over heels for her since the moment we met in front of that local art exhibition late last year, right sweetheart?”

He pinches you lightly, nobody else would’ve even seen it. But you jump, swallowing hard as your stupid little mind tries to keep up with his smooth lies. “Y-Yes,” you answer shakily, “I was volunteering at the art exhibit and that’s how we met.”

A flimsily executed lie, but Steve supposes you haven’t had half as much practice as he’s had with being dishonest. Hell, his whole life revolved around dishonesty and facades, so much so that he’s perfected the art of putting on mask after mask. His agents had coached you on what to say so your story would match Steve’s, and they’d made sure all the details lined up before the false story was leaked to the press. Besides, Natasha was too much of an airhead and Bruce was too distracted to question your less than stellar lie.

“Well, welcome to the family,” Natasha leans in to give you a warm hug which you return after glancing up and receiving an approving nod of permission from Steve. And then the redhead looks up at him, “And Steve, I can’t believe you hid her from us for six whole months! You didn’t even tell me, and I thought I was more special than that!”

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. Natasha had always been under the impression that her and him were exponentially close. As if Steve would ever be close friends with a woman. Everything he did, he did for his image – and that included having the world think him and Nat were some sort of crime-fighting duo. When the reality couldn’t be further from the truth – if Steve had his way, a woman wouldn’t be part of the Avengers at all.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to jinx a good thing,” Steve answers good-naturedly, giving you a warm squeeze. He can feel your breath hitch, feel your eyes dart over to him warily before you look down at the floor again. He can sense that you’re nervous, scared of breaking the façade of picture-perfect happiness you’re supposed to be presenting, wary of the consequences if you were to break said facade. You’re also jittery and skittish, holding on to his arm with your tiny hands like the naïve little girl you are, a little girl forced into the spotlight of his world. On the arm of the most important person in the room. No, the most important person in the world.

“Nat, Bruce, if you’ll excuse us. We’ve got to make the rounds and greet everyone before this one gets too tired.” He says, and it’s not even a lie; as you’re still healing from all the injuries he’s inflicted on your body after that first night of fucking. In fact, it’s one of the reasons why your weak little body is clinging on to him so tightly – he’s sure your legs would give out if he wasn’t there to keep you up. And that thought, the fact that you’re relying solely on him, gets his dick hardening in his pants.

Steve leans over and softly kisses your temple, letting his lips linger for a second. His nose twitches, taking in your sweet scent. Two female agents had bathed you in rosewater and rubbed and lathered all sorts of sweet-smelling oils and creams on your skin, till you were glowing and smelling sweet like a flower. Then they’d slipped you into the dress he’d chosen, and applied light makeup to your face (as well as heavy makeup on your body to conceal any bruises) as per his instructions. And so when he’d seen you for the first time earlier tonight, standing there in the middle of his bedroom like a girl straight out of his wettest dreams, all he’d wanted was to shove you down on his dick and use you as a goddamned fleshlight, ruin you for daring to look like such a sweet little angel, for daring to seduce him like that, all while you stared up at him with fresh tears in your eyes and a naïve indignance in your face. Fuck, he’d been hard ever since.

He waits for you to croak out a goodbye to Natasha and Bruce before leading you away. And he hears them whispering to each other as the two of you leave:

“Gosh, isn’t he so gentle with her, Bruce? I’m so happy Steve finally found someone to settle down with!”

“Mmhm,” Bruce agrees, “I didn’t even know he was dating anyone. He always seems so busy, putting everyone else’s needs over his own. He deserves this.”

Everywhere Steve goes, he’s used to people worshipping him. Praising him, his bravery, his selflessness, his good looks. Tonight is no different, as he parades you around the banquet hall, introducing you to everyone in the circles he hangs around in. Not that he enjoys the company of any of these people – but they think he does. Just another part to play.

And he knows how jealous every man in this room is right now, how their hungry, pathetic gazes follow you around as you cling to him. Because you’re so lovely, so pure, so soft. Unhardened by the hardships of life, your face brimming with innocence and that delicious fear because of the control Steve has over you. And he knows that every other man wants you like how he has you, but they never would. He’d kill them if they tried.

He feels you stiffen, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the ballroom where the engagement party is being held. Right in the corner by the entrance, sticking out like two sore thumbs, intimidated and out of place, are your parents. Not that he’d even bothered to find out what your parents looked like from the background checks his agents had done on you in the past week, but he can tell it’s them now. And he smirks and makes a beeline straight for them, with you in tow beside him.

They’re immediately in awe of him, just like he knew they would be. Most people are in awe of Steve, and he’s used to the way they look up at him as if he’s some kind of God. Like he’s the epitome of what every other man strives to be, both physically and otherwise.

He shakes your father’s hand, gives your mother his warmest hug. Smiles and holds you close, apologises to them for keeping his “relationship” with you a secret all these months. Tells them how in love with you he is, how the two of you have so much in common, how he’s never felt like this about anyone else in his life. How he vows to take care of you and keep you safe for as long as he lives. How he’d love it if he could have their blessing as he asks for their daughter’s hand in marriage.

That last line has your parents practically falling apart. Your mother starts crying, thanking him for being so kind and generous. Telling him that she knows he’ll take good care of you. Your father is similarly affected, although he clears his throat and nods and claims the two of you make a beautiful couple, and of course you have his blessing. And it’s laughable almost, how the two of them don’t even spare you a glance. Because if they did, they’d see your face crumple in dismay, your body go stiff, your tiny little hands forming fists by your sides.

“M-Mom, please, we need to talk–”

Steve drags you away before you can croak out another word, and swiftly leads you to the centre of the banquet hall, a bone-crushing grip on your hand.

“Remember what I told you,” He warns, and he doesn’t have to say anything else. The memory of the threat he’d made earlier settles on your pretty face like a ghost, your delicate features etched in pure fear of him. And fuck, it gets him so hard how completely at his mercy you are in this moment. So tiny, fresh like a fucking flower, soft and feminine and perfectly afraid of him, clinging on to his arm while every other man looks at him in awe, and you in desire.

“I-I just wanna talk to my mother!” You squeak out softly, and it’s the first full sentence you’ve spoken to him all night. And of course, Steve could answer you. He could tell you that you’d have the opportunity to talk to her later (if you behaved). But he says nothing, because nothing you say is important, nor would it ever be.

One by one he goes over to each guest in the banquet hall, your little body firmly pressed to his side. And it turns him on so fucking much, how small you feel against him. Like a quivering little mouse. It reminds him of the fear he’d seen the night he’d first had you, and it thrills him how you’re still just as scared of him as you were then. In fact, even more so.

But he dons the mask he always does, the mask of the happy, humble Steve Rogers, as he makes his rounds, acts like the perfect host. Thanks every single person personally for coming, and for meeting his beautiful girlfriend.

“Bucky, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend.”

As Steve introduces you to his oldest and closest friend, he regards Bucky’s face carefully. He wants him to see how lovely, soft and feminine you are. See how Steve has chosen the perfect girl and Bucky should discard Kira and closely follow his example with someone who was more like you.

Instead, his enhanced hearing picks up the slight hitch in your throat and the sharp intake of your breath as Bucky shakes your hand. He notices how you swallow hard, almost like a gulp, and a different kind of nervousness takes over your being, your eyes glistening like stars as you look up at the Winter Soldier.

“H-Hi,” You utter softly, and it’s the first time all night where Steve hasn’t had to prompt you to speak.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Bucky straightens after letting go of your hand, and Steve makes it a point to yank you up against his side, keeping his arm firmly around your waist. “Steve did an amazing job of keeping you a secret all this time, but he hasn’t been able to shut up about you now that we all know.”

You laugh shyly, and it’s the cutest little laugh Steve has ever heard. But it also incenses him, to hear you laugh at something another man has said. Even if that man is his best friend.

“She’s not used to big events like this,” Steve rubs your hip, eyeing Bucky carefully. “I think I’ll take her home soon.”

“Remember how much we hated these kinds of events back in the day, Steve?” Bucky elbows him before his gaze settles on you again. “Don’t worry, you get used to them. Well, Steve certainly did since he’s a pro with people now. Me on the other hand? I get shy too, so you’re not alone.”

Steve feels you perk up, feels your whole energy shit. Those stars in your eyes, he can practically see them. They make him want to crush Bucky’s head into the ground.

“R-Really?” You sound all breathy and cute, all innocent and hope-filled, your pathetic little heart no doubt thinking you’ve found an ally of some sort. It’s almost comical, and yet Steve does not feel like laughing.

“Of course. But it gets easier over time.” Bucky straightens his suit and looks around, “I wish my girlfriend was here - she’s been dying to meet you, but I have no idea where she ran off.”

You wilt like a flower in slow-motion, your cute little mouth down-turning and your gaze retreating to the floor. Steve’s heightened senses notice all of it, and it sears him from the inside out.

“Girlfriend?” You echo softly, pathetically shrinking into yourself.

“Yes, my girlfriend Kira – you’d love her! Steve, have you seen her around?”

“No, but we better get moving. Lots of people to meet,” Steve tugs you along, watching as your eyes trail back to Bucky, a roaring fire in his heart igniting like something he’s never quite felt before. He pushes it back down quickly, extinguishing it before it affects his mask. But not before digging his fingers into your hip hard enough for you to whimper.

He guides you over to the remaining groups of people he has yet to greet. But you’re a million miles away, despite the fact that he’s physically holding you up and prompting you to speak every now and again. More than once, he catches you looking across the ballroom with a pathetic, yearning look in your eye. He follows your gaze to find it fixated on Bucky, who’s now embracing Kira in the corner of the crowd.

“Eyes on the ground or on me,” Steve mutters lowly. Of course, up until a few moments ago, he was not the least bit bothered by where or who you looked at. But those stars in your eyes when Bucky had spoken to you, and that twinkling laughter that Steve had never heard before now? His fists curl at his sides, and he wonders if he hasn’t made it clear enough who exactly you belonged to. Perhaps the brief retrieve you’d gotten when he’d been barred from fucking you these past few days had caused you to forget.

He finds he doesn’t have a problem with reminding you, even if it means going against the doctor’s orders again.

After a handful of more wooden hellos and fake pleasantries, he decides it’s time. Everything has been set up meticulously, and he leads you up to the centre of the small stage. He doesn’t even have to clear his throat to get everyone’s attention, he knows every single pair of eyes in this ballroom is plastered on him now, as he finally, officially makes you his property and brands you as his. He clears his throat.

“I know you’re not a huge fan of public declarations of love and whatnot. Quite frankly, neither am I and you know this. But I just… I always felt so out of place and,” he makes himself chuckle charmingly as he takes both your hands in his, “pardon the pun, like a man out of time. Until I met you.” He utters your name softly, slowly. Playing a part like he always does while you look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. You look uncomfortable, shy, nervous, caught-of-guard despite his agents drilling tonight’s plan into your dumb little head like how they’d been ordered to.

He squeezes your hands, hearing sighs and simpers all around him. But all he can focus on is you, looking so breathtakingly beautiful and innocent in the intimate candlelight of the ballroom. Like you’ve stepped straight out of his dreams and into his arms. Like his very own dream-girl that he’s hunted down and caught, and will now keep forever caged as his.

“You taught me that there’s more to life than just work, you taught me how to enjoy things without feeling guilty about it…” he pauses, and as if on cue he hears more sighs erupt from the crowd of guests. “You came into my life when I least expected it, and for so long, I wanted to keep you a secret from the world because I wanted to keep you safe and,” again, he makes himself laugh softly, “And I guess a part of me just wanted to keep you all to myself. But now, I want nothing more than for everyone to know just how much I love you…”

Steve would be bored by the whole thing if it weren’t for your innocuously animated facial expressions, your eyes shining with bewilderment, your luscious lips forming the shape of an o. He’s memorised speeches like this more times before than he can count. As an avenger, it’s something that’s become second nature to him – playing a character, smiling for crowds of people he couldn’t care less about, spewing out line after line that he no longer believed in. It was all in a day’s work for him.

But you… You look like you want to break into a run as you stare up at him, too scared to look away. And he’s so infatuated by that look of yours, that deliciously pure look of fear for him, he almost wants to take you into his arms there and then, shield you from everyone else because they don’t deserve to look at you. You’re like a pure little flower, delicate against the forces of nature, and despite his primal need to ruin you, there’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to protect you.

He gets down on one knee, earning many a gasp from the audience. Everyone’s waiting with baited breath, and that’s when he sees it. A lone tear meandering its way down your cheek, almost like a final plea for him to rethink his proposal. Your lips purse slightly, as if silently begging him not to go through with this. It almost makes him want to laugh. God, how great it would feel to snuff the hope right out of your eyes. Stupid little girl.

“Baby, will you marry me?”

He’s got the box open between his thumb and forefinger, the ring sparkling brightly against the velvet interior. He watches you carefully, not a doubt in his mind what your answer would be. You know the consequences were you to defy him now, or at any point. But it’s mildly amusing to watch you all the same, watch a plethora of different emotions flit through your face. Fear. Helplessness. Anger. Defiance. Sadness. Resignation.

“I-I…uh…” your eyes blink back tears, and you look past him, undoubtedly at your parents. Your plump lips part, and Steve’s itching to kiss them in front of every single person here as he claims you as his. But instead, he waits, wearing a mask of charming patience as he looks up at you expectantly. And when he finally catches your eye, all he has to do is blink, as if to say: see what happens to them if you disobey me.

“I do.” You whisper. A tidal wave of applause and exclamations follow. Mindless people crying, screaming, whooping, hollering, clapping and snapping pictures as if they had a personal stake in this proposal. But they don’t matter. The only thing that matters is that he’s made you his in front of all of them.

Slowly, he slips the ring on your dainty finger. There’s no sentimental value to it; his agents had picked it out. But it’s a mark of his ownership over you, with his initials delicately inscribed on the inside slightly protruding outwards so they’d brand your skin when you put it on. A taken woman, a kept woman. His forever reward. All his. And nobody else’s.

“He deserves this,” a woman in the audience says, “oh, he’s given so much to our country, hasn’t he? All he does is give, and make unselfish sacrifices for us.”

“Yes,” the man next to her agrees as they both clap, “Steve Rogers deserves this happiness more than anyone else in the world.”

Delicately, Steve gathers you in his arms. You’re so small and trembling, half in a state of shock over what’s just happened, over the weight of the sparkling rock now on your finger. But it doesn’t matter how you feel, not when he’s got the most beautiful girl in the world on his arm, now when he’s just marked his ownership over you. And fuck, he can feel himself harden in his pants at how small you are against him. How weak and helpless and in shock after agreeing your life away to a man you’d only just met a week ago.

“Good girl,” he praises as he hugs you close, the two of you being showered by applause and yet all he can focus on is you.

“I…I…” you can’t speak, can’t stop stuttering, and so all you do is rest your cheek against his chest, and let him hold you, and hug you, and rock you against him. Before he dips your head back and kisses you all sweet and gentle, when all he wants to do is ravish you. Kiss you like a damn caveman and taste your blood simply because he owns you and he can.

He presses his hard crotch against your midriff till he feels you gasp, looking up at him with pleading, wet eyes. And it gets him even harder. You’re his. He’s essentially bought you from your parents, and now he owns you. Your sole caretaker, he’s the one you answer to, cater to, listen to, worship.

God fucking damn… Fuck the doctor’s orders. He wants to shove his cock inside you now, even if it means he’ll permanently break you.

He kisses your forehead, looking beyond you for a moment. Thor’s clapping at the back but he’s got a sad, forlorn look in his eye. Undoubtedly thinking about that bitch Jane who had died. And Bruce and Natasha, hugging each other as they look on happily. As if their sham of a relationship could ever compare to what Steve has with you. Bucky’s there too, arm in arm with his girl, a look of pride on his face.

And right at the back, in the very corner of the ballroom leaning against the wall, is Tony Stark. Nursing a brown bottle of liquor, hair unkempt, face hollow and unshaven since God knows when. And yet his eyes are alert, and he looks straight at him in a way that makes Steve bristle.

“W-Will I get to go home? For a little while? J-Just until the…the wedding?” You ask softly, and Steve looks down at you, the sound of your breathy, quiet little voice going straight down to his cock. There’s something about you asking him that, because he’s who you’d have to seek permission for anything from now on. And it incenses him all over again, and the thought of Tony is wiped completely out of his mind.

He doesn’t even bother answering your pathetic question, instead leaning down to kiss you again. You taste sweet, beautiful and salty with tears. He doesn’t mind. You don’t kiss him back. He doesn’t care about that either. You were completely and irrevocably his, and there was no reversing it. A sudden carnal need has him biting down on your lip. Hard. You whimper. Fuck.

He wants you. Suddenly, he can’t wait anymore. Grabbing your wrist in a crushing grip, he yanks you down the stage. Like the red sea, the crowd parts for him. Clapping, congratulations, more applause. He doesn’t care about any of it. You whimper beside him, the shock of the proposal clearly having yet to wear off because your feet drag against the floor. He huffs in impatience, scooping you up bridal style in one quick, fluid motion. The crowd erupts with more simpers and applause, none the wiser to the dark, carnal thoughts swirling in his head.

He carries you down the side of the ballroom, out into the hallway and towards the bathroom. He can’t wait. He shouldn’t have to wait. You were his bride to be. His little fiancé. His to do with as he pleases. Nobody could stop him. He was Captain fucking America. He’d kill anyone who stopped him. Crush their fucking skulls and paint the hallway with their worthless blood.

It’s like a wild animal has taken over Steve’s mind and soul as he pushes past the bathroom door and all but throws you inside. You wail weakly, and it gets him even harder how fragile you are, how easily he’s able to toss you from one corner to another without even using one percent of his strength.

“Y-You can’t–” You gasp weakly, that delicious pleading look still in your big, wet eyes as you realise his intentions, “The doctor, h-he said–”

Steve can’t get his eyes off your dainty little hand as you hold it in front of you, as if trying to shield yourself from him as you back away till your back is against the wall. The glimmer of your engagement ring as it brands you as his forever. Fuck, he doesn’t think he’s ever been harder than he is right now. A large part of him wishes he’d ended his proposal by fucking you in front of every single guest, letting them watch as he deflowered you and took ownership of your body again and again and again till he’d fucked you into unconsciousness just like he had that first night.

Because now you were forever his. Branded by the ring on your finger, forever tethered to him in every single way possible. Every single person now knew you were the sole property of Steve Rogers. Hell, your own parents had signed you away to him, and now he was your God, your saviour, your caretaker, your everything.

He wraps one hand around your tiny, delicate little throat, lifting you up off your feet in a crushing grip before he kisses you. Really kisses you. Forcing his tongue into your mouth in a display of total dominance and ownership, licking and exploring every part of you. Biting at your lip till he knows you’re crying against him, your little fists pounding on his chest as he kisses you. Your breathless little gasps against his mouth because he knows he’s depriving you of oxygen, choking you while he kisses you, knowing there’s not a damn thing you can do about it because of how weak and little you are.

Abruptly, he puts you down. Undoes his fly, grabs his rock-hard dick and pumps it as he watches you cower, gasping for breath and trying hard not to look at his crotch.

“N-No, Captain, no, please not here. Please, please, please–”

“Get on your knees.”

Steve loves the look of earnest confusion on your face. You’re so pure, so innocent, you truly don’t know what he’s ordering of you. Your pouty little mouth purses, your brows furrow, but Steve’s so fucking hard, that animal inside him roaring at the chance to feel your warm, wet, virgin mouth on his dick. And he’d rather be balls deep in your tight snatch but he knows he can’t, not when you’re so close to healing, not when he’s already abstained for so long.

He shoves you down onto your knees, and it’s the realisation on your face that does it for him. That sweet realisation of what’s about to happen, and the image of you in your pretty little dress, face done up all sweet, not knowing just how ruined he plans to make you look by the end of this. That’s what makes him grab his hard, fat, throbbing cock and smack you across the face with it. Hard.

You cry out in pain, and Steve does it again. Slaps your poor cheek with his fat cock just so you know what’s about to go down your fucking throat with zero mercy.

“Tell me how happy you are to be my wife,” he orders, tracing your lips with the tip of his dick. His precum paints your face, mixes with your tears and makes your cheeks shine.

“I-I’m not, I don’t want this – Captain, please don’t!”

SMACK.

Another smack to your face, and you burst into baby tears as if you can’t take it anymore. As if you’ve been holding them in for this whole function and now you’re really letting it all go. Crying for everything you’ve lost – not that Steve gives a single fuck.

“Say it.”

“I-I’m happy to be your wife, okay?! Please, I can’t do this here, Captain, please don’t make me!”

He grabs your hair and yanks it, and it’s when you scream in agonising pain that he shoves his huge cock down your throat. And again you scream, but this time it feels like fucking heaven – feels like vibrations on his cock as he holds your head down, shoving as much of his huge member as he can fit inside that tiny, tight fucking virgin mouth of yours.

“God fuck,” he hisses, tapping your cheek hard with his palm, “Daddy needed this, sweetheart.”

He can’t help the pet-name, not when you look so sweet and ruined already. On your knees on the bathroom floor in front of him, his huge dick in your mouth, his balls in your face. Tears streaming down your cheeks, your pretty dress spread like flower petals around you. He wonders if you’re wet from how rough he’s being, and the thought sends him into a frenzy, and he bucks his hips against your mouth, making you scream around his dick again.

“You should get used to this,” he hisses, “This is your life from now on, baby girl. This is what you were meant for. You’ll serve me like this every fucking day if I want you to. On your knees like a goddamned whore wife for your husband.”

Except you’re not a whore. No, you’re his innocent little bride. The epitome of elegance and class, of feminine purity. Except for when he’s got you behind closed doors, where he can reduce you to a sniffling, slutty little mess because you’re his and he can and he deserves this.

His cock is so big, you’ve barely taken a quarter of it in your mouth and you’re already struggling to breathe. Choking on his fat cock while you start to panic, your tiny fists pushing and shoving at his abs through his three-piece suit. He takes no heed, instead reaching down to rip your dress down its front, wanting to see your pretty breasts bounce as he truly begins to fuck your face.

You whine and cry on his cock, and that’s when he grabs fistfuls your hair from either side and truly begins to fuck your face. Your eyes widen like saucers with dread pooling in them. You punch him with all your might, try to push him off you but there’s no hope. The bathroom echoes with sounds of struggle, your gasps and screams against his dick that he pushes further and further down your throat with each thrust.

“You like that, don’t you?” As suddenly as he’d started fucking your face, he pulls out of your mouth. You gasp for breath, ready to fall into a heap on the gleaming, tiled floor had he not had a strong grip on you holding you upright.

He spits on your face, taking his time spreading his saliva across your forehead, cheeks, lips, nose. But even that isn’t enough, and he takes his heavy dick, covering in your spit and his precum, and rubs it all over your face. And it gets him so fucking hard, almost like he’s scenting you. Ruining you for anyone else despite the fact that there never would be anyone else.

“Say you like daddy’s dick in your mouth,” he orders you.

“Captain, ple–”

“Say it or I’ll drag you out in front of everyone and fuck you like the bitch in heat I know can be.”

You cry and cry, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look up at him with a mix of fear and revulsion. Your spunk kept coming back, no matter how many times he tamed and broke you. No matter how much he threatened you, hurt you, pushed you around. And it makes you so much fucking sexier to him that he almost can’t stand it. You’re everything he’s dreamed of and more, and it thrills him how scared you are of him, and yet how at the same time you push your luck and keep trying to fight back against him.

“Say it, or I’ll fuck you in front of your parents before I kill them.”

A gasp dies in your throat, and you look up at him with a peculiar kind of hatred. Like almost a revered kind of hatred. Like you’ve never seen anyone so powerful in your life, and he knows how helpless he’s making you feel. And it gives him the biggest fucking power trip he’s ever had.

“I–I like daddy’s dick in my mouth,” you try to downcast your eyes but he’s holding your face in a death-grip, and holding your gaze too.

“I know you do,” Steve sighs, pressing his fat, throbbing cock back into your mouth with such force, he almost knocks you backwards. But with a steel grip in your hair, he begins to move your head up and down. Using your mouth like a goddamned fleshlight as he fucks it. His tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around him and he still doesn’t let off.

You’re his pretty little mess, on your knees serving him like he’s your fucking God. Face ruined, dress ripped, your tits bouncing for him. Fuck, he wants to take your nipples in his mouth. Suck and bite them till they’re bruised and sore. He’d take you home and do just that, because you were his. His girl. His fiancé. His bride to be. His little toy. His forever reward.

Now, he takes his dick out from your mouth once more, resting it on your face as he roughly guides your tired, chapped lips to his heavy balls.

“Suck,” he orders, slapping your face lest you pass out on him again. This time, you don’t question him or even protest. Your lips wrap around his balls, sucking like you’re a goddamned pornstar, a half angel, half seductress put on this Earth especially and only to service him.

It doesn’t take long after that for him to blow his load. Not when you’d been teasing him all night, dressed up in your innocent blue dress like you were seducing him. Pressing your little body against his all night because of how weak you were from how hard he’d last fucked you. And it turns him on so fucking much, your physical weakness compared to his brute strength. He could kill you if he wasn’t careful. But he was always careful. He couldn’t lose you now. Not when you were the girl of his dreams and he’d finally made you his.

He cums on your face, wanting to brand you even more. And you blink up at him in delicious confusion, you lashes sticky with his seed, your pouty lips shining and downturned. It gets him hard all over again, and roughly he yanks you up to your feet. Holding you up with just one arm, he drags you to the bathroom mirror, grabbing your chin to get you to look at your reflection.

He drags his finger across your cheek, gathering his cum on it before prodding it against your lips. Your eyes widen, that delicious innocence shining through once more as you gape up at him.

“Lick it off.”

You’re too weak, too scared, to worn out to argue this time. And Steve almost blows another load when you suck on his finger, tasting his cum for the first time. And he takes his time, feeding you his seed till your face shines clean. And he suddenly has this wild urge to fill you up with his cum. Blow a load down your throat, then flip you over and fuck your pussy so savagely before filling you up, and then, when you’re on the verge of passing out again, he’d force his cock straight up your virgin ass and cum in there too.

It excites him, knowing he has the rest of his life – and yours – to subject you to whatever he wants to. And as his wife, it would be your duty to just take it. Sweet little girl, your life was his now. He’d make your decisions, decide what you wore, when you slept, who you spoke to, what you did. And he’d use your body how he deemed fit because it was his, and you were his.

He takes his jacket off and drapes it over your front to protect your modesty before hoisting you up bridal style once more. You’ve practically passed out again, but he doesn’t care. He carries you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. There’s a back elevator that takes him down to a private parking lot underground. His agents have the black car waiting, and he lays you across the backseat.

“I almost forgot you prefer ‘em barely concious.”

Steve blinks, his lip curling at the familiar voice.

Tony Stark steps out of the shadows. Or staggers, rather; his suit creased, and liquor bottle in hand. Steve keeps his face impassive, shutting the door of the car behind him.

“What, you’re leaving so soon? Got tired of dragging that poor thing around like she’s some kind of toy?”

Steve smirks, signalling for his agent to start the car, “Go back inside, Tony.”

“Is she one of the ones you get delivered to your apartment after missions? I’ve seen a fair few of them being carried out once you’re done with them.” Tony downs his drink, “Poor girls. Never knew what hit ‘em, huh?”

Jaw tensing, Steve crosses his arms over his chest, “Take it easy on the drinks tonight, Tony. I think they’re making you hallucinate.”

“She’s too young for your PR circus bullshit, Rogers.”

Of course. Tony was jealous.

“I’ll have one of my agents escort you back upstairs if you’re unable to find your own way.”

“She looked terrified up there. What did you do, threaten to kill her family?” Tony brings his bottle to his lips again, only to realise it’s empty.

Steve only watches him quietly. Studies him, like how he often does. Old, unkempt, borderline crazy old man. A once great leader turned into a punchline. The butt of every joke. Forced to drink himself into a stupor in the shadows whilst Steve was worshipped and revered by the masses like how Tony once was.

Steve smiles easily, “Go to bed, Tony. You’re drunk.”

“I see you, Steve,” Tony slurs, shrugging off an agent who attempts to grab his arm, “I see the real you. At least what you’ve become. And you’re riding this high now, but soon they’ll all see what you really are. Hell, her face will give it away each time you bring her out in public.”

The conversation is hardly stimulating, and Steve finds himself growing bored. He opens the car door, getting a flash of your smooth, pretty legs as you lie unconscious in the backseat.

“Shout it from the rooftops, Tony. Nobody wants to believe a drunk. Nobody wants to take orders from one either.”

Tony sneers, “You’re not taking my spot, pal.”

Steve doesn’t bother answering him. He gets into the car, draping your legs over his lap before shutting the door. Tony was never someone Steve took seriously enough to waste any more energy on him than he really had to. Nor did he think of the man as a serious threat. Steve had already taken Tony’s spot. That fact was as plain as day.

Now, he strokes your bare calf, and watches as you lie in the car. Deathly still, blinking up into the darkness. Morose as you stared out the window, so ruined and deliciously used. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to seeing you like this, seeing you so utterly ravished and broken. He traces shapes against your smooth, supple skin, before pressing a soft kiss to your calf. It’s oddly gentle, especially after the animalist display he’d put on in the bathroom. But you’re like an angel in the backseat of his car, an angel with a sparkling rock on her finger, an angel that was all his. His forever reward.

He has the female agents bathe you once he’s carried you back up to his apartment. He has some things to attend to in his office, and by the time he comes back to his bedroom, they’ve laid you out on his bed in a pretty pink negligee. Fresh and pure like a flower, eyes blinking up like a deer caught in headlights the moment he walks in.

He’d ordered the agents to give you something to knock you out for the night, and it’s clear the drug has yet to take its full effect. Perhaps that’s why you’re not your usual skittish self as he sits on his side of the bed. In fact, he can feel you watching him, your breathing shallow and slow. He was supposed to go back to his other apartment after dropping you off, but he feels an inexplicable need to stay.

“I…I wish you were nice,” you croak out softly, so soft he barely hears it, and yet it surprises him, because you’ve all he’s heard from you up until this point is begging, cries and insubordinate accusations. The drug has you slurring your words slightly, and yet you’re perfectly clear, “It would be so much easier if you were just a little bit nice.”

He doesn’t say anything. Your words are stupid, foolish, childish. To Steve, it doesn’t matter what you think of him. It doesn’t matter what’ll make things easier for you. Instead, he lies down, dragging you till your body’s flush against his. Tiny and peachy warm, smelling like strawberries and cream, the negligee silky soft, your bare skin even softer. It gives him that animalistic urge where he wants to just consume you.

Instead, he holds you closer, till your cheek rests on his chest and your body’s practically on top of his. And he doesn’t quite understand why he requires this closeness right now, only that he just does, and you’re his bride and therefore there to provide him with whatever he wants.

And right now, he wants to hold you. Feel your body against his. Remind himself how small you are, how much power he yields over you. As your husband, your provider, the man you look up to, the man who owns you. He was rough with you in the bathroom after the proposal, but now it’s like the animal is sated, and all that’s left is this almost strange, alien need to have you close.

He lifts you up and presses a kiss to your lips. A soft peck at first, then another one before he deepens it. He wants to feel you kiss him back, just like how you’ve done in the past despite pretending not to want him. But your soft lips remain lax against his, and he draws back to see you sniffle.

“Would it hurt you to be nice?” Your voice comes out so small, so beautifully weak. “Just a little bit nice? Like how you are on TV. I wish… Oh, I wish you’d just…”

You’re babbling, the drug pulsing through your system. And Steve knows better than to respond to your wistful, girlish, drugged up chatter. And yet…

“Niceness gets you nowhere,” he answers quietly, his large hand running up and down your back, his pointer finger tracing against the smooth skin of your arm. “Now go to sleep. That’s an order.”

“He was nice,” you say it so faintly that if it wasn’t for Steve’s advanced hearing, he wouldn’t have heard you. And there’s a certain dreamlike quality to your tone that incenses him to his very core. “He made me feel like a person, and his eyes were kind. I couldn’t stop thinking about them. He… he…”

You pass out, the drug finally kicking in. And you lie there in his arms, all soft and small and asleep. All while Steve remains deathly still, a certain darkness that he’s never quite felt before coursing through his veins.

A darkness that makes him want to choke his best and oldest friend to death.

Whew! Did you make it till the end? I sure hope so! I'd really love to know what you guys think! I am so nervous about this. I know that The Captain's Reward is probably my most popular story, so the sequel has big boots to fill. I really, really hope you guys enjoyed it. Please please do let me know what you think! Feedback, likes and reblogs would mean the whole world to me!

I've also come up with a few questions. But as always, you guys don't have to answer these! They're just for fun hehe. Any type of feedback would be amazing!

What did you think of Steve's proposal? LMAO.

Do you think Steve will grow softer towards reader? Or will he remain how he always is?

What do you think Steve will do to Bucky?

Anyways, I'm so scared to post this I feel like throwing up! I hope you guys enjoy it, thanks so much for being so patient! Love you, bye :)

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spiderwebbedhearts · 2 months ago

Text

literally every single one of these are incredible 🤩

WitchyWithWhiskey's Sweethearts Game Masterlist

happy valentine's day!! thank you to everyone who sent in asks for my sweethearts game!! (as a reminder, entries are closed!)

all fics have now been posted! i'm sorry if i didn't get to your request, it either came in after i hit the cap or didn't follow the rules. i hope y'all enjoy the sweet and smutty love fest ♡♡

here are all the fics:

be my cupid [smut] lloyd hansen, established relationship

bite me, baby [smut] ari levinson, ceo au, enemies to lovers

the demon of your dreams [smut] andy barber, soft!dark incubus au

more than chocolate [smut] steve rogers, husband/wife au

light up the night [fluff, smut] johnny storm, best friend au

off-limits [smut] jake jensen, bodyguard au

skincare routine [fluff, smut] ransom drysdale, boyfriend au

the vampire's pet [smut] curtis everett, vampire au

your favorite sweet treat [smut] andy barber, established relationship

a permanent brand [smut] curtis everett, established bdsm relationship

it's kind of a funny story [smut] bucky barnes, divorced neighbor au

taste so sweet [smut] lloyd hansen, brother's best friend au

sweet talk [smut] johnny storm, boyfriend au

better than the book [smut, fluff] ari levinson, best friend's brother au

everything for this event can be found under the #witchywithwhiskey's sweethearts tag on my blog.

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spiderwebbedhearts · 2 months ago

Note

THIS IS SO HOTTT

A NSFW part 2 to slasher!Andy ma’am I would actually die cause your mind is so powerful like 😮‍💨😍

Here we go 😈 warnings: 18+ content, rough smut, choking, creampie.

Night had fallen and you’d successfully snuck off from the crowd. Unbeknownst to everyone else, the clock struck 10 PM on Friday the 13th, Andy was set to begin his spree.

The kiddos were gone, your friends invited some others to the campground for a little rager for the weekend. You didn’t care much, honestly.

Not when all you could think about was what happened earlier with you and Andy, it had your heart racing with every thought. What was so different about you than anyone else that he killed? Why didn’t he kill you?

Why did you get so close? Why the hell did you want to kiss him?

But it didn’t matter, you kept to your word and found a good isolated moment to retreat off in the woods. Andy wasn’t there when you made it there but your eyesights in the dark tried to seek him out.

The sound of a tree limb breaking had you snapping around, Andy’s tall stature towering right behind you. “Jesus, you scared me half to death”

Andy stood before you, not having said anything at all, nor did he want to. He preferred to stare and drink you in, you were so fucking pretty to him.

He’d watched you from afar for as long as you’d been at the camp but it compared none to actually seeing you up close and being in your space.

You really brought out the inner school boy in him, you made him nervous.

“I uh, I’m glad you came though. Thank you for not killing me earlier, I don’t know what I did to deserve it but thank you”

You peered in his icy blues through the eye holes, you still remembered his face underneath the mask, Andy was a kind of handsome that gave you shivers. Sunken eyes with bags under them, pale, ginger red and brown scruffy beard, the fullest lips…

You softly took a hold of his forearm as you backed up, perching yourself against a nice wooden oak, his body gently collided with yours. A weird sense of pride filled you when his eyes widened a bit.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I’ll be honest, I was looking forward to tonight, to seeing you again” you were hesitant again when removing his mask, it felt good that he trusted you this much.

“I don’t know why you wear that thing but then again I kinda do. I don’t think people should see how handsome you are, honestly, I wanna be the only person that does” that took Andy’s breath away.

His heart beat steadily, a part of him felt like you could see and tell despite the composure he tried to keep up.

“I also want you to be the only person that sees things, that does things that other people haven’t” your nimble yet teasing hands began working your buttoned sweater, slowly pulling it open to reveal your bare chest.

The faint sound of a groan from the tall man had you smirking as the article dropped to the ground. His hands shook in anticipation, he just wanted to—

“Here” you grabbed both of his hands and placed the open palms on your breasts, “you can touch them. For you, you can do anything you want to them, you can do anything you want to me”

Andy let off a grunt, feeling the full warmth of your tits under his hands, he could feel your nipples begin to harden. They looked so pretty under the moonlight. Not wanting to waste time, he softly squeezed them, tearing a whimper from you.

“That feels really good” you whispered seductively, your eyes held so much emotion and feeling. Pupils absolutely blown in lust.

“But I want you to do more. I’ll be honest, I came out here for many reasons, I want to make the best of it before they come looking for me”

Andy wanted to laugh, nobody would do that, they weren’t that stupid or that ballsy, liquid courage or not. You had plenty of time. He had plenty of time and he wanted to tear you apart.

Not in that way.

He growled lowly, snaking his hand to dip between your parted legs only to discover that you were just as bare as you were under your sweater. So fucking naughty. He felt around your wetness, so warm..

His fingers explored, he found that the more he did that, the more sweet noises he could pull from you and you were pretty noisy. He fucking liked it.

And similar to you, he wanted more.

“Oh!” You gasped when Andy hauled you in his arms, legs linking around his taut waist. One arm dropped to free himself from his jumpsuit, he was hard and ready as ever.

He quickly found your entrance and began sinking you down on him, the both of you crying out when Andy bottomed out. He was huge and snug inside of you, you weren’t new to sex but you’d never had anyone his size, and God did it feel good.

His forehead leant against yours as his eyes shut briefly. “S-so t-tight” , his thrusts were experimental at first, mostly for himself. He had to see if he was dreaming, fucking the prettiest and nicest girl with the tightest pussy. Was this real?

Your moans were confirmation, Andy was doing more than you could ask. His thickness plunging in and out of you, grazing your walls wonderfully.

Andy fucked you nicely, he had a cadence about the way he wanted to ruin you, with every thrust in and out, your walls welcomed his girth. He slowly grew obsessed with being inside of you.

Once Andy found a rhythm, he dropped you down, caging your back against his chest, he kicked your feet apart some more and quickly pushed himself back into you. His large forearm closed over your collarbones, a little over your throat to keep you in place.

This new position entered a new pace, Andy fucked with vigor and a newfound roughness to the kind of energy he had with you. He fucked you like he hated you. Your body— your breasts jutting forward with the power he was giving you.

And you couldn’t shut up either. You didn’t care for how loud you were, mumbling incoherently about how good you were feeling.

“Fuck! Fuck don’t stop, please” your arm reached back to lace in Andy’s hair, keeping a careful yet firm grip, you needed something to grab onto. Andy found something as well, your chest. One hand held your hip tightly, the other was having a field day playing with your tits.

He turned his head to where your face was, eyes taking in what he was doing to you, he loved it. Then suddenly your mouth was on his, the first kiss of the night. It took Andy a second to realize what was happening but he soon found the beat.

For a serial killer that only had social interaction when he was killing people, he was a hell of a kisser. He groaned once your tongues met one another’s, it was safe to say he was obsessed with you.

“‘M gonna cum, I’m right there baby please don’t stop” you cried, your desperate fingers seeking out your clit and rubbing circles in your sopping flesh.

Your orgasm had you seeing black spots, your body squirming in Andy’s hold, he wasn’t letting up, you were gonna take everything he had to give you, especially with you being the tease you were.

Andy followed up shortly after you came down, both hands putting crescent mail imprints on the skin of your hips as he fucked you wildly, then his body went rigid, a flood of his warm cum filled your body like a basin.

Andy bit down on your shoulder when he came, his groans were faint but you made them out.

And when it felt like it was over, it wasn’t, he had so much to give you and he wasn’t done. You could call him pent up but he’d never seen someone like you, that made him feel the things he felt, that teased him, that just did thing to him.

It felt like hours when Andy finally calmed down and had nothing else to offer your gorgeous body, he pulled out and tucked himself back into his jumpsuit.

He watched you turn around and press yourself against him, your soft lips making out his instantly. The tall man hesitantly draped his arms around your waist, liking this newfound comfort.

“I go back home in five weeks but I still wanna see you before then”

Andy nodded, giving your waist a squeeze, he liked that idea a lot.

“I gotta shower and freshen up, you really made a mess of me” that earned Andy a wink and a peck to the mouth, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?”

That earned you a groan and a hard smack to your ass, you’d take that as a yes. And with that, you collected yourself as best as you could and retreated off into the vegetation, stomach fluttering in excitement.

Fucking a serial killer with good dick until you had to leave for the summer? You like how that sounded.

…

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spiderwebbedhearts · 2 months ago

Text

this is 🔥🔥🔥

Thrown Around and Manhandled » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Week of October 27th-31st

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Female Reader

Summary: You get thrown around and manhandled a little by the Winter Soldier.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, manhandling, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, metal arm kink, size kink, choking, hair pulling, spanking, orgasm denial, degradation, name calling (slut, whore), pet names

A/N: I used Google translate for the Russian translations. My apologies if I got anything wrong.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

Halloween divider made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

The sound of a door being opened echoed through the room. You were sitting on the small bed when someone walked in the room. It was the Winter Soldier. He closed the door behind him. He walked towards the bed. His eyes never left you for a second.

“Stand up.” The Winter Soldier demands.

You didn’t dare to move a muscle. You stayed in your spot on the bed. A squeak left your lips when his right hand grabbed your arm with a bruising grip and yanked you up from the bed so you were standing up.

“When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it.” He says, his face close to yours.

“Y-Yes, Soldat.” You replied with a stutter.

His hand released your arm and shoved you back on the small bed. You sat up on your elbows, looking up at him. He studied your body language. He watched the way your chest rose and fell as you breathed.

He then leaned over you, placing his right hand next to your head while his metal hand grasped your jaw with a firm grip. Not hard enough to hurt you. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, kissing you roughly. You moaned against his lips.

You were so distracted by him kissing you that you didn’t realize his metal hand left your jaw. His metal hand found the neckline of your shirt and ripped it off, throwing the ruined fabric somewhere in the room. You gasped against his lip when you felt the cool metal of his metal hand touching your skin.

“Are you going to hurt me?” You asked nervously.

“No.” He simply answers.

His metal hand found its way to your breasts, giving it a squeeze. A tingle went through your body when his metal fingers pinched your nipple. He repeated his actions with your other breast.

“Такая красивая.” He mutters in Russian.

His lips moved down to your neck, kissing all over. A whimper left your lips when he bit your neck. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough for a hickey. He pulled his lips away from your neck to look at the hickey that was starting to appear on your skin.

“Мой.” He says, looking at the hickey.

His hands found their way to the waistband of your sleep shorts, yanking them down along with your panties. You are now naked and fully exposed to him.

You watched his right hand go in between your legs, his fingers grazing over your pussy, making you gasp and grab his wrist out of instinct. That resulted in him wrapping his metal hand around your throat, giving you a warning look. You stared in his blue eyes that are now dark with lust and let go of his wrist and let him do whatever he’s about to do to you.

Without warning, he slid two of his metal fingers in your pussy. A loud moan fell from your lips. His fingers moved in and out of your pussy at a fast pace.

“Fuck!” You moaned.

“You liked that, don’t you, кукла?” He says huskily.

You moaned and nodded in response, but that wasn’t enough for him. His right hand grasped your jaw, making you look him in the eye.

“I expect you to answer me when I’m talking to you.” He almost growls.

“Yes!” You finally said. “I like it!” You tell him. “So much!” You say.

He smirks and let go of your jaw after he got the answer he wanted. Your hands grasped onto the sheet beneath you, clutching the thin fabric in your hands. The cool feeling of his metal fingers felt so fucking good in your pussy. You love the feeling of them rubbing along your walls.

He unexpectedly curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. Your hips bucked against his metal hand and a loud moan fell from your lips. He placed his right hand on your stomach to hold you down so you couldn’t move.

“No moving.” He said.

His fingers sped up their thrusts. His metal thumb began to rub your clit, applying pressure. Your hands clutched the sheets tighter. Your head tilted back against the mattress and your eyes fluttered shut. The Winter Soldier didn’t like that. He wants your eyes on him at all times, especially right now.

“Open your eyes.” He demands. “Don’t make me ask you again.” He says.

You obeyed his demand and opened your eyes and lifted your head so you were looking at him. His fingers curled again, hitting your sweet spot again. Strings of moans left your lips when he did so. Your orgasm began to build up the more his fingers curled against your sweet spot.

“I-I’m close.” You moaned, almost whimpering.

“No.” Is all he said.

He abruptly took his fingers out of your pussy, making you whine and throw your head back against the mattress in frustration. His right hand grabbed your jaw again, getting you to look at him.

“What the hell have I told you about your fucking whining?” He asks, his face getting close to yours.

“Not to.” You answered.

“Then quit your fucking whining before I give you something to whine about.” He says.

He gave you a rough kiss before letting go of your jaw. He pulled away from your lips to stand up straight. He grabbed your arm, pulling you up from the bed. He turned you around so you were facing the bed and pushed you onto the bed. You were now laying on your stomach. You looked over your shoulder, glancing back at him.

“Eyes forward.” He orders, turning your head so you were looking at the wall in front of you.

A tingle went through your body when you heard the sound of the zipper of his tactical pants being unzipped. He pulled down his tactical pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out. He put his hands on your hips, forcefully lifting you up enough so your knees were on the mattress and your ass was in the air. His right hand landed a harsh smack on your ass, making you squeak. A red hand print mark would soon appear.

You felt the mattress dip behind you in between your legs. You shivered when you felt the cool metal of his metal hand against your upper back. His metal hand pushed your upper body against the mattress, keeping you in place. He wrapped his right hand around his hard cock, stroking it a couple times before lining it at your wet and tight entrance. Your hands clutched the sheet again, bracing yourself for his cock, knowing how big he is. Your mouth fell open and a whimper left your lips when he slid his cock in your pussy. The stretch from his cock stung, but it also felt good.

The Winter Soldier gave you no warning and no time to adjust to his size whatsoever when he started thrusting. His thrusts were fast and rough, but you were all for it. His metal hand slid up to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulled you up so your back was against the front of his body. You winced at the tight grip his hand had on your hair, but you didn’t complain one bit.

“You like it when I do this, don’t you, кукла?” He says in your ear.

“Mhmm, yes!” You answered.

He chuckled lowly in your ear. The Winter Soldier can easily throw you around if he wants. Not in a way to hurt you. If you’re being honest, you like it when he basically throws you around like a rag doll and manhandles you. He knows it too. It catches you off guard sometimes, but other than that, you like it.

His metal hand left your hair and snaked its way to your throat, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing it, not hard enough to cut off your airway. You moaned at the feeling of it. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. You brought a hand up to his metal wrist and wrapped your hand around it, keeping his metal hand there.

“Fuck, you’re such a whore for my metal arm.” He growls, squeezing your throat a bit tighter.

You moaned at the feeling. He sped up his thrusts. His pelvis pressed up against your ass every time he thrusted. The material of his tactical pants rubbed against your skin. The sound of skin slapping and the smell of sex filled the room.

“You like being my own personal cockslut, don’t you, кукла?” He says, his voice sounding husky.

“Y-Yes!” You moaned.

Your moans urges him on. His thrusts became harder. His right hand found its way to your clit, his fingers rubbing you clit vigorously. You arched your back off of his body. Your pussy squeezed around his cock. The Winter Soldier moaned at the feeling. At this point, your nails were digging into his metal wrist. Your legs began shaking from the amount of pleasure you were receiving. That’s when you felt your lower stomach tighten. Your orgasm was building up so fast. Your moans got louder and high pitched.

“Oh f-fuck!” You moaned. “Can I cum please?” You asked.

“No.” Is all he said.

“Please!” You begged.

“I don’t care how much you beg. You’re coming when I do.” He says.

You squeezed your eyes shut. It took everything in you to hold back and not cum. You were right there too, but he told you to hold it. Your pussy fluttered around his cock once more, making his cock twitch inside of you. His orgasm was building up too. He is just as close to coming as you are.

“Fuck!” He moans as he came inside of you.

His cum painted your walls. There was a white ring of cum around his cock as he continued to fuck you.

“Cum.” He says, finally giving you permission.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came hard, soaking his cock and the front of his tactical pants.

“Good girl.” He praises, patting your clit a couple times.

He gave your clit a rough rub before he stopped rubbing it. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He let go of your throat and pulled his cock out of you. You nearly lost your balance on your knees. He spun you around, manhandling you. You moaned against your lips when he kissed you roughly. He pulled away and pushed you backwards. You fell back on the bed. The Winter Soldier glanced down at you cum filled pussy. His right hand reached down and his thumb began rubbing your sensitive clit. You whimpered and squirmed. He chuckled lowly. He put his cock back in his boxers and zipped and buttoned them back up.

“Until next time, кукла.” He says softly, lightly patting your cheek with his metal hand.

-Bucky’s Doll

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spiderwebbedhearts · 2 months ago

Text

aww I love how sweet the end was 🥺🥺

where were we, angel?

pornstar!ari levinson x pornstar!fem!reader (pornstar!fem!reader x toxic bf!pornstar!steve rogers)

sequel to recover (read that first angels)

when you and Ari are filming another scene, things get more intimate than they were supposed to. what a shame Steve walked in to see it. heavy smut. toxic Steve. mean Ari + reader lol (Steve deserves it). 18+. 2.3k words.

The blinking light on the camera was a sign that you had been at this too long. But the both of you had stopped looking at the camera a long time ago. And his hands were so soft and sweet, and your pleasure was endless, crawling up your spine until it brought a smile to your face.

“Oh, that feels good,” you said as Ari manhandled you gently into a new position, laying on your side at the edge of the bed, knees to your chest, adjusting to the size of him as he started fucking you sideways. His eyes met yours as he smiled down at you and dug his fingers into the flesh of your thigh, using your body as leverage for his relentless thrusts. He was such an enigma; one minute he was crushing himself against you softly, lining up his body with yours so perfectly that you could feel his heart beating with yours, and the next he was folding you up so tightly that you couldn’t escape him as he sped up the pace of your fucking.

Honestly, you had lost count of the number of times the two of you had “filmed” together, banking up hours and hours of footage that went unposted. You barely managed to convince yourself that the reason the footage went unedited was practical - you couldn’t find the time, you didn’t have the proper resources. But the real reason was that every time you opened your laptop to edit it, you ended up pleasuring yourself, the sounds of another you being fucked echoing in your headphones. It was the reaction you had to every video of him, only this time you were the lucky girl being bounced on his cock, or fucked from behind, or on your knees with him deep down your throat.

Ari seemed to have more willpower than you - since you had started filming together, Ari’s page had been updated with numerous videos and pictures of the two of you, as well as a few with other women he had filmed with before you started… doing what you were doing. Which was exclusively creating content together, sneaking over to each other’s apartments whenever Steve wasn’t around. Your page hadn’t been so fruitful lately, the only updates had been a few short videos of yourself masturbating and pictures Ari would take of you post-hookup, with his cum covering your pussy or face or ass, or you in some new lingerie.

“Holy shit, angel,” he said, bending over you to meet you in a kiss, “you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard.” Just to tease him, you clenched on his cock and rocked your hips back in his direction, making his hands latch onto you harder and the next thrust of his cock go deeper. The both of you let out loud moans at the feeling of him being completely inside you, up to the hilt. Your noises drowned out the click of the camera as it ran out of battery and switched itself off.

“You fuck me so good, baby.” You wrapped a hand around the back of Ari’s neck, whispering against his lips and punctuating your words with desperate kisses. Ari leaned over you more, his hands gripping the sheets at the side of your head as he drove himself into you harder and faster, each thrust ending in a loud slap as your ass and thighs met his hips.

“You love it, don’t you, sweet girl? Tell me how much you love it.” Ari’s forehead was on yours, his gaze streaming into yours as you looked up at him, at his face; his perfect lips framing his perfect smile and his perfect eyes filled with an emotion you didn’t want to acknowledge… an emotion that you tried not to let yourself mirror, just yet. You were struck in the center of your chest with fear as you tried to bottle those emotions back up, as you tried to remind yourself that this was just a performance, and you were a woman with a commitment to a boyfriend who loved you… at the moment.

Ari’s grand and dopey smile that you loved so much started waning at the corners, “Hey, my girl, what’s going on?” Ari wasn’t always the most observant guy, but something about you made him hyper-focused. You were his obsession, and after so many nights of being in this exact position, he had come to learn how to read your body, and your eyes, and your noises.

“Nothing, baby. Keep going.” You screwed the lid back on the bottle in your chest as you leaned up to kiss Ari again, before you turned yourself onto your stomach, your hips nestled on the corner of the mattress, your toes meeting the floor. Ari flattened his chest against your back and started deepening and lengthening his movements. His cock stroked your walls slowly, before he pulled out to the tip, then shoved the rest of his inches inside in a punishing thrust.

“I know what you’re doing, angel.” His deep voice was ominous as he kissed the back of your neck. As you were trying to hold yourself together, to not start sobbing at the mounting pressure in your belly as your orgasm crept closer, Ari was grabbing a hold of your hands and intertwining your fingers together, stretching your arms above your head on the bed so you were completely surrendered to his harsh thrusts.

“I’m not… oh my fucking god… I’m not doing anything, baby.”

“You’re hiding from me.” You barely managed to comprehend what he said as he pulled out of you suddenly, leaving you terribly empty and moaning to be filled up again. Ari gripped one of your shoulders and pushed you onto your back; he nodded towards the headboard, and you followed his order and started shuffling up the bed until your head was on your pillow.

Ari watched you with gentle eyes. He was so smitten, and he was so tired of pushing his feelings to the back of his mind every time he touched you - he was showing everything he felt for you on his face tonight. Your interactions were already more intimate than any other he had had in this business. Sometimes you wanted to be fucked hard and rough, wanted to be dragged around by your hair and turned into a crying, needy slut - but Ari could only push himself so far. He could speed up his thrusts and go deeper, but he couldn’t even bring himself to call you a degrading name, let alone spank you. You were his precious angel.

Ari started crawling his was up to you, “What’s my girl not tellin’ me, huh?”

“Ari…” you whined, reaching out for him as he picked up your legs behind your knees, pushed them up to your chest to open you up, and slid himself back home in one slow and steady thrust. He then wrapped your legs around his waist and moved so his elbows held his weight on either side of your head, framing your face with his arms. You instinctively grabbed a hold of his biceps as he started thrusting into you, wanting your hands to be on him, always.

“What is it, angel? What’s going on?” His fingers started sifting through your hair to massage your scalp. You were so in awe of him; his instinct to be your caretaker, to be your partner, to be your lover, that you couldn’t help the tears that beaded at the corners of your eyes.

“I think…I might be…” Your tears streamed a little harder as you tried to push it all out, trying to tell him that you were in love with him. But it was okay, because he understood, he was looking down at you with the exact same expression on his face - one filled with love for his person, passion for your relationship that you were determined to keep a hold of, and contempt for the difficult situation you had found yourselves in. That contempt was also aimed at the man the two of you hadn’t heard coming in the front door.

“I get it, angel… me too.” Ari’s forehead met yours again, the both of you closing your eyes as his hips stuttered and your orgasms finally caught up to you in a wave.

“I love it, I love your cock, baby,” you whimpered, clawing at his back, your nails leaving the pink gouges behind that he loved so much, “Cum inside me, I need your cum inside, baby.”

“I know, beautiful… I’m gonna fill up this pretty pussy for you.”

And then you could feel his warm cum leaking into your belly, filling you up just like you wanted, whilst his arms encircled you and held you close, and your hands gripped his back, pulling him closer to crush his body against yours, not an inch of space between you. He kissed you roughly, forcing your head back deeper into the pillow, tasting you. A minute later, Ari leaned back, still leaning over you, his hands holding him up by your head, and he looked down at you, at your mixed juices slowly leaking out around his length, still buried inside you.

“Baby, no. Stay there,” you demanded, using your last bit of strength to wrap your legs around his hips and keep him deep inside. With your hips flush together, you reached up and pulled Ari back down towards you by his shoulders, before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his jaw, his beard tickling your face.

The both of you were too distracted making out to notice the shadows shifting under the door, the handle turning, and the door inching open. Steve was seething at the sight of you two, “You dirty fuckin’ whore.”

Here we go.

Your eyes snapped open and widened as you wretched your lips away from Ari’s, but your hands stayed firmly on his shoulders as you pushed him back and sat up. Your “Steve, what?” was accompanied by a loud “You watch your fuckin’ mouth” from Ari, defending you from the get-go.

“Fuck off, Levinson. You’ve just been balls deep inside my girlfriend, I have a right to be pissed off.” Steve whined, pointing his finger to his chest as if to remind you both again who you belonged to, but you hardly noticed that, as you were too busy righting yourself on the bed, sitting with your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. Despite the serious and embarrassing moment, you were also trying to hide a giggle at Ari’s “damn right I was.”

“Steve, we’re just recording…” The words left your mouth with less certainty than you wanted, and the expression on your face was one of obvious false confidence, causing Ari to chuckle and avert his gaze down to the bedsheets, the one’s he was still sitting proudly on, doing nothing to hide his manhood, almost daring Steve to look and see it, with the remnants of your lovemaking still shining on it.

“Y/n, the camera isn’t even on! Do you think I’m fuckin’ stupid?” Steve’s voice was slowly rising, but you tried to appease him by rambling on about how sorry you were and how the battery ran out… but you also started talking to drown out Ari’s “Yup, you are fuckin’ stupid.”

“Jesus, Y/n… cut the shit. You’ve been fucking this guy for weeks, not posting any content, just fucking him for fun, and you think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been up to?”

This time you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t fein sadness and guilt - you laughed. A loud chuckle that shocked Steve so much it sent him back a step. “Fucking finally. Took you long enough to notice, asshole.”

“What?”

“Steve, what do I have to do to convince you that I don’t give a shit about this relationship anymore, huh?” You spread your arms wide, pointing towards the bed, the camera, and of course, Ari, who was now happily leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed over his broad chest and legs crossed at the ankles. “Do I need to stand in front of you with another man’s cum leaking out my pussy? Because I’ll stand up right now.”

“Ew, babe, what?” Steve looked so genuinely defeated, another giggle bubbled up out of you as Steve went on, “You don’t care about us anymore?”

“Are you kidding? You just stood there and called me a whore,” you said disapprovingly, like a teacher talking down to a student, “I don’t think I’ve cared about this relationship since everything happened with Peggy. And I know your excuses were bullshit, Steven, I know you cheated on me.” You shook your head for added effect, even looking back to Ari who joined you in your disappointment with an animated sign and an eye roll, making you laugh.

“So, thanks for ruining this perfect moment with my girl, Rogers, but I think it’s time for you to go,” Ari said, pushing himself up off the bed and walking Steve out of your bedroom. The fact that Steve wasn’t even fighting back, fighting for you, really put the cherry on the cake - there was nothing appealing about this man. He was a controlling, conniving, cheating piece of shit, and you had made it out of the other side of his hell with your dignity and happiness still intact… and the sexiest man alive was coming back to bed with you in a second.

You heard the door to your apartment slam and Ari’s heavy footfalls coming back to your bedroom, where you were still sitting in the middle of the bed.

“Where were we, angel?”

“I believe I was in the middle of telling you that I love you, baby.”

“Well that’s good,” Ari said, reaching for your ankles and dragging you to the edge of the bed, where he leaned over you and grabbed you face, “because I love you too.”

Then he kissed you.

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spiderwebbedhearts · 2 months ago

Note

I LOVEEE THISSS 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Hello! I have a request please! Loving the idea of bucky and reader having a relationship/hookup but not staying together. Then reader gets a new bf, but bucky catches her still wearing his own shirt to bed or something, and teases her about wishing they were still together etc. you decide how it ends 😈 have been listening to “smells like me” by Charlie Puth lately and can’t stop thinking about this scenario!!

18+

I love this and ofc this is going to have a happy fluffy ending but some angst and steaminess throughout because I am a sucker for this type of scenario.

Some angst, jealousy, possessive horny Bucky, all the smut, Bucky's filthy mouth, needy sex, some cheating but i promise it adds to the spice okay? (plus the guy is a loser)

It was a mutual decision to break up. At least that’s what you both told yourselves. It started off as a mutual transaction; just hooking up and staying friends with benefits so nothing would get complicated. You and Bucky fucked like rabbits in every position and every surface imaginable. Things were great, until they weren’t.

You caught feelings. He kept his hidden.

Bucky didn’t think he could do a relationship. You wanted more.

He initiated the break up and while it hurt you, you both agreed it was for the best since you wanted different things.

That was months ago.

Moving on wasn’t easy but you weren’t going to waste your life away crying over someone who didn’t want you. You started dating again and eventually you found something relatively stable. Things were fine. Good. Bucky had avoided you completely after the break up but took a sudden interest in you again after he found out you were seeing someone.

“So, you’re actually into this guy?” He raised an eyebrow, hanging around the kitchen, unable to contain his curiosity after he saw you arrive home from your date. He felt a drop of something deep in his chest, seeing you in a dress he had never seen before. His knuckles were nearly white, clenching his hands to his sides to keep himself in check but his jaw clenched hearing the click of your heels against the tile floor.

All dressed up for some other man.

“Mhm” You shrugged, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, avoiding eye contact with the super solider. You were over him. You were so over him. You had a boyfriend and you were over Bucky. You had to be. “Why else would I go out with him”

“He doesn’t seem like your type” Bucky sassed, hoping to mask the bubbling jealousy that continued to rise in his chest.

“Oh, and you know what my type is?” You spat back, turning on your heel to glare at him. “You’re an expert on who I should date?”

“I’m just saying” He took a few steps towards you, “I thought you had better standards” He knew what he was doing, biting his lip, watching your chest heave, the eyes that used to roll back from pleasure now throwing daggers at him.

“Well I like him. Who I date isn’t any of your concern anyway James” Your nails dug into your palms, deciding against entertaining his shit any longer, holding your tongue back. Bucky felt something pang in his stomach watching the way your hips swayed as you stormed off to your room without looking back.

****

Bucky couldn’t stand it.

He figured you’d drop this guy eventually but it only got worse.

You brought your boyfriend around the compound more.

He’d occasionally stay for movie night.

Bucky would have to watch you cuddle up with him, the both of you going back to your room after for God knows what. He’d see the guy sitting in the living room, waiting for you to get ready for your dates. For fucks sake, he was even there at breakfast after he spent the night over.

Every time your boyfriend did something, Bucky would mentally correct him. He could see your body tense whenever he put his arm around you; you liked being held securely and this guys arm dangled lightly behind your waist. He never gave you his full attention when you spoke, never remembered the little details about you. Bucky was sure he had caught him flirting with some of the other agents, holding himself back from punching him in the jaw.

Fuck, he didn’t even kiss you properly. It was too hesitant, too gentle, Bucky knew how you loved to be kissed, how to make you weak in the knees. He would have ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it back, tilting your face up, to look at him. He would have cupped your cheeks, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other gently wrapped around your neck, his teeth gently nipping your lips. He wouldn’t have given a fuck about people being around, if you were his girl he would have-

No. Never mind.

Your new boyfriend clearly didn’t know what he was doing anywhere. On more than one occasion, Tony had a shit eating grin on his face because Bucky had you screaming over the sound proof walls.

Why the fuck were you with him when should have been with..

Someone else.

Though there was one other thing Bucky had noticed. One thing he made note of multiple times, his ego growing more every time it happened.

You wandered down to the kitchen before bed to get a glass of water, stopping when your eyes landed on the brunette super solider, his sweats low on his hips, his upper body on full display after he left his hoodie in the gym. You decided to ignore him, grabbing a cup and filling it, your breath hitching hearing his low voice.

“I thought that shirt looked familiar” He took a few steps towards you, noting the way you kept your eyes trained on your glass. “You look comfy”

“I-

“You what” Bucky smirked, his eyes raking up and down your bare legs, cocking his head while you backed yourself against the counter. “What is it sweets”

“Nothing” you swallowed thickly, mentally scolding yourself for getting caught wearing his Henley to bed. You had no excuse, you had plenty of your own over sized t-shirts you could have worn but....

“Does your boyfriend know where you got that shirt, why you sleep with it almost every night” You couldn't bring yourself to speak, shaking your head, heart racing. “You know I noticed you wear it all the time, even when your snuggled up with him. You just can’t stop yourself can you, he’s not the same”

He’s not you.

“You still think about me, hm?” Bucky couldn't help himself, a part of him knowing he had no right to look at you like that, you had a boyfriend but his body was moving on its own, pressing you against the counter, his lips dropping to your ear. “Does he fuck like I can?”

“Bucky stop” You tried to ignore the shiver that ran through your body, his hips pressing against you, his erection digging into your hip. You bit your lip, trying to keep your hands from palming his chest, avoiding his eyes.

“Tell me, does he touch you like I do?” He kept his hands to his sides but he couldn't help but rock his hips against you, his cock achingly hard, desperate for some relief. He let out a strained groan, precum starting to dampen his brief's.

“Bucky-” You tried to push him away from you but he pressed himself against you harder, your back digging against the counter. “Stop” Your voice was a whimper, you knew you could have pushed him off if you wanted to...you should have...

“Does he make love to you like me, reach that spot that makes you scream?” His nose dragged along the column of your neck, his tongue gliding across your skin, filthy mouth unrelenting.

“Does his cock fill you like mine does”

No.

“Does he nurse on your clit like I do, suck and kiss that sweet, pretty little nub of yours until his face is soaked with your cum? Does he lick and drink your sweetness like I do baby, does he get hard just off the way you taste?”

No.

“Does he make himself cum on your bed from just rubbing himself on it when he’s between those thighs? Does he worship your body like I do princess, tell me, does he stroke his cock every night, moaning for you?”

No.

“Does he paint your body with cum, does it clean it off nice? Lick off every drop of the mess he makes like I do? You miss that, don’t you baby, you miss my hot cum on your body, you miss my warm tongue cleaning you up right afterwards? You miss it filling your pussy up and dripping onto the sheets, you miss the way I fuck it right back into you and have you suck if off my cock”

You didn’t even realize you had parted your legs, letting his thigh press against your needy cunt, your hips rocking and grinding on him as he continued to lure you to him, he couldn't hold back any longer.

“Look at you rubbing yourself on me princess, he doesn’t satisfy you does he?” You let out a broken moan, grinding on his thigh harder while gripping onto the counter, it was wrong, you knew it was wrong but it all felt so right.

“I know he doesn’t, I know you still touch yourself thinking about me, these sweet little fingers-” He grabbed your hand, nipping your finger tips with his teeth, “-aren’t enough are they baby, his cock isn’t enough, you need mine, huh doll?”

You tried to shake your head but you nodded instead, there was no point in lying now. Bucky growled, grabbing your hips, helping you rock yourself on him more.

“Tell me you need my cock”

“I-I need-fuck-”

“Say it baby, tell me you need me to fill your pussy up”

“B-Bucky” Your thighs squeezed together around his, your body nearly trembling feeling his lips suck onto your neck.

“That’s not what you call me, c’mon, say it”

“Daddy”

“That’s it” He cooed, sliding his hands down your panties, finding your soaked cunt dripping for him, your body easily betraying you. “So wet for daddy already” He shoved his fingers up your needy cunt, crooking them to rub against your sweet spot making you bite down onto his bare shoulder to keep your screams down.

“Tell daddy you want his fat cock baby”

“Wan’ it daddy” You nearly wailed at the stretch of his fingers alone, nothing compared to the feel of the cool metal scissoring and pumping in you, moving faster. Bucky could tell by the way you bit down harder, your nails digging into his skin, you were close. He pulled his fingers out, shoving them in his mouth instead, greedily sucking off your arousal.

“MMmgh, God you’re so sweet- Fuck this” Bucky grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder, taking you straight to his room and throwing you onto his bed. He got rid of his sweats and brief's within seconds, stripping you naked immediately after. He crawled on top of your body, parting your legs, his warm breath fanning your face. You whined at the feel of his length rutting against your core, a part of your brain screaming at you to stop.

“Bucky, we can’t” You couldn't help but spread your legs further, bringing your thighs up.

“Can’t what” His hand snaked down to line his cock up, rubbing the head onto your clit.

“I-you know I can’t” You shook your head, panting as he pressed against it further, making you moan.

“You don’t want it?” He nudged his tip against your clenching pussy, prodding against your entrance leaving you reeling. “Tell me”

“Bucky, please, I-”

“Please what princess”

“We can’t, we can’t we can’t we-oh god, fuck, FUCKK” You threw your head back as he pushed his cock into your soaked pussy, not wasting any time, his hips snapping, pounding you into the mattress. Your legs wrapped around his waist, crying and chanting his name as his cock hit all the right spots, stretching you the way you craved.

Bucky moaned into your neck, your pussy gripping onto him, puling him back in with each thrust, fluttering and clenching around him.

“M’never letting you go again” Bucky grabbed your writs, pinning them against the bed above your head, pulling his knees up to fuck you deeper. “I need you”

“Fuckkkk James” Tears streaked your face, the silky tip of his cock rubbing and stroking your sweet spot repeatedly, his balls slapping against your ass.

“O-only I can make you moan like this” He picked his pace up, fucking you harder, sitting back on his heels and holding your legs apart. “Don’t think i didn’t hear you sweets, touching yourself thinking about me even when you were with him”

He spat onto your clit, his thumb rubbing soft circles making your back arch in pleasure.

“I touched myself to you too baby, thought about you every damn day with my cock in my fist. I missed you so bad, I wanted to fuck and make love to you, wanted every piece of you”

“Please-James”

Bucky got lost in the feeling of you, desperate to be as close as possible. He dropped your legs, falling on top of you and wrapping his arms around your body. He rolled you over so you were on top, holding you close while he thrusted up into you.

“I’ll never let you go again y/n, you’re mine, you’re all fucking mine baby”

“Don’t let me go James” You moaned into his neck, clinging onto his body while his cock throbbed, his pace growing sloppy.

“No, look at me” His eyes were glassy, one hand cupping your face to make you look at him. “I love you, I fucking love you, please princess” He fucked you harder, his moans mixed with yours filling the room, your lips brushing against his. “Fuck- I love you”

“I love you” You cried out, your pussy fluttering, the band in your belly about to snap.

“Cum for me baby, c’mon, cum on my dick, make a mess on me, soak my cock and balls with your cum angel, give it to me”

“JAMES FUCK” Your orgasm ripped through your body, falling limp on him while he pounded up into you, your moans and screams bouncing off the walls. Bucky held you tighter, his cock twitching unable to hold back any more, his balls pulled tight to his body.

“M’gonna cum” He moaned, desperately holding onto you while you kissed him, swallowing his moans. “Oh fuck, m’gonna cum y/n”

“Cum James, fill me up bubba” You cooed softly in his ear, kissing his temple while he let out a throatily groan, his body tensing, cock swelling.

“FUCKK M’cumming so. fucking. hard for you baby, it’s all for you God-fuck-it’s all for you” His body stilled, his warm seed filling you till it dripped out. “Wanna be the only one to cum in you like this, you’re mine” He continued to rut into you, whining at the overstimulation, his cock still dribbling with cum “Can’t even stop cumming for you baby, fuck it won’t stop” He continued to moan and lightly thrust into you until he emptied his cock, the sheets damp from his load.

You both laid in silence, giving each other soft kisses, his arms still secure around you, holding you close to his chest. You couldn't ignore the way your heart fluttered, you shouldn’t have been there, none of this should have happened and yet...

“Stay”

You looked up at him while he brought you closer, kissing your forehead.

“Please stay”

“Bucky, you didn’t want me until-

“I was a fucking idiot, I love you, baby please stay” His eyes were pleading with you, clinging onto you tighter. You knew you should have gone back to your room but for some reason this felt right. You melted into his embrace, letting him cuddle you. “You’re mine”

“Bucky, my boy-

“I want to be your boyfriend. Please. I’m sorry sweets, I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I-I want you to be mine”

You thought for a moment, the way you couldn't pull yourself away from him, falling right into his embrace, not feeling anything for anyone else, all your feelings just for him.

“I’m yours” You mumbled against his skin, falling asleep in his bed, your heart finally back where it belonged.

(and ofc you break up with your loser boyfriend after, cause he was useless anyway)

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @carrotfantasimp

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spiderwebbedhearts · 2 months ago

Text

this is soooo hottt omg

CHILLS

Summary: Bestie, you’re taking a trip to another dimension on them cocks.

Pairings: Nick Fowler x Manager!reader x Rockstar!Bucky

Word Count: 7k+

Warnings: literal shameless filth, rough fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face fucking, deep-throating, edging, overstimulation, degradation, pegging (Bucky’s pegging Nick, yup you read that right), name-calling (slut, cumdump, whore, sir, daddy and many more), crying kink, facial, face slapping, squirting, spit kink, titty fucking, lingerie kink, mirror sex, cussing, mentions of drugs and drug dealings.

Author’s Note: Another filthy threesome, enjoy. Hope you guys enjoy it and don’t forget to reblog and comment. I love hearing what all of you have to say about my work. I'm sorry if this isn't good enough, I'm really fucking tired lol.

thanks to @ashfaceiwa @commonintrest @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @kaitioo @chrisfucksblog @moongoddessmox @buckysswinter @s-tarksintern @mayasreadingnook @late-to-the-party-81 for helping me

DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, TRANSLATE OR DO ANY OF THAT CHEAP SHIT.

Power.

A few letters that have possessed every last inch of Bucky Barnes’ being from the first moment he performed in public. His chest seized and a rush of excitement ran through every element he was built of as if to bring to his attention the sheer grasp he had on people without having to spare them a single thought.

Not a single acknowledgment of their existence did Bucky have, and they had devoted their whole lives to him.

He had everything, from people falling at his feet just to breathe the same air as him, to everything he even thought of wanting to appear in front of him. It was as if every word spoken by him was woven with a spell that helped any thought manifest itself out of thin air.

But the need could never be quenched when there seemed to be better gifted to feed his greed, emerging from his desire to own more and more. Wings grew and fangs got sharper, ready to feast on something greater, something achievable to only Bucky’s greed.

For months, Nick Fowler had been the next big feast, the next shiny trophy Bucky had been making space for on his shelf, ever since Nick had set his eyes on the possessions that Bucky held, although mostly it had been the drugs that Nick craved to get under his hold. Another mighty possession, another dash of danger intertwined with his name.

Bucky had no interest in keeping the drugs to himself, having the money would do him much better since he has had his fill of everything that he could get his hands on. Selling them to Nick was the wisest decision he could make with all the money that Nick was offering. But, Bucky was not going to make it easy.

There’s something about having one of the most dangerous people to ever walk this world in front of Bucky, throwing his deals and notching up all the money that he could offer for what Bucky had, that made the deal much more enjoyable and Bucky was not anywhere near of having his fill of his new source of entertainment.

Nick was not the kind of trophy Bucky could collect in just one go, it took him months collecting his prize, piece by piece, with every infuriating comment and taunt testing Nick’s patience.

Every clench of his jaw in annoyance, every flare of his nostrils in anger, at the sheer cockiness and arrogance that Bucky effortlessly displayed, was just another piece of him now owned by Bucky. Another piece nearer to completely owning him and having the place meant just for him occupied. A fancy reminder that Bucky Barnes could achieve the highest satisfaction even if he didn’t have to do anything other than smirk and let his mouth run.

Nick knew exactly the kind of person Bucky was, even though he was completely oblivious that he was making his way to the top of Bucky’s shelf with every negotiation made for the deal. He just needed the drugs in his hold, a kick to the top for his power to reach a new high, and he knew once he had that power he always desired of having, Nick could have Bucky’s smug face at gunpoint.

All Nick had to do was get through with the deal and get away with the possessions and it would all be his. But, Nick wasn’t the only one who would be getting his big win, not when he himself was gonna be another trophy for Bucky and not a day would go by where Bucky won’t flaunt his new possession.

The money that Bucky was to get from the business has never been the payment he aimed for. Nick himself was a payment that was to sit right next to Bucky’s other, and forever shiny, trophy.

You.

His pretty little manager.

The only trophy that was never covered in dust, always shining and brand new for Bucky, standing out amongst all the dull and rusty trophies that didn't excite him anymore.

From the moment he had set his eyes on you, you were already his whether you liked it or not, but even if you were given a choice there was no way you would want things differently. Not when you were Bucky’s favorite possession.

He knew with every passing moment that you were already his, with all the clearly displayed signs that you showed whenever you were around him. The way you couldn’t stop staring at his fingers as they twirled the drumsticks in his hand, knowing how good they would feel grasping your hair as he fucked you from behind. The way you couldn’t seem to get enough of seeing his sweat-soaked self go feral as he indulges himself in the music with every sound that came from his drums. The very sight of him, his presence itself, was intoxicating, tricking your body into needing more and more of anything that he could do.

Nothing about your not so subtle attraction to him, that he found oh-so amusing when you tried to hide it, moved him to a state of permanent smugness. If anything it only compounded the smugness further into. He was used to the attention, but with you it was different. He noticed everything about you, just as you noticed everything about him; you weren’t the only one caught in a trance of attraction, he was as well. For the first time, Bucky got a taste of the way people seemed to be blind to everything other than what the lust flowing in their veins made them see, and he never stopped after that.

Everyone wanted a taste of the pretty manager, but you were all for Bucky to devour, especially after the concerts, when his buzzing body needed a release and it always ended up with him giving you a night that was sure not to be forgotten for a moment.

Tonight was one of those nights when his band had finished up a huge concert that was sure to kick up their fame and he was going to show you the best time the moment you got to the hotel, which would be in a few minutes, where he was waiting for you.

Sitting in the sleek car, windows rolled up, blocking all the sounds as you were being driven to the hotel where Bucky was staying, all you were consumed by was the last slam of the drumsticks on the drums and an adrenaline-filled growl from Bucky that made its way through the chaos of the stadium as the band ended their final song. Bucky’s eyes didn’t once move away from you, pinning you where you were standing the whole time, until the last second of the concert, as the crowd kept chanting feral praises and emitting sounds of appreciation.

He just looked right at you with a sly smirk, the same smirk of smugness mingled with mischief he always had, and your heart accelerated more in anticipation of the meaning behind the trace of mischief.

The chaos and wild movements had blurred, the sounds distant while Bucky’s eyes burned into yours and he licked a stripe up his drumstick, the same one covered in your cum after when he had fucked you with it backstage. The throbbing between your legs became stronger than the booming voices and shouts, the ache for him unbearable, making you clench your thighs so hard and the victorious smirk on his face making you want to look away but you couldn’t, didn’t, want to.

It was so lewd, the way he licked the drumstick all the way up, all while looking at you as if to remind you of the earth-shattering orgasm you’d had, that still had your thighs sticky and your panties wet and sticking to your pussy.

By the look on Bucky’s face, you knew that he was well aware of your state and he relished the effect he had on you. It pleased him more than the effect he had on anyone else.

Huffing out in impatience, you bite your lip and rub your thighs together, trying to dull the ache just for a little while until you reach the hotel. As you close your eyes, flashes of the concert appear almost immediately. There was no way to get Bucky out of your mind.

The lights had dimmed, slowly fading into darkness, along with the fall of the voiced chaos. The shuffling of feet, indicating everyone’s leaving, took its place, whilst the band walked down the stage, the reporters and interviewers were already crowding them, and you rushed towards them. Even among the chaos Bucky’s presence dominated everyone else’s and ignoring every question thrown at him and the flashes of the cameras, his eyes found you immediately, the permanent smirk on his face shifting into the look of a hunter who had spotted his prey and knew you wouldn’t run away.

You were already pushing through the crowd towards him, each movement of your legs causing the persisting ache and the after-shocks of your earlier orgasm sending sparks of dull pleasure, enough to keep you still needy.

As soon as you were within his reach, Bucky pulled you against his sweat-soaked body in a filthy kiss, catching you off-guard and as the clicking of cameras went wild, his tongue devoured you as if the two of you were the only people around. When his lips were on yours and his tongue was in your mouth, there was no way you ever wanted it to stop.

“ How was the concert, baby?” Bucky had asked, pulling away and leaving you breathless, the throb between your thighs getting more persistent as you remembered the way his mouth had felt on you, while the lights from the streets poured onto your eyelids.

“ Yeah, yeah, it was amazing” you had breath out, mind still fuzzy from the kiss as you were led away from everyone, along with the band. Amidst all the work that had to be settled, Bucky had promised you a night that you were never going to forget, but no time spent with him could ever be forgotten.

Bucky had every intention of taking you apart, in every way possible, and spending the whole night awake and suffused in the pleasure that only he could give you was what he planned to do. All you had to do was get to the hotel. Get to Bucky.

The car comes to a slow halt, the anticipation blooming throughout your body along with the ache in your core. The driver informs you of your arrival at the hotel, making your eyes fly open and a deep breath involuntarily falls out of your mouth.

“ Thank you”, you tell him, before stepping out of the car as you chew on your lips in excitement, your body possessed with the excitement carrying you forward into the hotel.

Even though his room was on the first floor, no journey had seemed the longest than that from the lobby to his room but remembering the lace piece you had underneath your short, flowy dress and the impact it would have on Bucky was enough to have you rushing upstairs.

Throwing smiles at everyone who passed by you, trying to act as if you were just another visitor at the hotel, you finally made your way to the first floor, your feet increasing in speed as Bucky’s room appears nearer and nearer as you smooth your skirt and pull the neckline further down to show off your accentuated cleavage that would undoubtedly catch his attention.

Bouncing on your feet in elation as you stand in front of Bucky’s room, you pull out the card key, fiddling with it as you open the door. You couldn’t wait to have your insides ruined by Bucky just like he always does after every show, using all the energy and excitement rushing through his body to make you forget everything except for his touch on your skin and his name on your tongue.

The click of the door lock reaches your ear, indicating that the door was now open for you to open, and with the twist of the knob, you’re walking in only to be frozen in a spot when two pairs of icy azure eyes stare back at you.

One filled with lust that finally showed upon your arrival and the other surged with awe at your presence, mingling with a kind of desire that Bucky would always show for you.

The man, sitting across Bucky, caught all your attention and curiosity and from a distant memory, you knew who he was.

Nick Fowler.

For the past few months, you had always seen him around Bucky in one way or another, always waiting for him outside studios, his name always flashing across Bucky’s phone, and to you, he just seemed like another business trying to set up a deal with Bucky. For the most part, you were right, but you didn’t know what exactly the dealings were about after all the effort Bucky put in to keep your curious eyes out of it.

You might have been out of everything that had to do with the deal but that didn't fend off Nick seeing you every time he came to talk with Bucky. He saw you, every inch of you, a tug of envy always pulling him towards you every time you were in his sight with marks on your skin and glances from Bucky clearly displaying how you were his.

Your presence bewitched Nick in a way nothing was able to avert his attention from the goal he had in his mind and even though he didn’t want to admit it, Nick secretly looked forward to getting a glimpse of you every time and every time he did, a pit of never-ending thoughts about you awaited him.

What would it feel like to have a taste of your sweet lips?

How would his marks on you look instead of Bucky’s?

How would it feel to have a sweet thing like you to call him?

All these thoughts drove him wild but being a man of calm and silence, the loudness of Nick’s thoughts never reached you. But with you in the same room as him, right now, had his thoughts wanting to be let out free as actions, especially when you’re adorned with that pretty tiny dress and your widened eyes looking at him. For a second, all Nick wanted to do was shoot up from his seat and get his hands to worship every inch of you when Bucky’s voice interrupts Nick’s spiral of thoughts and your realization that the night was not to be spent with Bucky alone.

“ Come here, baby, wan’ you to meet someone.” Your eyes snap to Bucky’s mischief-ridden ones while he crooks two fingers, motioning you to come to him which you do feeling as if you were on fire from Nick and Bucky’s unwavering, heated gazes with every step you take towards Bucky.

“ Come ‘ere.” Bucky says softly, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you onto his lap in a swift motion and his lips go straight to your neck, making you bite back a moan when you feel him tasting your skin as Nick shamelessly watches the heated exchange from across the two of you, his mind running wild like the blood flowing straight to his cock.

“ Bucky..” You whimper, grabbing onto his hair as you feel him smirk against your skin when you squirm on his lap at the attention the two men were giving you. The attention had your body flaming, the pure desire radiating off them giving you a rush of thrill.

Moving his gaze to where Nick sat, watching you intently with his lips pulled between his teeth, Bucky looks back at you to say, “ This Nick Fowler, he’s here to do some business.”

Trying not to sound affected by Bucky’s hands traveling up the skirt of your dress, massaging your thighs on its way, you turn towards Nick, trying not to melt under his gaze.

“ H-hi, I’m (Y/N).” You breathe out, managing to pull a smile while you stop yourself from rubbing yourself on Bucky’s thigh. The throb was painful and what made it even worse was Bucky’s hands teasing you by wandering all over under your skirt but never where you were dripping for him, which is exactly what Bucky wanted. He wants you to be desperate and dripping before he finally treats you good.

Nick’s lips pulled up in a devilishly beautiful smile as your words sank in. “ That’s a gorgeous name.” He says, letting his fall down to where Bucky’s hand was teasing you under your skirt, groaning at the sight. Seeing you trying to hold yourself together just with some teasing touches from Bucky, and how your pupils were blown out in a way that showed him that you were enjoying this, was enough to have Nick clutch his armrest to stop himself from having your body under his.

He was right. You loved the attention and envy swimming in Nick’s eyes as your mind wandered to how his hands would feel on you along with Bucky’s.

Nick was pretty sure that the dealing could happen later, right now you were right in front of him to drink in and Bucky was right there to show him just how good you can be.

“ She is gorgeous,” Bucky whispers right next to your ear as the two men relish the way you bask in the compliment.

Never taking his hands off you, Bucky says, “ Let’s get this thing done, Fowler. I need time with my girl,” as he traces his finger over your mound, groaning when he feels the lace of your lingerie making you clamp your legs together at the sound but Bucky was not allowing it and Nick had to force himself from taking his eyes off you.

“ Fine, let's get it done, then. I’m willing to fix on the amount we discussed last time.” Nick speaks up, trying not to let how much you have affected his show in his voice. But, nothing goes unnoticed by Bucky and this was just another chance for him to walk over his patience.

Rasping a “ Be good f’me, baby,” and a wink at you that has you holding your breath, Bucky rubs two fingers on the wet patch on your panties, humming in delight at the wetness and the throb of your clit under his fingertips as you you gasp and let out a whine from his touch.

The sound itself was enough to have Bucky and Nick hard and throbbing in their boxers while you moaned and whined from Bucky rubbing your clit over your panties, knowing very well the effect you had on them when you felt Bucky’s hardness pressing into you and how Nick was shifting in his seat, not even bothering to hide his cock straining against his pants.

“ I don’t know, Fowler. I need some time to think about it.” Bucky cocks his head as he finally gives in to your soft whines and gasps, desperate for him to stop teasing both you and Nick, and moves your drenched panties to the side before pushing two fingers deep inside you while his thumb circled your swollen and throbbing clit.

Your loud moan fills the room as you throw your head back from the fullness of Bucky’s fingers and the shocks of pleasure as his fingers rubbed against your walls along with his rings and the rough pad of his thumb never stopping the movements on your clit, rush through every fiber of your body making Nick’s cock jump in his boxers while he lets out a low groan and Bucky mutters a, “ so fucking tight” as your walls wrap around his fingers.

The wet sounds are enough to have both Nick and Bucky to drop wherever they were there for but not enough to keep Bucky distracted from how much he wanted to rile Nick up before giving him a taste of you, knowing very well that you wanted to be used by both the men from how you shamelessly put on a show for both of them.

“ What more do you wanna think about, Barnes?” Nick said in an impatient growl, both at Bucky’s attitude and you being a tease and putting on a show for him. Bucky’s fingers never stopped thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace, hitting your sweet spot while your clit was profusely being rubbed and all you were blinded by was the pleasure and the attention from the two men.

Bucky only replied by keeping his eyes on Nick as he licked and sucked at your neck, adding more pleasure to the buzz running through you by his fingers ruining your pussy.

“ Hmmm..” Bucky hums into your neck, making you moan and at this point, you were proudly putting on a show for the two, not even trying to hide “ I just got over with a show, you know? I don’t think this is the best time for me to make a decision.”

Bucky’s fingers press upwards against your soft spot inside you making you let out a loud whine which is cut short immediately by Bucky shoving his fingers inside your mouth, gagging you with them.

“ I know it feels good, baby. But I’m talking to Mr. Fowler here, so keep it down, I know you love being a slut in front of everyone, daddy knows.” Bucky’s words only spurred you further, eyes rolling back and your body grinding down on Bucky’s hand as you sucked on his fingers, the sizzling hot pleasure never stopping throughout your body making the coil tighten with every second.

Nick didn't know what made his cock jump in his pants, whether it was the filthy words dripping from Bucky’s lips or your moans and squeals from Bucky’s fingers dragging along your walls in deep thrusts while your clit was being played with. His cock strained and throbbed yet again in his pants and he knows that in just a few minutes, he will be cumming in his pants by just watching you get ruined on Bucky’s fingers.

Bucky could have been trying to distract Nick for all he cares, but with you finally, in front of him, there was no way Nick was about to complain. He was going to savor every last second of finally getting to see you the way he wanted, even though not the way Bucky was savoring his moments of having you against his body and having Nick right where he wanted him.

“ I’ll give you all the time you need, Barnes. As long as you give me something to keep me occupied in the meantime.” Nick says as his eyes drift all over your squirming body, stopping at your displayed pussy, dripping with need and his lips are pulled between his teeth in reaction.

The implication of Nick’s words has the tight coil inside you tightening further, getting you closer to your release as Bucky growls at Nick’s suggestion, making his fingers thrust in and out of faster and harder, loving the way you hold onto him from the overwhelming pleasure and how your sweet sounds muffled by Bucky’s fingers were filling the room.

You never realized how much you’ve wanted this, both the men until now when you know that you want them and they want you too, it was pretty clear by their blown-out eyes and their obvious hard-ons.

All because of you alone.

A power that only you possessed.

“ Happy to oblige, Fowler.” Bucky didn’t have to say twice before Nick was rising from his seat and walking towards you, his gaze pinning you down until he was standing right in front of you.

You were just on the edge of your release, a few more strokes of Bucky’s fingers along your walls and you know that you will be gushing all over his fingers in front of both of them.

Nick’s holds your chin in his hand, forcing you to look right at him as struggle against Bucky fucking you with his fingers and your release reaching its peak while you drool all over Bucky’s fingers, spit dribbling down his fingers and you stare up at Nick’s darkened eyes with lust swimming in them.

“ You gonna help me, princess?” He whispers, the husky tone making you whine and clench down on Bucky’s fingers as you feel your body buzz from the release that is to come soon.

“ She likes that. Clenched so fucking hard, baby. You wanna help, Mr. Fowler here? Yeah, baby? Wanna be our fucktoy and let us use you? You would love that, won’t you, my little slut?” Bucky whispers in your ears as presses his thumb hard on your clit, urging you to answer him and you nod, making muffled noises of agreement along with the squelching of your pussy.

“ You’re so sweet, princess. You’re gonna let me use you? Hmmm?” Bucky’s fingers slip from your mouth to allow you to answer Nick’s question as you nod in fervor, your mind, and body clouded by pleasure.

“ Yes, yes, sir, please ohmigodohmigod-” You gasp and moan as the coil in your tummy is on the verge of breaking, and the two men knowing that very well, smirks at each other, a silent conversation going on, “-daddy please, needa cum, please daddy.”

Just when you were about to cum, the intensity of your orgasm about to take over you, Bucky pulls his hand away from your dripping cunt, and all your whines and cries cut down by Nick catching your lips in an open-mouthed kiss as he tastes every inch of you.

“ No, no, please, daddy.” You mindlessly whine into Nick’s mouth as you grind down on Bucky, trying to catch the orgasm you lost.

“ Shh, baby, we know. We’ll give you what you want, baby.” Bucky reassures you.

“ We’ll treat you like the pretty slut you are, princess. Don’t worry that dumb head of yours.” Their words only make you clench around nothing before your hair is being grabbed from behind by Bucky.

“ Now spread yourself all pretty on the bed and we wanna see you touching yourself, yeah? Keep that pretty pussy ready for us.” Bucky ends his sentence with a slap on your pussy, making you yelp from the sensitivity before you’re pulled from Bucky’s lap into Nick’s arm as he throws you onto the bed.

“ Go on, princess, listen to your daddy and keep that slutty pussy ready for us.” Nick’s orders have you immediately spreading your legs from the sheer dominance dripping from every word, giving the men a clear view of your drenched lace panties as they stare greedily at you, while slowly stripping themselves.

Your hand slides down your body, removing the tiny dress you had on to reveal the lingerie beneath, as you lay there like the perfectly erotic picture for the men lustfully staring down at you to adore in desire while they start taking off their clothes much more rapidly than before and your fingers move your panties to the side, collecting the wetness gathered before pushing in two fingers in a loud squelch making the two men groan deeply.

Your head turns to the side to see the image of yourself in the full-sized mirror, a rush of confidence flowing through you at the pleasing image of yourself and you couldn't wait to watch yourself get destroyed by the two men.

“ My little slut’s always ready for daddy, putting on the sluttiest things for me to tear off your body. Look so pretty, baby. My pretty whore.” Bucky huffs out as he gets rid of his leather shorts, his eyes never leaving the way your fingers are moving in and out of your drooling hole, your moans along with the wet sounds from your pussy echoing through the room as you keep your eyes on them.

Panting from his arousal, Nick breathes out, “ You got yourself a good one, Barnes. Fuck, you’re dripping everywhere, princess. Such a messy slut.”

You moan loudly at the words thrown at you by them, spurring the movements of your fingers as you gasp and moan at the feeling of your fingers thrusting in and out of you, alternating between your thumb and your palm to rub your clit as you watch Nick and Bucky stalk towards you, their chests heaving with impatience to get their hands on your body.

Climbing onto the bed as his eyes rake all over you Nick growls, “ Gonna fuck that mouth and treat you good, princess. Sticking your tongue out already? Filthy whore always ready to be used like you were made for that. Gonna ruin you, princess.” As Nick kneels above your head, his leaking cock gripped in his hand as a few beads of pre-cum drips onto your face, making you moan while he watches the already fucked out look on your face with a smirk and you continue to relentlessly fuck yourself with your fingers, Bucky lifts your legs before spreading them wide open to watch your arousal drip onto the sheets and how you’re pathetically fucking yourself with your fingers.

All of your eyes are set on the filthy image in the mirror, especially where your fingers were moving inside you, fucking your dripping hole.

Keeping all your eyes on the mirror, just as Nick taps the head of his dripping cock on your tongue and you eagerly suck on the tip, savoring his taste, you watch as Bucky slides a finger along with your own two fingers already inside your pussy, so that he fucks your pussy with his finger and yours too.

You moan and gasp at the stretch of Bucky’s finger fucking your pussy along with your two fingers and when you try to remove your fingers, Bucky only chuckles darkly before grasping your hand in his and guiding your fingers in and out of you along with his.

“ No, baby, you're gonna fuck yourself along with me. You’re gonna cum all over both of our hands like a good cumslut and let daddy suck your fingers clean.” Bucky’s words have you moaning and increasing the pace of your tongue swirling and lapping at the head of Nick’s cock as his grunts and pants mix with your moans and whines and Bucky’s groans while he fucks you with both your fingers.

Nick uses the chance to push into your mouth, stuffing your mouth full with a grunt as the warmth and wetness of your mouth envelops his cock.

Your moans vibrate along with Nick’s cock as Bucky continues to toy with your clit with his thumb while adding another finger of his into your needy hole, stretching you out on two of his and two of your fingers and the speed of his thrusts becomes ruthless, bruising and hitting that sweet spot inside of you roughly while circling your clit hard and fast making the coil in your belly tighten.

“ Fuck, fuck, keep doing that, shit, her mouth feels fucking perfect. You’re made to be a cockslut, princess. Made to be used and ruined like the filthy fucktoy you are.” Nick groans from above you and what he said only adds to the pleasure running through you and you clench hard.

That makes Bucky gasp and growl, “ Oh she loves that. Clenched so fucking hard, god. You love being our fucktoy, huh? Love it when I let someone else use that slutty mouth like you’re nothing but a common whore, don’t you, baby? Of course, you do.”

Bucky continues his actions while laying down on his stomach before moving your hand slightly to the side so that he can wrap his lips around your swollen and pulsing clit while you gag on Nick’s cock as he uses you like you’re just a wet hole for him to get off in, fucking your mouth harshly, your tongue swirling and licking every inch of his cock, as his hooded eyes are focused on Bucky in the mirror, sucking and playing with your clit with his tongue and the way both of your fingers disappear into your hole rapidly.

All your moans and whines are muffled from Nick harshly fucking your mouth so that all you can do is writhe and jerk your body from the two men using you, alternating between watching yourself getting ruined in the mirror and keeping your eyes on the real men and so does Bucky and Nick.

Not being able to resist anymore, keeping a steady pace of his hips, Nicky leans forward to rip your bra into two from the center, and without wasting a second, he grabs your tits and roughly massages them, the friction on your pebbled nipples sending shocks of pleasure along with the ones from Bucky sucking and rubbing your clit with his tongue while he continues to finger you.

“ She feels good, Fowler? Got me a slutty whore ready to spread her legs for anyone.”

“ Fuck-” Nick feels himself getting closer and closer with every thrust and the moans around his cock “-you’re one lucky bastard, Barnes. Fuck, ya girl’s mouth is fucking heaven and she’s being such a nice whore and letting me have her any way I want.”

The way the two of them talk about you as if you’re not present in the room makes the coil even tighter and you're seconds away from having a huge orgasm.

So is Nick, as he feels his thighs shake and his stomach tightens making his thrusts even more rapid and feral and he squeezes and rubs your tits, occasionally pinching your nipples that has your body jerking up but with his free hand, Bucky holds you down continuing to bring you to your orgasm with his tongue and his fingers along with yours.

“ You close, baby? Can feel you getting close, you’re shaking, baby. You gonna make a huge mess for me to clean, baby?”

You try to reply to Bucky but the only sounds that come from your mouth are the gagging and choking sounds around Nicks's cock fucking your mouth.

Bucky chuckles seeing you try before his gaze lands on Nick and he sucks harshly on your clit making you squeal around Nick’s cock, making his growl between his pants.

“ You gonna cum, too? Already, pretty boy?” Bucky snickers against your pussy as you chase your orgasm by rapidly fingering yourself along with Bucky.

“ Shut the fuck up, Barnes,” Nick growls, focusing on making himself cum, trying his best not to show how Bucky’s taunting sent a thrill of pleasure through him.

Your toes curl and your body stutters as your orgasm reaches you.

“ Cum for me, baby. Make a mess for daddy, that’s it, baby. There ya go, such a good slut. There she is.” Bucky coos as your orgasm take over you and you cum hard and fast all over yours and Bucky’s hands with a scream muffled by Nick’s cock as you watch them guide you through your orgasm in the mirror.

Soon after your orgasm, Nick’s hips stutter violently as he pulls out of your mouth to jerk himself off and spurts ropes of hot cum all over your chest.

“ Oh, God, fuck yes, s’good s’good.” He groans through his orgasm, finishing all over your tits while your body shakes from your own orgasm as Bucky watches the two of you with hooded eyes, his hips slowly grinding into the mattress for some relief.

“ You did good, baby. Made such a pretty mess for daddy.” Bucky moans as he sucks on your cum covered fingers making you whine, “ Thank you, daddy”, as Nick, while panting, uses his fingers to take some of his cum painting your tits before bringing them to your lips, pushing past them as you look up at him with wide teary eyes, sucking on his fingers.

“That’s a good, princess. You love being used like this? Love getting your holes fucked and ruined?” Nick rasps.

“ Yes, sir.” You whisper back, licking his fingers clean, moaning at the taste of him on your tongue as he leans down to devour you in a filthy kiss, tasting himself on you.

Seeing the sight in front of him and the way your chest is glistening from Nick’s cum, has Bucky needing some release else he knows that he’ll end up cumming in his pants.

“ Let daddy fuck those tits now, baby. Know you love to be covered in cum and make yourself even filthier, Just lemme use those tits, baby.”

“ Please, daddy. Need you.”

“ You let your daddy fuck those gorgeous tits and lemme ruin that pussy. You want that, princess?”

“ Yes, sir. Wanna make a mess all over your cock.” You whimper as your words go straight to his dick, making him hard again.

Bucky pumps his cock as he licks his lips and moves towards you while Nick hurries to bury himself between your legs before, with a smirk, he places a hand on Bucky’s chest.

“ You not gonna let me taste your girl before I fuck her little puss?” Nick asks, smirking, making Bucky lick his lips before he crashes his lips on Nick’s in an open-mouthed kiss as Nick licks every inch of Bucky, moaning when your taste floods his mouth from Bucky’s tongue. The sight has your pussy gushing and clenching again as your finger circles your clit lazily, making you gasp and moan while you watch them.

“ S’fucking sweet.” Nick breathes out before pulling Bucky into a filthy kiss again as Bucky’s hand finds Nick’s cock after which he lazily jerks him off and Nick takes Bucky’s cock in his fist just as fast.

As they lazily jerk each other off while you rub yourself watching them, Bucky’s free hand finds your nipples. He absentmindedly flicks and rubs your nipples covered in Nick’s cum making pleasure shoot through you again.

“ Gotta fuck your girl’s pussy.” Nick pulls back, panting.

Bucky grabs his free hand that’s not rubbing and pinching your nipples, to grab Nick’s face before he whispers, “ And I’m gonna fuck you later.”

“ We’ll see about that later, Barnes.”

Bucky settles on top of you with either of his knees on your sides as he covers himself in Nick’s cum decorating your chest. He squeezes your tits together tightly, his thumbs working on your nipples rapidly before he pushes between your tits groaning at the tightness.

At the same time, you feel the head of Nick’s cock running through your folds, circling your clit for a bit before he pushes into you completely in a harsh thrust, hitting the sweet spot inside you in one go making you scream out and arch your back as Bucky thrusts between your tits, lubed up by Nick’s cum.

“ God, baby, your tits feel so good, so soft for daddy. Fuck you gonna make me cum so fucking hard, baby. These pretty tits were made to be used by daddy.” Bucky babbles away too lost in the pleasure as his hips snap-in swift thrusts.

“ This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. So fucking wet, princess. I can hear how fucking wet this slutty hole is. Getting used like a fucktoy has you so wet. Princess? Such a mindless whore.” Nick grunts as he indulges in the tightness and warmth of your pussy.

Your moans and whines from Nick constantly and rapidly hit your sensitive sweet spot and press down on your clit with his fingers while Bucky’s thumbs play with your sensitive nipples while Nick’s grunts and growls of filthy praise along with Bucky’s moans and choked filthy words weave together with the wet sounds resonating through the room.

Bucky watches in the mirror as Nick destroys your pussy, going feral from how tight and wet you are and how your eyes were rolled back, the pleasure being too much before he catches Nick’s eyes in the mirror.

Nick watches Bucky fuck your tits wildly and the image itself adds to his own pleasure.

“ Sir, please, too much. ‘M too sensitive-” You cry out as Nick fucks you with no mercy, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, as Bucky’s fingers increase its pace on your nipples as much as his thrusts do “-daddy, daddy, feels too good, ‘m sensitive, daddy.” You helplessly cry out, not being able to take all of the white-hot pleasure running through you all at once.

“ ‘s fine, baby, you can take it”

“ Yes, you can, princess. That’s what good sluts do and you’re our best slut.”

You whine in response to them. Your body shakes as Bucky fucks your tits, playing with your nipples and Nick swiftly slams in and out of your swollen pussy, his fingers working on your clit, keeping the pleasure running.

Once again you feel your orgasm approaching you fast. The tightness makes an appearance in your belly as you feel their touches on your body.

Nick chased his orgasm, fucking you stupid with grunts and groans of your name and so does Bucky, who had your tits wrapped around him as he fucked them as if there was no tomorrow while you mindlessly and helplessly moaned and whined with every thrust, every touch of Nick’s fingers on your clit and every touch of Bucky’s fingers on your nipples.

“ Gonna cum again, princess. Gonna fill this pussy up, get you full and stuffed with my cum.” Nick chokes out before moaning as he throws his head back,

“ Need you, sir. Please, fill me up. Oh fuck, please.” You moan out in response.

Your wish was his command and he fastened his pace, fucking into you harshly making your body jerk up with every thrust as Bucky keeps fucking your tits before he feels his own orgasm nearing.

“ Gonna paint you with my cum this time, baby. Get you all covered and pretty, paint you like the filthy cumslut you are. Fuck, gonna cum so hard because of your baby.”

“ ‘m gonna cum ‘m gonna cum, daddy. Sir, faster, please, oh fuck, ‘m gonna make a mess, oh fuck, I-” Your cries get stuck in your throat as your second orgasm has your body shaking and convulsing as you clench and gush all over Nick’s cock.

The way you trap Nick’s cock in your wetness sends him over the edge and his hot thick cum floods your pussy, leaking from the sides as he fills you with a guttural and animalistic growl as he fucks you through his own and your orgasms.

All you could do was mewl and moan at the sensitivity, your brain fuzzy from how good you were feeling as Bucky reaches his own orgasm.

His thrusts increase and he rubs your nipples faster as his hips stutter and with a growl of, “ Yes fuck yes, baby, cumming all over you. God, fuck, yes-”

Bucky’s cum spurts all over your chest, shooting up till your lower face, mixing along with Nick’s cum, as his groans and grunts match with Nick’s as their orgasms fade away.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, baby. Look at how pretty you are covered in our cum like a cheap slut.”

Your head snaps to the mirror and the three of you are caught in a trance by the filthy image. You couldn’t even recognize yourself with the ropes of white cum decorating your upper while Nick’s cock rested on your mound and Bucky's cock rested between your bruised tits as they stared at you still hungry for more while you were spread out for them to use.

“ Such a pretty slutty princess. Our pretty cumdump.” Nick growls as his eyes rake over the mirror holding the three of you in it.

“ Look at that pussy, so messy, princess. I need to clean up that mess.” Nick suggests as his eyes fix on Bucky’s in the mirror with a smirk.

You immediately babble, still caught up in the aftershocks of your two orgasms, “ No please, ‘m too sensitive, can’t cum, please no more.”

“ Listen to him, baby. Make daddy proud.” You could only helplessly nod because of course you wanted to make daddy proud.

“ And I did promise to fuck him real good.” You could hear the arousal dripping from every word Bucky spoke while Nick’s cock jerked at Bucky’s words.

Within a few seconds, you were manhandled by both Bucky and Nick so that now you sat on Nick’s face while you faced Bucky who positioned himself between Nick’s legs ready to show him how good he can fuck.

“ Sit on me, princess. Lemme lick this pretty pussy up.” You don't even get a chance to respond as Nick forces your hips down on his face, his tongues rubbing your clit immediately making you moan out from the oversensitivity.

Bucky leans forward to gather the cum running down your chest in his hands to lube his cock up even more and use some of it to prod at Nick’s puckered hole making him gasp and groan against your pussy, sending vibrations along with the pleasure buzzing through you.

“ Fuck, sir, please, too much.” You whine even though you grind your pussy all over Nick’s face as he licks every drop of your mixed cum from your pussy, and sucks and flicks his tongue on your clit making you cry and moan over him.

Staring at the mirror, Bucky slides two fingers into Nick’s ass and watches as his entire body jerks from the intrusion making you moan and cry out even more.

“ You look so pretty like this, Fowler.”

Nick only responds by growling into your pussy, making your oversensitive pussy quiver with each movement of his tongue as your tears roll down your face.

Bucky chuckles before prodding at Nick’s hole with his cock this time, slowly pushing in and stretching him open.

Your mouth hangs open at the sight of Bucky sliding into Nick, the filthiness adding more to your own pleasure as Nick eats you out with more rapidness as Bucky slides more of himself inside Nick’s tight hole.

“ Oh fucking hell.” Bucky shouts as he sheaths himself inside Nick, feeling on edge already as Nick moans and growls at the pleasure running through him when he feels Bucky’s cock nudge that spot inside him, making his mind go fuzzy.

Nick’s tongue works faster on your sore pussy while you watch Bucky pick up his pace and fuck Nick as hard as he can, each sound from Nick shooting blinding pleasure through you.

You can already feel yourself getting close both from Nick’s mouth and the sensitivity from the orgasms before as your belly tightens differently this time. More intense and more pleasurable while Nick writhes beneath you from Bucky fucking him and hitting that spot inside him so hard every time.

Bucky moans and grunts from how good Nick feels as he takes his cock in one hand jerking him off, Nick’s moan suddenly makes your body jerk but he pulls you back onto his face as Bucky leans forward to grab your face in his free hand, squishing your cheeks and Nick watches the two of you in the mirror, his orgasm approaching him faster this time.

“ Open your mouth, baby.” Bucky orders as his cock slams in and out of Nick at a steady and fast pace.

You do as he says, opening your mouth wide for Bucky only for him to spit harshly into your mouth making Nick moan both from what he’s watching in the mirror and the feeling of Bucky’s cock rutting into him and bringing him to his release.

“ Swallow.”

You swallow every drop before sticking your tongue out to show him, who smirks proudly at you and pulls your face into his in a filthy kiss.

The coil painfully tightens in your belly as Nick’s tongue laps at your pussy and Bucky devours your mouth while he fucks Nick faster and his fist moves faster over Nick’s cock as he chases his orgasm and Nick himself feels his orgasm reaching him as his abs clench painfully.

Everything was happening fast, your brain was too fuzzy from all the orgasms and finally, blinding almost painful pleasure took over you as you squirt all over Nick’s face, who doesn't stop his stop from lapping at every drop that you had to give and he himself, with groans and loud growls cums all over Bucky’s hand with his thighs shaking as he feels Bucky press inside him before flooding his hole with his cum and his loud growls fill the room along with the other sounds of pleasure.

Heavy panting fills the room as the three of you try to catch your breaths from all the orgasms as all of you rest your bodies on the bed tiredly.

A few beats of silence filled with a heavy panting pass as all of you lay tiredly on the mattress before Bucky’s voice breaks through.

“ Was that enough to fix the money I want?”

Nick only smirks as his eyes travel from your fucked out body to Bucky, “ I think I’ll need more convincing.”

A/n: Idek at this point. please do reblog and comment

tagging some angels:

@ambrosiase @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @commonintrest @broken-kitty1995 @destroyer-chris @sebstanseabass @sebsbrokentoe @bxucky @cwbucky @tumblin-theworldaway @multi-stann @strwbrrybucky @lfnr-blog-blog-blog @bonky-n-steeb @buckysswinter @kaitioo @chrisfucksblog @mobbucky @ashfaceiwa @moongoddessmox @marlboromatt @the-plum-soldier @summerofsnowflakes @aynanasstuff @chaashni @s-tarksintern @late-to-the-party-81 @nocturne-pisces @n00t-no0t @blanketbarnes @becca-e-barnes @samthemarvelfan @holylulusworld @jobean12-blog @world-of-aus @starbuckie @justreadingfics @fluffyprettykitty

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spiderwebbedhearts · 2 months ago

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OMGG THIS IS SOOO GOOD!! I'm soo curious about Steve's reaction tho 😳😳

recover

pornstar!ari levinson x pornstar!fem!reader

sequel to headline heartbreak (can be read as a standalone)

with the toxicity of your relationship ramping up and new ambitions coming forward for you, you start to think that maybe you could be happier. so when your favourite pornstar of all time offers you help, how can you say no? sweet smut. toxic relationships. 18+ 4.8k words.

When you had started filming with Steve, you would’ve never expected to garner the fanbase that you did, but every single video that the two of you posted, was bombarded with thousands of comments. Most of them were directed at you.

Steve enjoyed not being the one in the limelight for a while, he loved showing off his beautiful girlfriend and letting everyone know how in love the two of you were.

After the whole Peggy-Headline-Dating fiasco, Steve had stepped up and been the boyfriend you always dreamed of. And maybe it shouldn’t have taken you almost breaking up for him to realise what he was doing wrong, but the truth was, you had never been so happy.

But what if you could be happier?

You were currently rushing down the pavement towards the restaurant, Steve’s friends (all of them pornstars too, of course) had invited the two of you out to dinner to celebrate your first year on OnlyFans. But, you were running unfashionably late.

The heavy leather boots that you picked out prohibited you from running, so you settled for a fast and wobbly walk, stopping to pull your short black dress down at regular intervals. Being a dinner full of the most slutty individuals to ever be known, your close friend, Natasha, had told you to dress like a whore, which was easy- you had that down.

A figure-hugging dress that barely covered your modesty, your soft thighs wrapped in fishnet tights and you had also opted to forget your bra at home so your nipples were on full display- Steve would love that- and a thick fur coat thrown overtop.

Just as you rounded the corner, and your destination came into view, you tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and proceeded (in the most embarrassing way possible) to fall to your knees, the contents of your new shoulder bag spilling out in front of you.

“Oh, fuck.” You whispered to yourself, as you tried pushing yourself back onto your feet. Blood dripped down your shins from the cuts on your knees, and you whimpered when the pain overcame the shock of tripping over.

You bent down to pick up your bag and started collecting the rest of your stuff when you noticed that someone was helping you. Looking up, the last person you expected to see was him.

Ari Levinson. Your favourite pornstar of all time (not that you would ever tell Steve).

He stood at 6”6, with perfectly broad shoulders and well-built muscles. A masculine dusting of hair across his pecs and trailing down his stomach to something you had dreamed about more times than you could remember. The most perfect face you had ever had the pleasure of seeing- it was the beard that got you going.

Ari was a dream.

“Hey. It’s Y/n, right?” He asked as he handed you your things back, and all you could think was Fuck, he knows my name.

What you didn’t know is that Ari had been watching you for ages, when you came onto the scene, he had been immediately drawn to you- obviously preferring the sweet videos where you masturbated by yourself compared to the ones where Steve fucked the life out of you.

Ari watched all of them, he memorised everything about you and how you liked it. He hated the contrast between your time with Steve and the time you spent by yourself. He saw the tenderness in your eyes when you slowly fucked yourself for the camera and the absence of that when you were with your boyfriend.

Sometimes he fantasised about being the one to make love to you. Steve had no idea what a perfect angel he had.

He always thought that Steve was too rough with you, too demanding and harsh and now that he had met you in real life, and had gotten to see your eyes light up with excitement at the sight of him, he knew he was right. You deserved more than just fucking.

And he was correct, in some aspects. Although you loved the sex that you and Steve shared, sometimes you just wanted to be made love to. You wanted it soft and slow and sweet, and to not be filled with spankings and commands.

Trying to keep your cool, you stood up and placed your bag back over your shoulder, watching him as he slowly came towards you. “Yeah. You’re Ari. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, darling.” Darling, oh my fucking God. You knew you shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were but you just couldn’t help it. “You’re bleeding a little there.” He continued, pointing down to your busted knees.

“Oh yeah, I know. I’ll go inside and see if anyone has a bandaid. I’m guessing you’re coming in too?” You asked, heading towards the glass doors slowly and waiting for Ari to follow when he pointed behind him towards the parking lot.

Ari told you that he had a first-aid kit in his car, so to save you the embarrassment of having to walk inside and explain to another ten people that you fell over, Ari said he’d bandage you up himself.

He sat you sideways in the passenger seat, your legs dangling out of the side of the car as he went into the back to grab the kit. As he knelt in front of you, you shimmied your dress down, not wanting him to see anything that he didn’t need to.

Ari quickly got to work, first gently spraying your wounds with a saline solution he found. It made you wince and hold your eyes shut, the stinging felt like it was cutting deep into your bones. But Ari was nice about it, holding the backs of your knees tenderly as he wiped the blood away.

“You doing okay?” He asked, looking up at you as he put a large bandaid across each of your knees. He touched you so sweetly, you hadn’t felt anything like it in such a long time it was like a shock to your system.

Steve was very possessive nowadays, in and outside of the bedroom, making sure you knew that you belonged to him and showing everyone else the same truth. You loved the way he touched you, of course, but there was something about this that you adored.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You said, standing up and holding out your hand to help Ari off of the tarmac. He thanked you and slammed the car door shut, making sure that he locked it as you both started your short journey back to the restaurant.

“Did Steve invite you?” You asked. Although Steve had mentioned once about being a part of the same studio as Ari at one point or another, having met Ari now, you couldn’t imagine them being the best of friends. Steve was a different type of person from the man walking next to you right now.

“Oh, no. Bucky did. We were working together today and he just said I could come along if I wanted to. You don’t mind, right?” He worried that maybe he had overstepped a boundary by not asking you if he could come, it was your celebration after all.

You stopped walking, turning around to stand in front of him. “Are you kidding? Of course, I don’t mind. I’ve wanted to meet you forever. You're like… my favourite pornstar of all time, Ari. I’ve watched all your stuff at least twice. I mean… you’re just amazing.”

After your little speech, you noticed that maybe you’d gone a little overboard with the praise and the truths but Ari thrived off of it. If he wanted to be complimented by anyone, it would be you. His ego had just inflated to twice its size and you smiled as he nodded his head and stood a little taller.

“Really?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck and gearing himself up for what he was about to admit. “I’ve watched all of your stuff too.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock and you had to steady yourself, placing your hands on his (fucking huge) biceps. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am.” He laughed, subtly flexing the muscles you were hanging onto- he just wanted to impress you. “Do you wanna know which one is my favourite? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You squeezed his arms in excitement, “Okay. Tell me. You remember the title?”

“I can’t say that I do… but you were wearing the prettiest white lingerie, matching heels and umm…” He paused, not knowing if you were comfortable with the amount of detail he was about to go into. This was your first video that he watched, and since then he had been hooked.

“And you were on your knees, bending over for the camera with a… with a diamond plug in your um…”

“In my ass?” You giggled, loving the nervousness that was radiating off of the man that was towering over you. He was so cute and adorable and you just wanted to wrap your arms around him.

“Mhm, in there.” He laughed, deciding to throw caution to the wind and tell you something that he normally wouldn’t have the courage to say. “I remember watching it and thinking you were the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen.”

The smile plummeted from your face so fast it gave Ari whiplash. But it wasn’t for the reason that he thought it was, he hadn’t gone too far- you were pretty much on the verge of tears. Hearing that made your head spin, especially when having your body made public opens you up to a lot of hate, but Ari had just distinguished all of that hurt.

“Thank you, Ari.” You said, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing gently, “That means a lot.”

Just as Ari was about to wrap his around your shoulders, the door swung open and Steve came barreling out onto the street, “Baby! What are you doing out here?”

You could tell just by the voice that he was tipsy already. Untangling yourself from Ari and turning around to greet your boyfriend, you walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “Nothing, babe. I just met Ari.”

Steve’s hands immediately found your ass, giving both cheeks a tight squeeze as he tried to get a proper kiss from you. You gave in and placed a quick peck on his lips, pulling away after to turn back to Ari.

“You coming inside?” You asked, holding onto Steve’s hand with your own as he started pulling you through the doors. Ari nodded and followed you both to the table.

Bucky stood up, greeting Ari with a handshake and proceeding to introduce him to everyone else invited, most of whom Ari had met before due to work. He sat down in the last available seat, to the left of Bucky at the end of the table, and opposite you.

Ari was struggling with how to navigate this situation; on one hand, he wanted to talk to you all night and on the other, he didn’t want to make Steve angry. He could already see the annoyance in his eyes that was arrowing towards him. Steve didn’t like Ari at all.

As you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the table, enhancing your cleavage, Ari realised that this was going to be a very hard night for him indeed.

Steve was becoming visibly rattled by the conversation taking place in front of him, not because it was in any way, shape or form inappropriate, but because it was between you and Ari.

Ever since the headline, Steve had been twice as possessive over you, fearing that one day you might turn around and leave, deciding that maybe you deserved better. Right now, he felt like his worst fears were coming true.

Ari was currently talking to you about a book he read recently, and you embraced the conversation fully, agreeing with him and finding new topics for the two of you to chat about. You noticed over time that Steve got more handsy, first, it was the ass grabbing, then it was a hand on the thigh and now Steve had resorted to slipping his hand up higher between your legs.

“Steve, baby. Stop.” You laughed, smacking his hand away and resuming your talk with Ari, subtly peeking at the way his shirt stretched around his shoulders and enhanced his muscles. Snap out of it, your boyfriend is right next to you.

Said boyfriend wouldn’t stop trying to stake his claim on you, going as far as to try and leave a hickey on your neck. You laughed it off awkwardly, trying not to gather more attention at this end of the table. Steve was very drunk, talking very loudly and being very annoying.

“So…” Ari started, drawing your eyes away from Steve and the way he was guzzling down his vodka soda like it was water.

“Mhm?”

“I’ve seen some fan requests floating around that I think could be a good idea.” He finished, watching a sweet smile pop up on your face at the mention of fans. You loved to be loved and hearing about how other people were doing in their careers- gave you ideas and inspiration on how to put yourself out there more.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You asked, picking up your wine glass and taking a sip- Bucky had offered to take you and Steve home after dinner so you could drink until your heart’s content.

“Like a collab between me and you.”

“Really? People want that?” You laughed in disbelief, placing your glass down and holding your head up in your hands like the thought was too heavy for your brain. Fucky, I really wanna do that. “Really?”

“Mhm… I did a podcast a few days ago, we were talking about our favourite actors, and I said you… and some people in the comments like the idea of you and I doing something together.” He explained, but all your mind picked up on was ‘favourite actors’ and ‘you’.

“Me?” You echoed. Was this man trying to kill you? “You, Ari Levinson, said that I was one of your favourites?”

“No, sweetheart. I said you were my favourite.” He said, smiling and leaning toward you. “So, how do you feel about doing a scene together sometime?”

Just as you were about to say hell yes, another voice piped up. “Absolutely not.”

Steve chose that exact moment to turn his attention back to the conversation between you and Ari, for the past ten minutes he had been sitting back in his chair listening to Bucky ramble on and on about how many women he had been with this week.

“Excuse me?” You glanced at Steve, watching his eyes darken and tension seep into his shoulders- you’d never seen him look so intimidating. But when you turned back to Ari, he had such an unimpressed expression on his face that you had to stop yourself from laughing.

“I think that’s up to her to decide. Don’t you think, Rogers?” Ari said, picking up his whiskey on the rocks and leaning back in his seat, spreading his legs and drawing your eyes down unwillingly. Y/n, stop it.

“You’re not fucking my girlfriend, Levinson,” Steve said, grinding his teeth and slowly grabbing your throat in his hand, turning your head towards him and trying to get a kiss, trying to show his ownership over you.

Just before your lips met, you said, “I think it could be a good idea, Steve.”

He pretended that he didn’t hear you, biting your plump bottom lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth and kissing you. Ari took a long sip of his drink as he watched the encounter, wanting so badly to reach over the table and rip that bastard’s hands off of you.

You pulled away, putting some distance between you and your boyfriend, hoping that the look on your face would convey some of the desire you had for this. “Think about how good this could be for me, baby. My career.” You whispered to him, smiling and hoping to butter him up.

You watched Steve clench and unclench his jaw, waiting for a reply- you weren’t asking for permission, after watching him fuck pretty much anything with a pulse for a year of your relationship and saying it was work, you wanted to try it out too.

But you were right- this could be a breakthrough in your career, taking you higher than you ever thought you could be. Ari Levinson was the biggest name in porn at the moment, doing a scene with him would earn you the status you craved so much. And of course, a once-in-a-lifetime experience with the man of your dreams.

But you were, at your core, a loyal girlfriend and, unlike Steve, would do anything to make your other half feel comfortable. All the reassurance Steve needed, he would get.

“You know what, baby?” Steve asked, thinking it over in his head. He knew that causing a scene would only make you fed up, so instead, he opted for a different plan- pretending like he didn’t care at all. “Fuck whoever you want, it’s fine with me.”

Whilst Steve expected you to be shocked at his lack of bother and change your mind, you turned to face Ari, excitement lighting up your face…

“Does tomorrow work for you?”

Steve had walked out on you an hour before Ari was due to come over, slamming the door to your apartment shut after having some very interesting words to say about the situation that was about to take place.

You had never been so angry with Steve before: first of all, for going back on his word (you know, since he said he didn’t care), and second of all, for being a selfish hypocrite. You couldn’t remember how many nights you had sat at home on your own, whilst your boyfriend was out having sex with people to make a name for himself. Now that you wanted to do the same thing (granted it was also because it was Ari Levinson and you had dreamed of being with this man for years) he suddenly had a problem with it.

You were done with his toxic possessiveness. If he wanted to walk out on you because you had dreams that he didn’t agree with, after you had stood by him for his, then so be it.

Just as you were dusting a little highlighter across your cupid’s bow, the doorbell rang and your heart dropped into your stomach. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

You threw a sweater over your underwear, a cute little white set (reminiscent of the one Ari said he loved), as you made your way to the door, swinging it open to see him with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a happy smile on his face.

“Hey, darling.”

“Hi.” You said, stepping back to let him inside, not seeing the way his eyes lingered on your bare thighs. Ari thought he might fall to his knees right there and worship you, burying his face in between your legs and taking what he had always wanted to.

“I set up my tripod in the lounge…” You explained, waiting to see if he had a negative reaction to that and also trying to dispel a little bit of the nervous atmosphere that had overcome you both.

“That’s fine, honey. Wherever you’re comfortable.” He smiled at you again, following you from the entryway into the room where it would all happen. The couch was pressed up against the back wall, a pink wool throw laid over the cushions and a bare wall behind it.

Ari stared at the sofa for a second, looking around the room and seeing your fireplace opposite it, burning brightly and heating the cold November chill in the air. Placing his bag down by the door, he walked over and grabbed the blanket, laying it on top of the black fur rug in front of the fireplace.

He turned your tripod towards his new location, shortening it so it would capture more of the action when the two of you were on the floor. Setting his tripod up too, at a different angle, he saw you take a seat by the fire out of the corner of his eye, flattening out the wool and making sure it was perfect.

The nerves began to set in, you had never filmed anything with anyone other than Steve- what if this wasn’t what you imagined it would be?

Ari pressed play on the cameras and sat down with you.

“Did you already start filming?” You asked confused, crossing your legs and pulling the sleeves of your sweater down before crossing your arms. You felt really cold all of a sudden, maybe it was a side effect of the nerves, but as you looked at the man next to you, you slowly felt warmth blossoming in your tummy.

“Yeah…” He whispered, shuffling over to you so you were thigh-to-thigh, “Maybe you can tell me what you wanna do.”

“Hey, you’re in charge here. What did you have in mind?” You giggled, bumping shoulders with him.

“That’s not how it works with me, baby.” Ari said, slowly slipping out of his grey sweatpants and throwing them off-camera. “I have a feeling you don’t get asked what you like a lot, so you’re gonna tell me what you want me to do to you. Okay?”

You nodded. Ari had hit the nail on the head, there were never really any distinct conversations between you and Steve about what either of you liked. When you did have sex, you just… had sex and thought nothing of it. But now that the seed had been planted in your mind, you couldn’t help voicing your answers.

You brushed your hair behind your ears, and admitted, “Well maybe I don’t… I don’t get eaten out as much as I’d like to.”

You met Ari’s eyes and saw the look of disbelief in his irises- if he was your man, his face would be buried in that sweet pussy every day.

“And maybe it could be nice to go slow? If that’s okay with you…” You trailed off, fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your jumper.

“That’s more than okay with me, baby.” Ari leaned towards you, tenderly taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and touching your lips with his own, ever so gently.

You couldn’t help yourself from whimpering at the contact, never having felt something so soft in your life. Ari took his time exploring your mouth, making sure you were fully relaxed before he even thought about slipping his tongue inside. You returned the favour almost immediately, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and playing with his hair.

Ari eased you up onto your knees so you could fully face him, as he traced his hands up the outsides of your thighs, gripping the bottom of your sweater and pushing it up. He pulled away to see you, to see the body he had had fantasies about.

Ari loved everything about your body that you didn’t: whilst you hated your soft thighs and tummy, Ari thought they were the most perfect things in the world, he wanted to feel them wrapped around his waist and pressed against him as he moved inside of you.

“You put this on just for me, honey?” He asked as you straddled his parted thighs, nodding your head and bending to get another kiss from him. As you sat in his lap, he reached behind your back, undid the clip of your bra and slid the straps down your arms.

Ari couldn’t wait any longer to feel your skin on his- he pulled back, ripped his shirt off over his head and dragged you back so you were chest-to-chest. You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you, it drove you to wrap your arms tighter around his neck and his to tighten around your back.

You don’t know how long you sat there in his lap, feeling him and kissing him and enjoying him- all you knew was that at some point, without you realising, he had laid you down on the soft blanket and had begun kissing down your body.

“Lift up, baby… There you go.” He said, releasing your hips from the confinement of your underwear and dragging them down your legs. You were completely bare for Ari, and he had never seen such a gorgeous sight.

He needed to please you. So, as you hauled yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch what he was about to do, he parted your thighs and took your clit into his mouth, groaning at the sweet taste that exploded on his tongue.

“Oh my God, baby.” You moaned, your fingers digging into the plush material underneath you. Not being able to help it, you started grinding your hips against Ari’s face, loving the way his tongue would flatten against your pussy every once in a while and clean up all the juices that were leaking out of you.

You had never experienced such pleasure before, white burning heat building up in the pit of your stomach, begging to be released. “Please, baby.”

To tease you, Ari’s mouth left your slick and puffy folds to concentrate on your inner thighs, sucking hickeys onto them and nibbling the soft skin there.

“Not yet, darling.”

You were practically begging to cum, the word ‘please’ coming out of your mouth like a prayer and as soon as he put his mouth back on you, you almost lost it- but he pulled it away too quickly again.

“Ari, baby. Make me cum.” You whispered as he crawled back up to you, laying you down again so your back was flat against the floor.

“I will, honey. I promise.” He said quietly against your mouth, giving you one more kiss before sitting back and taking his boxers off. Your head fell back at the glorious sight, his thick cock stood proudly against his stomach, leaking yummy pre-cum.

He gently grabbed it by the base and spanked your sensitive clit with the tip before he slid it through your pussy, picking up all your wetness before positioning himself at your hole. You nodded at him with a blissful smile on your face, and as he pushed inside, you both let out moans so rapturous that you had to close your eyes to savour the feeling.

“Fuck, honey. You’re so tight.” Ari groaned, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head as he started to thrust into you.

“Oh my God, Ari.” Your thighs trapped his waist between them, hugging him lovingly as he brought you to the brink of orgasm again. “Can I cum? Please?” You begged, kissing him sweetly and arching your back.

You felt Ari smile against your lips, “Cum for me, honey.”

Ari stroked his hand up and down your back as you laid on top of him, 5 orgasms later and you were completely worn out, contemplating falling asleep right here.

“You okay, baby?” He asked as you lifted your head, smiling that adorable smile to let him know you were fine.

The two of you had been going at it for so long that both of the cameras had died, so now it was just the two of you in the aftermath of your love-making. And that’s really what it felt like. Ari had satisfied your every desire, and made you feel so beautiful and appreciated. You didn’t think that you were ready to let that go just yet.

It might have only been a day since the two of you met, but within that time you felt as though you had built such a strong connection with the man laying underneath you. And you realised that maybe he was the reason that your feelings for Steve had diminished to the point that you didn’t care if he didn’t come home- Ari had given you such an intense case of whiplash and you didn’t know if you would ever recover from it.

Or if you ever wanted to.

But what you did know is that you wanted to go for another round.

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spiderwebbedhearts · 3 months ago

Text

this series is so fantastic

Sweet Thrill Masterlist

mafia!Ari Levinson x female reader; mob boss Ari Levinson x female reader

summary: Many would consider your job as a dancer at Lloyd Hansen’s exclusive night club to be exciting or scary, but honestly you see it as predictable and stable. It’s mostly a routine. That’s until Ari Levinson enters the club. You draw his attention and he installs himself in your space, bringing fear and thrill along with him.

warnings: mostly consensual, but with a peppering of faint dub-con; soft dark Ari Levinson; possessive behavior; light pet play; fear kink; light Master/pet play; bdsm undertones; power imbalance; fingering; pet names; collaring; very very subtle degradation and humiliation (nothing hardcore)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

mafia!Ari’s preferences

his fave position

OVA

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spiderwebbedhearts · 3 months ago

Text

this is 🔥🔥🔥🔥

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — demon!bucky barnes × fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — your boyfriend bought the perfect house, he said. The house in question beeing a ruin. You hated it but loved him. However, finding an old book and a cocky demon was not what you expected. He proposes a deal, will you accept? What if you don't keep your end of the bargain?

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT, light degration and dumbification, oral (both f/m receiving), p in v without protection, reader has short sex with bf and then later with bucky, filthy sex, a little rough and dirty talk — I'm a little rusty so please don't hate it too much lol

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — do you remember me? I sure hope so! I'm not saying I'm back, but I'm slowly coming back...for how long? idk. Anyway, I adore demon!bucky, and I love beetlejuice, so I kinda mixed it up. Please don't forget to give feedback!! Yeah also this has 7.8k words.

With a sigh you heaved a box out of the car, not believing you actually trusted your boyfriend when he said, he found the ‘perfect house’. Aside from the fact that he made questionable choices in the past, you should have checked it beforehand.

Now here you were, in front of a ruin almost and nothing about this house made you feel at ease. It looked like it would fall into itself at any moment, shabby windows and a broken roof.

Shaking your head, you walked inside with a spark of hope that inside looked better than outside. Spoiler, it did not.

“How could he buy something like this?” you whispered to yourself while putting the box down. He probably bought because it was cheap, and it was cheap because no one wanted it…wonder why?

Furthermore, there were two of you and this house was big enough for a family of four with a dog. Meaning it was too big and hadn’t even talked about children – not that you were ready anyway.

You decided to walk up the stairs, look a bit around as a sign of good will. Maybe it looked better in the higher parts.

Everything looked as if it would collapse every second, the wood crunching beneath your feet. The awful smell of moulding floor and plaster falling off the walls, made you roll your eyes. How could anyone want to live here?

At last, you found the stairs leading up to the attic, perhaps anything, really anything interesting was up there. You tried opening the door, but it seemed locked, again you forced your whole body against it and with a cracking sound it opened. You tried opening the door, but it seemed locked, again you forced your whole body against it and with a cracking sound it opened.

You stepped inside, looking around you saw furniture and a long table covered with white sheets. Curiosity got the best of you, taking the edges of the sheet and ripping it off.

Beneath it was a model of this town, the town you were in right now. It made you wonder how old this house was – or wait no, it was decades old, you didn’t need to wonder.

“Awesome, good job Andy,” you muttered to yourself as you let yourself fall onto a covered armchair. Your eyes wandered around the room, fixing on a box filled with paper. Pulling it closer, you lifted it on your lap.

Whoever lived here before forgot it apparently, inside were just pictures, some letters, and a book. “God, how old is this thing?” you asked yourself looking at the book.

It was covered in dust, wiping it away you noticed a different kind of writing, it almost seemed like runes. It probably was not the right decision to open the book, but there was nothing more interesting in this house.

To your surprise, inside the book were letters you could actually ready, and you could pinpoint what Kind of language it was; Latin.

“Could not have become any weirder, found a real gem there Andy,” you muttered to yourself. No wonder the house was this cheap, crazy people lived here. “Honestly, as if they called upon some demons every Sunday, and probably truly believed some creature with four legs and horns would appear.” Shaking your head, you stood up and threw the book aside.

“Now you wounded me honey,” a voice behind you said, and it did not belong to Andy. With a scream you jumped up, turning around to face a man...,“Who are you?” you stuttered, not believing this was really happening.

He was tall, had broad shoulders, his brown hair was long but still a short, framing his face well. Then there were his dark eyes and his arrogant smirk...was he wearing a suit?

“Oh, do you not recognize me because I only have two legs and no horns?” he chuckled, taking a step closer to you. His whole being seemed dark, like only bad things followed him.

Something inside your brain snapped, as if it was overstimulated with the situation, “funny, this is so fucking funny, Andy!” you shouted through the attic. The man in front of you only chuckled, “listen I’m all for hearing a woman scream, but do you mind keeping it down?” His voice slightly hardening at the end.

You wanted to roll your eyes, now you we’re convinced he was a man – at least. “I’m leaving now, and once I’m gone you won’t exist anymore because you’re just part of my imagination,” you told him, hoping that you we’re right and you would wake up any minute.

He walked around you, coming to stand in front of the entrance. His frame almost as broad as the door, it made him even more intimidating. Face dark and calm, with no sign of humanity.

“You would like that would you not? But you can’t, can’t leave this house behind because of sweet Andy...,” he taunted you, and he was right, you couldn’t get out of this house...but you didn’t tell him that.

“Wondering how I know that? You should be a lot more careful with the books you’re Reading,” his grin spread across his face, taking a step closer to you.

“How bad do you want to leave this house?” he whispered, not stopping until he was right in front of you. His warm breath against your lips. You didn’t know what to say, if you should answer honestly...after all you we’re standing in the attic with a strange man.

“Fuck you,” was what you decided on and shoved him to the side. Bucky laughed, but as soon as he saw you glaring at him stopped although he couldn’t stop smirking, “we’ll see about that.” You ignored his words and opened the door to leave this bloody attic.

Downstairs you found Andy who looked like a little kid on Christmas morning, he loved this house and you. Most of all he loved the future you two would be able to start here.

It broke your heart, not knowing if you would ever love this house like he did, if you could see the future, he did…for now you shook that thought away, thinking you would just work through all the weird occurrences. Maybe you’re just catching a cold, and there is no man upstairs. – And you would definitely send Andy up there to check if he could see that man too.

“And what do you think?” he stood in front of you, a wide grin stretched across his lips, “I know we have a lot to do, but it’s ours,” he wrapped his arm around your waist. A lot might be an understatement, and where would all the money come from?

“Yeah…ours,” you muttered, looking into his bright eyes. “We can grow old hear together,” he added, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You tried your best to smile at him.

---

Two weeks went by, construction workers came in and out of the house, working on the roof and façade. Shortly after your conversation with Andy, you showed him the attic, the book and nothing happen. Nothing happened in the last two weeks, so it had to be imagination.

Right at this moment, you stood in the kitchen – well it wasn’t much of a kitchen yet. You were crouched on the floor, trying to get those tiles clean and see if anything was still usable of that wood.

You opened a cardboard door and were met with something big and hairy, you tilted your head to get a better look when it suddenly moved, looking straight at you.

A loud scream came from your mouth, making the animal start running out of the kitchen. You wanted to cry.

Andy quickly came into the kitchen, “sweetheart what happened?” coming to a stop next to you. “There was a rat, a fucking rat Andy. There are animals everywhere,” you complained.

“It’s not that bad, we’ll have them out in no time,” he promised you, just as a loud crash came from the roof. Just then a constructer came in, “sorry guys, but there is mold on your roof, think it might get a little more expensive.”

You looked at Andy, watching his reaction intensely but he didn’t seem fazed at all. “Seriously? This is money we don’t have, you’re a lawyer not a trust fund baby! This house is a ruin, everyday there is a new problem, how can you not care?”

Andys eyes widened in shock, he didn’t expect you to have such an outburst. But it was understandable, after all everything was a little stressing at the moment. Gently he touched your shoulder, a soft smile on his lips, “don’t worry sweetheart, we will find a solution, I already thought of this.”

Quickly you stood up, “you already thought there was fucking mold on that roof? Then why buy this house, why spend this much money?” he could not be serious, this money could be used for so much more.

“No, not really, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy, that’s why I put some extra money aside,” he told you, coming to stand up next to you. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm, like everything was alright.

“Just ask, leave this house behind, live a nice life,” a voice whispered into your hear, dark and rough. A faint wave of warm breath flowed around your ear, “what?” you asked out loud, this wasn’t real?

“What?” your boyfriend repeated, looking a little confused, taking a quick look around. “Did you say something?” you asked him, it had to be Andy talking.

“I have everything under control, don’t worry,” he caressed your cheek and kissed your lips, you didn’t immediately react. Andy tilted his head a little, searching for something in your eyes, “hey, anyone there?” he questioned.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here,” you lifted your head to meet his gaze, “just need a breather,” you said, trying your best to smile at him. The man next to you nodded, just wanting you to be happy, he didn’t see how unhappy you actually were, how close you were to breaking.

As soon as you stepped out of that house, it felt like a weight being lifted of your shoulders. How could Andy stay this positive? There were rats, racoons and mold inside, doors that broke with a light touch and it was probably haunted. There was nothing in this house that would lift your mood.

“Still don’t wanna make a deal?” the same voice as before said, you swiftly turned around, now face to face with a familiar man. Every word on the tip of your tongue was gone, you were speechless.

“Oh, come on…you really thought I wasn’t real?” he grinned, face so close his nose was almost touching yours. You took a step back, glaring at him and hoping he would vanish into fin air.

“Fine, you’re real. What do you want? My soul?” you asked, you’ve heard stories about demons before and all of them included people losing their souls. However, none of them had the demon persistently asking for a deal, almost as if he was desperate.

“Normally, yes. But you my darling are too pretty for that…I want you, just for one night,” he didn’t move closer to you, still it felt like something was pulling you in.

“You want to sleep with me?” you asked astounded, this sounded like some the beginning of a bad porn video. What could he possibly have of this? You would never cheat on Andy, but could that be all? “Yes, I do and trust me once you had a taste, you will never get enough,” he grinned, showing his perfect teeth with slight fangs.

“I would never do that to Andy, and you can’t force besides I can’t even trust you to that there is nothing else,” you stated, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Darling, it is not all and I can’t force you, goes against my rules…and the rules in general,” the demon revealed, slightly shrugging his shoulders as he began circling you. “You just said that’s all, you’re already lying!”

Your words caused him to chuckle, “no, I said I want to fuck you. For the deal to seal you have to say my name three times, three times in a row it must be spoken unbroken.” He held his chin eye, closely watching your every move.

You scoffed, this was fucking stupid. “Who are you Beetlejuice? I don’t know your name, want me to guess it?” you spat at him, why were you even talking to him still?

“Who do think inspired them to make that character?” he promptly asked, voice laced with smugness, “but no, you don’t need to guess, it’s written in the book, or I can tell you and once you know it, you can scream it.”

“This is stupid and let me guess when I say your name you will be free?” you shook your head, not believing yourself. Maybe the mold in the house caused you to be high?

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can do whatever I want. You will say my name and sign a contract, saying my name will make you mine,” he rolled his eyes, you were going to be a hard one, but he already enjoyed it. Yes, maybe the name thing was a little stupid, but it was too funny seeing people do it.

“Whatever, I won’t make a deal with you. I’m not a cheater and I lived through worse, I will survive this bloody house, I love Andy,” you snapped at him before stomping away, back towards the house.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night darlin’, the name is James, for future references!” the demon called after you, he wouldn’t pass on a chance to make you his and if he had to worsen the state of the house, then so be it. There was no chance he would let you go.

---

The following few weeks went by without any sight of the demon and thankfully no part of the house collapsing. Still to many animals lived there, and the roof wasn’t completely finished and the rooms needed renovations.

And today no good news awaited you, you were tired and just wanted to lay on the couch. But as you stepped through the apartment door there stood Andy with a frown, making your stomach churn.

“Sweetheart, the house is going to take a little longer than expected but our lease is ending…meaning we will have to move into-,” “we have to move into that fucking construction site, are you kidding me?” to Andy your outburst was unexpected.

“I know it’s unfortunate but remember it’s our new home,” he took your hands in his, eyes full of hope. Completely oblivious to the fact how much you hated the idea.

“No, no it is a ruin, nothing is going according to plan and everything is horrible, I will not move into that wreck. I gave you a chance, and everything is going wrong!” you scoffed at him, shaking your head before leaving right out of the door again. This could not be happening, you were holding it together, trying to stay on the right path – then it did.

You took a deep breath and headed towards the park near your apartment. In order to clear your mind, you sat down on a bench near a lake.

Suddenly you felt a dark presence next to you, already knowing who it was. “You’ve been absent the past few weeks, were you waiting for everything to go to shit?” you asked in exhaustion.

“No, that would be very mean,” James chuckled, letting his arm rest behind you on the bench, fingers dangerously close to your shoulder. You dared to take a look at him, it knocked almost your breath out of your chest.

There is sat, thighs wide apart in a black tailored suit with a matching tie. His long hair combed back, matching his beard perfectly – wait since when did he have a beard? And why did it look so devilishly handsome?

“Liar, you’re waiting for me to agree,” you sighed, not being able to keep your eyes of him. “You’re sitting here talking to me…I know you want to,” he moved closer to you, fingertips ghosting over your shoulder which made you shiver. You closed your eyes, reminding yourself that this was a bad idea.

“I said no, I’m not cheating on him,” you told him confidently, crossing your arms over your chest. The bad thing however was, that you couldn’t move into any direction, on one side was his warm, beautiful body and on the other his hand waiting for you to move. He was ready to draw you into his aura.

“But would it be really cheating? He doesn’t even know I exist, little Andy would forget about the house, you would get the best sex of your life and live happily in that cute apartment,” the demon shrugged, foot nudging yours and slightly moving your leg to the side.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to resist every fibre in your body that wanted to give into him. “Just say yes,” he whispered inching closer to your face, lips almost grazing yours.

His words caused an idea to pop into your head, maybe you could use that to your advantage…, “fine, let’s make a deal. You get me out of that freaky house and then we will…,” your voice becoming a whisper at the end, lips close to his ear.

A smirk stretched across his lips, finally he got what he wanted. His hand came up to cup your cheek, “then say my name, say it,” James whispered. “It’s humiliating,” you argued, whining a little to which he only kept smirking – his face had to stay frozen at some point.

“No, it’s funny and we have to practise, don’t we?” the demon tilted his head to the side, eyes roaming over your lips with a hint of hunger.

James had lived for centuries, no millennia and had at least millions of souls in his possession, yet he had never crossed path with someone as beautiful as you. Never did he have the intention on sleeping with them – okay, he did sleep with some of them, but after taking their soul.

You, however? All he wanted was one night, one night to show you everything he had to offer and convince you to never leave his side again.

“Fine, James…,” you started, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “…James,” you continued. Meanwhile the demons eyes glinted with pure excitement, “just one more time darlin’,” he whispered. “James,” you finished, making him laugh in a manner that perfectly fitted who he was.

“Good girl,” he said and snapped his fingers. You expected something to happen, like a change of scenery or a flash of light, “that’s it?” you questioned him, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry darling, am I to boring for you? Should I put on fireworks?” James scoffed, this also never happened to him before. Everyone else shuddered, scrabbled to get away but there you sat, with a bored expression.

“Call Andy, ask how the renovations at the house are going,” he told you, lightly rolling his eyes at your suspicious glance. But you did what he said, Andy picking up after the third ring, “hey honey, how is it going with the house?” you lowly asked, expecting to be disappointed.

“What house? You mean the apartment? I guess everything is fine, nothing’s changed…are you coming home soon?” he questioned you thoroughly, confusion evident in his voice.

A huge smile crawled onto your lips, finally the nightmare was over. “Yeah, yeah, I will be home in no time!” you said with happiness before hanging up. “Now where is my thank you?” James pulled you from your thoughts, licking his lips.

“Oh, yeah we will think of a date later,” you answered standing up, pushing his leg aside. The demons face fell, he wanted you now. “You have to keep your end of the bargain,” he reminded you, standing up too with a glare.

He towered over you, flexing his broad shoulders while the air around you all of a sudden became thick. “I know but you never said when and you told me that you won’t do anything without my consent, so…,” for the first time you could grin at him in triumph. Patting his shoulder, you left him there at the park, letting him brood to himself.

James had never regretted not making a contract, he always made a contract to ensure he would not get screwed over and the one time he didn’t do one? He gets screwed over. Not to mention everyone was scared of him, begging him to let them live and they were desperate enough to do anything.

As he growled dark clouds began roaming the sky, his eyes took on their usual blood red colour and black horns emerged from his forehead. He was boiling with anger, no he would not touch you or hurt you, but he would also not leave you alone.

Coming home felt like a relieve for the first time in months, no house to worry about, no finances and just you with Andy. For the past few weeks your sex life had been awful, but today you felt like jumping his bones – Andy surely wouldn’t mind.

You opened the door, instantly seeing Andy on the couch. While walking towards him you started taking of your clothes, only keeping your lingerie on as you sat down in his lap.

“Oh, welcome home sweetheart,” he mused, wrapping his hands around your waist, “look at you pretty girl,” his eyes staring right at your tits. God, he loved the sight of them, how cruel of you to leave them in your bra.

“My eyes are up here cowboy,” you smirked, tilting his chin up with your index finger before capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Andy groaned in satisfaction, devouring you with hunger, tongue slipping into your mouth.

Meanwhile, you started grinding you clothed core onto his hardened erection. Moaned into his mouth as he gripped your waist tight, “mhm, let me taste your cock daddy please,” you whined as you pulled on his belt and who was Andy to decline your wish?

“Get on your knees,” he ordered, breathing heavily as he unbuckled his belt. Without hesitation you kneeled down, grasping his hard length.

Andy’s hand fisted your hair, holding you steady while you wrapped your lips around his cock. “Don’t you wish it was my cock you were tasting?” the voice didn’t belong to Andy, no it was James.

Your eyes widened, squeezing Andy’s dick harder unintentionally and choking on him. “yes sweetheart, choke on it,” he moaned, pushing your head deeper down. Thank god did he not notice. You continued your work, trying to ignore the weird feeling spreading in your stomache.

“I need to be inside you,” Andy gasped, hosting you up on his lap and pushing your panties aside. You held onto his shoulders for support, needing to concentrate on him for now. He helped you ease down on his cock, “Andy, please,” you whined, wanting him to just stretch you open.

“Can he even fully satisfy you darling? I doubt he can make you come as hard as I would,” his voice sounded taunting, he was probably having the time of his life and a cheshire grin across his lips.

“Shut up,” you whispered out loud without even realising it. Andy opened his eyes, looking at you with a hint of confusion, “what?” he asked.

“Nothing, just fuck me,” you begged and hoped he would listen before James ruined the mood for you completely. Your boyfriend didn’t need to be told twice, sitting you down on his member. The sound of your wet cunt motivating him to grip your hips and move you like he wanted.

“Really? That’s what turns you on, not what I expected,” it was as if he was lounging right next to you, but his voice sounded so distant at the same time. Fucking demon.

You started moving at a quicker pace in order to reach your high, gripping him like a vice. “Sweetheart just like that, I love you,” Andy breathed out, letting his head rest on your shoulder and biting gently into your skin.

“Aw, he loves you! How sweet of him, isn’t he just the best?” okay, yeah, now your mood and a chance of an orgasm were ruined. At least you could make Andy come.

You sped up, whispering how good he makes you feel, how bad you needed him and his big, strong cock. It didn’t take long for him to fill you up with his load and with that he groaned loudly inside your neck.

“Feel good honey?” you asked him sweetly, stroking his hair. “With you always,” he countered kissing you softly and full of love. Gently he lifted you of himself, telling you he will come back with a wet towel after wrapping you inside a blanket.

“Wow darling, couldn’t even make you come? Quite a show you put on,” now James was there, sitting next to you in all his might.

“Go away,” you snapped at him, hating how he could just show up at any point, anywhere and take up your mind just like that. “Yeah, I’m pretty down at the moment you know? Made this deal and the woman is not keeping her end,” he shrugged.

“Maybe you need to be clearer on your terms,” you simply told him, not giving him any glance, “you should go before Andy comes back,” you added with light annoyence.

“Don’t worry, he won’t see me unless I allow him to,” he shrugged, turning his head towards you. His hand came up to edge of the blanket, slightly moving it to the side to get a glimpse of your underwear but you slapped his hand away with a death glare, “don’t you dare.”

“I don’t take it kindly someone screwing me over, normally I would kill you…slice your throat open or make you suffer through endless days of torture…,” he whispered in your ear making you close your eyes as his finger trailed down the side of your cheek. James grinned, showing his sharpened teeth.

For the first time in a while you actually felt fear, you feared what he would do to you. Goosebumps erupted on your skin, couldn’t Andy hurry up?

“I won’t do that to you, no need to be so scared darling…however I will make sure you will never forget our deal until you do what you promised,” gently he kissed your cheek, it would be sweet and nice, if there wasn’t a threatening meaning behind his words.

Just then you felt a cold wind of air around you, and when you opened your eyes, he was gone. Andy came back, smiling happily at you while handing a towel over to you. He opened his mouth saying something you didn’t hear, your mind was couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

What would Bucky do? Would he hurt Andy instead? Would he harass you into sleeping with him? No, that couldn’t be, he told you, you had to say yes…right?

“Hey, hey? Anyone home?” he waved his hand infront of your face, a hand on your shoulder. You shook your head, mumbling a yes as you took the towel from him to clean yourself up, “I’m going to bed,” you said, standing up to leave your boyfriend in the living room.

Andy watched you leave, confusion written over his features, did he do something wrong? “Of course you did, you didn’t satisfy her enough,” a voice whispered in his mind. It sounded like his own, yet it had a dark touch to it.

He let his head fall down, sighing to himself before following you to the bedroom. Meanwhile, you took of all of your clothes off and put one of Andys shirts on, then curling under the covers. You weren’t sure how to handle the situation, but you knew it would cost you a lot of sleep.

The next day rolled around, Andy was gone before sunrise to work. You stayed in bed, called in sick for the day and researched if anything could help you right now.

You didn’t dare to leave the bedroom, not if it wasn’t completely necessary. Of course, if James wanted to, he could just appear here too, however you told yourself this was a safe space.

At one point you had to leave the room, carefully walking to the kitchen to find something to eat. In the end it became a sandwich, as you turned around with the plate in hand it almost fell right out of it again.

The kitchen gave a perfect view into the living room and therefore right on the couch. There he was, James, who you had been dreading to see, hoping for one day you would have peace. But no, instead he sat right in front of you and worse of all with no fucking shirt.

“Why are you half naked?” you pressed through gritted teeth, setting the plate down. James only shrugged, standing up to walk towards you, “does it bother you?” he knew it did, and he knew how handsome he looked.

“Yes, now go,” rolling your eyes, hoping it would actually work – probably not but it was worth a try. “You don’t mean that darling,” he whispered, walking closer to you with an intense expression until he stood right in front of you.

You took a deep breath before looking up at him, why did he have to be so tall? Most likely even taller than Andy…, “be careful, don’t want you hurting your neck,” James chuckled, hand coming up to cares your cheek. The act was so gentle you almost forgot who you were talking to.

“Reading minds now, huh?” you asked, trying your best to keep the glare on your face. “I could, but I just know how short your little boyfriend is,” he countered, oh how he enjoyed talking Andy down.

“What do you want demon? You threatened me and now make me look around every corner,” you said honestly. You hated how vulnerable you were right now.

“I wouldn’t have to if you had kept your end of the bargain…,” James tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch felt good, and you hated it because it meant whatever he was trying to do was working.

“I couldn’t, I love him so much…I couldn’t do that to him,” even the thought of doing something like that, hurt you and most importantly made you angry about yourself, because why couldn’t you love Andy enough to accept the house?

“Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you see yourself spending forever with him?” James knew the question would hit a sensitive spot, it was part of his plan after all.

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, there was no way you would crumble under him. “Is it not? You wanted to make the deal, you wanted out of that house,” for once he tried not to smirk, knowing he was right.

“The house was a ruin!” you raised your voice, stepping away in order to leave the situation.

“Sweetheart? Who are you talking to?” What? Why was Andy home this early? One look from the door back to James made you realise he was already gone. Andy stepped inside the kitchen, again a little confused.

“No one, sorry, what are you doing home?” you asked instead, coming around the isle to kiss his cheek. “Have you looked at the clock? It’s five pm,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around his waist.

“Oh, yeah right, I’m just a little tired,” you tried smiling it off, but Andy didn’t seem to buy your words entirely. Before he was able to ask questions you left for the bedroom again.

“See that? She is not happy with you anymore. She looks sad just being here with you,” that voice sounded in his mind again. For the whole day these thoughts had been haunting him, now he had enough.

With quick steps he followed you, “are you happy?” he called after you, making you still in your movements. “What?” “Are you happy? Do you still love me?” he questioned further.

“Why would you even ask me that?” you were utterly confused by his actions, by his words. “You’ve been acting weird, always closed up and when we have sex-“ “seriously? I sucked your dick off only days ago and let you fuck me like you wanted, I would hardly call that being weird.”

Andy looked at you with an unreadable expression, “wow, now that you say it! I just have to be wrong then,” he scoffed. Shaking his head, putting one hand on his hip.

“Andrew stop whining, I’m fine and you have no idea how much I love you,” you bit back, rolling your eyes at his stupid thoughts. Where does all of this come from? Of course, you had fights with Andy, but they all ended as soon as they started. Add to that, why was he so insecure?

You have known him for five years by now and he had always been confident in his being as well as your relationship.

“If you love me so much, why won’t you show me? I’m tired of this shit,” with that he turned around and headed towards the front door, “you’re acting like a child!” you shouted after him.

You took a deep breath, did this really just happen? “Wow, how sad, poor Andy,” great, James was just what you needed right now. “Told you it won’t last,” he leaned against the wall oppisite of you. “Did you plant these ideas in his head?” you questioned him, fury present in your tone.

“What if I did?” pushing himself off the wall, “it’s the truth, he doesn’t deserve you darling,” again his found their way to your cheeks. Why did he always have to be so close? Oh, right, because he knew it made you weak.

“You just want to sleep with me, you don’t like that I screwed you over and now you’re destroying my life!” you were close to tears, you thought after getting rid of the house everything would be better.

“No, no, I’m not but you could have such a better life with me, I knew it from the moment I first saw you,” James looked like he really meant it, as if you could just believe him.

“So, what, it was all a trap?” you asked, slowly beginning to get more angry than sad. “Well, I didn’t expect you to lie to me,” he admitted. A part of him, however, was proud of you, not everyone had the guts to lie to a demon.

Honestly you were fed up with him, with the whole situation. He destroyed your relationship with Andy and made you rethink your whole life. Then again, he was a demon, a creature you never thought would exist and yet here you were talking to him.

“You said you wouldn’t force me, but here you are,” you argued, wanting to break free of his hold. “Then step away, I’m not holding you. I know you’re fighting with yourself, take a step back if you really think you don’t want this.”

You did not step back, you didn’t move an inch. Biting the inside of your cheek, you didn’t dare to meet his gaze.

He moved his hand under your chin, lifting your head up, “it is time you keep your end of the deal,” with that he placed his lips on yours. At first, he didn’t move, waiting for you to change your mind.

Then you slightly opened your mouth, inviting him in – an invitation he gladly took. His tongue explored your mouth, consuming you with pure hunger. You tasted just like he imagined, like sweet honey and he doubted he would ever want to stop tasting you.

You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him closer while he moved to tightly grip your waist. Suddenly he began pushing you towards the bedroom, without breaking the kiss.

Once you were through the door, you turned to push him away in order to breath, “you forget I’m human,” you said breathlessly.

Suddenly you were thrown on the bed, “James,” you shrieked, caught off guard. “Bucky, call me Bucky,” he said, undressing you with his eyes. You didn’t have time to question the change of name as he ripped Andys shirt of your body, “you can give him the shreds back.”

Bucky licked his lips, slowly kneeling down on the bed, his fingers skimmed along your naked skin causing you to lightly twitch. Hooking his fingers under your thong, slipping it down your legs.

Your breath hitched, everything about him screamed dominance but between your legs it was an unexplainable aura. Not even Andy was able to make you feel this way.

Throwing your underwear on the floor he wrapped your legs around his neck, “has he ever tasted you? Really, tasted you?” You just shook your head, flabbergasted with wide eyes, “no, he…just used his fingers,” you confessed, blood pressure rising.

Bucky only gave you one of his signiture smirks before lowering his head to your dripping cunt. He let his tongue glide through, before closing his mouth around your clit and harshly sucking on it. His hands kept your hips in place, he knew this was something you’ve never felt before.

A loud moan left your lips at this new sensation, hand coming down to tightly grip his hair. “Fuck,” you breathed, other hand holding onto the sheets.

Bucky lapped at your cunt like a starved man, “fucking delicious darling,” he groaned against you. Rocking your hips up against his mouth, you whined as it didn’t feel like enough, “more, please.” It made him chuckle, “I didn’t know you had manners, want my fingers so bad?”

You nodded franticly, bucking your hips up again as an invitation. He coated his two digits with your slick, then pushing them inside you. He already felt so much better than anyone else before.

“Gripping me like a vice, I can already imagine how tight you will feel around my cock,” he gloated, curling his fingers against your velvet walls. You just agreed with everything he was saying, enjoying the way he ate you up.

“Oh, shit,” you moaned as you felt a knot tighten in your stomach, the feeling of pleasure consuming your body and Bucky’s sinful words filling your thoughts. Bucky saw you crunching your eyes together and slightly lifting your hips. It was all it took for him to realise how close you were to coming.

The demon curled his finger against your g-spot, tongue circling your clit, “come for me darling,” his beard was scratching against your sensitive skin. A pornographic moan slipped from your lips as a rush of ecstasy crashed into you, it was all it took for you to have one of the best orgasms you ever had.

“Beautiful, my good girl,” Bucky kissed along your stomache, still keeping his fingers inside you to slowly work your through your orgasm. “Don’t lie to me, did little Andy satisfy you like you needed?” he hovered above you, letting his forehead rest on yours.

“No, no, he was always gentle and-,” “you want it rough huh?” he cut you off with a wicked glint in his eyes. You wouldn’t say it like that, but it never mattered what you did, Andy was always nice and took great care of you. Which of course is good to a certain point, however sometimes when you tried to initiate a rougher approach, it didn’t work. At all.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never…,” you mumbled, not knowing what to say to him. Without knowing him for long, you could’ve already guessed Bucky was gentle but had no fears of being rough and pushing you as far as he could.

A slap on your drenched cunt had you gasping, head falling back. “Are you already too fucked out to form logical sentences? One orgasm and you’re gone, what will my thick cock do to your little brain?” he cooed.

Yeah, you could die right on the spot. “Now, say it again,” he whispered, continuing to rub your clit in slow circles. Your brain began working overtime, trying to form a complete sentence to please him, “Yes, I want it-,” you had to take a deep breath as he pressed onto nub as he watched you with anticipation, “rough,” you finished.

It was as if something snapped in Bucky, like a coin dropping. Bucky ripped your bra in two before undressing himself. The sight of him made your mouth water, he may be a demon, but he looked divine.

Your eyes trailed down to his large member, standing proud and the tip hitting his lower stomache. Once he was completely naked, he came back to you, gently taking your ankles.

Thinking he would draw you closer to him, you lifted your hips but instead he roughly flipped you on your stomache. Then let his hands glide to your waist, pulling you against his chest. His body radiated with warmth and his hard cock pressing against your lower back.

“I’ll fill you up so good darling, you will feel me for days,” he promised, fingers pushing in your glistening pussy. “You’re so wet for me,” he pulled his fingers from, holding them up to your mouth, “open,” he commanded, instantly, without thinking you listened.

“Suck, darling,” he added, you followed his order and sucked his fingers clean of your slick. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” a moan slipped from your lips at his words, you would’ve never thought something like that would turn you on this much.

“Now imagine how good we would taste together,” those were the last words you were able to comprehend before his pushed his leaking tip into your cunt.

A loud gasp sounded through the room, being slightly muffled by Bucky’s fingers. He continued to push further inside you, splitting you open. “Bucky,” you whimpered, holding tightly onto his arm.

“Mhm, I was right, you’re so fucking tight. Feel my thick cock splitting you open?” he growled against the shell of your ear. He continued pushing in, the way he stretched you made you feel a kind of pain you welcomed. Bucky began moving his hips at a slow pace.

You tried focusing on forming words, but your head felt empty, he filled you up too good. A deep chuckle sounded through the room, “can’t believe I already fucked you dumb,” he could believe it. “Fuck, see? This is what happens when you finally get properly fucked.”

“Please, faster,” finally you managed to say something, and it didn’t surprise Bucky, but who was he to deny your wish? His pace became rougher. You never thought a cock was able to make you feel this good, you never came from Andy’s before.

With every thrust he hit your spot, god how much he loved the feeling of you clenching your walls together. When he added his thumb into the play you moaned louder. He loved the sounds he could drive from you.

“Such a dumb little slut, this what you were made for,” lacing his hand around your throat and squeezing it made your walls clench resulting in Bucky groaning deeply.

You felt the need to have Bucky closer, his body flush against your, cock stretching you in ways you never dreamed of and yet he was still so far away. You took his free hand to wrap around your waist, a silent order to press you closer to himself.

“Darling am I not close enough for you?” in a teasing tone, he began pressing small kisses to your neck. His cock hitting deep inside you, watching a belly bulge becoming visible. Why did you try to prevent this moment from happening?

“Fuck best cunt I’ve ever had, I’m gonna come and let you milk my cock till the last drop,” Bucky was close to the edge, it had been too long since last had his cock buried inside anyone. He had masturbated to this thought countless times, but it was better than he could ever imagine.

“Come for me, come for the demon you deem he destroyed your life,” you tightened around him, head falling on his shoulder, “I need more,” you begged, you enjoyed his skilled hands.

The demon smirked, letting go of your neck to rub your clit, then shoved his pointer finger in beside his throbbing cock. In response you moaned loudly, a fully new sensation. “That way we can make sure I won’t slip out,” he chuckled, he wouldn’t have slipped out either way, but he enjoyed seeing your reaction.

“Fucking come for me, I said,” his tone became harsher, more controlling. Bucky curled his finger in rhythm with his hard thrusts. That was it the curling finger, the thumb circling your clit, the way he split you open with his cock.

A pathetic whine left you as you came all over Bucky’s cock, bliss shooting through your veins. “Bucky,” you sighed over and over again, the name music in his ears.

“Good girl, told you, you’d be chanting my name” he praised, his pace becoming uneven as his high neared, “milk every last drop of me or I will paint your pretty face with it and let you walk in front of Andy like that.”

He reached his high head falling in the nape of your neck. You accepted every drop of him like you were told, your hand snaking into his hair to ensure he stayed like this.

As the last drop came from him, he stilled in your cunt. Endorphins jumping through the air, you’ve never been happier and this because of a demon who had threatened to ruin your life, who stole millions of souls.

You didn’t know how to act, all your feeling were over the place. Everything felt right, for just a moment you were able to forget everything that happened.

Softly Bucky moved out of you, drawing a whimper from you, “I know you’re missing me already, but we gotta be careful,” why did we need to be careful? You wanted to questioned him, but then he was gone while you laid on the fluffy covers. It only took a second, then he was back with a wet towel to clean you up. You silently observed him, maybe he was right, maybe you couldn’t see a future with Andy and maybe this was more what you wanted.

yall know I love my andy, but he's just perfect for this role, and so there he went.... If you liked it, give a reblog and/or feedback!

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spiderwebbedhearts · 3 months ago

Text

this is adorable omg

Light that Lamp (1/?)

Part 1

Pairings: collegehockeyplayer!ari Levinson x female reader

Warnings: friends with benefits/idiots in love, horny college seniors, sexually explicit content, explicit language, smut- talk of oral (male receiving), fingering, making consensual sexual bets/deals, praise kink, HUGE SIZE KICK- Ari is 6'6 without skates and reader is smaller than him (must be 18+)

Word Count: ~3.3K

A/N: This is not beta read. All mistakes are my own ♥️

"goddamnit" Ari cursed, rummaging through his oversized hockey duffle bag while you sat perched on his bed, watching him.

"Bit... can you help me look?" he asked, a little panicked.

"Levs... it's probably at the rink" you tried reassuring him.

"It's not" he grunted, "looked earlier today... can you look under the bed?"

"If I do and we still don't find it, can we drop it and watch a movie?" you bargained.

"Fine... sure... whatever" he said, not even hearing you as he opened his closet door and started looking around on the floor.

"How you manage to misplace that thing every time..." you grumbled, sliding off his bed and sinking to the floor. You squirmed under the bed awkwardly, ass in the air as you looked for his ancient CD player.

"I don't understand why you can't just listen to music on your phone like everyone else" you complained, pushing aside a textbook.

You weren't being fair- you knew how much that CD player meant to him- a gift from his Grandpa when he was just a kid.

"Can't... it's my thing... gotta listen to it before every game" he said, turning away from his closet and freezing when his eyes fell to your perfectly rounded ass, back arched in a way that made his cock twitch.

"Hey... here's my favorite sweatshirt" you chirped in excitement, "I'm taking this" you added, hugging the number 22 sweatshirt to your side in the tight space.

"Come on, bit" Ari blew out impatiently, "you find it?"

"Not yet" you grunted, pushing another book aside before, "hey... wait... I found it" you chirped as your hand clasped around the CD player from the 90s.

"Levs..." you yipped when he suddenly gripped the soft curves of your hips, yanking you out from under his bed and lifting you clear off the floor with ease.

"Hey!" you squeaked in protest as he hugged your back to his bare chest, taking the CD player from you before placing you gently back to your feet.

"Thank fuck" he smiled from ear to ear, "Christ, I could kiss you right now" his laugh was warm as relief washed over him. Ari pressed the button to open the CD player, checking on the CD inside.

"Oh, yeah?" you smirked, "think you might be interested in more then just kissing..." you eyed the large semi tent in his sweatpants.

"Shut up" he laughed, pushing you playfully on the bed, "your ass was in the air and... your ass was in the air" he emphasized- like that was all the explanation needed- climbing into bed next to you.

"Where's Kimmy?" you asked with a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

"That's over" he shrugged, readjusting his sweatpants before grabbing the remote to get the movie set up.

"Oh, shit" you tried your best to fake a frown, "I'm sorry..."

"Right" Levs snorted, dripping with sarcasm.

"I didn't know" you insisted, tucking your legs up under you.

"There's no way you're sorry about it... you hated Kimmy..." he laughed.

"No I didn't" you chirped. But Levs just smirked at you- knowing you were lying.

"Well... I'm sorry..." you offered again- forcing yourself to be more genuine this time.

"Naaaah" Ari shrugged again, "Wasn't really anything to begin with... mostly just blowing off steam."

"Wow... how sweet" you frowned, "all girls dream about being a guy's just blowing off steam moment..." you over exaggerated a heartsick look before you were hit in the head with a pillow.

"Hey" you giggled, grabbing your pillow and swinging it at Ari before he was on you, pinning you to the mattress and tickling you relentlessly.

"Levs, stop!" you shrieked, "stop!"

"Didn't hear you complaining when we used to blow off steam together..." he goaded, sitting up and pulling you with him.

"HA!" you snorted, "more like I'd suck you off and you'd pass out" you rolled your eyes, "Jesus... you were a dick back then..."

"Fuuuuck" Ari groaned, ducking and letting his forehead meet yours before squeezing his eyes shut, "you were so good at giving head" he sighed, nostalgically.

"Still am" you tempted, chest blooming when he pressed a kiss to your crown before sitting back up.

"If I was such a dick back then... why are we still friends?" he asked, cocking his head with a mischievous grin.

"I dunno" you sighed, "I'm a glutton for punishment" you shrugged then shivered, inching closer to him.

"You cold?" he asked, letting his gaze drop to the delicate camisole you were wearing.

"Always" you sighed, frowning when Ari got up, leaving you shivering as he went to his closet and pulled out a sweatshirt. He sat down on the bed, making you shift as he tossed the sweatshirt in your lap.

"Gonna need that one back" he teased- only half meaning it, "think Kimmy thought we had something going on on-the-side... she didn't like that you have all my sweatshirts and hoodies" he smiled softly at you.

"But that's over now... right?" you asked frowning at the thought of having to deal with Kimmy and her snotty friend for even one more millisecond.

"Completely over" Levs confirmed with a nod.

"Then I can go back to stealing all your sweatshirts?" you gave him your best doe-eyed look.

"Of course" his gaze never left yours, his smile only growing wider- making your stomach somersault, "I love seeing you in my sweatshirts..."

"None of your girlfriends seem to like me" you rolled your eyes, pulling the sweatshirt down over your head and sighing happily when you were drowning in the oversized hoodie. Ari's scent surrounding you and making your belly do another flip-flop.

"They're not girlfriends..." Ari insisted, "just..."

"Steam?" you offered, still hating all of them just the same.

"Yeah... just steam" Ari's smile made your heart ache, "they don't matter... not like you bitty..."

"That's probably why they hate me" you faux chastised him with a side eye- trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks as you felt your heart swell.

"You're my best friend... you're supposed to be close to your best friend" he laughed, leaning back on his pillow and wrapping his arm around you, hugging you to his chest.

Unfortunately, for you, something had changed this year- you tried to deny it to yourself- but the truth was you didn't want to be just Ari's friend anymore. And it scared the hell out of you.

"Are best friends supposed to know how each other taste?" you didn't even notice your palm pressing down the length of his chest.

"Fuuuuck" Ari's airy groan went straight to your core, his big warm hand rubbing up-and-down the length your back, "gonna make me hard if you keep saying shit like that, bit..."

You squirmed against him, the deep rumble in his chest damn near ruining your panties.

"Is that a bad thing?" you whispered, his gaze drifting to your lips.

"How long has it been for you?" He asked, pupils dilating as he felt his cock twitch again.

"Too long" you sighed, melting against him when his hand moved from your back to grip at your hip.

You and Ari laid there in a comfortable silence, your head finding his chest, as the air crackled with tension, you bit back a gasp when his hand started moving for your ass.

"Um" you cleared your throat, "how about we go downstairs and find a drink?" you asked, pushing off his brick wall of a chest and sitting up, a little confused at the sudden nerves spiking through you.

"You know I can't drink before a game" he said, wrapping his arm around your waist as his thumb drew small circles at your bare thigh.

"I like these" his fingertips brushed over the lite fabric of your sleep shorts, "they're soft..."

"Thanks" you licked over your dry lips, feeling your face flush with warmth when you caught him staring at the way your tongue traced over your mouth, "I brought some new stuff over tonight... you OK with me still keeping stuff here?"

"Of course..." he smiled, tugging the hem of your shorts gently between his pointer and thumb.

Ari had given you a dresser drawer last year to keep pajama shorts and few other things in for movie nights when you would -too often- end up just crashing in his bed.

Maybe that's why all his girlfriends "steam-friends" didn't like you so much?

"What do you usually do before games now?" you asked, "the night before the big game has pretty much turned into girlfriend time since last season..." you didn't like the way your heart sank thinking about Ari with other girls, the bitter taste of jealousy flooding your senses.

"Is my itty bitty jealous?" Levs teased, pinching at your curves.

"Stop..." you whined, swatting his hand, "you know Friday nights used to only be our thing..."

You weren't trying to be clingy- but you couldn't help it- you were feeling sad.

"It is our thing" Ari swore when you scoffed, "from now on... I promise... just me and you, bit..."

You frowned down at him- brows knitting together in the way that always made Levs smile- convinced he was having fun at your expense, but, in the past year or so- he was actually fighting the urge to kiss you.

"Come on, pretty girl" he teased, gently, "can it be just our thing from now on?"

When your frown deepened to the cutest scowl he'd ever seen, Ari did something he had never done before...

Ari pushed up on his elbow, leaning into you and brushed his lips over yours- some would argue that it hardly even counted as a kiss- but it was enough.

Enough to make it all so painfully crystal clear. You were head over heals for your best friend.

"Bit?" Ari looked nervous when he pulled away, watching you intently, "tell me what you're thinking..."

"I... um..." you were having trouble forming thoughts of any kind, "um..."

Your eyes started welling with tears- but you had no clue why- heart hammering in your chest.

"It's OK, bit" Ari's words were reassuring, even if you saw disappointment swimming in his eyes, "we can just watch the movie..."

You sat there, so angry at yourself for not being able to say something- anything. You tucked your knees up into the sweatshirt you were wearing and worried your bottom lip with your teeth- all of your thoughts running-a-muck in your head while Ari clicked through the streaming service to find a movie.

"So what are Fridays now?" the question was miles away from what you really wanted to ask him.

"What do you mean?" Levs didn't understand, most of your thought process waging a silent war in your head and coming out all jumbled.

"With your girlfriends... what did Friday nights turn into after... me?" you managed to clarify.

"Oh, um... I dunno..." Ari shrugged, "nothing special... just watching tv... then maybe messing around a little and passing out" Ari said, his hand rubbing up under your hoodie and reaching under your camisole. It's not the first time Ari's touched your bare skin but it had been awhile since his touch made your panties soak right through.

You swallowed hard, trying not to react as you clenched your thighs together, forcing yourself to focus on the tv screen and the beginning credits.

"Hey... Itty?" Ari said, snapping the waistband of your cotton sleep shorts to get your attention.

"You know I hate that nickname" you blew out a grumble.

"Why?" he laughed, smiling affectionately up at you as you turned to look at him. The beefcake looked good, arm lazily tucked up under his head as he sprawled comfortably on his bed.

"Everyone is smaller than you" you defended yourself, "you're 6'6 without the skates..."

"Yeah... and you're what? 5 feet and some change?" he laughed.

"Something like that" you answered, letting your eyes wander to the dusting of hair at his chest, you swallowed dryly, your lips parting in a soft sigh.

"You're Itty Bitty" he smiled, "the team's given other player's girls far worse nicknames."

"So I'm your girl?" You asked, catching his beautiful blue eyes in a soft gaze.

"Of course you're my girl, bit" Ari smiled, tugging you back down to his chest as he kissed your forehead. He chained soft kisses down the bridge of your nose, before stopping at your lips. Ari hovered there as you shared the same air, shivering in anticipation when your foreheads met.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you carded your fingers through his hair, your heart surging forward as you tugged him closer to you. Ari's groan went straight to your core when you pulled him in.

"You sure about this, bit?" Ari hummed against your lips. You wordlessly nodded your head before crashing into him in a needy kiss.

Ari wasted no time, pulling you on top of him, you teetered over his larger frame as your tongue swept into his mouth. Ari groaned into the kiss, loving the soft sounds he was so easily drinking from your lips while you rolled your hips over him.

"So fucking good for me, bitty" he grunted, his hands guiding your hips over his impossibly hard cock.

"Levs" you gripped his shoulders, whimpering, needing so much more as your arousal soaked through your sleep shorts to his sweatpants.

"It's OK, bit" Ari groaned, kissing along your jaw as he reached up the big hoodie and into your shorts, finding the soaked cloth- covering your clit.

"Fuck, baby" his voice soft and warm as he kissed back into your mouth, "you OK with this?" He paused, pulling away to look into your eyes.

"Yes" your entire body was trembling as you sat there straddling him, "Levs... please..."

Ari's chest rumbled possessively, his eyes blown dark as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them before reaching down into your panties and pressing hard against your clit.

"Oh, god" you moaned, going pliant against him as his skilled fingers worked you over.

You whined impatiently, frantically rocking over his hand when he slides two fingers inside you.

"Shit" Ari hissed, panting at your dewy crown as your walls flutter around him, "you're so fucking tight..."

Your head lulled over his shoulder, you lips finding his warm skin as you kissed down his chest. You gasped when Ari's fingers bottomed out with a dirty grind to your clit. The guttural groan ripped straight from your actual soul making him go still.

"Bit?" Ari asked with so much concern, "you OK?"

"Yes" you moaned, raking your fingers through the dusting of hair over his pecks, "fuck... I need you" you panted wrapping your arms around his neck as you rocked into his hand.

"You have me, baby" he smiled against your lips when his fingers curled into your spongey walls, your eyes rolling back as you sobbed. The sensation too much and not enough when the coil deep in your belly began to fray.

Ari swallowed your high pitched keen when you met your release, tears streaming down your face as your pussy walls fluttered around his fingers.

"Did so good for me, itty bit" Ari cooed, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb. You whined when he pulled his fingers from your core, bringing them to his lips and groaning at the taste of you swirling his tongue.

You watched Ari in a sleepy daze, leaning in to capture his lips in a needy kiss. The tears kept coming as you let yourself go- let yourself feel- realizing just how much you needed him, needed to feel him.

"Levs" you whimpered as he hugged you tightly to his chest.

"I need you" you whispered, feeling shy as you came down from your high.

"You keep saying that, sweetheart" Ari’s laugh was soft, pulling your hoodie off and revealing the thin camisole as he pressed you gentle down on the bed, laying between your legs and resting his head at your breasts.

"I promise you got me" he kissed just below the hem of your shirt at your ribs, you squirmed when his beard tickled your prickling skin.

"No" you whined, too sleepy and embarrassed to articulate what you wanted as another sob bubbled up your throat.

"Y/N, what's wrong" Ari asked, shifting so he could meet your gaze, his eyes soft with concern.

"Did you not... want that?" he tried to swallow the fear building in his throat.

"No, no" you chirped, pushing up and putting your hand to his chest, forcing him back on his haunches as he watched on with confusion.

"I wanted that" you swore, "I want all of you" you said, climbing into his lap, your hands on him- touch trailing gently to his waistband.

"You want to?" Ari sounded so hopeful before a frown knit across his face, "baby... I got the game... gotta get some sleep or I'll play like shit... and... you're just so..." his voice trailed off.

"So what?" you blinked down at him from where you sat straddling him, feeling your stomach sink.

"Bit... you're just so small" Ari shook his head on a loud exhale, "and we've never..."

"So?.... everyone's small compared to you... all the girls you get with are short..." you protested.

"They're not as tight as you" Ari insisted, you could feel him growing hard beneath you as a heat crept up your cheeks.

"It could hurt..." he added, regretfully.

"I'll be fine" you swallowed, cupping his bulge through his sweatpants before his caught your wrist.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "this is really what you want?" his insistence for consent made your heart bloom. You leaned down, cradling his chiseled jaw as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, Ari groaned, lifting you slighting so you couldn't grind over his aching cock.

"Yes" you whispered against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you sank back into his lap, "I want you, Levs... have for a long time..."

The kiss you gave him then was slow and sinful- working you both up- as you poured all your feelings for him into the press of your lips. Ari's groans filled the space, driving you crazy, he was all handsy and squeezing your ass as the heat threatened to burn a hole right though both of you.

"Fuck... I want this too" he grunted when you had finally pulled away for air, "I want you so bad, bit..." he groaned when you rolled your hips over him, pulling you into another toe curling kiss.

"OK..." but Ari swallowed the word before it could leave your mouth until you started pushing him away, "so... when?" your voice was hoarse, feeling a little lightheaded.

He just nipped at your lips.

"Tomorrow... after your game?" you asked, not wanting to wait a second longer.

"Maybe..." Ari frowned and you whined -actually making a pouty face- you had forgotten his stupid superstition of not letting himself get lucky after a loss.

"How about my next goal?" he nipped another kiss at your lips.

"Is that too much pressure?" you worried out loud.

"No way" he insisted, ""it'll make me play that much harder... cause after I score... I know I'll get to come home and have you... I'll work you open so good... get you so ready for me... I wanna watch you cum on my cock, bitty..."

Your head was swimming with the filthy imagery he painted.

"Promise?" the word a trembled whimper.

"I promise, Y/N" he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling you both back down on the bed, "now sleep, pretty girl... I got a lot riddin' on this game tomorrow" he gave your hip a thourough squeeze.

"Your next goal..." you promised -hope buzzing in the air- before adding, "hopefully after tomorrow's game... I'll be the one ridin'... you" you giggled, kissing his jaw when he started laughing.

The last thing you remember of this crazy night was Ari kissing the crown of your head, tucking you against his chest and whispering the sweetest promises as he lulled you both to sleep- dreaming of more naughty nights to come.

The dividers used in this series were made by the lovely @firefly-graphics ♥️

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