#Steve Rogers
thesuperheroesnetwork · 13 hours
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Texts From Superheroes
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Sharing is Caring
Pairing: Established Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: mentions of smut, cursing, competitive Avengers
Word Count: 1,262
Summary: Bucky doesn’t share food. No exceptions. Well, one exception.
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Bucky sat at the island counter alone, but he knew the solitude wouldn’t last long. It never did at the Compound. He shoveled another couple fries into his mouth and let his eyes trace over the words in his book as he quickly as he could. He wanted to enjoy his last few seconds of peace.
“Barnes!” Sam barked from behind him.
And there it went.
Bucky ignored him entirely and just continued eating with his book in hand. Sam wandered over, words half said out of his mouth, but when the man spotted the basket of fries in front of him he was distracted. Sam grinned, “Damn, are those the fries from the place downtown I told you about?” As he asked, he reached out to snatch one out of the basket. Bucky used his super soldier speed to drop his book then slammed his metal hand down to block the path of Sam’s hand to his food. Sam blinked in surprise, “Give me a fry, Barnes.”
“I don’t share food. Hit the road, Wilson.” Bucky replied.
“You don’t—” Sam scoffed, “You wouldn’t have even known about that place if it weren’t for me!”
Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, “Well, then go get your own food from there.”
“You gotta be shitting me. I’m not even asking for a lot.”
Steve wandered into the kitchen around that time and spotted his two best friends arguing, seconds away from tackling one another into a wrestling match, but it didn’t even faze him. This was more than a common occurrence. The blond spotted the basket of food sitting by Bucky’s book and reached out to grab one, but Bucky turned away from the argument to catch his hand with a glare.
“Don’t what me.” Bucky replied. “Try to touch my shit again, and I’ll break your hand, punk.”
Steve held back a grin, knowing this was an easy button of his friend’s to push, “Buck, come on. You’re joking, right? It’s a french fry. I’m Steve. Stevie?”
“Yeah, and it’s my French fry. Stevie can take a damn hike.” He replied and tossed his hand back at him. “What is with the world’s mightiest heroes trying to take my goddamn food today?”
Sam walked around the island to stand beside Steve across from the dark-haired man, “You know the Great Depression is over. There’s food all over the place now.”
“Exactly.” Bucky replied dryly. “So, why don’t you go get some of that food.”
Seconds later, Tony waltzed into the room looking like he hadn’t slept in days and he paused to take in the scene occurring in front of him. Steve pointed to his long-time best friend, and snitched on him like a third grader, “Bucky refuses to share.”
“You don’t have to share something that belongs to you.” Bucky argued.
Tony came to stand on the other side of Sam and held his hand out, “I want one.” Bucky leveled a glare at the genius, and he was damn sure that this had to be his villain origin story. He was gonna snap and beat the shit out of the three men in front of him. Tony just shrugged, “It’s the principle of it now. I want you to give me a fry and not give one to them.”
Sam and Steve both whipped their head to the side now in complaint. The three men in front of him began to argue over it. The desire to actually eat fries was low on the list of why this was happening. The Avengers, when they weren’t out saving the known universe, were a competitive bunch. It was why game night was a fucking nightmare and why they, as a group, decided monopoly should never be brought into this building ever again.
“Bucky, I have been your best friend since we were kids.” Steve argued. “I went on the run for you, jerk. Got Wakanda to take you in and help rehabilitate you.”
Sam shook his head, “I was the first person to get you an actual damn therapist since the government issued you that shitty one. Also, I helped you get back at Parker yesterday just for the hell of it. Who else in this building is going to help you bully a high schooler, no judgement?”
“Uh,” Tony narrowed his eyes, “I literally forgave you for murdering my mother and I now let you live in this amazing Compound.”
Sam and Steve groaned. The blond shook his head, “You used that reason two days ago to win at Poker night. You can’t use it twice in the same week!”
“Says who!?” Tony cried.
Bucky wondered how fast he could inhale all the fries in front of him before the men leapt across the counter and tackled him. Before he could start shoveling them all down though he heard a familiar voice chirp out a greeting to the group.
You strolled into the kitchen and sat down at the island right beside Bucky. Your hand reached out to playfully scratch at the scruff on his jawline then pulled him toward you to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, “Ooh, those fries look amazing. Can I have one?”
“Course, doll. Have as much as you want.” Bucky replied and slid the basket toward you.
“These are so good, damn. Where are they…” You said and while you were bringing the second fry to your mouth the men in front of you exploded into a large argument that you narrowed your eyes at in confusion. “What’s got you guys all worked up?”
Tony pointed to you, “This isn’t fair. She wasn’t part of the competition.”
“He’s biased.” Sam yelled.
Steve motioned out to you, “We were trying to get Bucky to share his fries with one of us based on who was better.” You narrowed your eyes at the words, but you were well aware of the dumb mini games the group would put themselves through. You had been a part of a number of them in the past. “And you should not have won the prize.”
You scoffed, “And why not??”
“What have you done for Barnes recently that would warrant deserving the fries over us??” Sam demanded to know.
“Hmm, let’s see,” You pretended to pause in thought before speaking up again, “Well, this morning, I sucked his dick.”
Bucky smirked, Tony’s jaw fell open, Steve’s face went bright red, and Sam choked on his spit. You ate one more fry before turning to your boyfriend and giving him another quick kiss. Bucky set his hand on your lower back, holding you in place, “You going to meet Nat in the gym?”
“Yeah, but we’re still on for dinner, right?”
“Mhmm.” Bucky replied and when you tried to lean back to leave he pulled you back in for another quick kiss on the lips. You rolled your eyes at him before walking out of the kitchen. Bucky turned back to the counter, ate one of his fries, then looked up at his friends who were still frozen in various degrees of surprise. He hummed, “Now that you know where the bar is set. If you’re still interested in getting some fries—”
The three stalked out of the kitchen, half grumbling, and Bucky scooped his book back off the counter as he went back to reading with a smirk on his lips. Bucky wasn’t crazy about sharing his food, but he was crazy about you.
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unearthlydust · 3 days
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CHRIS EVANS as STEVE ROGERS Captain America: Civil War (2016)
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jtargaryen18 · 2 days
His Inheritance: Chapter 26
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Part 26: Duplicity
Series Masterlist
Words: 4.3k
Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader
Warnings: References to illegal prescription drug use, firearm use, and deception. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.
Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.
Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.
Chapter 26
Dark dreams pulled Steve from sleep. It was 3:37 AM according to his phone.
With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, propping his pillow behind his wife’s back in his place. She was sound asleep and that had him smiling. The night before in the bath had been delicious. He had her again later in bed.
She’d need to sleep in after that.
So much raw emotion welled up in his chest as he watched her. His wife took up a lot of room when she slept, sprawling over the bed at night. Over him. He loved it, especially now that she mostly slept nude as he did. She was beautiful, her radiance and confidence growing by the day.
As he got dressed, he kept stealing glances at her. She’d brought a hell of a lot more than just status into his life. His wife challenged him. She challenged everyone. As delicate as she appeared now, asleep in his bed, she was formidable as a lioness, especially when defending those she cared about.
Steve couldn’t wait to have children with her. How fierce would their sons be? Hell, his daughters would be fierce too. He hoped they looked like her.
Making his way downstairs, thoughts of the family he wanted faded like dreams as he reached his study, returning to reality. Wincing in the light when he flicked it on, he saw the office was just as neat and sterile as it had ever been. Steve always had strict rules about who was allowed in his study, just like his father had.
Those rules didn’t apply to his wife, he realized, who came and went from his center of business as she damn well pleased.
Those memories he loved. Holding her in his chair, spanking her over the desk. Twice. That last one had to led to him just taking her like a beast on that refined wooden surface. It had him stirring just thinking about it. Steve wanted more memories like that. He wanted more.
What would it be like seeing toys littering the floor one day? Or to have little drawings left for him on his desk?
With a deep sigh, he sank heavily into his chair.
Ever since his wife had entered his life, she’d blurred the lines between his personal life and business. Steve walked a fine line between frustration and ecstasy the entire time with her, his need for her so often consuming his thoughts.
In the meantime, everything he thought he had control of was unraveling.
Barnes was coming for him, swiftly and methodically, and he needed to deal with that before he lost respect and credibility in that dark world. The fact that his rival was getting away with hitting his turf made Steve look weak, incompetent. Barnes striking his home, his family’s home, demanded a harsh answer. His leadership of the families would be defined by the decision he made here.
But Steve also needed to protect his family. And hadn’t he done a poor job of that lately? His sister had been severely beaten by her husband and before that Clint had been shot. Hansen’s attack on their home left Belova and Dyson both laid up.
His enemies seemed as obsessed with his wife as he was. If Hansen had gotten his hands on her…
Barnes had more than adequately demonstrated that no one was beyond his reach.
That had to change.
Steve had tried to be diplomatic in calling the meeting with the other family leaders. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Why was he trying to win the other families over when at least one of them was gunning for his?
“Up early, boss?” Luca looked in, making Steve realize he didn’t remember to close the door.
Steve nodded.
The portly cook walked just inside the office door. It was the only time of the day he ever saw the man in a pristine white apron.
“Your father used to do the same thing. Couldn’t sleep the night before. He’d just get up and get started. Always admired that about him.”
Steve snorted. “Probably never found himself in a situation this fucked up.”
“Sure he did,” Luca told him. “Someone challenged him, he hit them hard, and he hit them fast. That’s all. No mercy. No regrets.”
Luca made it sound so easy.
“You got a new consigliere yet?” Luca asked.
Steve nodded. “I’m going with Murdock.”
Luca nodded his approval. “Good choice. We’ll see what he’s made of these next few weeks.”
That was an understatement.
“I’m calling a meeting this evening,” Steve told him. “If I remember right Dyson’s going to get medical tests this morning?”
“That’s right,” the cook said. “Him and Belova both. They should be back from the hospital by this afternoon. We sending Scott with them?”
Steve shook his head. “I’ll be here all day. Send Neal.”
Luca nodded, closing the door behind him on the way out of the office.
Steve would spend some time getting his thoughts together. Then, with his crew, they’d decide how best to deal with Barnes.
Dyson smiled when she made her way from the exam room back out to the waiting area.
“How did it go?” he asked.
Yelena smiled back. “The CT scan didn’t show any damage. They also did a Brain Trauma Indicator test, but it will be a couple of days before we get the results of that.”
Dyson rose from his chair, and she hoped that meant they were ready to head back to the house. While she took some comfort from the fact that Mrs. Rogers’ husband was there with her – and she had Scott, Luca, and Clint – things were just so tense right now. So dangerous.
She would feel much better once she got back.
Dyson shrugged as they walked out of the office area to head back into the reception area of the hospital. “I’m just old.”
He laughed with her as they found the lobby where there were gift shops, a cafeteria, and an information desk. Neal sat not far from that desk with the paper in his hand. So much for being there to keep her and Dyson safe. He looked like he could really care less.
Neal couldn’t have cared less when Bruce Banner had been about to knock the shit out of her boss. Scott pulled Mrs. Rogers back but that wouldn’t have stopped him. And she was still cursing herself for not hearing the commotion sooner than she did.
Neal noticed the two of them a beat before they reached him. Dyson cleared his throat loudly, telling Yelena he was as unhappy with the soldier as she was.
“Ready to go?” Neal sounded bored.
“Yeah,” Dyson grumbled. “Go get the car, will ya?”
Yelena was hard put not to laugh as Neal glared at him, folding up the paper. His knuckles were white as he gripped that paper and marched toward the exit to do as he was told.
Just as he was walking out the electric doors at the hospital’s entrance, a familiar figure in teal-colored scrubs was walking in. Agnes spotted Yelena in an instant, smiling brightly.
Her heart nearly stopped in her chest.
Of course Neal recognized her, slowing down and glancing over his shoulder to get a good look. He would remember she came to the Rogers’ home. He’d already mentioned thinking she looked familiar. It wouldn’t be hard for him to put the pieces together and figure out why she really came that day.
It was the worst timing imaginable.
Dyson didn’t know either, so she had to fake a smile when Agnes walked up. It wasn’t her fault, and Yelena talked to her for moment. Her ID badge announcing her position as an RN was right there in plain sight.
“Let me know when the lady of the house needs another manicure,” Agnes said, a big wink and then she headed off to work.
Beyond the glass entrance, she could see Neal pulled up to the door in the car. She felt Dyson’s attention on her. She took a step but his hand on his shoulder stayed her.
“That’s the lady you brought to the house to do Mrs. Rogers manicure?” he asked.
Yelena nodded. “She does it as a side hustle,” she tried.
“She’s an RN according to her badge,” Dyson pointed out.
She shrugged, turning to meet his gaze. “So? She does a good job. Mrs. Rogers was happy with how her nails turned out.”
Yelena tried to continue walking. This time Dyson jerked her to a halt.
“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did,” he said, dead serious.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Yelena played dumb. She wasn’t counting on it to work but she had to try.
“Yes, you do.” Dyson blew out an exhale.
Yelena shook her head. “Mrs. Rogers is perfectly healthy. What other reason would I have to bring Agnes to the house?”
“To make it so Mrs. Rogers don’t get pregnant,” Dyson said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Oh, my God. Do you know how bad this is?”
Yelena didn’t deny it. But she didn’t drop her gaze. The deed was done now. What did he expect her to say?
“Did she put you up to this?” he asked.
Now her heart slammed on her chest. If she said yes and this went as badly as she suspected it was about to, Yelena would have betrayed Mrs. Rogers. And she couldn’t live with that.
But if she said it was her own idea, and it most definitely was, she jeopardized her own position. And Lloyd was still out there. And Dyson knew it.
“Fuck,” Dyson muttered a little too loudly. “You know Neal recognized your nurse friend, right?”
She wasn’t stupid.
“The trick here is to keep him from telling the boss what he thinks happened here,” Dyson explained. “And he’ll think exactly what I think.”
Now Yelena was seeing red. “I know he’d like nothing better than getting Mrs. Rogers in trouble with her husband.”
She could tell Dyson didn’t expect her to say that, but it was the truth.
“When Banner showed up at the house, the only one protecting her from him was Lang,” she insisted. “I was down there as soon as I heard the commotion. Neal? He would have let Banner have her.”
Now the older man looked appalled. “Why the fuck would he do that?”
“Because he doesn’t like Mrs. Rogers,” Yelena said. “And he doesn’t appear to have her best interests at heart. That puts her in danger because the boss trusts him implicitly.”
“Neal’s earned that,” Dyson replied.
“So much so that the boss should choose him over his own wife?”
Dyson shook his head. “Come on.” He motioned towards the car with Neal watching them from the driver’s seat. “I got to try and get to the boss before Neal does or there will be absolute hell to pay.”
She was all too afraid he was right.
“He’s going to ask if there was a problem,” Dyson instructed her. “When he does, you act pissy. I’ll tell him you didn’t get one of the tests I wanted you to. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sending up every prayer she knew, Yelena followed him out to the car.
You made it back to your room, still winded because you’d practiced for nearly two hours today. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you removed your pointe shoes, the band-aids and tape beneath. You winced at the fresh blister forming on the outside of the smallest toe on your left foot.
What you’d planned to wear the rest of the day was already laid out on your bed, you just needed undergarments and socks and you’d be ready to shower. You smiled when you opened the drawer where you kept your intimates to see the satin red thong there that went with the teddy you bought in New York for Valentine’s Day last week.
Well, Steve bought it for you after surprising you in the city when you thought you’d catch holy hell for being out of the house.
What a night that had been. Your heart still fluttered to think about it.
The hum of your phone on your bedside table got your attention. Maybe it was Yelena. You hoped her and Dyson’s medical tests went well.
The text was from Yelena, but it stopped you in your tracks.
I'm so sorry.
You stared at the text message from Yelena on your phone, wondering what the hell that meant. Your heart was sped up as you typed a reply asking if she and Dyson were okay.
You heard voices beyond your window. Peering out, you saw the black Jeep had pulled up, watched your husband climb out and march towards the front door. You hadn’t realized he left the house, but he sure seemed on a mission to return to it.
We are fine. I’m worried about you.
Her next text came a beat later.
Neal figured out who Agnes is.
You froze in place. Holy shit. If Neal knew who Agnes really was, he had an idea of why she came to your house. And if he didn’t figure it out, Steve would.
Telling Steve would be the first thing Neal would do with that information.
Steve’s tread was loud on the stairs, pounding in time with your heart. Steve was coming and you had nowhere to go, no time to prepare.
The door of your shared bedroom flew open, and Steve slammed it behind him, his face flushed from the cold, from anger. His blue-eyed gaze found you fast, and there you stood in leotard, leggings, and bare feet. You were sweaty, tired, with your hair pulled back from your face.
As much of a sweaty mess as you were, your husband looked as well-groomed as always. He peeled off the leather jacket he wore and tossed it over the chair at your vanity. The deep wine of the sweater he wore with jeans emphasized the angry color seeping out of his collar.
Dropping your phone on the edge of your bed, you folded your arms across your chest, bracing yourself for the storm that was coming.
Steve took in your stance. A muscle at his jaw flexed.
“We need to talk,” he said with a tight voice.
You just nodded. What else could you do?
You calm demeanor only seemed to piss him off more.
“Tell me about your manicure a few weeks ago,” Steve demanded, moving closer to the bed.
You held your ground. You didn’t like the way he was trying to set you up.
“I already did,” you said. “You said you liked my nails. Remember?”
His scowl deepened. “What was the woman’s name?”
“And was this manicure your idea?” Bitterness crept into his tone.
It was hard to hold your tongue. That question put you on the spot. If you said no, and you were pretty sure you told him Yelena arranged it to lift your spirits, he would get rid of her. And you needed her. As your friend and as a protector.
That meant you had to take the blame. And you weren’t sure you were ready for the consequences of that…
“It was,” you said finally. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was the course you chose.
Steve paused, surprised at your admission. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, just staring at you.
“She did more than your nails.” Steve shook his head. “The injection is good for three months, right?”
Wait. Agnes said that there would be no medical record of the injection. Had she lied to you? Or did he…?
“How do you know it was an injection?” you had to ask.
“Neal paid Agnes a visit at the hospital today.”
Steve knew everything.
“What did Neal do?” You were seeing red now. “Agnes isn’t in this. If he hurt her...”
“Neal warned her,” Steve told you.
Neal was intimidating. The poor woman just came to do you a favor.
“Neal is good at subduing women,” you told him. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Meaning he wasn’t so quick to protect me when Banner stormed in this house,” you said. “Scott pulled me away. Yelena saved me.”
“Don’t try to shift the blame for this to Neal,” Steve said. “Neal has proven his loyalty to me.”
“I’m not one of your men,” you shot back. “I’m your wife.”
“And a wife’s duty is to give her husband a family. To take care of that family.” New emotion entered his voice. He wasn’t just angry. “Why? Why would you go behind my back and do this?”
You shook your head, frustration welling up in you fast. Was he serious?
When you didn’t say anything, he charged forward, grabbing your chin in his large hand. His grip hurt as he pulled you to him by your face.
“You know what I want,” he said angrily, his face inches from yours. “Every time I’ve made love to you, I was hoping that was it. That was the one. And it would only be a few weeks after that when you’d be waiting here for me for a different reason. To tell me I was going to be a father.”
When he shoved you away from him hard, you stumbled back. The bed was right behind you, and you tumbled onto the edge of it.
“But here we are,” he growled.
Your own temper flared at that. You were going to be punished for this. You knew that. You weren’t going meekly. You weren’t just handing him a victory like he’d been handed everything else in his goddamn life.
“Here we are,” you said. “And once again, it’s all about what you want. About what you expect.”
“Enough!” he yelled. “This is the part where you remind me that you had no choices. I know. Your father hid you away and then I forced you to marry me. And I’m sorry, I truly am, that he didn’t even try to be a father to you.”
The venom in his voice told you he wasn’t trying to make you feel better. Steve’s fury was palpable, you could feel it coming off him in waves.
“Want to know what I regret?” Steve asked. “I regret that he didn’t try to prepare you for the world. He should have taught you your place.”
You would have agreed with him if you hadn’t been so angry yourself.
“No, he did just what he was supposed to, according to you. He didn’t spend time with my mother, or my brother and I from what I hear. She tried to get us out of your world.”
“She found a lover.” Steve moved closer. “If she hadn’t done that, maybe she and your brother would still be alive.”
Jumping off the end of the bed, you marched forward and slapped him across the face with all your strength. It was satisfying to see his head turn with your blow, but he was quick to recover.
“I wasn’t prepared,” you told him angrily. “I haven’t been married before. I never had a lover before. You’ve had many. You’ve had time to enjoy life and learn what you like, what you want. You’re at a place in life where you want to start a family. I haven’t had that time or experience. What? I was just supposed to spread my legs and pop out babies because that’s what you wanted?”
“You didn’t have a lot of experiences in your life,” Steve pointed out. “I considered it an advantage.”
You snorted. “I’m sure you did.”
“Somehow all of this lack of experiences wasn’t a problem until you married me,” he said.
“Is that what you thought?” you asked. “I’d go from being his hidden little girl to your dutiful wife? That just makes you na��ve.”
Scrubbing a hand over his beard, Steve stared you down. “You might have a point there. I was naïve in just letting you run free in this marriage. Letting you do what you wanted.”
“I’ve asked for so much,” you shot back, sarcasm bleeding into your tone.
“I gave you the bodyguard you wanted,” Steve snapped. “I had to find out she was training you with weapons when Hansen attacked my home. You hid that from me. I allowed it. Now I find out you hid your little contraceptive shot from me. I can’t trust you. What else have you hidden or lied to me about?”
Steve was right. You had hidden things from him.
“What is your problem with starting a family?” he wanted to know. His gaze swept over you. “What else are you going to do? You’re fit. You could probably have children and get right back in shape after.”
“So I’m vain?” you asked.
“Are you?” Steve asked. “You’ll have the best doctors, the best care. You can hire personal trainers if you're worried about your figure. We can hire people to help you with them once they're born. Nannies, tutors. Whatever you want.”
Now you were staring him down. “Don’t you know how that sounds? You want us to be parents and you’re already planning on how to let other people raise them.”
“Excuse me?” That pissed him off.
“I had all of that,” you said. “Nannies, tutors, governesses. What I didn’t have was a good relationship with my father. I didn’t have a mother or a sibling because of your world. I’m not saying I don’t want children one day. But I’d like to reach the point you have where I’ve lived a life and I’m ready for that.”
“Did you ever think of trying to tell me that? I thought we were finally on the same page. That we wanted the same things. You let me believe that,” he said bitterly.
“Would you have listened?” you asked. “And maybe I did let you believe that I could pregnant. But I was afraid. How could I enjoy sex when each time I was worried that would be the one? And I’d be pushed into something I wasn’t ready for. Responsible for a child.”
The hurt showing on his face surprised you. “You enjoyed sex with me because you knew you weren’t going to get pregnant?”
Your heart lurched. You felt like so much was riding on your answer, and you were angry.
But it was truth, damn it. Hiding things was how you got here.
“Yes,” you said slowly. “I would hope you’d understand why. I wasn’t even familiar with sex. I just wanted time.”
“You just wanted to take control away from me.” Steve’s glare made you pause.
“I thought you wanted me to trust you? You said you hoped one day this marriage would be something I needed too.”
“I thought you loved me,” he said with a finality that had fear spiking in you.
Faster than you could blink, Steve snatched your phone off the bed and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. The speed of his movements had you flinching. He noticed.
“What are you doing?” you asked, sounding way less confident now.
“Taking control of my household,” he said coldly. “Just like I’m getting ready to take care of business with the families. What do you think I’m doing?”
You swallowed hard. Steve’s gaze on you was assessing. He could read you so easily.
“Thought I’d spank you?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’d enjoy that.”
Humiliation had your face heating up, remember the last one that you’d provoked.
“I should have done this from the beginning.”
“What do you mean?” you had to ask.
Steve moved back, putting a distance between you.
“Your injection is good for another four weeks,” he said. “We’ll resume our marriage then.”
“Resume our marriage?” Your voice pitched higher than you would have like. But he caught you off guard. “What does that mean?”
“That means when that shot has reached the end of its efficacy, I’ll be back. Until then, you’ll stay in this room. My men will bring you meals and anything you need for toiletries and supplies. But that’s it.”
Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
“Your men?” You had to be careful now. “What about Yelena?”
“She’s done,” Steve said curtly. “She’s worked her last day in this house. She just makes you worse.”
Tears stung the backs of your eyes. It was exactly what you feared.
“You can watch television but I have your phone,” Steve continued. “And your laptop is downstairs.”
And he was cutting you off from the rest of the world, from any support. Tears streamed from your eyes. Some from regret, most from anger. You blinked them back as you considered the weeks ahead.
And what you’d done to Yelena. What if losing this job put her in danger? What if Hansen got to her?
“When I come back, we will get to work on starting a family,” he informed you. “Just maybe you’ll be more grateful by then.”
“Or I’ll hate you.”
Steve shook his head, marching for the door of the bedroom you’d been sharing. “I’ll find another place to sleep in the meantime.”
“I’m sure you will,” you said through your tears. Visions of him with Kat flashed in your mind, threatening to break you.
And with that Steve marched out of the room. You heard the lock turn a beat later.
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marvelgifs · 2 days
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CHRIS EVANS as Steve Rogers Avengers: Endgame (2019)
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straywords · 2 days
In The Mountains XV
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Dark! Steve Rogers x Reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes
Your vacation with your friends at a Swiss chalet is disrupted by your fateful encounter with two strangers.
Series Masterlist || Stucky Masterlist
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The echo of their steps down the stairs has your pulse racing.
Shrinking in your cage, your eyes remain down as Sabri’s caustic tone rises. "Figure it’d take her needing to eat for you bastards to feed us."
The venom in Bucky’s voice matches hers when he replies icily, "Keep it up like this and I’ll break your other arm, Sabri." A shudder shoots through you at Bucky’s words. You can’t remember a single instance of him ever addressing you with such blatant contempt and, in spite of everything, a shred of sympathy for Sabri and Ash blooms inside you.
The sliding of plates across the stones lands in your ears, the scents of fresh food making your mouth water. 
Unlike you, Sabri and Ash rush to their plates, setting decorum aside as they wolf down the food. 
You suppose appearances have stopped mattering a while ago…possibly around the time two psychos decided to kidnap you and your friends. 
It also makes your chest pinch, witnessing the depth of their hunger. 
A pang kicks at your stomach at the sight of food but eating is the last thing on your mind. 
Besides, you don't want to give them the satisfaction.
In a peculiar way, you know refusing their kindness bothers them more than your open displays of rebellion. 
Clearly they don’t think their actions are questionable. Clearly they think they’re the good guys. And the very thought makes you sick. 
"Are you okay, doll? I’m sorry it had to come to this." Bucky tenderly whispers as he kneels in front of the iron bars.
Revulsion blisters your insides. 
His saccharine, gentle tone is a slap in your face. 
How dare he? 
How dare he pretend to be kind, to care, when their savagery is still branded into your flesh?
Steve’s distinct, self-assured stride brings him closer to you. His wide shadow looms over you, blotting out the already scarce light in your corner of the basement.
His baritone is even more honeyed than Bucky’s, softer than you’ve ever heard before. It puts you on edge and you stubbornly evade his gaze. 
"You don’t have to spend another night here," he says. "There’s a warm cozy bed waiting for you up there, sweetie. It’s entirely up to you."
Up to you. What a joke. Are they completely insane? 
As if a single part of this was your choice. 
A cage or a much nicer cage. A twisted choice befitting of your captors. 
"At least eat, doll," Bucky pleads, nudging the plate further through the hole at the bottom of the cell. 
You pay the food no mind despite the way your stomach rumbles, noting how the scrumptious spread is visibly nicer than the gray mush they served your friends. 
"It doesn’t have to be like this," Steve insists, crossing his arms over his chest. 
Bitter words spill out before you can stop them. 
"I think it does," you reply coldly. "I’m your prisoner."
An exhausted sigh leaves Steve as he hunkers down. You recoil as his musky scent wraps around your senses, bringing back the horror of being pinned underneath them. 
"No…" There’s a heavy pause before the jangle of metal keys sliding and twisting inside the lock fills your ears. To your shock, Steve opens the door of the cage. "No, you’re not."
Your stunned gaze rises to his blue orbs, hollow and surrounded by dark circles. 
"Stevie?" Bucky inquires, astonishment bleeding in his voice. 
Steve’s brows knit as he studies you. A strange, confusing mix of emotions swims in his cerulean gaze. 
"One night’s enough," he mumbles. His lips tighten as he sighs. "Besides, she needs a bath."
Bucky nods at that, relief settling over his features. 
Steve’s fingers graze your arms and you flinch. Hurt flickers over his handsome face at your reaction. 
His hand doesn’t leave your arm as he whispers, "I promise I won’t hurt you." A wry chuckle spills from your throat. It shocks you every time, the infinite supply of delusion they possess. "I know you don’t believe me but I’ll show you." 
He tugs you out of the cage as you resist. 
Disregarding the fierceness with which you scratch his face and bang against his chest, Steve hoists your writhing form in his arms. 
Irate tears brim your eyes as you yell at the top of your lungs,
"I hate you!"
Steve’s undeterred by your wrath, serene as he climbs up the stairs with you in his arms, Bucky following closely behind. "I know," Steve states, not even flinching as your nail sinks inside his cheek. 
Sabri and Ash toss you pleading glances from their cells. The hope fluttering on their dirty faces makes your chest sink, the weight of what they expect from you bearing heavily on your shoulders. 
You are Sabri and Ash’s only chance. Whether you like it or not, your actions may influence their fate. 
You squint at the brightness of upstairs as Steve carries you to the bathroom. Sure, the warm sunlight piercing through the windows is preferable to the dusky, chilly basement…but you don’t feel free or safe, tension knotting your belly with each clomp of his boots against the wooden floor. 
Expectation of the worst plagues your thoughts. 
The tub’s already filled to the brim as Steve gingerly allows you to be on your feet again. Unsteady on your legs, you wobble, but Steve sits you on the edge of the bathtub before you can collapse. Shivers dance through you as he removes the socks and shirt, leaving you exposed before them. You don’t fight him though, knowing better by now. Still, a hint of pride sparks inside you as you steal a glimpse of the bloody trail on his cheek.
You made him bleed. It may not be much but you revel in the small victory. 
Unfortunately, it already appears to be healing, which strikes you as a bit odd but you’re too tired to care. 
He picks you up again, easing your body into the tub. 
The pleasantness of the hot water sinks into your sore, bruised limbs. Your body welcomes it, at war with your mind. 
Even the gentle way Steve rubs the sponge over your back doesn’t exactly feel bad. Part of you wishes it did. 
You don’t want to enjoy this. But as Steve massages your skin, shockingly careful and soft in his motions, it’s hard not to lean into his touch, not to surrender to the fleeting kindness. 
The flowery scent of the bath salts invades your nostrils as you take a breath. 
This is a trick, you remind yourself, the vision of Sabri and Ash’s terrified faces flashing into your brain. 
"I’m sorry about the other night," Steve blurts out, further surprising you. 
Daggers fly from your eyes to his as you glance up at him angrily before focusing back on the purple hue of the water. 
"Sure," you scoff, pulling your knees against your chest. 
His knuckles skim over your cheek as you bristle, making yourself as small as you can in the tub. 
Steve unleashes a long exhale. 
"I mean it. I never wanted it to be like this. I wanted it to be good for you, sweetie, gentle. I swear." His deep voice turns apologetic as he drags the soap up and down your arms. "If I could, I’d take it back, but seeing you almost die…" His brows twitch as the muscles of his jaw flex. "I don’t know what happened, I just…"
Steve’s voice breaks, his fingertips linger on a darkening bruise, drawing a small whimper from you. 
Bucky steps inside the bathroom, his forehead creasing as he says, "You scared us to death, doll." The guilt on his face mirrors Steve’s. A darkness flashes in his stormy orbs as he adds, "It triggered something in us."
Triggered. You almost release another laugh. 
Wearily, you lean your head against the tiles on the nearby wall, hugging your frame in the water.
Steve’s hands still wander over you, touching parts you prefer he didn’t. 
"I know you hate us," he announces matter-of-factly, sounding wholly unbothered by that fact. "I know you don’t want to be here. But it’s where you belong and you’re ours." His warm breath on your neck sparks ice in your veins. "I don’t expect you to understand everything about us but I’m hoping in time you’ll come to accept us. Accept our love for you."
A fresh wave of sickness sweeps through you, tears dripping past your lashes. When your voice rises, a quivery croak, it’s more absent musing than a response.
"I don’t think I can do it. You took me. You-"
You tense as Steve’s plump mouth brushes against your shoulder, quieting you. The contact is brief but still plucks a shaky gasp from you. 
He massages your shoulders as you quake under his hands. 
"Hey. I know it’s hard. It’ll take time but we’ll get there," he hushes, hope flaring in his soft timbre. "I know how strong you are, sweetheart. Look where you are, everything that has happened, yet you haven’t fallen apart, have you?"
Lips shuddering, you draw a sharp inhale. You slowly turn your head to Steve. "What if I hate you forever? What then? Will you kill me?"
The scowl on Steve’s face accentuates. His thumbs tenderly rub into your wet flesh. "Sweetie, how could you think…" Steve’s face hardens as resignation sneaks into his blue orbs. "If you hate us, then so be it." His stern expression returns. "But you’re not going anywhere, even if you never come to accept us completely…"
Bucky kneels next to Steve, exchanging a loving glance with him before grabbing your hand from the water and bringing it to his lips. 
Your insides clutch in discomfort. 
"We love you enough to make up for it, doll," he chimes. He presses his thumb inside your palm. "As long as you’re with us, nothing else matters."
Disbelief crests inside you as your attention bounces between them. 
"Why? There’s nothing special about me."
Steve almost looks offended by your words, his hand drifting to your cheek to cup it. 
"Yes, you are. You’re very special to us, sweetheart," he retaliates. "We’ve always known you were different." He slants his head and smiles. "We’ve known about you for a long time."
Befuddlement wrinkles your brow. 
"What do you mean, Steve?" you quaver, your brows grazing your hairline as they rise. 
Bucky laughs and a chill slithers up your spine, a foreboding sensation settling over you. He beams, his blue eyes hazing with fond remembrance as he caresses your wrist. 
"You probably don’t remember. Makes sense. I was all bandaged up at the time." Bucky’s gaze searches your face. You frown, confused by what he’s looking for. "Remember when you volunteered at the VA center for some time?" he inquires. 
Your puzzlement grows. "The year before college, yeah. But I don’t see how it relates to-"
Steve’s hand travels to your neck, stroking it as his eyes glimmer. 
"Oh, sweetie," he sighs. "That’s when we knew you were special. That’s when we knew we needed to protect your innocence from the world."
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natsskydivingcrew · 2 days
Bucky: I don't like women.
Steve: you're a MISOGYNIST???
Steve: I know you've been through some shit but I thought better of you
Bucky: Steve, no.
Steve: You can't say that! Times have changed!
Bucky: I'm gay
Steve: oh
Steve: me too
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scottxlogan · 23 hours
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Captain America The First Avenger
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mirrorballwn · 2 days
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SUMMARY — you’ve dreamed about the moment you would finally meet your soulmates. you never knew how truly magical it would feel to be at home in their arms, owning a piece of their heart.
PAIRING — avengers x omega!reader
WARNINGS — dom/sub, orgasm control, subspace, impact play, omegaverse
it makes you mine [ 3.8k ]
tomorrow at one
strawberry peanut butter sandwich
all her life for
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textsfromsuperheroes · 14 hours
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Texts From Superheroes
Facebook | Twitter | Patreon | Instagram
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hopelessartgeek · 16 hours
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Post apocalyptic Stucky.
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ash3 · 3 days
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Spring gift for everyone in need of cute and kind things
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Pretty Petals 16
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content including rape/noncon, kidnapping, violence, sexual acts (fingering, oral, anal, dp), coercion, bondage, and more tags to be added as the series progresses. PREPARE YOUR PANTIES, HOES.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems.
Girls and Flower Name List HERE!
Characters: Ransom Drysdale, Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker, Curtis Everett, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Loki, Andy Barber, Hela, and multiple OFCs
Note: I shoulda posted this by now so bon appetit.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all like birds love to appear everytime you are near. Take care. 💖
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Still unwashed, you must accept the chance for a swim as a quasi-bath. It’s not exactly cleansing but it will do until you get to have a shower. You’re not entirely optimistic on that prospect but Bucky’s absence is a reassurance on its own.
Ransom stands waiting at the door, a towel over his shoulder as you approach in your simple white one piece. He smirks over at you, “looking good, Lily pad, miss me?”
You stop and look at him. He’s better than Bucky, you can give him that.
“Yes, sir,” you answer, “thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?” He narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“For letting us swim,” you say evenly.
“Ah, you lookin’ forward to our reunion or something? Back to the usual, huh? Sleep better with me beside you?”
You lower your chin, “are you mad at me?”
“Do you care?” He scoffs, “don’t try that pathetic act with me, Lily pad,” he reaches over and taps your ass, “go get in the pool.”
You wince but do as he says. You pass through the open doors onto the deck, the chirping of birds and the warm glow of the sun greeting you. The gentle stir of water comes from down the stairs and you descend one step at a time. 
The other three are all around the pool, Azalea wading listlessly, Violet swing her legs over the edge as she basks in the light, and Dahlia glowering on a sunbed.
You go over and sit on the seat next to Dahlia. She’s unenthused by the bright sky and sway of nature around you. Loki hides behind a pair of sunglasses, his skin pale against the yellow haze above. You wonder how he hasn’t burned.
Ransom comes out, his flip flops slapping on the ground. He wears a bottle cap pair of shades that lend to his pompous airs. You wonder how he can make designer labels look so cheap. You’ve never been materialistic, a bit lost when it comes to fashion yourself, but there’s something about him that’s so slimy. Maybe, because you know what he’s capable of.
“Don’t wanna miss out, girls,” he takes off his glasses and drops his towel on a lounger, “better get a dip in while you can.”
You nod, “yes, sir,” you stand and look around, “we will.”
You look at Loki and the tall bottle beside him, the letters SPF catching your eye. It’s an excuse. You go over to him and loom above his reclining figure.
“Excuse me, sir,” you eke out, “can I borrow some sunscreen? I don’t want to burn.”
He doesn’t answer at first. You think maybe he’s asleep. You wait and stare. His dark brow pops up above his sunglasses and he waves his long fingers.
“As you will, darling, as long as it finds its way back,” he allows.
You reach for it and feel the heat of gaze underlining that of the summer sky. You thank him and quickly flit away, his knuckles brushing your thigh. An almost curious graze.
You return to Dahlia, “you want some?”
Her dark eyes flick up and she clenches her jaw. You give her a pleading look and her cheek twitches. She shrugs, “sure, don’t need a sunburn on top of all of this.”
“I’ll get your back,” you offer.
She sits up straight as you climb up behind her on your knees. You squirt out a dollop of the lotion and slap it against her skin, rubbing it in as you lower your voice beneath Violet’s offkey humming.
“That’s it, girls,” Ransom barks over as he stands on the diving board, “show each other some love.”
You hold back a scowl. It reminds you of Andy and how he leered at you and Rose. You force a smile and slowly spread the lotion.
“I know it’s hard, but you need to play it cool.”
She turns her head. You see the sharp gleam in her eye. She barely moves her lips as she replies, “you know how he is. There all fucking monsters.”
“I know, Rin–” you almost flinch as you say her real name, “I know but fighting… openly. It’s not going to work against them.”
She’s quiet as you run your hands down her side, “openly?”
“We have to be smart. If you gotta, be mouthy but you’re no good tied up in some corner… we need you. We need each other.”
She doesn’t answer. She stands and glances over at Loki. She takes the bottle from you.
“I’ll get you.”
You get up and turn your back. She applies a healthy river down your spine and drags her fingers through the slickness. You lean your head forward as her touch is surprisingly soothing. The first touch that hasn’t made your skin crawl.
“Fine. I’ll… try. But what’s your plan?”
You take a breath and raise your head, “don’t know. Still need one. You got anything?”
She drags her hands across your shoulders and steps closer, “there’s only three right now…”
“Too soon. They’re not stupid. They’ll be expecting us to try.”
“It might be our best chance.”
“Or it might be us shooting ourselves in the foot.” You turn and take the bottle, “you don’t think this isn’t a trap?”
“I know it is,” she mutters as she holds out her hand and you squirt out some more lotion for her, “first, we gotta get these off.” She puts her hand to her chest and smears the sunscreen along her cleavage.
“The necklaces? Why?”
Her lips slant and she peeks over towards the pool, “they got trackers in them. It’s how that mustached fucker caught me. I saw it on his phone. We’re all just dots on a map.”
You blink and gulp, “trackers?”
“Uh huh,” she utters in disgust, “these fuckers planned this out good. Fucking losers.”
“Oh, Miss Lily,” Loki’s voice startles away your response.
You turn to him and grip the bottle, “yes, sir.”
“Would you bring some of that over here? I believe I require a new coat.”
You don’t look back at Dahlia as she carries on rubbing in what’s left of her handful. You go to Loki and watch him with wide eyes. You scrunch your mouth up nervously, “here.”
“Would you mind?” He gestures, “just on my chest, you see, it’s getting a bit pink.”
“Oh, uh,” you look down at the open cap, “yes, sir, I can…”
You squeeze out a small amount into your palm and set the bottle back on the round table beside him. You stare at his chest, broad above his slender torso, lines of muscles etches into his long figure. You bend slightly and press your hand to left pec, dragging it around slowly.
He hums and you nearly retract your hand. His fingertips tickle your knee and dance up your thigh. He’s enjoying it. You focus on your task, putting two hands to work across his chest.
“Ah, you better get my stomach too, just in case,” he slithers as you pull away.
You nod and get more lotion. It’s awkward to try to bend over him, your shoulder straining. He squeezes your knee.
“You may sit,” he shifts over, “if it is easier.”
You chew your lip and lower yourself onto the edge. You run your hand down the middle of his stomach and spread the sunscreen along his firm abs. You near the top of his shorts and the fabric twitches. You try to act like you don’t notice, even as his voice drones in delight.
“You have gentle hands, Lily,” he pets your thigh, “an apt name, isn’t it? So beautiful and soft…” his fingers swirl around, raising goosebumps on your skin.
“Thank you, sir,” you murmur as you trail your hands up his sides, blending in the last of the lotion.
He rescinds his hand and flips up his sunglasses, meeting your gaze with his bold green eyes. You stare in shock, wondering for a minute if he hadn’t overheard your conversation. His irises are laced with mystery and his expression betrays nothing.
“I’ve made up my mind,” he says, matter-of-fact, “I will have you tonight.”
You wince, “sir?”
“You know entirely what I mean,” he drops his glasses back to the bridge of his nose, “don’t look so dimwitted or I will have you straddle me here and now…” he purrs at the suggestion, “I may still before the day burns out.”
You stand and rub your slippery hands together. You’re drawn around by a sudden yipe. Violet flails as Ransom lifts her and tosses her, a splash spraying to the rim of the pool. Azalea shields herself as Dahlia prowls the edge. You cross slowly towards her.
Violet pops back above the surface and Ransom catches her head, shoving her back under. She thrashes and you nearly trip over yourself as you rush to the edge of the pool. He keeps her submerged as he turns and points to you.
“Lily, you wanna fuck around, I won’t let her back up til she stops,” he warns, his voice razor sharp, “both of you.” 
He waggles his finger between you and Dahlia and both take a step back. Violet thrashes under the water and he finally lets her break through. She gulps and gasps, coughing as Ransom keeps a hold of her long hair.
“Spit it up, Vi,” he claps her back, “you’ll be just fine–” he snorts, “well, mostly.”
He clamps the back of her neck and urges her towards the side of the pool. She whimpers as Azalea follows after her. He stops and swirls around, dragging Violet around to face the taller girl.
“Go, stand with the rest, you big scaredy cat.”
Azalea slumps and gives a grim look to Violet. They are closest among the girls and you see the turmoil in her eyes as she hesitates. Ransom snaps his fingers, his other hand still latched onto a whining Violet.
“You want some fun too? Is that what it is?” He snarls, “Loki, get your ass over her.”
“Ladies,” Loki doesn’t bother rising, “if I must rouse myself for your defiance, I will not be polite about it.”
Azalea mouths ‘sorry’ to Violet before she backs away. She goes to the pool ladder and climbs out, walking stiffly to stand with you and Dahlia.
Ransom chuckles and spins Violet to face him, grabbing her throat with both hands, “you think Curtis can keep you to himself? That you’re special? Girls,” he looks above her, “that’s not fair, is it?”
Azalea sniffles and Dahlia lets out a growl as she reaches to toy with the necklace, as if reminding herself. You sink your teeth into your cheeks and glare at him. He pushes Violet to the edge of the pool and pins her to the wall. He slowly releases her and steps back.
“Take your bathing suit off. Now, Violet.”
“But I… I didn’t do anything,” Violet squeaks.
“I don’t fucking care what you did or didn’t do,” he snaps, “you listen to what I say. That bald-headed fuck isn’t king shit, so take it fucking off.”
Azalea trembles and Dahlia reaches over to touch her hand. You don’t move, mortified as you watch Violet shake and pull the straps of her bikini down her shoulders. Ransom huffs and rips them aways, forcing the top to her waist.
“He’s keepin’ all this for himself? Now that’s really not fair,” Ransom growls, “you got nice tits, Vi, and I know exactly what to do with them.”
“Ransom,” you say without thinking.
“Lily, shut the fuck up,” he grabs Violet’s elbow and ushers her towards the ladder, “you would do well to shut your mouth before I do it for you.”
You snap your jaw shut and cross your arms. He hauls Violet up the steps before him, following quickly as he slaps her ass. She staggers to her feet and he once more grasps her arm. He takes her to a lounger and sits her down at the end. She peers up at him with startled eyes.
“He’s coddled you. Spoiled you. But you gotta learn that you don’t belong to him,” Ransom grabs her chin harshly, “you belong to all of us.”
“Please,” she babbles.
“You don’t gotta beg, baby, cause I’m about to give you a treat,” he snickers and pulls his hand back, “push your tits together.”
He unties the top of his swimsuit as she stares stupidly. You want to scream at her. Just do it. Obey him. You’re one of us. You know the drill. You know better. You’re only making it worse.
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he shoves his trunks down his thighs.
“Violet,” you breathe.
“Lily pad, you’re not fucking helping,” Ransom barks as he grips his dick, “Violet, I gave you an order.” 
Violet’s eyes glisten and tear rolls down her cheek, a crystalline bead that hovers along her jaw before falling to land on her chest. She slowly raises her hands and winces as she gropes her full chest, pushing her perky tits together as Ransom toys with himself.
“That’s it, baby girl, just like that,” he bends his knees and once more clutches her hair in his hand, forcing her head back, “keep ‘em together.”
He angles his dick down and pokes it between her tits, sliding up her cleavage as she squeals. A full sob bubbles through and she flutters her lashes as the onslaught of her horror spills out. He slides his tip through, rocking his hips as he groans loudly. You shake your head and look away as the tempo quickens.
Azalea cries silently as her eyes are transfixed to the scene and Dahlia sneers into the distance, past the pool and the fence You hate this. You hate that you can do nothing to help any of your girls. Not even to help yourself.
You listen to the sickening rhythm of Ransom’s grunts and Violet’s sobs. Your eyes drift over to the other man, unaffected and unconcerned. The nonchalance of these men is more disconcerting than their cruelty. They just don’t care. They don’t see you as anything but an outlet for their use.
You turn straight again, keeping your arms locked across your chest. Ransom hisses and swears. Violet yelps and you roll your eyes back against the heat nestled behind them. The temperature rises with his rampant puffs.
“Ugh, Vi, that was fucking good,” he pants as he steps away from her.
Your gaze wanders back to Violet as she goes to wipe the slimy ribbons strung over her face. He catches her hand and clucks.
“No,” he says, “wear it with pride, baby girl. You did a good job.”
“Please, Ransom–”
“That man of yours needs to work on your manners,” Ransom growls and bats the side of her head, “it’s sir. Got it.”
“Sir, I’m sorry,” she touches where he hit her, “but… can’t I please clean my face–”
“You’ll clean it when I say so,” he snarls as he pulls his shorts back up, turning on his heel, “I need a drink. Loki, you want a drink?”
“I wouldn’t mind a refreshment,” Loki replies coolly, “rather generous of you.”
“Lily pad, why don’t you come help me, hm?”
You glance at Violet one last time. You know what it’s like to be her. To be the one made an example of. The shame and disbelief of what’s happened to you. That something’s been done to you and yet all the same, you feel as if it’s you that’s done wrong.
“Yes, sir,” you step forward obediently.
“Good girl,” he reaches to you as you near, “I can always count on you, can’t I?”
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perlmutt-perl · 16 hours
Dinner's ready.
(This is so stupid. What have I done...)
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avengerscompound · 20 hours
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Bucky Barnes
Captain America: Cold War Trailer
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dmitryanya · 1 day
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found a fitting reference so i used them as a warmup
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